SNAILS. Slow. Oh so slow. But able to cover amazingly far distances if given enough time. Not to mention incredibly self sufficient, what with their shelter always at the ready, carried upon their back.
When my friends, Sarah and Rachel, and I were first entertaining different names for our backpacking trip trio, we couldn't help but relate to those slow yet industrious mollusks. But something was missing - we needed a descriptor that captured the relentless spirit of adventure, joy and play that characterized our exploits on the trail: Charging. And so we became "The Charging Snails."
Our mantra?
Charging in Spirit. Carrying a lot.
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Sarah, Rachel and Kim getting our snail-groove on... |
The Charging Snails have been meeting up to go backpacking on a practically yearly basis for the past 15 years. We have explored the Sierras, the California coast, the Cascades, the Canadian Rockies and most recently, the Alaska coast and alpine. Despite diverse lives, the trail always seems to provide a consistent, firm and friendly common ground for us to renew our friendship and our whimsical, outdoor identities. And gosh, do we carry a lot. Each of us brings at least one costume item and one "surprise" to be busted out at the perfect moment sometime during the trip (think color-changing nail polish, a fresh juicy mango, or a complete set of knitting supplies to share). And then there's the Bong Ball - a paddle game that has become a staple during down time at camp. And of course all the regular gear and food that most frugal folk limit themselves to on similar ventures. And wine. This year I insisted on a small box version to match each dinner meal. Sometimes you need a little something special to look forward to...
RAIN. Some of you may remember Team Leslie's anecdotes from last summer, the season of record-breaking sunshine and uncharacteristic dryness. Apparently the weather gods decided to make up for it over a single long weekend this July...
Our Charging Snails trip long weekend! On the morning of day one it was absolutely dumping rain and the clouds had dropped to sea level - gone were the majestic glacier-draped mountains and the turquoise bay I had described in anticipatory email exchanges - we were in wet, cold, white, pea soup. And the forecast called for more of the same.
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What can you do? |
ONE WISH. The queen of positive brain chemistry and setting reasonable expectations, I quickly revamped my visions for the trip as I hunched over in Ice Cream Newton, desperately trying to stuff gear into my pack in the only shelter available at the trail head. I decided I had one wish: That Sarah and Rachel, who had flown all the way up from California for the occasion, would get to at least see, if only for a moment, the grandeur of the trail... the mountains and water surrounding us, and not just the dripping trees and fog. Holding onto that, I hoisted on my pack, kissed Indigo and J goodbye, and got ready to slog. J's parting words were, "Don't be afraid to call for rescue..."
FRIENDSHIP. It turns out that although the setting is nice, the key to a successful backpacking trip (or anything for that matter) is simply the people and the strength of their relationships. Rachel and Sarah and I managed to chat and laugh and play our way along the Alaska coast as the clouds refused to lift and the rain refused to stop. Stories of challenge and love and fear and hope swirled with the small triumphs of beating the tides, finding the perfect tent spot and boiling water for morning coffee. And slowly, as our honest conversation and belly laughter lifted our spirits, the clouds began to lift a bit too. For one glorious afternoon, we were actually able to climb up to the alpine and truly see the magnificent country that mirrors our friendship. Charge!
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Wet but happy Snails. |
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Heavy rain makes cliff waterfalls and snazzy log crossings! |
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On our way up to the alpine... |
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We can actually see!! |
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Dry and especially happy Snails. |
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Bong Ball in action. |
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A happy ending. |
P.S. While the Snails were charging, J and Indigo managed to dipnet seven huge red salmon ("I got to hit their heads, Mama! Wham, Bam, Whack!" ~Indigo, now an official Alaskan for sure) which now live in our freezer as the official start to our stored harvest for winter. We then traveled to the Lower 48 for three weeks of family and friend visits galore. You all managed to pack a TON of love and fun into our travels - THANK YOU! And now we are re acclimating to the wild ways of the North... which, I'll have you know, takes a little adjustment after the organized, well-manicured, civilized vibe of the rest of the country. Seriously. Just last weekend I took our new fat bike out on a beach ride and managed to get
caught by a fisherwoman who had made a poor cast and had her line sagging low across the sand; she was very apologetic and I escaped without injury. No Wham, Bam, Whack for me yet!