Mistakes Were Made

We drove as far as we could and left the Chev in a patch of tumbleweed. The plan was for me to return it to our basecamp later in the day before my final hike to the river. That was the second mistake. The first mistake was loading my backpack with certain necessities—the tent, for example—that did not include the kettle.

We made our slow way down the tributary canyon with a number of stops to make adjustments to what everyone was carrying, especially EDO who had an uncomfortable old backpack that wasn't fitting her very well. (Do I need to count that as a mistake, too?) After about two miles, I started to make encouraging noises to the girls about how we were most of the way there. Um. No. The three miles I had in my mind turned out (for some strange reason like reality) to be just over five. By the time we reached our river camp, it was after 2pm. We were all tired.

This was the point at which the first two mistakes came into sharp focus. One, we didn't have the gear we needed. Two, my plan to make a quick round-trip to basecamp to collect the gear we needed was looking like a 10 mile death march late in the day. VSO suggested making do with what we had, but I felt that the missing items were critical. (Did I mention that my sleeping bag was in waiting for me in basecamp?)

Anyway, I'll spare my three readers the story of my agonies, but let's just say that I was back in our river camp after the sun was down but before it was dark. It was a rough 15-mile day for the old man, but it seemed like we had all the necessary gear at that point. (Fortunately the missing spoons were replaced by utensils carved from a juniper branch.)

Our family experiment in backpacking came with some mistakes. But, it put us in one of the more spectacular places I've ever been. (And, actually, that is saying something.) The girls loved it, too. We'll have to fix some problems if we want to go back, but, for a few hours, it was worth it.