Baby Bird

I can't recall the last time I worried about water.

Every backpacking trip I have ever been on has centered around water.  I get hot when I hike and I sweat a lot, so my water needs run higher than the average hiker.  Carrying enough water for me is like stuffing a bowling ball in the backpack.  It's a difficult weight vs benefit trade-off, since water is so critical for survival. 

In my peaceful suburban world there is not a lot of survival going on. Water flows from taps and the biggest danger I face each day is driving to work in a Subaru with 6 airbags.  It takes a while to become attuned to nature's lurking dangers.  It has been a long time since my last truly substantial backpacking trip and I will admit that I was rusty with my skills and allowed a beginner mistake to reach problem status.

It was day three on the trail and we were camping in a place where water access was difficult.  I had just used all my water for breakfast so I was hydrated, but empty.  The map showed a reliable water source just one mile down the trail.  Thus began the chain of errors ... my rule to never skip a water source had just been broken.  But it was just a mile and we had passed a number of unmarked but flowing water sources the day before.  Sounds simple, hike less than an hour and tank up.

The rest of the group had started and were far ahead, leaving me and Laura hiking together.  As we walked the beautiful valleys I began to notice that this side of the mountain seemed a lot drier.  I crossed a little smudge of water on the trail, but it was nothing much more than a muddy mess.  The map said reliable!  So we passed it by, thinking the reliable source was just around the next corner or at the bottom of the next valley.

Soon we realized we were well past the marked water spot with miles to go before the next marked water source. This began my baby bird procedure ... since Laura had about a liter in her pack, every 15 minutes or so we would stop and she would give me a drink out of her supply. To get water I stood right beside her, she would hand me the short tube, and I would take a drink.  We weren't uncomfortable with that, but it did give us the rough impression of a baby bird getting fed.

We caught up with the group on the trail when they were taking a break.  I explained my dilemma and they came up with about a liter to keep me going.  Bear in mind they too were rationing water having not filled up at camp, but they had calculated for themselves and not for a big, sweating, water-consuming teammate.  Soon they departed for our next waypoint, a hostel about 5 miles away.  Laura and I were drifting behind, our pace being significantly slower and we were still on break when they left.  A liter of water did not last me long, even stretching it out as much as I could. I at least remembered to stay hydrated even if it means running out quicker.

We reached a known point on the map where we stopped to evaluate our situation.  Straight ahead was the main trail or we could turn right and get on another trail to a marked reliable water source down a 600 foot hill.  It was a three mile hike to reach the hostel with unlimited running water.  Oh the temptation ... yet the reality was that it could take two to three hours in that terrain and the the day was getting hotter.  I sat down on a stump and felt a slight wave of nausea.  The decision was made ... I was turning right and climbing down and back up that infernal hill because I was not going to pass up another water source.  Laura readily agreed.

In a bit of a funk, we headed down that trail.  I noted that a stream was just to our right behind some bushes, and in a few hundred more yards we eyeballed the trail as it descended down for what looked like forever.  Not keen on that climb, the stream was going to be our source.  I would do whatever it took to fish some water out of it.  We turned back and got to the most likely spot, I grabbed my water gear and headed in.  Behind some bushes was a stream that was clean and clear, and deep enough to scoop water!  Which I did with great vigor.  Thanks to a Steripen uV water sterilizer, I had a liter of water in 90 seconds that I drank in two swallows.

That turned the day around in a flash. Everything seemed brighter, the colors came back, my mood lifted and this kind of unspectacular piece of ground became a simply beautiful spot. Together we refilled our water bladders and we set out our mats and took a much needed break.   We ate our lunch, then talked and relaxed and just had a great time, relieved that we once again had everything we needed to push on safely. Giddy over a few liters of water on a hot day, how often does that happen?

That muddy spot we passed? If we had traced it back from the trail there was water there to be had ... I never stopped to really look and let an opportunity pass.  I know how to find water, I was trying too hard to press on and did not take the appropriate time to really look, and to really see.  Get-there-itis is what pilots call it.

A few days later I had a similar issue when my full water bladder leaked out on break.  My only guess is that when I set down the pack it compressed the bite valve and the thirsty ground absorbed the slow leak leaving me no indication anything was wrong until about a mile down the trail when I tried to take a drink and came up empty. Impossible, I had not touched that water at all, having been drinking Gatorade from my Nalgene bottle up to that point.  With a hard climb to get back, once again we evaluated our resources and decided to head to the next watering hole.  Indications were it was muddy too, but I had the tools to squeeze water out of anything -- and the motivation to try.  Once again we were in baby bird mode with Laura sharing her water.  She had more water than the first time and we were in less critical of a situation but I still had to be careful.  I need about a liter an hour out there and I was not getting that.

Were we in true danger?  Probably not.  But in the wilderness "probably" is just not enough.  Things change in an instant and dehydration can hit hard and fast.  It would have been a miserable, hot, thirsty slog without her help.  A few miles later we caught up to the group and Andy had filtered a liter of water out of the mud which he gave me and that carried my to camp where we had readily accessible water.   Once again a member of our team came through for me.  We finished a 14 mile day and soon learned that water was the least of our worries, but that is another blog for another day.

I also noticed something:  I was stopping to drink, but Laura was not.  She was discretely saving the water for me and getting thirsty herself to do it. Granted a healthy dose of common sense was part of that decision, by not allowing a problem to escalate into a crisis and getting stuck having to tend to a 260 pound guy passed out on the trail, I get that.  The difference was the sense that we were in this together and together we were going to figure it out and push through.  No complaints, no sarcastic comments, no lecture, just a solution.  That is what I love about her, that perfect, easy partnership and that feeling of not being two individuals thrown together but an effortless team facing down challenges as one.  No need to impress or justify or explain, just work together and make it happen.

Be it the trail journey or life's journey, we need people we can trust around us.  Her act of caring showed me that there are people out there who do not put themselves first or offer assistance, but only at a price.  What a wonderful gift I have been given to have her beside me on this journey.  If we all could surround ourselves with people who truly care and create relationships based on trust rather than mutual self interest,  how different our worlds would be.