Snow in the
lowlands meant a chance to go snowshoeing, so I skipped grief group and headed
for the mountains. I made it about 5
miles before I realized I had left my boots on the front porch. Widow brain strikes again! So I went back home for my boots, again.
A mile or so
up the trail I decided that I was not going to need my snowshoes so I stashed
them off trail just after running into another hiker. I never used to see hikers on this trail
during the week. Word is out I guess and
the population is booming, my days of solitude on any trail seem to be over.
After
stashing my shoes and waypointing the location, I realized that I had forgot to
fill my water bottle at the last creek.
Now I was starting to feel discouraged.
I'm tired of having widow brain, forgetting everything and being so
disorganized.
There was no more water to be had on the
trail, so I made a plan to head down an old logging road to where a creek
crossed the main road.
It was a .30
mile detour, no big deal I guess, but it was brushy and snow was going down the
back of my neck and I was getting cold.
But at least I would not have to come back this way. My plan was to walk up the road to the other
trail head and rejoin the trail there.
I found my
water source and was happy that the
detour route to the water had worked out so well. Then I looked down at my pack and noticed
that my GPS was missing. Crap! Time for more backtracking. I knew I had last seen my GPS at the location
of my snowshoes.
So I had to
go back on that snowy brushy route to look for my GPS. It should have been easy to find with a
bright red lanyard and orange duct tape on the back, bright colors I added just
for a situation like this.
I made it
all the way back to my snowshoes without seeing my GPS. What the hell? The snow was not deep enough to bury my GPS,
where was it? By now I was getting
colder so I put on my rain coat and my gloves.
I also dumped everything out of my pack to make extra sure that my GPS was
not on me.
Okay still
no GPS, so back I went to retrace my route yet again, but this time with my
trekking poles out so I could beat at the brush and the shallow snow. Still no GPS, I made it all the way back out
to the road and back to my water spot and still I could not find my GPS.
By this time
I was sobbing, but no tears were coming out.
I was sobbing and shouting "Where is it?". My GPS has a case that my husband gave me the
last Christmas that he was alive. I
really did not want to lose that case. I
wondered if my husband was somehow watching and if he knew where my GPS was,
but was helpless to tell me. So I kept
screaming "where is it?".
I had one
last idea, maybe my GPS was in the brush that I had to pull myself up through
to get from the old road to the main road.
That was really my last hope. I
went back to that slope and beat and beat and beat at the brush and the snow in
desperation.
Then it
happened, I saw an orange reflection in the snow and knew it was the orange
duct tape on my GPS. Whew, that was
close. I had dropped my GPS in the only
spot on my entire route that had deep enough snow to bury it. What are the odds of that?
GPS back in hand I packed up my trekking poles
and retraced my route to the trail
rather than going up the road.
I had my
lunch at the overlook that only I used
to know about, that I used to always have all to myself. They really should put a couple of picnic
tables there now to accommodate the massive crowds.
I had the
overlook to myself, but someone else has cleared the snow off. I was always the one to clear the snow off
before the crowds started coming.
It was
bitter cold, so I had my hot coffee and my hot noodles and headed back down the
trail to pick up my snowshoes and finish my hike. I decided to use my trekking poles for the trip
down, but I discovered that one of them was broken so I only had one pole for
the trip down.
I wondered
what else could go wrong on this trip before I made it home. Nothing else went wrong but this was not a
nice day in the woods, maybe I should have gone to grief group instead.
I might hike
again on Thursday, my husband's birthday, his first birthday since he died.
6.5 miles
with 2,300 feet elevation gain
I left Sage
home due to the cold. She does not
tolerate the cold as well as Patches did.
 |
| Snowshoes stashed here |
 |
| Hot lunch |
 |
| I called my husband on the phone from here one time. It was my first cell phone,not a smartphone I was surprised that I could get reception. My husband was so happy to hear from me. We chatted for a few minutes as I hiked. This is a happy memory that hits me every time I traverse this area. |
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