Backpacking: Part 2

We awoke the next morning feeling somewhat refreshed.  I was ravenous and could hardly wait for the water to heat up for my instant oatmeal.  Jim and Jayne had this nifty devise called a Jet Boil.  It heats water in just a couple of minutes.

After our coffee, we were ready to get back at it.  It was then that I had a brilliant idea.  Let's leave the packs and tents at the campsite and pick them up with the car after we finish the hike.  Jim and Jayne didn't feel comfortable with that since some of their equipment was their son's.  The top of my pack detached into a fanny pack (I could kiss the person who came up with that idea), and I had my Camelback for water.  I was golden.  The pack was staying behind.  My husband didn't have the fanny pack option, so he still had to carry his big pack, but he only carried the essentials--food and water.  Life was good.

Maybe the sweaty clothes will dry by the end of the day.

Before we left the campsite, I noticed my other boot was looking a little suspicious.  We decided to do a little preventative reinforcement.  The duct tape was getting low, so I had to use a rope for the toe of my boot.  I was starting to feel like a hillbilly.

Thankfully, the Manistee River Trail was much prettier than the North Country Trail.  We had beautiful views of the river all along the way.

The Manistee River

 This would be my view for the next seven hours.

 Snack time

We stopped for lunch at a beautiful spot.  Unfortunately, Mike didn't bring the sterno or cookware along, so we had to eat our meal cold.  Our meals, by the way, were interesting.  I picked them up at work. (They are for the weight management program--code for diet food.)  They are similar to Lean Cuisine, except they don't have to be frozen.  They have a shelf life of three years, and all you do is microwave them for 60 seconds.  I thought we could heat them over the sterno and be fine.  They aren't bad warmed up, but eating them cold just doesn't do it.  

 One of the many kayakers we saw.

We knew we had to cross the river over a suspension bridge and then would reach the car about 1.5 miles after that.  I asked every person that we came upon how far we had to go to get to the bridge.  I got different answers from everyone.  I knew I could trust the guy who told us "39 minutes".  Sure enough, we caught sight of the bridge in 32 minutes and got there in 36.

 The suspension bridge comes into view.

 It was on the bridge that my boot finally bit the dust.  Pieces of rubber were starting to fall off.  Thankfully, I had a pair of mules that I had brought along to wear around camp in the evening.  They weren't made for hiking, but they worked.  And they looked quite chic with my white socks.  

 The boots had had enough.

By now, Mike was on a mission.  He was like an old horse heading back to the barn.  We couldn't keep up with him.  By the time we got to the car, he already had changed his shoes and had his pack in the car. The death march was finally over and we had survived.

 Gotta love the white socks and black mules.  

The look on Mike's face says it all, but he was a good sport.

These boots don't owe me anything.  They are at least 15 years old,

have been up Long's Peak (14,259 ft.) twice, 

plus countless other hikes.

Goodbye to my boots.  They served me well.

I can now cross backpacking off my bucket list.  If anyone is interested in gear, keep an eye out for ours on e-bay.  I tried it, and I don't like it, and I never have to do it again.   Praise God!!