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!!

Backbreaking Backpacking

I love to hike.  Even as a child, I loved walking on trails through the woods.  So, naturally, I assumed I would love backpacking.  I even had Lasik surgery (eight years ago) so I wouldn't have to monkey with contacts on the trail.   Well, finally, this past weekend, our schedules were free, the weather was good and we headed to the Manistee National Forest for the weekend. (Unfortunately, we didn't take into effect the sports schedule--Michigan vs. Notre Dame, US Open (tennis), Detroit Tigers on a roll, just to name a few.)

We left Muskegon around 10:30 and headed north.  The first big decision was where to stop for lunch (our last civilized meal for 30 hours).  Our last option was the casino, just north of Manistee.

Now that we were adequately fueled, we were ready to hit the dusty trail.  We arrived at the North Country Trail trailhead around 1:30 and hoisted our 40+ pound packs onto our backs. This was going to be fun.

The toilet doesn't flush, but at least you get to sit down.

The hiking book led me to believe I needed to wear a hat 

to prevent ticks from getting in my scalp.  I don't look particularly 

good in hats, but who wants ticks?

I noticed a whole host of hikers on the trail not wearing hats,

but once you put one on, there's no going back.

About 2 miles into our 22 mile hike, my boot felt a little odd.  I looked down and noticed the sole was starting to come away from the shoe portion.  Thankfully, Jayne just happened to have duct tape in her pack.  (Now that is something I would never have thought to bring along.)  Catastrophe averted.  After a little repair work, we were on our way.

For some reason, I thought from my reading ("Fifty Hikes In Michigan") that this was going to be a scenic hike with views of the Manistee River.  We saw the river at the beginning, but from then on, we only saw trees.

Our one and only view of the river.

There were also supposed to be mileposts along the way.  We saw none.  It turned out to be a lot of up and down monotony.  I totally regretted not bringing my iPod.

These mushrooms would make a great piece of pottery.

Around 6:00, we came to Red Hill and walked up short steep incline to the "overlook".

Anticlimactic to say the least, but it had a nice area to set up camp.  We were all tired and ready for the break, however, according to the book, the author suggested waiting ("if you can resist stopping") for a better area a mile down the trail.  Well, somehow, we missed the "better area" and ended up at the end of the trail.  At this point, you have to walk 1.5 miles down the road to a bridge where you hook up with the Manistee River Trail.  (This takes you up the east side of the river which loops around back to the trailhead.)  Bummer!

As exhausted as we were, we were seriously hoping a pick-up would come along and live up to its name by picking us up and giving us a ride.  No such luck.  Thankfully, it was downhill to the bridge.  When we arrived, we noticed a porta-john, a faucet with potable water, and a small campground with picnic tables.  This wasn't where we envisioned sleeping when we planned the trip, but nobody felt like going any further. By the time we got the tents set up it was dark.

Note my husband's shorts.  They didn't dry overnight

and he ended up hiking in his sleep shorts the next day.

We hung our backpacks so the bears and raccoons wouldn't get them.

There were some nice guys at the campground who gave us some good advice for the next day.  They also offered to give us a ride back to the car if we didn't feel like hiking in the morning.  My husband wanted to take them up on it in the worst way.  Peer pressure won out and we passed on it.  After dinner, I have to say, a sleeping bag never looked so good.

All snug in our tent.

My feet ached when I lay down.  Actually, my whole body ached.  I was ready for a good night's sleep.  Unfortunately, the camp ground was next to the road, so every time a car went by, it woke us up.  Oh well, at least I was recumbent.  To be continued...