Fool for a New Challenge

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I did something Saturday morning that I haven't done in years: nothing. I spent five glorious hours sipping tea and watching HGTV in bed while a flash-flood-inducing storm blew through. I took advantage of a rare lull in my life to force my body and brain into rest mode.

I also did it because things are about to change for the next three months. I'm going to start training in earnest for a weekend backpacking trip on Catalina Island this summer.

I don't know how I found the REI excursion, but I do know sessions were sold out whenever I checked. This year, I bookmarked the page, so when it updated, I was there. That's how I secured the first spot for a group backpacking trip on June 29-30, 2024. Three friends soon signed up, but one withdrew due to a shoulder situation and her sister backed out too. It's down to me and my friend Mary.

I'm excited to have a new focal point to get out there when my body and mind want to be elsewhere. I'm also fortunate to live next to a preserve with plenty of convenient trail options. My plan is to head out with incrementally heavier packs one or two days per week. Before and after those days, I'll do strength training and build endurance. It's a traditional training schedule, but one that twice I failed to adhere to.

Climbing out of a giant hole and up to a lake in the clouds

I'm hoping, on this day devoted to fools, that I am not going to again be among them come summer. On my first backpacking trip to the Grand Canyon, I did everything wrong. I bought a too-small pack that got little use before the trip.  Because two of the women in our group of five had done this twice before, I did very little homework on what to expect. I never practiced pitching a tent I carried with me all day. I never cooked with the camping gear that took up a lot of pack space. And, despite on-and-off heavy thunderstorms the entire time, we had no potable water to drink or flush toilets (when available).


The following year, I went with a friend to New Hampshire's White Mountains, with that other arduous trip still fresh. I invested in a bigger, better pack. We stayed in AMC huts, which certainly lightened the load. My mom had died a couple of months before the big date and I abandoned my training plan. However, I stuck to my commitment (I really needed to get away!) and was again ill-prepared for the rocky terrain and wild weather.

A week after I returned to San Diego, I learned my father had stage 4 lung cancer. Life took a hard turn, and here we are six years later. I'm ready to re-engineer the next 12 weeks to go on this new, easier-in-every-way backpacking adventure. It's shorter in time, kinder in elevation, and less ambitious than the past two trips. But, I'm also older, heavier and postmenopausal. I'm busier too, working full time, raising a disabled teenager, and enjoying grandparenthood and important friendships. It's a lot.

Something's been missing since I was forced to give up running, and I guess I am hoping this fills the void. Twice now I underestimated time commitments and overestimated my athleticism and outdoors know-how. Here's hoping third time's the charm.


Top Photo: Bright Angel Trail in the Grand Canyon (2015). Me and my friend Tracy at the Mt. Washington summit before we headed for hours (and hours) along a socked-in ridgeline to the Madison Springs AMC  hut in the White Mountains (2016). Bottom: Typical conditions (lots of rain = lots of mud) on the South Kaibob Trail in the Grand Canyon (2015)

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