The solo backpacking trip that (almost) ended me: part one
Weaving my way through the Missouri countryside on a clear day was the perfect way to begin a long-awaited backpacking adventure.
My first solo trip in more than two years.
The trunk loaded with supplies I’d need for my three-day trek through Hawn State Park, I happily chatted on phone with my brother. Having company on the long drive was greatly appreciated.
(Thanks, Matt!)
Midway through our conversation, I realized that my arm was burning.
Like, really burning.
And when I looked down to see a rash the size of a baseball, I told my brother we’d have to finish our conversation later.
In the next thirty minutes, the rash grew bigger. And bigger.
How was I an hour away from the trailhead and already injured??
Panic flooded my chest as I tried to figure out what to do.
Like any strong independent woman, I called my husband.
He’s an aerospace engineer and stays remarkably calm when I’m flying off the handle. It’s a great match, especially for me.
Between the two of us, we figured out that the rash was caused by capsaicin residue from the can of bear spray I tested before leaving the house that morning.
Even though I stood up-wind. Even though I washed my hands.
Even though I was so careful.
And yes, I hear you asking… Why are you worried about bears in Missouri?!?
Well, turns out that there is a tiny chance of a black bear encounter in the area where I was headed. And even though there haven’t been any sightings (like ever), I was not planning to be the first. Especially if it involved a mama and her cubs.
This is also why in the hour before I left home, I googled: “how to hang a bear bag.”
You’ll want to save this in your pocket for later.
So anyway, there I was - hours from home - nursing a rash that burned like a son-of-a-you-know-what, when I happened to spot a pharmacy along the main drag in Steelville.
Bingo.
I silently thanked the pharmacist for not rolling his eyes when I explained myself. He kindly offered up the bathroom sink where I could clean the rash, sold me a tube of cortisone cream, and sent me on my way with an ice pack.
What a guy.
I’d like to tell you this was the first injury on my hiking adventure…
But I was already sporting two blistered fingers from a run-in with the pizza oven the night before.
Something else to add to your back pocket.
The sting in my arm gradually subsided, and after a few miles the rash all but disappeared.
The sun was shining, and I was back to enjoying the drive - gleefully singing along with my Spotify playlist.
I was ready for this hike.
When I finally arrived at the trailhead at Hawn State Park, the scenery (and the scent!) took my breath away.
I hoisted up all 37 pounds of my backpack - ready to begin the hike and shake off any traces of anxiety.
How could I be scared when everything was so beautiful?
The landscape along the Whispering Pines Trail was gorgeous. Others have told me that Hawn State Park is Missouri’s best park… and at that point, I saw what all the fuss was about.
The terrain was similar to what you’d experience in Colorado or Southeast California (without the mountain ranges, of course).
Between the tall pine trees and the sandy forest floor, I couldn’t contain my excitement.
I grinned like an absolute fool.
Along the way, I stopped here and there to inspect a flower or take in a pretty view, but after an hour or so, I felt those anxious vibes creep back in.
Daylight steadily slipped away, and it took longer than expected to maneuver the terrain with my heavy pack.
I was also nervous about accidentally sneaking up on the black bear mama and cubs I had concocted in my imagination.
I couldn’t let it stop me though… I had to power through.
Kicking myself into high gear, I reached my campsite just before the sun set.
I swiftly pitched my tent and organized my gear for dinner and bedtime.
Music and voices floated in the distance, reminding me of the fellow campers I passed a little way back on the trail. They seemed friendly enough, and I was glad to know others were close by in case anything went awry.
I began making dinner, proud of myself for being so independent and getting this far…
when my stove wouldn’t light.
I tried several more times…
nothing.
The gas audibly flowed and the stove sparked, but the two wouldn’t connect long enough to form a durable flame.
I scolded myself for not testing the stove and canister before I left.
Oh well, I thought, I’ll just use my lighter.
(pats self on the back for remembering to pack a backup)
Friends, there is a reason why you don’t use a standard cigarette lighter to light a tiny backpacking stove. Because when it lights, the flame will engulf your thumb.
At least.. that’s what happened to me.
Is your pocket filling up yet?
Ouch!!
Since I didn’t have an icepack, I snatched up my microfiber towel and stormed down to the creek. I figured I could soak the towel in cold water and use it as a compress on my thumb to cool it down.
That seemed to help… but I still didn’t have a fire.
Expletives spewing from my lips, I continued to press the igniter.
I knew I could just eat my food dry if I had to… but I worked so hard to prep this homemade dehydrated burrito bowl, and darn it, I wanted to enjoy it!
And then, on what seemed like the hundredth try, that darn stove finally lit.
Ah! Praise be to Him and all the little lambs!
That dinner tasted pretty good.
Scorched thumb and all.
Once the sun set, I started to feel anxious again…
This time about hanging my food bag.
I knew I’d sleep better knowing my food was hung high and out of reach of the bear I was sure would visit me during the night.
And so, earlier that morning, I learned how to execute a bear bag hang:
Fill a “throw bag” with rocks.
Tie the throw bag tie to a cord, sling it over a limb, and then attach the food bag to the other end of the cord.
Pull the throw bag down to raise the food bag high off the ground and far enough away from the tree trunk.
Seemed fairly simple.
I placed a medium sized rock in my bag and threw it over a limb.
The branch was too thin to hold the weight of my food and immediately snapped.
Searching around my campsite for a few minutes, I found a beefier limb.
I threw the rock bag, but it got stuck in a tuft of leaves and didn’t make it down.
I jostled the cord trying to work the bag loose, but it wouldn’t budge.
Great. Now my rock bag is stuck in the tree, and my food bag is still on the ground… ready to attract a hungry family of bears.
Overwhelmed with panic and determination, I jostled the cord a second time…
when felt an immediate whap as the rock bag tumbled out of the tree and smacked me in the head.
Hard.
I froze… completely stunned.
What just happened?
Once I gathered my wits, I realized that -
attempting to hang a bear bag for the first time on a solo backpacking trip - in an area where there have been zero reported bear sightings - was highly unnecessary.
filling a throw bag with a sharp rock was incredibly foolish…
and that my head was definitely bleeding.
Like, a lot.
*cue the mind swirling freak-out*
What do I do?
What if I cracked my skull?
What if I bleed out by myself in the middle of the woods?
I paced around the campsite, shrouded in an anxious fog… and finally found the makeshift ice pack I used earlier when I burned my thumb.
After what just happened, it didn’t hurt anymore.
Applying enormous pressure to my gashed head, I spent several minutes taking stock of the situation and trying to calm myself down.
Extra points for the upside-down headlamp.
Other than my racing heartbeat and the seething shame I felt for having now injured myself for the FOURTH time… I wasn’t feeling that bad.
I hadn’t lost consciousness or blacked out - and I wasn’t dizzy or nauseous. I assumed that ruled out a possible concussion.
But with the continual bleeding, a good sized cut, a noticeable dent in my head - and the fact that I was alone - I knew I needed to get checked out.
Looking down at my phone, I saw that I had a faint cell signal. I bit my lip and called my husband.
No answer.
I took a deep breath and called 911.
Nothing.
Not once since purchasing my Garmin In-Reach did I think I would ever need to push the SOS button, but there I was… realizing that it was the only remaining option.
I hesitated for several moments, but ultimately, caution won. Better safe than sorry, right?
I pressed that button, and…
nothing happened.
Are you (enter expletive here) kidding me?!?
By this point, it was completely dark.
My heart pounded… my head throbbed… and all I could think was…
Am I going to die out here?
Guys, cliff hangers are cruel - but you can rest in the fact that I probably wouldn’t be able to tell the story if it didn’t have a good ending.
But won’t it be fun to find out what happened next?
Subscribe to get part two in the weeks to come.
Until then, let me know in the comments:
Have you ever had a tricky situation in the back country?
I’d love to hear how you handled it.