The year after we moved back to California from Colorado, I was 10. My brothers were 8, 6, and just 5. My dad had grown up backpacking in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of Southern California and he was eager to introduce us to the spectacular beauty of those wonderful peaks and valleys. This was in June, 1981
Here is a story my girls have heard only once or twice:
When I was 10, and Uncle Eric was 8, Uncle Dean was 6 and Uncle Paul was just 5 years old, Grandpa took us backpacking. We drove for what seemed like a very long time, then we parked our Volkswagen bus off a dirt road in a pine forest.
On a backpacking trip you carry everything you will need on your back. Some backpacks look like the ones you have for school or car trips, only bigger. Some backpacks have frames to carry the load inside them, and others have them outside. When we were boys we didn't have any backpacks - only frames with shoulder straps.
Grandpa laid the frame on the ground and put a tarp over the frame. Then he put all of our things on the tarp. He put an extra pair of pants, an extra shirt, 2 pairs of socks, a sweatshirt and a stocking cap. Then he put our sleeping bag and our share of the food we would carry. Grandpa carefully folded the tarp so that it covered our things and so that it would keep them dry if it rained, then he tied it tightly to the backpack frame.
Then we all lifted our packs and started walking. We followed a trail and used a map and compass to make sure we were where we thought we were. When we came to a high spot that had a good view, we would take out the map and turn it so it was lined up with the mountains and valleys around us and use the compass to measure where we were.
We were walking to Chewing Gum Lake. On the trail it was about 10 miles - which is a very long way for short legs to walk. And we got to Chewing Gum Lake late in the afternoon.
The lake was clear and dark, dark blue. The water was very cold, because until just weeks before we got there it had been frozen! Now it was late spring, and the days were warm and sunny.
But as we set up camp, Grandpa thought it might rain, so he pulled out two thin plastic sheets and stretched them over ropes tied between the trees. We made our beds under them and went to sleep. We were very tired.
In the morning when I woke up I saw that the plastic sheet that had been high above my face was now very close to my nose. And every time Uncle Eric or I breathed in the tent moved closer. We crawled toward the end of the tent and found that the trees, the rocks and the ground were covered in almost a foot of snow!
We didn't have any snow boots or jackets or gloves. We played in the snow for a little while, but we knew it was important to stay dry, too. After all, we only had one other pair of pants and two pairs of socks. If we got wet it would be impossible to stay warm.
Grandpa didn't seem worried. He cooked our breakfast. Later he fed us lunch. We had only planned on staying out for one night and coming home the following afternoon. But now we could see that it might be best to wait one more night so the snow could melt a little more.
Grandpa always was prepared. He had brought some extra food and we ate it for dinner that night. We said a prayer for help and for good weather. Then we went to bed.
In the morning we woke to find - you guessed it - more snow!
There is a time to wait and a time to move. And Grandpa decided that it was time to move. He fed us what little food we had left, then we packed up our things.
Grandpa laid out his map and used his compass to make sure it was lined up with the earth just right. Then he turned his compass and pointed it to the spot on the map where we had left our car. He stood up, put on his pack, checked his compass one more time, and started walking. And we followed as fast as our legs could go.
The trail coming in had been gentle and smooth. It had wound along meadows and curved around steep hills and cliffs.
The path we took to get back to the car was no path at all. It was an imaginary line pointed out by our compass. It took us up steep rock faces, through bushes, and over hills. Whenever we came to a high point with a good view, Grandpa would check his map and his compass again to make sure we were still on course - heading for our car and safety.
For Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and me this was a great adventure! We were being just like Daniel Boone or Davey Crockett or Lewis and Clark. We were exploring and blazing a trail through the wilderness. I realize now that for Grandpa this was a race against time, temperature and fatigue. Winning the race would mean getting home to Grandma. Losing the race would mean understanding more about the Donner Party who had met their terrible fate 134 years before and just miles from where we were.
After what seemed like a long time, with very wet feet and pants, we came out of the woods onto a dirt road. Grandpa looked right. Then he looked left. He turned left and started walking down the road. And we followed him.
And there, fewer than 500 feet from where we'd come out of the trees, guided by our compass for nearly 4 miles straight through the wilderness, was our green and white 1978 Volkswagen bus.
Maybe you're wondering about the prayer for good weather. Sometimes we get what we need instead of what we want. There wasn't nearly as much snow on the second night as there had been the first. And as we climbed lower on the mountains the snow on the ground disappeared. The second day was not rainy or snowy. And it wasn't too hot, either.
On all that forced march none of us complained about being tired or hungry or scared. I don't think any of us felt tired or hungry or scared. We carried our packs and we followed Grandpa.
And so, was our prayer for good weather and help answered? Absolutely. And so will yours be - maybe in ways that you don't want, but always in just the ways you need.
Here is a story my girls have heard only once or twice:
When I was 10, and Uncle Eric was 8, Uncle Dean was 6 and Uncle Paul was just 5 years old, Grandpa took us backpacking. We drove for what seemed like a very long time, then we parked our Volkswagen bus off a dirt road in a pine forest.
On a backpacking trip you carry everything you will need on your back. Some backpacks look like the ones you have for school or car trips, only bigger. Some backpacks have frames to carry the load inside them, and others have them outside. When we were boys we didn't have any backpacks - only frames with shoulder straps.
Grandpa laid the frame on the ground and put a tarp over the frame. Then he put all of our things on the tarp. He put an extra pair of pants, an extra shirt, 2 pairs of socks, a sweatshirt and a stocking cap. Then he put our sleeping bag and our share of the food we would carry. Grandpa carefully folded the tarp so that it covered our things and so that it would keep them dry if it rained, then he tied it tightly to the backpack frame.
Then we all lifted our packs and started walking. We followed a trail and used a map and compass to make sure we were where we thought we were. When we came to a high spot that had a good view, we would take out the map and turn it so it was lined up with the mountains and valleys around us and use the compass to measure where we were.
We were walking to Chewing Gum Lake. On the trail it was about 10 miles - which is a very long way for short legs to walk. And we got to Chewing Gum Lake late in the afternoon.
The lake was clear and dark, dark blue. The water was very cold, because until just weeks before we got there it had been frozen! Now it was late spring, and the days were warm and sunny.
But as we set up camp, Grandpa thought it might rain, so he pulled out two thin plastic sheets and stretched them over ropes tied between the trees. We made our beds under them and went to sleep. We were very tired.
In the morning when I woke up I saw that the plastic sheet that had been high above my face was now very close to my nose. And every time Uncle Eric or I breathed in the tent moved closer. We crawled toward the end of the tent and found that the trees, the rocks and the ground were covered in almost a foot of snow!
We didn't have any snow boots or jackets or gloves. We played in the snow for a little while, but we knew it was important to stay dry, too. After all, we only had one other pair of pants and two pairs of socks. If we got wet it would be impossible to stay warm.
Grandpa didn't seem worried. He cooked our breakfast. Later he fed us lunch. We had only planned on staying out for one night and coming home the following afternoon. But now we could see that it might be best to wait one more night so the snow could melt a little more.
Grandpa always was prepared. He had brought some extra food and we ate it for dinner that night. We said a prayer for help and for good weather. Then we went to bed.
In the morning we woke to find - you guessed it - more snow!
There is a time to wait and a time to move. And Grandpa decided that it was time to move. He fed us what little food we had left, then we packed up our things.
Grandpa laid out his map and used his compass to make sure it was lined up with the earth just right. Then he turned his compass and pointed it to the spot on the map where we had left our car. He stood up, put on his pack, checked his compass one more time, and started walking. And we followed as fast as our legs could go.
The trail coming in had been gentle and smooth. It had wound along meadows and curved around steep hills and cliffs.
The path we took to get back to the car was no path at all. It was an imaginary line pointed out by our compass. It took us up steep rock faces, through bushes, and over hills. Whenever we came to a high point with a good view, Grandpa would check his map and his compass again to make sure we were still on course - heading for our car and safety.
For Uncle Eric, Uncle Dean, Uncle Paul and me this was a great adventure! We were being just like Daniel Boone or Davey Crockett or Lewis and Clark. We were exploring and blazing a trail through the wilderness. I realize now that for Grandpa this was a race against time, temperature and fatigue. Winning the race would mean getting home to Grandma. Losing the race would mean understanding more about the Donner Party who had met their terrible fate 134 years before and just miles from where we were.
After what seemed like a long time, with very wet feet and pants, we came out of the woods onto a dirt road. Grandpa looked right. Then he looked left. He turned left and started walking down the road. And we followed him.
And there, fewer than 500 feet from where we'd come out of the trees, guided by our compass for nearly 4 miles straight through the wilderness, was our green and white 1978 Volkswagen bus.
Maybe you're wondering about the prayer for good weather. Sometimes we get what we need instead of what we want. There wasn't nearly as much snow on the second night as there had been the first. And as we climbed lower on the mountains the snow on the ground disappeared. The second day was not rainy or snowy. And it wasn't too hot, either.
On all that forced march none of us complained about being tired or hungry or scared. I don't think any of us felt tired or hungry or scared. We carried our packs and we followed Grandpa.
And so, was our prayer for good weather and help answered? Absolutely. And so will yours be - maybe in ways that you don't want, but always in just the ways you need.
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