On the car ride back from Tahoe, I went through my hand-written notes of entries 92-99. I hadn't yet counted them out, and only just then realized that today was day 100.
It was a strange realization - it meant that I wouldn't feel the need to carry my camera around with me as much as possible anymore. It also meant that I would no longer have to analyze my daily activities, trying to find something interesting or poignant about them. It meant that I could come home after a long tiring day, or a fun exhausting night out, and not have to open my computer to jot down notes for an entry.
I felt slightly relieved, knowing that I would have one less thing hanging over my head every day. However, I also felt a little sad, knowing that it would be the end of an experiment that forced me to be more creative than I've been in a long time.
Even though the 100 day challenge has come to an end, I will try to continue to update my blog and find other ways to be creative as much as possible. Since I won't have to post something everyday, I'll have more time for quality assurance (less quantity, but better quality hopefully)!
Thank you to anyone who took the time to read any of these entries!
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Day 99 - Last Day in Tahoe
For the first time all week, I didn't wake up to the sun peaking through the curtains. It wasn't cold, but there was a grey cloud cover, and a strong breeze. It felt like fall.
There was something calming about the change in weather. I didn't feel obligated to go to the pool or the lake, or to take advantage of the sun, which has been ubiquitous as of late. Instead I curled up with my book and passed much of the day on the couch.
Bill and I had a relaxed morning and afternoon - eating leftovers, reading, working out and then taking a little nap. In the early evening we headed to Truckee to enjoy a cocktail before dinner.
On the way to Truckee we drove by a local car show, and decided to check it out. Shiny sports cars, trucks, and wagons of all colors drove slowly past us as judges announced the winners. I snapped a photo on my phone (I hadn't thought to bring my camera), and then we headed into town.
The sun came back out in the late afternoon before it sank behind the mountains.
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Day 98 - Just Can't Get Enough
After only one day back in civilization, we started missing our forest living and decided to take a hike in the nearby Desolation Wilderness. We stopped at Eagle Lake for a swim and then ended our hike at Emerald Bay, Lake Tahoe.
Eagle Lake
Blue Lake Tahoe
Love
At Eagle Lake
Emerald Bay, Tahoe
Emerald Bay shores
Monday, August 31, 2015
Day 97 - Crisp White Ankle Socks
Bill and I had decided the night before we left for backpacking that if we ended our trip early, we would head to Tahoe and spend a few days relaxing at my parents' condo. Since the idea was not definitive, and very last minute, we didn't necessarily plan for it. When we got to Tahoe, the only clothes and items that I had were the things that I'd brought backpacking. All of a sudden the clothes that had served me so well for the last five days made me feel embarrassed and self-conscious.
Immediately after the hike, we stopped at a nearby restaurant to satisfy our craving for "real food." With my legs covered in thick matted dirt, my hair sticking stiffly to my head from sweating in a hat for 9 hours, and my general smelly hiking attire, I felt disgustingly conspicuous.
We licked our plates clean within 5 minutes of the food hitting our table. Our plates were damn near spinning when we headed out. I made sure to leave a good tip since I feared we may have been the reason the tables surrounding us remained unoccupied.
On the car ride to Tahoe I checked my texts and all the social medias. After scrolling through Facebook for about a half hour, I declared to Bill that I'm deleting the app from my phone. It wasn't much of a commitment since I hadn't gone as far as deleting my account, but I felt it would still be a step in a positive (not technology-addicted) direction.
"I should delete Clash of Clans too..." I declared less definitively. Facebook and Clash of Clans were by far the two apps I wasted the most time on. Sometimes I'd go on my phone to send a text, and 30 minutes later I'd have FB stalked 5 people, and reorganized my Clash of Clans village, but not sent the text. With some remorse, I bid farewell to my internet friends/clan mates, and removed the app from my phone.
We took cold showers (the hot water hadn't been turned on yet), did laundry and crashed in what felt like the world's most comfortable bed.
The next day I was on a mission to get a mani-pedi. With my nails so disgustingly brown and chipped, I felt that there was nothing in the world that could make me feel better. I threw on my wool hiking socks, boots, hiking pants, and work-out shirt and headed to a nearby salon.
After my mani pedi, we stopped in CVS and I bought a three pack of cotton white ankle socks for $4. I tore off my sweaty wool socks and replaced them with my new crisp white ones.
"Look at you in your fancy ankle socks!" Bill exclaimed.
"I know! It's wonderful!" I remarked genuinely.
The mani-pedi was great, but these ankle socks made me feel even better. They somehow made me feel like a more civilized human being - like someone who was meant to be around other people. When I got back to the condo, I retired my wool socks for the rest of the trip.
Immediately after the hike, we stopped at a nearby restaurant to satisfy our craving for "real food." With my legs covered in thick matted dirt, my hair sticking stiffly to my head from sweating in a hat for 9 hours, and my general smelly hiking attire, I felt disgustingly conspicuous.
We licked our plates clean within 5 minutes of the food hitting our table. Our plates were damn near spinning when we headed out. I made sure to leave a good tip since I feared we may have been the reason the tables surrounding us remained unoccupied.
On the car ride to Tahoe I checked my texts and all the social medias. After scrolling through Facebook for about a half hour, I declared to Bill that I'm deleting the app from my phone. It wasn't much of a commitment since I hadn't gone as far as deleting my account, but I felt it would still be a step in a positive (not technology-addicted) direction.
"I should delete Clash of Clans too..." I declared less definitively. Facebook and Clash of Clans were by far the two apps I wasted the most time on. Sometimes I'd go on my phone to send a text, and 30 minutes later I'd have FB stalked 5 people, and reorganized my Clash of Clans village, but not sent the text. With some remorse, I bid farewell to my internet friends/clan mates, and removed the app from my phone.
We took cold showers (the hot water hadn't been turned on yet), did laundry and crashed in what felt like the world's most comfortable bed.
The next day I was on a mission to get a mani-pedi. With my nails so disgustingly brown and chipped, I felt that there was nothing in the world that could make me feel better. I threw on my wool hiking socks, boots, hiking pants, and work-out shirt and headed to a nearby salon.
After my mani pedi, we stopped in CVS and I bought a three pack of cotton white ankle socks for $4. I tore off my sweaty wool socks and replaced them with my new crisp white ones.
"Look at you in your fancy ankle socks!" Bill exclaimed.
"I know! It's wonderful!" I remarked genuinely.
The mani-pedi was great, but these ankle socks made me feel even better. They somehow made me feel like a more civilized human being - like someone who was meant to be around other people. When I got back to the condo, I retired my wool socks for the rest of the trip.
Day 96 - The Hike Out
At Lower Buck Lake we were about a 13 mile hike out of the forest. We decided to hike 9 miles back to Grouse Lake, and then hike 4 miles out the next day.
I set my alarm for the first time since we started backpacking so that I would be sure to catch the sunrise. It had been spectacular yesterday, but I hadn't been able to muster the strength to get out of my sleeping bag and take a picture.
However, like the stars at Gem Lake, that sunrise was a one-time thing. This morning dark grey clouds covered the opening in the mountains that the sun had shined so brightly through yesterday.
Even though the sunrise was not so spectacular, it was still a beautiful sight to watch as the sun finally peaked above the cloud cover, and the mountains slowly came to life.
Since we were up by dawn, we got an extra early start to our hike. We passed over familiar ground, going more or less the same way that we'd hiked in. I was in awe at much better the hike out felt than the hike in had. I knew that there were multiple reasons for this: it was downhill instead of uphill, we'd eaten a lot of the weight and had adjusted to the altitude, and most importantly, we had enough water. I had the "bro-y" (according to Bill) realization that it felt like the first and last downward dog in yoga. I walked over the same rocks out as I did in, yet I felt so different the second time around. I was relaxed and calm, rather than stressed and somewhat frantic. By the time we finished 9 miles and reached Grouse Lake, I felt better than I had the first time we reached the same lake after hiking only 4 miles in.
I set my alarm for the first time since we started backpacking so that I would be sure to catch the sunrise. It had been spectacular yesterday, but I hadn't been able to muster the strength to get out of my sleeping bag and take a picture.
However, like the stars at Gem Lake, that sunrise was a one-time thing. This morning dark grey clouds covered the opening in the mountains that the sun had shined so brightly through yesterday.
Even though the sunrise was not so spectacular, it was still a beautiful sight to watch as the sun finally peaked above the cloud cover, and the mountains slowly came to life.
Just before sunrise
As the sun peaked above the clouds
Since we were up by dawn, we got an extra early start to our hike. We passed over familiar ground, going more or less the same way that we'd hiked in. I was in awe at much better the hike out felt than the hike in had. I knew that there were multiple reasons for this: it was downhill instead of uphill, we'd eaten a lot of the weight and had adjusted to the altitude, and most importantly, we had enough water. I had the "bro-y" (according to Bill) realization that it felt like the first and last downward dog in yoga. I walked over the same rocks out as I did in, yet I felt so different the second time around. I was relaxed and calm, rather than stressed and somewhat frantic. By the time we finished 9 miles and reached Grouse Lake, I felt better than I had the first time we reached the same lake after hiking only 4 miles in.
Our packs taking a break a the lake
Bill jumped in the water, but I was deterred by all the critters that inhabited the lake. Being at a lower altitude than the other lakes, there were far more bugs, reptiles and amphibians at Grouse. It was fun to watch them jump and slither around, but I preferred not to swim with them.
Bill's swimming companion
The day was still young, and we surprisingly still had energy. After the mention of cheeseburgers and pizza, the idea of just hiking all the way out was put on the table. I wasn't sure I could stomach another freeze dried meal, for reasons I won't describe, and the thought of warm, real food had never before sounded so appealing.
So we grabbed our bags and trekked the last four miles out of the forest. It was a little rough at the end - the second to last mile is a steep uphill climb - but overall it wasn't bad. We took a little break after the uphill climb, before our final mile. I was proud of both of us, and happy at the thought of eating, but I was also a little sad. I don't think I'd ever experienced a vacation so entirely relaxing as this trip had been. As we walked along the path towards the parking lot where 'Ol Prizy (Bill's Chevy Prizm) was parked, I buzzed on and on about where our next backpacking trip should be.
At the top of the hill with one mile left
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Bear Can't Even
Because there are bears in the Emigrant Wilderness, we had to store all of our food in bear cans. At one point during our hike I loudly exclaimed, out of context, "more like bear can't!"
Bill, not having read my mind for the last 10 minutes, didn't know what I was talking about.
"Wouldn't that be a good brand name for a bear can?" I asked. "Bear can't!"
Then I thought of something even better. "There should be a bear can company geared towards young millennial woman who read Wild and think that backpacking can solve all their problems (like me). And it should be called 'Bear can't even!'"
I even pictured a 1950's-style ad-comic (with just the right amount of sexism), where a large eye-lashed, she-bear asks her strong male counterpart to open the bear can for her (like a can of pickles). She hands it over to him with a look of exasperation saying "I can't even..."
He struggles and struggles, as his large bear muscles bulge, but alas he can't open it either. She-bear walks away in a disappointed huff. With black anger swirls over his head he-bear mumbles, "I can't even..." referring to the high maintenance she-bear.
As I described the scenario to Bill I realized that this ad would never work if we were gearing the product towards strong women. Nevertheless, I continued to think about the exasperated bear couple for the next half hour or so, randomly shouting out new ideas, as if it had been equally on Bill's mind this whole time.
Bill, not having read my mind for the last 10 minutes, didn't know what I was talking about.
"Wouldn't that be a good brand name for a bear can?" I asked. "Bear can't!"
Then I thought of something even better. "There should be a bear can company geared towards young millennial woman who read Wild and think that backpacking can solve all their problems (like me). And it should be called 'Bear can't even!'"
I even pictured a 1950's-style ad-comic (with just the right amount of sexism), where a large eye-lashed, she-bear asks her strong male counterpart to open the bear can for her (like a can of pickles). She hands it over to him with a look of exasperation saying "I can't even..."
He struggles and struggles, as his large bear muscles bulge, but alas he can't open it either. She-bear walks away in a disappointed huff. With black anger swirls over his head he-bear mumbles, "I can't even..." referring to the high maintenance she-bear.
As I described the scenario to Bill I realized that this ad would never work if we were gearing the product towards strong women. Nevertheless, I continued to think about the exasperated bear couple for the next half hour or so, randomly shouting out new ideas, as if it had been equally on Bill's mind this whole time.
Day 95 - Without our Packs
We decided to stay two nights at Buck Lake, and therefore had another beach day. After lounging and reading for a while, I grew restless and got Bill to go on a day hike with me. We left our heavy packs and took off to explore the area around beautiful Buck Lake.
Upper Buck Lake
We walked around the upper edge of the lake, and headed towards Deer Lake on the north side. The path just kept ascending, so we decided to make our way to the top to see if there was a view. And there was...
Bill's realm
We sat on the peak for a while, but it began to feel lonely. I couldn't see or hear anyone anywhere in the vast wilderness. It's odd how it feels so good to be alone by the lake's edge surrounded by mountains, but so empty to be alone at the mountain's peak.
So we headed back down towards the shores of Buck Lake, where we passed the rest of the day.
Our campsite at Buck Lake
We spent the afternoon in the crystal clear water, swimming from island to island, exploring caves, and boulders on foot and in water. In the early evening I read more of Anna Karenin, a novel I once thought too intimating to start, but was now deep into.
I watched the sun set behind the mountains, and went to bed shortly after. I would open my eyes every once and a while to remind myself of the beauty around me.
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