Some of my friends choose not to go. I can't say whether they made the smart choice or not--actually, I'm sure they made the smart decision. But I do not regret any step of my More-than-fifty-miles-in-less-than-seventeen-hours.
But oh man, it was the hardest thing I've had to do this summer. And now you get to have the whole story from my point of view.
This is the Dreaded 50-20.
We went to a local museum where we could learn a little more about West Yellowstone. Afterwards, we went back to our camp site, a good forty minutes away at Island Park Scout Camp, where they were kind enough to have us set up tents for the night. We had an early dinner of pasta, a high-carb food to prepare us for the long hike. None of us really had an idea of what this would take. None of us really know how long 50 miles really is. We were the first to attempt it in the Grand Teton Council.
We decided to turn in early, right around 7 o'clock. A thunderstorm came in and after several minutes of constant rumbling, it began to pour. A few of my friends and I decided that rather than setting up a tent, we would sleep under a tarp. As it began to rain heavily, I realized as I slid my hand under my wet pillow, that the water was getting into the tarp. I found the source and quickly built a dam to stop the water. My friend, who had a water-proof sleeping bag, offered to take my spot. We quickly switched and then tried once again to go to sleep.
Suddenly, I felt water creeping into my sleeping bag near my feet. I looked down and discovered a pool of water down there. It was too late to save my sleeping bag; it was already soaked inside and out. I abandoned the sleeping bag and then removed it from the pool. Luckily, my pillow was still mostly dry. I left the tarp with my pillow under my arm and without any shoes on. Thankfully, the rain had ceased.
I walked over to the car where the adults were gathered and told them of my predicament. Luckily, we had a wool blanket and a denim blanket for me to use (and I say luckily because it was better than nothing, but just barely). I returned to the tent only to grab my supplies and shoes before going over to a tent to sleep in it.
And sleep I did. For about two hours. Everyone woke up by 1:30 to take down camp and then head to the trail head, a 40 minute drive. I got to eat a banana before we started. We arrived earlier than we had expected and set off at the unholy time of 2:40. We were told breakfast was ten miles away.
Turns out, it was sixteen miles away. But I get ahead of myself! When we started on the trail, it was still dark. We were forced to use flashlights for the first few hours. We started out with a fast pace. Unfortunately, we were unable to maintain this pace as, because of the threat of bears, we had to stick as a group. Some of the scouts who went on this outing weren't known for their fast hiking abilities.
Finally, it became light enough to see and we were able to increase the distance between the groups. It was a beautiful morning as a fog was settled on the trail and the surrounding mountainside.
Unfortunately, some of the scouts were forced to quit at breakfast. Either they choose themselves to stop or they were told that they could not continue as they could not keep the required pace, which was around four miles per hour.
Now, everything was fine until lunch. Not because lunch was necessarily bad, but because we were told that lunch would be a few miles earlier than it really was. Here's a picture I took a few miles before we stopped.
Now, when we sat down and ate lunch, we were all miserable. Everyone was definitely feeling the twenty-or-so miles we had just covered. Lunch consisted of sandwiches, bagels, and hard boiled eggs.
After we were finished, it took about five minutes for everyone to actually get started again. I remember that as I was walking from where I sat to the trail, I just wanted to lay down right there. I was tired both physically and mentally. I felt like I couldn't take another step, but I just kept going. I had gone too far to stop now.
To pass the time, I suggested to one of my friends who went to participate in a word game. Basically, I'd make a story line and leave him with choices to do what he wanted to do. Of course, we never finished the story. I became frustrated with what he was trying to do, which was make it funny, so I killed his character.
By this time, I began to realize that the trail was.... straight. It just wasn't straight, it was agonizingly straight. Since it was an old railroad, it had to stay straight. But the worse part was the scenery. It was the same. Mile after mile. It hardly seemed like we were moving at all. Agonizingly straight. Endlessly straight.
It drove me mad!
Of course, to stave off the madness, I made a poem, which I now forgot.
Sorry!
A while after lunch (I apologize for the absence of actual time. We were too focused on the trail to bother checking the time), the Scoutmaster was unable to continue. We were taking a short break, and he sat down and couldn't get back up. We hiked ahead to send a text message to some of the adults who were helping us with the hike.
After a few miles, the car and the five of us still hiking met at an intersection of the road and the trail. We told them where they were so they could pick up the Scoutmaster.
A few miles after that, at around five, we met up with the car again. The Scoutmaster and my dad, who had been hiking with us since the beginning, sat in the car. My dad hopped back out of the car to finish the hike. We were told that the trailer, where we could pick up some supplies and refill our water, was just two miles down the trail. As a group, we had decided to forgo dinner in favor of finishing the trail.
About a half-hour after we had left where the car was, it began to rain. We had seen the dark clouds coming closer and heard some distant lightning, but we didn't expect it to reach us. This rain wasn't your average rain either. It was almost hail and was being propelled at us with 30 mph winds. Luckily, it was at our backs.
About fifteen minutes after the rain started, the wind dies down, so it just began to pour. We kept saying, "Oh, the trailer is just up ahead, then we can grab our rain ponchos." We had forsaken them around lunch to save weight as we didn't expect to need them.
About four miles later, we began to doubt whether we were on the right trail. We also began to doubt the truthfulness of the distance to the trailer.
We were completely soaked all the way through. We were cold from head to toe. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that we'd reach civilization eventually. I was certain that we were on the wrong trail. It was only a few hours away from nightfall, and with the rain falling as heavily as it was, I didn't think we would have made it through the night.
Blisters, I can handle. Knees barely able to support my weight, no problem. Terrible chaffing in my groin was suffered without complaint. But when that rain fell and I was freezing cold.... Man, I could barely convince myself to keep moving. Surprisingly, when your body is fighting to maintain a constant temperature against the elements, all other pains just seem to fade away.
Another problem with the rain was after about ten minutes in it, my hair was so soaked, all water collected would run down my face. My glasses were covered with running water, so I was unable to see. I had to take off my glasses and hold them in my hand as I hiked. Underneath us, the water flowed down the trail in streams. I kept asking the two others after every bend, "Do you see anything up ahead?" and time after time, I received the answer, "Just another bend."
The final six had split into two groups with me being in the front one. Finally, we reached a tunnel in the trail. It was closed because of a cave-in, but it had an overhang were we decided to find brief respite from the torrential rain. After a few minutes of trying to get warm, we saw the other three coming down the trail. We followed them around the tunnel.
Ahead, we saw some of the adults that were helping us with the trail and some of the mothers of the scouts hiking the trail. One of them offered me her umbrella, which I gladly accepted. After a brief hike, we finally saw the cars parked near the trail. As it turns out, the two miles to the trailer was actually five miles. We decided that we would stop there as we were sure of having hiked all 50 miles. We finished in less than 17 hours.
The only problem was the two hour drive home. After we arrived, none of us could walk without using support of some kind. We all hobbled into the house where we hobbled to our rooms (mine downstairs, where it took me several minutes to manage the descent). We all began to prepare to take showers. One of my friends who wimped out was over at the house to hang out with my older brother who had come home from college for the 4th of July weekend.
When I saw him, I promptly said, "I regret nothing!" and then I winced in pain at the terrible chaffing (by this time, I had to walk with my feet four feet apart and still only move a few inches at a time) and at the terrible fire I felt in my knees.
The next day, I had the privilege of playing organ in my church meeting. As I hobbled up to the organ, the people who had gone on the 60-17, as I like to call it, snickered at me.
Like I said, I regret no part of it. It was a hard thing and I'm proud to say that I accomplished it. I have some great stories from it and some great things to yell at my kids. If I were approached and asked to do it again, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Except, maybe I'd exercise a little more beforehand... and wear socks that don't fall apart halfway through the trial.