Committed!

Ever since Commitment Crew was introduced at Arbor CrossFit, I've used it to motivate myself to attend classes. Before Commitment Crew, I would balk at going to sessions where the movements weren't my favorites. I'd avoid wall balls and sometimes burpees and the always awful air bike. Sometimes, I'd just not feel up to whatever it happened to be and I'd slack.

But Commitment Crew lights a fire under my tail. The goal of getting 20 classes in per month drives me to create and stick to a schedule so that I can fulfill that number along with any other obligations that I have that month, whether that's travel or other plans or even training for a Spartan Race (or running one). I like having a concrete number goal to reach for and plan for. And I like the recognition that I get when I am successful. My name goes on the board and on social media, along with all the others who completed that month.

Last year, I managed to do 12 months in a row. Even with my backpacking trips over the summer months, I schemed and planned and made it. This year, I figured  wouldn't be able to make July, because of the solo hike through the Frank Church. It was going to take up a large amount of my month, so I didn't feel like it was likely that I'd be able to get it done.

But that didn't stop me from working on the first six months of the year - in which I got on the crew each month. So I looked at my calendar and figured out what I'd need to do in order to get 20 classes done by the 18th of July.

With no other commitments, that would be easy, because I could double up classes on Saturdays and Sundays by going to both the house WOD and the Open Hour. But I wouldn't be able to make class on the 5th because I had to work and Arbor was on a holiday schedule (classes at 8, 9 and 10 only). And I needed to get a backpacking trip under my belt before the big solo, so I was planning to be out of town the 6th, 7th and 8th.

That required a bit of a radical schedule. On Mondays and Thursdays (except holidays), I could also do 2 classes, because an Endurance class was offered in the 6 am slot. I planned to go every day I was in town, basically, with two classes Mondays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays. No rest days. I consulted with my husband about this crazy plan and, to my surprise, he approved of it. He figured it was good prep for backpacking - in part, I think, because I get up for the 5 am class on weekdays, which fits well with a backpacking schedule.

Our backpacking trip got cut short due to illness and severe weather, so I ended up being able to do 2 classes on Monday the 8th. That allowed me to have 2 whole rest days in my crazy schedule of classes between the 8th and the 18th.

I made it work. I got the classes done, and prepared myself for the rigor that backpacking through the Frank Church is going to require. Getting up early and working hard. After all, hiking 20 miles in a day is just 10 hours of hiking at 2 miles per hour - an easy pace for me. With 14 hours of daylight, I have plenty of time to get it done.

And I might even make Commitment Crew for the year again on top of my 150 miles through the Frank Church.

Little Queens River July 2019 - Day 2

The alarm was set for 5:30 am, but I think we both woke up before it went off. I knew what was likely coming, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. Ambrose had actually refused to finish dinner the night before, in addition to almost vomiting. He was sick. Not super sick, but sick enough that going out to Browns Lake would not be a good idea for us. It was not the time to push things, but the time to pull back and ensure we didn't injure ourselves.

So we changed our plans and turned around. I was whiny about it, but I blame the fact that I kind of forgot about him being sick the night before. The storm clear pushed the memory right out of my head with a surge of adrenaline.

In lieu of the extra hiking to Browns Lake, Ambrose suggested that I hike with him. That way, instead of hiking back super fast to the car and then waiting for him, I'd be hiking a lot longer by going at his speed.

And, oh by the way, I'd be there if he started feeling more ill.

There were a number of freshly fallen trees as we started the hike back.

The tarn near our campsite.

Fallen trees.

This is probably the worst section of the trail that we traversed for downed trees across the trail.

I could tell they were freshly fallen because of the color of the dirt. 

The morning was cloudy, but no rain.

This tree was not a fresh fall. 

The dirt had already gone gray instead of being damp and brown.

Early morning water crossings - not my favorite.

But there were less fallen trees on the other side.

Plenty of water though.

Ambrose in a little meadow.

Okay, there were still some fallen trees...

I attempted (successfully) to cross by climbing up that log angling up the far bank on the left.

Whenever I try to zoom way in on these flowers they get blurry. So pretty!

Almost to the second crossing.

The tiniest of flowers.

I think this one was down on the way up. 

The river looks more wild than it actually was.

 Before we crossed the Little Queens for the second time that morning, Ambrose and I settled down to have some lunch. It was around 11 in the morning, but I figured we could use the calories. And I wanted to have something to eat before braving the water.

As we sat and ate, a large group of hikers came up behind us and got ready to cross. Ambrose chatted with one of the men, who said they had come down from Johnson Lake that day after a trip in which they hiked up to Scenic Lake, then went across country to Browns Lake, then traversed around from Browns Lake to High Pass, then down to Johnson Lake. They were going to go to Pats Lake, but decided against it and visited The Hole (a lake above Johnson) instead.

I took the guy's rendition at face value, but after they left, Ambrose had some doubts. There were two children in the group, and a dog. He wasn't sure that they could have come down from Johnson to where we were in the time they had. And he definitely thought that children and dogs would have difficulty with the cross-country going between Scenic and Browns, which would involve a good amount of boulder scrambling. So, who knows what they really did.

Ambrose crossing.

This deer had a tag around her neck; like a collar with a white laminated name tag. We didn't get a good look at it, but I've never seen anything like that before. 

An established go-around for these fallen trees.

Almost back to the car.

Beautiful Little Queens.

More scrambles.

Ambrose spotted this little guy and pointed him out. I couldn't get the camera out before he ran away, but he ran down that branch, onto another tree, then right back up the branch. Then he posed for me and I took the shot.

Where the Little Queens (upper right) flows into the Queens.

When we got back to the car, I did not, as per my usual custom, rush to the car to take my boots off. Because I wasn't wearing boots. I was wearing the Altra trail runners, and they did not make my feet feel like they were being squeezed into a vise (a protective vise, but a vise nonetheless). So I took my time getting myself all set to wipe off with facial cleansing wipes and getting changed into clean clothes. There were some other people at the trailhead so I couldn't take my pants off in the parking area. I walked over to the vault toilet to do that. 

And when I came back, Ambrose informed me that he had just vomited in the grass. 

Twice. 

On that note, I drove us back home. We skipped the traditional post-backpacking trip milkshakes, because by that point I was also feeling a bit sick. Instead, we were looking forward to a nice evening meal of soup broth and Saltines. 

Little Queens River July 2019 - Day 1

What with all the training for Spartan that I was busy with in May and June (and well, since last October, but I'm looking at backpacking months), my husband and I didn't get many chances to go out and go backpacking this season until the 4th of July weekend. The plan was to head out on Saturday, hike about halfway to Browns Lake, then go the rest of the way to Browns on Sunday and hike all the way out to the car on Monday.

That was the plan.

That's not how the trip went.

But that is how it started. There were quite a number of cars at the Queens River Trailhead - not quite as many as there had been for the Eclipse, but more than any other time than that. As we got ready to go, some people came in from the wilderness with something that I've never seen before. Pack goats. Three goats, all with gorgeous sets of horns and bright orange pack saddles. I'm still not over how cute and weird it was.

Ambrose went and talked to them; they had been up at Browns and the trail was fine, but there were a lot of downed trees.

There weren't any permits in the box, so we grabbed one from our glove box, where we knew to preserve some for just such occasions as this. It's a shame that there weren't permits there to record all the users enjoying the trail over the 4th.

Told you there were goats.

I love entering the wilderness.

They put the sign back up! 

The snags started early, but they weren't too bad at first.

Even Ambrose could walk under that one.

At this point, my new pack felt funky, but I wasn't sure what to do about it.

A decent crossing here. 

A relatively fresh tree fall.

More detours.

The sign for the river crossing is mostly gone.

Some fallen trees obscured our usual path across the Little Queens, but it was low enough to take an alternate.

Ambrose getting ready to continue.

More snags.

Nice little stream crossing. I really need to check my lens more often for blurs.

This stream loves to get Ambrose wet - and it did it again this day.

There will be a lot more of these as the burned trees lose their purchase.

A little rain in the sunshine while I waited for Ambrose to catch up.

Another little stream crossing. A good water year.

At this crossing, a group of men and a dog came up while we were making our way across. They didn't bother to take their shoes off, but they did wait for us to cross. 

Yeah... this is trail. 

So many fallen trees.

Some of them had paths worn around them. 

Deer!

Neinmeyer junction - almost there. 

They just didn't end.

Another deer, near our campsite. 

We camped near a tarn; not a usual spot for us, but it would work for just one night. Ambrose set about getting water while I got the tent up. There were storm clouds blowing out of nowhere and I wanted to get us ready to hunker down should it start raining. Our filters had issues, which led Ambrose to delay getting in the tent, even when it started raining.

I ended up doing the cooking, because he was worrying about water. When I got him to take a few minutes to eat a fruit smash, he nearly vomited some of it up. That was the first hint of something wrong. Well, it should have been the second or third, but I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have.

After I cooked up our Pad Thai, I did manage to get him into the tent for a little bit while we endured some rain showers. But then he was up and out again for a bit. When the weather broke a little bit, I went outside for a call of nature, willingly suffering some rain drops in exchange for not having to hold it while waiting out the storm. 

And storm it was. 

We got ready to sleep and I read aloud to Ambrose from 1984. And then the wind rose. It was a sound like crashing, like a waterfall had abruptly moved into hearing range. A rushing, howling harbinger of sound that preceded gusts of wind that shook our tent and torrents of rain. Thunder boomed and lighting flashed and Ambrose and I were no longer at all sleepy. 

I asked him if he had ever experienced something like that in a tent. He was supposed to say yes, but he said no. I was NOT reassured. 

But our duplex tent held up. It got blown about, but didn't blow down. We got a bit of water entering, but I think that was more due to the fact that the two of us don't really fit well in a duplex. Our sleeping pads together barely fit, and the door zippers strain. So with all of our stuff inside, it's no surprise there was some rain coming in. But not much. 

I kept reading aloud because of the adrenaline rush from the storm. But the weather calmed down and we didn't have any more excitement that night. 

Well... unless you count when Ambrose woke me up in the middle of the night because he was cramping up. See, he had somehow neglected to do consume electrolytes along with his water - quite unusual for him - and now he was suffering the consequences. I woke up enough to get him some Liquid IV to drink, because I love him, and then I went back to sleep, because I was tired.