Sup Losers. Today’s story is about two girls who decided to try backpacking on a whim, prepared TERRIBLY, got their butts kicked, and had the time of their lives. Let’s get to it.

Like all great ideas Mahala and I come up with, this one happened in a Starbucks when we were just a little over-caffeinated and a little too ambitious. “Hey Mahala, you know what would be really stupid and really fun? Let’s go BACKPACKING.”

Now, I’m sure you remember from the “Dirty Girls” series that Mahala is a princess who likes showering ever day, and I’m a big baby who sleeps on a mattress made of unicorn fur and clouds. So what on earth possessed us to do this? I wish I knew the answer.

So here we go. We (read: I. Mahala doesn’t care what I plan as long as I take care of the planning) did the research, planned the route, got the time off work, and secured a vehicle for the drive. This was all hastily and poorly planned, and we were running all over hells half acre the night before we were supposed to leave still gathering supplies. We stayed up until, like… 12:30am? packing bags and getting our lives together, and I got up at 4:30am the next day to start the drive.

Lesson #1 of backpacking, half the crap you put in your backpack is crap you probably will not need but you will be 110% screwed if you don’t pack. First aid kit, extra food/water, emergency supplies. Don’t skimp on the stuff that will save your bacon if you get jumped by Yogi the Bear. Anywho.

Day One:

Off we went, heading for Crater Lake (friendly reminder that they charge an entrance fee, don’t forget to look it up). We made some stops on the way because we were still remembering stuff we needed but hadn’t got yet. C’est la vie. We arrive mid-day, and head for LostCreek Campground. It’s a little first come first serve area of Crater Lake that only charges $5 a night. South-East Corner of the lake. You’re very close to others, but hey, they have bathrooms. This was a first stop so we could get a good rest before actually setting out to backpack. We pitched the tent, set camp, ate snacks, and read books.

While we were reading in our little camp chairs, we were approached by a man with a little dog. We got to talking to him, and he told us the dog was in training for service work and they were traveling the country together! He was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and decided to use his time to fulfill the bucket list items of those who were too sick to travel. I swear, you meet the nicest people in the outdoors.

As we were talking, he asked if we could guess what language his dog was trained in. Okay, I’m down for a challenge. He gave the pup a few commands and the hint “it’s a language from far, far away”. Hmm… I guess Swedish? Swahili? Then it hit me! “Far, far away!” Klingon!

We cracked up! I asked him what on earth possessed him to train a service dog in Klingon? “Well, after I’m gone and the dog is placed with a handler, I want someone to be saying god damn it, Liam! You know, to keep my memory alive!” What a legend.

We spent the rest of the evening reading, sleeping in the tent, and just catching up.

Day Two: Lets do this!

We wake up at the ripe hour of 11am, a little salty that we slept so late, but oh well. We pack our bags and head for the rangers station to get a backcountry camping permit (gotta have it if you plan on backpacking out there). The lovely lady there helped us work out an itinerary and asked us a bunch of questions to get a feel for if we had prepared properly. She also made sure to tell us that if we got our happy butts in trouble, we had to pay the $100 for search and rescue to come get us. Wonderful.

We decided on a three day, two night trip, about 25 miles. “Psh, that’s easy! We hike longer than that all the time!” And that brings us to our next word of wisdom.

Lesson Two: DO NOT, and I mean it, DO NOT assume just because you can hike 10 miles in one stretch with a day pack on, you can hike slightly less than that with a 50 POUND BACKPACK ON. Learn from my mistakes. It sounds like common sense in hindsight but we were bright eyed, bushy tailed, and had something to prove.

Lesson Three: Your pack should not be any heavier than 20% of your body weight. I weight 140lbs. My pack shouldn’t exceed about 30lbs. MY DUMB SELF PACKED 50 POUNDS. DON’T DO THAT. Why was your pack so heavy, Morgan? What could you possibly have packed? I’ll get into that later. I swear my logic was sound, it was just TERRIBLE execution.

We parked the car up by the Lodge, and set out. We made it like, a mile before I realized my “ultralight water bottle” (a glorified plastic bag with a spout) had a hole, and leaked all over me. But hey, no worries, we have plenty of water! After all, I only packed AN ENTIRE PACKAGE OF WATER BOTTLES IN MY BACKPACK. And now you know part of the reason my pack was so stupidly heavy.

Lesson Four: Pack smarter. Just buy a water filter if you’re going on a multi day journey. I didn’t wanna drop the big bucks on a filter for this trip and thought “we’ll be drinking water the entire time, that just means my pack will keep getting lighter!” Stupid, stupid, stupid. And also, if you’re gonna get ultralight gear (which I recommend to an extent) then don’t cheap out. It’s beyond frustrating to have to carry around broken gear. And empty water bottles.

The trail around the rim of Crater Lake is… um… very hill-y. Up and down and up and down and up and down…. aka, killer if you’re wearing a very heavy pack. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been so bad if we pack smarter but we’re stupid, and I digress. I was thankful for the fact that I chose hiking boots with a high ankle. I personally think those are the best choice for newbie hikers, better ankle support. Less chance of busting them. But the trade off it that they’re hotter, so whatever works best for you. The view around the rim is beautiful, and it was nice to be somewhere somewhat familiar to us.

We got to the Lightening Spring trailhead after awhile. We were already dead by this point, and we had barely started. What did I get us into?? But we persisted. This part of the hike was largely downhill. Which in theory, sounds great, until you realize that trying to stop your momentum going down hill with a giant pack is killer on your legs.

Since we had reached a largely secluded section of trail, so we busted out the Bluetooth speaker (I know, I know. It’s extra weight but in my opinion, totally worth it). And before anyone jumps at me for being one of those dummies who blasts music on the trails and ruins it for everyone else, calm down. We could see people coming from a literal mile away and we turned it off the moment we spotted them. Many people backpack to escape the noise of modern life, and I get that. We personally like music when we hike because singing and dancing our way down the trail distracts from the “oh my god I may actually cut my legs off to escape this pain” feeling, and it has the added benefit of scaring away bears.

OH YEAH! DID I MENTION WE WERE IN BEAR TERRITORY? Yeah, right at the time of year when the cubs are getting kicked out and have to learn to fend for themselves and get curious as to what snacks lay in the tents they find along the way. Along with music, I was shouting “HEEEEEY BEARS!” Every five minutes or so just to be sure. Black bears are scaredy cats who don’t want anything to do with people. Just don’t sneak up on them. And obviously do your research on bear safety.

We started with my hiking playlist that mainly consists of Disney music, Queen, and random country songs (Country rooooooaaaads! Take me hoooooooooome!). We danced down the hills, mainly crossing meadow type areas and dusty fields. We stopped frequently to catch our breath but we DID NOT DARE take off our packs. I was terrified that if we did, it would hurt so much more once we started walking again. You know, like with high heels?

After crossing flowery meadows, we reached an area of the park that the 2017 wildfires had torn up. Blackened trees loomed over us and provided no protection from the harsh sun. We tried to keep up on sunscreen but there’s only so much SPF 100 can save you from. My shoulders and arms were charred and the straps of the pack rubbed at the burns.

Lesson Five: There’s a reason backpacker dress Like That. My synesthesia makes me a little touchy to different clothes and it’s worse when I’m exercising. So I wore my tried-and-true cheerleading spandex shorts and a running tank top. I won’t make that mistake again. My tight shorts rubbed at my legs, and trapped sweat in. My tank top offered me no protection from the sun and bugs. I will gladly be swapping them out for a long sleeve hiking shirt with SPF and a pair of flowy, quick drying hiking shorts.

After several hours of baking in the sun, getting eaten alive, and sweating more than I could replace, I just hit a meditative place. My mind was completely blank. I felt like a machine. My pack would force me to the ground if my legs stopped moving, so I just didn’t stop. It sounds miserable, but I live for this. That blank headspace is what pushed me through years of competitor cheerleading, and killer hikes. It’s almost freeing to let go of all the physical pain. It’s also where 90% of the mental healing I get from hiking happens. I feel like I can be alone with my thoughts.

By this point, we exhausted my hiking playlist and transitioned to Mahala’s worship music. Warning: Church talk ahead. We marched on, flowing back and forth between praying and singing along to the music. This is a big reason Mahala and I like to go on adventures together. It’s important to us that we take the time to unplug and experience our relationship with God without distraction. It’s like my soul gets power washed if that makes literally any sense. All the nonsense I carry with me every day is left behind and I can focus on what’s important to me. Love. Friendship. Connection. Self-improvement. All that jazz.

And here’s a part that Mahala and I are still laughing at. Obviously when you’re feeling a lot of physical pain, there’s a lot of emotions simmering. Combine that with lots of happy chemicals, mental exercise, and just being really comfortable with your best friend. Now, combine that with one of the songs we were listening to hitting just a little too deep and you have by dumb self bursting into tears at absolutely nothing. Don’t ask me what my malfunction was, but it wasn’t a bad cry. It was like a oh my god I am so relieved and happy and I feel so good right now and I can’t hold it in kind of cry.

So here I am, red as a lobster, covered in bug bites, sinking under the weight of a pack, drenched in sweat, and sobbing my eyes out with the biggest smile on my face. I probably looked like a damn lunatic.

Sometime after that, we got to the point where Lightening Springs becomes the Pacific Crest Trail. And let me tell you, I was thrilled. I’ve wanted to tromp my boots on the PCT for forever. And here I was, standing where many stood before me, enjoying a little slice of adventure that I’m sure would never compare to those who’ve hiked the whole thing. My spirits felt a little more renewed as we stomped down into the more forested part of the trail. Getting out of the sun was a huge relief, but the bugs just got worse and worse.

We got to one of the designated campgrounds, and decided to pass it by. We didn’t wanna hike an extra two miles on the chance that the campground was full. Those two miles might as well have been a marathon. No thanks. And we figured we still had plenty of water (we didn’t.) so we just kept trucking.

Lesson Six: Drink water. Then drink even more. And more. And more. In hindsight we were so ridiculously dehydrated but we didn’t even realize it. That’s also probably part of the reason we got so sunburnt and our legs hurt so bad. You need more water than you think. Like, a gallon a day depending on what kind of miles you’re doing. Drink. More. Water. Again, it seems like common sense, but you’d be amazed that would just forget to drink.

After a couple more miles, we just couldn’t do it anymore. We searched for a place to set camp. We admittedly picked a terrible spot out of desperation. It was on a hill, covered in sticks, and offered very little protection from wind chill. But it was a secluded spot with trees around us, hiking us from the trails. (Reminder to always practice Leave No Trace principles and to follow whatever rules the park has set.) I took off my backpack to walk down to the clearing and check it out and oh my god. I was wildly unprepared for the feeling of weightlessness that comes from taking your pack off for the first time in ten miles. I felt like I was on the damn moon. You know those weird dreams where you’re running from someone but you can’t seem to run straight and the whole world in spinning? It was like that. It took me awhile to reorient. We ate some snacks, pitched the tent, and rolled out sleeping bags. This part we didn’t struggle with at all. No no no, this was the part where we both realized that neither of us actually knew how to tie up our food (you know, the way people put their food in a tree so bears don’t get it?) and we had to figure it out while delirious and in more pain than either of us had ever experienced. Now, instead of doing it the logical way, we tied a rope to our bag, and tried to yeet the heavy food bag over a branch. Do you think this worked at all? Well, it didn’t. It took forever but we eventually got the food up.

We were so tired that we didn’t even changed out of our clothes, we just took our socks off, got in our bags, and passed the hell out.

Lesson Six: Aka, the reasons Mahala and I FROZE OUR BUTTS OFF ALL NIGHT. Wear long underwear to bed. And CLEAN SOCKS. I beg you. That moisture trapped in your clothes will make you so, so, so cold. It was miserable. Also, just because your sleeping bag is rated for 32 degree weather does not mean you will sleep comfortably. It means that your sleeping bag will prevent you from dying in 32 degree weather.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t get warm enough no matter what I did. When I did fall asleep, Mahala would immediately wake me up. “Morgan! There’s a bear outside.”

“There’s no bear, Mahala. Go to sleep.”

“But I heard a bear! It was breathing loud! Can you yell and scare it away?”

“I’m sleeping! Why can’t you yell at it!”

“You’re better at it!”

Oh my god. So, I yelled at the “bear” and went back to sleep. Rinse and repeat four more times until Mahala finally realized that the “bear” was me snoring when I finally dozed off. I gave up on sleep eventually and stayed awake reading until Mahala fell asleep first. Then I could finally sleep. We wound up practically on top of each other trying to stay warm, and even then it was hard to stay asleep. Needless to say, we’re upgrading to 0 degree mummy bags for the next trip.

I’mma split this up into two parts. This is a wall of text. Check out “I want to break free!” For part two.