the guad trip
We heard the warning from past walkabouts, "ohhh the Guad Trip...get ready...it'll either bring you closer to together or tear you apart." We were told to prepare for the worst. Rainy, cold nights in smelly, soaked sleeping bags, hiking ridge lines all day with blistering feet and bruised hips. Backpacking was new to most of us. I honestly didn't see how we were going to pull off climbing mountains when just a few weeks before the camp eagle hills turned our legs into jello. It was quite apparent this was going to be hard. Compared to the first trail trip, this almost sounded like it might as well have been a decent to Everest...I felt completely unprepared but nervously very excited.
The Guadalupe mountains were the "make it or break it" type of expedition. With full packs, we trudged up 2000ish feet in elevation within the first few miles on day one. The climb kinda felt like the longest staircase in existence. Thankfully the rain held off till we made it most of the way up. Sometimes we'd stop and look up at the giant sheets of jagged rock that stood there like magnificent statues, as if they were guardians of the Texas flatland behind them. Not to be trifled with, showing off its ridges and valleys in between patches of hazy fog resting on the surface. It was beautiful to say that least. The higher we hiked, the smaller we seemed compared to the great expanse before us. When we finally made it to our camp site the first night, I couldn't stop smiling despite my shattering teeth. I was so proud of us. We worked together as team and never gave up. That was an accomplishment it of itself. We encouraged each other through the pain in our lungs and legs. And I think getting through that first hike propelled us to push harder as we hiked more distance the following few days. That night, sleeping on the ground never felt so rewarding. The windy rain had rolled in that evening and coated the outside of our tent walls as we let our muscles rest after a very long day.
Day two began with frigid fingers and pop tarts. The elevation was not nearly as drastic but the trail was much harder to follow. It rained all day. Keeping boots dry was a joke, we sloshed around with soggy socks. I remember I could feel myself getting stronger as the day went on. Just the morning before, we had stood at the base of the mountain after splitting up group gear and squishing all the supplies in every nook and cranny of our packs. We hoisted them quite clumsily onto our backs for the first time, understanding the weight we were about to take on. I felt like Cheryl Strayed (from the book/movie called Wild) in her motel room with Monster (her pack) on her first day hiking the PCT. After finally shifting the giant thing onto my shoulders, I gazed up at the mountain then looked straight at Ashley and half kidding, half struck with panic I said, "Dude, I'm not gonna make it..." She shot back with a smile, "Yes you will." I didn't believe her.
About 24 hours later, we had made it to the top and was hiking through a gorgeous, lush ridge line. My legs had gotten used to the weight by then and now all the mattered was not loosing balance and toppling over into pretzel position like Jordan had the day before...(funniest moment ever). The fog followed us the whole day, sinking into the green landscape. We compared it to Jurassic Park, keeping an eye out for any hungry pterodactyls that had an appetite for loud, sweaty hikers. The trail was harder to follow, sometimes we relied solely on cairns and even then it got tricky. We all tried our best to stayed positive when we'd loose the trail because it didn't take too long for us to figured it out and keep on going.
We started day three pretty strong too. We ended up crossing paths with the boys that morning. They seemed just as exhausted. We all looked pretty gnarly. The fog cleared out that day and we got to dry out our sleeping bags and wet clothes in the sun. Lunch was eaten overlooking the clouds below us and basking in the warmth of the sun for the first time in days.
During the trip, we studied the story of Joseph. And one of the cool things about Joseph is he just lived for God and for God alone. God saw favor in him because of his faithfulness in the midst of hardship. When Joseph was sent to jail after being accused of taking advantage of Potiphar's wife, he never felt the need to justify his actions. He accepted his circumstance because he knew the truth and decided to embrace is present situation, knowing God was in control. He carried himself as a vessel for God, not to protect any sort of reputation. Joseph led a life of goodness that only came, not because of anything he did, but just because of his willingness to serve the Lord. He was willing to work hard and stay faithful. Because of that, Joseph became a leader within prison then eventually became second in command over the land of Egypt during a terrible famine. He was able to help people, reunite with his family and extend forgiveness. Its such a cool picture of what I think Walkabout is all about. We are there to grow but also to be a vessel for God to use to glorify is kingdom. All we have to do is be willing and work hard. God can do big things with average people if they're just willing to work. Joseph was never seeking approval from anyone. He wasn't worried about loosing "followers" or a good reputation. All he desired was to show people how cool his God was. I wonder how much more we'd get done if all we worried about was working hard in response to the goodness of our Father?
We packed up and started our decent down on our last day at 6ish in the morning. The hike down was tough. Everyone was tired, ready to shower and eat anything that wasn't granola or summer sausage. It was pouring rain as we kinda slip-slided our way down endless switchbacks. HP saved my life like twice. Whatta gal. All I could think about was how fantastic it will be to see the van. It was like envisioning the finish line in last stretch of a grueling race, when there's still a good chunk to go but quitting is never an option. We ate lunch in a caved area once we finally got down to the valley. Pretty cool. We made our way through the last few miles, almost running down. Then there it was. The van that we had dreaded getting squished into on the trip there now stood as symbol such accomplishment. We blissfully screamed in victory. The guys drove up with the other van and the celebration of being reunited ensued with manchester orchestra blaring from the speakers. The whole situation felt like that climax of good movie, everything in slow motion to deepen the sentimental gravity of the moment. So much happy. I'll never forget it.
We learned a ton from that trip. It didn't break us. Not even a little. The only casualty was Taylor's zero degree sleeping bag over the side of a cliff. Walkabout is already almost halfway over and God has been teaching me so much. But specifically that trip, I was inspired. Every single one those girls inspired me each day to keep going because they had the gumption to kept going too. We laughed a lot and embraced the rawness of being on trail. These people are family. I'm so thankful for these experiences, everything they have taught me and all the lessons still to learn. We "embraced the suck" and it was so worth it.
