The Evolution of Adventure

I decided that maybe it was time to start blogging again, or at least temporarily have it come out of hibernation. I haven't really felt too wordy lately, so I'll probably just start doing shorter posts. We'll see how things pan out...

The Summer of Adventure?!

After the amazing ski season I had, I was thinking maybe this would be the summer of adventure. In addition to our typical hiking and backpacking, I was thinking of crazier backpacking trips, climbing mountains, SUP (suggested to me by Maggie Moo - a great suggestion too!), etc., ... you know, adventure! Well, there was some adventure in there, but not like I had envisioned. As it would turn out, I had more adventure doing our normal summer hiking and backpacking than I anticipated. Who knew?!

It started out like last summer, mixing weekends up between hiking and backpacking. No big deal. We went to Young Lakes and Minaret Lake early in the season - both with a lot of illegal camping and morons (note: we were not the morons or the ones camping illegally). We had fun dealing with hail at Moonlight Lake, but loved seeing the clouds move all around the Evolution peaks (stunning)! We had to cancel our Bear Lakes Basin trip due to major storms over the July 4th holiday weekend, but what we did instead was just as much fun! Swimming in Upper (burrr) and Lower Lamarck Lakes with Moosie, riding an adaptive bike in the parade with DSES, pre-celebrating an engagement with Carlynn and Grady. Not too shabby. While it feels like there hasn't been as much backpacking as last summer, there has been more hiking mixed with other adventures (like SUP, Blues-a-palooza, etc). Adventure!

Enjoying the views on the way to the summit of Mt Dana!

Moonlight Lake between rounds of hail.
Seeing Darwin again for the first time in years brought tears to my eyes.

The Return to Evolution

Evolution. It has eluded me since the summer before breaking my back. It's the one place that I've been yearning to return to since the accident, even more than Precipice Lake. It's haunted me for the past two and a half years. I set goals the past two summers about returning to Evolution - or at least setting eyes on it again. I failed at reaching those goals. With the lack of backpacking we'd done this summer, I was starting to wonder if Evolution would elude me for yet another summer. We were about to find out...

I knew what was coming on this trip. I knew what was going to happen in Evolution Basin. That 'pressure' made this trip even more important. I needed to make it to Evolution this year - for myself most importantly, but also for what Dave had in store. I knew there was a ring - we gave it to Maggie Moo and Jim to keep safe for us while in the backcountry. I knew there was an adventure ahead of us, and I was ready to embrace it (version 1.4 or so of our original plans). 

Note: I'm going to let the photos do the story telling. I'm taking a different spin on this post since words can't explain what it meant to me to be back in Evolution again. Yes, I shed tears at the sight of Darwin and Mendel from Lamarck Col. Yes, I shed even more tears of joy as I set my eyes on Evolution Lake, Sapphire Lake, and all of Evolution Basin again. Did I mention that Evolution has always held a special place in my heart? It's extra special now...

Darwin and Mendel from Lamarck Col. Tears of joy were shed.

Hmmm. Apparently we failed to pay attention to the potential for smoke. Smoke from the Rough Fire would be with every day on this trip. Not ideal, but I WAS BACK IN EVOLUTION! 

Darwin Canyon is absolutely stunning. The lakes are beautiful shades of blue that even the smoke couldn't mask. At least the smoke was clearing a bit.

Home, sweet home. Darwin Bench is amazingly green and lush. A great place to end the day - 8+ miles, lots of elevation gain/loss, miles of smiles.

Evolution Lake. It'd been 3+ years since I'd been here. I still can't find the words to adequately express what it meant to return to this amazing place after the ups and downs of the past 2.5 years of being bionic.

Sapphire Lake. I could sit here for weeks and just soak it all in. Hands down my favorite lake in all of the Sierra. Sorry, Precipice... #sorrynotsorry

The smoke started to drift in as we approached Wanda Lake. Black Giant, Muir Pass and the Goddard Divide are still stunning, even when smoke dances around them. Goddard would wait for another trip...

Muir Hut and the moonscape that is Evolution Basin. It was getting much smokier by this point and it was quite trippy not being able too see the views that were etched in our minds from three years ago. McGee was just cloaked in smoke... such a unique perspective on things.

Proof that we made it to Muir Hut. It was so good to be back here. So many memories.

What a difference a few hours makes. Heading back down toward Evolution Lake from Muir Pass. The smoke made it seem like we were in a whole different world. Mind blowing how quickly it changed...

Sapphire Lake is still stunning, regardless of the conditions. There's something about this lake and Mt Huxley that I just absolutely love. Stunning.

So... this happened at Evolution Lake. I said yes, obviously. Totally caught me off guard because after we ruled out Goddard, I thought it would happen at Sapphire Lake or Muir Hut. It didn't happen at either place. All of a sudden, I hear "Moon River" playing and then it happened. Note the lack of Mt Huxley in the background due to the smoke. Many thanks to Maggie for the hilarious ring she let Dave use in the backcountry. That as a surprise and I still owe her a good ass-kicking for that. 

Smokey sunset at Evolution Lake. An amazing day on so many levels. 15+ miles, lots of memories.

A bluebird morning at Evolution Lake. No complaints.

One of the iconic views of Evolution from McClure Meadow. Three years ago I was too focused on miles on the JMT, that I forgot to enjoy all of the views... and forgot to get this one. I didn't forget this trip. It was so nice... until three annoying kids decided to talk in the loudest voices possible. At least I had 10 minutes of peace and quiet!

Well, we knew the smoke would be back. At least it waited until we were out of Evolution Valley. This was the view before we started the switchbacks down to the junction with Goddard Canyon. A lot of elevation loss in a short distance!

Smokey sunset colors as we finally reached Hutchinson Meadow. We apparently were on a roll while hiking and so we kept going, rather than setting up camp at a popular junction at 2pm in the smoke. The map make the last 5+ miles to the meadow look mellow. Instead there was some sadistic up and down and up and down at the beginning. Oh well, adventure! It was also ridiculously smokey at this point - Pilot Knob was in front of us and we couldn't see it! Yikes! 19+ miles, a lot of elevation loss, gain and smoke!

Bluebird morning on our last day of our trip (cut it short due to the unhealthy inhaling of smoke). When we got to Piute Pass, we could see the smoke starting to rise. 12 miles of mellow hiking - except for my knee that was about to die from the day before. 

Maggie and I recreating the Evolution Lake photo with the real ring. She delivered the pretty blue box to Dave and he proposed again in front of friends and complete strangers. Oh, and he turned bright red too. Such fun! 

More photos here: The Evolution of a Proposal

Adventure is in the eye of the beholder...

At times I still feel like this was the summer of non-adventure, but at the same time, it was a huge adventure in its own special way. Yeah, I might not have been backpacking as much as I had last summer by this time, but I made my return to Evolution. I spent more time hanging out with friends - jumping in Upper Lamarck Lake with Laura, hanging out with Carlynn, Grady, Carolyn, etc., at Blues-a-palooza, SUP with Maggie and Jim - and loved it. Oh, and I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that Dave and I are engaged. As Maggie Moo pointed out to me today, "getting engaged is pretty darn adventurous!" She had a really good point. I might have had one view of adventure at the beginning of this summer, but it evolved as the summer progressed. It's all about evolution! 

The Season of Change

After this past weekend, it's safe to say that summer backpacking season is over. There is still time for fall backpacking, but before that happens, it's time for a long overdue post. Last time I posted, it was all about the amazing GoFundMe support and my return to backpacking after becoming bionic. Needless to say, a lot has happened since then. Did I meet my goals I had set for myself? Nope. I could make excuses about why I didn't, which I'm tempted to do at times, but that's not helpful in the long run. Instead, I've learned that it's good to be flexible with goals and to just enjoy every opportunity as it presents itself. EVO and Precipice will be there next summer... and I hear that Mt Goddard is someplace that Dave really wants to visit. I might not have met my goals, or even had a real chance to go for them, but I had more backpacking time in the Sierra this summer than I ever thought I would! 

This post is going to highlight some of my summer adventures... the good stuff, not the bad (trust me, you really don't want to know how temperamental my back is). I like to focus on the positive! Probably the biggest highlight of the summer was the transition from The Mermaid chapter of my life to THE Meatball. Yes, THE Meatball. Back to backpacking, below are some of the significant trips of the summer. Several are not included to keep the length of the post down, one of which is introducing a friend to backpacking! Needless to say, she's hooked now! If you want the full photo scoop of my summer adventures, go to flickr.

A Granite Park Holiday

After two fairly successful backpacking trips, we decided to use the July 4th holiday weekend to attempt my first multi-day backpacking adventure. Our first trailhead choice was gone, so I decided to pick the hottest slog of a trail for this trip. It should be pretty clear by now that I never choose the easy way to do things. Pine Creek it was! We made Honeymoon Lake our basecamp for the long weekend and spent the off day taking the use trail to explore Granite Park. It wasn't easy due to the heat and the awkwardly giant rock hopping across the 'river' to Honeymoon, but the views were worth it. It was almost like a moonscape up there. Needless to say, I can't wait to return and explore more - Bear Lakes Basin is calling my name! 

The view on the way to Italy Pass. A moonscape.

Adventures in Dusy Basin

After having to take a few weekends off from backpacking due to Davemobile issues, Labor Day weekend meant getting back to backcountry. It was off to Dusy Basin for us. We got a late start and it was hot out, but at least there was a breeze and I could finally use my new lightweight pack. We had planned to setup basecamp at Lake 11393 in Dusy Basin, but when we got to Bishop Pass, my back decided to stiffen up. It wasn't hike ending, but we decided not to cross country it and stuck to the trail, camping at the popular lake in Dusy. It wasn't too bad as it was a Friday, and the stunning scenery made up for the "crowd". My back felt better in the morning, so we moved camp to Lake 11393 and I'm glad we did - we were the only ones there! We spent the day exploring the peninsulas of the lake, Dusy Basin itself, and just soaking in the views. Alpenglow on the Palisades that night was amazing. The next morning we did a little cross country hiking back to Bishop Pass (boulder fields are not my friend) and then back to the trailhead. I'm fairly certain the last three miles to the trailhead felt longer than the other 17 miles we hiked combined. Aside from the back flareups and the destroyed toenail, it was a pretty awesome trip! 

Perfect Reflection in Dusy Basin

Exploring Dusy Basin

All HAIL Pear Lake!

It had been probably three years since Steve (@yosemitesteve) told us about Moose Lake. We still hadn't been, but this was the weekend we were going to try for it via the Pear Lake/Alta Meadow loop. Well, what we were suppose to do and what actually happened were two separate things. We made it to Pear Lake in pretty good time (Dave commented on my blistering pace), but as we were getting water and eating a late lunch, the building clouds and cold downdrafts just couldn't be ignored. I was feeling pretty darn good, but we decided to just set up camp due to the unknown. This turned out to be a very good decision. As we were finishing dinner, it started raining. As we got in the tent, that rain turned to hail... and then the intensity and size of the hail increased. The hail eventually put two holes in our tent (it was golf ball size hail) and it covered the ground completely. It was eerie, slightly frightening and cool all at the same time. We realized we were very lucky not to be at Moose Lake as it is much more exposed up there. After the storm, we were treated to an amazing sunset and a double rainbow. The next morning we hiked out and got to enjoy the leftover hail and thankfully less dusty trail. 

Post-Hail Storm at Pear Lake

Double Rainbow!

The Next Season...

This past weekend, we decided to try Moose Lake again, this time just via Alta Meadow. We were prepared for foul weather as there was a storm moving in. I secretly wanted a little thunder snow. Aside from it being chilly outside, I was feeling pretty good as we started the hike. We ran into Ranger Liz on the trail (she issued us our permit to Moose the previous weekend and made for one of the best experiences we've ever had with a ranger) and chatted for a bit. As we ascended the ridge to Panther Gap, the temperature dropped quite a bit... so did the visibility. From here, it was about 7 miles to Moose Lake, and all of it would be in the fog/clouds. Knowing the weather was only going to get worse over the day and night, we decided then just to call it. It sucked, but at the same time, we didn't want to hike in a cloud for 7 miles (the plunging temps threw my back into a little shock too). We just decided it was more backpacking practice for our next attempt at Moose Lake (soon!). About a 1/2 mile from the trailhead, we had our first bear sighting of the year. It was gorgeous and pretty much made up for the crap weather. Am I still a little bummed we didn't make it to Moose? Of course, but we also know when to turn around and that Moose Lake will be there for the next time. 

The Great Western Divide is over there!

Now what happens over the next several weeks and months is up in the air. I'm hoping for a lot more fall hiking and backpacking. Maybe I could meet my goals during this time, but who knows. Maybe I'll make it to Moose, or maybe it will have to wait for spring. It's all about adapting to whatever is thrown your way, and that's what I plan on doing...

The Return to BACKPACKING

Unreal Support

Before I even dive into my first backpacking adventure, I wanted to touch on a different topic first. As many of you now know, I decided to set up a GoFundMe campaign to help with the bionic back bills. If you didn't know, here's the link: Tiff's GoFundMe. I explain a bit of the background on why and my personal struggle with asking for help on the page itself, so I'm not going to go into details here. I honestly wasn't expecting much to come of it. Well, I should have known better! My mind has been absolutely blown with the amount of support that I have received so far. After the first weekend (started on a Friday evening), I was over $3k. That next day, I was over $6.5k thanks to a jaw-dropping donation. The amount of support has been unreal, and I'm speechless. As I type this, I'm closing in on my goal and I cannot believe it - less than two weeks! I honestly cannot thank everyone enough who has donated - it means the world to me. I know there are a lot who cannot donate, and I completely understand. But the amount of support I've received though this, along with all of the encouragement and support I've received throughout this entire recovery process, has meant the world to me. People are amazing. 

The Return to Backpacking

20 months. It had been 20 months since I backpacked to Precipice Lake in October 2012. 20 months feels like eternity when you use to spend practically every weekend backpacking. Well, the backpacking hiatus ended this past weekend. I went backpacking for the first time since breaking my back and it was AWESOME! 

After a several weekends off from hiking, partially due to my crazy bionic back and Dave being gone on his ski touring adventure, I finally started doing some serious day hiking again. I hadn't done anything close to 10 miles since I started back at work last September. Well, that was changing. It started out with a little 9 mile leg stretch to Mist Falls in Kings Canyon. The following weekend, we decided to do a little backpacking practice - long day hike, minimalist car camping, day hike. I was honestly surprised how well that went. We hiked up the Sphinx Creek trail in Kings Canyon and followed it up with the Park Ridge Trial (tame in comparison to the Sphinx Creek switchbacks). We had planned to backpack the next weekend, but put that off and decided to day hike up to Kearsarge Pass instead. It was a little exhausting for me because it was my first hike at altitude in a long time, but it was good. I was thrilled with how it went. I was honestly amazed to have three weekends of "longer" day hikes in a row with a back that was behaving. Dave and I knew what the next step was... backpacking!

I was nervous leading up to backpacking. What if it ended like the failed attempt we had last fall? What if something happened to my back? But...what if I was able to actually do it? I spent Friday afternoon packing my "new" Arc'teryx Altra - a sleeping back, sleeping pad, clothes, my camera, a silly little bear. When I was done, the pack weighted in at 14 pounds. I was hoping it was less, but I was not complaining. I tried it on. It felt a little weird - a backpack with a suspension system is going to feel different than my Quintic ski pack - but felt much better than when I tried to carry it last fall. Maybe this was a good sign? I hoped so. I felt ready.

Saturday, we left for Sequoia. Our destination was Little Lakes, which is situated right below Mt Silliman. Our friend, Steve (@YosemiteSteve), had told us about it last fall. Once we had our permit for the Twin Lakes trail, we were off. It was weird carrying the pack. It just felt different in so many ways, but it didn't feel bad. The one nice thing about my backpack is that the weight is all on my hips, not my new back. Plus, the pack doesn't even touch my back where the hardware is (occasionally my other pack bothers me because it lays perfectly on my back), so there was no irritation. It was hot out, but the first 2+ miles felt easy peasy to me. Maybe this was a good sign?! Once we got to the Silliman Creek crossing, we took the use trail that leads toward Mt Silliman. When we reached the meadow with an amazing view of the endless slabs leading up to Silliman Lake, we started looking for the best way to get to Little Lakes. After some bushwhacking and figuring out what we wanted to do, I decided that maybe we should just camp in the great little spot I had seen not too long ago. I really wanted camp at Little Lakes, but I didn't want to spend too much more time looking for the best way to get there. Plus, I wanted to just relax and not push myself too much on my first backpacking trip. Dave was okay with it. We were in nature, what did the destination really matter? We set up camp, did some exploring and just soaked it all in. It finally started to sink in that I was backpacking again.

Endless Slabs to Silliman Lakes

Sunday morning, I woke up with a slightly stiff back, but that always happens when I camp - especially now. Once I started moving around, the stiffness went away. We had breakfast, packed up camp, and started heading down the trail. Carrying a backpack started to feel natural. It threw off my balance from time to time (I still have some balance issues, and the pack does have a swivel hip belt), but nothing too bad. Dave was pretty surprised that I was able to keep up with him most of the way down. I tend to go up faster than coming down, so this is a little sign of progress, I think. As we approached the trailhead, it really hit me that had just completed my first backpacking trip since the accident. I was so happy, I was almost in tears. I celebrated with an It's-It at 10am, because that's just how I roll.

This is what you call a #happytiffyface

Elated

I've had a hard time expressing just what backpacking means to me. I was ecstatic last summer when I was able to hike again and spend more time in nature. The Sierra feels like home to me, so being able to hike again was like going home in a way. A lot of people know how much skiing again meant to me, but anyone who really knows me knows that backpacking is what means the most to me. There is something magical about sleeping under the stars with nobody around. It's almost therapeutic, soaking in the amazing vistas that surround you when in the wilderness. I can't find the words to describe it completely, but it's different than day hiking. It's magical. I think this backpacking trip made me realize just how much I missed that feeling, but it's back now. I feel like another piece of me, a big piece, is back after my life was shattered in a split second. This piece might have been the piece I needed the most. 

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares drop off like autumn leaves." - John Muir

Lessons In Patience: Twin Planks Edition

The past year has taught me many lessons. A few of the lessons were easy, but the vast majority were not-so-easy. I mean, nothing can really be easy when you go from being ridiculously active and always on the go, to having a broken back with an incomplete spinal cord injury. Physically, emotionally, not the lessons that I could have ever imagined dealing with... at any age. This past month, I've had an extra dose of the not-so-easy lessons. While I know the bionic life is going to be full of lessons of all shapes and sizes, the month of March sure was a doozie. 

There's Always Next Season...

To be honest, it's been coming for awhile. I waited 9.5 months to get back on skis for the first time since breaking my back, only to deal with the most brutal conditions and spraining my gimpy, nerve-damaged ankle. The bright side of that whole ordeal was that I got on a lift (it had a safety bar AND the lift operator was doing their job) and got in a few turns. That in itself was huge. Since that weekend in early December, I hadn't been on skis again until Dave and I went tame ski touring a few times in the Mammoth Lakes Basin around mid-February (see previous post). The tame skinning adventures were baby steps in the right direction. Well, sometimes when you're taking baby steps, you have to do-si-do around those steps.

Breaking trail on the way to Little Lakes Valley

While my body is adapting to having skis on my feet again and getting use to the feeling of having a free heel, sometimes you need to know when to call it and save locking the heel for next season. In early March, my back started flaring up. It was similar to previous flare ups, but at the same time was different and more intense. It felt like a very tight, sharp pain running down my lower spine, near the hardware. Unlike previous times when it was the upper hardware that was irritated, it was the lower region of the hardware, around the L2 area. I tried my go-to tricks that helped with previous problems - heat, ibuprofen, rest, etc - but nothing seemed to really work. I had a few extra tame weekends. I took some unpaid time off work to rest it to see if it would help (not good for someone who has massive bills to pay, but I've gotta listen to the body). Finally after about three weeks of a very grumpy back, it seemed to calm down a little. Chris, my PT, seems to think that it's most likely stress on the joint below the fusion. It makes complete sense and so we're focusing on exercises and such to help. While I can't pinpoint the cause of the flare up and it's most likely a combination of things, I'm just going to have to accept that it will happen from time to time. Welcome to the "new normal"... again. 

It's no secret that the Sierra is having a crappy snow year. That, along with the bionic back still adapting to things, made it a relatively easy decision to just spend the rest of the ski season skinning around rather than hitting the slopes. I'd still be able to get a great workout and strengthen muscles that need it, but I'd also get skis on the feet time. It's been just over a year since both surgeries and I'm still healing. With all the progress I've been making, too much could go wrong on the slopes and I don't want to take that chance. Backpacking season is quickly approaching and I don't want to risk anything happening before then. I didn't get to backpack last year and I don't want to have another year of that. So, the decision was simple... there is always next winter! Needless to say, I thought I'd be perfectly fine with that. The truth is, I'm still bitter about not being on the slopes again this year. The bitterness is very much alive and kicking. It's not bad when I'm skinning around, but when I read reports of fresh powder it hits hard. When we are around Mammoth and I see people skiing, it hits really hard. I know that I made the best decision for me. Sometimes the best decisions are the toughest ones. I'm going to keep doing tame ski tours while I can, but the major focus is on getting myself ready for skeeter season in the Sierra... err, I mean hiking season!

I always smile when I see snow-covered mountains.

Learning To Listen

Not only was the past month all about learning to listen to my body, but it was also about learning to listen to what really matters. Listening to what makes me happy, listening to those that matter to me,... and tuning out the negative. The past few weeks, the financial stress from the bionic back situation has hit really hard. The fact that I needed to take time off for my back didn't help the situation. I've been pretty down lately as a result. It's been hard to focus on the positive instead of all the negative, when that's what's looming in your face. I know that somehow it will all work itself out, it has to, but it's not easy to deal with. It also hasn't been easy to let go of those in your life that aren't really who they appeared to be. After months of hanging onto friendships that I thought were genuine, it's time to let go and move on (I don't like fake people). Luckily I have some really great friends and coworkers that are always encouraging me and are so supportive. Dave has been an amazing strength through this too. The past year hasn't been easy for either of us, and he's been like a rock for me through all of the ups and downs. 

I'm learning to listen to my body. I'm learning to tune out the negative. Now it's time to listen to and focus on what makes me happy and really matters. Friends. Family. Nature. Hiking in the Sierra. Spending my days with Dave. Lunch dates with Sandy. Having Laura yell "don't look at the trees!" Being bionic buddies for life with Summer. Talking about EVO with Karen. Planning a return trip to Precipice Lake with Terri. Getting harassed at the PT office by Chris and Laura. The list goes on and on. I know that there are still going to be many rough days ahead for me, but I just need to remember to listen to what matters. What really matters is that I'm alive and walking again. 

Addressing the Skiing Critics

Ski season is quickly approaching in the Sierra Nevada. Mammoth Mountain opened this past week and I've been itching to get back on skis again because of it. To be honest, I've been itching to get back on skis again since last season was obviously cut short. For those of you wondering, I will NOT be going back to Badger Pass for a plethora of reasons (some addressed in the first post of this blog). Well, it appears that when ski season gets closer, my critics seem to come out of the woodwork. I thought I'd take some time to not only address them, but also share my thoughts on skiing again.

"You want to ski again? That's STUPID!"

I knew at some point there was going to be in influx of criticism about wanting to get back on skis. I could feel it in the air, maybe it was just the change in weather, but it was coming. It started with Mr Grumpy Pants at work. Before the accident he was always rude and grumpy toward me, but since returning to work, he's been relatively nice (asking how the back was, showing concern, etc.). Well, when he mentioned skiing last week, and I said I couldn't wait to get back on skis again, he called me stupid. Yep, I knew that being nice to me wasn't going to last long for him. It bothered me a bit, but that was his personality. That was just the beginning of it that day it seems. 

Later that morning, when two of my absolute favorite people and biggest supporters were at Bux (M&K), I got it again. No hesitation in it, just a huge "It is stupid!" when it came up. I tried to just brush it off, but this one hurt. Yes, people are entitled to have and express their opinions, but sometimes they are best left unsaid. This was one of those times. I've talked about my desire to ski again with K several times, including recently, and the only things I got were a change of subject or "would so-and-so want you to be doing that yet?" (It is well known that my neurosurgeon has cleared me for doing whatever my back feels up to.) I know that K hasn't been a big fan of the fact that I'm hiking again or wanting to backpack again, so this really shouldn't have been much of a surprise. It still really bugged me... and probably because she's been like family to me through all of this. 

While at the PT office later that morning, I finally sent K a message letting her know how I felt. I was sick of people criticizing me for wanting to get back on skis, etc. After I was done working out, I went over to K's office to clear the air on the subject. She didn't mean to upset me with the comment, but couldn't imagine what it'd be like for me if I fell, got injured, or wound up in the hospital again. I understand where she is coming from, but it was still tough to swallow. K has seen me come so far in my recovery, that it's probably hard for her not to feel protective (I would assume). It wasn't a long conversation and I didn't really say much. I knew what I wanted to say probably wouldn't be heard and would be best saved for a different time. Plus, I didn't want to say something off the cuff that I would probably end up regretting later. We hugged, I left, and sat with my feelings most of the afternoon at the engine shop. I decided it would probably be best for me to just not share anything relating to living outside of a glass box with K anymore.

I Don't Want To Live In A Glass Box

It's been 8+ months since I broke my back. I am very aware of the seriousness of the injury and damage that my body is recovering from. I still have awhile before the nerves in my legs and feet are healed, and there is the possibility they might not come back fully. I know that I need to be careful because of the titanium in my spine. I am aware of the risks of my new bionic body. I am very aware that I am very lucky to be alive. I am also very aware that my recovery has been above and beyond what anyone predicted it would be. I still can't believe how crazy my recovery has been - and it's happening to me! I know that I am very lucky that I had an amazing surgeon while in the hospital. I've had an awesome recovery team over the past several months (Thanks Tehachapi PT!). I've had an amazing support system since the accident happened. I've busted my ass during this whole recovery process - on the good days and the bad, through the awesome times and the times I just wanted it all to be over - I've given it my all. As a result, I'm walking again, working again, hiking again, ... and soon to be skiing again!

I fell in love with skiing last season. To me, it's only natural that I want to ski again. If I wasn't meant to ski again, I don't think my recovery would be going so well. I don't think I'd be alive right now if I wasn't meant to ski again. When I broke my collarbone in a car accident, I wasn't criticized for wanting to drive again! People hurt themselves doing ordinary things all the time, and they don't get criticized for returning to doing those ordinary things. The same should apply here. One thing that this whole situation has taught me, is to live life to its fullest. Do what you are passionate about and don't give up. I've worked my ass off over the past 8+ months and it's paying off. Hiking in the Sierra brings tears of joy to my eyes every single time. I know that I need to be cautious and listen to my body more than ever now, but I'm going to follow my passions. I'm not going to live in a glass box for the rest of my life! I don't want to be miserable for the rest of my life, and I know that's what I'd be if I just sat around wondering what it would be like to ski or backpack again. I want to spend my days enjoying my life and celebrating that I'm alive. I will not let my life be controlled by a glass box.

My Thoughts On The Return To Skis

If you know me or follow me on social media, you know I'm beyond ready to be back on skis again. I fell in love with skiing earlier this year and my time on them got cut too short. I didn't get on the black diamonds runs - I was planning to the day of the fall. I didn't get to do any backcountry ski touring. I didn't get the Dynafit setup I wanted. I didn't get to spend anywhere near the amount of time I wanted to on skis last season. I'm bitter about it. That bitterness has motivated me to push myself to get ready to be back on skis again. Well, that time is almost here.

Every time it has snowed in the Sierra recently, my excitement has grown... as has my nervousness. I have my neurosurgeon's blessing to do whatever my back feels up to (I'm going for a checkup/x-rays before skiing - just to make sure everything is stable). I've been strengthening my core, along with everything else, to make sure my body is as ready for it as it can be. I know that I can walk in ski boots again - I've done plenty of laps around Mammoth Mountaineering in the new Dynafit TLT6's. I've been telling myself that we need to wait for good, soft snow at Mammoth for my first time back. I've told myself, and Dave, that the first time back is going to be a lot of green runs so I can get use to the feeling of skiing again and see what's going to be an issue, etc. I've told Dave that the first several times on the lifts are going to be nerve-wracking for me. Oh shit, the lifts...

I'm not sure what makes me more nervous - how my back is going to handle skiing, what if I take a bad fall while skiing (which will happen), or having to get on a lift again. I have some legit concerns about falling while skiing, probably the same ones that K does, but it's something that will happen. Even the best skiers take tumbles, so it's just something that I'll have to adapt to and try and do "safely". Yes, I could hurt my back again while skiing, but I could hurt my back while driving, while walking, while coughing... it could happen with anything. 

I can't lie. I'm scared to get back on a lift. Our goal is to spend most of our skiing time in the backcountry, but I'm going to need to get back on lifts again to get ready for that. As the return to skis gets closer, the nightmares of seeing the fall from the lift have returned... with a vengeance. When I close my eyes, I can see it happening all over again. It's not pleasant. I wake up in tears some nights. It's something I have to deal with now. I'm not going to let the nightmare put a stop to my desire to ski again. If I did, the glass box would win. It's going to be hard, but it's a fear I have to face. 

All of this being said, I am nervously excited for ski season. I was nervous about my first hike, and it went much better than expected. We'll see what the first time back on skis holds for me. One thing that I do know, I'm going to keep on living my life to its fullest. I'm always going to have my critics, but that's a natural thing in life. I'm going to make the most of what I've been given - even if I have to be a bit more cautious. There is a very good reason my recovery has been ridiculously amazing... and it's not to live in a glass box.