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

A Look Back at 2013

Whenever the new year rolls around, I'm usually not one to reflect on the year that was. This past year was a little different than most. This past year my life changed in a way I wasn't planning on, in a way I didn't want it to. I never wanted to become bionic. I never wanted to have to adapt to the "new normal". I don't remember much of how life was before I became bionic, but I miss it. I remember the days leading up to "the fall" in detail, but beyond that, I knew that we skied almost every weekend and worked a lot. I knew that we had a vacation to Mammoth coming up the next week and AT ski setups to buy. I knew that we had a lot of backpacking adventures planned for the upcoming summer. On February 23rd, I knew none of that was going to happen...

I don't really want to talk about what happened - I relive it enough when I close my eyes some days. If you live under a rock and forgot, here you go: Weekends Are Made For Skiing. 

Grateful

I know that I was very lucky given what happened. Falling 15-20 feet. Landing on 'concrete snow/ice'. I could feel and move my arms and legs (somewhat). I could feel the pain in my back. As much as it hurt, I could FEEL and somewhat MOVE everything. Mike reminds me from time to time that he's seen people die falling from shorter distances. My neurosurgeon reminds me all the time that they weren't sure I'd ever walk again... and that he refers to me as his "star" patient now. Things could have turned out a lot different, but I'm grateful they did not. Even on the roughest days, I am still grateful that I'm alive and walking again. People ask me how I can have such a positive outlook on things given how much my life changed. It's not easy, but I know how much different things could have been. I was dealt some shitty cards, but I'm making the best of it. I could have just sat on a couch all day and been "woe is me", but that's not who I am. As hard as it was being in the hospital and dealing with using a wheelchair and a walker for weeks, I was determined to fight. There were rough days, but I always dug deep and pushed through. I couldn't give up on fighting because that would be giving up on getting my life back. Never giving up and settling for what was dealt my way on that February day has me where I am now - back to hiking, back to skiing, back to my adventurous life. 

Highlights of the Bionic Year

A lot of people mention "the biggest moment of 20XX" when they do a year in review. I think far and away, the biggest moment for me was being able to take two tiny steps the morning after my first surgery. They weren't pretty, nor were they easy by any means, but I took two steps. A lot of people weren't sure I'd be able to walk again and there I was, struggling to hold myself up with a walker, taking my first steps less than 24 hours after surgery. I was in tears because of how hard it was to move my legs and not really being able to control my feet, but I was taking steps. I will never forget that moment. 

One thing I've embraced from this whole thing, is how sexy scars are. They tell a story, and mine certainly do. Oh the memories of the hospital... and the drain in my back.

These will be sexy.

Just over 3 months after surgery, and two weeks after ditching the cane, I made it to the top of Moro Rock in SEKI under my own power. No cane, no hand holding, I made it up all 400 evil granite stairs on my own... and I even passed a person or two! The view of the Great Western Divide was extra sweet that day. 

No cane. No assistance. The smile says it all.

On the 6 month mark, which also happened to be Dave's birthday, we decided to hike to Piute Pass and beyond. We'd been hiking most weekends during the summer, alternating between short hikes (less than five miles) and longer hikes (10+ miles total). Some trips went well, some did not. Sometimes it was my back/legs not being happy. Sometimes it was AMS bothering Dave. Sometimes it was the weather. Regardless, we were out in nature and I was loving it. Any time in nature beats being inside any day. The hike to Piute Pass was my first time over the Sierra Crest since becoming bionic, and was my longest hike to date - 12+ miles. I was so happy. To think that I was told by my doctor at Health South that I wouldn't be walking unassisted until the 6 month mark or so... and to turn around and be hiking 12+ miles by that time. I think it proved just how much all of my hard work and having a positive attitude paid off. Major props to Chris and the entire Tehachapi PT office for getting me back to my adventurous self!

Soaking in the views over Piute Pass.

With all the positive that happened with my hiking progress, we did learn that I wasn't quite ready for backpacking yet. There are many factors that could have lead to that - taking a few weeks off from hiking, returning to work which has taken a toll on my body, just having an off week, etc. Regardless of what the reason was, I can at least say that I tried it this year. That's more than most were thinking I'd get. All I can do is try again, and I plan on doing that. I can't stay out of the backcountry for too long... EVO is calling!

My major goal for this year, which some weren't a huge fan of, was returning to skis. Once the snow started falling, my body started itching to get back on the slopes. It finally happened December 7th, less than 10 months after my last time skis. As mentioned in the last post, The Return to Skiing, it wasn't under the best conditions and might not have gone as well as I had hoped for, but I was back on skis. I still have a lot of work to do to get my body back in shape for it and to get my skills and confidence back, but it's a step in the right direction. Some would have given up on skiing after what happened to me, but one thing I've learned through all of this, you have to "DO WHAT YOU LOVE". For me, that's being in nature - hiking, backpacking, and yes, skiing. 

The smile says it all.

The Adventure Continues...

With as crazy as 2013 ended up being, I'm looking forward to 2014. I can't say that 2013 was horrible, it was definitely a very trying year for me (and others), but I definitely learned a lot about myself. Do I wish February 23rd never happened? Of course! At the same time, even through all of the battles I had to deal with and new ones I am dealing with, I don't think I'd be as strong as I am today without the events of that day. I've learned to appreciate the small things more. I've learned to never give up. I've learned that it's okay to ask for help (many thanks to those that have helped me learn this over the past 10+ months - you know who you are). I've learned to look at nature in new ways now. I could go on and on, but I think it's become clear through this blogging adventure just how much this whole situation has changed my life and made me stronger. 

Here's to many more adventures in 2014... Cheers!

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.