I'm sore again.

Last Wednesday, I was calmly sitting at my computer, minding my own business, when I got a phone call-- it was Ed, my troop's scoutmaster, and he wanted me to go backpacking.  The troop was going that weekend, and I'd known about it since the previous week, but (somehow) in my ten-plus years of Boy Scouting, I'd never been backpacking, and I hadn't intended to start then.  But Ed had a problem: he wanted to split the six boys going into two groups, so that one could go a harder route than the other, but he only had three adult leaders coming, and Boy Scout regulations require that any group of Scouts have two adults accompanying it.  I protested that I had never been backpacking before, but he said that he would take care of everything, and so I acceded.

Ed dropped off his son's backpack Thursday night, which I quickly packed somewhat haphazardly, without much knowledge of appropriate backpacking packing, and on Friday, I slipped out of work a little early and joined the troop at the St. John's parking lot in preparation.

It was around this time that I learned that I had been duped into coming onto this trip under false pretenses!  John, the adult leader who was doing most of the organizing, had been unable to devise a set of routes of differing lengths that would lead to the same spot, and so the idea of two difficulty-differentiated groups had been discarded: everyone would be going together.  I was superfluous and unnecessary!

We departed Colerain around 5:30pm, and we arrived at the trailhead in the Red River Gorge around 8:30pm.  It was pitch black outside. (I wanted to see if I could get a better view of Comet Holmes in such light-deprived conditions, but the sheer number of trees made this pretty much impossible.) We loaded up (Yours Truly had to borrow some water bottle from the troop, since he has very little foresight) and hiked in about fifteen minutes or so, to a camping area.  We set up in the dark-- I shared my tent with one of the fathers on the trip, Chris-- and then sat around the fire and gabbed for a while while eating popcorn.

The next morning we were at last able to see where we were, and it was gorgeous.  But there was no time for gawking: breakfast had to be cooked and camp disassembled.  Ed had agreed to take care of my food for forcing me along, and for breakfast we had oatmeal and bagels.  The troop has these little backpacking stoves that I had never seen in use before-- they are no bigger across than the span of one's hand, and about as tall, with a bottle of white gas attached, but they get very hot very quickly.  When backpacking, basically everyone you eat is something that requires only boiling water to cook (or, in the case of the bagels, butter).  Oatmeal was a common breakfast food, but some people had just-add-water pancakes, and another, precooked bacon.  Since I eat oatmeal and/or a bagel for breakfast everyday anyway, I was quite satisfied.

Around 9:30am, we had finished breaking down camp, and we headed out.  I had all of my materials (clothes and sleeping bag) on my back, plus the troop's first aid kit, half of mine and Ed's food, and the poles to mine and Chris's tent.  We were starting on Section I of the aptly-named Rough Trail-- it had a difficulty rating of 10/10 in John's guide book, and it was easy to see why.  The trail went up and down, up and down, left and right, and the path was not exactly smooth.  This was about two miles long, and hard going, but worth it-- there were some very neat looking rock formations, including gigantic boulders.

Two miles later, the trail ended in a parking lot, where we took one of many opportunities to rest.  Ed had more than loaded me up with trail mix and granola bars, and I definitely munched on them to maintain my energy.  But we couldn't stay too long, and we were off once again, this time onto the Swift Camp Creek Trail, another two-plus miles of 10/10 difficulty.  The beginning, as it descended to the creek, was easy enough, but it soon pulled up and away, and the footing became very rough.  It didn't help that the trail wouldn't stay level, choosing to sink down and go back up constantly.  It was along this stretch that we stopped for lunch at 1:00pm.  Ed and I had sausage and crackers, along with the same sort of prefab tuna mix I ate almost every day in high school!

Swift Camp Creek Trail was probably some of the most interesting areas to hike-- there weren't much of the majestic rock formations we saw on the Rough Trail, but the plants were very neat looking, looking like something you'd expect to see more in the jungles of Asia than Kentucky.  Not much longer after lunch, the trail came back down to the level of the creek, and here we stopped to replenish our water supply.  I'd used up three of my five half-liter bottles, and I suspect the same went for most people.  We had two pumps, and we took turns pumping the creekwater into our bottles.  The pumps incorporate filters, of course, but as an added precaution, John provided us with chlorine purifying tablets.  The water had a bit of a funny taste to it-- but then, so did my Meijer's brand bottled water!

Swift Camp Creek Trail eventually intersected Wildcat Trail, which only had a difficulty rating of 5/10, and at this point, it was sorely needed.  Unfortunately, the hardest part of the trail, a 300-foot ascent, was the first part we came to, but I managed.  I know I'm not in the best of shape, but I could have gone without it being confirmed!  My legs hurt quite a bit.  My back, not at all, however, as backpacks are designed to put most of the weight on your hips, something I hadn't known before going on the trip.  Chris and Ed lagged towards the back with me, but none of the boys seemed to have any trouble at all, seemingly just as full of energy at the end of the hike as they were at the beginning.  I don't remember a single instance of whining, which is pretty remarkable for a group of sixth-through-ninth graders-- including two for whom it was their first time ever backpacking!

After the climb on Wildcat, we found ourselves on the top of a ridge, which we would pretty much follow out of the forest-- but we weren't leaving yet; we scouted the ridge for an ideal campsite.  John found one on a spur of the trail that lead to the end of a ridge that connected to the Wildcat one.  At 3:30pm, after six hours of hiking and seven miles, we were finally done.

There's no rest for the weary, of course; we were soon setting up camp and hurrying to cook dinner before darkness came.  There's no kerosense lanterns on a backpacking trip!  The only light you've got is the small flashlight you've packed. (Though, if you're me, you've packed a large and bulky flashlight in defiance of all common sense because you're sentimentally attached to it.)  Ed and I had a three-course meal.  First off was a Thai noodle soup, which was pretty good, though I should have let the boiling water sit in the bowl longer, as some of my noodles were still crunchy!  That was followed by chicken-and-rice-- simply boil some water, dump it in the bag, and let sit for ten minutes.  Meanwhile, we cooked ourselves a can of peas, which we mixed in once the chicken was done.  This was surprisingly good for something that came out of a bag.  Last off, we had apple-cobbler-in-a-bag for dessert.  I don't know if you could actually call what we ended up creating apple cobbler or not, but it was tasty!

I should mention that, with my usual brilliance, I had neglected to pack any sort of mess kit.  Ed had one large pot, a small mess kit pot, two plastic plates, a plastic fork, and a plastic spoon.  The two of us shared all weekend, each taking one utensil at every meal.  The spoon met its end that night, though, trying to scrape bits of apple off the bottom of the pot.

By 6:00pm, it was rapidly becoming dark (and cold), of course, and so we set up a campfire and jabbered once more.  But between our tiredness and the darkness, everyone began turning in soon enough.  Some of the boys were in bed by 7:00pm; Chris and I turned in around 8:30pm.  That gave me nearly eleven hours of sleep.  Supposedly.  It was really fitful-- I've no idea how I managed all those years of Scouts without a ground pad of some sort, but I really need to get hold of one now!

At 7:00am, we awoke once again, and after breakfast (more oatmeal and bagels, but this time it was Ed and I who were munching on precooked bacon!) we broke camp and set out around 8:15am.  By 9:30am, we'd made the mile out to the parking lot, from where we drove home (minus an hour-long side trip to attend mass).

We certainly picked the exact right weekend to go down.  It was a little chilly, but it wasn't anything that a sweatshirt and my normal-weather sleeping bag couldn't handle.  And leaves are still in the midst of turning, but haven't fallen off the trees quite yet, making almost every expanse of forest gorgeous.  Unfortunately, you can't spend too much time looking at the scenery, because you have to see where you're putting your feet!

I'm glad was I coerced into filling that gap in my Boy Scout education-- I certainly know some of what I shouldn't do next time!  As I remarked as we sat around the fire Saturday evening, there's something immensely satisfying about sitting in a campsite and knowing that every single thing there you carried in across seven miles on your own back.  It's nice to know you can survived without the Scout trailer and the water jugs and the nine different stoves and boxes of cooking equipment and collapsible picnic tables and whatever else it is.  Just you and your backpack.

That said, my legs still hurt.

Steve