Trail Marriage

13 Aug

I’m pretty lucky to have married someone who has equal appreciation for camping. Jen is one of those women that can dress up for a business meeting one minute and doesn’t mind lugging 45 pounds through backcountry wilderness the next.

Okay, I got that out of the way.

Considering all the advantages of camping with your mate, there are some real challenges as well. For one, it took me a while to get over the notion that I had to be over-protective at every log crossing & rock climb. Yes, I should be generally concerned with the wellbeing of fellow hikers, but not to the extent that s/he feels I’m questioning their ability. On the JMT, it was very difficult to watch Jen cross a fast river and not imagine my best friend and the mother of my daughter being washed away.

Then there’s the challenge of harmless exchanges being misconstrued by others as spousal arguments.” During one climb over a pass, I was a couple hundred feet above Jen. She’d seen an image she knew I needed and was calling out to ask if I wanted her to get the shot. Knowing I’m a little hard of hearing (and far away) she was screaming to get my attention. Durand, who was in between us, misinterpreted the exchange as a marital spat.

Then there are the real spats. When you say things that would be stupid even in the comfort of your own home, but are amplified that much more after long miles, steep climbs through slushy snow and calorie depleted diets.

During our descent of Muir Pass, there was a 200-yard stretch that split and could take you one of two ways. One followed a well-beaten track in the snow that started with a drop in elevation and finished with a sizable climb. The second route got the climb out of the way early, but required more trail blazing in the snow cups. I opted to follow Jason & Kelly along the first route; but Jen opted to follow Durand & Dave (both of whom are tall and fast)… her rationale being she’d rather get the climb out of the way.

Fast-forward forty-five minutes: I’d been waiting for Jen where the two routes rejoined. Dave & Durand had already passed long ago, and this was one of the rare instances where Jen was pulling up the rear. As she closed in within speaking distance, I called out, “Can I make a suggestion?”

(mistake # 1)

“Sure, Ric. Please. Please make a suggestion,” she answered.

Okay, at this point I could see/hear she how exhausted and frustrated she was with her decision. This would’ve been a good time to shut up and not continue, but I thought, “Well, the damage is already done.”

(mistake #2)

“How about next time you choose to follow someone else in your height category?

I knew this wasn’t the right thing to say. But rather than being proud of her for sticking with her decision even though it was exhausting to take twice the number of steps (she’s 5’ even) through deepening sun cups in the snow, I let myself get frustrated by the decision she made. And even worse, I verbalized it with a stupid & mean “suggestion.” Needless to say, an hour of hiking/arguing followed. It wasn’t fun. But like all good arguments, it opens up the opportunity to clear the air on a host of issues you’re both bottling up.

Was it the smartest way to achieve that goal? Absolutely not.

Was Jen innocent of similar judgment lapses? Absolutely not.

But anyone in a relationship can relate to those moments, on or off the trail. And when you’re able to work through them under the added stress of hiking long miles & having not bathed in days, it becomes very apparent you’ve made a good decision in choosing your life/trail mate.