Twenty-five pounds strapped to my back, looking down a twisted, windy, rooted path nine miles in and nine miles out . . . and boy was I excited! We, 7 of us, would have to wade across the river fifteen times before we got to camp. Our shoulders were so sore we could barley lift our spoons to eat our M.R.Es, and our legs could barley hoist ourselves into our hammocks.
The next morning our hungry stomachs welcomed warm oatmeal. Then we were on the trail. We hiked in about two more miles to a marvelous water fall with thirty foot cliffs to jump off, cascades to slide down, and pools to swim in! A complete utopia for anyone and everyone, after jumping and jumping and jumping we were pooped! We hiked back to camp expecting a great night’s sleep.
Then disaster struck; it was 9:30 and we were crawling into bed. Drip-drop. Drip-drop. Seven people and three small tarps, and it was raining! I threw up my orange tarp, and we stuffed as much gear under it as we could. I hurried two of my friends under it and told them to get in my hammock! By this time, the three dads had two more tiny tarps hung. Then my third friend crawled into his hammock under a black tarp leaving me and the three dads stuck in the rain! One of the dads found a small spot under the black tarp, and he curled up on a trash bag that he had stuffed with gear to keep it dry. I found a huge log to hunker down under, and the two others crouched under the smallest of all the tarps! Three hours later, I managed to crawl into a soaked hammock half under a tarp, and I was out.
The next thing I knew light was filtering through my eyes. We ate, packed up, and hit the trail. With the protection of God we made it. I looked back at the trail and thought, “It couldn’t have been better!”