Backpacking in Wyoming IS all it's cracked up to be

As I write this, I can hear raindrops that sound as large as grapes, pellting my roof. Not so secretly, I wish they were frozen raindrops the size of grapes. For those that don't know, I remove dents from cars without painting them and hail damage is good for my piggy bank.

Now back to our scheduled program...

Two weeks ago, I considered backpacking an activity I'd participate in if there was nothing more exciting to do. Well, two friends asked, no, begged me to go with them to Wyoming for a five day trip into the Wind River Valley. I couldn't bear (ha) to see them grovel like little children at their age, so I commited myself to carrying a 45lb. backpack across the Continental Divide twice.

Actually, there were five of us, but I only met the other two for the first time at the Salt Lake City airport the day before our wonderful adventure started. They were both from Knoxville, Tennessee and were more than experienced campers. I was actually worried at first. Not because next to them I was going to look like I failed my remedial camping class, but because they were both Boy Scout leaders. My personality mixed with my old friends works out quite well, but I wasn't sure that my non-PC humor, social and political beliefs and germaphobic tendancies would fly with these guys if strung out over five days. Luckily for me, they were more like wolves in sheeps clothing. Normal, down to earth and above average cool guys that know how to start a fire with Fritos and catch fish with rocks. That's what they were.

We anxiously started our fisrt day of hiking with packs full of food, tents, sleeping bags and bear mace. Yeah, they've got grizzly's in them there hills....from what I hear. The only disappointing thing about this trip was not getting pictures (HELL, not even seeing) of big game. A weasle was about as big as it got. Our first campsite was just below a huge glacier on Pylon Peak (12, 378 ft.).

The second day consisted of a three hour hike up towards Texas Pass. This is where we crossed the Continental Divide. It's also where we should have put our request in the suggestion box to change the pass name to You Could Die Here Pass. This thing was insane. More likely, we were insane for doing it. The ascent took 3 hrs. because of it's length, which was about 2 miles of climbing over boulders on about a 30% grade. The descent however was approx. 1/4 mile in length, but at about a 45-50% grade. It consisted of not much more than huge Rocky Mtn. boulders dropped from the side of the mountain into pebbles and sand. Hmmm? Climb and jump down a boulder field with 45 lbs. on my back or take a chance sliding on the skree (sand and pebbles) laden trail straight into a boulder. I opted for option numero uno.

That was probably the toughest day, but well worth it. Had I planned the trip, it would have been quite different and that' s why I'm glad I didn't. I've got a lot more to tell, but am saving those stories for "in person" narration only...for effect.

We saw some beautiful scenery, had a lot of time to reflect and even more time to just be thankful I'm here. I'm looking forward to doing something similar again someday and hope it involves company as good as this trip did.

In the meantime, I do have a little trip planned to Biloxi, MS this weekend to see Amy! We've been apart for almost a solid 3 weeks now and it's sucked. She's even directed me to bring my running shoes. I think she's back in da game.

PS- I'm having trouble posting pics, so check back to this post later.