When I decided two days before the trip that I would indeed get out of my comfort zone for the sake of having a brand new adventure, socializing, and for the beauty that is pine trees and mountains, I knew the group of nine girls would bond through the experience. We did, but it wasn’t because of cuddly times at the campfire or sharing stories in our cozy tents. Oh no, no! Instead, we bonded because we were struggling for survival.
The weather forecast is never completely reliable, so when there was a predicted 30% chance of rain with 30-40˚F weather and flash-flood warnings, we didn’t think too much of it except that rain sounded like a blessed magic quenching for our drought-ridden California. In return, we received an unexpected 3 hour thunder-and-lightning storm with severe precipitation, hail, and enough hilarious mishaps to last us the rest of the summer.
Here are just six mini-stories to help you if you ever find yourself in this very particular predicament.
1. The Indiana Jones Road
This special road is actually a dried up riverbed. It was the most interesting part of the drive itself, but at any point the sharp rocks and deep potholes, if unavoided, could leave you more than just a little shaken; more like well-tossed. Due to the rapid bumping, jerking, and jumping of the vehicle, your seat belt will lock up and, if it is not secure around your body, it will do a very poor job of keeping you from launching out the windshield. If you’ve ever watched “Raiders of the Lost Ark” or have ridden the Indiana Jones Adventure Ride, then you will understand.
2. Outhouse versus the Nature Toilet
If there is ever the option at the trailhead to use an outhouse, DON’T. It is a perma-portal-potty that is really just a hole in the ground where families have been defecating for years and years. When I made the poor decision to utilize this opportunity of the last real “toilet” and I opened the wooden door void of a lock or securely snug door-to-frame fit, the first thought was “This…this is what Hell will smell like.”
3. The Great Storm
Listening to thunder is exhilarating. Lightning streaking across the sky is an anticipated sight. An instantaneous thunder-and-lightning storm is thoroughly incomplete, of course, without torrential rain that lasts for a few solid hours without ceasing and a bit of hail-snow that does not ever seem to melt. If you are in the mood for camping, then this is no less exciting; however, it is exponentially more unsettling if you're trying to live through it. It is especially unwanted when the earsplitting sounds are as if God is taking out His monstrously sized trashcans to the sidewalk for garbage day right above your campsite and you are able to feel the rumbling in the earth below as strong as the tremors of earthquake aftershocks. At this point, there are no seconds to spare between the flash of lightning and the booming thunder.
4. Moats and Socks
It then became urgent to carve moats around our tents because we were floating in puddles of rainwater. In our systematic stringing tarp in the trees above us and running to-and-fro gathering stones for a fire pit we trudged through the rivers and small lakes forming. Our ponchos were rendered useless as the rain seeped up our sleeves, soaked our hair, drenched our shoes and socks, and gave us wrinkled fingers and toes as though we had been swimming for the last three hours. One concerned soul asked of us, “How long can you leave cold, wet socks on before you get hypothermia?”
5. Smokey Fire of Burning Laundry and Pine
As some of us built up the fire pit with stones, others managed to find enough dry twigs, branches, and dry pine needles in our flash-flood to spark a tiny flame which we kindled with our short breaths in the high altitude and some laundry lint that one of the girls suggested we bring because it is said to keep a flame even in a wet environment. We nursed it until it was a grand flame, then the rains directed themselves to our only source of warmth and killed it. One of us tried desperately to breathe life back into it until the final embers faded into smoke and we convinced her that it was all over.
6. Explosion of Flames
In our desperation, we were certain that food would help warm and fuel us. We set up one propane burner which boiled water enough for one freeze-dried meal pack with speed. We then decided that starting another propane burner would quicken us to full bellies, except that this one malfunctioned: the gas would not release and then, all of the sudden, released all too quickly; the propane cylinder was flung in a fright just a little too close to the flame from the other burner. As the gasoline spilled onto the forest floor and the flame ignited both the fluids and the gas dispersed in the air, those of us crouching near it sprang up and ran from the 7 foot explosion. One girl quickly released the tarp above to let the rain flood it and prevent the tarp from catching fire, another ran in such a haste for fear of being on fire that she ran face first into a tree, while still another frantically dumped all of our freshly pumped lake water on it, and even another beat out the remaining flames with her tiny portable pot until it had been completely snuffed out. Yet another girl reported seeing the flash from inside her tent, unzipped the door flap, witnessed the commotion and resolution, and concluded that we had it under control as she zipped her tent back up. In this moment we experienced what only Adele has tokened as “setting fire to the rain” in which the forest floor was flooded; yet we still managed to set it on fire.
We did decide before the evening was over that what God was trying to communicate to us is that this particular weekend may not be the safest choice to complete our three day backpacking trip, but had it been up to me, we probably would have suffered through the night and into the next day for the sake of roughing it and proving that we could handle this trip without men—had I been the deciding factor, someone probably would have caught pneumonia or lost a few toes due to frostbite. We emerged disheveled, exhausted, shivering, soggy, with sore shoulders and backs, but proud and in hysterics nevertheless. On the upside, no one had to poop in the forest and we did not have to worry about black bears or giant red ants. In the end, the seven hours on the road and seven total hours in Tahoe National Park were oh-so worth it for the hysterical laughter, quality stories told and created on this day, communal sharing and team building, and the ways we learned about God’s provision for us even when it feels as if everything is working against us in the most unfavorable conditions. I may sound delusional, but I cannot wait until we attempt this trip again!
