Unlike me, my hubby has no hankerings for spontaneous adventures, touristy attractions, new cities, and beaches.
He prefers the tried-and-true quiet retreats that do not involve mobs of people.
Like our overnight trip down to beautiful Fossil Springs three years ago (I can't believe I didn't blog about that).
Like his almost-annual hikes down to the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon.
Every year he's hiked the Grand Canyon, I've briefly imagined rattle snake bites, falls, and heat stroke which make my heart beat too fast. After which I promptly remind myself that he is healthy and smart and competent. Then I imagine myself with him. At the bottom.
Because something keeps drawing him back there year after year, and I want to know what it is.
I never try to imagine what it takes to get down there, or get back out, because...well, I kind of imagine it will be like wishing I were anywhere else in the world but there on the redwall. Kind of like wishing I were just dead.
Maybe I'm being dramatic, I don't know. But remember this - you have to carry all your water, food, gear, and clothing on your back! Because Dean and his brother's don't do touristy places and mobs of people. That means no corridor trails with pack mules.
This year he is going again. I get to imagine all the potential disasters that will momentarily make my heart beat too fast. I get to remind myself, yet again, that my hubby is experienced and will come out in one piece.
But this year I don't have to lie in bed at night, wishing I were there with him in his little tent, because...
I will be going too!
Yes, the thought is causing some nervous heart palpitations. But....I. Am. Excited!!!!!
I'm thrilled to be going. I'm terrified that I'm actually going. I'm ecstatic.
My plan was to be 100% physically prepared for this hike so that I could fully enjoy the experience (in other words, no thoughts of "just call the helicopters" or "I can't do it, let the rattle snakes finish me off").
While I haven't been able to log nearly as many hours hiking and lunging as I would have liked, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I guess. With nine days till the hike of my life, I don't think I have any other choice but to keep on doing what I've been doing, pack my bags, and pray my legs will support me the entire way.
A few weeks ago, Dean and I filled our packs and hit the mountain for a "test run". At least that was how he termed it as he will be wearing a new pack. I called it training.
We hiked the Weatherford trail on the south side of the San Francisco Peaks.
The hike was exhilarating and the views were absolutely stunning.
I have a feeling that if this is even one-third as grand as the Grand Canyon, I will have absolutely no regrets about having signed on for such a hike.
Ten miles down. Ten miles up. Unparalleled beauty the whole way.
No sweat, right?
It will be totally worth it.