Finding Her Grit

    I can still remember the day Addison found her grit.  We weren't even in mile two of a four day backpacking trip in the Colorado Wilderness... Addison was on the side of the trail puking.  Now, I don't remember if I was holding her hair back or standing next to my brother watching her like a deer in the headlights, shocked and wondering what I had gotten us into.  I knelt next to her and told her she had altitude sickness and that was it, we couldn't go on.  I could tell right away this was a disappointment to Addison.  I could see the tears begin to build as she fought to hold them back.  We had already made sacrifices for this trip.  We had slept in the back of the van the night before at the trailhead so we could get an early start hiking the next morning.  We had spent weeks getting a nine year old outfitted for a 10 mile hike into the backcountry only to setup a basecamp and hike even more.  Now that the day was here, altitude sickness had snuck up on her like it does for many "flatlanders" possibly ending our trip..  As she began to cry, Addison looked at me with a stern face and said "No, I can do it Dad!"  I began to explain to her that it was alright, when hiking in the backcountry, a person needed to know their limitations and this was one of them.  With every step we took up the mountain, it was that much farther away from the trailhead, that much farther from our transportation and ultimately, that much farther from any type of emergency facilities.  At this point, I could see the fire starting to burn in her eyes.  The fire of grit and ambition.  The fire that drives people to run marathons, carry people out of burning buildings, the fire that makes people do miraculous things...  She was nine and the fire was burning bright.  "We drove all the way out here Dad, I can make it!" Addison told me with as much confidence and sincerity a nine year old could have.  I stood up, looked at my brother Trevor, I think his eyes were as big as mine.  He knew very well the risks we were taking by walking farther into the Wilderness.  People have had to get flown out by rescue helicopters due to altitude sickness, which almost always leads into other problems..  I knew this was a fire that needed to be kindled, it was delicate and if we fed it right, Addison could find her grit and realize, she could do miraculous things in life...

    As we trudged up the mountain, I thought about those Dads that lead their families into danger, lacking common sense to know and understand when to stop.  At that moment, I was that Dad.  I took Addison's pack off her back and carried it like a purse while carrying my own.  In the other hand, I held a water bottle and made her drink a little every time we took a short break to ward off dehydration which is always the dirty little minion that follows altitude sickness around.  I could tell she was struggling, more than likely suffering from a headache, which is one of the many wicked symptoms of altitude sickness.  We had started early and we had all day to make the 10 mile hike into the lake that was to be our destination.  Trevor and I had been whispering on the trail, discussing a back up plan of camping at the next creek we came to.  The creek would provide us with the water we would need, the basic necessity of all life. 

    When we reached the creek, we all sat down, took our packs off and filled our water bottles with the cold mountain water.  Addison was suffering, but I could still see the fire in her eyes.  "How about we camp here for the night Addison?" I asked with a smile.  Trevor followed with support, commenting on how the creek would make a great spot and stopping point for the day.  We still had a few days in the mountains, we could finish the last 5 miles tomorrow.  Addison knew we were short changing her and reassured us that she could make it to the lake which was our planned destination for the day.

    

    From this point forward, I don't remember the exact details of the rest of the day.  I remember it to be grueling as I carried my pack, Addison's pack like a purse and a water bottle in the free hand.  To be honest, I was ready to quit, I hadn't trained to be a Sherpa and at this point, that is what I was.  The last half mile, the trail goes almost straight up, leading to the glacier carved hole that now holds the water of the lake.  Addison barely made it, her body completely worn out from the day.  No sooner than I got the tent setup and the sleeping bags rolled out and Addison crawled in for the day.  She had fed her fire every ounce of fuel she had left in her body.  She had found her grit and I couldn't have been prouder.

    The next few days were magical.  We explored and talked about all the fruits and labors of Nature and the mountains.  The marmots had deemed Trevor extra salty on this trip as they chewed on his shoes, hiking poles straps and clothes seeking the minerals that his body had sweated out on the hike in.  Addison was enthralled by them and laughed as Trevor chased them off, fearing they would chew a hole in yet another one of his possessions.  We day hiked and explored the region, fishing different lakes, exploring mountain ridges and hiking to nearby waterfalls.  We seen sheep and deer and watched the birds scavenge or campsite looking for scraps of food we may have dropped.  The fire she had fueled had now paid off and I think like me, she was loving every minute of it.

This particular lake was very fruitful.

Addison and Uncle Trevor Fishing

    The morning of the 4th day came and we had to hike the 10 miles out back to the trailhead and back to civilization.  For the most part, it was all downhill.  The descent of the trip was here and I think we were all disappointed to leave.  There is no questioning, I had not planned very well for a nine year old.  Not only had we struggled up the mountain and endured too many miles the first day, but I had not packed several of the necessities a delicate young girl would need.  Addison's ears were blistered and peeling from the high altitude sun.  Her lips were dry, cracked and bleeding from the arid and windy elements of the mountains.  Her hair was greasy and tangled from not washing it and no brush to comb through it.  Addison said she wanted a buffet to eat at on our way home.  She was hungry, her fire had been fueled and I wasn't going to tell her no.  When we stopped to eat, I told Trevor it was going to be a miracle if we got out of there without child social services being called.  She looked like hell warmed over, but she had found her grit in life...and that is what will some day make her extraordinary.

To my family...you are the inspiration in my life.