Backpacking – Yea Yea Pueblo

Over the Fourth of July weekend, my family and I went on a short backpacking trip on the Oregon Coast Trail, starting in Downtown Seaside, and ending in Cannon Beach. We spend one night at a hiker camp, and another night at a campground close to town. Guided by the Far Out app, with the Oregon Coast Trail downloaded, we were able to see real-time availability of amenities, check for trail warnings, and plan our trip with precision. It also helped us to gauge the distances between to locations with altitude and distance calculated, making break planning a breeze. The Oregon Coast Trail spans the entire length of the state of Oregon, so we hope to use the map for southern segment exploration later.

This momentous hike marks our first family backpacking trip, and the kids crushed it! We covered 15 miles, and 2500’+ in elevation gain along the Coastal Trail where we took in the salty ocean air, and through the trees along the ridge line, caught glimpses of the famous Northern Oregon Coast rock formations. At times the trails were muddy and overgrown, but most of the route was clear and lined with ferns. And to our delight and disgust, we saw a few enormous banana slugs.

In the evening we were mostly left alone by the mosquitos (thanks, Sawyer Picaridin Insect Repellent Lotion), but the hiker huts were a rodent hot spot with lots of mice scurrying around all night. It was gross and unnerving, but ultimately we were also a little too tired to care. We would have pitched tents the first night but there were so many dead trees around the tent pads, and as we were plotting our evening, we heard a tree fall not too far from our camp site. On that windy night, the huts made more sense.

The incubation period of the bubonic plague has passed without infection, thankfully. As you can imagine an anxious person would, I read everything I could find about the plague in Oregon after we connected to a cell signal — it was a serious concern for us when we lived and camped in Arizona, but not so much in Oregon. A relief.

This stretch of coast line really is world class, I encourage anyone with the time and means to visit the area! The Coastal Highway 101 offers many of the same views from the road, with many small towns to stop and enjoy coffee, souvenirs, or fish and chips.

After we collected our car from Seaside (a short bus ride away from Cannon Beach) we followed the 101 to the Tillamook Cheese Factory and enjoyed some tasty samples while taking in a self-guided tour. We grabbed a meal from their food court and then meandered down the 101 back toward Eugene, stopping here and there to take in some sights and sounds. Upon returning to Eugene, we talked about how enjoyable it is to return from a camping trip to a neighborhood that looks only slightly different from the woods we visited, and appreciated once again the duty assignment we’ve been handed this time around. We love Oregon.

Once upon a time, I used to love backpacking. Packing up my food and shelter and carrying it up a mountain in hopes of reaching a summit above the tree line was exhilirating. Slowly but surely, and a few days later, the mountain would run out of up and I’d be at my destination atop an archive of new memories. But the backpacking experience can also be very humbling. Weather and wildlife, the angry variables, will inevitably have their way with your trip, regardless of your expectations.

Pregnancy resembles backpacking in so many ways; if you’ve experienced one, you can gain some understanding into the level of difficulty involved with the other. For the sake of brevity in this analogy, I’ll skip straight to the moment you find yourself at the trailhead on the mountain, or starting point of your pregnancy.

At the foothills of the mountain, you may notice that the air is thinner. This is kind of like the first trimester of pregnancy. You just need to become acclimated to the new environment. It takes at least a day (for me, at least) to re-train your lungs to deal with the lesser amount of oxygen on the mountain.

Fortunately, by the time you get used to the fatigue and nausea associated with the first trimester of pregnancy, it’s over.

That’s when you hit your stride. It’s easier to take in the wonder of your changing world at this time.

The ascent up the mountain is relatively predictable, but there may be a thunder storm here and there, a mob of mosquitoes, or a patch unexpected snow. The second trimester of pregnancy is the same. Aches and pains become normal, there is a child growing inside of you, after all. The weird stuff happening in your body, like baby’s somersaults, and heartburn hasn’t become freaky yet.

Still, you’re taking it all in and dreaming of the spectacular view from the top.

Then the third trimester hits. Or, similarly, you reach and pass the tree line on the mountainside. Uh oh, you no longer have the tree canopy to shelter you from thunder storms.

In pregnancy, you realize you’re no longer coasting on borrowed parenthood time and that revelation leaves you feeling vulnerable. It’s time to get real about being a parent and make sure you’ve got the tools necessary to be a good one. No matter what, there remains a degree of apprehension around your parenting capabilities. It’s something that parents probably don’t ever get over… it may even be a stipulation to join their club.

On the mountain, now is a good time to get out your rain gear so you can truck straight through the inevitable downpour. In pregnancy, go ahead and wrap up your nesting phase. In both cases, you’ve got the gear and you tell yourself you’re ready for what’s around the corner.

But, guess what? If ever there was a time for things to go awry, it’s now. You could run into a bear on the mountain, or be knocked off a cliff by gusty winds. Lightning could strike you much more easily since you’re on top of a mountain.

Your water could break IN PUBLIC, you could not know you’re in labor and end up delivering in the car, or you could end up delivering an eleven pound baby, vaginally. Or, as in my experience (up to this point), the baby drops and sudden sciatica renders you immobile. I’ve been stuck on the couch all week, unable to cook or clean or have any fun, really. Fortunately my husband is at hand and ready to help in any way necessary. He’s my rain gear, you could say. Without him, I’m not sure hiking straight through the misery* would be tolerable. Anyways, the uncertainty is daunting.

So here I am, at the point of the backpacking trip where I’d rather turn tail down the mountain in hopes of getting to a hotel at a decent hour. At the same point in pregnancy, labor hasn’t even begun, but the fear is taking over. Right now it’s looking like Backpacking is easier than pregnancy, because now I have no choice but to head straight into the storm of labor and delivery, unsure of what’s on the other side. No turning back!

I’ll be sure to let you know when this baby comes, and whether or not there were any bears.

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*I refuse to indulge any of you in the freaky things that my body is doing right now, but if you’re a mother, you undoubtedly know the disgusting (and painful) things your body does when you’re edging closer to labor and delivery.