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Show sick. The stress and worry of the past month or the torrential rains we had come upon once we crossed the Mississippi had finally settled in his lungs and nasal passages. A late start out of Cozad meant we didn't fill the spare tire with air, and right outside of Ogallala we blew another tire. Two hours of work on the side of the road and the help of some strangers allowed us to hobble to the next town. Two hours after that we had a new tire and were back on the road. By the time we reached Jerry's house in Denver it was close to midnight. The next morning we were supposed to head out bright and early for our first backpacking trip ever. Either the lack of sleep or the altitude caused most everyone in my family to feel ill the following morning. The drive to the trail head was punctuated with bouts of Bryan throwing up. Every few miles, we would pull the car over and Bryan would lean out the window. At one point on the trail we would temporarily lose my brother when he passed out in a field of wildflowers unable to walk another step. By the end of the first day, everyone in my family except me was throwing up. Their bodies were used to breathing at sea level and the air was too thin in the mountains. To make matters worse we had gotten lost and couldn't find the right lake. Because my family had only car camped in the past and never backpacked, we had packed poorly, filling our backpacks with heavy jeans and too many changes of clothing. On the final push up a hill to our campsite, hip belts digging into our bones, we were reduced to counting thirty steps and resting, then thirty more. By flashlight, we set up camp. That night it began to rain and did not stop for four days. 206 |
