Earlier this week, along with friends Joseph and Abram Lindvall, I disappeared into the High Sierra for a multi-night backpack. We had laid out a fairly ambitious schedule, but were unfortunately forced to shorten the route because of pain in my knees, due partly to a sports-related over-exertion injury a couple weeks prior and partly to a general lack of consistent athletic conditioning this season.
The guys handled it really well and were very understanding, but I felt bad: bad for them, and bad for me, too. Naturally enough, I'm not too fond of admitting weakness, and I was disappointed by my poor performance. But the humiliation in requesting an early retreat was less bitter than the potential humiliation in being stretchered out of the backcountry as a Search & Rescue technician who should know better. Like they say: if you have to eat crow, eat it while it's hot.
We did, however, have some good fellowship, see some beautiful country, and manage to enjoy ourselves quite a bit. Trail-burner and Daddy Longlegs, you guys are amazing!