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Life and Leadership

To Win, Back Yourself Against a Cliff

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I am a goal-oriented person. I always am working on a goal, or ten.

From time to time, I refer to the goals I set as Ulysses pacts. A Ulysses pact, or contract, is a self-made decision that binds one to the future. The term refers to the pact Ulysses (Odysseus) made with his men as they approached the Sirens. Sirens were the three dangerous bird women/seductresses who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island.

Ulysses wanted to hear the Sirens’ song but he knew doing so would render him irrational so he put wax in his men’s ears so that they were unable to hear, and had them tie him to the mast so that he could not jump into the sea. He then ordered them not to change course under any circumstances, and to keep their swords upon him to attack him if he should break free of his bonds. (Source: Wikipedia.org)

I set many goals and achieve most of them. And while I don’t take it to the extreme that Ulysses did, I understand his thinking. I absolutely credit the achievement of my goals to my level of commitment to them, and to the fact I tie them to short-term consequence(s) with no chance for compromise. I’m sharing what works for me here in hopes it will be of value to others.

It’s pretty easy to decide to do something. How many of us decide we’re going to eat healthier starting this week? But we don’t. Or we’re going to start going exercising again, and/or we’re going to join a gym.  But we don’t. We are going to limit our alcohol consumption, or give up smoking. But we don’t. We are going to start saying “no” more often. But we don’t. We are going to spend less time watching television. But we don’t. We are going to read more. But we don’t. The list goes on. We all do it.

Deciding, while it’s a start, is not enough. I think pretty hard about something I want to achieve before deciding it is a goal. Then, I commit. (Deciding and committing, while they go together, are not the same things. The distinction is critical. Please watch this video for more.)

Further, if the goal is too big, or too vague then it’s likely the goal won’t be achieved. I would have little chance at succeeding if I were to say, “I want to be healthier” or “I want to watch less television.” The goal needs to be very specific, with no ambiguity. As Chip and Dan Heath so effectively put it in their awesome book, Switch, we should “shrink the change” (make the goal not so vague or big) to increase our likelihood of success.

For me to have any chance at succeeding at a goal, I make a big deal of it to those closest to me. I need not only their support, but also, very importantly, their accountability.

So commitment is the first requirement. Tying the commitment it to short-term consequence(s) is the second.

Neuroscientiest David Eagleman, in an EXCELLENT Radiolab.org podcast, called “Help!,” says one of the best strategies for breaking a habit or making a change or achieving a goal is to tie it to “some sort of emotional salience — some reason why they matter to us right now, otherwise they will never work.”

A personal example is my weight loss journey that started in March of 2009. After three years of growing lazy, overweight and out of shape, the feeling of disgust and regret that I met with every single night when I went to bed served as the best motivator and consequence in my mission to lose weight and get healthy again.

My goal was a long-term one – to be a vibrant mother and wife who takes care of her health and body. But the short-term consequences were what did it for me and kept me true to my commitment to good health once I set that goal. I tied the future goal to a short-term feeling of disgust and regret. I did not want to feel that way. So my battle became a battle of disgust vs. desire (to not exercise and to keep eating too much junk food). In my humble opinion and experience, disgust almost always wins over desire.

Thomas C. Schelling is a Nobel Peace Prize-winning economist who has written a lot about the idea of commitment. (Being a fanatic about commitment, I enjoyed his Strategies of Commitment, which I highly recommend.)

In the same, aforementioned Radiolab podcast, Schelling talks about arranging commitment “so you can’t compromise.”

An example he gives is from ancient Greece. A Greek being pursued by a huge army of Persians had to make a stand on a hillside, and one of his generals said “I don’t think this is a good location to make our stand. There is a cliff behind us. There’s no way we can retreat if we need to.” He told the General, “Exactly.”

Schelling personally enlisted this strategy in his own life. In the Radiolab.org podcast, Schelling tells of his own win over smoking. In 1980, after many failed attempts to quit smoking, he gathered his children together, and told them, “I quit.” But that wasn’t all. He told them they “should never have respect for their father again” if he returned to smoking. Guess what? He never smoked again.

I will give one more example of a goal of mine with short-term consequence, which is far less significant than giving up smoking, but illustrates the effectiveness of the strategy this post is about.

I’m on Day 7 of a 30-day “no nuts or fruits” pact. If I screw up, my short-term consequences for the week are: 1) I cannot have the scoops of ice cream I have on Friday with my sons during our traditional weekly ice cream social, and 2) I have to train/exercise in the streets of Lander, which would mean forgoing the trails in the canyon, foothills and mountains above town, where I prefer to train. (Of course, fruits and nuts are good for a person. But I eat an excessive amount of both, so this is simply a pact to clean my slate on these items before reintroducing them at reasonable and healthy levels.)

By the way, upon hearing the Sirens’ song, Ulysses was driven temporarily insane and struggled with all of his might to break free so that he might join the Sirens, which would have meant his death.

But this is beside the point. He survived AND he didn’t give in to the Sirens. Right? Thanks for listening, and good luck with your goals.

Shelli Johnson is a life/leadership coach. Her business, YOUR EPIC LIFE, Life Should Take Your Breath Away, combines coaching with an epic adventure. Email her for more information.

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My Brooks Range People Made Me Better

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In the Brooks Range, on our last night.

This is Post 2 in a series about my recent Alaska Brooks Range backpacking course.

It was Aug. 6, the afternoon before the start of my NOLS Brooks Range Hiking course. I was in Alaska, enjoying the comforts of the Ah, Rose Marie Bed & Breakfast, in Fairbanks, while waiting for others enrolled in the course to arrive.

As I waited to meet my course-mates, I wondered: What kind of person signs up for a Brooks Range NOLS course?

I generally love people. I get energy from people, and am inspired by people. Still, I get a little nervous before meeting new people.

We would be dropped off by the side of the road, north of the Arctic Circle, a region where evacuation is nearly impossible. We would be off the grid, and we would not be “picked up” for 12 days.

We would be “stuck,” together.

Strangers, dropped off on side of road in the Far North.

After being dropped off, and watching the van drive off, I recalled a quote by John Kauffmann in John McPhee’s Coming Into the Country: “You come to this place on its terms. You assume the risk.”

For me, part of the risk (read: scary part) of the NOLS course was setting off into The Far North with people I didn’t know.

I did not enroll in a NOLS course for the people I would meet. I enrolled in the NOLS Brooks Range Hiking course because I wanted to experience an epic place that is wild and vast and home to very few people, and to learn leadership and outdoor skills from the world’s premier teacher.

The NOLS course is not a guided tour or a vacation. It’s a lot of work. In fact, it is mostly work. The easiest part of the Brooks Range Hiking course was the hiking. When we weren’t hiking, we were setting up camp, cooking or baking, cleaning up, only to wake up again the next morning to break it all down and pack it all up and start all over again.

My hiking team on top of a snowy pass.

At times there was torrential rain, cold, and even snow, and steep slopes and loose rock, and sinking, squishy tundra over which to hike, or tussocks, which felt like hands coming out of the tundra and pulling/tugging your ankles down as you tried to take a hiking step, and there were deep rivers to cross.

We had to work together, which at times meant working out differences and supporting each other in a wide range of circumstances. We had to pull together in times of hardship to move the group forward. It meant being selfless.

Each of us was vulnerable during the course, and often, which meant we really got to know each other.

Working together to set up camp.

Perhaps course-mate Jon (Rosenfield) said it best, in his informal video interview, which I captured near the course’s end, when he said the Brooks Range experience meant “coming back in contact with myself, because there’s no hiding from all parts of yourself out here.”

Indeed. Each of us revealed ourselves in The Far North.

Hiking up a hill toward a mountain pass.

Through thick and thin, I came to love these people who were on my course.

The hardest part of the course for me was being away from, (and out of contact with) my three young sons and husband. My Brooks Range comrades – Antonia, Chris, Jon, JJ, Marc, Pat, Cutter, Lauren and Amy – were a wonderful surrogate family for me. They are not merely friends; they’ve made it all the way into my inner circle, which is saying something because before the course, I already had plenty of wonderful people in my life.

By the end of the trip, I felt right at home. Marc, Chris and Jon, who were part of my cook group, were rolling their eyes at me -- much like my boys do to me at home. 🙂

A couple of weeks before I departed Wyoming for Alaska, I went to coffee with a friend who is a former NOLS instructor and who has spent time in Alaska’s Brooks Range. She shared her photos and further whetted my appetite for the upcoming adventure. One of the things she told me, that struck me, was that the experience would change me, and that one thing I may notice upon my return will be I will have changed, but the world and people around me won’t have changed.

Sure, I changed as a result of experiencing, so intimately, Alaska’s stunning Arctic National Wildlife Refuge and Brooks Range.

But the biggest change in me was brought about by my course-mates. Because they were/are so different from me, I learned much from them, while discovering new things about myself. And in the process, we shared what was for me an unforgettable, experience of a lifetime.

The best way I can describe the way these special people changed me is to say I am better because of them.

My Brooks Range people, on top of our last pass, toward the end of our course.

Antonia, Chris, Jon, “JJ”, Marc, Pat, Cutter, Lauren and Amy: Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

I would love to introduce you to them here:

Antonia Ruppel (or “Toni”), 32, is a native German, with a B.A., Masters and Ph.D. from Cambridge University, is a Senior Lecturer in Classics, teaching Greek, Latin and Sanskrit at Cornell University. Antonia speaks beautiful, “proper” English. I could listen to her for hours if afforded the privilege.

Antonia Ruppel.

I loved having her as a tent-mate. She is the wittiest person I have ever met, and is fascinating to converse with, what with her wealth of knowledge and what is a wide range of interests. Except for our two female instructors, Antonia and I were the only women on the course. As hopefully women readers will appreciate, we girls like our girlfriends for particular types of conversations. It was a treat to retreat to the tent each night and have important – and rich – conversations with Antonia. I would share some of them but then I’d have to kill you. Yes, the conversations were that great. I have never met anyone like Antonia. She is that much of a treat. She is brilliant, charming, and I have to say it again, fantastically funny. I also loved her enthusiasm for hunting down wild blueberries, and her skills at finding (usually several) antlers on every single hike. We will remain friends forever, and I consider myself lucky as a result. 🙂

Chris Scovil, 28, is a Tax Manager at Deloitte Tax LLP, in Chicago, IL. At 6’9”, Chris was “the tall man” on the course. He is a triathlete, has an appreciation for fine food, and his passions include international relations, cooking, thoughtful conversation and the outdoors.

Chris Scovil.

Chris’s courage on loose, exposed terrain, despite his discomfort, was an inspiration to me during the course. I was fortunate to be in Chris’ cook group, and on many days, in his hiking group, and can fondly recall many meaningful conversations we shared. Chris was often the first to start doing the “common work” that had to be done every morning and evening, even as all of us were getting soaked in a downpour. He placed a great deal of respect on goals and schedules, which I really appreciated during our course, and in my life, in general. One other thing about Chris is that he has a big vocabulary. Prior to this course I was proud of the extent of my vocabulary, but on a few occasions Chris used words I didn’t know the meaning for. A word lover, I found these instances exciting. 🙂 I would be on Chris’s team any day. He is not only really smart and driven, but also courageous, loyal and generous.

Jon Rosenfield, 42, is a Ph.D. conservation biologist for the Bay Institute in the San Francisco area. This was his fifth NOLS adventure, which to me, meant he is an expert at all things NOLS. He took me under his wing and taught me how to master the camp stove and the spice kit.

Jon Rosenfield.

He helped me turn unspectacular entrées into spectacular entrées, such as the apricot, cashew and sunflower nut quinoa meal I made for our cook group the night before an arduous hike over a big mountain pass. Jon is engaging and smart and funny. He had many of us in stitches for long periods of time. We had many great conversations “in the kitchen” and while sharing caffeinated mud from his coffee press. Due to his many NOLS experiences and his unending good nature, it really was a gift to be on the course with him. By the end of our trip I felt like I had known Jon for most of my life. He was probably the first of my course-mates to make it into my inner circle. Which is really saying something. 🙂

Marc Morisset, 31, was born in Belgium, Brussels, but now lives in Paris, France, where he is an international sales manager. Marc is well-traveled (he has traveled to 50 countries), and after our initial conversation, I sensed he was hungry for an outdoor experience and a physical challenge.

Marc Morisset.

Throughout the course, I admired Marc’s quiet leadership, especially the way he would step up and lead, with conviction, when he was asked to be “on point.” I remember the day our group was crossing the Continental Divide, and Marc was asked to take point on what was a very steep, loose slope of rock sliding on top of more sliding rock. He rose to the occasion and did a phenomenal job of route finding. As someone who asks a lot of questions, I appreciated Marc’s own questions of others in his desire to learn. He was there to be challenged, and to learn, and he applied himself to the course, and to our mission, to the full extent. When I first met him my impression was that he was a very serious man, which certainly I think he is, but I also got to see a very fun, and funny side of him when we taught him how to play gin rummy, and during his telling a story about his role in playing high stakes poker. I am glad that I met Marc, and that he is among my friends.

Cutter Williams turned 27 during our course, and is from Portland, OR. He is a writer, who works as a barista at a popular coffee house. When he’s not a barista, he is working toward publishing a magazine called Cavalcade Literary Magazine. I found Cutter and I to be kindred spirits in that we both would like to, well, just walk, preferably forever, even it’s all uphill.

Cutter Williams.

Introspective, Cutter was often laying in the tundra reading a novel or writing in his journal along a babbling brook. I envy Cutter’s ability to “chill.” I have three unforgettable memories that occurred on the course involving Cutter: an air ping pong game on his birthday that we played until we realized we didn’t have anyone willing to chase the ball for us, skipping rocks across the Chandalar River, and also his finishing my “Yeehaw” bear calls with his signature finish. Watch for his name in future literary works. I have a hunch that great literary things are in store for Cutter. I also hope to take him “walking” in my back yard, the Wind River Mountains, one day. I think he’d love ‘em.

Pat Kirby, 25, is an investigator for The Public Defender Service for the District of Columbia, in Washington, D. C. Two things I’m absolutely certain of after having spent time with Pat is that he is an extraordinary friend to his friends, and that his employer is lucky to have him on board. He very evidently cherishes his friends. This was obvious when he referred to them in conversation.

Pat Kirby.

It is obvious to all around Pat that he is a man of honor and integrity, which must serve him well in his work, which he loves, including the responsibility that comes with it. Pat is a natural team player. I witnessed him many times winning consensus while leading or being on point during a hike, or even during tasks at our camp. He is a good initiator, but is also an active follower. It is evident that in all areas of his life, he is a contributor. He is someone I’d want on my team, and I would be honored to be on his. He is sometimes quiet, and so it’s an exceptional treat when he finds something really funny because his laugh is quite boisterous, and when he gets going, it’s contagious. I imagine those closest to him get to hear that a lot, and I envy them for that. 🙂

John Jostrand, or “JJ,” is 57, and is a partner in an investment management and banking firm in Chicago, IL. John is married and has two grown sons. I connected with JJ for many reasons, but initially because we are both spouses and parents and had those things in common. He was also the oldest (yet as fit as a 25-year-old) on the course, so I, the second-to-oldest, looked to him for his wisdom on all kinds of fronts. JJ (very obviously) is an effective leader.

John (JJ) Jostrand.

He is enthusiastic, warm and engaging. His love for the outdoors and physical challenge was evident throughout our course. Others gravitate toward him. I was fortunate to be in JJ’s hiking group often, but a few of the experiences with JJ that I’ll never forget include the time we had a “Vista Data” break and he discovered a location at which an unfortunate dall sheep met its end. It was quite a find! JJ was also along when we “went swimming” in the Brooks Range, and again during our “rock sledding” adventure. JJ had many notable bear calls, but “Booyah!” was his signature call and I will think of him now whenever I hear that word. He also had a stash of Brazil nuts that he shared with me throughout the course. JJ is a kindred spirit. I admire him and am better for having met him.

(Instructor) Lauren Rocco, 25, is in her second year as a NOLS field instructor and recently relocated to Palmer, AK. She graduated from Dartmouth College in 2008 with a degree in Government and an interest in Computer Science. Upon graduating, she caught what she calls a “travel-exploratory bug,” and wanted to travel and learn more. In 2008-09 and 2009-10, she went to Antarctica to shovel snow and work in the carpentry shop.

Lauren Rocco.

Most recently she was a teacher at a charter school in Boston, MA. Lauren is currently enrolled in an EMT course and in addition to leading NOLS courses, she would like to volunteer for the local Search and Rescue. Lauren told me that she finds instructing for NOLS is meaningful, impactful, challenging, and “it obliges everyone involved to become better human beings.” When she’s not leading a NOLS course, she’s likely learning something, constructing something, reading, cooking, programming, or going for walks and exploring. I found Lauren to be a most effective leader, engaging and sensitive to both the environment and those around her. Her love of learning and her genuine interest in others was demonstrated throughout our course. She often read poetry to us during our evening meeting. In addition to being a great leader, Lauren is a lot of fun to be around. I went swimming, “rock sledding” and played “Ninja” in the Brooks Range – all of which happened when I was in the company of Lauren.

(Instructor) Amy Davidson, 36, is a NOLS field instructor and program supervisor. She graduated from the University of California at Berkeley with a major in Linguistics and a minor in Education. She took her NOLS Instructor course in May 1999 and worked her first course that summer. Subsequently she worked one summer course per year while working in San Francisco as a creative services consultant to the advertising industry.

Amy Davidson.

In the past two years, Amy has been a full-time NOLS employee, working in Alaska during the boreal Summer and in New Zealand during the balance of the year. Amy is smart and very funny. Her style is directive and yet engaging. As someone who wants to be a leader but can use more directive, I learned a lot on the course by watching Amy’s leadership style. She was well liked – loved – and yet has a knack for being directive and decisive. In being that way, Amy really enables her students to become more than what they otherwise would become as leaders in the outdoors. Amy is a high level leader who instills confidence in those she leads by challenging them to not be afraid to try, and even fail, and to embrace doing so in the pursuit of learning. I really enjoyed having Amy as one of our instructors and she is a great model for me.

Thanks for reading! Please check back soon for more blogging about my Brooks Range experience.

FOR MORE PHOTOS, AND VIDEOS:

Videos

Photos – part 1 of 2

Photos – part 2 of 2

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The National Outdoor Leadership School is the world’s premier teacher of outdoor skills and leadership. Consider enrolling in a NOLS course. There are many to choose from, throughout the world. Or, request a catalog that provides in-depth course information.

This Hike Takes Your Breath Away

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Hi.

It was very early morning on July 29, when reasonable people were still in their beds sleeping.

Four of my closest girlfriends met my husband and I at our house at 3:09, and by 3:17, we departed for the trailhead at Dickinson Park, about an hour-and-a-half drive. Despite the early hour, as we left Lander, it was 67 degrees outside. A couple miles outside of town, a star shot across the black sky that was heavily dotted with dazzling, sparkling stars. As we approached the trailhead, we watched a small herd of elk cross in a meadow in front of us.

Holly Copeland, Leann Sebade, Kathy Swanson, me, and Kathy Browning, on the Bears Ears Trail. (See the Bears Ears in the background)

By all indications, the day would be a stellar one.

This “epic adventure” is a trip I planned back in late spring. As readers of this blog know, one of my passions is long distance day hiking, particularly in my backyard, Wyoming’s southern Wind River Range. I love to hike far in a single day, in a landscape whose natural beauty takes my breath away, with people who are positive, interesting, fit, funny, and who are a pleasure to be around. If all goes well, my heart, mind, soul and health benefit.

I feel so strongly about the benefits of this type of epic pursuit that this hike would serve as sort of a “test drive” for a product I plan to offer in my new leadership/coaching business.

Hiking near the end of the Bears Ears Trail.
We enjoyed epic views like this one, of Grave Lake and Musembeah Peak.

There were six in our group, including Kathy Swanson, Kathy Browning, Leann Sebade and Holly Copeland, and my better half and frequent hiking companion, my husband, Jerry. (Jerry and I had this hike on our life list, but he also generously offered to help me by taking additional photos to capture the magnificence of the day.)

We would start at Dickinson Park, hike the Bears Ears Trail to its end, connect to and hike the Lizard Head Trail to the North Fork Trail, and then head back toward Dickinson Park. The start and finish are separated by two miles of dirt road. If there’s one thing we like to think we are, it’s smart, so we took two cars and dropped one at the end before we started hiking.

We hiked at altitudes of 11,000 feet to 11,700 feet for much of the day.
A huge rock formation between Bears Ears and Lizard Head trails.

The hike, according to the maps we had on hand, indicated the adventure would be about 26.2 miles — a marathon hike. (Turns out the maps were wrong; our trusty GPS, along with the signage on the trails, would indicate that in fact our loop hike measured 29.3 miles.)

The hike would start at 9,400 feet elevation and climb to just under 12,000 feet in places. For much of the hike, we would be between 11,000′ and 11,700′. All told, there was 5,700′ of elevation gain.

In other words, this adventure would be more than a long walk; it would involve some lung-busting and muscle-tearing. The payoff, of course, would be panoramic mountain views that would continue to unfold in front of us for long periods of time, as well as meaningful conversation and a fun time with kindred spirits.

Ascending a snow field at our start on the Lizard Head Trail.
My husband, Jerry, waiting for us girls.

The first three miles are a climb through gradual, but seemingly endless switchbacks through lodgepole forest. Once out of the trees, we were at 11,000′ and hiking in alpine tundra by sunrise. Like I said, by all (continuing) indications, it would be a stellar day.

The Bears Ears Trail gets its name for a rock tower formation that looks exactly like a (teddy) bear’s head, complete with its two ears on top. You can see the Bears Ears from various spots in the front/low country we frequent, so it’s a treat to walk right under it and to see it up close.

Early Native Americans, particularly the Shoshone and Crow Indians, frequented this area to hunt for bighorn sheep, and to perform religious ceremonies.

Alpine tundra and granite peaks were the flavor of the day on the Lizard Head Trail.
Brief celebration along the way.
Quick huddle.
Enjoying some thin air.

At this point, you can see Funnel Lake, before continuing through a low saddle called Adams Pass before dropping to a bridged (marsh) crossing of Sand Creek.

After crossing Sand Creek, we continued to the right of Sand Creek and ascended a rocky trail. The granite is this area is 2.5 billion years old. It’s hard not to feel insignificant in the spectrum of time when hiking amongst such old rock.

Stopping to take in the views.
Lizard Head Peak.
Happy hikers.

At the seven-mile mark, we were handed our first real prize – a jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, panoramic view of the Wind River Range. Mount Washakie and Washakie Pass, Bernard Peak, Lock Leven Lake, Chess Ridge, Mount Hooker (with its perpendicular 1,600-foot-tall face), Grave Lake, Mount Bonneville, Musembeah Peak, and more. Imagine a view of towering, silver granite, snow-covered mountain peaks with a scattering of glaciers and lakes and you get the picture.

This is a great turn-around spot for reasonable-but-fit day hikers. Even better, though, would be to do a quick scramble to the top of Mt. Chauvenet, which stands 12,250 feet tall and is right there behind you as you’re taking in these magnificent views of the Wind River Range. Jerry and I climbed it about 12 years ago and I can’t recommend it enough.

We stayed on the Bears Ears Trail and continued up, until the trail crested and we opted to enjoy a short break while taking in the awesome views.

Up next for us was connecting to the Lizard Head Trail. The Lizard Head Trail would connect us to the North Fork Trail. Some of us had previously hiked the Bears Ears Trail, as well as the North Fork Trail, but always on separate occasions and had never linked the two trails. Jerry and I had long wanted to see what Lizard Head Trail was like. In looking at a map, and having climbed the massive Lizard Head Peak in 1999, we knew it could only be awesome.

And boy, were we right about that.

Lunch with a view.
My husband, Jerry, leading us on the descent into the North Fork.

After connecting to the Lizard Head Trail and ascending a snow field, or two, we reached sweeping views of additional sections of the Wind River Range. In fact, for the next several (seven?) miles we hiked on alpine tundra that was littered with an abundance of tiny, fragile wildflowers of all colors and kinds, and lichen-covered rocks while being overshadowed by one granite peak after another to our right.

We’re talking jaw-dropping scenery. The kinds of views that can move you to tears, and, especially given the altitude, take your breath away and leave you speechless. For moments at a time.

I’m usually a swift hiker and we had a timeline to keep for this long hike. But, during this stretch, I “strolled” quite a bit. It was impossible not to. The views were just so amazing and the hiking too enjoyable. The air is thinner on this trail, though. Some of us had faint headaches and I reminded the group — and myself — to take deep breaths to counter the effects of the thin, oxygen-deprived, high altitude air. I, as well as Jerry, and the others, snapped tons of photos along this section. (As you can see from the number included in this post!)

Wildflowers and Cirque of the Towers.

After about seven miles of hiking on the Lizard Head Trail, we were afforded views of the famous Cirque of the Towers. (Yeehaw!) The Cirque of the Towers are an amazing collection of 17 peaks that provides world-class climbing. We could also see Lonesome Lake, which is situated directly below the Cirque.

Lizard Head Peak stands 12,842′ tall and is the star of this section of the Lizard Head Trail. No wonder it is the trail’s namesake. 🙂 About one mile northeast of the Cirque of the Towers, Lizard Head is the area’s dominant peak. From our vantage we enjoyed a magnificent view of its east face, which towers 2,300 feet above Bear Lake.

Here, with Lizard Head, Bear Lake, the Cirque of the Towers, Lonesome Lake, Mitchell Peak, Lizard Head Meadows and The Monolith as visuals, we stopped for a short break. This now marks the best lunch spot I’ve ever experienced.

Because we were on a timeline, and by now, knowing that the hike would be a few miles longer than the original marathon distance we had anticipated, we started moving again, descending toward the North Fork of the Popo Agie River, where we would connect to the North Fork Trail.

Once we hit the North Fork Trail, we were back in the forest. The trail was more kind — both in terms of grade and terrain. The shade was also nice, given it was early afternoon and we were hiking at a reasonable elevation. Here, many of us (re)lathered ourselves with bug spray and some of us donned head nets. Darn it — the mosquitos were out in force. Fortunately we had all expected this.

The Monolith and the North Fork of the Popo Agie River.

Rivers in the Wind River Range were/are raging right now compared to normal, given the abundance of snow and moisture our mountains received this past winter and spring. We knew we had at least four river crossings to contend with but had been informed before our departure that they were all passable. Still, we were a little anxious in anticipation, as turning back was not something we wanted to consider.

It was a few miles of level, fast hiking before we reached the first crossing. The water was swift and hit most of us in the mid- to upper-thigh for part of it. But the water felt great and we all crossed successfully, although some of us did so with more mental ease than others. I’m not a huge fan of river crossings so was glad to have this first one behind us. Reportedly, it would be the worst of the crossings.

One of five water crossings on the North Fork Trail.

The next one, however, proved to be swifter than our first. We took our time, and again, we all crossed with no more than some anxiety.

Turns out there were three other crossings that required us to de-shoe, but they were easy and the water provided a welcome relief to our tired, dirty, “protesting” feet.

Except for the bugs and the water crossings, in my opinion, the North Fork Trail is a walk in the park. From Lizard Head Meadows to Dickinson Park the distance is 13 miles and the elevation change is a mere 1,000 feet.

That said, as is usual for these long hikes, the last two miles feels like four, if not more. With about 25 miles on our legs, we were pretty much cruising through the forest with little effort. At one point, I asked Jerry, the GPS-carrier, what our elevation was and he said, “8,600 feet.” What? I asked him again two more times and each time the answer was the same. This was a little demoralizing considering I/we knew the end was located at about 9,400 feet.

The character-building portion of the hike (if there was one?) for me, and I’m guessing for the others, was at about the 26-mile mark, where we walked on a dusty, hot trail through a recently-burned section of forest and then had to grunt up a hill for about 1,000 feet only to descend a couple hundred feet and go for what was a couple more miles (that seemed like five or six) to get to the end.

Once at the end, we had cold beers in a cooler (a surprise reward from Jerry), and Kettle Chips and Rainier cherries from Leann. All hit the spot!

But the biggest reward for me, and hopefully for my comrades, is that I had gained an epic experience, memories to last a lifetime, inspiration that will serve as fuel for me, stronger friendships, and a health benefit to boot.

Yeehaw! Beers all around after an epic day.

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