Recently, my husband shared with me that he completely knew I was “the one,” after I summited Mt. Whitney, a 14,505 foot high peak in the Sierra Nevada mountains. You may think that summiting the tallest mountain in the continental U.S. with your boyfriend is more like a fitness test than a marriage test. But making it to the summit wasn't my whole marriage test, it was just the very end of it. My entire marriage test consisted of a 211 mile backpacking trip with my boyfriend on the John Muir Trail (JMT). Here is the story of how I almost failed this marriage test over the course of twenty eight days on the JMT.
Before this backpacking trip I was completely, 100% in the dark that hiking the JMT was a marriage test at all. At the time of the hike it was the summer of 2000, I was twenty-one years old, a junior in college and had been dating my boyfriend for eight years. Were we a serious couple? Heck yes. We had been dating exclusively since freshman year of high school and we were totally best friends and in love. Back then marriage wasn't really on my radar. I was singularly focused on enjoying and finishing college, and what my career path could be after graduation.
About a year before my Mt. Whitney summit, my boyfriend asked me if I would consider hiking the JMT with him. He was an Eagle Scout, the highest rank in the Boy Scouts of America so he had tons of merit badges and backpacking experience. At first I wasn't very interested in a suffer fest in the woods. Pooping in holes, and sleeping on the ground wasn't exactly my jam. Alas, FOMO got the better of me and I figured that I'd probably regret missing out on such a fun adventure with him. He taped all thirteen individual JMT maps up to his wall showing the entire trail starting in Yosemite National Park and ending at Mt. Whitney. Honestly, looking at thirteen separate trail maps got be worried. Why so many maps? At the time, my camping experience was limited to just RV trips and day hikes. I was a complete backpacking virgin. Since I was a backpacking neophyte we decided to go on a few mini backpacking trips together to test out the idea of a future JMT bid.
Backpacking Training
Our first backpacking trip together was a two night, twenty one mile loop trail at Big Basin Park, in the Santa Cruz mountains. Together we purchased a two person tent, and I tested out my very first backpacking pack that I still own and use today, twenty three years later. This tent was our first major "couples" purchase together. I took to the hiking and nature right away, but backcountry chores like setting up the tent, cooking and pumping water were all new to me. Our second backpacking trip was a twenty mile out and back trail to Sykes Hot Springs, near Big Sur, C.A. The forest service describes this trail as, “strenuous and challenging even for experienced hikers.” This backpacking trip was really beautiful, secluded and climaxed at a natural hot pool that greeted us at the campsite after lugging our gear nine miles uphill on a soggy trail. I totally caught the backpacking bug here, partly due to the magic of Big Sur and the solitude of the forest. I was really enjoying the vibe out in the wilderness, with my special human and everything I needed to survive on my back. My third backpacking training trip was a thirteen mile round trip trip to Wildcat Campground in Pt. Reyes National Seashore. This hike was short and led to a nearly empty campground just steps from majestic views of the Pacific Ocean. My confidence in backpacking had grown a ton and it turned out that my boyfriend and I loved spending hours together exercising in nature. After these three mini backpacking trips I was vetted and considered fit for the JMT. Next up was my fourth ever backpacking trip, hiking the 211 mile JMT over twenty eight days. This trip, completely unknown to me, was a marriage test. No pressure.
On the JMT I packed a yellow “write in the rain” notepad. It's an all weather notepad about the size of your palm and every night after hiking while my boyfriend fished, I wrote in this little yellow journal. I documented our hunger pains, daily fishing totals and campsite reviews. I’ve recently re-read this journal and within in it are hints revealing how I scored on my marriage test. On day one of the hike there is an insightful glimpse into my boyfriend's head versus mine. He wrote, “For over a year I have dreamed of this moment. Sitting by a campfire, with the woman I love, taking in the surroundings, and enjoying the serenity.” Dang, he was really living his best life! Could the hike end there? Maybe I already passed the marriage test? Nope, twenty seven days to go.
I've never asked the details about how my boyfriend scored my marriage test. Did I earn points along the way, or was it all about the finish line? At the time we were inseparable in college spending tons of quality time together. He was my best friend, boyfriend, adventure and study buddy. You would think that I had already proved myself a good marriage partner, but apparently I still had a test to pass. Along the trail I improved my relationship gratitude, mental grit and teamwork skills. The JMT tested these in the context of cold, hunger and exhaustion. In college I wasn’t good at showing my gratefulness, not even for my smart, skilled, tall, sporty awesome boyfriend. I completely and totally took him for granted. My mental grit was on point for sports and school, but for my romantic relationship, I had room to improve. How good of a girlfriend would I be with a lack of food, cold sleepless nights, or grueling uphill hikes at elevation? My hiking trip included some blow ups, tears, breakdowns and almost throwing in the towel. Almost is the key word. Finally, while I was a good teammate on the volleyball court, I had much more to learn about collaborating in my relationship. I wasn’t the best follower of direction, thought that my ideas were mostly the best ones and I was a better leader than follower. In the context of backpacking, I needed to learn to be a better teammate fast, or I may not have a boyfriend at the end of the trip. While I was never really worried about “breaking up” on the hike, it happens to hiking couples more times than you would think. You see, some couples don’t pass the marriage test, I almost didn’t either.
Gratitude
A pretty universal truth about backpacking is that the experience exponentially increases gratitude for the things we take for granted in our modern life. On the second day of my hike I already had some of that growing gratitude. “The night just got better, with chocolate a warm fire and face towel.” The next night sleeping at 1000 Island Lake, “I was thirsty and he was nice and woke up to get water outside. He coaxed me out into the cold night to see the stars - and it was well worth it.” My gratefulness for my boyfriend was growing and somehow was strongly influenced by the gifting of small chocolates. On day seven, “he was nice and gave me half of his chocolate and we settled into our nice new sleeping bags.” On the trail I was more thankful for all sorts of my boyfriends acts of caring, like fishing, cooking, and great companionship. At Chief Lake on day eight I was thankful for him landing, “six fish having good luck with a lure. We had a scare with the stove but he was determined to fix it and as usual, did.” In regular life it was easy to take this man for granted, but miles into the woods my gratitude for him was just growing stronger. On day twelve at JMT ranch, “we dipped in the hot springs - just the two of us. It was warm and relaxing. A very good way to mark our half way point on our journey.” Even if it wasn’t a part of his marriage test for me, my gratefulness for my boyfriend increased tremendously during our journey.
Mental Grit
Way back on my first night on the JMT I summed up my mental grit writing in the yellow journal, “I couldn’t become coherent until 6:15 am. Slept like crap mostly because I was cold.” Not a great display of mental grit after just one night. My biggest mental grit test on the JMT was probably around two thirds into the hike on day seventeen at Palisades Lake. Our last food resupply was scheduled to arrive up Taboose pass just two days later, and was last opportunity to bail on the trip and hike off of the trail. That day I hit a new mental low amid heat, steep inclines and calorie deprivation. I wrote how, “we pushed ahead and hiked a grueling nine miles of uphill and crazy switchbacks...We were fading out quick with our meager lunch and by the time we arrived at the lake we were out of water and energy...We were so tired and grumpy that we pitched our tent and got right inside.” If it sounds like I’m about to bail on the hike, I was. My mental grit was slipping fast and as a couple we talked about maybe, possibly, what would happen if I bailed off the trail? I was really down but not out, yet.
The next day I kept on hiking down the trail with my slipping mental grit. Somehow buoyed up by a calorie fest from our food resupply at Taboose pass, I decided to keep on accompanying my boyfriend to the end at the top of Mt. Whitney. It is evident I was teetering in my day twenty six journal entry, “We squandered all of our good hiking time sleeping...I was ready to just stop hiking but of course he kept on pushing for us to continue. After a few fits of frustration and anger at being dirty and smelly and in the middle of nowhere we made it to Guitar Lake, set down our packs and started washing our rank clothes... I was sick of him being the "food Nazi," so I ate both of my snickers and my extra tortilla to rebel - yum.” I sound like I'm is totally over the trip, losing it a bit, and need some food ASAP. Regrettably, its true that I gave him the nickname "food Nazi." Hangry, dirty, tired, sore, yes to all of that. Would I make it to the end, or bail? Bailing was a real possibility I was considering.
Teamwork
Hiking a long trail with a romantic partner certainly tests the ability of two people to work together to achieve a common goal. This often manifested itself by my boyfriend solving problems on trail. On day eight at Chief Lake, “we had a scare with the stove but he was determined to fix it and as usual did.” On day fifteen at Muir Pass we achieved a cool milestone together. “We were now higher than we had ever hiked before 11,955 feet - it was a great feeling.” We entertained each other on day twenty one making it “to Woods Creek crossing at 4:30 pm where a pleasant surprise awaited us. A long narrow suspension bridge went over the creek and was fun as hell to cross. He had a blast trying to scare me by shaking it.” On our last day hiking, we tackled Mt. Whitney together as a team. We crushed that final ascent passing all of the other hikers in front of us. In the journal I wrote that, “On top we embraced for joy at achieving our goal...Once back at camp he was busy getting our clothes dry, making dinner, and pelting marmots with rocks to protect our stuff.” I had made it to the top of Mt. Whitney. I didn’t bail off of the trail at Taboose Pass, but I did consider it. What if I had? Would I be married to him now? I don’t know that answer. I would have such shame and regret about not finishing, and how could he know for sure that I had the gratitude, mental grit and teamwork needed to have a top notch marriage if I quit? I think that I passed my marriage test by simply finishing the hike. That was my one and sure fire way to pass. And I just barely did, whew!
I think that the core of a good romantic partnership is showing up, sharing the ride together, and not quitting. Hiking the JMT was as good of a marriage test as any, and like any good test, success was not guaranteed. I almost failed my marriage test and quit the hike, not knowing that quitting would have larger implications for my future. Just the same, I didn't realize that finishing the hike set me on an amazing future path with love as well. Some times I think that it is best to be tested without our knowledge. Like a pop-quiz. Although everyone hates pop quizzes, they can serve as a mirror to really show us our aptitude at something. When we know we are being tested we try to be our best self, and do the right things. In reality, we are what and who we are most authentically when we aren't being tested. That is when we are just ourselves. Since I didn't know the hiking the JMT was a marriage test, everything I did and said while out on trail was always the real me. I wasn't on good behavior. I complained, and cried, got angry and was lazy in camp. Despite all that, somehow I still passed my marriage test. I didn't quit and leave the trail even when I was tired of being hungry and sore and cold. Deep down I’m not a quitter, and perhaps that's the best trait for a future spouse. Turns out I was both backpacking and wife material. See you out on the trail.
-Rhea P.
