Bears & Cannibals

Side note: I'll probably make a mini post about Florida. I really wanted to write about that trip but stuff happened behind the scenes that made writing it a little difficult, and before I knew it, a couple of months had passed. But I'm still wanting to, so a mini one might appear later. Yay!

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At the end of August, you can find me in the woods.

I was originally wanting to visit Sedona and some of the nearby parks as well. I had a really good plan on how not to die there in July. Even ChatGPT took a look at my plan and essentially said, ‘those are some good ideas! Your chances of not passing out from heat exhaustion are moderate.’ It cautioned I shouldn't attempt it alone, despite what I had in my Amazon cart.

There's a hike that requires a permit that leads to Fossil Creek in the Coconino National Forest. It looks gorgeous, but the hike down can be brutal, as it is largely uncovered and, from what I've read, steep as well. And in July, the temperature can reach triple digits, but I live here in Houston. Heat that mimics hell with a heaping dose of humidity (making it even worse) is nothing new to me.

So I planned on going, and then asked my sister if she wanted to go along with me, knowing full well she likely wouldn't because she still has a couple littles at home, but I figured I'd shoot the offer her way anyway.

Predictably, she wouldn't, and also voiced the same concern everyone has had and asked if it'd be hot. I then showed her my plan. An ice cooling vest, SPF parasol I could attach to a backpack, hoodies and towels to soak and wrap myself with, a fan for my neck.

I at least got her to laugh.

I was still hellbent on going. That is, until I took my son to his soccer camp thing at the end of June. I sat in the swelteringly hot car as the air conditioning kicked in and glanced at the dash. It was 92 degrees, and it wasn't July yet. And it would be hotter in Sedona by the end of July. I still thought I could do it, but I wanted to be able to enjoy it, and if 92 degrees sucked in Houston, I highly doubted a funny umbrella and neck fan would transform the hike to a spring paradise from miserable to not-miserable like I hoped. I'm stubborn, but not stupid. So Sedona was out.

I then looked into what national parks would be good to go to in July or likely August, and a few of my other bucket list places popped up, including Mount Rainier.

Mount Rainier is definitely a bucket list place for me. I've been quietly obsessing over it (and Sedona.. and a few other places) for a while now. From what I understand, the summer is the best time to go, and August should have the most wildflowers. If you open up my TikTok or Insta, you'll see reel after reel of people hiking it. It's a tower of a mountain surrounded by other monoliths capped with snow, covered in dense forests, and a staunch refusal to be tamed no matter how many people step into the park.

After I picked Rainier, and for about two or three weeks, I kept asking Jack when I should book the trip to make it easiest for him. That's the hardest part: the clicking of the ticket. Committing to go and booking all the things. I've given up booking a campsite actually within the park. I swear National campgrounds are always completely booked every time I look. The same thing happened when I tried for this upcoming trip too.

So instead, I'll be somewhere near Mount Rainier. I found a private campground with great reviews nearby for a decent rate on Hipcamp. It’s near train tracks, and I'll be able to watch the Mount Rainier Scenic Train as it passes through. It'll have a fire pit, shower and bathroom near by, table, water, the works. It's also very close to the national park as well, so the drive will be easy.

I'm more excited than I can say. My last solo trip in Zion was one of the best trip I've gone on in my life, hands down. It healed something I didn't know was hurting. I don't think much about food when I have access to it, but when I feel like I'm starving, then it's all I can think about, and it can cause a dip in my mood. I think nature is like that for the soul, or at least for mine. And like food, I don't think I can go too long without being deep in nature, not without suffering for it at least.

The reasons I'm going alone are largely personal and private, but many are also the same as last year. There's something empowering about planning a solo camping trip, or really any trip, and going. I don't mean that as a “girl power” thing—I think this can apply to anyone. I could use a little self-esteem boost, especially as I go back taking classes again this year. Setting up camp, preparing and going on long hikes, renting a car, campsite, and hotel, all of it, can be incredibly fulfilling. Feeling capable. I love that feeling almost as much as I love being out in the woods.

Zion had flash floods, dangerous heat, and heights (there's a reason I didn't do Angel’s Landing. I have to hold on to a chain to keep from plummeting to my death? Can't I get on my hands and knees and crawl up while crying? Haha. No thanks).

Mount Rainier has its own dangers. Black bears, mountain lions, and incredibly unpredictable weather, because it's a volcano, and they can create their own weather patterns. I feel stupid for admitting this, so laugh if you'd like, but…I didn't know it was a volcano. So. That's fun. And the day after I booked my ticket, there was news that several earthquakes were recorded recently. Good news? They say that you can't feel them, and if the mountain was going to erupt, that they give warning months, let alone weeks or days, ahead of time. Yay! No lava and ash. But then there are the animals.

Honestly, I'm not scared about the wildlife. Black bears, while still dangerous, are less likely to maul you to death. Mountain lion attacks are also rare, and if they decide you're lunch…well, the good news is you won't see it coming. And if given the choice, I'd rather be taken out by the cat. Bears will eat you alive. Pumas at least have the decency to break your neck or suffocate you first.

But I'll be going on the more popular trails, so encounters with either will likely be very low. I'm also a big believer that if you're going into a predator’s home, it helps to know how they attack and hunt to hopefully prevent something bad from happening. I’d really like to do a hike at sunrise, but that's often breakfast time for kitties. I'm undecided if I want to try anyway. I need to figure out exactly how risky of an idea that is, but if I do go, I'll definitely wait to hop on the trail until I see a few other people also at the trailhead, that way I'm at least near others.

The bigger worry for me is the weather and elevation. Even in August, it's advised to prepare for anything while out on the trail. Because of that, I'm having to do more research and prep better. Altitude sickness is also a concern, but I'm looking into ways to prevent that too.

Am I scared to go to a state and park I've never visited before by myself? Yes. But my desire to do it is a lot higher.

One of the things that drives me is finding meaning and understanding out of my experiences, and those usually lead to me understanding more about myself. It's what drives me to go on the trips I've been taking. I normally don't know what it is I'm looking for, and I rarely find it on the trails themselves, but it's normally after. Camping and hiking do two things for me: bring utter calmness and a sort of awe I don't want to leave. I believe that the majority of people need a religion to believe in, but not everyone. I'm a firm believer that you can be spiritual and agnostic. Religion doesn't have a monopoly on something I think is naturally part of being human. I've never felt the reverence and power of a deity like some people express they felt in their souls about the temple, church, or hymnals. And while serving others felt good and brings a sense of connection, I didn't feel closer to God like I know some have. It's beautiful that people find their peace in so many ways and places. But I feel like I've felt it when I'm alone outside, and it's a type of overwhelm I don't ever want to stop feeling. I never liked going to the temple. It did nothing for me. But I feel something in the woods, and I'll gladly consider them a place of worship, whether there's a creator of them or not.

When I went to Zion, I did a lot of activities. I hiked a ton too, but I think I'm keeping this trip a little simpler. I have several hikes I'd like to go on. Maybe I'll see if some adventure company will teach me how to paddleboard. But mostly, I just want to walk in the woods, listen to the earth breathe, and feel whole.

I won't stay as long as my last trip. Four nights, three of which will be at the campground, and the last will be in a tiny home at Paradise Village, a cool little hotel with several options. I mostly would like a place to repack everything properly and not in the back of a car, as well as the opportunity for a better shower just in case the campground ones suck. It also has a Ukrainian restaurant, which sounds awesome! I love trying new food. But what I'm really excited about is the Cannibal Hot Tub.

This thing looks like something out of a fairytale. Like the kind where a witch or a giant wants to put you in a stew and cook you. I took one look at it and immediately imagined some witch rubbing her hands together with a cookbook nearby as she hid in the woods. And then I thought, “I gotta try that.”

The Cannibal Hot tub is this stone and metal looking pot with a wood-burning fire pit underneath to heat the water. It has large arches surrounding it, and it looks more like an archeological find than any modern-day hot tub. And I am ecstatic to sit in it and understand why frogs don't jump out of a slowly boiled pot of water. Bring on the hot tub. It sounds like the perfect thing to end the trip after doing nothing but hiking.

But really, just bring on the whole trip. I'm so freaking excited.