Strapping on a heavy pack, brave humans ventured into the wilderness in search of environmental adventures. Armed with a map and compass, we decided to navigate our way down the gravel access road and into the untamed forest. Wondering what we might encounter other than the hiking shelters, river, and campgrounds that are clearly marked on our map, we peeked into the archway of evergreens. Who knows if we might encounter lions, tigers, bears or a even a rare albino striped tree snipe. (Tree snipe?)

Previous hiking experience teaches us to pack a field guide. "Tree Snipe? Hey- there's no such thing as a rare albino striped tree snipe!"

Since we knew enough to visit our friendly forest ranger first, we ventured into the backcountry toting pamphlets with information on local animals and plants, water sources, and of course, park maps. With nearly a pound of paperwork shared amongst our sacks, we planned to make our hike a learning experience (and the paper is handy for starting fires on a damp night).

For our first exciting hiking action, we paired off in teams. Everyone had a hiking buddy to "help them with their pack, watch their back, and find a spot to place their sack". This way, we could keep track of everyone in the group. Of course, we didn't plan on spending all of our time only with our hiking buddy, because we had to work as a team to survive 3 days and 16 miles through a wilderness area. But buddies could keep track of each other through the hike, and make it a more pleasant journey.

For the first few miles, we breathed the fresh air deeply and literally bounced along the trail, hats and ropes swinging along on our backpack to the pace of our natural rhythms. The air was invigorating, the sun was warm, and our packs seemed light. Without a care in the world, we could experience science and biolgy first hand, and we spent a great deal of "break time" looking up various trees and scurrying critters in the field guide. We sang trail songs, munched granola, and shared funny stories. We found a shelter with a fire ring for our campsite, and set up our tiny pack tents. Then the sun went down.

That night was cold. Now, I don't mean chilly. Compared to the toasty, sunny day, the night was downright frozen, and we discovered that wet mountain laurel does not make a fire. Dining on smashed ham sandwiches and a crushed bag of chips, we huddled around a burning stem to discuss our day. After the stem sputtered to a curl of smoke and a cough, we retired to our tiny pack tents and snuggled into our bags without removing any coats. The only thing to do in a frigid wilderness area after dark is sleep. So, we retired for the night to a symphony of wind through trees, a running river, and animal sounds.

The morning brought a fresh bit of warmth, and we crawled from our nylon caves to explore the area with a fresh perspective. The tents were still standing in a mostly upright fashion, the fire ring was chock full of damp mountain laurel for the next unsuspecting group of hikers, and the campsite had a breathtaking view of a glistening river. It looked so inviting in the morning sunlight that we grabbed our soaps, towels and toothbrushes to clean up for the coming day. When water touched hiker, our girly squeals scared away the wildlife for several miles. It was what we now call "a moving experience", because after ours baths we were most definitely on the move.

The day started with a view of the map. We had to decide where we were, so we would know how far we would have to hike the next two days.

"OK- how many shelters did we pass on the way in?"

"None."

"According to the map, the first shelter is at the 2 mile mark."

"Hmmm."

In our 16-mile journey, we had whistled our way along two miles. After some quick trail math, we realized that we would have to hike 7 miles each day instead of the 5 1/3 per day by the original plan. For beginning hikers, this was hard work and would be a serious test of our physical abilities and mental fortitude. After 6 miles of our journey, our feet hurt, the packs tugged, and our whistling trail tune had turned to a hiking dirge. So, we did the only thing we could think to do at that time- we started to whine. (Although, this is a common hiking ailment, the antidote is not in the first aid manual, but moleskin generally helps.)

Mile 8 of our journey was to be our greatest achievement. The map showed a shelter between a wooden bridge over a stream and the river! It was the perfect campsite, and we knew it. As we neared the shelter, we felt a new burst of energy and trotted the last few steps down the trail, and directly into a cozy campsite. Our vision of a comfortable shelter on the serene riverbank was shattered by the bright blue nylon flag of another traveler's trail tent.

With a shelter available only every two miles, it would be a while before we could rest. At this point the group became silent, each member lost in their own thoughts and contemplating their surroundings. Little did we know at the time, with our aching feet, sunburned noses, and damp socks that this was the true experience of hiking. Not sinking into misery, but overcoming it. With this realization, we hiked on until we found a campsite. Instead of one of the many occupied shelters, this turned out to be a truly wonderful niche in the woods.

This second night in the backcountry brought out the best of our natural experience. Our tiny, toasty fire of fallen oak branches cooked veggies and s'mores, and the river was a tad warmer from the daytime sun. Once dark fell we were once again lulled to sleep by a chorus of nocturnal creatures.

The morning sun on the map showed only 2 miles left to hike. The lack of campsites had forced us to make our planned 7 into a challenging 12 miles. We fairly skipped down the last bit of the trail, enjoying the warm breeze and the mountain air.

A wilderness hike offers those who complete it a newfound sense of strength. In interacting with nature one realizes that it's not the environment that we have to overcome, but our reaction to the challenge and how we cope with it that counts. Once we appreciate that, we can truly enjoy ourselves outside.