• hazards seem to be a step away at times.
• can teach you humility and safety

I am of the mind that a moderate amount of rain and snow in the mountains can be events to be enjoyed, as long as you are nearby a well equipped and cozy warm tent and sleeping bag (you see a different side of the wilderness in bad weather - and usually get some great photos.)

Even soaking wet dogs are not a problem in the tent as long as the sleeping bag is covered with a waterproof bag liner (one of the most useful pieces of gear I have acquired ), to separate their wet fur from a sound night’s sleep. . This is in accordance with the single most important rule of backpacking – as long as you have a dry sleeping bag you can survive almost anything.

However, even the most confident ‘I can handle anything’ attitude in the mountains doesn’t always prevent you from being a hair away from disaster once in a while.

After the panic and fear dies down following a near-to disaster event, about the most optimism you can muster is that the mountains are teaching you humility.

Close-to-disaster events happened to me twice on my last trip.

The first was when I was crossing a stream on a rounded log with my full backpack on. Rounded logs are pretty much invitations for a fall unless your backpack is perfectly balanced, which mine almost never is. When I was well out over the stream a forward step caused the pack to lean towards the uphill side of the log, which made me compensate towards the downward side, and on and on til I was an ant's hair from tumbling into the whitewater. I froze where I was, which thank goodness was still above the water, then slowly lowered down to the stability of less height to fall from, till after a minute or so I was able to restore my confidence and proceed carefully across the log. (picture 'clinging to it').

It seems like this happens a lot when I try to cross round logs with a heavy backpack on. I often think that it is much smarter to switch out of my backpack boots and into my water shoes and just walk across streams rather than trying to balance on a curved log. Logs that have been flattened with an axe are good. Round ones seem to invite disaster for those of us that tend to be agility-deprived.

A half hour after the log incident I walked right onto an ice flow that covered 20 yards of the trail in a shaded spruce forest. I didn't think much of this at the time since when I had crossed the day before the footing on the ice was real good. Conditions had changed since a day earlier however. A thin sheet of water was seeping over the ice. I discovered this about the time that I noticed myself slowly sliding down towards the trees below the trail. This might have not ended as a problem, but any kind of a fall with a fully loaded backpack has the potential to cause injury, especially for those of us that saw our best years about three decades earlier.

I stood very very still with my trekking poles jabbed into the ice, and was able to arrest my slide downhill. I then took tiny steps, about three inches at a time, til I was able to traverse about 15 feet up to a downed tree at the top of the ice flow. Once there I dropped my poles and fell to my knees grabbed onto that log, and averted a second potential disaster.

Since I backpack alone I feel a high degree of responsibility to go slow and steady to avoid injury, and so far I have been fortunate in that regard. (knock on wood). About the worse thing I can think of is to have some stupid thing happen that would keep me from going backpacking just as the summer season is beginning.

There are some Montana valleys that are homes to grizzly and wolves that I is darn sure yearning to visit this summer, and I am also hoping to climb high up into Wyomings Wind River Range to likely see some ferocious storms crash lightning around the peaks, hear thunder echo from mountain to mountainside.

There are also plenty of Colorado high mountain lakes that I hope to look in on those perfectly still dawns when the cold water reflects mountains with more beauty than can be imagined.

Being careful and avoiding disaster will allow me to complete these journeys before the snow flies next October.