Halfway through an August backpacking trip, along a shadeless ridge in the Cascade Mountains, we started running out of water. The intermittent stream we’d hoped to find halfway between our morning and evening camps had dried up.
Temperatures and tempers rose. When we were a few miles from evening camp, I saw that Jake was beet-red in the face and staggering. I offered him the last of my water. He cussed me out, insulted me, and refused. I was surprised and hurt at how vehemently he’d refused my gesture.
Years later, I discovered in the evening on day 1 of a hike through Zion National Park that I’d forgotten my sleeping bag in the back of the car. The desert’s hot during the day, but frigid at night. I told nobody, put on my limited warm clothes, jammed my legs into my backpack, and shivered every night for five or six days.
I haven’t thought about these two incidents side by side before. Now, I understand something of why Jake refused the water that day. We were both in the same situation, neither of us was the leader, and it was more important to him to appear self-sufficient than to slake his thirst.
It’s important to distinguish minor discomfort from serious danger. Hypothermia and dehydration are often dangerous because they impair your judgment. Making uncomfortable choices for the sake of self-sufficiency is fine. Making dangerous choices for the sake of self-sufficiency is irresponsible.
Halfway through an August backpacking trip, along a shadeless ridge in the Cascade Mountains, we started running out of water. The intermittent stream we’d hoped to find halfway between our morning and evening camps had dried up.
Temperatures and tempers rose. When we were a few miles from evening camp, I saw that Jake was beet-red in the face and staggering. I offered him the last of my water. He cussed me out, insulted me, and refused. I was surprised and hurt at how vehemently he’d refused my gesture.
Years later, I discovered in the evening on day 1 of a hike through Zion National Park that I’d forgotten my sleeping bag in the back of the car. The desert’s hot during the day, but frigid at night. I told nobody, put on my limited warm clothes, jammed my legs into my backpack, and shivered every night for five or six days.
I haven’t thought about these two incidents side by side before. Now, I understand something of why Jake refused the water that day. We were both in the same situation, neither of us was the leader, and it was more important to him to appear self-sufficient than to slake his thirst.
It’s important to distinguish minor discomfort from serious danger. Hypothermia and dehydration are often dangerous because they impair your judgment. Making uncomfortable choices for the sake of self-sufficiency is fine. Making dangerous choices for the sake of self-sufficiency is irresponsible.