We wanted to try something different and do a winter backpacking trip. The plan was just for one night, a few miles back on a trail that, while Trent had done it before, is apparently known for being hard to follow. And that's when it isn't covered in snow... see where this is going?


We got lost pretty quick. But after some backtracking, we found the trail.





This is a picture of Trent and I watching the "ground" wash away after Trent hopped to the other side of this sketchy, half-frozen, very full creek. We ended up on opposite sides of the creek for a while trying to figure out a safe way to get Trent back.


After climbing up this small bluff, I heard yelling in the distance. Sarah found us.


After trying to help Trent find a safe spot to cross, Sarah broke through and fell in, getting her boot and leg completely soaked. Game over.


She was a good sport about it.


Last known photo of Trent. He lives over there now.


After tossing a large rock on the ice and watching it bounce, we decided this was the best spot to try and cross. Trent got a few steps out and immediately broke through, going up to his thighs in cold, rushing water. You can see the marks where he had to pull himself out and crawl to the other side. Game over again.


They were both good sports about it.



We said fuck it and went home.

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