Pulling Their Own Weight Girls Learn Self-Reliance On Backcountry Trip

They looked like ordinary girls. Braids and ponytails, short-cropped hair and mops of curls. Painted toenails and the occasional glitter of orthodontia.

One wore piggy slippers. A few had stuffed animals poking out of their sleeping bags.

The scene resembled a typical slumber party, with one notable exception.

The bedtime enactment of the “Cremation of Sam McGee” ended to light applause and a few muffled “Goodnights,” as the headlamps flickered out. In the time the two dads needed to crawl down from the loft, the cabin had become as quiet as the winter woods outside.

“That might be a world’s record for getting eight girls to sleep,” Tom Frost whispered.

No wonder.

The girls, ages 10 to 13, had drawn the shades on a 15-hour day that included a six-mile uphill ski trek, not to mention a dozen side trips to follow the stories written in the snow by wintering wildlife.

They greeted the steepest uphills that day with songs. The fastest downhills were spiced with screams.

They pulled lunches from their packs to eat while sitting on drifted snow high above Washington’s Methow Valley. Even grumpy people looked at them and smiled.

Their giggling and sheer enthusiasm warmed the inside temperature of the Gardner Hut by 20 degrees before a fire could be kindled in the wood stove.

They consumed spaghetti at the rate of an NFL football squad and washed their own dishes with melted snow.

Then, with the tiniest bit of encouragement, they stepped into their skis again and glided off under the stars, leaving the groomed trail to soar off natural jumps and squeal like coyotes in the light of a full moon.

The cabin was dank that night with the odor of wet mittens, socks and sweaters hanging from the cabin walls and rafters.

For most of them, it had been the longest skiing day of their young lives, yet they woke the next morning ready for anything winter could deliver.

Including the outhouse at temperatures in the teens.

Perhaps no single lesson convinces a girl that she can carry her own weight in life.

But a backcountry ski trip can help.

With a little advance preparation, virtually all kids will thrive on the road less-traveled. Their self-reliance will improve as well as their self-confidence.

Rendezvous Outfitters, a small operation based in Winthrop, Wash., provides perfect destinations for such basic causes. A series of five huts is maintained along 50 kilometers of a high, remote trails system groomed by the Methow Valley Sport Trails Association.

Groomed trails eliminate the gamble a group would have to take with the normal vagaries of backcountry snow conditions.

The huts are the carrot that lures a kid away from the parking lot, and relieves the doubts her parents might have in letting her go.

Four lean-to huts are large enough for eight people, while the cabin-style Gardner Hut can accommodate 10. They are equipped with sleeping pads, pots, dinnerware and utensils, plus a woodstove and a gas stove and lights.

The huts cost $150 a weekend night. The outfitters will haul gear behind a snowmobile for an additional $75 a shuttle. Great deals are offered during mid-week, including a two-night package complete with two gear hauls for $210 for mid-week visits before Christmas.

“The type of people who are willing to work a little harder and get away from the luxuries and enjoy this experience are a pleasure to accommodate,” said outfitter Phil Heitman.

These customers are not a helpless or litigious bunch, he said.

“We’d don’t advertize. We exist by word of mouth. We could be commercialized, but something we’ve got here would be lost if we did that.”

Such is the miracle of the Methow Valley, where world-class recreation experiences are still available at country prices from people who simply like that style.

One must wonder, then, why the hut guest book is largely filled with names of Puget Sound-area adults. Hardly anyone has logged in from the Spokane area, which is only 3-1/2 hours away.

A surprisingly small portion of the guests are kids.

Fewer yet are girls.

The parents of the girls at the Gardner Hut had all made their individual decisions on how much time their kids will spend shopping malls, riding chairlifts, watching television, practicing music and playing organized ball sports.

But for a portion of their winter, they carve time to be with their kids on cross country skis.

These girls, at least for now, have found pleasure in skiing the hard way. The rewards are as delicious as hand-cranked ice cream.

In four days, they learned to hang their hats and mittens in one spot where they could dry and be found. They may have forgotten this bit of discipline the moment they walked back into their homes, but the world now knows they can do it if they must.

On the second night, they sounded like a small Mardi Gras as they skied in small groups searching for clues in a scavenger hunt through the dark forest.

Togetherness came easily by this time.

They had happily squished together at the dinner table, where spills were considered to be somebody’s second helping.

They even went to the outhouse as a group, sometimes assisting with moral support and clothing exchanges in quarters too tight to change their minds.

The biggest challenge, however, was left for last.

While the freight haul was welcomed to carry the food and extra water into the Gardner Hut, the girls were in on the plan to carry all the remaining gear back to the trailhead on their backs.

As they packed and ate the last of the food to lighten the loads, the freight hauler stopped by the Gardner Hut. He had no load going out, and, as a courtesy, he offered to take out the gear for free.

Chatter at the lunch table subsided for a moment.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” came the reply without a dissenting word.

Indeed some of the girls raced out to buckle into their packs even as others were doing the finishing touches on sweeping the cabin.

No one groaned as the weight settled on hips and shoulders. They shot down the trail like wild hares.

Later, Julia, Mayme, Erika, Ramsey, Martha, Danielle and Hillary paused a moment to regroup before plunging with their bulky packs into the fast downhill section of the trails.

Chelsea caught up and said, “This is the tiredest my legs have ever been.”

Asked if she wanted someone to take a little of her load, she confidently said, “No thanks, I’m fine.”

And she was.

This sidebar appeared with the story: CONTACT Methow trails

For information on backcountry huts and other skiing and trail-related activities and accommodations, call Methow Valley Central Reservations, (800) 422-3048 or check the Internet at 222.methow.com/huts