Water works wonders

I believe that water is an incredible substance. I've felt this way for years. Water Works Wonders (trademarked) sums up my feelings more concisely and accurately than anything I've come up with. It took a recreational boating industry group (or probably their marketing department) to sum things up so succinctly. Contrary to my more innocent beliefs, their motivation is to sell more Bayliners (also trademarked). I'll borrow the phrase anyway.

Water brews our coffee, brews our beer, brews our cares away in the hot tub. Water greens our lawns, cleans our cars, lubricates our slip-n-slides. The sound of the ocean surf takes us away, while the sound of a cascading stream muffles the noises of progress all around us bringing us back into ourselves. And the sight of vast lakes and oceans inspires us to ponder larger ideas and consider broader goals.

Webb Mountain overlooking the Lake Koocanusa Bridge (note the white Forest Service Fire Lookout atop the mountain).

When you are hiking up Webb Mountain in western Montana with a full pack on your back in 90-degree heat the presence or absence of water takes on a whole new meaning. We started up our three-and-a-half mile, 3,600 vertical foot climb with only four liters of water – all that we had containers for. The mountain didn't care. We started sweating in the first few hundred feet. We took regular breaks. We felt the heat reflecting off the barkless standing dead trees, remnants from a previous fire. Felt the heat reflecting off the bare rock outcrops teasing us with views of Lake Koocanusa below.

View from ~2 miles up Webb Mountain looking down on Lake Koocanusa.

Our thoughts turned to water shortly after we began the climb. How much water would we need on the way up the mountain? How many breaks should we take? We exhaled moisture with each breath. Each drop of sweat begged for replacement. A break would allow us to cool down, to control our breathing, to save that precious fluid. Yet each break also meant opening a water bottle, making a conscious effort to only sip, not gulp the bottle down as our bodies requested.

What do you do when you're sitting next to your hiking partner? Do you carefully monitor each person's intake? Do you offer to share knowing you'd rather hoard it for yourself? What if your partner is also your wife? Do you have some moral obligation to give her an equal amount of water (or more)? Who would know? Did I really just think that? Am I thinking clearly? Am I already dehydrated? Should I not have caught those drips of salty sweat falling from my nose? Did they contribute to my delirium? Am I still sweating? Why is she staring at me? How long have I been sitting here holding my bottle out for her but not actually letting it go? Is this what true thirst is really like? Because right now I'd do almost anything for more water. I'd carry extra weight. I'd pay major league baseball stadium prices for a bottle of water. I'd sit through Dumb and Dumber - no, strike that. I'd sit through Dumb and DumberER on loop for a glass of ice water. How far are we from the top?

But wait. The top doesn't matter. Once we summit Webb Mountain we'll still have 2.5 miles before we reach a water source. How much water do two adults carrying full packs need for a 2.5 mile hike in 90-degree heat? One liter? Two? Four? Are we already behind? Is it better to be mostly dehydrated the whole time or should we hydrate our bodies now knowing we'll be even more dehydrated later? Do I dare unscrew the top of my bottle? Will I really only sip...

There isn't really any drama here. You know how it turns out. We both made it to water or you wouldn't be reading this right now. But we both learned a lot about our own physical limits that day. We experienced a single day without adequate water and developed a new appreciation for it.

Callae happily filtering water in an old clearcut atop Thirsty Mountain (just West of Webb).

I encourage you to fully appreciate the wonderful liquid that is water the next time you go to the tap to brew your morning coffee, or release that chilled stream of refreshment from the alcove in the door of your refrigerator, or step into a hot shower after a long day.

Water really does work wonders.