The Story of Bob and Noah

Since meeting, Josh and I have made it a point to take our horses into the Bob Marhshall wilderness every summer, exploring areas we hadn’t. We try and always pick a trailhead we haven’t been in and some new area in the wilderness not previously explored. If you don’t know about the Bob Marshall Wilderness you can check it out here.

In July 2022, we decided to take a seven day horse packing trip with Noah (11 Months old) into the Bob Marshall wilderness. I think we were determined to continue living a life as normally as we had before we had Noah. I know our parents were pretty nervous about our endeavour, but overall, we felt confident we could pull this trip off. We camped the night before our “launch” date with some friends and family who were going to run our car up to the takeout spot. In the morning there was a buzzing, an energy, and anxiousness. When everything was ready to go our friends snapped a picture of us as we were about to head out and I remember feeling so nervous about launching this (in my mind) huge expedition. I thought, are we doing the right thing? Is this stupid? What if some thing goes wrong? Then I went into a spiral reviewing EVERYTHING we had brought to make sure we had enough and make sure we had the emergency gear. As soon as we took off, I was immediately settled in and felt calm. I knew it was the right thing to do to take our son on this fantastical adventure. Being in the wilderness is the most connected to earth and the least connected to society you’ll ever be. I knew this trip would be tough but would bring peace to our family. I know Noah wasn’t going to remember the trip, but we certainly were. I also recognised this trip represented more than a seven day backpacking trip. It represented us overcoming Down Syndrome. It represented us being a family. It represented us experiencing nature with children. It represented us choosing to prioritise outdoor excursions as a family.

After about ten minutes on the first day, Noah fell asleep in the pack until lunch and that was pretty much his routine for the following seven days. We would wake up and have breakfast, our Noah in the pack, and let him fall asleep. He would wake up around lunchtime. We’d get out for an hour to play around some water, eat some food and take a break. After lunch was done we would put him back in the pack and he would fall asleep again until we got to camp. There were a couple days that he stayed awake and was very curious about where we were. He loved tilting his head back as far as he could to watch the contrast of the tree leaves passing by, feeling the dark and light hit his face. I tried making him some some nature mobiles with pinecones and leaves, but he immediately chucked those out of his pack. He loved grabbing our hair in the pack, which made for some frustrating hikes. He basically laughed and slept his way through the Bob Marshall.

I wish I would’ve had this blog when we actually took the trip so that I could remember some of the harder things that happened. I’m sure there were quite a few of them. But right now, reminiscing on it, I only have romantic remembrance of the trip. Oh, I do remember Noah waking up at 4 AM for the first four days. We were very confused about why he had been waking up since he had been sleeping for 12 hours previously. It hit us suddenly that Noah had really only been breast-feeding before the trip and that he was probably wanting real food. On the fifth day when we started feeding him food, he slept in again. Killer idea. Poor little guy. Definitely worked the kinks out on the first child… We definitely had to be thoughtful about diapers. We packed five per day and crossed our fingers things didn’t get weird. We also had to then carry around a garbage bag of dirty diapers. Is this fun? No, not really, but it’s necessary to get your kids in the backcountry. We have also experimented with 5-gallon buckets and lids. Always open to more suggestions to solving/making the diaper conundrum easier.

We only had one major incident while stopped for lunch one day. One of the horses got spooked by something and jumped over a ditch, fell on his front legs and then got up again. When he stood up again, his pack had gotten backwards and that freaked him out so he attempted to kick the pack off and boy did he succeed. When he did, he split a cast-iron pan into several bits. Josh and I were both astonished! The pack was ripped up a little bit and the cast-iron was broken, but really in the grand scheme of how bad it could’ve been we were very thankful it wasn’t worse. We sat on the side of the trail with a sewing kit and a rivet kit and repaired the pack. Ladies, get yourself a man that can sew. It’s hot hot hot, and surprisingly manly. For the remaining nights, we use pieces of cast-iron to cook. It was kind of fun, laughing about it over the next couple dinners and breakfasts trying to cook eggs on a cracked piece of cast-iron. I tried to submit a warranty claim through lodge and they laughed at me. Apparently cast irons can break, they just don’t usually.

It’s nice to get into a routine in the backcountry. People get intimidated to take their kids out of the daily routine at home and think that you can’t build a routine elsewhere. That’s not true. It may look a little bit different, but we definitely developed a routine for the seven days that we were in the backcountry together. It was honestly just so fun having a little partner around. It felt like we had a secret that we were sharing with him, showing him this great wilderness that we have both become obsessed with.

Its also so cozy and fun to be in the tent together. Yeah, you may get less sleep and your sleep may be disrupted. But there’s such a warm feeling that washes over you waking up and seeing your baby bundled up in some down, (clothing not syndrome) eyes closed mouth, wide open with drool. There’s something so rewarding at the end of the day knowing that they’re tiredness came from playing outside. They’re tiredness came from taking in new sides and smells and sounds. Their tiredness came from laughing and exploring.

Noah didn’t ride the horses at all. He traveled in the pack and Josh and I switched carrying him versus riding the horses. We took three horses, one for riding and two for packing our gear. Most of the trail that we picked was on the continental divide Trail, which a bunch of hikers do every year. It was fun to have people cheering us on as well trekked. We also carried some beer and gave it out to the hikers on the CDT. Between Noah and the beer we became prettttttty popular.

Throughout the trip, I learned to trust myself, trust Josh, and trust our family. I learned to lean into what we know we need. Know when to not push the limits. Know when to push the limits. I learned to listen to my kid better. We learned to get creative and keep things fun. We learned to improvise. I kept learning to be selfless. Parenting is a lot about finding yourself as well as helping your kids discover who they are. It’s been spectacular to watch a love of nature become a core part of who Noah is. I didn’t know how it would go with him having Down Syndrome, but we have still been able to instil a passion for being outside and getting after it. It’s been inspiring to see how resilient kids are and how much they don’t need material items but need love, support and experience. Every time he sees his backpack Noah gets excited and starts slapping the backpack to get in. Little Pavlov’s dog.

I love being able to travel and have adventures outdoors with my kids. I’m just aiming to be the mom never got to have (without too much pressure on myself). I often think/daydream about what it would be like to have experience these things with my mom. I am optimistic my kids will get to reminisce about these adventures with me. One of my desires is that they are thankful for the exposure one day. Thankful to grow up in a beautiful place and thankful they had parents who were willing to push the limit sometimes. I hope by exposing them to vast landscapes and sweeping skies that it somehow gets ingrained in their core. A piece of something that they can’t live without. A piece of something that makes them feel whole and free and connected.