My head hits the pillow, and I'm sobbing.

My head hits the pillow, and I'm sobbing.

I just want to go Home, Father. I just want to wake up and be Home. I don't even know where or what that is, but I want to be Home.

I'm 30 years old, and I'm crying myself to sleep in Maseru, Lesotho. (For the record, when I write, I write what I feel. What gets posted on this blog is a question of quality, not whether or not it makes me look any certain way.)

I don't have a friend on the entire fucking continent, Father. I haven't known anyone here for even two weeks, I have no one to talk to that has any background or context for anything I'd say, any reference I'd make, any idioms or mannerisms. There's no one here I can trust to see Me.

I'm a broken person. I don't really try to hide it, and I'm not good at acting anyways.

I want off this ride. I don't want to be a missionary, I want to be the guy with the wife, the kids, the dog, the warm bed in a cozy house, the front lawn I'll bitch about mowing. Send somebody else, I just don't want to do this anymore.

It wasn't my thought that came next, it was a line of Scripture. "Foxes have holes, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." I think it's from Matthew. One of the Gospels, memorization isn't my strong suit, never has been.

The book of Hebrews, says that Christ was tempted in every way that we are tempted. That was the next thing through my head.

Every. Way.

The Son of the Almighty God, tempted in Every. Way. I've ever been, and ever will be, tempted.

I can barely, barely comprehend it. The text is simple enough, of course, it's just that the reality...

Jesus Christ, the Son of God, The Word become Flesh...was at some point so down that he was tempted with suicide, like I was two years ago? (TWO YEARS AGO, NOT NOW, DO NOT CALL THE COPS ON ME (AGAIN))

Jesus at some point felt so alone, so broken, that He just wanted to set His cross down and be a normal person, forsaking whatever good He knew God would work out of His obedience?

Every way? Jesus was tempted to take over the family carpentry business, instead of being about His Father's work? He was tempted to settle down with a wife and kids, to live a calm, quiet life where He would be left alone, instead of preaching to thousands of people?

Every way? Does that really mean Jesus at times just wanted to sit down, get a loving hug from somebody that knew Him, and let the world handle its own problems? To quit and be a normal guy?

I mean yeah, there's that bit in the Garden, where He asked the Father to take the cup from him, but I mean that's always kinda brushed over. Jesus wasn't actually discouraged, He couldn't have been. He was perfect, we're broken, so He didn't get discouraged.

Because right now, I'm in Maseru. There are dried tears on my cheeks, and I just want to go home. I want to go home tomorrow, to find a nice girl, settle down and not leave town except for leisurely vacations. No more Calling into missions, no more food poisoning from third-world restaurants, no more being unable to sleep because hard beds aggravate my bad shoulder, no more being lonely and alone, no more looking ahead to being broke, homeless, and unemployed the day I get back.

It's tempting. The Bible says Christ was tempted in every way I am. So I'm not alone, and if I struggle with this, so did He.  Christ was where I am, calling out to the Father in tears, asking for another way. And when the Father said "No", Christ obeyed.

I'm not perfect, but I have been as obedient to the calling I've received as I could be. I'm in Maseru, where I was sent, I'm doing the job I was sent to do (well, the food poisoning bit notwithstanding), and I haven't let things like "I would rather not be doing this with my life" stop me.

Maybe I'm not as broken as I think I am. Maybe I'm just human, and struggling with temptation.

Maybe, just maybe, Christ struggled with the temptation to lose hope, to say "Even with God's help, I can't do this, I'm too pathetic, too weak, too alone, too broken."

It does say "every" in that verse.

What do I want to do in life?

Sometimes, the easiest questions to ask are the ones with the most complicated answers, and of all of life's questions, "What do I want to do in life?" is probably the simplest question a person can ask, and yet it generally takes a lifetime to truly figure the answer out.

Of course, for Christians, there's the nickel answer "I want to serve God", that if true, simply begs the second question "How?". Serving God isn't an 8-5 gig, it's a lifestyle, and it's definitely not limited to any one thing. Many people spend their lives serving God, and quite faithfully, yet never go overseas and do missions work, nor do they ever stand in front of a church and preach.

Besides, being a philosopher (especially one that has a blog), I *hate* nickel answers. They're boring, and intellectually speaking, they're a cop-out. Nickel answers are given when people don't want to give the real answer, and are trying to dodge the question.

What do I want to do in life?

I suppose the question requires looking back in life to when I was a child. What did I want then, and what of those things still applies?

I never wanted to be President, and I stopped wanting to be a fireman when I realized that 90% of their calls are for car wrecks, not burning houses. Studying dinosaurs isn't nearly as cool as Jurassic Park makes it seem, and astronauts don't go to other planets, so those faded. Being a pilot was my first dream anyways, long before the others.

I've wanted to be a pilot since I knew what an airplane was. There was never a time that I can recall that I didn't want to be a pilot, I fondly remember playing flight simulators when I was six, turning paper airplanes into a science when I was 7. Anything that resembled flying, I was into.

Of course, the FAA won't let me get a private pilot's license because I'm bipolar. So...childhood dream, meet the US Government. Wave goodbye, childhood dream.

Granted, I'm an aircraft mechanic instead, and I love it. I don't think I've ever had a job that I've been more passionate about than I am about fixing airplanes. It still stings on occasion (read: most days, but not every day) that I'm not allowed to have the chance to be a pilot, but I still love fixing planes. It's better than working on cars, anyways, if for no other reason that airplanes are frikkin' cool, and always will be.

What do I want to do in life?

The other thing I've always wanted in some fashion was a family. There was of course that period when I was a kid when I didn't really know what to do with the strange and beautiful creatures called "girls", but I still knew that at some point, I needed to get one and start a family. The older I get, the stranger and more beautiful girls are, and I still want to get one and start a family.

But I'm 30 now, and that hasn't happened. Gotta find a nice girl to start a family with, and while I've met a lot of nice girls, it seems like half of them don't want kids these days. Three-quarters of the remainder simply aren't worth marrying. The rest got picked up years ago, it seems. It seems, of course, just means that's my perception, obviously there are still worthwhile, marriageable ladies out there that want kids, I just haven't met any.

What do I want to do in life?

Neither of my dreams are reality, neither of them seem likely to become reality any time soon, so I'm back to square one, with that same question.

What do I want to do in life?

Most days I just want to serve God. It's back to that nickel answer, and I hate it, but I don't know what else to say. I never really had any other dreams, and neither of them are reality. I'm surrounded by airplanes I'm not allowed to fly, and never will be, and I keep meeting families with kids, but while kids are fun, they're not my kids.

I feel like I'm being ripped in half most days. I'm surrounded by the two things I want most, but they're not for me.

People, being hypocrites, keep throwing this dilemma back in my face with a "you just need to trust God more." Because apparently, trusting God enough to drop my own plans to go into missions (I really wanted to be a gunsmith, and was a few months away from applying for a patent on a rifle design) nearly four years ago wasn't actually trust, neither is sacrificing everything that got in the way of that, and neither is getting on a plane to fly to Africa (and Haiti, for that matter) and actually going into the mission field. None of that is trust because if it was actually trust, I wouldn't be struggling.

Honestly, I'm quite sorry that I ever spent so many years hoping that someday, somehow, I'd end up a pilot or a father. Shattered dreams suck, and I'm living with two of them. False hope is poison to the soul, and every time I meet a nice girl, only for it to fall apart, it gets harder and harder to not drown in bitterness. Every time I hear pilots bitch about having to fly somewhere, I want to scream.

What do I want to do in life?

I don't know anymore. I'm am aircraft mechanic, I like being a missionary, but putting those two together means I will spend the rest of my career surrounded by pilots with families, and that's a miserable thought. I could console myself with dreams that some day I'll meet a nice girl and start a family, but that's what I've been doing for most of my life, and obviously that hasn't worked yet.

What do I want to do in life?

I don't know. The thing I want to do most in life, serve God as a missions mechanic is also the option that promises the most unhappiness.

What do I want to do in life?

To serve God and be happy.

I have no clue how to go about that. I hate the idea of doing what I truthfully want to do most in life. I hate that I look forward to missions and see valuable, rewarding work keeping the birds in the air, yet at the same time I see that it doesn't come close to resembling happiness. It means being "Uncle Soren" but not "Dad", and spending a lifetime trying not to be bitter when pilots complain.

What do I want to do in life?

Keep moving forward, because in spite of the misery, despair, loneliness, and bitterness, I still trust God more than I trust anything else, even my own emotions. Besides, if there's anything I know in life, it's that meaningful misery is better than the pointless bliss most of the world seems to be chasing. If nothing else, some day I will die, the misery will end, and I will go to Heaven, where God will wipe away all the tears from my eyes, and there will be no more death, nor crying, nor sorrow, nor any more pain, for the former things will have passed away.

What do I want to do in life?

Fight the good fight, finish the race, and keep the faith. Between now and then, there are things I would absolutely love to do, and have spent my life hoping that God would allow me to do, but the only thing that really matters is to keep the faith and keep moving forward. The Bible never promised me happiness, but it does promise an unbeatable retirement package. While it's not all of what I want in life, that's certainly more than enough.

Benefits of Classless Education

One of the side benefits of having seen a lot of action movies is that I've got a wealth of one-line quotes memorized. I don't know what it is about action movies that requires the hero and/or the supporting characters to have one-liners for every situation, but it's an old tradition, and I like it.

For this quote, the heroine (a law enforcement commando-type) has just shot her way out of a drug bust gone wrong, and she's smoking a cigarette on a dock, waiting for the rest of the department to clean up the mess. Her boss sits down next to her, and after a short back-and-forth, says "You're so full of piss and vinegar that if you keep going the way you're going, you run the risk of becoming one seriously fucked-up individual."

The line has stuck with me ever since I first saw the movie. It's a good line. She's the type that responds to every challenge with an even higher level of intensity, even the ones that should be solved with smooth words and diplomacy. So while she's very good at shooting her way out of drug busts gone bad, she's slowly becoming a very, very damaged individual, and eventually she'll be dangerous to everyone around her.

That quote might as well have been delivered to me.

It's been nearly four years since God tapped me on the shoulder and directed me into missions. I still think it's a good career path for me, I've never really been one to chase satisfaction in the form of a big paycheck, but I realize now that I've been going about it the wrong way.

When I first told my family about it, they said I'd fail to make it through school. I've never asked why they said that, it hurt too much at the time to consider their warnings rationally, so I just upped my intensity and kept going forward. My pastor said the same thing, but instead of asking why, I responded by being more intense, and running at higher speeds.

By the time I got to that school, I had a pretty massive chip on my shoulder, and I was there to conquer my major, not simply study hard. I was going to do everything really, really hard, because nobody was going to make me quit. While this had benefits (I had every single assignment done 24 hours before the due date except for a group project), it also had some predictable and bad results, and in the end I cracked and ended up in the hospital on suicide watch.

That definitely served as a wakeup call, but at the time I didn't realize all of the problem. Granted, I'll never try being unmedicated again, but what I really should have learned was to slow down and not be so intense all the time. But I didn't, and I kept charging forward towards being a missionary.

Granted, that was the right move, but it's not just about having a list of credentials, it's about having a certain personality. One has to be able to deal with any situation that comes up, and in the appropriate manner. Some situations require delicacy, some intensity, and others probably other things.

I've pretty much only had one response to any challenge that's come up in the last decade: Intensity. While this really helps when the challenge is a construction job in Haiti, it's really, really unhelpful when the challenge is waiting for several weeks to finally be assigned to a program for my internship.

I am not good at waiting, nor am I good with uncertainty, because neither of those can be dealt with by simply working harder, which is the only way I ever do anything, but being a missionary in third-world countries is going to require a LOT of waiting and dealing with a LOT of uncertainty. That isn't going to change, so I need to if I want to have a chance in this field.

Operation Chill Out is going to be tough. I have literally no idea how to chill out, it's not something I ever try to do. I can be calm, but I'm always in motion, either mentally or physically. I tend to stop only when I'm exhausted, not when I'm relaxed. I have no idea how to relax, I never really saw the point. Why would anyone want to relax when they could be getting things done?

But if I keep going the way I'm going, I'm going to end up a seriously fucked-up individual, and I realize that now. Time to make changes.

Truth, and variations thereof

I'm going to talk about Truth for a bit. It seems that the concept has gotten a bid muddled lately, so I want to explain some things. I figure I'll start with the dictionary definition of "True":

True[troo]adjective
1.
being in accordance with the actual state or conditions; conforming to reality or fact; not false: a true story.

Philosophically speaking, there are three kinds of "Truth" with which we are concerned: Absolute Truth, Relative Truth, and Subjective Truth. Absolute Truth is truth that is always true. Relative Truths are things that are true for you, but not true for me. Subjective Truths are things that are always true, but mean different things to different people.

It sounds confusing, right?

Yeah, it confuses me too sometimes. I'll use a an analogy to try to break it down. Imagine, if you will, a garage door. Garage doors roll up and down, and well, you know what a garage door is. Open the garage door you're thinking about to halfway.

Now, what's true about our theoretical door? Well, Objectively, it's there, it's not closed, and it's open to about six feet from the ground. Those could be defined as Absolute Statements

Subjectively, things get interesting. Six feet might be enough for you to walk under, but if I try to walk out, I'm gonna smash my nose on it. So while it's objectively true that the door is open, subjectively it means different things to different people. A short man will be able to walk out, I will have to duck.

Now, continuing our analogy, what would a Relative Truth be? Well, were I to say that walking out the door requires ducking, that's true for me, but false for a short man. It's an absolute statement to say that "all men must duck because I must duck", but it's false, because not all men must duck. 

The way to pick out Subjective Truth as opposed to Relativism is that Subjective Truths always refer back to an absolute, and are defined in relation to the subject. "The door is open six feet from the ground, a tall man must duck, while a short man does not."

Relativism doesn't define absolutes. It's not concerned with an absolute frame of reference, so instead of defining the precise height the door is opened, we'll just say that "it's open", and that "some folks have to duck."

You can see the effects of relativism everywhere in modern society. Instead of one man killing another always being wrong outside of a self-defense situation, just watch the news. People get killed, and suddenly it doesn't matter who attacked who, it's more important that one was poor and the other rich, or one was white and the other black.

The absolute statements, like "The law defines this act as justifiable homicide because it was self defense" get washed away, and suddenly it doesn't matter who swung first, because the relative issues, the ones that have no Absolute Truth to them are promoted as being important.

Things that are fundamentally required for the stability of society like law and order, right and wrong, and an accepted method of how things work are all being tossed aside because "muh feelings" trump "your rights." Society-wide, we are swimming in a putrid sea of Relativism, and it is going to drown us all. 

The Sales Pitch

So a while back, a friend on catastrophebook posted that "If you're Christian, you shouldn't be posting about how hard life is, about how you think it sucks, etc, because what will it make people who aren't Christian think?" Now, granted that's a really short paraphrase of what he had to say, but it boiled down to "We should make Christianity appealing to people, so they'll choose it."

This was like two months ago or something, but regardless, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It sounds so simple and true, on the face of it, so why am I bothered so relentlessly by it? It was a pretty convicting quote, do I bitch too much about my life, and all the things I struggle with?

Like all things theological, the best place to start is with the Bible itself. Matthew 10 has a lot to say about what's in store for Christians. So does Luke 14. They're...umm, they're not nice. We're going to be hated, hauled before the authorities, put on trial, face family troubles, and in a lot of ways, it's going to suck. Intensely. Paul had nothing resembling an easy life, neither did the rest of the Apostles.

So if we're just trying to say "If you choose Christ, your life will be easy!", we're still nowhere near correct as to what the Bible actually says. Yeah, life gets easy in a way, but just because the straight and narrow path is simpler doesn't mean that it's ever truly easy. The Christian life is a war against evil, both the evil in the world and the evil in us, and that war won't stop until we're dead.

But, that's not actually the issue I have with the post I saw two months ago.

See, what I've realized is that if we have to sell Christianity properly, then we've tacitly accepted that we're selling it based on how good it is compared to other options, not that it is the ONLY option.

I can't speak for other people, but I'm not a Christian because the benefits package is better than that of Islam. I'm not a Christian because it pays better than Hinduism, or because the girls are prettier than Mormonism. No, I'm a Christian because I believe it is true. I'm not a Muslim because I believe it to be false. Same with every other faith.

Every major faith in the world is mutually exclusive to all the others. One is true, the rest are false. A false religion is not "another option", it is a complete and total waste of everyone's time.

Because I believe Christianity is true, because I believe that Jesus Christ really did die for my sins, because I believe God exists, than to me it doesn't really matter what struggles I have or don't have in this world. It doesn't matter if I end up being Job #2, or if God decides to bless me with a beautiful wife and a dozen kids. It doesn't matter if I'm going to spend the rest of my life broke, of if I'll be wealthy.

None of that matters, because I didn't choose Christianity out of the crowd just because some dude pitched it just right and convinced me that I should give it a shot. I'm a Christian because I believe it to be true, and The Philosophical Requirements of an Extant Deity demand certain things.

So, then, what should we do?

Well, maybe we should START by acting like it's true, and not simply one option among many. Let's start tomorrow by living the most authentic, Christ-centered life we possibly can. Let's not hide our struggles, but instead say "Yes, I'm struggling mightily with X or Y or Z, but in Christ I will prevail."

I certainly don't mean this to brag, but a few people have said my life inspires them. I'm guessing they're not talking about the time I got thrown into a psych ward, or the times I've been homeless. I'm pretty sure they're not talking about being single and lonely, or struggling to cope with being manic-depressive.

What they might be talking about is that no matter how badly I get my ass kicked by life, God picks me up, dusts me off, and says "Well, I hope you learned something, my child. Now, try again, and stay close to Me." Because by this time, the things I've survived inspire me, so it figures that they might inspire others as well.

So my non-Christian friends, who also struggle mightily with life, what do I want them to see? I want them to see that I struggle, that I fail, that I come up short, because it's in those moments when God lifts me up out of the muck and mire, and redeems my failures. It's not my life that I want them to see, it's God working in it.

I can't talk to people about how God has beautifully, miraculously, and graciously worked in my life without discussing the times I have utterly fucked it up. Those are the moments I cherish, albeit after the fact, because I can now point to God and say "When I was at my lowest, when all my efforts brought ruin, when all hope was gone, God stepped in and turned everything around...again. I'm a moron, God is awesome!"

My goal in life is to bring Glory to God, not to make God sound like a better option than Thor. I talk about my weaknesses, my failures, and my utter lack of being able to handle my own life because, like Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:9, Christ's power is made perfect in our weakness, not our success, strengths, and triumphs.

Tested to Self-Destruction

One of the axioms I live by is that I'm "Tested to Self-Destruction since 1983". It's not a particularly theological phrase, but it's very, very central to how I life, so I figured I'd write about it.

In many types of engineering, planned buildings, cars, and other structures are modeled and then tested to destruction. Destructive testing allows the engineers to say "OK, we know for a fact that the bridge will fail when there are 600 tons on it, so we will set the max load at 450 tons and allow a 150 ton safety margin."

Not destructively testing the design would mean they could only estimate the design's max load, and would have no way of knowing what's actually safe, or even where the weakest part of the structure is. Computer modeling is nice, but nothing beats a full-scale test. Destructive testing allows the engineers to create stronger, safer bridges by identifying and fixing weak spots.

People are, I believe, similar in a way. Everyone has a breaking point, but most people (I believe) never try to find it, and certainly never by choice. Given the option between sitting on a couch or trying to find out exactly how far one can run, most people these days would choose to sit on the couch. However, someone who decides that before breakfast, they're going to walk outside and run until they simply can't run another step will learn something about themselves that they didn't know.

It might be that they've got bad running shoes, or it might be that they need to eat better. It might be that they thought they could run a mile and only ran a half-mile. Maybe they ran five. Pushing until they hit the absolute limit of their ability to run will not only show them their limit, it will make them stronger and show their weaknesses, and if they so desire, allow them to address those weakness.

I am diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I have certain mental weaknesses that have often limited my ability to handle life, but I refuse to play it safe and sit on the couch, either literally or metaphorically. So I take my meds as prescribed, then do everything I can to push the limits of what I can and can't handle. This has occasionally been destructive in my life.

I once went laser-tagging at the end of a 30-hour sleepless period, and messed up my hand bad enough that I couldn't use it well for a week, but despite that qualifying as destructive testing, I found out that the limit of how long I can stay up and be highly active was over 24 hours. 

The limit of how much depression I can handle without wanting to eat a bullet has also been pushed pretty far, and I've never attempted suicide. In 2011 I went through a depressive period so severe that I was barely functional (meaning I could barely feed myself, not "I could barely hold a job and go to school"), but I never wanted to kill myself, even though the idea was at times tempting.

I've also done purely-physical things to push my limits, with possibly-destructive results. I've done backpacking trips that were, by the end of the day's hike, a one-step-at-a-time affair, and I once did a 30-mile bicycle ride, so I know that if I need to, I could push my body pretty far. I've never found the absolute limit of my ability to carry a 50-lb ruck, some day I want to. Then a week later I'll walk further, just to push that limit.

The common thread in all of this is that it's generally me pushing me to work harder until I break down in one form or another. I won't for a second say that this is a safe and pleasant way to walk through life, but I have learned that the limit of how far I can push myself before I self-destruct is generally a ways further than I normally need to.

The result has always been that I get a little bit tougher. Every time muscles are exercised hard, they tear a bit, and the tears fill in with more muscle cells, growing stronger through damage. It's the same with everything else that gets pushed to the limit: Once the absolute limit is found, it can generally be pushed a little farther the next time one tries to find it. I know the limits of my depression, and how bad I can let it get before I need help. Same thing with mania.

There are things I cannot either physically or emotionally handle, and there always will be. Everyone has a breaking point, but one of the things I am sure of in this life is that if we are not afraid of occasionally breaking down, if we contintually strive to push our limits every time we come near them, then we will be tougher, stronger, smarter, and in every way more capable than if we sit on our couches in fear.

I've been tested to self-destruction since 1983, and I am better every year for it.

AAR: Black Lake, Idaho

The Plan:

Backpack from High Dive to Black Lake by the pictured route on 2 July, spend two days there camped at the mine, and return to High Dive on 5 July.

It was a pretty good plan.

The Reality:

We got off to a great start on 2 July, but accidentally went up the first draw, not the second. Thus, after roughly three hours of rucking uphill towards Black Lake (henceforth BL), we were greeted with the sight of Emerald Lake, not BL. This necessitated a ridgeline hike towards BL via Pyramid Peak, and a drop down a steep shale slope above the mine (East of Pyramid Peak) instead of the rock/grass/dirt slope that was to the west of Pyramid Peak. We left High Dive at roughly 1300, and arrived at BL at roughly 1800 (IIRC).

This was compounded by the lack of preparatory PT on the part of one of my party of three (Bravo). His failure to physically prepare for the trip not only slowed down the pace of the party (resulting in us being caught in a light rain), but led to him having increased trouble with the altitude change, and becoming physically ill.

Due to Bravo's illness, we left BL a day early on 4 July, backpacking from the BL mine where we were camped back out to High Dive via the BL road, which was passable on foot but not by car or truck. This went far faster, and it only took us 4-5 hours.

On the way out, we encountered several parties on 4-wheelers, who told us that there was barbecue and ice cream waiting for us at High Dive. Apparently, it is a local tradition to drive up the BL road on the 4th of July until snow is reached, then to barbecue and make home-made ice cream with the snow.

 Happy 4th of July!

What Went Wrong:

1. A lack of physical preparation for the hike. While everyone on the invite list had been told well in advance of the hike's length, altitude, and physical difficulty, we were still not fully prepared for the trip. Part of this is obviously due to the altitude change, I was living at ~650 feet before the trip, while the others were living at ~2200 feet, but in spite of that, we should have trained for the weight and distance of the actual hike better than we did.

2. We forgot hearing protection. Despite knowing in advance that we were going to be carrying and shooting guns the whole weekend, we forgot to bring earpro, and so we were basically stuck lugging heavy steel objects that none of us were entirely comfortable shooting, even after improvising earpro using spent casings and string.

The price of not being prepared.

Those work decently well, by the way.

3. In general, we overpacked or mispacked. While my food stock and ammo stock reflected the original plan of a 4-day hike (meaning food for 5 in case of injury or delay) full of shooting, I still noticed that I had duplicate items (bars of soap, knives). Bravo brought a 26-oz glass jar of peanut butter, while Alpha mentioned that he brought too much "snack" food. Additionally, my ground pad has outlived its usefulness, and is neither light nor especially pad-ish.

Dude, what? Why would you even bring that?

4. For sleep I utliized a "Ranger Taco" setup, meaning a poncho liner laced into a poncho, which is then snapped shut and entered fully clothed. This proved inadequate due to the wind off the snowpack, which had no trouble at all entering at either end of the taco.

The red mag was loaded with 77-grain Hornady BTHPs instead of M855s.

What Went Right:

1. Spirits remained relatively high for the entire trip, with nobody becoming grouchy or depressed despite heavy loads, long miles, and cold nights.

2. Nobody was injured, outside of minor scrapes, some blisters, and sunburns. Those don't count.

3. The cold nights aside, July is a much better time to visit Black Lake than August. The temperature at the lake was far more comfortable during the days, and there was nobody else around until the folks who came up for the 4th of July. This gave us free reign to build a fire, shoot guns, and generally just have fun without any worry than anyone else would be around to complain.

Lessons Learned:

1. Additional PT is required. My standard for PT marches a month before the trip was a 50-lb 5K ruck march in 45 minutes or less, which was entirely sufficient for the weight, but lacking for the distance. I should have been doing 10K or 10-mile marches. This would also have highlighted several chafing points that were revealed during the trip, and caused pain that didn't need to be there.

2. While my basic load (2K calories per day, 100-oz Camelback, single set of layered clothing) was acceptable , I need to reexamine each individual item for weight, and take care to avoid duplicates. Furthermore, I need to swap in snack food for some of the full meals, I had no real opportunity to eat while moving, and that cost me energy I needed later in the hikes. Upping the calories carried would be nice if weight permits.

2A. For cost reasons, I need to experiment with cheaper meals. Just-add-water pastas are available from bulk food stores, with some fortification like beans and meat they could replace dehydrated meals, which are expensive. I could also get by with a much smaller cookpot than the 8-quart one I had.

3. My rifle is an acceptable choice for a hiking gun, but I need to see if I can swap in a lighter forearm without excessive expense. A tilt-capable bipod would also be nice, but other than those items, it's more than accurate enough for what I ask it to do, and it functioned fine lubricated with aircraft motor oil. 

4. A "Ranger Taco" alone is insufficient for severe cold weather, or mild winds blowing off a snowpack. On both nights, the cold wind hitting my neck and feet made it hard to sleep, and I was shivering. I need to find a way to upgrade the system for colder weather, probably meaning a regular sleeping bag stuffed inside. 

5. Popping a couple heavy-duty (but non-narcotic) painkillers before a hike will make it easier. Having the aches and pains dulled in advance really helps as the miles stack up.

6. Choose who to invite on backpacking trips carefully. While I would reinvite either of the friends that I brought this time, not everyone on the original invite list would have been, and the intense physicality of the trip would have meant a lot of grumpiness if anyone had started complaining. It's one thing to go on ahead, drop my pack, and come back to help out someone who's just not physically up to the trip, it's quite another to deal with someone who's decided to start bitching about everything.

 The view is always worth the work it takes to get there.