The sled is piercing into my hips. I’m six and a half miles into Utah’s High Uintas Wilderness heading toward Boundary Creek Yurt, and from my waist, I’m pulling 40-pounds of supplies. It is rhythmic and almost monotonous…and painful. Why did we bring so many beers? I glance up at the High Uintas cloaked in snow. A light wind dusts powder off the peaks, and I gaze farther into the distance. Oh yeah…that’s why. I’m not drinking tea after we shred those stashes.