pages tagged hikingHiking and Codinghttp://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/Hiking and Codingikiwiki2012-12-09T18:38:28ZSierra (Part 3)http://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/sierras-03/2012-12-09T18:38:28Z2012-12-01T19:35:51Z
<p>The last post was getting a bit long, so I split it into two. When I
left off, I had just finished the last big mountain pass on the hike.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Yosemite</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
The Yosemite Valley is a truly amazing place. There are massively
high waterfalls all around, as well as giant stone walls. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Half_dome">Half Dome</a>
is like a giant rock that has been stuck in the earth and then split
down the middle. But there are roads to the Valley, and it is a
famous place to go. So it is full of people.
</p>
<p>
I hung out and set up camp with the new group that I was joining. I
had met all of them earlier in my hike, but I had done quite a bit
of hiking with Liz and Skinny D. So we caught up and I learned how
people were doing. Garby was now known as No-Knees due to a
glissading SNAFU where the snow rubbed the skin on his knees right
off. He had also crossed Evolution Creek at a place where the water
was up to his neck. Raven and Lovebird were ahead, but maybe
catchable.
</p>
<p>
The next day, Skinny D told us that she had gotten an offer of a
ride around the next few sections where the water was supposed to be
really high. We tried to talk her out of it, but she had pretty much
decided. It put a damper on my enjoyment of the rest of the day
because I quite liked having her around. We did our final bit of
shopping and took the bus back up to the trail.
</p>
<p>
We slept that evening essentially where the trail crosses the road.
We bade Skinny D goodbye and good luck the next day and then set off
toward the rivers that we had heard so much about.
</p>
<p>
The first was the Tuolumne River. We had to cross it twice, but
there were bridges. However, much of the bridges were underwater.
There was a huge waterfall followed by a pool that had so much water
in it that it looked like the ocean. It was a good sign that the
amount of water in this section was going to be dreadful.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LpbwuONXVi8/Tnv01Y2YRXI/AAAAAAAACrg/WyMTNs8ok9A/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LpbwuONXVi8/Tnv01Y2YRXI/AAAAAAAACrg/WyMTNs8ok9A/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
After that came Return Creek. Two experienced hikers had already
written a note to the PCT mailing list saying that they couldn't
make it past Return Creek, so we were ready to turn around there if
we needed to. When we got there, we found water three or four feet
deep that was moving like a waterfall. I knew that there was no way
that we would cross it there, so I started walking downstream.
About a mile away from the trail crossing, I found a place that
looked okay to cross. I got the group (along with Bert and Ernie,
who had shown up while I was scouting) and together we went to the
crossing. Bert and Ernie actually found a log jam a little way
past the crossing that I had found, so we took that. In the end, we
didn't even get our shoes wet in Return Creek.
</p>
<p>
We had to bushwhack back to the trail and when we got back, it
started raining. We walked a few miles more and then got to
Matterhorn Creek. The rain had filled the creek by the time we got
there, but we were wet anyway, so we tried to cross. That wasn't a
good idea. We looked for the shallowest part of the creek and all
got in together, forming a square. The idea was that we would move
across the creek by rotating. I started out as the upstream side of
the square. The current swept me right off my feet and we had to go
straight back to the bank. So in a sense, our scheme worked. We
tried to cross, found it impossible, and turned back in an orderly
manner. We camped on the side of the creek.
</p>
<p>
The next morning the creek was down by about a foot and we crossed
easily at the trail. We climbed Benson Pass and then descended to
Piute Creek. This was another wide, deep, and slow-moving creek.
It was also very near the lake that it flowed into, so it seemed
like we were walking through it forever.
</p>
<p>
After that, up and over another big hill. On the other side, we
entered Kerrick canyon. The map also claims that Kerrick canyon is
a difficult ford, and boy did it ever look true. The water was
raging beneath us as we traversed the snow-covered hill. I got out
my ice axe, thinking that if I slipped, sliding down into the water
below would be pretty bad. We finally got to the end of the canyon
and the terrain flattened out. The water was still moving fast and
we knew that we would need an alternate way to cross. We found a
tree that had fallen across the river. It was smaller than most
logs we had used to that point, and it still had nubs of branches
sticking up, which made walking across it harder, and it was also
partially submerged. In short, it wasn't great, but it was all we
had. Luckily, we all made it across without falling in.
</p>
<p>
A couple miles later was yet another ford. Deep and slow-moving, if
we had crossed at the trail, our feet would not have hit the
bottom. Instead of doing that, we went upstream a bit and found a
nice place that only went up to our bellies.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-e0QVIIQjExk/Tnv1CS5MCVI/AAAAAAAACro/ubdNt0mSxiw/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-e0QVIIQjExk/Tnv1CS5MCVI/AAAAAAAACro/ubdNt0mSxiw/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Next, we came to another ford at Falls Creek. It was starting to
get late in the day, so we hoped to get across it and make camp.
Unfortunately, it would have been another swimming situation, and
that just isn't my style. As we got closer to the creek, we knew we
were walking on the trail because we came to a bridge between the
creek and the lake that adjoins it. However, we had been walking
with water up to our knees for minutes! To warm up, we climbed out
of the water and onto floating ice. The whole thing was crazy.
</p>
<p>
After seeing the amount of water at the trail crossing, we decided
to go upstream the next morning. It worked out pretty well until we
got to a tributary. Maybe it would be more accurate to call it a
series of waterfalls all joined together in a giant maze. Crossing
it was like a video game. First we took a log about halfway. Then
up a little. Across the main channel behind a big rock. Then down
a little, followed by some rock-hopping to the other side. Finding
this sequence took about an hour (you obviously don't get the option
of restarting the video game if something goes wrong, so you want to
get it right on the first try), and by the end, we were so cold that
we had to sit in the sun for half an hour to warm ourselves.
</p>
<p>
Of course, we had just crossed the tributary. Another group had
caught up with us as we crossed the tributary, and because they
followed our route, they didn't spend as much time in the water, so
they went ahead to look for a way to cross Falls Creek as we warmed
up. Eventually, we saw an arrow in the snow that they had drawn and
found a nice section of the creek that was only about three feet
deep the whole way across. The bottom was slippery, but we made
it.
</p>
<p>
That was the last of the major fords. We still had wet feet for the
next few days, but it started to feel like regular hiking and not
some demented water park once again. A few miles after Falls Creek
was mile 1000. We posed for a nice picture.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-FOcA66H2IT4/Tnv1nALFnPI/AAAAAAAACr0/ZZqH4vISUk8/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-FOcA66H2IT4/Tnv1nALFnPI/AAAAAAAACr0/ZZqH4vISUk8/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
(From left to right: K-Bomb, Spice Rack, [someone whose name I
forget], me, Funyan, Liz, and Meow-Meow.)
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Sonora Pass to Tahoe</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
Liz's boyfriend's parents live near Sonora Pass, so our goal was to
get there the next day. In the morning, we climbed to a ridge, and
then the rest of the day (until the very end) was walking along that
ridge. I guess I was happy to get past the difficult fords, because
I took a lot of pictures.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mV0Q2KNaEek/Tnv1-lSwJAI/AAAAAAAACsE/pJcvBKb98v8/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mV0Q2KNaEek/Tnv1-lSwJAI/AAAAAAAACsE/pJcvBKb98v8/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
(Left to right: Liz, Meow-Meow, and Funyan)
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZbHNg5BKg_s/Tnv2ZwfUmRI/AAAAAAAACsM/Gkq6tEaSf64/s400/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZbHNg5BKg_s/Tnv2ZwfUmRI/AAAAAAAACsM/Gkq6tEaSf64/s400/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--9Ln1_SWIcU/Tnv2oNgU1RI/AAAAAAAACsU/jt39NgWiez4/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--9Ln1_SWIcU/Tnv2oNgU1RI/AAAAAAAACsU/jt39NgWiez4/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We glissaded down from the ridge, losing about 500 feet of elevation
in a matter of minutes, and then hitched down to town. We met up
with Liz's boyfriend, and I spent a comfy night on his parents'
couch after the usual shower-shop-eat cycle.
</p>
<p>
We spent most of the next day in town as well, and went up to the
pass only in time to make camp right at the road. The next morning,
we went over ten thousand feet for the last time. The snow was
starting to diminish, and we were glad for every step on dirt. Our
mileage started increasing as well. We completed the 90 miles
between Sonora Pass and Echo Lake in four days. Once we were at
Echo Lake, Liz had some family in the area, and we stayed with
them. We went into the town of South Lake Tahoe, and finally got
rid of our bear canisters and ice axes.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Next Time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
I go out on my own again into Northern California.
</p>
</div>
</div>
Sierra (Part 2)http://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/sierras-02/2012-12-09T18:38:28Z2012-12-01T18:16:11Z
<p>After my <a href="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/./../../posts/hiking/sierras-01">jaunt in Oregon</a>, where I had only hiked 50 miles in about 10
days, I was eager to get back to the trail. My mom, sister, and I all
piled into a car in central Oregon and began a road trip back to
central California.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Mammoth and broken SPOT</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
Before we got back to the trail, we stopped in Mammoth. My SPOT
device (essentially a GPS beacon) had stopped working before I had
entered the Sierra, and I (but especially my mom) was eager for me
to get a replacement. The company graciously sent one to the post
office in Mammoth. When I got there, however, I was informed that
it had been sent back. In all the time that I had been hiking, this
is the one major black mark against the post office. In fact, I try
to come to the defense of the USPO as much as possible – the vast
majority of post offices in the rural US are extremely well run and
many serve as hubs of their community. However, this time they let
me down. So I was going into the mountains again without my beacon.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Back into the mountains</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
I had left the trail at Independence, so that is where I went to
rejoin it. It's an amazing drive from the desert in the valley at
Independence to the alpine climate at the mountains. My mom and
sister were interested in the hiking I was doing, so they followed
me up until we got to snow, and then they turned back (and completed
their day with a baseball game in San Francisco).
</p>
<p>
I met a few people on the way up to the pass, and eventually caught
up with Sly. We went together over Kearsarge Pass and, despite the
light starting to fade, we went over Glen Pass as well. There was
rather fun log crossing between two lakes, and then Sly kind of took
off. He was certainly more acclimatized to the altitude than me and
the week that I took off probably didn't help me either. I found a
campsite and put my hammock up above some snow.
</p>
<p>
The next day I was not planning to go far, and at least that much
went as planned. Right from the start, I had to cross a creek.
Without the practice that I would later acquire, and all by myself,
I didn't really know what to do. I dilly-dallied around a bit,
changed into camp shoes, and finally did what I should have done in
the first place: just crossed. I was spending a lot of time looking
for the trail, but I could tell that I was going in the correct
general direction because there was a river that I was following
down hill.
</p>
<p>
Eventually, I came to a tributary and was stuck once again. The
tributary was mainly shallow, but had a main channel about three or
four feet wide that just seemed impassible. I went up and down it,
looking for a place to cross. I must have spent an hour looking for
a place where the main channel was a little shallower. Once again,
though, I simply crossed where the creek crossed the trail. The
water came up to my mid-thigh and I later learned that people had
fallen in this creek and lost poles and things. I was getting a
little freaked-out at this point, because I was on the wrong side of
a <b>roaring</b> river and the map didn't show any bridge. Also, I had
only gone a few miles and it was getting toward lunch time.
</p>
<p>
I continued on down the hill until I did come to a bridge. I was
extremely glad to see it, since it was just below the confluence of
two rivers that could hardly have been more full. I could really
see that water was going to be the problem this section. I had
lunch and then started up hill. There was a pass ahead, and I
was fairly sure that I wouldn't make it that evening, but I was
hoping to get as high as possible. I was still pretty tired,
though, and only made it a few more miles before camping on the side
of a hill.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">More passes and a new group</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
As I was cooking dinner sitting on the trail, a group of people came
by. I had been hoping to find some more people so that we could all
look out for each other in the rivers. I asked if they would be
okay with me tagging along and they said yes. They were going to
walk a bit farther that evening, so I would have to catch up with
them the next day. The cast of characters that I would be hanging
out with for the next couple of weeks would be Ninja, Drop-n-Roll,
K-bomb, and Roadrunner.
</p>
<p>
The next morning I got up early to try to catch up with them.
Pinchot pass was ahead, so that meant that I was both climbing
around 2000 feet in three miles and trying to catch up. I saw the
group as they went over the pass, but I must have still been a half
mile behind. Pinchot Pass was not too hard and before long I was
over it. However, I was still pretty far behind and trying to catch
up. At some point I lost the group's footprints and it was just me
and my map. There were a couple of creeks that were pretty scary at
the time, but turned out not to be too hard relatively speaking, but
eventually I came out of the forest and found the group sitting and
having lunch. We decided to go over Mather Pass that afternoon. I
had heard Mather referred to as "Mather-fucker" the day before, so I
was a little worried, but staying with the group that I had just
caught was the priority.
</p>
<p>
We climbed another 2000 feet to Mather. It didn't look too bad.
The most worrying aspect was that a few hundred feet below the pass
was a lake with thin ice, so a fall would make you really cold. The
trail officially went to the right around the lake, but there were
footprints in the snow going to the left, so we followed those. We
went straight up and eventually found ourselves on some rocks.
These were actually much worse than the snow since there wasn't a
real path on them. Ice axes also don't work on rock. While most of
the rest of the group found a high route, I took the lower route.
This allowed me to get back on the snow quicker, and I overtook them
on the way to the pass. At the pass itself, the snow was corniced,
meaning that wind had blown over the pass so it looked like a
cresting wave coming towards us. I heard that it actually
avalanched later in the season; I'm glad I wasn't there for that.
In all, Mather was probably my second-least favorite pass.
</p>
<p>
We descended from Mather toward the Palisade Lakes. We had hoped to
make it down to dry land, but the sun went down too quickly.
The rest of the group slept on a big rock, while I was able to find
two trees that had somehow gotten their roots through the rock.
They were probably the only two trees that I could have used for
hamocking for a couple of miles, so I felt pretty lucky to have a
comfortable place to sleep.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ie0aHkKJA6Q/TnvtZ71Z68I/AAAAAAAACoQ/quDZzRQygQs/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ie0aHkKJA6Q/TnvtZ71Z68I/AAAAAAAACoQ/quDZzRQygQs/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
The next day was quite long. We started by descending the so-called
"Golden Staircase". Without snow, it's a beautiful set of stone
steps next to a pretty creek. With snow, the steps are a bit harder
to navigate. We left the snow again at the bottom and walked along
Palisade Creek. At the bottom we got to 8000 feet of elevation.
Our destination was Muir Pass at 12000 feet. There's not much to
say about the rest of that day. It was beautiful but not
particularly challenging. The pass had an obvious route up which
was safe, and then at the top of the pass was Muir hut.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-yVIwT5uMZdw/TnvudNV4FXI/AAAAAAAACow/PydTUvYGMNU/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-yVIwT5uMZdw/TnvudNV4FXI/AAAAAAAACow/PydTUvYGMNU/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Muir hut is a stone structure built in the memory of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Muir">John Muir</a>.
It's officially for hikers stranded because of weather and not
supposed to be used for overnight stays, but the sun was going down
and there was nothing but soft (i.e. hard-to-walk-on) snow for miles, so we stayed there.
</p>
<p>
The next morning, the snow was firm again, so we made good time. We
were walking toward Evolution Creek, which the maps warn "can be a
difficult ford". When we got there, it was up above my
belly-button. It was quite cold, but it wasn't the raging cataracts
that I had seen the previous few days, so I just did it. The five
of us sat and ate lunch on the side of the river and dried our
clothes. As we were eating, we saw a deer swim across the creek.
</p>
<p>
After Evolution Creek, the next really interesting crossing was a
couple of days (and passes) later at Bear Creek. That did have both
very high water and very fast water. We really should have crossed
it as a group, but instead we chose to do it one at a time. At one
point my foot slipped and I put my hand down on the bottom, but I
was able to recover quickly enough that I didn't get swept away.
Ninja was the last to cross Bear Creek and had the most trouble.
The three guys (K-bomb, Roadrunner, and myself) got back in the
water and made a little phalanx so that she could be shielded at
least a little bit from the oncoming water. I was glad when we were
across.
</p>
<p>
We had been thinking about stopping in at Vermillion Valley Ranch
(VVR) the next day for some rest and supplies, but knew that it
would be expensive if we did. We were running out of food and
supplies and Mammoth was only a couple of days away. When we got
there, we decided that we could make it to Mammoth. Almost as soon
as we passed the cutoff trail for VVR, we ran into Mono Creek. We
would have to cross it three times. The first time, we found a
log. That's never really fun, but at least we stayed dry. The
following time, we were in up to our thighs. Our final crossing was
through what essentially a waterfall. The trail was well-made so
that the crossing was not too dangerous, but it sure was
impressive.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Geg2Al7vYmk/TnvwnH9Km8I/AAAAAAAACpo/p84NtjhB1zo/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Geg2Al7vYmk/TnvwnH9Km8I/AAAAAAAACpo/p84NtjhB1zo/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
The following day, I left lunch a bit earlier than the rest of the
group and got lost at least three times. It was getting dark by the
time I found their campsite. It rained that night and snowed the
next morning, but we were going to town, so we all felt pretty
good.
</p>
<p>
We got lost on the side of a hill and started going up and down
looking for the trail. A hiker from a different group finally found
us and even threw us all a mini Snickers bar as we made it to the
trail. We followed him all the way to the bus that took us Mammoth.
</p>
<p>
We spent two nights in Mammoth, even renting a cabin for the second
night. I had an infection, so I went to the hospital to get it
taken care of. Thankfully I had gotten insurance before leaving, so
it didn't completely bankrupt me.
</p>
<p>
When we hit the trail again, we were well-rested and had another
member of our group: Moccasin. He had been in Florida looking after
his father for around a month, so he was not acclimatized to the
altitude. Our first day back, we didn't go very far and he did
okay, but the second day he had real trouble. We ate lunch at the
top of Donohue Pass and his altitude sickness made him unable to eat
for about two hours. Eventually he told us to go on without him and
that he would catch up. We didn't want to, but we finally did. We
had crossed paths with another group (Liz, Skinny D, Meow-Meow, and
Funyan), which I would later join. They caught up with Moccasin and
would give us a hard time about leaving him alone, and they were
probably right. In any case, he made it down from the pass okay,
and we all made camp in Lyell Canyon. We were going into Yosemite
Valley the next day, excited about another taste of civilization
after so short a time.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-4">Next Time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4">
<p>
Yosemite, and even harder river crossings.
</p>
</div>
</div>
Sierras and a little Oregonhttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/sierras-01/2012-09-22T07:55:48Z2012-09-22T07:52:39Z
<p>I just got back from a few days in the mountains hiking with my mom
and sister, so I thought I would write a bit more of my rememberances
from last year.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Leaving Kennedy Meadows</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
After a couple of nights in Kennedy Meadows, I was ready to get back
on the trail. There was a group leaving a couple hours before I
would be ready, so I checked and made sure that they would be okay
with me tagging along. I really didn't want to do the mountains
alone.
</p>
<p>
Before long, I left and hiked five or ten miles before I caught the
group. The group consisted of Buffalo, Pyrite, Chinchilla,
Zombiefeet, Ryan, and Sue. The first day, we didn't see any snow,
but that would not last long. Our packs were much heavier than
usual, since we had bear canisters to keep our food safe, and ice
axes to keep our bodies safe.
</p>
<p>
We made our way into the mountains. The group was larger than I was
used to, and so we hiked a bit slower than I normally did. Getting
consensus that we would start hiking againg after breaks was
difficult. I started to get antsy. There were some upsides to the
size of the group, though. Pyrite knew how to use an ice axe and
gave us all a quick lesson. When we hit snow on the second day, we
were able to find our way relatively quickly.
</p>
<p>
On the second day, our group got even bigger, as we were joined by
the French Team, a husband and wife duo from – you guessed it --
France.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Snow</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
My attitude toward snow upon leaving Kennedy Meadows was that I
didn't think it would be much of a problem. After all, as a
Canadian, I walk on snow 4 or 5 months of the year. I hadn't
anticipated two things. First, it is nearly impossible to find the
trail when everything around is covered by snow, and second, a high
amount of snow means a high amount of snowmelt. The second
consideration would come later, but by our third day in the Sierra,
we were very glad that the French Team had a GPS.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L3fdCCRHUpY/TnvM2zbe8DI/AAAAAAAACe4/QhzidwV4CkY/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L3fdCCRHUpY/TnvM2zbe8DI/AAAAAAAACe4/QhzidwV4CkY/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Early on the fourth day, we came to Chicken Spring Lake. The maps
list it as a water source. This is what it looked like to us.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fklZyjFIKu0/TnvN_4Io-KI/AAAAAAAACfM/qrVE1Ax_Ppo/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-fklZyjFIKu0/TnvN_4Io-KI/AAAAAAAACfM/qrVE1Ax_Ppo/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We started to learn how to "boot-ski". On slopes that are steep
enough, you can let your shoes slip and then you start sliding down
the slope. As long as the slope isn't too steep, you can go for
quite a while and have a lot of fun. It also broke up the hiking a
little bit, which was becoming a bit of a trudge. The snow was
packed quite firm, but even the firmest snow is harder to walk on
than dirt.
</p>
<p>
By the end of our fifth day, we got to Crabtree Meadows. I had been
hoping to climb Mount Whitney (the highest mountain in the contintal
US), and to do so we would need to take a side-trail. However, I
had to balance that with my need to stay with a group. I was quite
liking the group that I was with, and one by one, they decided not
to attempt the climb. It was a hard decision, but I gave up on the
idea of climbing Whitney as part of my PCT hike. With the benefit
of hindsight, I am pretty sure that it was the right decision. The
miles ahead were among the hardest I had ever hiked and I was nearly
out of food. If I had needed to hurry, things could have gone
terribly wrong.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-zR62ys-lIO4/TnvViJKFRAI/AAAAAAAAChE/wrVruqk3YPw/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-zR62ys-lIO4/TnvViJKFRAI/AAAAAAAAChE/wrVruqk3YPw/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-hE5MMyNeKgY/TnvUwKAWtoI/AAAAAAAACg8/8aPSHGeP910/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-hE5MMyNeKgY/TnvUwKAWtoI/AAAAAAAACg8/8aPSHGeP910/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Passes</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
The next day was all about getting close to Forester Pass. The
consensus from hikers who had done the trail in previous years was
that it was best to do the passes in the morning, before the snow
got slushy. So we wanted to get close to the pass (the highest
point on the trail) in order to do that.
</p>
<p>
The hiking was starting to get spectacular. Everything was covered
in snow and there were giant mountains all around. We only made it
about 8 miles that day, but they were 8 hard-fought miles. Our
large group found the last cluster of trees with snowless patches to
camp in, and we ate a slightly early supper and turned in.
</p>
<p>
The weather was great the next morning, and we started out with
great moods. This picture of Pyrite and Chinchilla walking toward
Forester Pass is one of my favorites:
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-WncLk1Hvm0w/TnvalcifPSI/AAAAAAAACiY/vyyjVcOBK78/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-WncLk1Hvm0w/TnvalcifPSI/AAAAAAAACiY/vyyjVcOBK78/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Eventually we got to the real climb before the pass. Unfortunately,
I don't have any pictures that do it justice. It started off with a
few hundred feet of what seemed like climbing straight up. There
were steps in the snow that someone had made the day before, so I
used those. I also had my ice axe out just in case I slipped or the
snow gave way. At the top of the steps were some rocks. This was
the actual trail, with switchbacks. The rocks were icy because the
snow had melted the day before and frozen during the night. It was
not fun climbing up them, but once I was up I was glad to be on the
switchbacks.
</p>
<p>
The gladness didn't last very long. The switchbacks abruptly ended,
crossed by a chute of icy snow. It was even more vertical than the
steps we had just climbed, and as a bonus there were jagged rocks at
the bottom. Any slip would give you almost no chance of saving
yourself. To top it off, the snow was so hard and icy that the ice
axe wouldn't go in. There were steps carved across the chute, but
they seemed to have been carved by a giant. To say that I was
scared when I was crossing them would be a massive understatement.
It's not something that I want to do again. (It would have been
much less scary if we had crossed in the afternoon when the snow was
slushy, but that's something we didn't know at the time.)
</p>
<p>
Once I crossed the chute of death, it was just a few more
switchbacks on terra firma before I got to the top. I had to sit
down and hold my knees to get rid of the adrenaline that was
flowing. The rest of the group caught up about five minutes later,
and we celebrated being at the highest point of the hike.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mgfmDk7YQBQ/TnvcIuSwzeI/AAAAAAAACi8/QSmfhYen7hM/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mgfmDk7YQBQ/TnvcIuSwzeI/AAAAAAAACi8/QSmfhYen7hM/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-F44I2j86_rM/TnvdqJ33EuI/AAAAAAAACjU/TLloMjX0BNQ/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-F44I2j86_rM/TnvdqJ33EuI/AAAAAAAACjU/TLloMjX0BNQ/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We started our descent from the pass and very soon got to do our
first glissading. Glissading is a fancy word for sitting on your
bum and sliding. It's a ton of fun.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-XAlZSZ7ihOI/TnveTYNPvQI/AAAAAAAADYE/EsdF9RxtzB0/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-XAlZSZ7ihOI/TnveTYNPvQI/AAAAAAAADYE/EsdF9RxtzB0/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We descended more than 3000 feet and then started climbing again.
Our next day would take us into town, so we wanted to get as close
as possible. We camped near Bullfrog Lake, and because campsites
were so scarce, I camped quite a distance from the rest of the
group.
</p>
<p>
I awoke the next morning having decided that I was sick of the
snow. It was causing us to hike too slowly and get too tired. I
just wanted out. I started hiking without the group and got a
little off trail. I did, however, get a picture of this fellow, who
I think is a pine marten. He was quite curious about me.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-XKMvPHGFmbo/TnviJ59CFdI/AAAAAAAACkg/fc8nVttcjT0/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-XKMvPHGFmbo/TnviJ59CFdI/AAAAAAAACkg/fc8nVttcjT0/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I ended up a good distance above the trail and eventually saw the
rest of the group pass below me. It was somewhat embarassing to
climb down and catch up with them, but I was still glad to see
them. We got to Kearsarge Pass without much incident, but the snow
seemed treacherous again on the other side. We had to descend a
long way from the pass to get to the road, and it was after noon by
the time we got there. Eventually, we got a ride into the small
town of Independence.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-4">Off to Oregon</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4">
<p>
As I said, I had decided to get out of the snow. My strategy was to
get to Oregon, where my mom and sister would be vacationing and then
have them drive me back to Independence after a couple of weeks. I
was joined on this road trip by Zombiefeet and Ryan, who had planned
to end their hike at Independence and who needed to get to
Washington for a wedding.
</p>
<p>
Getting to Oregon was a bit difficult logistically. The first thing
we did was hitch up to Mammoth Lakes. It wasn't an easy hitch, but
eventually a BMW <img src="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/../../smileys/idea.png" alt="(!)" /> driven by a single lady <img src="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/../../smileys/idea.png" alt="(!)" /> pulled over and
gave all three of us <img src="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/../../smileys/idea.png" alt="(!)" /> a ride. It even turned out that we had
grown up in the same city, so we had something to talk about.
</p>
<p>
From Mammoth, we were able to rent a car. It's kind of strange
driving after a month and a half of walking, but nevertheless I
drove most of the way to Ashland, Oregon. I said my goodbyes to
Zombiefeet and Ryan, handed them the keys, and was on my own again.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-5" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-5">Oregon</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-5">
<p>
Out of Ashland, I was happy to be on snow-free trail once more.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OQzyBH7e-ck/TnvizEGvdhI/AAAAAAAACkw/d0t9-35bohU/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OQzyBH7e-ck/TnvizEGvdhI/AAAAAAAACkw/d0t9-35bohU/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I was cursing my luck the same day when I came to a large patch of
snow. It was easily crossed, though, and then the path was bare for
a while longer. The next day had a climb, and the higher I went,
the snowier it got. When I finally got to the top, it was as snowy
as it had been in California. I was on my own without a GPS and I
got lost. By this time, I was pretty used to the sensation of being
lost, and knew that as long as I went down the mountain in the
correct general direction I would be fine.
</p>
<p>
And that was the case. I slept on it, and found some snowmobile
paths the next day. I followed them to a larger road and came out
nearly on the trail. Later that day, I would come to so-called lava
fields. Obviously, this isn't the molten rock of the movies, but
it's the rocks that formed after cooling off. It's not too much fun
to walk on because the rocks are awkwardly sized and shift
constantly under your feet.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-r4xPytZ06xE/TnvmsNHmDCI/AAAAAAAACl0/7SjtldjLeZw/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-r4xPytZ06xE/TnvmsNHmDCI/AAAAAAAACl0/7SjtldjLeZw/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
As you can see from that picture, I was coming to another mountain
with plenty of snow. Since the whole point of coming to Oregon was
to get out of the snow, I didn't feel like going into it. I called
off my plan to keep hiking in Oregon and took a week off at my
grandparents' house with my mom and sister.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-6" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-6">Next Time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-6">
<p>
We drive back to Independence and I start hiking again. The rivers
become harder to cross and I get lost some more.
</p>
</div>
</div>
The End of Southern Californiahttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/socal-06/2012-07-09T00:22:07Z2012-07-09T00:22:07Z
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Tehachapi to Walker Pass</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
We left Tehachapi fairly late in the morning and both Garby and I
were tired, so we walked fairly slowly. It was already pretty late
by the time we got to the start of Section F. Section F starts with
a long climb, and I for one was really glad to get to the top. Once
we were at the top, the wind mostly stopped, which was another
relief. However, it was easy to see from the trees that the wind
blew at the top too:
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-GOpGag5worM/TnvDoAdKWpI/AAAAAAAACcQ/pHQm8vaQ-8Q/s144/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-GOpGag5worM/TnvDoAdKWpI/AAAAAAAACcQ/pHQm8vaQ-8Q/s144/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We didn't go much farther that day. We found a saddle out of the
wind and set up camp. There was a freak snowstorm the next
morning. It created an interesting juxtaposition: snow and cacti:
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--k6BlHg_nyo/TnvD3WY0ISI/AAAAAAAACcU/3Nn-7Unb5S8/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--k6BlHg_nyo/TnvD3WY0ISI/AAAAAAAACcU/3Nn-7Unb5S8/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
The snow only lasted long enough to make things cold and wet. Soon
enough, the heat was back. Unfortunately, I am somewhat blanking on
the exact places that I camped during this time. I seem to be
missing a day. Judging from the dates on my pictures, the snow day
was May 29. I forget where I camped that night.
</p>
<p>
The next day must have been more interesting though. The bulk of it
was spent on a rather tedious trudge across a desert-y landscape,
but toward the end of the day we had gained some elevation and found
ourselves amongst the Joshua Trees.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cdMF-02UuiM/TnvE9PZjg5I/AAAAAAAACcs/-SvpqRsgc5c/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cdMF-02UuiM/TnvE9PZjg5I/AAAAAAAACcs/-SvpqRsgc5c/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I sat and ate supper in the shade of a couple at around 4:00 and
then hiked in the dusk, when it got a little cooler. When I got to
my destination (Bird Spring Pass), there was a cache of cool water,
but only Joshua Trees on which to hang my hammock. It felt a little
wrong to do so, but it was actually a decent base.
</p>
<p>
The next day was one of my favorite kinds. It began with a nice
long climb, it was followed by a long mostly-flat section mostly in
the woods, and ended with a descent. At the end of the descent was
Walker Pass, which has a campground and had trail magic that day. I
got some pizza and drinks and waited for Garby, who I had hiked past
the previous day. When he caught up, I asked whether he wanted to
climb the next hill that evening or just stay at the campground. I
must admit that I was happy that he chose the latter.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Walker Pass to Kennedy Meadows</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
The following day also began with a climb, but was supposed to end
with a climb as well. Garby and I ate a longish lunch at a stream
near the base of the climb and we discussed where we would camp.
After lunch, I let him go ahead of me as I normally do, but when I
got to the place that I thought would be the campsite, I saw neither
hide nor hair of him. Thinking that I had perhaps misread the map,
I kept going. After an hour, I was sure that I had gone too far,
but there was no turning back at that point. I found a thicket of
brushy trees and hung my hammock for the night, hoping that Garby
wouldn't think that I had ditched him.
</p>
<p>
The mountains were pulling me in the next day. All my pictures from
the day are terrible because they are of the mountains in the
distance. (Except maybe this one, which is terrible only because
the snake is so unimpressive:)
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-hvn7qZuSeXQ/TnvHKZRTViI/AAAAAAAADnY/Hsn80JIVTrE/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-hvn7qZuSeXQ/TnvHKZRTViI/AAAAAAAADnY/Hsn80JIVTrE/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
It was a decent day of hiking. There was a burned area, which
wasn't so nice, but I also saw a huge golden eagle, and then walked
along the Kern river for a while, both of which were very nice. I
made it to Kennedy Meadows – mile 700 – by late afternoon.
</p>
<p>
Kennedy Meadows is the last stop for hikers before the big
mountains: The Sierra Nevada. I had known when I started my journey
that I would be getting there somewhat early, considering that 2011
had been one of the highest snow years on record. I knew that I
should take a few days and try to wait for it to melt. I ended up
taking one.
</p>
<p>
Garby, Lovebird, and Raven all showed up on my zero-day. Garby was
worryingly late – he had gotten sick again and was not able to keep
food down very well. In the end, he took a couple of weeks off from
the trail and came back feeling better and made quite a name for
himself in the Sierras. Kennedy Meadows was the last place that I
saw him on the trail. It turned out that we passed somewhat close
to each other a couple more times, but I found out later that he got
off the trail near the California/Oregon border with foot problems.
</p>
<p>
The highlight of my zero-day was going to an alpaca farm with the
rest of the gang. I purchased an alpaca hat there that I wore for
the rest of the trail (including some really cold nights in the
mountains, where I was extremely glad to have it). We hung out the
rest of the day and even watched the movie Old School projected onto
a big screen outdoors after it got dark. It was a great day.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Next time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
Into the mountains, and more snow than I thought possible. Hiking
with a large group. Defying death to get to the trail's highest
point.
</p>
</div>
</div>
California Section Ehttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/socal-05/2012-07-04T22:17:21Z2012-07-04T22:17:21Z
<p>After my zero at Hiker Heaven, I started on my way into the fifth
section of the trail, which is notable for containing about twenty
miles of actual desert. Before this, everything that had seemed like
a desert was actually chaparral. The map, usually shaded with green
and brown, was completely white. But I am getting ahead of myself.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Agua Dulce to the edge of the Mojave</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
It is customary for PCT hikers to leave Hiker Heaven and then hike
directly to the Anderson's, which is about 23 miles away. Having
just spent a very nice zero day at Hiker Heaven, I didn't feel any
need to do that. I was walking by myself and feeling good. I had
let Garby leave a little earlier than me, and knowing his speed, I
was fairly confident that he would be ahead of me all day. Some
days you just want to walk alone. I reached the road to the
Anderson's in the early afternoon and decided to keep going. Just
past the road, I found a dead horny toad and took a picture of it:
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8X3kmfL8y8E/Tnu9q5-AZKI/AAAAAAAACac/LeTdqQGpbpc/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8X3kmfL8y8E/Tnu9q5-AZKI/AAAAAAAACac/LeTdqQGpbpc/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I walked five or six more miles that evening before finding a nice
grove of trees with a small clearing inside for my hammock. There
was even a nice little stream nearby. I did not catch up to Garby
and was not sure if I would catch him again on the hike.
</p>
<p>
I was up early the next morning and walked about 100 yards when I
came upon Garby packing up his campsite. To me, it was a pretty
good indication that we were really good hiking partners. After
nearly thirty miles of hiking, we had independently decided to call
it a day within a distance that could be sprinted in 10 seconds.
</p>
<p>
We passed the 500-mile marker that afternoon (though it was quite a
distance past where the maps indicated that it should be).
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vo6fdjs5_uY/Tnu_b6GGilI/AAAAAAAACbA/ffFV4E3X-s4/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vo6fdjs5_uY/Tnu_b6GGilI/AAAAAAAACbA/ffFV4E3X-s4/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
The trail also became more wooded and shaded, which was nice because
the weather was pretty hot.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-r_5XUEmDZ3A/Tnu_sF5KHvI/AAAAAAAACbE/dUUMgHrHCsM/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-r_5XUEmDZ3A/Tnu_sF5KHvI/AAAAAAAACbE/dUUMgHrHCsM/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
And some of the trees had absolutely huge pine cones. They were
heavy too. I kicked one, thinking that it would have the same
papery weight that I am used to pine cones having, and nearly hurt
my foot.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZuTaogQEfio/Tnu_74fePGI/AAAAAAAACbI/_rAU6IqEAQg/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZuTaogQEfio/Tnu_74fePGI/AAAAAAAACbI/_rAU6IqEAQg/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Eventually, though, we descended from the forested ridge toward the
desert. A few miles before the desert actually starts, there is
some private property with no camping allowed. Garby and I decided
to camp as close to that property line as possible and to get an
early start the next morning.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">The Mojave</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
As we agreed, Garby and I got up at 3:30 in the morning and started
walking toward the desert. The moon was just past full, but it was
not quite bright enough that we did not need our headlamps. I had
night-hiked <a href="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/./../../posts/hiking/north-va">before</a>, and did not really like it. This time was a
little better, but I still stumbled more than I would have liked.
However, I knew that this was the best way to beat the heat of the
desert.
</p>
<p>
We got to the LA aqueduct just after daybreak. We filled our water
containers to their capacity there and then started walking in a
straight line. The trail follows the aqueduct (which is mostly
buried after your first encounter with it) across most of the
desert.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-o4F_F2AaOxY/TnvAnfsDv8I/AAAAAAAACbY/0pQAPGDwATs/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-o4F_F2AaOxY/TnvAnfsDv8I/AAAAAAAACbY/0pQAPGDwATs/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
It has a round top, which is slightly annoying to walk on, but it is
better than sand.
</p>
<p>
It's fairly hard to describe walking in the desert and make it seem
exciting. Nothing happens suddenly, like it can in the mountains.
It is all very gradual. Eventually you notice that it's gotten
really oppressively hot. Your water gets hot. You want to sit
down, but there's no point, because there's no shade anywhere. It'd
just be a waste of time. So you keep walking. Eventually we came
to a bridge that was about 2 feet off the ground, and I sat for
about ten minutes in the meager amount of shade that it offered.
</p>
<p>
Past the bridge, we walked on a road for a while. We probably saw
ten white trucks driving on the road, and no other vehicles.
Clearly, this was a place where the only practical conveyance was a
white truck.
</p>
<p>
It was only noon by the time we reached our destination. This was a
small stream with a bridge over it, a spigot with cool water, and a
small piece of corrugated tin on the other side of the bridge acting
as a generator of shade. We put down our mats and tried to get some
sleep. By this time, I was not feeling very well and did not eat
much for supper that afternoon.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Tehachapi Wind Farm and Sickness</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
The next morning, we were up at 2:30 and repeated our night-hiking
stunt from the morning before. As we walked up the hill out of the
desert, we hit an enormous head wind. So we were walking up hill
and into the wind – not a pleasant experience. On top of this, I
was still not feeling well, so this part of the hike does not stick
out as one of my favorite.
</p>
<p>
We got lost a couple of times in the dark. The trail follows an
ill-defined network of roads that aren't really roads, and it was
quite easy to get on the wrong one. Eventually we found a campsite
(with people still sleeping in it), so we knew we were on the right
path. It was also hard not to feel a little smug, knowing that we
had already walked about 10 miles and were passing people who were
not yet awake.
</p>
<p>
As we walked on, the wind was a near-constant annoyance. However,
we would see that it had a real use. We walked straight into one of
the largest wind farms in the world.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZYF-QpSOFXo/TnvCMkzT_AI/AAAAAAAACb4/Ur-o8Mh4KzY/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZYF-QpSOFXo/TnvCMkzT_AI/AAAAAAAACb4/Ur-o8Mh4KzY/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
By early afternoon, we had made it to a road, and I was beat. It
was not our destination, but the combination of not feeling well and
the early rising of the previous days killed my energy. Garby
caught up with me, and together we decided to hitch into town. We
needed to go to the post office, and as soon as that business was
taken care of, we got a hotel room and turned the air conditioner
on.
</p>
<p>
It turned out that Garby had caught whatever it was that I had. It
seemed like he still ate as much as usual, but he threw it up
shortly thereafter. I managed to moderate my eating so that I
wouldn't throw up, but it was easy to decide that we needed to
recuperate a little, so we took another zero.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-4">Leaving Tehachapi</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4">
<p>
The nice lady who had given us a ride from the post office to the
hotel had also given us her phone number and told us to call if we
needed anything. Neither of us felt like hitching out of town, so
we took her up on it. I think she was a bit surprised to hear from
us again, but she was game. On our way out of town, she took us
past a friend's farm where a bison had just given birth.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-fB3OXL1RI_k/TnvC0SftiCI/AAAAAAAACcA/NU7-CBFafo0/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-fB3OXL1RI_k/TnvC0SftiCI/AAAAAAAACcA/NU7-CBFafo0/s800/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
After plenty of ooh-ing and aah-ing, we got back to the trail and
started hiking again.
</p>
<p>
We walked through the remainder of the wind farm and across a
highway, and we left the section. Of all the hiking that I did,
that might have been my least favorite section. It was constantly
hot (though I actually got somewhat lucky with the weather – others
had it much hotter than I did), and both I and my hiking partner got
sick. The first two days weren't bad, but the last two certainly
made up for that.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-5" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-5">Next Time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-5">
<p>
I may combine the next section with half of the following one so
that I get to the start of the Sierras. I'm as excited to write
about my experience in the Sierras as I was to get to them.
</p>
</div>
</div>
California Section Dhttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/socal-04/2012-08-06T04:22:43Z2012-05-27T21:35:03Z
<p>Section C ended with a couple of rainy days before a night at a Best
Western at Cajon Pass. It was a restful night, and before long we
were on the trail again.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Cajon Pass to Wrightwood</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
Most passes on the trail are higher than the trail around them, but
Cajon Pass is the opposite. So we had another day of climbing ahead
of us. This day was more than 5000 feet over about 22 miles. So
not very steep, but still a grind.
</p>
<p>
As I went higher, the landscape changed from desert and chaparral to
more of a forest. It also became clear that we were reaching
elevations where it could snow if there was any precipitation.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-SZ19p5esr9U/Tdk5s92ISgI/AAAAAAAABf4/6uz_7f9FouU/s800/DSCF0572.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-SZ19p5esr9U/Tdk5s92ISgI/AAAAAAAABf4/6uz_7f9FouU/s800/DSCF0572.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Given that we had had bad weather over the past couple of days, this
was a real concern. The picture above has clouds in it, and I was
monitoring them all day. The plan for the day was to end near a
trail going to the town of Wrightwood and then to spend the next day
in Wrightwood. If bad weather hit, we would go into Wrightwood that
night.
</p>
<p>
What happened was a bit more complicated than that. When we got to
the top of the hill, the weather wasn't great. The wind was blowing
fiercely, and it was cold and cloudy, but there was no
precipitation. Morevover, we were at a campground with an outhouse
that all the campers could pile into if the weather got truly
awful. Even though the outhouse didn't smell great, we would do it
if we had to.
</p>
<p>
We didn't have to, but I awoke the next morning to freezing rain.
On the trail, I'm generally an early riser, so I was out of camp
before the others that were camping at the site with me. Even
though the trail to town was behind us, I decided to hike to the
road that was about five miles ahead of us. I guess I was in a bit
of a masochistic mood.
</p>
<p>
As I walked down the trail, ice balls as big as cantaloupes fell
from the trees around me. The freezing rain was accompanied by a
strong wind, and it felt like someone was sandblasting my face.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-njjbEhDW0l0/Tdk5_KJN01I/AAAAAAAABgE/ckXeQPMWtq4/s800/DSCF0574.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-njjbEhDW0l0/Tdk5_KJN01I/AAAAAAAABgE/ckXeQPMWtq4/s800/DSCF0574.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
After a while, the trail was covered by snow and ice, and staying on
it became more difficult. At one point, I kept going straight after
it had turned and ended up at a ski hill. There was a nearby
maintenance shed, and I stood in its wind shadow to warm up a bit
and read my maps. I was near the trail, so I got back on it. After
another half mile or so, I was still at the ski hill, but I found a
warming shed. The ski hill was closed for the season, but the
heater in the shed still worked, so I had a chance to warm up for
real.
</p>
<p>
At that point, I knew I had two options. I could either try to stay
on the trail, or I could go down the ski run that I was sitting at
the top of. It is a truism that if you go down a ski run, you will
eventually find a road at the end, so I knew that would work. As I
said, I was having trouble staying on trail, so it was an attractive
option. Looking back on it, going down the ski run would probably
have been smarter, but I decided to try to stay on the trail.
</p>
<p>
I did get slightly lost a couple more times, but eventually I found
my way to the road. As I descended, the weather got better (just
rain and not freezing rain), but I was still pretty cold and wet by
the time I got there.
</p>
<p>
Unbeknownst to me, the road was closed in the direction that traffic
would be coming towards town, so hitching was <i>really</i> hard. Since
I was cold and wet, I decided to keep moving, and walk towards
town. A few miles down the road there was an intersection which
meant that finally there would be traffic in the correct direction
on the road, so I got a hitch the rest of the way.
</p>
<p>
I had a nice time in Wrightwood, where I stayed in a room with Holden and
(Head)Banger. We went out for Mexican food at a place that
advertised 5 cent margaritas with your meal. Of course, only the
first was 5 cents, but Holden didn't realize that. Or perhaps he
didn't want to realize it because it was his birthday. In any case,
he had quite a few of them, and it was a pretty fun night.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Mount Baden-Powell</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
After a large pancake breakfast, I got a ride back to the trail.
The first half of the day was flat and easy, and then I got to Mount
Baden-Powell. Initially, it was easy too, though steeper than most
of the trail we had encountered so far, and then I got to the
snow. Even that didn't seem too bad – someone had gone up it on
skis, so the trail was easy to follow. I met another hiker on the
way up (I can't for the life of me remember his trail name), and we
decided to stick together going up the mountain.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-f0WndvmwhK8/Tdk6NjGRdRI/AAAAAAAADO4/H1NMH8DyaT4/s800/DSCF0576.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-f0WndvmwhK8/Tdk6NjGRdRI/AAAAAAAADO4/H1NMH8DyaT4/s800/DSCF0576.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Near the top of the mountain, the PCT turns and traverses the face
of the mountain, and another trail keeps going to the top.
Traverses are scarier to me than ridge walking, so we took the trail
to the top.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CBjbZoP7fWA/Tdk68VDz2DI/AAAAAAAABhQ/mwhBNd_L0rk/s800/DSCF0584.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CBjbZoP7fWA/Tdk68VDz2DI/AAAAAAAABhQ/mwhBNd_L0rk/s800/DSCF0584.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Now here is where things get funny. As you can see in the picture
above, there was quite a fog that day. So, following footsteps
rather than our compasses, we went down the wrong ridge. In the
picture below, we were supposed to follow the red line, but we
followed the orange one instead.
</p>
<p>
<a href="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/./../../posts/hiking/mountainmishap.png"><img src="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/../../posts/hiking/mountainmishap.png" alt="mountainmishap.png"/></a>
</p>
<p>
knew that we were lost. What we didn't know was just how lost we
were. We started scouting around for the trail, going back to
places where we had last seen footprints, and following animal paths
to dead ends. By the time we got our compasses out, we were off the
map, but it didn't matter. It was clear that we were going the
wrong direction.
</p>
<p>
Before we figured out exactly what had happened, Garby happened upon
us. He had gone down the path to Wrightwood rather than the road,
so he had been a few hours behind us all day. He had seen our
footprints and assumed that we were going the right way. So now
there were three of us that were lost.
</p>
<p>
Once Garby showed up, though, we figured out what had happened
pretty quickly. It was clear that we would have to walk all the way
back up Mount Baden-Powell, and go down the correct ridge. By this
time, however, the sun was setting, so we needed to camp. It was a
new experience for me, camping while lost. It was not particularly
pleasant. I remember getting up during the night and seeing that
the fog had cleared. The moon was bright, and I could see the ridge
that we needed to walk down.
</p>
<p>
We were all up early the next morning, partly because we wanted to
be back on the trail and officially un-lost, and partly because we
were all almost out of water. We hiked back up the mountain and
down the correct ridge to a beautiful spring, with water coming out
of the side of the mountain.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Podcasts</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
Let me take a quick diversion here to talk about the process of
hiking, rather than the journey. On the AT I resisted technology
for a long time. On the PCT, however, I started the trail with an
mp3 player. I would charge and refill it with podcasts every chance
that I got. Some people hate any technology on the trail (except
all the technologically-advanced stuff that they carry on their
back, but I digress even further), but I think that listening to
podcasts really helped me cement the experience in my brain. I have
trail memories triggered by my favorite podcasts all the time.
</p>
<p>
I can picture exactly where I was when I was listening to the guys
on <a href="http://thebuglepodcast.com/">The Bugle</a> make fun of the hype surrounding the royal wedding.
And now, whenever they mention it, I picture that place. When I was
going up the hill out of Cajon Pass, I was listening to an interview
on <a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/">Fresh Air</a> with a couple who filmed lions. On the way down Mount
Baden-Powell, I was listening to Tig Notaro on <a href="http://www.maximumfun.org/shows/jordan-jesse-go">Jordan, Jesse, Go</a>. I
heard Tig on another podcast the other day and immediately thought
of the whole experience. Even more than a year later, these are
completely vivid memories, and I think the fact that I was making
mental connections between what I was listening to and the place
that I was hiking through helped that.
</p>
<p>
So anyway to distill it to two words: podcasts good. Just always
have one earbud out if you are walking in a place that could have
snakes.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-4">Frog Detour and Station Fire Burn area</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4">
<p>
The next couple of days are a bit of a blur (though I could tell you
what I listened to). It was a beautiful area, but perhaps the
slightly traumatic experience of getting so lost pushed the memories
out of my head.
</p>
<p>
One thing that does stick out is a long road walk to detour around
the habitat of an endangered species of frog. I later heard that
horseback riders are likely more damaging to the frogs' habitat than
hikers, so I would have been fine going through the detour, but I
did the detour in any case.
</p>
<p>
The day after the frog-detour day, the trail went through the burn
zone of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Station_Fire_(2009)#Los_Angeles_County">Station Fire</a>. An act of arson, this fire had been so
bad that it burned down the ranger station. They were rebuilding
at the time that we were there, which is a good thing to see, but a
burn zone is a pretty sad thing for me.
</p>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4-1" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-4-1">Boris</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-4-1">
<p>
In the <a href="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/./../../posts/hiking/socal-03">last section</a>, I mentioned that there was a funny story with
Boris and LoL. Around the frog detour, just past Mount
Baden-Powell, LoL went into the bushes to go to the bathroom and
Boris passed him without LoL knowing it. Boris was in the zone,
moving fast, and even though he and LoL had been hiking together,
he didn't wait around for LoL. With his head down, he even missed
a turn and went a little way on a wrong path before realizing it
and bushwhacking down to the correct path.
</p>
<p>
After half a day of not seeing his buddy, LoL got concerned.
Assuming that Boris was behind him, LoL decided to wait for Boris.
When he got word from hikers behind him that they had seen a place
where a hillside had been torn up and it looked like someone had
fallen down the mountain, LoL had all the reason he needed to panic
and call in search and rescue. They sent a team to the place where
the possible fall had been seen, but found no Boris. They had
sheriffs go to all the campgrounds in the area and yell his name
(one of them woke me up).
</p>
<p>
Boris was at the same campground as Garby, about 10 miles ahead of
me, and had no idea that so much was going on in his honor. When
he found out, he was mightily embarrassed, and that's how he got
his trail name of Overdrive. My theory is that he didn't want to
be associated with the name that the sheriffs had been yelling.
</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-5" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-5">Vasquez Rocks and Hiker Heaven</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-5">
<p>
It had been an eventful section, and there were two last treats.
The first was the Vasquez Rocks. Huge weather-worn rocks sticking
out of the desert, they epitomize what I think of as a western
scene. For good reason, it turns out. They have been used in
<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_productions_using_the_Vasquez_Rocks_as_a_filming_location">quite a lot of movies and TV shows</a> that want to have a "Western"
location.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Z88b0OU1DKE/Tdk8D_-Gn5I/AAAAAAAABiI/wBHthUwP2j0/s800/DSCF0595.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Z88b0OU1DKE/Tdk8D_-Gn5I/AAAAAAAABiI/wBHthUwP2j0/s800/DSCF0595.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
It is quite a touristy location, to the extent that they even have
placards along the path identifying the flora. I was a bit
surprised to see that they even had one identifying poison oak. I
would think that it would be easier to remove the poison oak than to
put up a sign saying what it is, but I guess that shows what I know.
</p>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-5-1" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-5-1">Hiker Heaven</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-5-1">
<p>
Just past the Vasquez Rocks is a hostel appropriately named Hiker
Heaven. It's run by the Saufleys, who are a great couple who
happen to have a large yard and love hikers. I took a zero there,
and got a ride to an outfitter near LA where I got a couple of
things that I had been needing.
</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-6" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-6">Next Time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-6">
<p>
Into the real desert. Night-hiking to avoid the sun. Going by
another wind farm. Feeling sick.
</p>
</div>
</div>
California Section Chttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/socal-03/2012-05-24T05:49:41Z2012-05-24T05:49:41Z
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">A bit of news</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
This blog has been pretty quiet lately, because I recently moved
from Calgary to sunny California. I took a job with <a href="http://www.starviewinc.com/">Starview</a> in San
Jose, and I'm living nearby in Sunnyvale. Things are going really
well with the job, and I've been working hard so that I can make an
impact right out of the gate. Of course, that cuts down on the time
that I have for writing blogs. So that's what I've been up to. On
with the story of the hike.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Cabazon to Big Bear</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
Section B ends in an ugly way under an interstate highway overpass.
It's sandy, and that's hard to walk on. By the time we got there,
it was already after noon, and mighty hot. A wall of clouds loomed,
but it was easy to disregard them, considering that we were still in
what could easily be considered desert. The clouds were to one side
and Palm Springs was on the other. We were moving closer to Palm
Springs, so there was no way it was going to rain. (Have you
guessed that it's going to rain yet?)
</p>
<p>
As we walked, we came nearer to a wind farm, the first of two that
we would walk past on our hike. It is a little hard to imagine how
large the turbines are when you just see them fleetingly as you
drive past, but when you walk near them, you get the full
experience. They aren't messing around. There is a little man-made
oasis near a maintenance truck by the wind farm where there is shade
and refreshments, so we took a break and tended to our feet for a
while before we started moving again.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vQn_UOPq5WE/Tdk4j0aSxaI/AAAAAAAABeo/uA1H-sRNowg/s800/DSCF0561.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-vQn_UOPq5WE/Tdk4j0aSxaI/AAAAAAAABeo/uA1H-sRNowg/s800/DSCF0561.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
A little after we left, it started raining. At first it was a
relief. We had been walking under completely blue skies in Southern
California for around two weeks, and the variety was nice. However,
I had been expecting the blue skies and had not packed any rain gear
for this part of the journey (I sent it all to the beginning of the
Sierras). So after a while, even my fleece was getting
waterlogged. Our plan upon leaving the oasis had been to try to get
to a fish hatchery that was about a half a mile off-trail. Since it
would clearly be the only shelter for miles, it became a must.
</p>
<p>
I had been hiking in the vicinity of Garby, Raven, and Lovebird all
day, and we met up near where we thought the junction with the
fish-hatchery trail would be. In fact, I thought that we were at
the junction because I was misreading the map. In my defense, it's
pretty hard to read a map through a plastic bag in a hard rain, but
that doesn't change the fact that I was misreading the map. I was
lucky that Raven was more persuasive than me, and convinced us to go
on until we actually found the junction.
</p>
<p>
Eventually we made it to the fish hatchery, where there was shelter
(a gazebo-like structure for tourists to picnic under). We had gone
over 27 miles on the day – more than 1% of the trail. I quickly
set up my hammock between two beams of the gazebo, but the setup
wasn't optimal, and the wind kept waking me up throughout the night
by flapping the tarp.
</p>
<p>
The next day was almost completely uphill. The rain was gone and it
was hot once again. I got an early start, but that only gets you so
much.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-uXHQpSRVdnY/Tdk4tpTOZJI/AAAAAAAABes/Zg3tvddCOsE/s800/DSCF0562.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-uXHQpSRVdnY/Tdk4tpTOZJI/AAAAAAAABes/Zg3tvddCOsE/s800/DSCF0562.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We walked up the basin formed by a creek for almost the whole day.
By the end of the day, we had climbed around 5000 feet. It was cold
at night at that altitude and there were pine trees. We ran into
some fun people at the camp site, most notably Love it or Leave it
(abbreviated LoL) and Hercules. Hercules will show up again much
later in the story, but we will meet LoL and his friend Boris (aka
Overdrive) again much sooner.
</p>
<p>
After our long climb, Garby and I kept the next day nice and easy,
setting ourselves up for a nearo into the town of Big Bear. We
found a nice camp at around 3 and then just rested for the remainder
of the day. We even made a camp fire. Unfortunately, Lovebird had
shin splints, so he and Raven hitched in to Big Bear by an alternate
road before our camp. We would see them in town, but it was the
last I would hike with them for quite a while.
</p>
<p>
On the Appalachian Trail, you can tell that you are having a good
day if you can do "12 by 12". That is, 12 miles by noon. Garby and
I had 9 miles to go to get to the road into Big Bear the next day
and we made it by 9 o'clock. 9 by 9 is so much better than 12 by
12 that I was pretty impressed, but perhaps it's one of those things
that doesn't really translate.
</p>
<p>
Anyway, we spent the day in Big Bear. It's a very spread-out town,
which makes it bad for hikers, so I won't say too much about it.
(Other than to note that it has the smallest ski hill I think I've
ever seen. Seriously, there must be sand dunes that are bigger.)
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Big Bear to Cajon Pass</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
Following our day in Big Bear, we must have walked for a while, but
I don't remember it at all. So I'll skip it. The day after that,
we made one of our biggest mistakes on the trail. A section of the
trail was closed due to a rock slide, and an alternate route was
given. We took the alternate.
</p>
<p>
At first, it didn't look too bad. It was mostly on dirt roads, but
there wasn't any traffic. However, we soon turned off the dirt road
onto off-road-vehicle roads. It was a Friday, and the off-roaders
were out in force. There were vehicles of all shapes and sizes from
dirt bikes to Hummers. Every 20 minutes or so, there would be a
procession of them. The passengers would hold up their fingers
indicating how many more were coming, which is thoughtful, but also
disheartening. "Really, there are 7 more of you jerks disrupting my
day?"
</p>
<p>
We ate lunch by a little creek and I got some water out of it,
upstream of its crossing with the road. It was a good thing that I
did, because as we were eating lunch, three Jeeps came to the
creek. We sat and watched as they crossed and re-crossed the creek
4 or 5 times, a different passenger getting out and taking video of
the crossing each time. It was maddening.
</p>
<p>
We later heard that if we had not taken the alternate, the trail
would have been beautiful and the rock slide not too bad. Also,
Deep Creek, which is where the trail went, is a natural hot spring
that is clothing-optional. The day that we missed it, there was a
rumored nude photo shoot there. Now of course this is a only trail
rumor, so who knows if it's true, but it sure sounds like the kind
of thing that I would have liked to have verified for myself. For
science, of course.
</p>
<p>
Anyway, by the end of the long day, we finished the alternate route
and were back on the trail. We met an older lady, and being a bit
dumb, I didn't realize who she was until she was already gone. Her
name is Mother Goose, and she is an a true trail legend. She is
still going strong – according to her <a href="http://www.postholer.com/mothergoose">trail journal</a>, she is hiking
the PCT again this year. I set up my hammock in some scrubby trees
on a hillside and it rained again at night.
</p>
<p>
It kept raining the next morning, and I got as colder as the day
went on. My strategy in situations like that is generally to push
on and keep moving so that I generate body heat. That day, however,
it was really bad. It just never let up. Eventually I met up with
Garby at an underpass where we found some shelter from the rain. I
tried to tear open a pack of crackers, but my fingers were so cold
that they had lost the strength required even for that. Out of the
rain, we warmed up again, and eventually found the courage to hike
on.
</p>
<p>
It didn't rain much longer that day, and before long we were drying
our tarps in the sun. The terrain also became more deserty again,
which was heartening. I was really tired of rain by that point. I
had not expected it or packed for it. Even when you're ready for
it, cold rain isn't much fun, but when you're not ready for it, it's
downright awful.
</p>
<p>
Anyway, in the afternoon, we walked by some very windy cliffs to
Cajon Pass. It sounds nice, but it's really a McDonald's and a Best
Western at a highway rest stop. I got my customary chocolate shake,
and a room at the Best Western. I was tired from the long days
and walking in the rain, so I slept deeply.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-4">Next time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4">
<p>
Snow and ice. Getting really lost. Finally getting back to normal
weather and having to take a "frog detour". Boris and LoL get up to
some shenanigans that keep people up at night. Finally, we meet
some of the nicest trail angels around.
</p>
</div>
</div>
California Section Bhttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/socal-02/2012-04-23T00:33:42Z2012-04-22T23:04:48Z
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Warner Springs to Idyllwild</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
Leaving Warner Springs, my feet were getting tired. I had started
with shoes that had almost no padding (the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004IHNHQK/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=hikiandcodi-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B004IHNHQK">Merrell Trail Glove</a>), and
it was turning out that they were too minimal for the task at hand.
They were fine for forests, but the rocky desert that I was walking
on was not forgiving enough. I had ordered some of my favorite
trail runners to be sent to a cafe that was a couple of days away,
though, so I was keen to get there.
</p>
<p>
The first day out of Warner Springs, I met up with the group of
three ladies that I met the day before Warner Springs. We made it
to a water tank by the early afternoon and then sat and shot the
breeze during the really hot part of the day. Annie's blisters were
still really bad, but she had gotten epsom salts in town, and she
spent quite a while soaking her feet in a plastic bag.
</p>
<p>
We eventually hiked on, but it was starting to get dark quickly.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2OWhQv6J7RU/Tdk1sPcwPXI/AAAAAAAABcE/tiQCf5BoyCQ/s640/DSCF0533.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2OWhQv6J7RU/Tdk1sPcwPXI/AAAAAAAABcE/tiQCf5BoyCQ/s640/DSCF0533.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Eventually we got to a spot with some flat areas where tents could
be set up. Unfortunately for me, there were no trees where I could
hang my hammock, so I had to "cowboy camp". It's a pretty common
thing to do, especially on the PCT, where there is very little
rain. Basically, it is camping without any shelter. I put the tarp
of my hammock down and my mat and sleeping back on top of it. The
bugs were pretty bad (I kept Annie awake by slapping at mosquitoes),
and the ground was a lot less comfortable than my hammock, but I
made it through the night. Thankfully, it was one of the very few
times that I was forced to sleep on the ground during the whole
trip.
</p>
<p>
The next day was, for me, a big day. I wanted to get to the cafe as
quickly as possible to get my shoes. We started early, but before
long it was hot again. Raven, Lovebird, and Garby, who had all left
Warner Springs a bit after I had, caught and passed me. Eventually
we all met at a water cache and again tried to wait out the sun.
</p>
<p>
I found that I couldn't wait. New shoes were just too close and too
tantalizing. It was really hot, but they would have cold drinks at
the cafe. I walked on, up and down hills, and across dirt roads
with no trail magic until I finally got to the top of a hill where I
could see the road with the cafe. I could see Annie ahead of me, and
I knew that she would have no trouble getting a ride. I was also
really excited about the cafe. So I started running down the hill
towards the road.
</p>
<p>
Annie really had no trouble getting the ride – I think someone
stopped before she had enough put out her thumb, so I was on my
own. Before long Raven and Lovebird showed up and the three of us
got a ride together. After a short ride, we were at Paradise Valley
Cafe.
</p>
<p>
Paradise Valley Cafe really is a paradise, especially for
thru-hikers. First, it has one of the best waitresses I have ever
seen. She was a marvel of efficiency, giving us ice water as soon
as we came in and refilling our drinks well before they ran dry.
She was even reading hiking books in an effort to connect better
with her clientele. It also has really good burgers (of course I
got the veggie patty), and is in a really beautiful location. What
made me the happiest, though, was my new shoes. After 150 miles of
shoes with no padding at all, they felt like walking on cushions.
</p>
<p>
Eventually we had to leave paradise. It was late, and there was a
little trail behind the cafe back to the PCT, so I walked down that
until I found a couple of trees where I could hang my hammock. All
the trees were too big or too far apart until I got nearly all the
way to the trail. Even then, I had to be very creative to make the
hammock work.
</p>
<p>
I was up early the next day and moving a lot faster. We were
heading into the San Jacinto mountains, and the elevation gain meant
that we would get some respite from the heat. Down below was the
desert and Palm Springs, and I was glad not to be there.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pM9l-VDxsJs/Tdk20nApc3I/AAAAAAAABdI/xgHbg9636UM/s800/DSCF0544.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pM9l-VDxsJs/Tdk20nApc3I/AAAAAAAABdI/xgHbg9636UM/s800/DSCF0544.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ycRPfwUCUxk/Tdk2gFfAcQI/AAAAAAAABc8/UMgJkDT8O-U/s800/DSCF0541.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ycRPfwUCUxk/Tdk2gFfAcQI/AAAAAAAABc8/UMgJkDT8O-U/s800/DSCF0541.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-3G_8V1I7vcg/Tdk3S3oDeqI/AAAAAAAABdg/1RSwB_PPTPU/s800/DSCF0549.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-3G_8V1I7vcg/Tdk3S3oDeqI/AAAAAAAABdg/1RSwB_PPTPU/s800/DSCF0549.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I slept on the side of a mountain that night, and the next morning
came to some snow-covered trail. At that point, it was still enough
of a novelty that I took a picture.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Q7sN1vpeiXg/Tdk39Isin5I/AAAAAAAABeA/piFJkqioW0U/s800/DSCF0555.JPG" alt="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Q7sN1vpeiXg/Tdk39Isin5I/AAAAAAAABeA/piFJkqioW0U/s800/DSCF0555.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LXdf2CTd3m8/Tdk4QqnTBLI/AAAAAAAABeY/folE9Emn3AE/s800/DSCF0558.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LXdf2CTd3m8/Tdk4QqnTBLI/AAAAAAAABeY/folE9Emn3AE/s800/DSCF0558.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Later that day I made it down a steep side trail to Idyllwild, and
met up with the rest of the crew. We had a Mexican feast and
listened to some really good live music until "hiker midnight" (9
PM).
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Fuller Ridge</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
Up early the next day to hike back up the side trail. We had more
snow ahead of us, and the dreaded Fuller Ridge. People had been
hyping Fuller Ridge for at least 50 miles, and as with most things
in life, it didn't live up to the hype.
</p>
<p>
Though I'm writing about it now with some bravado, I must admit that
I was glad to be with a group. Even better was having Lovebird and
Raven in the group, who are from the Yukon and have a lot of
experience hiking on snow. Garby showed me how to shorten one
hiking pole while walking on the side of a ridge, but all in all
Fuller Ridge really wasn't that bad. The most difficult thing was
navigating on the snow. We had a good idea of where we were on the
map, and using some intuition and my altimeter watch, we were able
to stay at the right elevation. When we walked over the wilderness
sign that was buried almost to its top in the snow, we knew we were
at the right place.
</p>
<p>
We ended the day at a trailhead whose elevation was not much
different from the top of the ridge. It had already been raining a
bit during the day, and it continued into the night. Because of the
elevation, it froze over night and I awoke to find a thin layer of
ice covering my hammock's tarp. Since my new shoes were frozen, I
wore my old ones for a while that morning as we started our
descent.
</p>
<p>
The descent from Fuller Ridge is kind of amazing. The factoid on
the map states that it's 4.3 miles in a straight line but 15.2 miles
on the trail. It's just one switchback after another. It's a
little boring, but we made quick work of it. We got to the bottom
by noon. We had lost about 7000 feet of elevation in the morning
and were in the boiling heat of the sun once more.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Next time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
Some editing will be in order if I ever want to finish writing about
this hike. I remember it all so vividly, though, and I enjoy
reliving the details. Anyway, we will go past a wind farm and get
caught in the rain. We will miss some of the best sights on the
trail because we stupidly followed the law and took a marked
detour. And a Best Western will never have seemed so good after a
tough day with some more rain.
</p>
</div>
</div>
California Section Ahttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/socal-01/2012-04-15T19:21:52Z2012-04-15T19:16:46Z
<p>Here we go on the first post of my recap of my experience on the
Pacific Crest Trail. It's been nearly a year since I started, and I
didn't keep records of where I stayed as well as on the <a href="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/./../AT">AT</a>, so this
recap will probably be a bit less detailed than that one (which might
be a good thing).
</p>
<p>
Here's the obligatory "before" photo:
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4xYuJjCRfeo/TdkxHjmx2MI/AAAAAAAABXU/8_DU5RSDSio/s800/DSCF0494.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-4xYuJjCRfeo/TdkxHjmx2MI/AAAAAAAABXU/8_DU5RSDSio/s800/DSCF0494.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
Across the wall behind me is Mexico. My shirt is clean, my pack's
color is vivid, and my face is clean-shaven. None of those things
would be true for very long on this hike. I had arrived at the border
at around 6:30 PM, so I didn't plan to go very far that evening. I
passed the first mile-marker on my way to the small town near the
trailhead:
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Ia1Kk0DJplw/TdkxihMR9VI/AAAAAAAABX0/fR580G6sFbQ/s640/DSCF0495.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Ia1Kk0DJplw/TdkxihMR9VI/AAAAAAAABX0/fR580G6sFbQ/s640/DSCF0495.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I had food with me, but no water. The store owner (because the town
was little more than a convenience store) made me buy water. Since
Southern California is mostly a desert, I felt it was the best idea to
go along with it. I walked a bit longer (I made maybe about three
miles on the first evening), found a place to set up my hammock, made
supper and went to bed.
</p>
<p>
The next day really showed the rigors of desert hiking. With the sun
beating down and hardly any shade, it wasn't long before things got
really hot. I heard my first rattlesnake in bushes nearby, but I just
kept trudging on. At lunchtime, though, I found a bit of shade at the
bottom of a hill near a flowing stream. There was another hiker there
with the trail name Hikeaholic. He had hiked the PCT before and had
even been a maintainer of the trail in Washington, and he was quite
encouraging about my chances. After lunch, we parted ways, and I went
on to the Lake Morena campsite for the first day of what is known as
the Kickoff.
</p>
<p>
The <a href="http://adzpctko.org">Kickoff</a> is an annual event where many of the northbound hikers
(which is just about everyone on the PCT) get together. Gear
companies show up along with trail "alumni" who want to re-live the
fun and scare the newbies. There were a few hundred tents set up in
the campsite by the evening, and the next morning I thought that I had
seen enough. I go hiking to avoid crowds of that size, so I started
down the trail in the cool of the morning.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-GHRj21tyVm8/Tdkx1FUfjMI/AAAAAAAABYY/zH2C1pKtysk/s800/DSCF0499.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-GHRj21tyVm8/Tdkx1FUfjMI/AAAAAAAABYY/zH2C1pKtysk/s800/DSCF0499.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I was on my own for most of the day, but I met two couples that I
would later hike with for long distances: Raven and Lovebird, and
Funyan and Meow-Meow. Of course, they didn't have their trail names
at that point, but after a while it becomes more natural to refer to
people by their trail names than their actual names. At the end of
the day, I set up camp just above a dry creek bed with another person
with whom I would hike most of Southern California: a tall guy who got
the trail name Garby from his ability to clean everyone's plates
like a garbage disposal.
</p>
<p>
The next day actually had some pine forest, which was a bit of a
surprise. I enjoyed the shade, but it didn't last long, and
eventually I was back in the sun. I ended the day in a campsite that
was the last bit of green on the map for many miles. I had gotten
there minutes after Lovebird, Raven, and Garby. There was another
person that I hadn't met before, who introduced himself as Swope. I
told the group that my intention was to stay at the campsite so that I
could be sure to find a place to hang my hammock. I very quickly
regretted it as Swope announced that that made us hiking buddies,
because he was staying there as well.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZRMjGMQuBCo/TdkzIapsZWI/AAAAAAAABaQ/tmmio8Ram0w/s800/DSCF0510.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZRMjGMQuBCo/TdkzIapsZWI/AAAAAAAABaQ/tmmio8Ram0w/s800/DSCF0510.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
I could tell that Swope was a little off, and as the evening went on,
it became even more clear. He talked a mile a minute about some very
strange topics, he clearly hadn't been long-distance hiking before,
and he had a massive pack (around 50 pounds) whose weight he had
reduced from about 80 pounds the day before. He even had a satellite
phone with him – pretty strange for someone who wanted to get away
from civilization. Eventually, I had all that I could take and
escaped to my hammock for some shuteye. (Sorry Swope if you ever read
this. Some people are just not natural hiking companions.) Swope got
out of camp ahead of me the next morning, but given his huge pack, I
had no trouble passing him very quickly.
</p>
<p>
The hiking was turning out to be slightly different than I had
expected. When I think of the desert, I imagine really sandy areas
with almost no vegetation. This was fairly rocky with shrubs and
brushy trees. Desert is actually a misnomer: the ecosystem is known
as <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaparral">chaparral</a>. It was still hot, though, and when I got to a water
tank at around noon, I decided to wait out the sun for a while. While
I was waiting, I met Skinny D. We talked for a while, and then she
went on ahead of me.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Gj3_sGqRax4/Tdkzbwn54EI/AAAAAAAABaA/At4SK3R1Y5c/s800/DSCF0513.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Gj3_sGqRax4/Tdkzbwn54EI/AAAAAAAABaA/At4SK3R1Y5c/s800/DSCF0513.JPG" />
</p>
<p>
We met again at Scissors Crossing – an awkward intersection of roads
– where trail angels had left water, energy drinks, beer, and even a
pie. It was supper time, so we ate supper and then had the pie for
desert. Skinny D went a bit farther, but I found some trees near a
dried creek bed, and hung out there. It was surprisingly cold over
night – the lack of moisture in the air causes that to happen – and
I was glad to get moving the next morning so that I could get warm.
</p>
<p>
That day highlighted another big difference between the PCT and the
AT. The whole day was spent going over one big hill. On the AT, the
hills come thick and fast, but on the PCT they are much more gradual.
The net effect is that you spend a long time going up and then a long
time going down. We finished the day just past mile 100, where I met
up with many of the people I had met earlier as well as two new ones:
Liz and Annie. Annie had terrible blisters, but she was pushing
through the pain, which eventually led to her trail name "Push".
</p>
<p>
It was only about 7 miles to the first trail town – Warner Springs.
There's really not much more to the town than a small resort and a
gas-station convenience store, where I picked up my first resupply.
</p>
<p>
After getting to Warner Springs nice and early, I got a room at the
resort with Garby, and we had a lot of fun there with Raven and
Lovebird as well. While we were eating at the pub, a
bedraggled-looking Swope walked in. He was clearly the worse for
wear, and had only hiked as far as Scissors Crossing (meaning that he
had somehow gotten a day behind me despite starting at the same time
two days earlier). He then hitchhiked to Warner Springs and was
intending to get a ride back to Scissors Crossing and return to Warner
Springs by running. It was, as always, an unconventional approach.
It was the last I would see of him, but I did hear that he made it
farther than I had expected (though I don't know if he finished).
</p>
<p>
Later that night, the four of us went for a dip in the hot pool that
is fed by the hot springs. It's debatable whether it hurt or helped
our hiking, but it was nice and relaxing.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Next time</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
There will be fewer characters to introduce, so hopefully I can
write about more than one section. The trail goes from chaparral to
mountains and back, and we have a snow storm in the mountains and a
rain storm in the desert. Hopefully I'll be able to get to the part
where I get massively lost by walking down the wrong mountain
ridge. That was fun.
</p>
</div>
</div>
Hiking Philosophyhttp://chrismgray.github.com//posts/hiking/philosophy/2012-03-15T17:24:18Z2012-03-13T19:50:44Z
<p>Now that I have written an account of my <a href="http://chrismgray.github.com//tags/hiking/./../AT">AT hike</a>, I thought I would
write down some things that I think are true about hiking before
writing about the next hike. The first thing to note is that I
subscribe completely to the hike-your-own-hike (HYOH) philosophy, so
this should be read as descriptive more than prescriptive.
</p>
<div id="outline-container-1" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-1">Leave No Trace</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-1">
<p>
Okay, I lied. This is the one prescription. Read the <a href="http://lnt.org/programs/principles.php">principles</a>
and follow them. Also follow any other rules that are in place for
the area that you're in. If it says not to make camp fires, then
don't. It's a pity to need to say this, but I've seen experienced
hikers break the rules (and I'm not perfect either, but I do my
best).
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-2" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-2">Animals</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-2">
<p>
So much of the conversation about hiking with non-hikers or
inexperienced hikers is about dangerous animals. I probably saw
less than one bear for every month of hiking that I did, and they
were all running away from me. I never hiked in grizzy country, and
if I ever do, I'll think about maybe carrying bear spray, though I
doubt I will in the end. Wilderness is vast and bears and other
dangerous animals are sparse. They generally don't want anything to
do with us.
</p>
<p>
The most scared I was of an animal on the AT was the time I saw a
skunk on the trail in the Shenandoahs.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-KQT9D0utAWY/TOXBZQbjviI/AAAAAAAAA4s/EEd3ZzaoEgs/s800/DSCF0277.JPG" alt="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-KQT9D0utAWY/TOXBZQbjviI/AAAAAAAAA4s/EEd3ZzaoEgs/s800/DSCF0277.JPG" />
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-3">Gear</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-3">
<p>
I'm generally not an ultralighter, though I'm moving more in that
direction. This is the gear that I used.
</p>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-1" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-1">Shelter</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-1">
<p>
I love my hammock. It's lighter than many tents, far more
comfortable than sleeping on the ground, and you don't need to find
a flat spot to set it up. On the other hand, you do need to find
suitable trees. This is easy in a pine forest and is probably
impossible in the plains.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WYbtmOhGn-k/TOW_oCdtkCI/AAAAAAAAAfM/RN-5a_C5hK4/s400/DSCF0060.JPG" alt="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WYbtmOhGn-k/TOW_oCdtkCI/AAAAAAAAAfM/RN-5a_C5hK4/s400/DSCF0060.JPG" />
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-2" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-2">Shoes</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-2">
<p>
Not boots. I grew to be very happy with the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004C0ZOEG/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=hikiandcodi-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B004C0ZOEG">North Face Singletrack</a>
trail-running shoe. It is a bit more rugged than a normal running
shoe, but far less stiff and heavy than a boot. I like my shoes to
last at least 10 miles per dollar. The Singletrack normally costs
about $100 and lasts about 1000 miles, so that works out.
</p>
<p>
<img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZuTaogQEfio/Tnu_74fePGI/AAAAAAAACbI/_rAU6IqEAQg/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" alt="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ZuTaogQEfio/Tnu_74fePGI/AAAAAAAACbI/_rAU6IqEAQg/s640/DSCF0597.JPG" />
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-3" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-3">Pack</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-3">
<p>
I wore the same pack for both of my thru-hikes: the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0034NUZ8M/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=hikiandcodi-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B0034NUZ8M">Black Diamond Infinity 60</a>. It worked well, though I came to feel that it was
heavier than it needed to be.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-4" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-4">Clothes</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-4">
<p>
All synthetic. For the AT hike, I wore the same shirt and shorts
most of the way. I got a new pair of shorts in Damascus, just
because I was getting tired of the pair that I was wearing. I
started my AT hike with three pairs of socks and they lasted me the
whole way. I would generally change socks only as needed because
they were wet or once per week during dry sections. I carried the
following:
</p>
<ul>
<li>One short-sleeved shirt
</li>
<li>One long-sleeved shirt
</li>
<li>Two pairs of underwear
</li>
<li>One pair of shorts
</li>
<li>One pair of long pants
</li>
<li>Three pairs of socks
</li>
<li>One fleece
</li>
<li>One rain jacket
</li>
<li>One down jacket
</li>
</ul>
<p>
On sections that I knew would be very cold, I carried a hat and
gloves. In the Sierras I carried wool tights as well, and there
were nights where I wore everything that I was carrying.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-5" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-5">Sleeping Bag</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-5">
<p>
I have a fairly generic down sleeping bag from <a href="http://mec.ca">MEC</a>. Since it's
down, I must be very careful to keep it dry. To do this, I keep it
in a trash bag inside its stuff sack.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-6" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-6">Bear canister</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-6">
<p>
It's the law that you must carry one in the Sierras, so I did.
They are the worst – heavy and bulky, and they still don't fit as
much food as a normal food bag.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-7" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-7">Hiking poles</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-7">
<p>
As far as I can tell, simpler is better. A strap is good and
telescoping is good so that they fit in cars when hitching. I've
never used poles with shock absorbers, but I really don't see how
they would help.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-8" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-8">Cooking</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-8">
<p>
The main change between my hikes was my stove. On my AT hike, I
used a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004P78F88/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=hikiandcodi-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B004P78F88">MSR Whisperlite</a> stove. It's a great stove – it puts out
varying levels of heat and is very fuel efficient – but I thought
it was a bit heavy for one person. So on my PCT hike, I took a
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B003LDCVBY/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=hikiandcodi-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B003LDCVBY">Vargo</a> titanium alcohol stove. It was lighter, but only had one
temperature, was more prone to accidents, was a pain to fill, and
required more fuel. I know that if I was going on a hike with more
than one person, I would take the Whisperlite, but I don't know
what I'd do on another solo hike.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-9" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-9">Maps</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-9">
<p>
For some hikes, they are necessary, for others emphatically not. I
took the <a href="http://theatguide.com/">AWOL guide</a> on my AT hike and printed out the <a href="http://www.pctmap.net/">Halfmile maps</a>
for my PCT hike. Since the AT is so well marked, only an elevation
profile is necessary so that you know how difficult the next
stretch of trail will be. On the other hand, it is important to
have maps on the PCT because there are places where the trail is
not obvious.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-3-10" class="outline-3">
<h3 id="sec-3-10">Bear Line</h3>
<div class="outline-text-3" id="text-3-10">
<p>
I have about 50 feet of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parachute_cord">parachute cord</a> that I attach the lightest
possible carabiner to. I then use the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgBLDMuPuvE">PCT Method</a> to hang the food
bag from the tree (with varying degrees of success). As I noted
earlier, I'm generally not too concerned about actual bears, but
hanging food is always a good thing, especially near established
campsites where there is a high probability of rodents.
</p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-4" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-4">Packing</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-4">
<p>
I'm a firm believer that you should always pack in a consistent
manner. This saves you time rooting around in your pack. The only
tip that I have is that the sleeping bag should go on the bottom.
You won't need it all day, and it's nice to have something soft on
the bottom of your pack if you put it down quickly or fall down
backwards. Other than that, I don't think the order matters too
much as long as it's consistent.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-5" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-5">People</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-5">
<p>
Both of my long hikes have been solo hikes in the sense that I made
no explicit arrangement with anyone else to hike together. In both
hikes, I have had periods of being truly alone and periods where I
would regularly meet up with the same people nearly every night. I
probably enjoyed myself the most when I was in groups of three or
four, but I also think that it would be nearly impossible for me to
stay with one single group for an entire hike.
</p>
<p>
The community aspect of hiking is one of its strongest
selling-points. You meet all kinds of people who are all doing the
same thing as you. So that gives you something to talk about right
away. Nothing bonds like shared misery.
</p>
<p>
There is also a strong sense that everyone is looking out for each
other. This was put into the starkest relief for me when I was
hiking in the Sierras on the PCT, so I'll go into it in more detail
when I get around to writing about that.
</p>
</div>
</div>
<div id="outline-container-6" class="outline-2">
<h2 id="sec-6">Conclusion</h2>
<div class="outline-text-2" id="text-6">
<p>
I might write another of these more general posts about hiking later.
I still haven't touched on things like a daily schedule or what town
stops are like. For now, however, I think this post has gotten long
enough.
</p>
</div>
</div>