My wife (fellow Six Moons Ambassador Raquel Mogado) and I set out to walk the Nakahechi, a 70-kilometer path between the three grand shrines of the Kumano, and then follow the steep trails of the Kohechi and Choishimichi Kumano routes up to Koyasan, a stunning temple complex on top of a mountain plateau. First walked in the 10th century, the Kumano Kodo provided early Shugendo religion practitioners with ample opportunities for communing with wild nature, and since that time, pilgrims ranging from peasants to emperors have undertaken the journey through one of Japan’s most mystical spots.
We started our journey in Takajiri, where the Takajirioji Togo Shinto shrine and its traditional torii gate mark the entrance to the Kumano Kodo. There are countless shrines and holy spots along the route which have small altars containing stamp pads, where pilgrims and trekkers can ink their camino “passports” as proof of their journey, as well as pause to reflect on the travails the early pilgrims undertook through this remote region. While the Nakahechi gets busy with trekkers in the spring and fall, we’d opted for a winter sojourn, and we pretty much had the trail all to ourselves. While Japan winters can be severe, the ranges through the Kii Peninsula stay below 1000 meters and temperatures are relatively mild.
The hiking was immediately steep, with ascents over gnarled roots and straight up the sides of mountains. Throughout the forest, we’d come across jizo, small stone statues that are considered the protector guardians of both travelers and children. Often clad in red knit caps or bibs (red is believed to ward off evil in Japan), the jizo and small shrines marking important historical waypoints of the ancient pilgrims were the only sign of human intrusion here, otherwise, the forests were dense, dark, mysterious, and when we saw the “Beware of Bears” signs, often foreboding.
We covered fifteen tough kilometers the first day, not even a half of what we’d normally do on the Pacific Crest Trail or elsewhere, but the terrain here was much harder, the trails not as groomed, and with plenty of ups and downs. Yet the rewards for each day’s endeavors were fabulous. While much of rural Japan is in a state of decline, with young people moving to the cities and a vastly aging population, the tiny hamlets along the Kumano Kodo see enough trekkers throughout the year to ensure that traditional inns and a handful of shops and eateries can keep the villages alive, and with accommodation and food available within a day’s walk, we didn’t have to carry our tent or camping equipment.
My pack of choice for treks of either shorter duration or those not needing camping gear has become my Six Moons Wy’East pack. Made out of rugged and durable nylon Robic, the 30 liter pack only weighs 25 ounces and yet can easily handle a several-day load that includes food.It’s got a comfy EVA back panel, a loop and cord lock for attaching an ice axe and umbrella, and I’ve even used it for shorter camping trips as I can stuff my tent in the large outer front pocket. Ideally though, it’s perfect for hut to hut trekking, long day hikes and climbs, as well as being an all purpose perfect travel bag, as it fits in carry-on bins on airplanes as well as train station lockers.
In addition to having uber-comfortable traditional ryokan, minshuku, and even temple lodgings along the trail, as well as superb Japanese food, this part of Wakayama is the site of abundant natural hot springs. The small hot spring town of Yunomine Onsen features the oldest hot spring in Japan, a cave-like bath for two people called Tsuboyu, which is the only UNESCO-awarded hot spring in the world, and a further 30-minute hike from here brought us to Kawayu Onsen, where the pristine Oto River boasts a section of boiling pools that turn the entire river hot, the perfect spot to soothe our sore quads while gazing out at the scenic natural surroundings.
The Kumano Kodo is a fantastic mix of natural scenery, culture, and the spiritual. From Yunomine Onsen we climbed back over a mountain ridge and had views down to Oyunohara, a traditional torii gate, which at over 100 feet is the tallest gate in Japan and the world. The same afternoon we climbed the steps at Kumano Hongu Taisha, one of the three grand shrines along the trail, where the beautiful forest pavilions feature roofs made of cypress bark and utilize almost no nails in their construction.
A day later, we powered up a 2500 foot climb to a viewpoint known as the “3600 peaks of the Kumano Kodo,” due to the vista of the endless mountains across the Kii Peninsula seen from this vantage point. It had rained the entire way up, but we got a break in the clouds as we hit the top, with fabulous views of the clouds and mist floating through the valleys below.
Further on, there was a section full of roots and moss-covered stones that climbed seemingly forever. Appropriately named Dogiri Zaka, this translates to “Body Breaking Slope,” and indeed, we were dreaming about another hot soak by the time we reached the top, from where we could see the Pacific Ocean shimmering far below. Noted Japanese poet Fujiwara Teika trekked here in 1201, and his diary entry from this bit of trail read, “This route is very rough and difficult; it is impossible to describe precisely how tough it is.” I chuckled to note that nothing had changed in over 800 years.
Whichever route you do on the Kumano Kodo, make sure to leave some time for Koyasan. Founded in 816 AD by revered monk Kobo Daishi, Koyasan was a place for Shingon Buddhist practitioners to escape the busy world below. Temples today still are active, and some now serve as atmospheric lodgings and retreats, with visitors invited to take part in meditation, chanting, and other temple-life staples. For us, Koyasan was the end of our walking journey, and a stroll through the moss-covered Okunoin Cemetery forest paths revealed some of the most magical scenery of our trip.
The thousands of ancient tombs, jizos, and memorials are blanketed by moss, nestled under tall stately cedars. The forest here is so calm, serene, and visually stunning, like something out of a Lord of the Rings fantasy.
It was easy to see why Kobo Daishi chose this enchanting spot as a spiritual escape in nature, and we felt proud, as modern-day pilgrims, to be carrying on the walking traditions of old, seeing a slice of Japan that most visitors never will. While the popularity of wilderness trails may make for less of a wilderness experience, at the same time it is wonderful to see plenty of distance hikers today choosing to do timeless pilgrimage routes such as the Camino de Santiago and Kumano Kodo, passing on the torch of adventure, exercise, and awe.
]]>
Before heading out into the outdoors, it is important to glean as much knowledge as you can about the weather forecast, the prevailing trail conditions, and any other beta from fellow recreationists. This should be an almost subconscious part of your planning and preparation for your safety and enjoyment anyhow. Accidents happen and bad things happen to good people. But don’t be pushing the envelope when you know things are too sketchy for your skills. Otherwise, a SAR team will have to come in and get you out creating lots of noise and disturbance, as well as perhaps putting themselves at risk.
Stick to small groups of three or four when venturing into sensitive wilderness areas. This helps to reduce the impact on the trails and environment. Big groups at camp can also be a real put-off for others. Sure by all means have bigger groups some of the time but stick to well-established routes that can handle that volume of traffic.
This follows on from your planning and preparation. Please don’t use trails if you think that they are going to be a quagmire of mud, or flooded out. You will be tempted to take detours to avoid the worst of it and the trail will get braided. If your bike handling skills are not up to the demands of a technical section of trail, get off your bike and push it along - don’t take an easy option off to the side and create damage. As a bike guide I regularly get my groups to walk along sections of trail at risk rather than contribute to even more damage by trying to pedal through them. After all, what are four hundred yards of walking amongst twenty-nine miles?!
When you are visiting a popular area use existing campsites to minimize further damage or erosion. If you don’t like busy campsites perhaps as part of your planning you should have considered visiting the area in shoulder season. Perhaps even consider going to a campground and using a cabin that is a little bit off-route to reduce your impact if you can afford it. In true backcountry seek out campsites that have as little vegetation as possible and avoid spots that are starting to look well used.
Any gates that you encounter should be left the way that you find them, ie. if it is open - leave it open or if it is shut - leave it shut. Simple!
Well let’s start with the most obvious one that springs to mind, shall we! When you need to take a dump walk at least 200 to 300 yards away from where you are camped, the trail, or any water sources. Dig a hole that is at least 6 inches deep and keep the soil that has been dug up for afterward. Do what you have to do in the hole and then bury your waste with the soil and if possible cover it over with leaves or other vegetation. The best practice would be to put your used toilet paper in a sealable bag and pack it out. I try to keep toilet paper, sealable bags, and a trowel in a particular stuff sack/dry bag so that others in the group can quickly find it when needed. After a few days, this all becomes second nature.
As for food, I have really enjoyed the challenge of trying to minimize how much single-use plastic and packaging I use on overnighters. Dry foods such as dried fruit, oats, rice, pasta, and instant potato can all be decanted from domestic packets at home into resealable bags. I am lucky where I live as we have a wholefood store where you can bring your containers to fill up with ingredients such as those above. This goes to show that LNT is not just for on the trail but it is a way of life too! Have a good look around the kitchen and in the fridge before you head off. There might still be some leftovers from last night’s delicious meal for you to pop into your KleanKanteen. I use mine at the school canteen during the week as well as on bikepacking trips where I know I will be able to visit takeaway places.
Of course, some purchases have to be made before we set off and they might not come in environmentally friendly packaging. Have fun learning how to replace the packaging with something more suitable before you head off and dispose of the nasty packaging at the local recycling center/dump. One of my favorites is a brightly patterned sandwich wrap which I use for all sorts of things, not just sandwiches!
Use a plastic compact pot scraper instead of a traditional scourer as it lasts way longer as well as not require any detergent. Just let tough spots of food on your pan soak overnight and then scrape them off with it.
I don’t know who first quoted this but it is SO, SO simple and effective, isn’t it? We are privileged to be able to visit and travel through the World’s wonderful wild places. Leaving them the way that you found them for others to enjoy is something that we should all strive for. Sometimes taking no pictures at all can create a much more intense, longer-lasting memory of a trip. When my kids were little we camped out not far from our village in the woods above a lake. For some reason, we had to break camp and leave before dawn. As we emerged from the trees the full moon and the Orion constellation were pin-sharp in the night sky. That memory and those of setting up camp will forever be firmly held in our mind’s eye - try it!
Although campfires can make us feel all cozy and outdoorsy they are not really a good idea as they damage the surrounding soil. They also encourage folk to use nearby wood as fuel. As this wood gets used the impact spreads out more and more.
Modern lightweight stoves such as alcohol or butane provide us with a much less impactful way of preparing food and hot drinks.
If you want a campfire stay at a campground that has fire pits. Simple.
For many folks one of the most important reasons for visiting the outdoors is the chance of seeing wild animals in their own habitat. This can be cool but please remember to keep your distance and not to disturb them by getting too close. If animals get phased out they might abandon their young, or become aggressive towards you.
Keep your food stored safely and securely in bear canisters or tree hangs when in Bear Country. This will help towards minimizing the chance of encounters with bears or other animals associating humans with food.
Don’t pick flowers as souvenirs, take a photo instead, or even better if you have time try sketching it!
I often remind guests, or friends that whether we like it or not we all carry a huge responsibility when traveling outdoors. Those new to this incredible world will look to us as an experienced, old hand and often copy what you do. Please remember this and set a good example. This doesn’t just mean following the 7 Principles of LNT, or being a Trail Jedi who never stumbles, grumbles or forgets something. It also means striving to be inclusive of everyone that we meet during our travels. Something as simple as a smile when passing one another, a small wave of greeting or a quiet ‘Hi’ might be all that someone wants or needs - respect that. Similarly if another hiker, or biker, or whatever makes the effort to interact please do the same. You never know when you might meet again!
We should all accept that our visits to the outdoors all carry a varying amount of risk. Make it part of your process to consider ‘What if..’ What if I crash my bike and break my collarbone? Am I riding with a buddy who could help me? Do I have a mobile signal to call 911? Has my SPOT Tracker got charged batteries? Can I suck it up and self-rescue myself? This did happen to me. On the flattest section of trail on the whole route! I did have a buddy with me who I trusted. We did self-rescue and pushed the bikes out to a friend’s farm. Build your experience and confidence so that you can accept the risk. So that you are self-sufficient enough to sort things out and leave no trace.
]]>As a person who works a full-time job I have always kept a kinda timetable of adventures and places I want to visit and when to visit them. I check the upcoming year how many extra public holiday days it has and how to combine them with the 6 days of winter vacation days or the 24 summer vacation days I get from my full-time job. Even tho my work week is from Monday-Friday my vacation days also count in the Saturdays of my vacation time. In Finland, where I work, a year can have from seven to eleven public holidays. Those mostly switch around the public holidays around the end of December, but Easter always has that free Friday and Monday so it’s always a guaranteed long weekend or perfect to be combined with my winter vacation days to enjoy a 11-12 day trip. Especially if it’s a late Easter it’s the perfect time to go ride bikes around the Mediterranean Sea. So I normally tend to do a longer adventure during Easter time and then another one later in the summer somewhere above the Arctic Circle. As a person who doesn’t own a car or have a driving license I tend to use public transportation or fly if I am on a strict schedule.
Me joining the Arctic by Cycle launch from a bird tower while riding on whe routes back in 2022.
Around midsummer of 2022 Bikeland.fi launched their Arctic By Cycle bikepacking route network located above the Arctic Circle, mostly in the Finnish Lapland. For the launch I was riding two gravel loops under the midnight sun in Eastern Finnish Lapland for 5 days, but there was one route that had awoken the burning desire of adventure in my mind and soul. The Arctic Post Road Mtb route, a 430 km 8-10 day singletrack heavy route starting from Kolari, Finland (the most northern train station in Finland) and passing thru Arctic National Parks and Wilderness areas to the border with Norway where it follows the centuries old Norwegian post road all the way to the shores of Arctic Sea in the town of Alta, Norway. I have always enjoyed traversing the Arctic Wilderness by bike ever since my first trip from Ivalo thru the Kaldoaivi wilderness to the small island of Vardo, Norway in the Arctic Sea back in 2016. After that my Arctic adventures have become an annual thing since 2020, under the adventure of #fjellorfall taking me to Eastern and Western Finnish Lapland wilderness areas. The Arctic Post Road MTB route felt like it ticked all my boxes.
So in autumn of 2022 I started planning on doing the route in late August of 2023, as it should be the most optimal time to do it. In the middle of the summer the Arctic is the Kingdom of Rääkkä for 4-6 weeks, a time when the air is black with mosquitos, horse-flies and black flies and the summer is normally at its warmest, so wearing fully covering clothing to protect yourself against the Rääkkä isn’t the most enjoyable thing. Of course Rääkkä tends to be worst in moist areas, like bogs or near rivers but in the treeless fells where the wind blows you might enjoy your stay. Early in the summer can be a bit tricky, as the snow is still melting in the start of June and by midsummer the rivers might still be flowing with all the melting snow and the ground will be wet and muddy. Besides these factors, going at the end of August or start of September means getting a mostly insect free trip but the midnight sun of the Arctic Summer is gone too and instead you have darker nights. With darker nights also arrive the growing changes of seeing the Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights. The day temperatures are also quite pleasant for bikepacking and the nights might dip close to 0°C, but winter normally arrives in October.
January of 2023 arrived and I booked my vacation days from work. A 6 vacation day trip during Easter to go bikepacking the Montsec Bikepacking route in Catalonia, 13 vacation days around midsummer to do a 5 day backpacking trip in Käsivarsi Wilderness area in Finnish Lapland and 8 vacations days to do the Arctic Postal Road Mtn route and then saved a few to add for the next winter vacation.
Easter came, I flew to Catalonia, rode the route, had fun and enjoyed riding my father’s homeland for the first time. No problems at all, it went perfect, Then midsummer arrived and we spend 5 days in the Wilderness mostly under the never ending sun that that doesn’t go down even for the night. A fun trip and came out with a really good tan. No problems, just good times. Spring and summer also saw some weekend adventures, so it wasn’t like I didn’t get to enjoy spending time outdoors in 2023. But at the start of 2023 I got news that made me need my adventure on the Arctic Post Road.
Even if one adventure was denied in 2023, I still spent 8 days bikepacking the Montsec area in Catalunya and hiking 5 days in the Arctic Käsivarsi Wilderness in Finnnish Lapland.
At the start of the year my mom was diagnosed with terminal stage lung cancer. Doctors said that if the treatment worked she would have 12-24 months to live. If the treatment didn’t work she would have 5-12 months to live. She started the treatments and all was fine until May, when her body just could not handle the treatment and her condition got worse. Finland celebrates Mother's Day on the second Sunday of May and I saw my mum after the treatments in the garden at her place. The treatment had left her with baby hair and she looked so fragile. It was the moment that the reality of the situation hit me really hard, that my mum won’t probably see another Mother’s Day or even Christmas.
For me going on adventures into the Arctic wilderness had always been about a few things. Experiencing nature as pure as possible and feeling the joy of adventure, the challenges that the terrain would bring me and maybe most importantly just being there with my thoughts and emotions. To lay on the ground and hear no sound made by mankind, only the wind blowing and watching the world go by. Forgetting even for a small moment the stress of life and the rules that people make to control other people. A place to have conversations with myself about the good and bad things and to let nature heal me. To charge up my batteries and find joy in the small things. With the situation of my mum, this trip to the Arctic Post Road had become from an adventure to a needed nature therapy session.
The route is a one-way route. Getting to Kolari from Helsinki was easy, just hop on a night train with the bike. Getting back from Alta to Kolari was trickier. No straight public transportation or taxi services, but Alta does have an airport. I thought that it would make sense to fly first to Alta, ride the route in reverse and then take a train back home from Kolari. Sounds like a solid plan, so I bought tickets. To get from Helsinki to Alta I had to first fly to Stockholm, Sweden. From there to Oslo, Norway and then to Alta. So I bought flights for the 1st of September and paid extra to bring my bike with me. Nothing I haven’t done before. The idea was to pack the bike in a cardboard box and take all my bikepacking bags and gear in a 50 liter drybag as luggage. The plan was to arrive in Alta, pack the bike and recycle the cardboard box at the airport and start riding the route, stopping in Alta to get gas for my stove and spend the first night on route. A solid plan.
Two weeks before my flights I badly bruised three ribs in my back on a cabin trip with my friends, so badly that my partner had to put socks and shoes on my feet for 4 days. I saw the doctor who just said, they will heal in time and If I don’t mind the pain too much I could leave for my adventure. I asked if the doctor would go if he would have been in my situation and he said yes, so I was convinced that a little physical pain will not stop this trip, it would just add to the amount of fun type 2 of the trip.
Just moments before checking my bike in Helsinki and not knowing it will stay in Helsinki.
September 1st arrived. Everything was test packed and packed up. The GPS route was downloaded to my phone and GPS unit. Adventure was in the air. I arrived at Helsinki-Vantaa airport in good time before the flight early in the morning. I checked in my luggage and bike box, went through security and as always I went to the only bar in Finland that can sell you a beer before 9 am, the Oak Barrel inside the terminal. A bit of superstitious preflight tradition of mine. Boarding started and I got inside the plane on my seat. I sat there for 45 minutes, because the planes engine had some mechanical problems. I had 45 minutes in Stockholm before my flight to Oslo would depart, so I had missed my first connection flight to Oslo even before I had left Helsinki.
Arrived to Stockholm missing my connecting flight to Oslo, but got a new one one hour later. Arrived to Oslo 2 hours before my flight to Alta would depart. As I sat at the gate looking at the loading of the plane I saw my bright yellow drybag that contained all my gear. It had to mean by bike was also made it thru the connecting flights. I boarded the last plane, the plane that once landed would mark the start of my adventure. The adventure that challenge me physically and help me go thru all my feelings that involved the the death of mom in the near future.
The plane landed to the pretty small airport in Alta. I walked to the luggage area and waited and waited. After waiting 30 minutes my drybag arrived, one done one to come. I waited 25 minutes more and the luggage line stopped. No bike, okay maybe it is in the backroom where I saw another passenger pick up their bike. I knocked on the door and asked for my bike. The employee said that there was no bike. Shit I thought to myself, now it happened, the airline lost my bike. I walked to the Lost luggage desk and a nice worker made some calls, said that they have no idea where it is but it might come on the next flight tomorrow. I filled up a lost luggage application on the Scandivian Airlines Service, took my drybag and hopped on the airport bus towards the center of Alta and checked in to the hotel for the night.
The 50 liter drybag with one strap wasn’t the most comfy to carry, but it was meant only to be carried to the plane and of the plane.
The next day I checked out of the hotel, went to the airport with my drybag. My bike hadn’t arrived with that flight either and I hadn’t heard anything from the airline. So back to town, I booked another night at the hotel. Spent a day walking around the town, having a beer at the shoreline and shooting a meme. Came Sunday and again I went to the airport. Still no bike and no word from the SAS airline. This time the person at the service desk said they would call Stockholm and Helsinki Airports to see if they would find the bike. So I booked another night at the hotel, and at this point I had lost 3 out of 9 days that I had to ride the Arctic Post Road route. If the bike would arrive on Monday I would have had only 5 days to ride the route. Not enough time to do it at my pace and my style. So I bought a return flight to Helsinki for the next day.
First evening in Alta. The weather matched my state of mind, grey and cloudy. The beer was okay tho.
Enjoyed a beer while sitting on the rocky shore and gazing at the fells around the bay. Wasn’t a bad spot for a beer at all.
I met a fellow bike traveller on Sunday as I was walking back from the airport. He had started from Southern Sweden, made it to Alta and now planned on riding thru Finland, hopping over the bond to Tallinn and riding back to Barcelona where he lives, while working remotely. A good way of life in my opinion.
The next morning I got an email from the Helsinki Airport. They had found the bike. It had never left Helsinki in the first place. I was frustrated, mad and sad at the same time. I had spent 4 days for nothing, trapped in this small town with a narrow minded attitude that everything was ruined. My adventure and healing was denied, just because somebody forgot to put my bike on a plane in the first place. As I was waiting at the airport gate I saw a rainbow and it made me smile a bit. 13 hours later I was back home in Helsinki and the next day my bike was delivered home.
In the end I had a long expensive weekend in a hotel in a small town on the shores of the Arctic Sea. I watched a lot of movies, I cried and thinked a lot of stuff about my mom. I played different scenarios in my head, like buying a bike and riding the route or buying a backpack and hike the surrounding areas or that I should had put an Airtag or something similar into the bike box so I would have known that the bike was still in Helsinki. I was angry and sad that some stupid megacorporation had denied me an adventure I had waited for so long. I was mad at myself for not getting a driver's license so I could had rented a car and done a roadtrip in northern Norway.
A beer, fells and the Arctic Sea are a good combo to start reflecting on things before jumping on a plane.
But as I was watching the rainbow and having a beer in the airport in Alta before flying back home, I saw beauty in this place I had hated for the past days. I felt ashamed of my anger and selfishness. In the end all I did lose was the money I spent on the hotel room and the return flights. Didn’t even lose much money, because my travel insurance paid me back for the hotel nights too. The route wasn’t going to vanish, my bike wasn’t lost and still would have more vacation days the next day. I could always return here and try to do it again. I was in a privileged position to have vacation days, to have enough money that I could fly to another country with a bicycle and ride a route for 9 days. I had the most understanding partner who let me use a bulk of my vacation days into a trip by myself. There are many people who don’t have the time, money or a situation in life where they can go and have a multi day adventure away from home. I didn’t even lose any time in the end, because sitting alone in the hotel room and letting tears fall down my cheeks I had started to work on the fact that my mom would pass away soon and there was nothing I could do about it.
Sunday, 3 days before my mom passed away I was camping on an island in the Baltic Sea with my friends where most of us had done their military service over a decade ago. On that Sunday I got the call to get to the hospital to say goodbye to my mom. As the ferry would had left the island back to the mainland too late, we hired a speedboat so I could make it in time to say goodbye. I did and I was thankful for my friend for it.
6 weeks after coming home my mom passed away surrounded by loved ones with a peaceful smile on her face in the hospital. After that I saw a therapist that helped me deal with the death of my mom. As I write this I have already booked 3 weeks of my summer 2024 vacation days to do the Arctic Post Road MTB route at the end of August. But I am not flying this time. I will take the night train to Kolari and ride to Alta and back to Kolari, so in total do 860 km of bikepacking above the Arctic Circle. 860 of enjoying challenges and let my emotions run wild.
2023 denied me the adventure I needed, but it helped to remember how lucky I am even to be able to have adventures…and next time I am flying with a bike I am putting a tracker inside the box.
]]>First off, obviously, the weight is a big selling point. It is so lightweight that it’s easy for it to get lost in your pack. As for any shelter that is going to be used in inclement weather, you want to make sure it’s seam-sealed. This will ensure water does not come seeping through the seams when it’s in shelter mode, but also so when in poncho mode, it keeps your body and pack dry. Setting up the tarp is quite easy unless you’re on a ridge and the wind is howling 50+mph, ha. I have found that it doesn’t really matter what corners you stake out first, as long as you give each corner enough slack, so it has enough give as the trekking pole is being inserted. Once the shelter is up, there is not much adjusting that needs to be done, which is nice. The Cape requires six stakes; however, I added two guylines on each side to give myself some more headroom and some more room at the end of the tent as well. You can bring two more stakes, or you can just tie one to the other trekking pole and one to a tree, depending on where you decide to put up the shelter. The tip of the trekking pole fits into a metal ring at the top of the shelter that is held on by a couple of mini snaps. This gives the shelter great support from all sides. I have had it in some pretty intense windstorms and that thing didn’t budge once. The top of the shelter has a pull cord, which is the synch for the hood of the cape. I found that when in shelter mode, you can totally open that hood up for better ventilation, but you obviously wouldn’t want to do this if it was raining. As someone who avidly backpacks with their dog, I was pleasantly surprised with the amount of room in the shelter, even with the vestibule all the way zippered shut. I was able to fit all my gear inside quite nicely. Now, if you combine the Cape with the Serenity Net, you will lose some floor space. The inside of the shelter is minimal, but there is a little stash pocket that I found works as a great stake bag holder as well as a good place to stash the headlamp. There was a day on the CDT that I spent a full 24 hours in the shelter due to a crazy rainstorm, and I was very comfortable.
When pulling the Gatewood Cape out to use in poncho mode, it works pretty slick. The little snaps on the top of the tent are easy to undo when it starts to rain. A little pro-tip: if you know it’s going to be a rainy day when you put the shelter away when breaking camp, go ahead and unsnap the clips before you stash it so when you’re pulling the Cape out, you don’t waste time getting soaked trying to get things unsnapped. My hands get really cold in the rain, and I found that this worked great for me. My favorite thing about the Cape in poncho mode is that it covers not only your whole body down to your calves, but also covers your whole pack. The cinch hood is a great addition to keep water off your shirt or jacket. There are armholes in the cape, but I found that it worked great always keeping my arms inside the Cape. Because the material is silicone-nylon, I would NOT wear the Cape in poncho mode to do any sort of bushwhacking. You’ll find that the bottom of the cape gets caught on little sticks here and there while hiking, but I have never had an issue with getting any sort of knicks in the material. When packing up the Cape after using it as a shelter or as a poncho, it fits perfectly inside the internal stash pocket. You can just zip it up and forget about it. Since it packs up so small, you can easily attach it to the outside of your pack to let it dry when you continue hiking. It even works as a great little pillow when it’s packed up.
Overall, the Gatewood Cape is a great 2-in-1 shelter/poncho combination for any adventure.
]]>
I can only imagine some of the feelings you must be feeling. And all those questions: Is my pack light enough? Boots or trail runners? Will it rain in Maine? Will I get sick of ramen? Are two pairs of underwear too many?
Will I make it?
I can offer you a story. Maybe it will give those butterflies in your belly something to land on.
The first time I went for a big hike on the Appalachian trail, my gear wasn’t even an afterthought. I didn’t yet know what I didn’t know. Yet I knew the pull—that nameless one, the one that took me thousands of trail miles to cultivate and recognize. It’s what you feel when you see an apple pie cooling off on the kitchen counter. It’s not necessarily the delight that it promises, but that it evokes something far more profound, like the homesickness for a place that you feel in the settled hush when you close your eyes and take deep, deliberate breath.
The Welsh have a word for this: Hiraeth. Sometimes it’s a longing for a place. Other times it’s an empty chair and a full plate you set aside at the feast for someone you miss.
Mine was for something I didn’t yet know.
It happened this way.
Three friends who met at an Irish literature class in university had the week off. One of the friends had a car. There was some Guinness involved and a wedding in Dayton, Ohio, a day’s drive from Toronto. The Smoky Mountains National Park was another day’s drive and the weather gods were in fine spirits. We decided on a three-day hike and I was ecstatic.
Now, I have never put on a backpack and hiked before and three days were a long time to be out in the woods. I went to the nearest Canadian army supply store and bought myself a Norwegian military rucksack. I didn’t really know about sleep systems or base layers or water filters. I found a 4-person tent at Walmart, then went to the nearest Chinese supermarket and picked up a few pounds of dried fish, because, you know, protein, and several bags of mung-bean threads. I had volunteered to be in charge of our camp dinners.
My friend brought the 16 oz Coleman propane canister and a screw-in stove top. I was prepared to cook gourmet dried-fish noodle soup on open fire the entire time. This was high tech. I was pretty impressed. Although Dwight and Perry had recently invented the Jetboil, I had a habit of avoiding dedicated outdoor stores and outfitters. Outdoor stores featuring super fit outdoorsy people pursuing super fit outdoorsy activities intimidated me. The entire space, the advertisements, the models, the price tags, sometimes even the indifferent staff, felt like it was made for others more affluent, experienced, possibly less melanated than I was. –I didn't really feel like I belonged in that type of space. Sometimes, to some folk, access to gear and the outdoors isn’t so simple nor straightforward as going to the nearest outdoor retailer.
In retrospect, we were pretty lucky to have remembered to bring plenty of snacks. But I digress.
The wedding was a lot of fun. We even danced in the streets and I discovered the joy of live bluegrass music. We hit the road the next day only slightly hungover. We felt that a pit stop at a KFC in Kentucky is requisite. Even though this was ill-advised everything felt novel. I have never been south of New York before and here we were in bluegrass country: home to Tennessee BBQ, Ripley’s Aquarium of the Smokies, Dollywood and the legend herself. It was like walking through the wardrobe and into Narnia, except, of course, it was summertime in the Appalachia.
That evening, at an all you-can-eat buffet at Shorny’s, we traced out a 41 km loop on a paper map—that’s nearly 25 miles for the Americans: then the longest expedition of my unsullied life in the big city—albeit a Canadian big city—as a twenty-something.
I remember walking into the Sugarlands Visitor Center to get a permit and feeling simultaneously starstruck and a bit ridiculous. I mean: people knew what they were doing. Some of them had machetes, some had long lengths of rope and backpacks that looked nothing like mine that probably didn’t see any combat action in the frozen tundra of Scandinavia anyway. Someone asked the ranger about the visiting hours for the bears. I felt that we were in for the wilderness trip of my life, truly.
What I remember most about that pre-trip orientation though was the ranger telling us to pay attention to the light. “Relax your eyes and let them adapt to the cool, green, dappling light,” she intoned and she may as well have spoken from a pulpit: “ you’ll see a lot more than you think you might.” To this day, I remind myself to pause or keep myself awake for those liminal hours when the alchemy of light can recast and transform the landscape--and with it your place in that fleeting magnificence.
I struggled on the hike. I was caboose the whole trip and was grateful that my friends weren’t proponents of the F-U stops. A couple of times, I spilled all of our dinners. I took many breaks on the climbs. On our first night in the woods, we heard a twig snap in the twilight. As if on cue we all shouted and hollered at what was surely bigfoot or at least a sleuth of ravenous black bears not respecting the intended visiting hours the gentlemen earlier had asked about. I am not sure if we scared anything else but we did a good job of scared ourselves. We took turns peeing around the tent, just to be sure.
On the second day, we reached Clingman’s dome. I hadn’t expected there to be so many cars; nor did I realise you could have simply driven here. Nevertheless, I still felt accomplished and was beaming when I caught up with my friends atop the spiral pathway.
I’ll never forget the incredulous, dismayed look I received from a South Asian family that day. Mother, father and their teenaged children, a boy and a girl, had driven up to this spot and were engaged in a conversation with my friends about the hike. “They looked at you like you were from another planet, with that silly army surplus pack of yours and a tent strap to it at the bottom,” my friend said to me years later. The family couldn’t believe that someone who looked like their nephew had walked through the forest, slept in on the ground, drank water from the streams, and had hiked all of 25 miles to a parking lot. By choice. They couldn’t believe it. To them, I may as well have been the bigfoot we didn’t see the night prior. Their incredulity told a fundamental story about the perceptions and realities of who belongs in these spaces. I would come to know this story rather intimately, near the midpoint on my Appalachian trail thru hike, when I’d spend a night at a reputed station on the underground railroad on the 4th of July at Furnace Grove, PA.
I’d meet six thru hikers who weren’t white on my northbound thru hike in 2013 on the Appalachian trail. It’d take several more years for the first person of colour, at least on record, to complete The Triple Crown.
That night, however, I didn’t care about any of this, nor had the energy to unpack this moment. Diversity wasn’t yet a hashtag. Social and media were separate words not yet a portmanteau; and Guthook was an intrepid hiker with a cool idea-- and I am not sure if he was ever prone to saying far out, man. Besides, I didn’t know that thuhiking was a thing. I didn’t even know that I had been hiking the fabled Appalachian Trail. I was tired, hungry and just way too excited to spend the night at a genuine shelter for genuine backcountry people.
The hikers kicked us out of the shelter, of course. Trail Dawgs, as the young men called themselves, were thru hikers. They had hiked 12 miles that day and were going to Canada. There was a young woman there as well. She was finishing a section hike as part of a multi year thru hike. People were really going to Canada. On foot. This is possible. This was amazing.
I can’t recall the rest of that evening or much of the conversation around the campfire. I do remember walking out of my tent in the middle of the night to look at the night sky. There was to be a meteor shower that night, but we were in the Smoky Mountains and it was quite overcast. I imagined what the night sky must look like beyond those clouds. I stood there for a long time until I had goosebumps. I knew it wasn’t just the cold creeping in. By the time my breath turned to mist, something ineffable had slipped within me. I peed in the woods, zipped up my Fila jacket and crawled back into the tent.
The next morning, as I spilled our lunch yet again in the parking lot, something wonderful happened. A stranger walked over to us crouched next to my spilt fish soup, and proceeded to make peanut butter fluff sandwiches. She asked if any of us would consider thruhiking the AT some day. I said I'll look her up if I do. Five years later, I was at the Arches at Amicalola, one day before my birthday with one goal: make it to a white blaze.
I found Phoenix Rising in Maine. She had stayed with Honey and Bear’s Cabin in the Woods earlier that year to help out and had left one of her books behind. It was A Memoir of a Geisha. It is not usually the sort of book I’d pick out, let alone randomly, out of the hundreds of books that were available to me that day. As I flipped through the pages, I came across a note she left: Dear hiker, you made it this far. Keep going – Phoenix Rising. That day, as is custom, it rained in Maine. It had been a sodden week and nobody wanted to hike. Ever attuned to the general mood in the hostel and the state of hiker finances at this point of the long walk, Bear walked into the common room and proclaimed that he would strike a bargain with us: One dollar to stay the extra night and all you can eat pancakes for breakfast. When I finally met her again in person, I was on my third thru hike: the Ariona Trail. Phoenix told me then that we looked like a sorry bunch staring at spilt soup and that she just had to help. Phoenix Rising is still my friend and my very first trail angel. When she dropped off at my last resupply point on the AZT, she gave me a little birthday gift: another peanut butter fluff sandwich. The trail shows itself to be magic in so many ways.
In 2013 I completed the Appalachian Trail. The hike changed me in ways I didn’t or couldn’t anticipate. The people I met along the way are still some of the best people I know. And nearly 9000 trail miles later, Katahdin is still the perfect mountain.
The trail taught me to trust my instincts, that people can reveal their absolute best and their worst in unexpected ways. It taught me to say yes to the next step even if you don’t really know where you might end up. It taught me to carry the weight and showed me how to let go.
And this year, like Bilbo: I want to see the mountains, Gandalf. To be there; And back again.
More than a decade later, the thought of walking through the hallowed arches at Amicalola State Park still gives me goosebumps. Things are a bit different this time around, of course. I know my pain thresholds; I know my sleep system; I know how to make the most delicious, nutrient and calorie packed sate noodles from ingredients sourced from lonesome gas stations. I definitely know how many footsteps I can eke out from a pocket full of peanuts. I know my body, and I know my mind. I know how to be alone and enjoy my own company.
But: I can’t tell you how to pack your bag for things that you don’t yet know. I can’t tell you how many miles you need to crush or what brand of footwear will get you to the terminus. There’s really no such thing. So much of this stuff is quite personal. You’ll come to see that. No one will hike the miles for you. You can never hike away from yourself. The trail will catch up to you, whether you want it to or not. You walk a path and a trajectory of your choosing. If you are patient, humble and receptive the trail will teach you. There is no one magic formula for a thru hike.
The Appalachian trail remains one of the most difficult trails I’ve yet hiked and also one of the most forgiving and generous. It will be one of your greatest teachers and, if you are lucky, among the great romances of your life. The trail is the magic.
In the meantime, bring your baggage, so that when you are ready, you can learn to let go and carry your weight. Trust me, you’ll unpack things in due time when it’s all done.
I can’t wait to see you out there. I am rooting for you.
In story and stride,
Swani Bittergoat
AT, AZT, PCT, CDT (Montana) – US |WCT, GDT– Canada| Te Araroa ( Aoteoroa / New Zealand)
]]>Fast forward to September 2023, and I’m doing the ranger thing in Zion National Park in Utah. The work is dreamy, but after a summer spent in the desert heat, I was daydreaming about the cooler temps and alpine lakes that Rocky had offered. So I decided it was time for a late summer trip. I snagged a cheap flight, packed my bags, and made my way to Colorado.
As a park ranger, It’s a real treat to take the uniform off and be a tourist in a National Park. I was looking forward to drinking beer, floating around the lake, and doing a whole lot of nothing; all things I rarely had time to do when I was there the summer prior. Rocky is littered with beautiful alpine lakes. So many, it was tough to decide where I wanted to spend a couple of days. I landed on Ypsilon Lake. A step nine mile out and back hike to a campsite not too far from the water, with plenty of trout and side hikes to keep me busy.
I was dropped off early that morning by a great friend of mine I had met the summer prior (thanks Anna!). Fresh homemade burrito in hand, I started up the trail around 6:30. I don’t fancy myself a morning person, but I do enjoy a good sunrise hike. I was happy to feel the cold on my skin, but quickly warmed up as I climbed along the Roaring River. The mixed conifer forest would occasionally give way to expansive views of the Mummy Range, an area I had grown particularly fond of the summer prior. I did my best to soak it all in. The smells. The sounds— all so different than where I was coming from. I cruised along, excited to see the site, get camp set up, and make my way to the lake.
I arrived at camp mid-morning. Setting up camp was a piece of cake. The Haven TentNet and Tarp set-up is straightforward, though I’d recommend watching the handy video provided by Six Moons before your first attempt. Rain can come out of nowhere on the continental divide, so I made sure everything was extra secure before grabbing my packraft and fishing gear and heading down to the lake.
This was my first time using my PR pack for this purpose, and it’s clear that this is a purpose-built product. What shocked me most was how easy it was for me to empty my pack of base camp items, reconfigure with what I needed for a day trip, and have a pack that felt just as comfortable and secure filled to the brim as it did holding a quarter of its capacity. The pack has enough straps for functional adjustment, while not being overwhelming. On my hike up, I was packed pretty darn full. Standard backpacking gear, plus fishing gear, a packraft, pfd, and a collapsible paddle. It’s a lot, but the Flex PR was up for the challenge and truly delivered. It felt super comfy on the hike up and never felt like it was too empty or flopping everywhere when I took a bunch out. Needless to say, I was pretty stoked about that.
The next two days consisted of a whole lot of wind, some rain, plenty of beer, and fishing when the weather allowed. I was able to use the dry bag from my Flex PR to store my daily necessities while floating around the lake, and of course during the rain. While the conditions were far from optimal for the whole fishing/packrafting pipe dream I had, it allowed me time to hunker down in my tent, read, journal, and slow down. And even throughout the wind and rain, I stayed dry and cozy in my little Haven.
It's easy to take these beautiful places for granted after working in them for a while. The trip helped me remember how lucky I am to call these parks home for a slice of time each summer, whether it be in the desert of Utah or the mountains of Colorado. Our National Parks are a real gem and deserve to be treated as such.
]]>My personal opinion of his trip is that actually, it was a success in many ways, although we were not able to complete the run. I also believe that an objective analysis of both incidents can attribute those incidents to the water level being too high. There are two locations where we realistically should have called the trip off and turned around. One location was when Aaron and Ted decided they were not going on the trip on Sunday night. Two out of seven people bailing is a solid indicator of sketchy decision-making. We were sitting around in Aaron's living room discussing the merits of a high-water trip versus bailing. They decided it was out of their comfort zone. They are cautious people by nature, and it was the right choice.
The other location where we should have called the trip off was once we were at the downed trees on the road to put in. The two large hardwood trees presented a significant challenge which I considered to be insurmountable given the size of our chainsaw bar and the skill that I have with a chainsaw. Josh however was skilled enough to cut the tree and then use his truck to pull it out of the road. This tree removal cost us a full hour or more on a day when we knew we were already racing daylight. Even if we had cut the tree fully out of the road, this is another turning point where it would have been smart to call the trip off.
Some things we did well at those two turning points was that the entire group was fully engaged in the decision-making process to continue going and we were fully aware of the types of consequences that a high water trip would entail. Mainly the increased hazard of log portages in swift water, the potential for long swims, and the possibility of losing boats or having to hike out. There was no peer pressure from any member for us to continue the trip at the expense of other members. We all accepted that it would be an adventure and we all committed to working together as a group to complete the trip.
Should we have gone?
In hindsight, after having lost the raft, which had phones, wallets, and camping gear in it… I should have called the trip off due to high water. Knowing what I know now, I would not have gone. Jeremiah, whose raft it is, said he still would have gone because he was able to learn so much and because of the camaraderie and the success that we did feel in accomplishing the reconnaissance on the logistics and feel for the run. We learned a lot about working together, and our group dynamic was amazing. We also learned a lot about how to pack for a winter trip where weight is a serious consideration as is what you're going to need to survive as a group in this wet backcountry setting. We learned about which things are truly essentials, and should be carried on your person and not in your boat. We learned about our risk assessment systems and our tolerance levels for risk and adversity. Overall I would of course not recommend the trip we did to anyone else. After I go back in with half as much water, then we shall see if it deserves to be put on the “fun” list from Chrome Creek down. It takes a certain type of person to want to bushwack and brushsurf and logjam portage and suffer-fest in the rain all night. I guess I'm that kind of person. And surprisingly there are others out there who are as well. I will say when planning this trip that I was very clear in my expectations that everyone would have sufficient overnight survival gear. Thank goodness. I also turned away people who were interested in going on this trip with us, but whom either I did not know personally, have not boated with, or did not assess their skill set to be sufficient for the unknown and difficult stretch ahead. Those people who I turned away all took it in good spirit and agreed with me that it was for the best. Which I appreciate from them.
Another huge takeaway is what an amazing community the people of Gasquet are. They were so excited to go on a boat-finding mission and so willing to come pick us up from the middle of nowhere. We of course paid our shuttle drivers, but man what an adventure to ask them to undertake for really what is not that much money.
To avoid endangering others, I did try to mitigate the possibility of search and rescue being called on us, by communicating extensively with people who are quote “in the know” about the type of mission we were doing and the type of skill set that this crew has. A self-extraction was our plan B, and realistically there's nothing search and rescue could have done for us that we couldn't do for ourselves. I talked to Sylvia who owns the cabin at Major Moore's. She was fully advised that if we did not show up, it did not constitute an emergency and she should not expect to hear from us potentially for another day or two. My contacts with the outside world all went well through the In Reach device. Josh brought a battery charger so that we could make sure our phones and satellite devices were capable of being used continuously for our hike out. We were able to track our progress on the map and locate our logging road which was our egress point with no problem. The In-Reach was slow to work in the canyon but eventually, all the messages went through. I was really happy with how well our hike out was executed. That route is a great way to get back in as well.
Heuristic traps: Commitment and Scarcity
The primary heuristic trap that affected our group decision-making was the momentum of the trip, which we would call “Commitment.” The Ludlum house was the last night of the season that we would be able to rent it. We had already paid for it. We had driven pretty far. We had taken the time off work. We hired the shuttle driver and dragged Tom out there at 5 in the morning. We had cut the tree out of the road. We wanted to see something epic.
The flow window is dependent on winter storms, and sometimes winter storms snow in the north fork, so this early-season winter storm was hard to pass up on. The scarcity of the flow window is a factor, even though our flow window wasn't perfect, we were at least in the general correct idea of a flow window that had peaked and was then dropping.
Even being aware of these heuristic traps and talking about them, still wanting to go on the trip was an interesting conclusion to come to. I do feel like there came a point where we could have turned back when we saw the put-in water level, but it just seemed too difficult to hike back up the hill. At that point, we were committed and I think we had falsely told ourselves that putting in could still be a turnaround point. We could still call the trip off when we got to the put-in. But realistically I think the last point we could have called the trip off was during the drive-in. In the future, being realistic about my last turnaround point is important.
The gear
I have maybe never been so wet in my life, it is just as wet on the inside of a dry suit as it is on the outside of a dry suit when you're carrying a heavy load down a steep bank in the rain. I started with wet base layers from using a chainsaw on the road in the pouring rain. Then I put on a dry suit over a fleece base layer, wearing neoprene hydro skin pants on the bottom and a nano puff on top. This is my go-to winter boating outfit for very cold and wet conditions. I knew I would sweat in it, but I chose to wear it anyway, figuring it would be easier to carry on my body than in my bag. In retrospect, I probably would have worn regular pants and a shirt for the hike, let them get completely soaked, and then had the dry fleece onesie to put on at put in. It would have been extra difficult to carry the dry suit and onesie in my dry bag which was already full of overnight gear, but I think it would have been worth it.
The other thing I did was put Carhartt overalls on top of my dry suit to protect it from pinholes in the brush. The Carhartts worked great, but when I got to the put-in in they were soaking wet and extremely heavy and I had no way to dry them out. They added several pounds to my pack which I now had to carry downstream and over log portages, and eventually back up the mountain for our hike out. Wearing something lightweight that I could ring the water out of would have been a better choice.
The Six Moon Designs Flex pack was great, I was able to put the kayak rolled up in a vertical position against my back, and then my tube-shaped dry bag on the outside. I strapped my life jacket to the top of it all. I was a little worried about the cinnamon roll end of my inflatable kayak sticking out the bottom of the pack, it is exposed to potential puncture or tear when I was scooting on my butt down the hill. The other things I liked about this pack were the shoulder strap pockets. I was able to put my In Reach device and my camera each in one pocket and then my water bottle had a pocket on the side. The hip belt adjustment system worked nicely for me too, my pack was stable. It didn't wobble side to side too much.
Jeremiah had a lot more trouble getting his pack to work because all of his straps were not able to reach around his boat. His boat being a raft did not roll as well as my IK. He made it generally into a big cube shape and it wasn't stable from left to right. I will say I've been using this pack for loads that exceed the recommended weight capacity, and the material has begun to tear in several places. I'll take some photos of the failure points so that the awesome team over at Six Moon Designs can work on strengthening them.
Some things I wish I had brought with me on this trip: my Tyvek ground cloth, which would have been better than the bivy sack as an emergency shelter for loaning to my friends. I brought the bivy as an extra, I had planned to sleep under my Six Moon Designs tent fly in my IK as my air mattress. But the reality was that the humidity in the air was so high that getting inside a bivy sack was pretty darn wet due to the evaporation of the human body. It would have been more comfortable I think to have a ground moisture barrier as a plan B sleeping situation. I have the Tyvek ground tarp that came with my Six Moon Designs ambassador package, and I will use that next time. I also think that when packing for a trip like this, it is important that all your maps and communication devices be kept on your person instead of in your boat, given how fast the boat got away from us and how far downstream it went. If our only navigating devices had been in that boat, we would have been very sad. I had intensively researched the satellite imagery of our chosen section ahead of time, I knew where the logging roads were rough, I knew where the clear-cuts were and the easier locations for walking. However, I'll tell you what. It's a great feeling to be able to look at an actual map and see your current GPS location regarding those egress points. My phone had all the maps downloaded ahead of time and that together with my In Reach I kept on the inside of my dry suit while we were paddling. Things I did not keep inside my dry suit but should have included a lighter and a Duralog. Given the extremely wet situation. I think that as a group someone should have had access to probably a lighter per person and a Dural log or some kind of fire starter for every two people. The fire was key for our comfort that night spending it out there in the rainstorm. During summer trips, it would not be as much of a consideration.
]]>This is where the final deciding accident of our trip occurred. Getting to shore felt like a must-make move since we could not see how much of the tree was in play in the class IV rapid below us. The raft instead of coming in to land where I was ready to grab them came in below me and both R2 partners reached for the branches on shore instead of continuing to paddle until they were against the land. Grabbing those branches caused the front of their raft to dip down and water to spill in, skyrocketing the raft out from under them, they decided in that split second to cling to the shore and save them themselves instead of trying to hang on to the raft or get in it as it went. The empty raft had an excellent clean line through the rapid, I dare say it styled it. It went left of the big skewer log and peaked through a V wave that was crashing, then it went right of two big pour-over boulders, then it disappeared out of view very swiftly. While this was happening, I was grabbing Kelcy and her hard shell kayak as she landed. I handed my kayak to Chris to hold on to while I helped Kelcy. Josh had been able to eddy out higher up and was managing his boat well. I gave Chris and Jeremiah the go-ahead to start working downstream and looking for their lost boat. We did not have time to make a full plan about what would happen next if they found their boat or if it was gone forever. Chris was in such a rush that he threw my paddle into my IK and it bounced out into the river and also went downstream, never to be recovered. Sad. I had brought a breakdown backup though. Which would leave us with no spare double blades at this point. Chris and Jeremiah still had their T grips.
The Decision to Hike Out
At that moment I called after Chris and Jeremiah to stay together as they left us. We brought all of our kayaks onto shore at the bottom of the slope and we had a meeting about what our next move would be as a group. As Kelcy had pulled to shore and I grabbed her, she had said definitively, "We have to hike out." And I said, “I know.” We were talking about the character of the run, which had just changed from manageable to dangerous in my opinion. With flows doubling at Chrome Creek, any class IV rapids at this flow were going to carry class V consequences like flush drowning or swimming into wood. We knew from Zach Collier’s write-up that there was a big rapid awaiting us near the bottom of the run. We aren’t willing to risk it. Now that the raft was missing, it was a bit of a relief to know we would be hiking out anyway. Even if the raft was recovered, we called it then and there. I got on the In Reach and started sending out texts to let people know we would be spending the night at Chrome Creek and that we needed the truck brought back to put in the next day.
The accident that caused us to lose the raft happened right after we had begun looking for camping. The point at which we had accepted that we would be camping out here was at the first log jam portage after we saw how long it took. It was lucky that Chrome Creek coming in on river left turned around Jeremiah and Chris from continuing downstream to look for their lost raft. At that point, we had an hour of daylight left to us after the raft incident. They spent half an hour hiking down and back to us. When Jeremiah and Chris got back, we had already decided that we would camp right there to prevent the group from becoming separated while they looked for the raft. We were working on carrying the three remaining boats and the camping gear up the hill. Josh and Kelcy were using pulleys to drive the boats up the cliff while I began to unpack my tent fly and arrange it as an overhead tarp for the group. Jeremiah and Chris began gathering firewood while we still had a little bit of ambient light.
Camping in the Rain in December
We got out Kelcy’s Duralog and my lighter and started a very small fire, I started collecting rainwater from the tarp so we could stay hydrated. Nobody was going to hike back down to the river tonight, the cliff was too dangerous and right above the rapid that we had decided was too sketchy to run anyway. We dragged my inflatable kayak under the tarp and used it as a couch, I made chili for everybody from a freeze-dried meal that Aaron Mink had prepared for me and given as a gift. We made hot tea, hung out, and tried to decide what would be the best technique for staying the warmest all night with three people's worth of camping gear (minimalist camping gear at that) for five people total. We decided that Kelcy and Josh would use Kelcy's tent fly and they each had a sleeping mat. Chris and I would share my inflatable kayak inside my sleeping bag for the night, and Jeremiah would lay on everybody's PFDs, using my extra bivy sack as a ground tarp. We were able to get the fire going just good enough to drop our dry suits down and dry our underlayers out. Nobody had a change of clothes, but Josh and Kelcy had puffy dry coats. Kelcy had Crocs lol. I had intentionally picked the warmest day of the week to do this mission, knowing full well that we might spend the night in a temperate rainforest. I did not want hypothermia to be one of our potential hazards. Everyone was warm enough and Jeremiah stayed up all night attending the fire. In the morning, we got an early start and we lowered the boats through the brush to the confluence with Chrome Creek, where the Upper North Fork had a chill enough section that we could either swim or boat across it.
Crossing the River
To cross the Upper North Fork, we decided the best technique would be to take turns paddling the inflatable kayak across, and then throw a throw rope back to the other side so that the others could pull the empty kayak back to them. Chris came through with the torpedo-style throws three out of three tries to get the bag across! At the last minute, the hard shellers decided it would be best for the group to hike out if we were to leave the hard shells behind. We left them at the confluence of the Upper North Fork and Chrome Creek, which is a very distinctive landmark and even appears to have some trails. We thought it would be better to leave them here for a return mission than to conclude that we would have to abandon them halfway up the cliff on our hike out. Making them difficult to find for later use.
Luckily there is an opening in the cliff face at the confluence of Chrome Creek. After shuttling everybody over to river-right, we put on our backpacks redistributed the remaining group gear, and started climbing. The climbing was steep but open from brush and quite beautiful and pleasant. We chose to air on the side of going towards the downstream or left-hand side of us to avoid brush. The logging road 276 we were trying to connect into was a little bit to our right and maybe a thousand vertical feet if I had to guess.
Coordinating Extraction
I used my Garmin In Reach Mini to contact Dave and let him know to please send Tom, our shuttle driver back to the spot he had last seen us. We planned to hike up to Road 276 and then take the road back to the junction, our original point of departure. I knew 276 to be impassable by truck, the satellite images showed trees growing in the center strip. Hiking out, we decided that the known last location of contact was the least likely spot for miscommunications or people getting lost. Even though perhaps it meant a little more walking for us. Everyone was in good spirits and no injuries, so a 2-mile hike on a road didn't seem like it would be a problem.
David recommended we hike down to Sourdough camp, he also tried to initiate a four-wheeler and a motorcycle to come get us. I told him NO and that we only wanted Tom with our original shuttle vehicle at our original drop-off location. We were confident we could get ourselves there. We also messaged Tom at his phone number, not realizing that he only has a flip phone and could not receive those messages. So having David as our go-between was huge. I had also contacted Babcock to let him know that we would not be making it into Major Moore's Monday night and that he need not wait for us. I let him know as well when we began our hike out and what the plan was. Everybody who was involved in helping coordinate the shuttle knew where we were and what we were doing. We tried to only keep people in the loop who needed to know, so as to not cause undue worry. Although we were on plan B, it was going well.
I've never been so happy to hear the sound of a diesel truck! Tom had left early even though we told him it would probably take us all day to hike out and to meet us near dark. We made it to the logging road and were well within a mile of our meeting location by 1:00 p.m. when we heard Tom. He had begun driving down the road using a chainsaw and a pole saw to cut brush out of the way to allow for the passage of the large diesel truck. Tom was such a sweetheart, he had brought us dry socks and dry sweaters, Vitamin Water, and beef jerky. We all changed into dry clothes and Josh started backing us out until we found a turnaround spot. Then we began the drive back. We thought we would just drive back and get our cars from Gasquet and go home. We had no idea that the next leg of our journey would involve looking for the raft again.
A Wild Boat Chase
When we came out of the Winchuck and into cell service, Chris started using the find my phone function to try to locate where the raft might be. A ping showed up on the coast near the mouth of the Smith River. Could it be possible that the raft had run the entire North Fork overnight and had made it to the coast unmanned!? We followed the location of the ping and we found a neighborhood near the beach. We walked up and down the beach in the estuary and checked it, we walked around the neighborhood and checked, but did not see anything. We made contact with the Tolowa Dee-Ni’ Nation patrol who noticed us driving around their neighborhood and helped us look a little bit. Finally, we decided that we would have to head back and give up for the day. We spent an entire additional day thinking that the raft might still have made it all the way out because back at Babcock's house, we heard reports from the sheriff and the California highway patrol that an unmanned boat had been spotted near the covered bridge in Hiuchi. We saw another report of an overturned kayak in the river. I made a Facebook post for the lost boat, but by later that evening I had finally been able to gather additional information, including a screenshot of the actual sheriff's report. Which unfortunately showed the time stamp of the report as being one full day before we had lost our boat. So the report could not have been ours. Around that same time in the evening, Chris was able to get a hold of a time stamp on his find my phone ping and discovered that it could have been from before we left for our trip. So given that new information, our surety that the raft had made it below our run completely evaporated. We gave up hope of finding it downstream. We think it is probably still in the Upper North Fork since two parties of kayakers ran from Major Moore's down to Margie's on Tuesday and Wednesday and no reports of a random unmanned raft were made. We plan to go back in and retrieve the two hard shells and finish out the mission as soon as the water levels look good. Now that we've gone and seen it for ourselves, we are looking for literally half as much water as we had. What we had seems to be somewhere in the 16 ft on the pipe gauge range for Monday, dropping down to 12 ft on the pipe gauge Tuesday. Our impression of the river at the confluence of Chrome Creek was that yes, it dropped significantly overnight, and at that point, we still thought it looked like too much water to risk boating downstream. Not to mention we were not willing to split our group for the hike out/ potential boat out option.
The trip report will conclude next week in part 4.
]]>Put in
At our chosen put-in location, there was a nice eddy at the confluence. I inflated my kayak in a bear's sleeping nook. There were rotten salmon fins and bones scattered about next to bear scat and what appeared to be bear puke. The Headwaters looked like a full-blown river, not like a creek at all. Looking upstream, I could see at least six logs skewering in from the banks. The largest trees appeared to be old-growth. All of them evergreens, mostly Douglas fir. The logs looked like they had been there a long time, mostly still had their bark on but not branches. There were routes over or around all the logs I could see at the put-in. We launched downstream and my first maneuver was to go right of a skewer log, through a green tongue into a crashing wave. The river felt fast, but not too pushy. The gradient was pretty gentle for the first little bit.
Incident Report #1
The first major mishap was my fault. I was leading in the inflatable kayak and told the group that I was going to eddy out on the right, before a blind corner. I then proceeded to miss the eddy, it turns out it was flushing and full of small branches that made it difficult to get into. I tried to grab one of the branches to slow myself down, which is a mistake I've made before and know not to do. The current was so swift underneath me that my boat was dipped into the water by the force of my holding on to the branch, I effectively swamped myself and the boat flushed out from under me. I reflipped the kayak immediately and was beginning to climb back in when I saw that a large old-growth skewer log was spearing in on the right side just below where I was swimming. And below that, I could see what appeared to be a river-wide long jam coming into view in another 30 ft.
I quickly decided to ditch the kayak and use the skewer log to arrest my descent, I grabbed the gnarled bark with my hands and swung my legs around in the current, catching the slack water behind the log with my body. It wasn't a great spot, however. The real slack water was to river right of me and my legs were dangling in a small surf wave being created by where the log dove underwater. My legs were out behind me in the surf, preventing me from reaching them down for the bottom of the river, which appeared to be shallow. I made one attempt to climb up against the current, but there was too much water going over my head, so I decided to swing out onto my back and bring my body towards the eddy to my right with a barrel roll, still holding on with one hand. Right. That worked great and my helmet created an air pocket for me so that I could assess my downstream situation. It was not as bad as I originally thought, there was only some water diving under the log jam and a pretty good eddy above it to the right. I decided to let go of the log and wade into the eddy. I found that only a couple of feet underwater was a nice stable gravel bar that I could stand on. I bet it was created by the hydraulic behind my favorite log.
From there I could see my boat was parked to the right of the log jam, with my paddle. I was able to use the bark like a jungle gym and climb up onto the old growth log and give a single whistle blast to get the attention of my friends, who had caught the original upper eddy on the right just above where I had swam. Josh was running downstream in case I needed help. It had appeared to them that I was potentially body entrapped on my favorite log. I let them know I was OK and that they should go ahead and start portaging from where they were, and Josh pulled my boat up onto the log jam to keep it safe from being sucked underneath. It took us probably an hour to portage the first long jam, it was fairly difficult and we didn't want to rush and create another mishap.
Portaging
Doing an exploratory run like this with serious wood hazard, we came into it expecting to do lots of portaging. We packed as light as we possibly could to make this easier. We helped each other, usually I went first in the IK and then came back to spot the other portages with a rope or a hand. The hard shell kayakers worked together to pass each of their kayaks over obstacles, and the R2 team was able to side by side toss the boat over the trees.
At the second major log portage, a headwall jutting out on the river right prevented us from walking along the shore with the boats. I set a throw rope as a lining aid along the shore around the cliff. Then we clipped the boats into that rope and shoved them out in the current, where they swung around the cliff into the eddy on the back side and I caught them. This worked great for the inflatables and we were able to avoid having to belly crawl through the brush in that instance. Two portages were on the right and one was on the left. At the left-hand one, we saw an enormous salmon swimming!
Boogie Water
After the log jam, we were able to boat a couple hundred yards before coming up on another old growth Doug fir tree completely spanning the entire river about a foot off the water. The river's right side of the tree had enough room to duck underneath potentially, however, there was another log on the back side making that a dicey move. We decided to portage again and had to maneuver up the riverbank and then back under the second log to get around, it was so big in diameter that no one was able to climb up it. We found some amazing rocks. They were giant pieces of jasper filled with quartz veins. The tree itself seemed fairly fresh but there were no branches in the water because it was so big that the canopy had landed completely on the opposite bank. After this portage, it looked pretty clear downstream and we started making some fast progress.
The gradient was mellow and the character was class 2 fast boogie water. For being a small drainage, it was not small. The bed of the stream was very wide and could accommodate a lot of water. We made about a mile of progress in what felt like 10 minutes or less. Then things started to get a little out of control. The gradient increased as we got close to Chrome Creek and suddenly the main channel filled with brush. We pulled over on river left and could not see a clear route through the brush. Chris hiked down the bank scouting the rapid and reported back that it was a class three rapid and no log jams below it that we could see. However, no clean line through the brush. So I decided to go first and I hugged the left side, ducking and hip-checking a couple of tree branches. It went fine and I continued downstream into the first available micro eddy. The raft styled it, they came through cleanly and had a better line than I did. They mauled a small tree, took it straight on and it bent completely under the raft. The hard shell kayaks crashed through okay as well. After that, there were no other micro eddies for the rest of my group, so I peeled out in front of them and the character was brushy, brushy, brushy. I was having trouble seeing what was next because of the branches hitting me in the face.
We ran probably a quarter mile of dicey continuous class three with brush hazard until the furthest downstream thing I could see coming up was what looked like a giant pourover in the middle of the river, with an old growth log skewering in from river right, likely in play. I eddied the group out on river-left against the bank in an area clear of brush. I gave a whistle blast, got out of my kayak, and walked it upstream to allow additional room for the others to park.
Boat spacing
As with all fast-paced continuous runs, boat spacing can be difficult to manage. Different crafts have different strengths and speeds of travel. We put the inflatable kayak in front, the two hard shells in the middle, and the raft in the back. Occasionally the boat order was lost due to eddy hopping. It did feel like this run at this flow was so continuous that if someone were to become pinned, it would have been extremely difficult to stop in a location of maximum usefulness to help. So even with tight boat spacing, sometimes it felt like we were each boating alone.
I was able to keep out in front fairly easily and had to find micro eddies to pull over in and wait. Every time I pulled over as the lead boat, the boats behind me started getting nervous that perhaps we had another log to deal with. So I would give them the go signal, which we had established was an arm straight up in the air, so they would know that I was just adjusting the boat spacing and not stopping the entire group. For pulling over the entire group for wood portages, I used a whistle blast and an eddy-out signal, with verbal confirmation of river-wide wood as well.
Catching slack water to maintain boat spacing felt similar to playing safety/ being ready to peel out after swimmers. I calculated the amount of time it would take me to leave the eddy and get back in the main current online and matched that time lag with the trajectory of the boat coming downstream. With such a fast-paced creek and limited visibility, this calculation was more difficult than on other creeks I've done before. I found myself having to focus extremely intently on the timing to avoid making the second boat feel like it needed to slow down. Juggling that with reading the water out front put me on hyper-alert mode. It was starting to feel like survival boating as we neared Chrome Creek and the gradient increased.
Reading the water as the lead boat on a tight twisting creek, I was not willing to commit to blind corners since there was unknown wood in play. The continuous nature meant that blind corners came up very fast. Catching the outside water above a corner to peek around it, but then still being able to work my way back to the center without messing up the boat spacing and lead through the corner successfully, was very challenging. The outsides of the corners also tended to have wood coming down the bank on the erosional slope. The insides of the corners tended to have willows and alders growing in what I can only assume would be gravel bars at lower flows. I was constantly looking as far downstream as I possibly could, and sacrificing a lot of my water reading that was happening right in front of me to do so. I was relying on balance and bracing to engage with whatever the features were that I was boating over at the moment. I didn't have time to look at them.
Stay tuned for part three next week.
]]>So you think you want an adventure. Here is a complete trip report narrative from the Upper NF Smith Headwaters attempted run on December 4, 2023. This trip came together with lots of planning and access to local knowledge, a gift that the boating community has developed over time with the people of Gasquet in large part due to the legacy of Bearfoot Brad (Brad Camden). Bearfoot video Brad has been running shuttles for whitewater boaters on the Smith for a long time and is also an advocate for river conservation. You can help protect the Smith by signing the smithriveralliance.org petition. Planning this trip, we needed places to stay in the middle of a winter storm and shuttle drivers who would be capable of handling unknown forest road conditions. David Gasteneau has taken over for Brad on the local shuttle front for the last few years. He connected us with Tom Stewart who would do our shuttle. Plan A would be to boat the North Fork of the Smith from Major Moore’s to Margie’s on Sunday to get the crew warmed up, then to go into the NF Headwaters the next day. I was able to secure the contact info for the people who own the cabin at Major Moore’s and they agreed to let us stay there Monday night. We were also able to call in a favor and rent the Ludlum house on the Winchuck River for Sunday night, even though it is technically closed this time of year. That would put us an hour of driving from the put-in spot I selected off rd 270. There were a few hiccups with plan A, however.
The Gauges
The Smith River has three forks and there are two gauges that boaters typically use.
The first thing that went awry was the Jed Smith gauge. Jed Smith reports the total from all three forks. It stopped reporting data during the final 48 hours before the trip. There is a more relevant gauge located at the “pipe” on the north fork, at the confluence of the north fork and the middle fork. The pipe does not report digitally. It is just some spray paint and if you want to check it then someone has to go do a viewing in person. At high water the pipe gauge can also be inundated with the back eddy water from the Middle Fork, making it less reliable of an indicator of pure NF flow. The pipe is measured in feet and between 9 and 12 feet is a great moderate flow. I was able to watch the predictions for the Chetco drainage and also the digital gauge at Dr. Fines Bridge for some correlating data. The predictions’ timing and flow looked good, but the morning we were to head out to the river, the real-time data blipped in at about 51,000 cfs on the Smith. We were hoping for 20,000 and dropping at the most. The storm that came in hit way harder than predicted so we re-routed our Sunday plans to a different drainage. This was a unanimous decision, everyone felt good about the re-route. We had 12,000 on the Illinois at Kerby gauge. We went to Deer Cr onto the Illinois and also got in a lap on Rough and Ready Creek. We developed some good community connections there, connecting with the folks who control the private gate on Rough and Ready. We also got in the groove for high water boating. This was the first flush for the general boating community here. We had a crew of 9 small craft and 4 rafts on Sunday. The Gasquet locals were reporting that the pipe gauge was at 18 ft Sunday night.
Choosing a flow window
To guesstimate what would be a good flow for our team, including a small raft, we based our information on the flow window that would be considered moderate at the pipe gauge for a trip launching from Major Moore's. In my opinion, the best moderate flows for the classic North Fork Smith are between 9 ft and 12 ft on the pipe gauge. I was thinking the upper end of that window would work for us on the headwaters run due to how tiny it would be at the very top. We were aiming our storm-chasing window for after the peak and hoping for several days of falling flows during warm weather. The timing was a little tight, it peaked a little late and over twice as high as we wanted it. Peaking at over 50,000 CFS on Jed Smith gage Sunday morning. So then the question was, how much would it drop in the next 24 hours while we were en route to the put-in? Would we still go? Would our group accept the added risk of a high-water trip? Were we all willing to embrace the possibility of hiking out? It peaked at 50k and by the time we launched, we had about 20k. Twice as much as desired.
About having a high water skill set
Oh, the River Rating System. I would personally consider the skill set needed to do a high water run to be one full level above what the run would be rated normally. So for instance, if you're going to go do the North Fork Smith (which is rated class IV) above the standard moderate flow window, then you should have a class V skill set. Arguably, the run itself bumps up a class during a high water event. Even if the moves aren't more difficult, the time that you have to make decisions and execute maneuvers is dramatically less. The consequences of accidents become higher. Losing boats and long swims. High water read and run skills are also best developed on roadside access runs, moves like brush dodging and non-eddy catching are things you can practice in places like the Upper Applegate and Canton Creek with lower consequences than in a backcountry setting like the NF Headwaters. Key components of a high water skillset include tight team boating to manage boat spacing, team eddy catching, safety eddies at wood features, fast decision-making, and looking further ahead than normal. Looking further ahead is both literal and figurative. More on that in the Boating the Headwaters segment.
Decision time
The Sunday night convene involved a pretty intensive discussion over at the Aaron Babcock house. We laid out all the possibilities, we were somewhat pigeonholed into either committing or not to the Headwaters mission as of Sunday night because our shuttle driver would have to leave at 5 am to start the day and they were ready to go to bed. Waiting until morning to check flows/ make a final decision was not an option. We knew it would be high, but also were willing to commit to a “suffer fest” for the sake of exploration. Ted and Aaron dropped out. We decided to at least go look at it. That's more water than we wanted, but it was dropping fast. We would hike out if we got there and it looked bad. The remaining core crew was a good manageable group size of five.
Ludlum Cabin
When we got to the Ludlum cabin, it was pouring rain. We parked in a 4-inch deep puddle of water and used our code to get into the cabin. The Gold Beach Ranger District was willing to make an exception for us to rent out of season if someone came in person and made the payment. Gold Beach is 4 hours from my house, so we did some internal communication and were able to secure it using the help of locals. We saw a Barred Owl swoop down and have a midnight snack. We built a fire and went to bed early.
1107 to 270 route
In the morning, Dave showed up and dropped Tom off with us for the drive. Tom reported that flows had dropped to 16 ft on the pipe. We drove another hour up. We had satellite images researched the route ahead of time and were confident that the 1107 sees a lot of traffic and is in good enough shape to drive. There was a full-sized van located parked in a ditch though, which seemed questionable as we drove by. It was dark out when we left the Ludlum house, we could hear the Winchuck River raging outside, and it was still raining. As the light broke we saw fog and an immense coastal forest. The road was in great shape until we came across a road-wide double hardwood log, maybe 18 inches across and too low for Josh’s nice big diesel truck to duck. This is one of those points where we should have turned around. However, we happened to have a chainsaw, a tow line, and the diesel 350, so we went ahead and cleared the road. The Most Valuable Player award goes to Josh Bowling there. Road clearing set back was about 1 hour, at which point I began to suspect we would spend the night out in the forest. The entire mission is a race against daylight, as is always the case with winter boating in Oregon. We found the junction of 270 and 276, which was to be our drop-off point to begin the bushwhack to the river.
The Hike In
The hard shell kayaks started with boat turtle style but quickly advanced to sled style for the descent due to overhead brush. Side-hilling was fairly problematic and both hard shellers chose to follow a small drainage off to the left of our descent route. For the inflatables, both boats were rolled and placed into Six Moon Designs backpacks, which are intended for pack rafting. These backpacks are capable of holding a blue barrel, the style used for canoe portaging, etc. For the inflatable kayak, I found the pack to be a really good fit. For the raft, the straps were not long enough and the load was difficult to stabilize laterally. The hike was maybe 800 ft of vertical descent.
We started at the junction of roads 270 and 276. Then dove off the cliff into the brush to the left. The river down below is arcing in a right-hand turn in this area, and if you veer left or upstream, you hit another small drainage coming from the road grade. I had checked out the satellite imagery ahead of time and it looked like we could bushwhack slightly upstream and stay in the older forest (hopefully less brush).
The Evergreen Huckleberry and Vine maple was fairly persistent. Downed trees within the brush exacerbated the difficulty. We saw a giant Pacific salamander! It was wiggling away in the ferns, running from us scary giants. Going down the bottom of the drainage to our left was clearer than riding the ridge as we had originally anticipated. We popped out at the confluence of our small drainage and the Upper North Fork Smith. It looked juicy.
We were in walkie-talkie communication with Tom until we got to the river. It took over an hour or more to get down the hill. Tom waited for us all to arrive at the river before departing with the truck. We wanted that safety net just in case someone were to be injured on the bushwhack or the river were to seem too high when we got eyes on it.
Group size for expedition boating
The group size is an important consideration, in having enough people as resources to help if someone is injured, but not so many people that boat spacing becomes an issue or eddy catching becomes too tight. Another thing more people add is more time to do every scout and portage. We have one small raft, one IK, and two hard shells. I felt like this was ideal. In the inflatable kayak could go out front and easily jump in and out of the boat at difficult-to-access locations for portaging, helping to catch the other craft. The inflatable kayak, however, is also the most likely craft to create swimmers on a difficult run like this. It tips easily, I can’t roll it. The point person is much more exposed to hazards and potentially the need to self-rescue without assistance from the rear group members. A swimmer can go surprisingly faster than a boat and getting swept out in front of the group is a real concern. Which did happen.
]]>The first item that I quite literally cannot live without, and in fact, I probably would have been chilly this winter if I did not have it; is my Mountain Hardware Bishop Pass 0-degree mummy bag. I’ve had this bag for three years now and I use it in the back of the truck as well as on the trail. I know for a fact that I’ve taken this bag well below 20F with just base layers on and still was toasty. It’s typically only used in the truck in the winter, however, if I’m parked somewhere up in the mountains, cowboy camping (yes, I still cowboy camp even though I have a vehicle) in the summertime requires a warmer bag. This bag does weigh 3lbs, so that’s why its primary use is overlanding. In terms of pillows, I just use a normal fluffy one for a couple of reasons. Sleep is super important to me so having a comfy pillow is key, and I also share my pillow with a 50lb dog, so I need a normal size one.
The next thing that comes to mind is power. I don’t have many things I need to charge, only my phone, iPad, headlamp, camera, and speaker. Because of this, battery banks are useful; the same ones that are used on trails. I use the 20000MaH Nitecore and 10000MaH Anker. If I’m out for more than a week at a time, this is where my GoalZero power station battery comes in. I use the Yeti 500x. It’s only about 15lbs, aka ultralight, but has every outlet you would ever need. Because I don’t have to use it much, I can usually live a week off the battery itself before I must charge it, via solar or plug-in. To charge my GoalZero Yeti 500x, I use the GoalZero Boulder 100 solar panel. It’s weatherproofed so can be left out in the elements and it has a kickstand so I don’t have to worry about it breaking in the wind.
For water, I use a couple of different things, so I’ll break it down for you. My main water container is a 4-gallon collapsible water jug. Typically, it’s just my dog and I using it, so it lasts anywhere from 5-7 days. I also have a Rotopax jug on the outside of my vehicle that can hold another gallon of water. When the sun bakes it, it makes a great shower-water temp. I have various Nalgene’s and RTIC tumblers that float around because it’s very annoying when you’re in the back of the truck but your bottle is outside or up in the cab. Because of this, I learned to keep one stashed everywhere. Lastly, if I ever run out of water and need to retrieve it from somewhere, I use my trusty Sawyer Squeeze to filter. This means that you do have to keep SmartWater bottle around to use the Sawyer, but I refuse to ever buy a different water filtration. I use it on trail so I use it in the truck.
For cooking, I use a couple of different things here too. The stove that has gone on lots of backpacking trips and is still being used for overlanding is the MSR Pocket Rocket. I do use my little Toaks titanium pot too, but when I’m not backpacking, that’s used for hot beverages. The pot that I like to use is the GSI Soloist. This pot is bigger than the Toaks and thus, can hold a whole box of mac and cheese. My grandma gave me a little skillet pan to pair with my Pocket Rocket.
Another cooking mechanism that I use when I’m out overlanding is the Eureka Camp Grill. It weighs almost nothing and is the perfect edition for a camp kitchen. Instead of cooking right on the back of the tailgate, I opted to buy a cooking table. I’m messy, and if I can eliminate the amount of food crumbs that end up in my living quarters, that would be ideal. The one utensil that I use is my long-handled titanium spork. It’s a great chicken leg flipper, spaghetti noodle stirrer, or whatever you need it to be.
Going along with the outdoor living vibe, I like to make it feel like home. When you’re overlanding, you can have some items that you may not always bring while backpacking. For example, a camp chair is a must. I’m not going to sit on the ground when I don’t have to. I also have a shorter camp table that I use more of a coffee table. Both items are ultralight, and they pack down quite small.
I’m the kind of person that doesn’t necessarily need to refrigerate things. Maybe that means I spend too much time on the trail? If I’m out for multiple days into multiple weeks, that’s when I bring out the coolers. I use an RTIC 54Qt hard-sided cooler where I keep food items that I don’t get to a lot. This ensures my frozen stuff stays frozen for as long as possible. This cooler is most definitely ultralight. Even when it’s fully loaded, I can carry it myself. I also use an RTIC soft cooler that I keep my snacks in or drinks that I may access more often. I don’t need a fridge, so I don’t have one. Coolers are it.
This is just a quick and simple list to give you a general idea of what I use daily.
]]>
Is The Trail Really For You? While Cheryl Strayed might have just jumped right in, the reality is that she did not complete a thru-hike, and you most likely won’t either if you don’t put together at least a mini “resume” of outdoor walking. If you’ve never done any backpacking trips you might want to get some gear, go to your top-choice national park or forest for the weekend, and see how you like sleeping on the ground, being surrounded by mosquitoes, and making bathroom runs behind a tree. More seriously, if you are already an avid hiker/backpacker, consider a shorter trail as a good testing ground. I’m a lifetime trekker and climber, but the longest I’d ever been on a trail at one time carrying all my own gear was around three weeks. My wife and I decided to do the 500 mile Colorado Trail to see how our lightweight gear performed and how we liked being out in the woods that long. We loved it, and a year later took on the 800 mile Arizona Trail for two months to see if we still enjoyed being out for even longer. We also loved that, and not long afterwards, knew we were ready for the PCT. Sure, some people do show up at the border and manage to go all the way to Canada, but those without some sort of prior experience are usually asking for an early exit.
Perform Your Own Shakedown: At the start of the trail, there are usually some PCT vets who lie in wait for novice hikers, hoping to assist them in shedding unnecessary weight and gear. While this may be helpful for some, who is to say what items you really should or shouldn’t carry. I wore my camp sandals every single afternoon of my PCT journey, and I read my Kindle probably 90% of the nights, so for me, they most certainly were not luxury items. While 60% of the trekkers you meet might tell you that a zero drop trail runner is the way to go, another 40% find they won’t last more than a week with them on. Do your research, buy some gear, but then go out and actually use it and see how it works for you. While you can definitely move faster and use less energy by carrying less weight, this might also have its drawbacks. As someone correctly pointed out to me about halfway along the trail, those folks who didn’t carry so-called excess weight (like a change of clothing, a pack towel, or a stove) were the same people who rarely ever stopped before it got dark, as they didn’t have much to look forward to in camp. Our own plan on the PCT (and elsewhere) was to start early, finish early in the afternoon, and use the rest of the day to clean up, cook, read, and enjoy down time which made the walking every day that much easier as well as more enjoyable all the way to the finish.
Hiking Your Own Hike: There are vastly different styles or approaches to hiking on the PCT, and all of them have their own merits. I may have envied the folks carrying 10 pounds of base weight when they waltzed past me on a sunny day, but as a photographer, I was probably the most envious of the French gal I met who was happily willing to haul a heavy DSLR and extra lenses in her 40 pound bag. And while we laughed at a young British hiker who slept in every day until 1pm and then hiked mostly at night, he ended up completing the trail happy as a lark. That said, there are a few realities of walking such a long trail. In any given year, there really is about a six-month weather window when most hikers can complete the trail without bumping up the risk factor. If you divide 2654 miles by 180 days, it only comes out to just shy of 15 miles a day, which doesn’t sound too tough. But factor in days off, lower mileage in the Sierras, and other variables, and that number bumps up quite a bit. When my wife and I did the PCT, we planned to go slowly through the desert, giving ourselves time to get into trail shape and hit the Sierras after the snow melt. Like others, we also fell for the stories about how “Oregon is flat” and how easy it would be to do massive mileage there due to what great shape we’d be in. Once on trail, we found that we did much bigger mileage in the desert than we expected, subsequently took more days off, and then were able to enter the Sierras early due to it being such a dry year. But then we learned that Northern California had elevation gains almost similar to the Sierras, and that despite being in Olympic athlete-shape in Oregon, that walking 30 mile days consecutively took a brutal toll on our bodies. The PCT is an astounding and wonderful journey, and it is also a physical and mental ordeal. Prepare to embrace the highs and lows.
Trail Savvy: In the old days, you actually needed to know how to use a map and compass, and there were not enough hikers on the trail to count on someone coming along to give you directions if you were lost. While apps and in-phone navigation systems have made things much easier, your life isn’t worth losing to a lack of knowledge nor battery loss or equipment failure. Take some courses or at least have some experienced friends point you in the right direction before you set out, or else watch some videos and go practice near your home. Several PCT hikers have lost their lives crossing the San Jacinto Mountains in March or April snow because they either didn’t have or didn’t know how to use an ice axe. Hikers have gotten off trail and not known how to navigate back. Don’t be one of them. Take a basic snow or an orienteering course, and carry at least some version of a first aid kit and know how to use it.
The Big Three: While your final packing endeavors will involve a ton of “this goes this stays,” it’s worth investing time, energy, and money on three items that you will be spending a lot of time in or with. You’ll be wearing your pack 10-12 hours a day for half a year, so research proper pack fit and get one that works for you. While there are now packs being made that weigh less than 2lbs, my experience has been that those packs tend to only be comfortable up until about the 30 pound carry range, and when you put in those 8 days of food plus water in the High Sierra, you may end up well above that. I had several lightweight packs that I’d been using, but ultimately I settled on the Six Moon Designs Minimalist. I chose the flight vest option offered with the pack which was a real game changer, as it stopped any pack sway, allowed my core to handle the weight, and got rid of the sore shoulder problems I’d been having on long trips with other packs. The other items you’ll want to be picky about are your sleeping bag and tent. Quilts today have started to replace sleeping bags due to lower weight, but top of the line down bags are nearly as light and most definitely warmer. Some folks go super light and carry only a tarp, but I like my mosquito protection. The Six Moon Designs Haven Ultralight allows one to set up just a tarp or mesh tent inner if wanted, or combine the two for full protection.
Organize: While the PCT offers unlimited freedom; you get to choose where you walk to every day and sleep pretty much where you want and when you want, yet at the same time you still have to get your miles in and have the discipline to do so. It might be free to sleep in the woods, but every time you go into a trail town, it’s really easy to blow the bank, especially for a hungry hiker. Make a tentative plan, which includes a budget, some idea of a timeline, resupply or not plan, and when you need to apply to get that valued PCT permit.
Finally, all the cliches about the PCT totally apply. Hike your own hike, it’s not a race, it’s not about the finish line. The trail is so long that I never started out thinking or wondering if I could or would make it all the way, I just went out to enjoy the hike and the beautiful scenery and shared companionship on the journey. Somewhere up in Oregon I started to realize that I most likely would go all the way and that there actually was a finite end point out there somewhere, but the trail still remained pretty much about being in the moment and enjoying the incredible nature and fabulous characters one met while out on the adventure of a lifetime.
]]>First off, the bags and quilts that we take out are super, super lightweight. Because of this, during the washing process, you have to be very careful with the material. This is why I do not recommend using a washing machine, and instead, using your hands and a bathtub. Because our bags are filled with down, we have to use a special cleaner, not your typical detergent. I recommend using the brand Nikwax, and you can get two bottles in a set: the Down Wash Direct paired with the Down Proof water proofer. Once you have the supplies you need, it’s time to get washing. I use a quilt, so before I put the quilt in the tub, I make sure all the loose straps are taken off and all synch cords are tied to make sure they don’t come off. When you fill the tub, you just need enough water to cover the bag or quilt. Because it is down, you will see that it floats quite well. You’ll have to use some ‘oomph’ to shove that thing under the water.
During this first rinse, I don’t use the cleaner yet. I knead the quilt with my hands in the water to get the first round of dirt and grime out. You don’t realize it, but you can get a lot of gunk out before you even use the cleaner. Throughout the process of kneading the bag or quilt, be careful not to pull it out of the water. It will become quite heavy as you will see and if you pull it out of the water, you are putting excess pressure on the material that could rip seams or such. Now it’s time to add the cleaner. Look at the bottle to see what the recommended amount is per the amount of water you’re using. Once the cleaner is added, start going to town on that thing. I turn mine inside out, I swoosh it all around, and I frankly beat the poo out of it. Once you feel as if it is thoroughly soaped up, it’s time to start rinsing all of it out. I would say the most important part of this process is to make sure you get all of the cleaner out of the bag or quilt. If you don’t, it could damage the down.
When I recently washed my quilt, I did five cycles of rinse. Once you knead the bag and no longer see cloudy water but clear, that’s when you know that all of the cleaners is out. Before you move the quilt or bag from the tub, make sure you have squeezed out as much water as possible. Remember, water makes the down super heavy so be careful in transition. Next up is the drying stage. If you have a dryer, make sure it is in the ‘no heat’ setting. You’ll find that the moisture makes the down clump up and so because of this, throwing tennis balls or something like that in the dryer with the bag will help break up the clumpiness. I do not have a dryer, so I air-dry mine. Now, obviously, air drying takes way longer than a dryer, like three or four days to be exact. As I hung my quilt up to dry, I would often take my hands and knead out the down clumps. I would also shake my quilt quite vigorously to help disperse the down. However you choose to dry your quilt, it’s just important that you make sure it is all the way dry before it goes back in your pack or back in storage. As mentioned above, I choose to re-waterproof my down gear as well when I wash it. I take my second cleaner, the Nikwax Down Proof and do the same process that I did with the first cleaner. I always let the quilt dry completely in between the two processes but to each their own. That is my top-to-bottom process of not only washing my down quilt or bag, but also jackets, pants, or whatever else. Happy hiking!
]]>
Seven months after that writing, on June 7, 2023, I set off from Durango, CO in my 2019 Ram Promaster (named Pierre) to begin that journey of healing. After 10 years of working in public interest law, I took six months of extended leave to process my trauma and the trauma of those individuals I’d represented. I knew the only way I could do this was to immerse myself in an adventure while surrounded by nature. I rented out my condo for 4 months, finished building out Pierre into a livable space, and left town. My first stop was to a specialist in Denver for one final round of injections to help keep the nerve pain at bay. After more than 7 months of constant medical appointments, this would be my last (I hoped) until I planned to return to Durango in late September. My body felt like it was finally turning that page of the recovery book where it allowed me to run a little, hike a little, and scream a little less. I felt hope.
Study after study has proven the link between trauma and the physical body. Stress impacts our central nervous system, placing us in an indefinite state of fight, flight, or freeze. We begin to forget what it feels like to truly rest and digest. Humans are incredible in that we can operate in this state for years before things begin to break down. The ability to endure in this state of heightened arousal can be both our greatest strength and the source of our own suffering. When I left town, my body had already broken and it felt as though my mind was not far behind. I exhibited all the symptoms of burnout. The constant emails, ringing of the phone, worry about my clients, anger at the systems that oppress the most vulnerable individuals, and fear that I could never do well enough made me feel like a wounded caged animal. When I climbed in Pierre on June 7, I was on a mission to save myself. With no real plan in place other than to head west and then north, the journey began. What follows are journal entries made along the way.
June 19, 2023. Night 13.
Sage Hen Creek Campground- Tahoe National Forest. About 4 miles down a dirt road off Highway 89. California.
It’s a free campground. Not a soul around. Wet, but no rain is expected and there is a dry spot for Pierre. Deserted campgrounds are eerie in their own way. But it’s quiet. Cold. I hiked up the Emigrant Trail from Hwy 89 to Stampede Reservoir. About 18 miles total- more than I’ve done in a day, but the trail was flowy and the miles went fast. Mostly saw mountain bikers and a few trail runners. Talked to my therapist yesterday morning. At first, just a general talk about the trip, but then some tears came when I talked about some past relationships I’d been processing. There is still some hurt and shame there. We talked about the different kinds of anxiety that can come on a trip like this. The unknown is so real and in your face. I’m doing it, though, and I’ll keep doing it. Try to let go of some of the fear, anxiety, and lack of control. There is no other choice.
July 3-7, 2023. Nights 26-29.
Oregon Coast Backpacking Trip. (Met up with Jamie in Ashland, OR, whom I met hiking the Colorado Trail in 2021).
Jamie and I dropped Pierre off at Harris Beach State Park and then drove up to Bandon to begin our hike south on the Oregon Coast Trail. It was a wild and rugged experience. Probably one of the most challenging backpacking trips I have ever done. 100-ish miles of sand, highway, and steep trail hiking. When we set off on the beach from Bandon, the wind was whipping from the north and our jackets flapped loudly. One minute, we were in the car and the next, we were just walking south on the beach, venturing into the great unknown. At one point in those early miles, Jamie looked over at me and said, “Walking is the best meditation.” Yes. I smiled. We saw seals! I’d never walked that many miles on the beach before and at points, my mind truly felt empty minus the sound of the wind, the waves, and the thought of moving constantly to find firmer footing. Day 2 brought a crossing of the Sixes River. It was about two hours before high tide and the seas were rough and stormy. We decided to try at the mouth where the river met the sea. Exciting! Water up to our crotch and a strong current. We crossed feeling strong and brave. Next up, Elk River! Otters were playing in a fallen tree. This time, we were waist-deep, but the current was gentler. Spent the night of the 4th of July sleeping on the beach near Port Orford, falling asleep just after a firework show’s grand finale. On Day 3, we learned how to walk on the highway for miles upon miles upon miles. We became numb to the semis and RVs blasting past us and just single-filed it. I became very familiar with the contours of Jamie’s backpack and the backs of his legs. A roadside attraction brought us Fritos and cold brewed coffee. Stealth camping in the woods. On Day 4, we realized that the sand and road walking had greatly pissed off Jamie’s left ankle tendon. The day was long as we stayed on the highway to avoid the uneven sand. Finding fresh water to filter proved a challenge until we finally found some trickling down the hillside near the highway. As the sun dropped, so did the ocean away from the road. There was nowhere to camp because the land between the road and the sea was either cliffs or private property. Finally, after 26 miles of walking (Jamie is a trooper), we made it past the private land into the Samuel Boardman Corridor and spotted a tent just off the road. There was room enough for two more and we quickly pitched our tents and ate dinner in relief. On the final day, I left Jamie in his tent and hiked the last 17 miles to Pierre as quickly as I could. The Oregon Coast Trail tossed one more challenge at me with its twisting turning trails that dropped sharply to the ocean before climbing again to the highway. The true trail was up and down and around and lost and found again. Finally, I emerged on a bike path that led me to Pierre and back to Jamie. I took him back to his car and we parted ways. I was on my own again.
Tuesday, July 11, 2023. Night 34
Off Road 252 in Three Sisters Wilderness Area, Willamette National Forest. Oregon.
It’s morning and I’m doing my morning routine. Coffee and breakfast while I look at maps. As I was falling asleep last night, the weirdest thing happened– all of these images of my life with my abusive ex-boyfriend came into my head. All the people who were around, the places we lived, the things he did and said. Maybe, my mind is suddenly having space to process that trauma. Maybe, I can finally clear it out of my brain and body. I remember the people who always tried to help. I remember the kindness in their eyes as they looked at me with concern. I was so young. 19, 20 years old. I should have been in college- learning, playing. I guess I was learning some different life lessons. I know I have to forgive myself for that time. To let it go. I think I mostly have. It happened and it shaped me, but it does not define me. I wonder how much it has impacted my relationships as an adult. I wonder how life would be different without that chapter. I wonder. Twenty-five years have passed, and it’s time for my body to let that chapter go.
Monday, July 17, 2023. Night 40.
Swampy Lake Sno Park- Deschutes National Forest. Oregon.
What a backpacking trip in the Three Sisters Wilderness. The first 12 miles to and around Green Lakes were awesome and I felt great! Suddenly, I started hitting downed trees that got progressively worse as I got into the Pole Creek burn area. I kept losing the trail. It was hot. I kept getting scraped and banged up on the trees. After several hours, I reached the turn-off for Camp Lake, where I wanted to camp, but the downed trees continued. Camp Lake was beautiful, nestled between South and Middle Sister, but I had a sense of foreboding. The wind was whipping and the lake felt eerie and remote. I was kept awake all night by anxiety and the wind. Finally, as the sun began to rise, so did I. Oh, how I dreaded that return through the burn area. I had to keep talking to myself and reminding myself to stay focused and keep going. Breathe. I gathered more cuts and bruises but found my way back to Green Lakes. Exhausted and with a headache, I decided to abort the mission and hike out. I have never been so happy to see Pierre. I am proud of myself for getting through that. It was hard.
Monday, July 31, 2023. Night 54.
Eightmile Campground. Alpine Lakes Wilderness. Washington.
I think the excitement of this adventure is beginning to wear off. I’m feeling tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of searching for campsites. Tired of figuring out trails to hike, logistics, and where to go. This is probably where I need to do the work. Don’t give up, but let me comfort myself. Do what I need to do to feel safe and peaceful. I slept long and hard last night and am lingering over coffee in Pierre. Reading some Pema Chodron and remembering the struggles I’ve been through before. I forgive myself for melting down a little yesterday and realizing the goal is not necessarily to avoid the meltdowns, but what we do with them afterward. Let it go. Now, I must just do it today. Go for a run. Explore. I’m thinking about life and how quickly we become accustomed to our environments and new normal. How the thoughts are always still there. As the saying goes, everywhere you go, there you are.
Monday, August 7, 2023. Night 61.
Sherman Pass National Forest Campground. Washington.
I felt something shift last night. I want to hold on to it. It was a feeling of peace and gratitude and wonder in the ordinary. Only, it didn’t feel ordinary at all. I made it up to Sherman Pass in Northern Washington and found myself in a lovely forest with cool temperatures and smoke-free skies. I was stretching on a picnic table and listening to a podcast with Cheryl Strayed about not letting your dreams get in your way. You just have to start the thing. One mile at a time. One day at a time. The big picture becomes too overwhelming and you can get lost in the why of it all. Every day, put yourself in the way of beauty. Find it somewhere. In the sunrise, that one perfect flower, in a tree, the view. She talked about embracing mediocrity. You don’t have to do everything most grandly, but rather, just do it and the rest will take care of itself. Get out of your way. While I was listening to this podcast, two older women drove up with cut-off milk jugs. Indicative of berry picking. I realized I was surrounded by huckleberry bushes and invited them over. The three of us must have picked berries for an hour. Barely moving. One of them was a historian and had a wise aura about her. She asked if I was traveling alone and seemed thrilled that I was doing this trip. She was one of the first women to work for the forest service. I felt mutual admiration that sometimes passes between two women in ways that are hard to explain. I felt so peaceful and content and somewhat in awe of this seemingly ordinary experience that felt so extraordinary and beautiful. It’s these experiences that become treasures. Ones that I could never have planned and never would have happened. If everything else had gone the way I wanted. If I hadn’t had to abandon my plan of hiking the North Cascades because they caught on fire. Breathe.
Monday, September 4, 2023. Night 89.
Off Hwy 191 just outside Grand Teton National Park. Bridger Teton National Forest. Wyoming.
Rain the last few days as I drove from Canada’s Waterton Lakes down through Montana to arrive near Grand Teton. Backpacking in Waterton Lakes was an adventure. Hiking alone in grizzly country adds a certain heightened awareness to the days. I met a Canadian family with two young boys in the backcountry around the US/Canada border. As I played with them and joked about brushing our teeth in Canada and spitting our toothpaste in the United States, I recognized how much more patience and playfulness I have now. My energy to engage with people is stronger and I don’t feel the need to escape.
Monday, September 11, 2023. Night 96.
Trails End Campground- Bridger Teton National Forest. Wind River Range. Wyoming.
It’s starting to feel like fall is coming. I spent last week in the Tetons starting with a thru hike of the Teton Crest Trail and then several days with my sister-in-law. It was a beautiful, wonderful time. Overall, I feel happy and content. What a life this is. A dream, really. To just drive from one beautiful place to the next- hiking, eating, reading, running, sleeping. My body has been feeling strong and healthy and I am so very thankful for that. The time I get to talk to my friends and family feels so precious since cell service is infrequent. I’m not sure what’s to come with my emotions. Two more months of time off. Look how far I’ve come since last year. Hold on to this health. Protect it at all costs.
Friday, September 22, 2023. Night 107.
Twin Lakes dispersed camping area. Colorado.
It’s about time to start making my way home. I love this area. It’s cold at night. I have a weird rash on my hands that has been coming and going over the past few months. I really want to run/hike up to Hope Pass today and then summit Mt. Elbert tomorrow. Am I still wringing my body out physically to avoid emotional discomfort? Is this okay if I pay attention to the cues that it’s too much? Is it a problem or is this thirst for pushing myself just an integral part of who I am? Does it matter?
Thursday, October 5, 2023. Night 121.
BLM land outside Capitol Reef National Park. Utah.
I have to remember I can always come back here. When life gets too overwhelming or I feel out of kilter and unbalanced. When I don’t know what to do, I can do the thing that grounds me. Drive Pierre to a beautiful place. Go for a hike. Turn off my phone. Sit and watch the sunset. Eat. Nourish. Read. Rest. There is no one to please. No one cares what I say or how I say it. No mirrors to judge the lines, wrinkles, or dirty hair. I catch a glimpse sometimes in the rearview mirror. Who is that wild woman? Let it be is the only option. Nothing to solve. Nothing to conquer. Just the last of the light fading as the temperature drops and my eyes grow heavy. There is quiet in the desert. Out here on the edge of nothing. No big cities within hundreds of miles. No traffic. No ambient sound. Just the quiet as the ancient rock settles and the sand is still. I am home here. In Pierre. Alone. In this space, I helped create. I can always come back here.
Over the past six months, I drove over 7,000 miles through 11 states and one Canadian province. I spent over 120 nights in my van and backpacked on the Oregon Coast Trail, Three Sisters Wilderness, Wonderland Trail, Teton Crest Trail, and Waterton Lakes National Park. I hiked and ran over a thousand miles. Mostly alone. The old loops in my brain started to unwind and my soul settled. My body healed along with my mind. As I return to parts of my old life- my condo, my routine, my imminent return to work, I will hold on to these lessons and remember that I now have the map to that trail that will always lead me back to myself.
Gifts under $25
Nite Ize Gear Ties $5-$7
The Nite Ize Gear Ties are rubber-coated twist ties that come in various sizes. I first discovered them as a way to manage all the cables I must carry for charging devices, and they work great. Grab an 18” version and you now have a great way to hang your gravity filter system so you can happily snack while your water gets ready for the next leg of your hike.
Nite Ize Moonlit Micro Lantern $11
This little 19g light is a perfect way to illuminate the inside of your shelter during the long evenings of shoulder season. With a 360 swivel and an integrated hook to hang from inside the tent, this little lamp is great for reading and will save that precious headlamp battery for the miles you may want to hike in the dark.
Let’s face it any shelter you take out on the trail is going to require stakes, so why not grab a shiny new 6 pack to get you out there in style? If you’re like me, you probably bent and broke a few stakes this past season when you tried to use that rock to hammer a stake into some hard-packed or rocky soil.
Want to use an umbrella while hiking but also use trekking poles? Being ever the problem solver years ago I started making these hands-free kits for myself, and over the past 4+ years, we have been happy to share them with our customers. Weighing just 10g and only costing $10 it’s a great gift or stocking stuffer.
TOAKS Long Handle Spoon with Polished Bowl $11
I have been using the same TOAKS spoon since 2016, that shiny piece of titanium has a pile of miles on it and its long length makes scooping every morsel out of the bottom of a freezer bag a breeze. I personally love the polished bowl as it feels better in my mouth and makes scrapping the cheese from my lasagna an easy task.
CNOC Vecto 2L $23
From the Oregon Desert Trail in 2018 to my most recent hike, a north-to-south traverse of Iceland, and a pile of miles and hikes in between, the Vecto has proven to be a fantastic option for water capacity. Generally, I carry 2 of these and use them for my gravity filter. They roll up small, are super easy to fill up, and are light. A perfect gift for that hiker who is looking to add some additional water-carrying capacity without having all the bulk of a bottle taking up space when not in use.
DirtSaw Deuce #2 $21
When nature calls, and it will, you need to have a good way to dig that cat hole in the backcountry. This updated DirtSaw version is a major improvement over the previous models. With recessed teeth on the leading edge this tool can saw through small roots and dirt with ease. Coming in at 17g this lightweight trowel should be in everyone’s oppo kit, if they need to know how to use it check out the video.
Gifts for $75 or Less
Silver Shadow Family of Umbrellas $35-$45
When the sun is blazing down on you in the desert or the rain is chilling you to the bone in the Appalachians, an umbrella is an awesome piece of gear. With 3 models to choose from the Silver Shadow, Silver Shadow Mini, and Silver Shadow Carbon there is an umbrella for every possible condition from heavy rain to travel abroad. Bonus for those looking at the Silver Shadow Mini it now includes an additional EVA foam handle that extends the grip for better comfort in hand.
TOAKS makes some of the most affordable titanium products on the market, but don’t let the low price fool you, these products are of the highest quality. The 2000ml is a bit overkill for a solo hiker, but if you’re a couple hiking in a group, the bigger size is handy for making a double batch of Annie’s Mac and Cheese or enough coffee to get you tuned up for a 30-mile day. Weighing just 9.1 oz this big old pot will not weigh you down.
A favorite among any outdoor enthusiast or traveler, these lightweight packing pods make organizing your kit a breeze. Utilizing waterproof fabric and taped seams these packing pods are splashproof and weigh nearly nothing. New this year is the addition of the Backpacking SMD packing pod XL. I personally love this new larger size for my food bag on longer hikes when I may be carrying 6-8 days of food. Available in either a 3-pack of mixed sizes, 3-pack of the large size, or the new stand-alone XL, anyone getting these for a gift will be stoked.
Weighing just 3oz the Sawyer Squeeze is the perfect water filter and trusted by countless thru-hikers year after year. With the ability to be screwed on a bottle, run as an inline filter on a hydration pack, or rigged up as a gravity filter (my preference), this simple filter will be a hit this holiday.
Big Ticket Items
This cross-body satchel is any traveler’s dream. Designed to hold your electronics on the go, this bag is ready to see the world with you. My ePouch has seen an ungodly amount of sky miles over the past 5 years and has been with me to Europe, Asia, and all over the US, and I have to say it’s one of my favorite pieces of travel gear. When I board an airplane I slip it under the seat in front of me, it has everything I need for a flight and still allows for my legs to enjoy the extra space under that seat. Get one for travel or use it as your everyday carry, either way, I promise you’re going to love this bag.
Lunar Duo Outfitter $210
A two-person tent that cost $210 and weighs just 3.5Lbs and is big enough for the tallest of hikers. The Lunar Duo is often called the backcountry palace with an internal floor that measures 54” x 90”, there is more than enough room for 2 people and their gear to live comfortably while on the trail.
Skyscape Trekker $275
While our award-winning Lunar Solo gets all the attention, my absolute favorite 1 person tent in our line is the Skyscape Trekker. Weighing only 28oz, this diamond-shaped 1-person shelter has kept me safe and dry in some of the gnarliest weather I have ever hiked in. Featuring 2 doors and 2 vestibules this shelter has ample room for gear and ease of entry and exit. Bonus when the weather is nice you can roll back all the exterior doors leaving you a 300-degree view of the night sky.
Haven Bundle $375
Tipping the scale right around the 2-pound mark, the Haven Bundle is an amazing value in an ultralight 2-person, double-wall shelter. By utilizing both the Haven Tarp and Haven Net Tent, this double-wall beauty has amazing condensation management and a ton of room inside for 2 people. What sets this shelter apart though from the competition is the ability to use either the inner or the outer as a stand-alone shelter. While we sell it as a 2-person shelter I know a few thru-hikers, me included, who use it as a solo shelter so can have a yard sale in their tent at night.
Wy’east $155-$250
This was the first piece of gear I designed after our founder Ron taught me the philosophy and techniques to design gear. I set out to design a modern take on the classic rucksack. It’s got enough room for bulky layers on a winter snowshoe or ski tour, and it’s still small enough to get shoved under the seat on an airplane. This second generation of the pack has some great updates: narrower shoulder straps for a better fit, a breathable 3D mesh back for better comfort on a hot day, and new and improved fabrics for all the stretch pockets. While we feel it’s a great daypack, we have had many customers use the Wy’east this year to hike the Camino de Santiago and we know a few others who have thru-hiked the AT with it.
Flex Pack PR Plus $315-$385
The Flex PR Plus is the largest backpack in our line and features a massive 75L dry bag and capacity beyond that when needed. Designed for the needs of the packrafting community, this pack is also a favorite among trail crews hauling in tools, backcountry hunters in the Rockies and Alaska, and hikers who want a pack that can haul a load and keeps their gear safe and dry. One of my hiking partners year and I used Flex PR Plus packs for our north-to-south traverse across Iceland. The packs were the perfect solution for the bulky extra layers we needed to stay warm, and the 6+ days of food we carried between resupply points. The major bonus on that trip was no matter how much rain and wind we had, and we had plenty, our gear stayed dry as a bone inside the TPU-coated nylon dry bag.
Flight 30 Ultra $200-$300
A frameless pack designed for those looking to go fast and light, our Flight 30 Ultra is the perfect pack for trail runners, fastpackers, and anyone looking for a small lightweight pack for their next adventure. I generally use my Flight 30 Ultra for shorter weekend trips during the summer and early fall when I can get away with a small kit. If you have a trail runner in your life needing a new pack, then the Flight 30 is a great choice.
The go-to thru-hiking pack in our line, the Swift V and Swift X share the same clean lines and minimal approach in a backpack that long-distance hikers love. I’ve clocked well over 1,000 miles with my Swift X, and it has performed well in the Canadian Rockies to the deserts of Oregon and New Mexico. With a generous front pocket, large side pockets, and roll top design that can expand when needed, this pack is a thru-hiker dream. New this year were updated fabrics including Challenge Sailcloth Ultra Stretch, which brought a whole new level of durability to these packs. Give the gift of a comfortable pack this season.
]]>I bought my first Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo shelter in 2019 and since then have been privileged to be on the ambassador team. Over the years I have learned to use a wide variety of shelters from 1 person tarps such as the Deschutes to palatial shelters like the Lunar Duo. It is no exaggeration that this has been a small, life-changing experience for me, especially with the Pandemic happening in 2019.
Each time I use a different Six Moon Designs shelter, I cry out ‘This is the one for me now!’ The problem is that as an ambassador, I get to try out LOTS of shelters… so I have learned to be more specific.
I believe that the Six Moon Designs Owyhee Backpacking Tarp might be the one for me on trips where I need space, mesh to keep bugs out, and something that isn’t bulky for bikepacking. So, let’s dive right into my thoughts about this superb shelter.
Design
Like all Six Moon Designs shelters, the instructions for pitching are attached to the main stuff sack. When overnighting with friends I like to give them the chance to try out some of the shelters and of course, a chance to pitch them. This photo shows my buddy Kyle pitching an Owyhee Backpacking Tarp for the first time. Once all the lines were staked out and the shelter left to settle he came back and got it perfectly pitched.
Kyle setting up an Owyhee Backpacking Tarp for the first time
The offset feature of the design means that I have more space above my head when settling down to sleep in this shelter as approximately 60% of the shelter is sloping above my lower body and feet with the other 40% a bit steeper above my upper torso. I have certainly found this to be super comfortable for me as in cold conditions, or ‘slow start’ mornings I spend a LOT of time in my shelter.
Owyhee Backpacking Tarp pitched without a groundsheet in early autumn, no bugs!
If the bug index is low, like in the shot above I usually just pitch the main tarp as the mesh around the shelter perimeter is enough. However come summer, or damp Scottish midge conditions I love the modularity of this shelter with the option of connecting the bathtub 3D UL Groundsheet quickly from inside the shelter. Another plus point here is how small the groundsheet packs up into its little stuff sack - no excuse for not taking it!
Features
One of the most used features of my Owyhee is the internal clothesline. I like how I can put small items such as my buff, trail socks, and gloves up there when organizing my kit at camp. Provided you don’t overload it and you have pitched your shelter well there is next to no sag on this handy clothesline. Of course, it also makes a great place to stretch out your camping lights instead of wearing a head torch and suffering its glare!
Ever since losing my tent poles a long, long time ago, I have a fear of losing them again, so I appreciate that my 45" Carbon Fiber Poles fit neatly inside the shelter stuff sack, or even better in my bike's frame bag.
General
This is a well-designed and featured shelter, one that I would not hesitate using on a multi-week bikepacking trip in the US, or Europe. All of the components work together extremely well and when packed up the Owyhee Backpacking Tarp does not take up too much space when strapped to a front bike rack for instance.
The Owyhee Backpacking Tarp takes up very little space on a bike front rack for example
Like all of my Six Moon Designs shelters it is a quick and easy process to de-rig the Owyhee Backpacking Tarp. With practice, you learn which stakes to take out first to leave the shelter still standing with the poles and lines holding it up. You can then easily pop out the poles from their sleeves and sweep up the shelter for a shake before rolling up.
After the shake, the roll!
Materials
So far I have used my Owyhee Backpacking Tarp on half a dozen trips and there have been no issues with the quality of materials used for the shelter, the groundsheet, the poles, or the stakes. With care and attention, especially post-trip I expect this shelter to last me for many years with some re-proofing each season being a good call.
Conclusion
As I have mentioned in this piece the Owyhee Backpacking Tarp has proved to be a very spacious shelter on bikepacking and hiking trips alike. For long trips, I believe that folks would learn to appreciate the small details such as the internal clothesline, or the modular nature of the groundsheet.
Located along the far eastern border of Oregon — about six hours from Portland and 4.5 hours from Bend — the Owyhee Canyonlands unfold over more than 2 million acres. Cut by just three paved roads, it's considered one of the largest expanses of undeveloped land in the lower 48 states.22 May 2020
Source
Jim in his natural environment having a ‘slow start’.
Take a long walk with me‚—let’s start in late March with a spattering of snowflakes descending upon the town square of Santa Fe, New Mexico. Let’s walk south over the Sandia Mountains, then the Manzano Mountains. While crossing these mountains, let's posthole for hours, wading through deep snow remnants on northern slopes hiding from the sun’s rays, snow that preserves the history of a harsh winter. As you descend the mountains, your feet are warm and dry as you descend to the desert that occupies your expansive view. You turn gently to the west, reaching Socorro, and fill your belly with famous New Mexico green chilies. The food gives you a pep in your step and the energy to continue your walk further west. You cross the Continental Divide Trail and converse with hikers walking to Canada, but you choose to continue west to Alpine, Arizona.
Looking back upon your travels on your map, you can see your line of footsteps and that you walked in a very large quarter circle crossing the state of New Mexico. Continue your walk and make three more quarter circles. One for Arizona, one for Utah, and the final quarter circle for Colorado. Four-quarter circles make a whole and you have just finished walking the entire Four Corners Loop.
I am The Animal. I hiked the Continental Divide (CDT) trail in 2004 and the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) in 2014. I developed and walked the Four Corners Loop (FCL) in 2021, a 2,485-mile circular hiking endeavor.
I presented the FCL at the 2023 American Long Distance Hiking Association gathering to world-class, top-notch, amazing hikers just like you and Whitney LaRuffa from Six Moon Designs, took interest in the FCL, and knew this new route would be of interest to you.
The idea for this hiking route was born when I drew my CDT and PCT routes on an elevation profile map from USGS titled Geographic Face of the Nation. I saw a circle of mountains and visually connected the ridges to form a loop that embraced the central Four Corners area. I would eventually find that the ridges are an amalgamation of amazing world-class views, flora new to my eyes, and fauna bounding throughout the wilderness of New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, and Colorado.
After seeing the circle of mountains in 2017, I could not erase the pattern it inscribed in my mind. Could this be a hiking concept? Has this been hiked in its entirety? Was it possible to link up existing trails and jeep roads while adding in some necessary cross-country foot travel to create a walking route?
This route needed to be made, hiked, and enjoyed. I quickly decided I would hike my vision because a person with the trail name of “The Animal” needs to set down an animal path.
It took three years to develop the route using CalTopo. This was a large part of the journey. When I set foot walking clockwise on March 26, 2021, to determine if this was a viable and worthy hike for others to follow, I felt like I was a bobsled driver because I knew the course by memory. I knew every right banking and left banking turn that was required to complete the course. What I did not know was the condition of the “ice” under the sled.
Let’s continue our walk into Arizona. Hike along the Mongolian Rim reaching the Arizona Trail (AZT). Finish off Arizona following the AZT crossing the Grand Canyon. Enter Utah via The Wave and Buckskin Gulch. Proceed north through the Grand Escalante National Monument and stroll along the Skyline Drive as the trail provides its magic. Eventually, head east along the Uinta Mountains.
Let’s cross into Colorado via Dinosaur National Monument then make an arching quarter-circle turn to the south while enjoying all of Colorado’s splendid mountains. After reaching Salida, take a break for some river rafting. Finally, follow the Sangre De Cristo Mountain range back to Santa Fe, completing the circle.
I finished on September 8 and felt like I was riding an endless wave of everlasting bliss. I soaked up the incredible views and embraced the amazing people. At times I felt as if I was in America’s Serengeti with hundreds of elk being chased by Mexican grey wolves.
I embraced every day with gratitude because I was healthy and able to take the time to walk in a large circle. The FLC needs to be shared with the hiking world, such as you. This is a gift created by nature. If you venture out to explore the route I call the Four Corners Loop, please enjoy and tread lightly on the Indigenous land as its memories nurture your soul.
If you decide to follow my footsteps, make the effort to plan your route, because the FCL might morph into something even better than what I walked. You just might learn about local knowledge I was unaware of. If a local suggests visiting another canyon or a more scenic trail, don’t just follow my route blindly because it will only result in a better Four Corners Loop for you!
A few disclaimers about this new trail: I would not recommend this to be your first long-distance hike, as it will be more beneficial to learn the ins and outs of thru-hiking first on the PCT, CDT, or Appalachian Trail (which are much more supported). Another challenge is the lack of water, as the route is often dry and I frequently had to carry large amounts of water (up to 14.5 liters for one section!). Finally, there are areas on the route that are not public lands but there are ways around these challenges.
I am currently writing a book on the FCL and I think writing could be harder than walking for six months. Now let’s take a walk along the Four Corners Loop for another lap so you and others can create personal stories to make the world smile.
Visit the Four Corners Loop Trail Association (www.fclta.org). Route information can also be found at CalTopo https://caltopo.com/m/S2C8B
]]>
The Grand Mesa is the world’s largest flat mountain encompassing over 500 square miles. Towering 6,000 feet over Grand Junction, Colorado at an average elevation of 10,000 feet it contains over 300 lakes and just as many miles of Trails, ATV tracks, and 4x4 roads. The Mesa is part of the 646,555-acre Grand Mesa National Forest and is accessible by paved roads. It contains lodges, cabins, and campgrounds and has dispersed camping. In the winter it has miles of cross-country ski trails, snowmobile routes, and on its northern side, the Powderhorn ski resort. The area is not that well known and lightly traveled.
Contrary to its designation as a flat mountain, the Grand Mesa is not flat! The high point is 11,319 feet. The mesa was formed 10 million years ago by volcanic activity and erosion from the Gunnison and Colorado rivers. A top layer of basalt rests on a layer of shale and sandstone that has eroded leaving ridges and valleys with lakes, rivers, and streams. After years of trekking and fishing in western Colorado, I had yet to discover and explore this “hidden” gem.
I’ve recently started hiking with a pack raft and this area seemed like a perfect place to put it to use. The Alpacka Caribou weighs 5 lbs and is designed with lashdowns to carry a load on the front. The 4 piece paddle weighs 2 pounds and it all fits nicely into the Six Moon Flex PR backpack. I also carried a 4 piece 5 wt. Flyrod, PFD, net, and flies with assorted tackle in a SMD packing pod. Add on camping gear and 5 days of food until resupply, the backpack far exceeded my expectations.
I began this 12-day adventure (7/19/23) in the Mesa Lakes region on the western side of the Grand Mesa. This is an area of lakes with connecting trails and I’m dropped off at Mesa Lake with its campground, Lodge with cabins and surrounding lakes. This is my first time using the new raft and a perfect time to practice and develop a system for getting in and out of the raft and securing the load. It was time to paddle and fish Mesa Lake on a beautiful day with 2 bald eagles watching me release 2 Brook and 3 Rainbow trout. I packed up and hiked a few miles to South Mesa Lake, found a stealth campsite, and inflated the raft for an evening fish. 2 brook and 1 rainbow later the mosquitos were bad and I retreated to my SMD Skyscape Trekker, my favorite 1 person 2 vestibules 2-pound shelter that uses my hiking poles. I left the raft inflated and fished again the next morning then deflated it, rolled it, and packed up hiking on to the next lake or campsite. This was my routine for the next 5 days.
I fished Sunset, Beaver, and Jumbo lakes and the next days and was hiking the dirt road to Waterdog Lake slightly confused about where I was when a person drove by, turned around, and came back, “Are you Hawkeye?” is always good to hear and it was Teresa, a former Trail Angel from Lake City on the CDT. Small hiking world stuff and she put me on the right road to the lake.
After Waterdog and then Griffith Lake, I picked up Lake of the Woods Trail to the Bull Creek Reservoir area where I camped for 2 days and fished the nearby lakes. No need to deflate the raft but I have to leave it in the shade or the pressure inside will build too high from the heat of the sun. I can carry it inflated to nearby waters. There were some day hikers and campers in this popular area and several reservoirs to fish in. The fishing was slow, 2 rainbow trout.
I continued down the Lake of the Woods Trail to reach Cottonwood Lake #1. It’s a big lake and I’m supposed to meet Gohawkeye.org friends and supporters. Years ago I turned my adventures into fundraisers for charity just like this one. I co-founded the 501(c)3 non-profit Gohawkeye to help athletes with disabilities get sports equipment and experiences. Every year we meet up for a “Fish Camp” to hang out for a couple of days, rest,eat, drink and resupply. The trail takes me to the far shore where I switch over to lake travel mode. My inflatable raft comes with a large sil-nylon bag to capture air. Open the bag up to fill it, twist the top closed, and roll the bag down forcing the air into the raft through the valve. It takes 9 bags to do the job then you top it off with a couple of breaths and close the valve. I switched to sandals, and a rig for fishing, loaded the pack, and hit the water. I’ll paddle across and fish on the way and keep a lookout for our camp on the other side. The fishing is so good it makes my travel slow. The crew has a nice campsite in the Cottonwood campground and the Fish Camp is on! After a couple days of rest, merriment and fishing, I part company with the group then paddle and fish back across the lake eventually linking up with the trail I hiked in on.
I’ll hike the Cottonwood lakes Trail until it meets the Crag Crest National Recreation Trail then I head east for 6 miles along this “knife edge” ridge. The views are awesome and a chance to see an overview of the surrounding land is a treat. I camped at Butts Lake but no trout. That’s why it’s called fishing not catching. The next morning I head down to Eggleston Lake and the Crag Crest campground where the fishing is especially good on the eastern side of the lake. Down the road is the tiny town of Grand Mesa and several more lakes that are almost connected and easy to portage. In the next couple of days I’ll get picked up and head home but I’m already planning a return trip to the eastern side of the Grand Mesa and continue trekking for trout.
The gear I used really made this trip very comfortable. The Flex PR backpack continues to amaze me while inside I used various sized SMD pack pods to organize. The Skyscape Trekker, self seam sealed using Allgood’s video, is my go-to shelter and I’m never without my Rain Walker SUL umbrella. Other items offered by SMD include a PolyCro footprint, Loksak h2o and odor barrier bags, Deuce of Spades, Sawyer gravity bag system and those handy Nite Ize twist ties for my electronic cords.
]]>
When riding on my own, or with friends I don’t usually need to carry additional items such as a group shelter, first aid kit, larger repair kit, extra spare clothing or food as these items will have been shared amongst the group. However, when working as a bike guide this summer, I expected to carry them along with my own personal kit. Having successfully used my Six Moon Designs Wy’east backpack when mountaineering or ski touring last winter, I was confident that the Flight 30 Ultra would also be a capable backpack.
After a week of guiding a group of mountain bikers across the Scottish Highlands and a rugged two-day bikepacking trip on the West Coast, I was delighted with the Flight 30 Ultra and would recommend it to others without hesitation.
day two of a bikepacking trip NW to The Sanctuary
I will now take readers through the important features of Flight 30 Ultra Running Backpack:
Pack Updates
I was struck initially how clean and uncluttered the Flight Ultra 30 looked on the Six Moon Designs website but I wanted to boost that by choosing the new Challenge Sailcloth EPX 200 fabric as an option. My backpack has already had some rough treatment from the elements, riding and pushing past tree branches as well as being placed on rough Torridonian Sandstone whilst attending to someone else’s bike and so far there is barely a mark on the fabric.
as part of bike luggage system
Overview
The Flight Ultra 30 provides me with a wide range of adjustments which I will fully describe later in this piece. One of the most important was the ability to set up the backpack in advance so that it did not interfere with the back of my bike helmet and that it was close to my torso when riding. The roll top closure certainly contributes to this and along with the adjustable torso length tool, I got this dialed in as soon as I received my backpack. I would imagine that the ability to quickly and easily look around when running or moving fast on the trail is also important when on foot too. This is one of my favorite features(?) of Flight Ultra 30.
Pack Organization
The stash pocket on the bottom of the pack is a great place to store some bars for a quick snack or put your own, or other folks' used food wrappers.
The side pockets on the Flight Ultra 30 can only be described as cavernous for such a small backpack. I have confidently stowed my map and compass there each day, all week without any worries about them working loose. On a weekend bikepacking trip in wet, gritty conditions I kept a small bottle of chain lube tucked away in a side pocket from food or clothes in case of a leak from the bottle.
Materials
The quality of all the materials used to make the Flight Ultra 30 is first-class. Although the roll-top closure buckles are small they snap shut the first time, unlike some other buckles without such positive user feedback - great ergonomics here Six Moon Designs! When paired with a 50-liter pack liner your gear is effectively double-wrapped as the Challenge Sailcloth EPX 200 fabric has shown no sign of leaking in some very Scottish weather! With some careful planning around gear stowage, you can get a lot of important stuff in this backpack.
pre-trip gear grid
Suspension
I appreciated being able to adjust the torso length on the Flight 30 Ultra until it was just right for me and my chosen activity. The comfort and fit were noticeably better than the other frameless backpack I had until now been using. One of my guests even commented on how well my backpack fitted on and off the bike.
The T-shaped tool is pretty cool and good fun to use with the scrunchy noise that it makes as it pushes through the hook & loop slots!
Harness Options
To be perfectly honest until I got my hands on a Flight 30 Ultra I had no experience of using anything other than a traditional shoulder harness on a backpack. So that has meant many, many years of shoulder straps being too loose/tight, the backpack sitting too high/low… you get the picture.
So I decided to go in at the deep end and get a vest harness in the hope that I would be able to adjust my backpack to keep the load close and fixed to me whilst riding on technical terrain. To get that personal fit I removed one of the chest straps, using the clever quick-release connection to the vest itself.. This was mostly to allow quick access to zippers on layers in order to shut out draughts or cool off as I found working around both chest straps too fiddly for me. In the future, if I decide to re-fit that strap I know that it will only take a minute or so. The vest storage pockets work well and I was able to store my mobile phone in one of them without it being uncomfortable or difficult to access.
The upward-tightening lower straps made micro adjustments before setting out really easy and I have not noticed any slippage here. The action of tightening is also a lot smoother than the old-style pull-down buckles; I like it a lot.
There are four adjustable straps on the waist belt which means that I can set the main buckle and the belt at the perfect height for my build. There is nothing worse than a belt that sits too high especially when wearing rain pants, or bike shorts as slowly, but surely they slip down lower and lower no matter how many times you stop and tighten the belt again. Little details such as the individual keepers on each strap stop them from flapping around too much, or you have to tuck them under themselves in the hope that they stay there.
In conclusion, I believe that this part of the Flight 30 Ultra design is a game changer when using a backpack for fast-moving activities on a variety of terrain.
General
The Flight 30 Ultra looks the real deal because it is the real deal - especially in my color choice of Coyote Brown! I have enjoyed trying it out this summer and learning how to make small adjustments to make it even better. The internal hanging pouch is useful for storing important items such as van keys, wallets, or phones securely. Once in there, they are down the back of the liner and very unlikely to come adrift. Perhaps a simple loop with a clip could be included in the pouch for future editions? Having used the backpack on two very different trips I can say how much I am looking forward to riding with it again next spring and summer.
]]>That’s why it’s important to plan ahead to get a great hiking selfie that doesn’t look like a selfie! After 18,000 miles of thru-hiking, I’ve found sometimes the simplest solutions offer the best results.
Here are my top 3 ways to get a hiking self-portrait that actually looks good with 2 bonus tips
Taking a Hiking Self-Portrai
There are three simple ways to take a good hiking self-portrait. My partner and I have tried all kinds of ways to get photos with both of us in it over the years.
First, you could use an ultralight tripod. While the selfie stick works, it often fails faster. Ultralight tripods have come a long way and there are several that do the trick. Second, you can cleverly use rocks and the natural landscape to prop up your phone to take a photo. And third, if you’re in a popular scenic area, simply ask someone if they can take a photo for you. Usually, I look for someone who also wants a photo, but is too shy to ask.
I’ll describe how to use each method below with a few bonus tips.
The ultralight tripod has become a key luxury item for us. If you carry one, you can set it up almost anywhere and get a photo of yourself quickly and efficiently. The lightest ones have the least versatility; however, you don’t have to go heavy to get a good one.
I recommend the Joby GripTight One GP Stand for versatility, ease, and relative lightness. We took this one the CDT and GET and it took both of those trails to finally break it. We used it constantly and beat it up pretty well. I particularly like it for the flexible legs because the outside surfaces are not always flat. REI claims it is 2.5 ounces.
Joby also has a “micro” version of the GripTight. However, while smaller and lighter, it lacks versatility. As phones get heavier, these lighter stands will often not balance when they aren’t level. The claimed weight is 1.6 ounces.
Another popular small phone tripod is the Manfrotto Mini Tripod. While this tripod has more fixed legs when expanded, it has a ball below the universal phone holder to make the camera level. This one is a bit heftier with a claimed weight of 7 ounces.
If you already have a luxury item and cannot afford the weight of another, you can get creative with the natural landscape. For years, we didn’t think it was worth it to carry a tripod. And, let’s face it, 5 or 10 years ago, they really were still too heavy.
You’d be surprised what you can do with a few rocks. You can grab a few and stack them to hold your phone in position for a photo. But, always remember to re-scatter them after you’re finished.
I’ve also found rock ledges particularly useful because they often have nooks that can hold a phone. Sometimes you need a small rock to hold the phone at the right angle, but with some creativity, they work great.
If you’ve planned a hike on a more popular trail, chances are that where you want a photo, someone else will, too. Most people will not mind snapping a photo for you if you ask nicely. I often find another solo person or a couple and ask them. Couples can’t always get photos with both of them in it, so they’re usually willing to take a photo for you and you can take one in exchange.
Don’t be afraid to ask. The worst they can say is no and you can just ask the next person.
Bonus Tip #1
Use a combo of 1 & 2! Temporarily stack rocks to get your ultralight tripod to the right height. While my favorite Joby tripod is fantastic, sometimes I want a photo from a different perspective. Occasionally, we’ll set it up on a rock or two to get an extra foot of height. The Joby with flexible legs can also use tree branches to get a different angle as well.
You can also use the flexible legs on fence posts for trail markers or those pesky barbed wire fences on some national scenic trails. We will often use the flexi legs to get a photo we otherwise wouldn’t be able to get in the middle of nowhere.
Bonus Tip #2
Instead of setting your phone’s timer, hit record on a video. That way, you don’t have to run to your position and possibly hurt yourself in the process. You can also set your video quality to 4K.
If you use a video, you can try multiple poses – just be sure to pause between them for a few seconds. Once you have the photos you want, you can walk back and stop the video.
Often, we will immediately trim the video to take out the extra portions and not take up extra space. Then, you can find the photo you want, pause the video, and screenshot it.
The best part? You can take as many screenshots as you’d like.
Conclusion: Plan Ahead and Take Those People Pictures!
A long time ago, while I was hiking the AT in 2010, I ran into someone who had thru-hiked in the past. I asked him if he would have done anything differently. He told me that he wished he had taken more photos of the hikers he met along the way. He wanted those “boring” photos of people cooking dinner at a shelter, snacking at a viewpoint, sitting on a random log by the trail. All those landscape photos he took? He liked a few. That really stuck with me and I hope that it will stick with you.
So bring that tripod, get creative with some rocks, or shamelessly ask other hikers to take a photo for you. Those are the pictures that will matter in the long run.
]]>
Let us start by taking a look at what most would agree to be a basic beginner backpacking set up. Starting off you will need a good pack that will carry all of your needs comfortably and is adequately sized for the contents.
When deciding what pack to use, start with laying out all of the equipment that you plan to take along and then select the properly sized pack for the job. I see many new backpackers with lots of “wants” hanging precariously off of their ill sized backpack, most of which is still in the original wrapper.
In my opinion and experience leading many trips a 30 liter backpack would be the minimum size that the average backpacker can get away with without sacrificing too much comfort, A pack with a volume of 40-45 liters seems to fit the bill best for the group hikes that I am involved with. Look for one that has adequate suspension, including load lifters, and enough pockets to hold what you plan to bring.
Pictured below is a Six Moons Designs Flight 30 Ultra that I took recently on a 4 day trip along Michigan’s 42 mile pictured Rocks National Lakeshore trip.
Pack along lakeshore
For beginners I like to think of systems in the pack rather than individual items. I first learned of this type of thinking reading The Complete Walker by the late and great Collin Fletcher. Next let’s look at the sleep system. This will include something to sleep in/under (tent, hammock, or tarp). Something to sleep on (air or foam mattress). Something to insulate you ( sleeping bag or backpacking quilt. With having a couple of these options you will be able to stay out in a variety of weather conditions. For example in weather where good weather and minimal bugs are expected you will enjoy the freedom of a tarp, quilt, and a quality mattress. If bugs are expected then switch out the tarp for a tent with netting.
On my recent trip I chose the Six Moons Designs Haven Bundle and chose it because of the expected black flies and rain so that I had a comfortable Haven from both. It is great to have enough room to sit up and sort your gear while it is raining or when your hiking partner yells like a banshee in the middle of the night because of night terrors or he hears a porcupine wandering through camp.
Haven Bundles set up in camp
For our kitchen system we think of a stove, cookpot, fuel canister, eating utensil, scrubbing cloth, food sack with a hanging system, and unusually a cup.
Sometimes in inclimate weather it pays to have a cookpot and stove system that is an all in one unit while in fair weather it is easy to get by with a small titanium cookpot (750ml or so) and a lightweight stove. The eating utensil can be made of a variety of materials including titanium, steel, plastic or even bamboo, those a type and size that fits you and can easily reach the farthest corners of your food container or pouch.
Based on where you plan to hike and what kinds of critters are present you may need to keep your food in either a bear canister, storage locker, or hanging in a suspended bag on a provided cable system. Make sure to check in with the local guidelines and adhere to them.
On a recent hike to the Smoky Mountains National Park we camped on a ridge campsite and hung our food from the provided cable system. A week later at the same site a man was bitten by a bear as he slept in a hammock because he had kept food in his pockets.
Kitchen set up
The closet of your pack is all the extra clothing and hygiene items. This is dependent on weather but these are the things I will always have on an overnight. While hiking:lightweight boots or trail runners with wool socks, synthetic or merino wool baselayer, synthetic shorts or pants, and sometimes wearing an insulative layer. In my pack and inside a waterproof bag will be a second set of base layers, including socks, a fleece or puffy vest,a rain/wind layer, and dry clothes to sleep in. It is very important for a good night's sleep and to ward off the cold that you have a warm and dry set of at least base layers to change into. For hygiene the minimum I would recommend is toothbrush and toothpaste, and a microfiber towel to wash with. Beyond this you will need a kit to take care of your bathroom needs, this will involve at least a trowel and toilet paper or possible biodegradable wipes or a bidet. Based on my experience, the thought of having to go to the bathroom in the woods is the single most prevalent reason that people do not stay overnight in the woods. As silly as it may sound this is something that should be practiced before you go on a multi night trip.
Closet contents
The office includes all the things that you may need to access along the way and should be stored either in the hip belt pockets or an easily accessible pocket on the side of the pack. This should include water bottles and disinfection system, a self aid/repair kit, charging bank and phone, map and compass, headlamp, sunblock and or insect repellent, snacks for on the trail, and a small knife.
Office contents
With the unending availability of equipment out there it is easy to get overwhelmed and think that you need every last gadget available. I hope that this list will get you started with what you need and from there you can add the wants and comfort items as you wish. My last recommendation is that you get everything out of the package and try it out before you go. Make sure all the items work and you know how to set them up. When you are confident setting up your tent in the daylight try it in the dark, when you have that mastered try it with a blindfold on. Many campers have stumbled into camp after dark with no juice left in their headlamp and had to set up a tent in the pitch dark. Better to know before you go than to be the person experiencing that on the trail. Try out your compass and know how to orient a map, before your cell phone dies on the third day and you have to refer to it.
]]>
As a Wilderness Ranger at Zion National Park, I’d be hard pressed to find a better office. Half my days are spent in the backcountry of the park, patrolling the trails and canyons that make up the 124,000 acres of wilderness. The other half is spent at the Visitor Center where I issue permits for the vast array of recreation that Zion offers.
A day in the life of a ranger has changed a bit since their inception. Often regarded as the first form of protection for National Parks, the Buffalo Soldiers protected areas in the Sierra Nevada that would soon become Yosemite, Sequoia, and Kings Canyon National Parks. The massive forest fires of 1910 then brought new demand for human-powered work, where men were brought in to battle the blazes that spread throughout Idaho, Montana, and Washington. While the National Forest Service (now known as the United States Forest Service) was formed in 1905, it wasn't until 1916 when President Woodrow Wilson signed the official act that created the National Park Service.
Rangers’ duties are as unique as the parks that they protect. It is often stated that our job is “to protect the park from the people, and the people from the park.” Our patrols vary from day to day, but our main goal is to help preserve the Zion Wilderness for generations to come. This can look like cleaning up litter, human waste, and illegal campfires, or performing Preventative Search and Rescue (PSAR) on the trails, helping people find the nearest spring or identifying suitable endeavors for the underprepared visitor.
One of the most popular routes in the park, The Narrows, can be hiked in several ways. While 99% of visitors will attempt a short hike in from the bottom, the option exists to hike from the “top,” beginning at Chamberlain’s Ranch and making the 17-mile trek down to the Temple of Sinawava. A true gem of the park, the Virgin River has created a picturesque slot canyon, where sandstone walls tower hundreds of feet overhead. A bucket-list hike for many adventurers, completing The Narrows from the top offers a unique experience of solitude and self-reliance. Most years, the hike is straightforward, with few swims required. The winter of 2022/2023 brought over 300% of the annual precipitation to the area, creating a unique set of challenges. Flows remained exceptionally high through the summer, making travel through the Narrows far more difficult than usual, with a great amount of swimming and wading required. Groups had been struggling to complete the trip, often spending an unexpected night in the canyon, and occasionally spending multiple nights. While temps in Zion regularly exceed 100°f, the canyon can be cold and unforgiving. So, when a coworker and I were tasked with an overnight patrol, we went in prepared to pack out more trash and human waste (yes, I'm talking about poop) than usual.
And right we were. We got an early start up at Chamberlains Ranch, and all was smooth sailing for the first half of the day. It wasn’t until after our lunch break that we ran into our first bump in the road. This came in the form of a family that had already spent their first night camped out several miles before their assigned site. With kids in tow, they had underestimated the challenges the hike would bring. Almost completely out of food and potable water, we offered them some of our food and water and some encouraging words and continued on our way.
After reaching the confluence of Deep Creek and the North Fork of the Virgin River, the first of twelve campsites pop up. The sites in The Narrows are above the floodplain, but still, site one had been virtually destroyed by spring flooding. This is a stark reminder of just how powerful water can be. I ponder what it must have been like earlier in the season, as water carved its way through the canyon, bringing massive amounts of debris and sediment through the area. We have ourselves a quick swim break and continue down the canyon.
Sites pop up intermittently and we stop at each one to assess any damage, pick up trash, and appreciate each area's unique characteristics. Some sites have perfect swimming holes, others have flat rocks prime for a backcountry kitchen. I take mental notes, knowing that sites can change from season to season. At each site, I imagine spending a night there with friends. Where I would choose to camp, where I would place the warm beer in the river to cool off while I set up my tent. These are things I consider when people come to the Wilderness Desk to pick up their permit. “Oh, you’re at site 10? There’s an excellent swimming hole near the large boulder around the bend. Site 6? Lots of exploring to do up Kolob Creek.” It’s like becoming a regular at your local coffee shop, able to recommend the best drink to the person behind you in line. What a fortunate position I am in to feel like a local in such a remarkable place.
Sometime in the late afternoon, we make it to camp. We shed our uniforms and took another swim. After a snack, we carefully select our sleeping spots for the night. Willows and maples surround our site, creating a beautifully secluded nook for us to rest. I quickly set up my Haven Net Tent. Knowing that clear skies were expected through the night, I opted out of a tarp. One of my favorite features of the Haven is the option to enjoy unobstructed views of the sky while I drift off to sleep, knowing I can quickly reconfigure and add the Haven Tarp if monsoons roll in. Coming in at a tiny 34 ounces, this sleeping system adds little to my standard base weight. As rangers, we are required to carry a lot of extra gear in case of emergency, so any weight I can shed is a welcome relief. The rest of the night is filled with stories of close calls and bad jokes between my coworker and me. As the skies turn black, we lay in the dirt and stare at the sky, recounting any constellations we see above us. Before long, I retire to my tent, grateful for whatever decisions I have made that have landed me in this exact spot.
Morning arrives. Coffee. Dinosaur egg oatmeal. Electrolytes. We breakdown camp and put our uniforms back on. Mornings are cool in The Narrows. A small part of me dreads getting in the river, while another part of me is excited to see what the day brings. We make it to Big Springs not too long after we begin. Big Springs happens to be one of my favorite places on Earth. Water coming from this spring has been slowly making its way through the sandstone for hundreds of years, eventually coming to a less permeable rock layer, where it flows out as a picturesque waterfall covered in moss and ferns. It also marks the ending point of the bottom-up hike for those that choose to complete the 10-mile round trip hike up from the Temple of Sinawava. We chat with a few other backpackers that are enjoying the last bit of solitude before reaching the hordes of day hikers that lie below. My coworker and I have a snack and wait for the sun to finally stretch its rays into the canyon. To me, Big Spring is heaven on Earth. I could spend hours there, listening to the birds sing and the river whisper all around me. But alas, we must continue on our hike. We do our due diligence and have a look in the nooks and crannies that we know people go to hide from other hikers. Without fail, we find trash, toilet paper, and the gross stuff often accompanying toilet paper. All we can do is make some jokes, pick it up, and continue on our way.
Just around the bend from Big Spring, we stumbled upon a sleeping bag and pillow that had been shoved into a small corner of the canyon. We exchange some frustrated words, rock, paper, scissors over who takes what, and do our best to shove the discarded items into our packs. Did I mention that having a lightweight tent to save weight and space is really, really nice? If it weren’t for the fact that my sleeping system took up so little space, packing all this junk out would be a lot more of a pain. After a few more choice words, we forge on.
The rest of the afternoon is filled with day hikers, more trash, and a few mandatory swims due to high water. The frustrating truth is that most day hikers do not anticipate having to, ahem… go #2… while in The Narrows. This means a big part of our patrols in said Narrows is picking up after those people. Not all that glitters is gold, people! I love my job. I really do! But with all the Leave No Trace outreach done by the National Park Service, it baffles me how much waste we carry out. I don’t want to harp on this too hard because I understand how gross it is, but next time you see a park ranger and think they have the dreamiest job on the planet, remember this blog post. At the end of each Narrows patrol, we measure the waste we carry out in pounds. Anway, I digress.
As we go, we chat with day hikers, answer questions, and stumble our way back to the trailhead. 16 miles in a river is a lot. My coworker and I confirm with each other that the hike is, in fact, in “hard mode” due to the aforementioned high-water levels. We stroll the one-mile paved Riverside Walk back to the trailhead, hop on the shuttle, and make our final journey back to Headquarters.
Being a Wilderness Ranger at Zion can be a very hot and cold experience, both literally and figuratively. The desert is a place of extremes, and maybe that’s why I have such a strong appreciation for it. Even Park Rangers are visitors to these magical areas, simply moving through the ever-changing landscapes of America’s most treasured places.
]]>
Armed with a map and internet access, I dove into creating multiple possible trip itineraries in both directions, knowing that the odds of any one campsite being available were slim. While you don’t need a permit to hike the trail, you can only camp in designated campsites along the way. For those coveted patches of dirt, you do need a permit. The beauty of this type of backpacking trip is that you know exactly where you are going to sleep every night. The difficulty, of course, is in obtaining the permits.
Based upon the hiking I had been doing over the past several months (including a 5-day trip on the Oregon Coast Trail, which deserves its own special write-up), I decided I could do the trail in 4 full days. I packed up a food bag with four days of food, organized my gear in my backpack, and Pierre (my van) and I departed for Rainier on Monday, July 24th. My original plan was to camp outside the park near the White River entrance and arrive at the White River Ranger Station early Tuesday morning to stand in line and figure out if I could get enough campsite permits in the right places to make this work. As I got closer, I decided to go ahead and stop by the ranger station on Monday to gather information. Around 4:00 pm, I dropped into the park in drizzle and fog. The only things visible were the road and the wildflowers bursting with color alongside it. If a huge volcano slumbered close by, I was none the wiser. Rainier had chosen not to show herself on this day. There were no cars in line at the White River Entrance Station, nor was anyone in the White River Ranger Station except the rangers. I pulled out my map and my proposed itineraries and declared, “I want to backpack the Wonderland Trail!”- surely a phrase they hear multiple times per day. Lucky for me, they were kind and patient. As an Americorps intern pulled up the reservation system, the more seasoned ranger and I mulled over the map. “Are you sure you want to do it in 4 days? Where do you normally backpack? What have you done?” The ranger grilled me on my backpacking resume to make sure he knew exactly what I was capable of before agreeing to help me find a 4-day itinerary. After multiple attempts at a counterclockwise loop, we kept ending up with me doing 30-plus miles on the last day. Before I simply committed to that endeavor, we flipped it around and lo and behold, doing it clockwise would result in more evenly spaced days. I paid the $6 permit fee and walked out clutching my permit within half an hour of walking in. WHAT? I felt like the luckiest woman in the world! To me, the hardest part of this adventure was surely overcoming the obstacle of the permitting process… I was mistaken.
July 25, 2023. Day 1: White River Campground to Maple Creek Camp. 21.5 miles (4800 ft up/6500 ft down)
I began my hike on a cool, foggy morning with much excitement inside. I couldn’t believe I had scored permits to complete the Wonderland Trail. Within 5 minutes, I came to my first glacial river crossing over White River. The river was roaring, and the bridge sat only a few inches above the rushing water. Here we go! I soon found myself on a meandering trail covered in pine needles and surrounded by large trees. I practically skipped down the trail with joy. After several miles, I began the climb up to Panhandle Gap, which is the highest point on the Wonderland Trail at 6800 ft. For someone who lives near the San Juan Mountains in Colorado, this didn’t seem that high, until I realized I was climbing up from 3000 feet! I climbed and climbed through the mist and fog until I was above the treeline and merely following footprints across small snow fields to find the trail. As I got higher in the rocky steep terrain, I came across another hiker with a daypack, who quickly recognized my socks that had a Colorado logo on them and struck up a conversation. I was glad for the company as we traversed this section of trail- there was one particular sketchy snowfield that was not technically difficult but felt more daunting in the misty conditions. When we reached the top, we were greeted with an incredible view– of fog. Oh well! I felt bad for my new friend because he was just doing a day hike, but I knew I had many more views ahead. We said goodbye and I continued down. And down. And down. It was dramatic. I kept dropping so far that I was sure I would hit the sea. Indeed, the trail was living up to its name as I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Finally, the trail leveled off and I hiked right into Maple Creek campground- my home for night one. There were only 4 tent sites and one group site at this backcountry camp and they were all full. The National Park Service has done an excellent job at providing bear poles to hang food (awkward hooks til you get the hang of it!) and composting toilets at each campground and this one had a flowing creek close by. I started the ritual of setting up camp- dumping out the entire contents of my pack, pitching my Lunar Solo tent, arranging my bedding, and slapping at the flies and mosquitoes as they gradually sniffed out my fresh blood. I watched as the hikers next to me dried out clothes and sleeping bags on lines strung from trees- they had been caught in the rain that fell the day I drove into the Park. I was grateful that the skies were clearing and hoped they would remain so.
July 26, 2023. Day 2: Maple Creek Camp to South Puyallup River Camp. 22.8 miles. (6450 ft up/5144 ft down)
After breakfast, I began the hike out and up from Maple Creek Camp. The trail was steep and simply carved into washed-out sections of steep terrain in spots. Some waterfalls dotted the otherwise forested path as we climbed up to Reflection Lakes. AHA! Suddenly, I found myself out of the trees and staring straight at the snow-covered peak of Mt. Rainier. The sky was a deep blue and the air was as clear as spring water. It was a sight worth waiting for. A side trail led to Lake Louise and I, not wanting to pass up a lake view, took it. I then slightly cursed myself as I added more feet to the already stout elevation profile. Yes, let’s talk about the elevation profile for a moment which, during my preparation time, I failed to take into account. I suppose I felt a little overconfident from a life lived in the San Juan mountains. You may even say I was arrogantly naive to assume that a hike around the base of a volcano that never went over 7,000 feet wouldn’t have a challenging elevation profile. How wrong I was. That first day was just an introduction to the up up up and down down down down of this trail. The second day was a test of strength.
After pausing to admire Reflection Lakes, the trail once again descended as it meandered through deep forests toward the Longmire Visitor Center. As I approached the visitor center, I began to encounter groups of day hikers making the trek up to the waterfalls that were only a few miles journey from the parking area. Whenever I backpack, I always find it weird when I suddenly see people on trails with no backpack and missing the unpolished look of someone who slept in the woods. It seems like they all smell so fresh and clean- the laundry detergent and deodorant emanating from them when, in everyday life, I wouldn’t notice. Likewise, whenever I am day hiking and see a backpacker, I feel a little bit of envy at the adventures they must be having. I took the detour to the Longmire Lodge to get some fresh water and drool over food I couldn’t buy because I failed to pack any money or a credit card on this trip.
From Longmire, the trail once again climbs up and up past Devil’s Dream Campground and up to Mirror Lakes. Unlike the trek to Longmire, this stretch of trail was empty of hikers and I felt quite alone out there for several miles. As I approached the turnoff to Mirror Lakes trail, I came into a beautiful meadow with wildflowers and gentle streams with little wooden bridges to cross. A patrol cabin sits in one of those meadows near Indian Henry’s hunting ground and I felt as though I was looking at a painting with Rainier in the background, the light perfectly illuminating its peak. I dropped in elevation once again and began to hear the rushing waters of another glacial river- Tahoma Creek. In the place of the familiar wooden bridge for this crossing, hung a very tall and very long suspension bridge. The Tahoma Creek Suspension Bridge is 200 ft long and hangs 165 ft above the river- which feels even further as the bridge shakes and bounces with every footfall across. I quickened my steps, edged my hands along the cables, and reassured myself out loud as I made my way to the other side. Whew! The exhilaration of that crossing jolted me out of the walking nap I’d been taking down from Indian Henry’s hunting ground. This turned out to be a good thing, as I began the next climb up the steep terrain to Emerald Ridge. Once again, I was in awe at the view from the ridge, which was green with grass and wildflowers- a stark contrast to the rocky glacial terrain around the volcano. I lingered for a moment but had already covered over 20 miles for the day and was ready to take off my shoes and set up camp. The two-mile drop from Emerald Ridge to South Puyallup River Camp was steep and loose and anything but easy, but the lure of my final destination for the day pulled me on. Unlike the previous night, this backcountry camp was empty when I arrived, despite it being close to 6:00 p.m. After setting up my home for the night, I decided to take a closer look at the map and elevation profile for the next two days. Upon realizing that I had a lot of feet to climb and descend in my future, I ate some extra squares of chocolate and climbed into my sleeping bag.
July 27, 2023. Day 3. South Puyallup River Camp to Eagle’s Roost Camp. 23 miles (5974 ft up/5016 ft down)
I set out from camp ready for the familiar routine of climbing up to alpine views and descending deep into forests and down to rivers. Like the previous day, I started with a climb up to Klapatche Park and then a descent down to the North Puyallup River. This descent brought a little extra spice with some fallen trees to go under, over, and around, as well as some overgrown sections to forge through. I finally saw a few other people making their way up in the opposite direction. It’s always a little strange when you haven’t spoken to anyone in about 18 hours and open your mouth. As is usually the case, we chatted about where we’d been and what we’d seen for the other party to look forward to. From the North Puyallup River, the trail climbs at a nice even grade up to Golden Lakes. My legs felt strong from two days of tough hiking, and I powered up to a nice meandering trail that led to the lakes. Suddenly, I felt a pain in my left shin- not too sharp, but annoyed. I walked on and, as it improved slightly, I silently willed it to work itself out. Golden Lakes seemed an appropriate place to take a break for water filtering and lunch. Another patrol cabin sat between the lake and the trail, and I was surprised to see the door open, and a gentleman walk out on the porch. Hello! He said that he donates money to assist with trail maintenance and got to stay in the cabin for a night as a thank you. I smiled and thanked him for his generosity. The descent from Golden Lakes was full of long, gentle switchbacks that lulled me into a sleepy trance. I sang to myself and talked to the trees until I ran into some trail runners coming up from the other direction. Better make sure I appear sane, I thought. I reached the South Mowich River at an elevation of only 2600 feet. This river was wider than many of the others and the trail meandered through the rocks for a while. I was low on water and decided to filter out of the river and hope that the silt didn’t result in a clog. Another runner came by and stopped to chat. It turns out that he was part of a company called Aspire Adventures that was hosting a group of runners who would complete the trail in 3 days. Of course, they didn’t have to carry anything more than water and snacks as they would be provided food and sleeping quarters in the nights between the runs. Sounded pretty nice to me! Finally, I re-packed my filter and snacks for the final climb of the day. The rangers had suggested I take an alternative trail- the Spray Park Trail- to complete the loop. I was assured that the views were well worth the detour, so I took the recommendation. This meant that my camp that night would be at Eagle’s Roost, about 1.5 miles down the Spray Park Trail. If I stayed on the Wonderland Trail proper, I would go through the Mowich Lake area where there was an entrance and ranger station. The climbs were becoming routine, but my left shin, which had quieted down on the descent, began talking loudly to me. How could I be getting a shin splint? I felt my anxiety heighten but kept putting one foot in front of the other. As soon as I turned onto the Spray Park Trail, it was like I’d entered another world. I passed one group of day hikers after another. I hadn’t seen so many people in one place since Longmire and it felt odd after the solitude of the day. Suspecting that there may not be a close water source at the campsite, I filled up at one of the many streams I crossed along the way. While filtering, an older couple stopped to ask me about my journey and confirmed my suspicion and said that it looked like the closest water source to the camp was a quarter mile uphill- too far after a full day’s hike!
Eagle’s Roost Camp is perched on the side of a ridge among large conifer trees. Several hikers had already set up, but I found a peaceful spot to call home. I got to the business of setting up camp and then spent a while stretching, massaging, and cajoling my shin to feel better. I knew that my last day on the trail was going to be one of the hardest and I really hoped I wouldn’t have to limp through it. I went to bed feeling a little uneasy and set my alarm to get an earlier start.
July 28, 2023. Day 4. Eagle’s Roost Camp to White River Campground. 23 miles (6788 ft up/7274 ft down)
I awoke before my alarm and gingerly felt my shin. No pain! I crawled out of my sleeping bag to retrieve my food bag from the bear pole. No pain! Relief flooded through me as I happily made my last cup of coffee and oatmeal on the trail.
The Spray Park Trail did not disappoint. I climbed up to the alpine meadows while the sky glowed pink with the sunrise. Not a soul did I see in those first 5 miles, and I just took in the views of Rainier from the northern side. As was expected, the alpine terrain and views of the volcano disappeared as I descended down toward the Carbon River. The trail fell steeply, with large boulder steps and roots to navigate. By this point, I’d grown accustomed to the undulations of the Wonderland Trail, and the thought of a cold beer and cozy bed at the end of this day propelled me further. Another suspension bridge awaited me when I finally reached the Carbon River, but I crossed this one with more confidence and bravery. Climbing up and past Carbon Glacier was as steep as the trail had been and I marveled at the amount of water melting out of the glacier’s mouth. I came upon some of the runners from the Aspire group and found out that one of them was a doctor at Indian Health Services in Shiprock, NM, where I had once worked. Sometimes, the world seems so small. The fact that my shin pain had cleared so quickly made me so ecstatic that the climbs didn’t feel as steep as they had the previous days. Before I knew it, I found myself back up in the alpine terrain near Sunrise Visitor Center. The views from here were spectacular and reminded me a bit of the high country near Durango, Colorado- dirt paths cut into an otherwise sublime landscape crisscrossing up and down the mountains. By the time I started to see the day hikers coming up to the numerous trails that intersected with the Wonderland Trail, I realized I wasn’t quite ready for my hike to end. The simplicity of being on a beautiful trail with all you need on your back is so comforting, despite the physical discomfort that sometimes seeps in along the way. I dropped down past Sunrise and began the final descent into White River Campground. The last 3 miles were on a gentle grade through a forest and all of a sudden, I stepped onto the pavement and into the White River Campground. Just like that, it was done. Even though I’d hiked over 22 miles with almost 7,000 feet of climbing, I felt amazing and almost fresh. That’s the beauty of the hike. Without any fanfare, I pulled off my dirty shoes, put my backpack and trekking pole into my van, Pierre, and drove out of the park to find a spot to sleep for the night. I knew I’d sleep well and have a lazy morning over coffee while reflecting on the amazing adventure I’d just had. I had high expectations for the Wonderland Trail, and it truly delivered. I would recommend this trail for both new and experienced backpackers, as there are plenty of options to extend the time to complete it, along with places along the trail to cache food.
Gear List:
Pack: Six Moon Designs Swift V
Shelter: Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo
Trekking pole- Black Diamond Distance Carbon Z (just one that also doubled as the pole for my shelter)
Bag: Enlightened Equipment Revelation Sleeping Quilt with Cocoon Silk sleeping bag liner
Pillow: Sea to Summit Aeros Ultralight
Water System: 2L HydraPak bladder in the pack with Sawyer Squeeze filter and 2L Cnoc water bag for collecting from water source (I use an adaptor to filter the water through the hose of my bladder, which saves the effort of removing it from the pack. Highly recommend).
Stove: BRS Backpacking stove (plus small fuel canister)
Cook set: GSI Halulite Minimalist
Clothing: Rain jacket and pants, light down jacket, one pair shorts, one t-shirt, one long-sleeved sun shirt, 2 pairs of underwear, 3 pairs hiking socks, warm hat and light gloves, baseball cap and sunglasses
Shoes: Topos Mountain Racer 2
Watch: Coros Apex Pro
Food: Lots
Kindle
Small Flask of whiskey
Homemade first aid kit
Sunscreen
Bug spray
Bear spray
]]>
The Big Pine Lakes are a series of stunning glacial lakes nestled in the John Muir Wilderness, which is part of the Inyo National Forest in California. This natural paradise is renowned for its pristine alpine environment, dominated by the majestic Palisade Crest—a line of rugged peaks that soar above 14,000 feet. The lakes themselves are a sight to behold, with their shimmering turquoise waters that reflect the sunlight, thanks to the glacial silt.
When it comes to trails, Big Pine Lakes offers a variety of options, each with its own unique vistas and challenges. The most popular route is the North Fork Trail, stretching about 7.5 miles and featuring seven major lakes along the way. As you traverse the trail, you'll encounter lush meadows, dense pine forests, and rocky terrain, all while being treated to breathtaking views of the surrounding peaks and valleys. For our trip this year we would only be visiting the first three lakes due to the huge snowpack of 2023.
When looking for a campsite, there are many great options at the first three lakes. However the further back you go, the more solitude you’ll get. Lake two is the go-to destination here with many backpackers and hikers looking for that iconic shot of Temple Crag above Lake two.
For the more adventurous hikers, an extension to the North Fork Trail leads to Palisade Glacier, the southernmost glacier in the United States. This challenging trek rewards hikers with unparalleled views of the glacier and the rugged Palisade Crest—an experience that will leave you in awe.
Before you set out on your backpacking journey to Big Pine Lakes, it's crucial to be well-prepared. Here are some tips to ensure your adventure is safe and enjoyable:
Firstly, make sure to obtain the necessary permits from the Inyo National Forest or the local ranger station. This helps ensure you're compliant with regulations and allows for effective management of visitor numbers to protect the delicate ecosystem. Permits are offered 6 months in advance and will sell out within minutes of them going on sale.
As the Big Pine Lakes are situated at high altitudes, ranging from 7,000 to 12,000 feet, it's important to acclimate yourself gradually to prevent altitude sickness. Spend some time at a lower elevation before starting your hike.
Water is crucial, so ensure you drink enough water and carry a water filtration system as well. Plan to bring at least two liters of water per person per day. Dehydrated meals, energy bars, nuts, and dried fruits are great choices to keep your energy levels up throughout the journey. Store your food securely in bear canisters, as trees to do a proper bear hang are far and few between.
Respect the pristine beauty of Big Pine Lakes by following the principles of Leave No Trace. Pack out all your trash, dispose of waste properly, and minimize your impact on the environment. Stick to designated camping spots and avoid damaging vegetation or disturbing wildlife.
So, pack your backpack, lace up your hiking boots, and embark on a journey to one of the most picturesque spots in all of California.
]]>But over the next couple weeks, I had enough time to reflect and realize that, while I would have more than enough opportunity to catch up on work over the course of my life, the chances to visit a new continent and experience new cultures and natural landscapes don’t necessarily come that often, and I should take this one while I could. So I negotiated the time off with my manager (successfully, thankfully), and we booked our flights to Cape Town.
Table Mountain and Lion’s Head, two icons of the South African landscape
Kalysha and I had a total of about six weeks to spend in South Africa. It was enough time to really settle in and experience the people, land, and wildlife of the area with some depth, but given the massive size of the country, we still had a lot of ground to cover. We flew in and out of Cape Town, the second largest city in the country that sits at the southern tip of Africa. From there, we flew to Durban, another large city on the Indian Ocean where Kalysha needed to get some work done and my only priorities were to explore the beautiful coastline and forests of KwaZulu-Natal province. From Durban, we visited as much of the country as we could by driving back to Cape Town, making stops along the way for hiking trips in the dramatic Drakensberg mountains, through the deserts of the Free State province, and along the picturesque beaches of the Garden State.
Our travel route to see as much of South Africa as possible. Image: Google Maps
I didn’t go anywhere on this trip without my Six Moon Designs Wy’East. I’ve loved this pack ever since I carried the original model in robic nylon for over 2,100 miles on the Appalachian Trail. I like the minimalist aesthetic, handy shoulder pockets, and bomb-proof construction. My newest model is made out of EPX200, which is even more waterproof than the original and includes a few thoughtful upgrades from the previous iteration like a loop for stashing an ice axe or umbrella, and an inner zip pocket that’s more than big enough to fit a passport and other valuables.
Throughout our time in South Africa, Kalysha used the Six Moon Designs Flight 30, which she loves because the vest-style straps prevent shoulder and neck pain that plague her chronically when she uses packs with traditional shoulder straps.
Although my original plans changed and I didn’t actually end up doing any camping on this trip, I carried my Six Moon Designs Gatewood Cape (and the rest of my usual sleep system) the whole way. It’s probably some kind of ultralight sin of the highest order to carry so much unused gear, but it’s a testament to how light and packable all this stuff is that I was able to bring a whole extra extra shelter and sleep system in my carry-on luggage without issue.
The Six Moon Designs Wy’East in the Drakensberg Mountains
We spent a total of 37 days in South Africa and everyday I shot photos and wrote some words about our travels so that I could share the experience with folks back home. I hope you’ll enjoy a few of these highlights.
After sleeping off the long trip from Canada, we woke up on our first day in Cape Town and popped into town for coffee and breakfast and got to know our new surroundings. The city was socked in a dense fog, but I could feel it start to burn off as the sun started to heat up. Our breakfast of vegan French toast and eggs Benedict at a spot called We Cafe was perfect.
We were staying on the edge of town within walking distance of the trail network in Table Mountain National Park, so we were in a great position to head out around midday on our first objective of the trip and hike to the summit of Lion’s Head, a very prominent peak overlooking the city. It was a steep trail, at times exposed and making its way up the mountain assisted by chains and ladders. The whole day, as the weather cleared up, we were mesmerized by the clouds that blew in from the ocean, drifted over the mountain peaks, and evaporated as they drifted down into Cape Town.
The Lion’s Head summit was beautiful, and the view of Table Mountain dominating the landscape above the city was the highlight. After Lion’s Head, we walked over to the summit of Signal Hill where families drove up the road to enjoy the views we had hiked for, and paragliders launched out over the ocean. We descended from the hill during golden hour, the skies now completely clear, and admired the way the fading sunlight lit up Lion’s Head – where we had been up that morning – and the town below.
Descending Lion’s Head, with Table Mountain and Cape Town in the background
We woke up on our first morning at the Cathedral Peak Hotel to cloudy weather, the nearby peaks of the Drakensberg hidden in the mist. So we weren’t in too much of a hurry to get out of bed, and enjoyed coffee in our room while some curious bushbucks (like mini deer) showed up on our porch to hang out.
We visited Doreen Falls, hiking on some pleasant but rough trails, seemingly made just from years of people and animals tramping over the grassy hills. The clouds never opened up enough for the landscape around us to completely reveal itself, but what we could see sure was nice. I did a lap of the “jogging trail” (what makes it different from all the walking trails is unclear), we grabbed a quick lunch, and then left for our afternoon hike up to the geological formation called Mushroom Rock.
The trail took us steeply up the hills away from the hotel, high enough to get our first proper panorama of the surrounding area. We soaked in the scenery while listening to the slightly disturbing sound of baboons yelling in the distance. But the views didn’t last long as rain clouds moved in and it started to pour on us, so we headed back to the shelter and comfort of the hotel in time for afternoon tea, rest, and dinner.
It was a great first full day in the Drakensberg, and I’m stoked for the next few, especially since the forecast is calling for clear skies and sun.
The Drakensberg Escarpment hiding behind the clouds
We woke up on our first morning at the Witsieshoek Mountain Resort to a beautiful sunrise, although it was bitterly cold. We’re nearing winter here in the southern hemisphere, and that combined with the altitude and exposure to the wind here in the Drakensberg make for some chilly weather.
So we had a relaxed breakfast and waited for the sun to get a little higher in the sky before we properly got our day started. By the time we started our hike into the Mahai Valley in Royal Natal National Park, it was hot and only got hotter as the trail lost elevation. We meandered in and out along the contours of the valley, seeing how abruptly the vegetation changed and became more lush every time we crossed a creek, often next to a little waterfall, mostly dried out this late in the season.
We ascended out of the valley up a steep gulley called the Crack, with the help of a couple of wobbly chain ladders that stretched my comfort zone (but not too much). When we emerged from the Crack, we were on a wide open grassy plateau with wind that blew so hard we had to hold onto our hats. It was a beautiful sunny day, but the strength of the wind was a reminder that we were in a mountain environment where the weather demanded respect.
On the way back to the lodge, we came across a crew of people doing a controlled burn of a strip of grass, and we could smell the smoke long before we saw them. There was a funny moment when I wanted to take a picture of them but wasn’t sure if that would be impolite, then I realized they were taking pictures of us, so I waved and returned the favour. I guess we were as curious a sight for them as they were for us.
The howling wind we had felt earlier was a sign of things to come, as rain clouds gathered in the distance and the sound of thunder carried over the mountain peaks. Luckily, we made it back to the lodge before the skies opened up and it started pouring all around us. So we sat inside and warmed up a stool while the bartender told us stories about the lodge.
Horses grazing on the endless grasslands at the foothills of the Drakensberg
Because we were staying in a valley, it was late before the sun finally rose above the mountains around us and started shining on us and melting away the frost that had formed on the ground overnight. Our mission for the day was a big loop called the Wodehouse Trail, which took us up to a ridgeline about 400m higher than where we were staying. The walking was pleasant at first, but as we made our way up, the wind started whipping faster and faster until we could hardly stand up straight in it. I’ve never hiked in anything like it, and all we could do was be thankful it was a sunny day and keep trudging through it.
Other than the wind, it really was an incredible trail. Because we were walking along the ridge, the slope fell away from us on the left and the right and opened up to panaoramic views on both sides. When we could find spots sheltered from the wind, we sat and enjoyed the scenery of Golden Gate Highlands Nationak Park, and were entertained by looking at herds of wildlife we couldn’t identify running around in the distance.
After our hike, we hopped into the car and went on a couple of the scenic loop drives that the park has built up into the highlands. The highlight was seeing a group of zebras walking above the road. We also visited a bird hide where the park apparently sometimes leaves animal carcasses to attract some rare bearded vultures to study and watch, but we weren’t lucky enough to see any,
I finished up the big day by going on a short run up an informal trail I had seen through the grass up a hill next to our chalet. It was fun to experience the landscape at a different pace, and I was excited to see a wildebeest running away from me. I made it back to our accommodations just as the sun was dipping over the horizon, satisfied with a great day in the national park.
The towering sandstone cliffs of the Golden Gate Highlands
We woke to a peaceful, cold morning at Nyathi Rest Camp where we made breakfast and coffee before getting in the car and driving to the main part of the park for a guided game drive. Sitting in the back of an open-air vehicle, a professional guide from the park drove us all around the various paved and dirt roads of the northern part of the park in search of some wildlife.
Within minutes, we found a huge cape buffalo munching on some bushes right next to the road, and the guide switched off the engine to let us take pictures while he explained that it was most common to see them during cold mornings like this, while other animals are more likely to come out in the midday heat. He also told us that the buffalo were the most dangerous to humans of all the animals in the park!
The rest of our two-hour drive continued much like that, with us cruising along until we spotted something, and then stopping a bit to admire each different animal and get some info from our knowledgeable and friendly guide. We saw many kudu, red hartebeast, zebra, jackals, plenty of birds, warthogs (apparently also pretty dangerous to humans) and - the star of the show - elephants.
The highlight of the drive was seeing a small family of elephants, including a young one, eating some shrubs so close to us it felt like we could reach out and touch them. We were amazed to see how they had no problem chomping down on the thorniest and roughest bushes.
After the drive, we did a short loop walk called the Discovery Trail where we got to really realize how dense the bush was in the area, and how it would be impossible to get around without trails or roads. And then we finished the afternoon by doing our own self-guided game drive to some of the more far-flung corners of the park looking for some of the animals we hadn’t spotted yet. We didn’t end up seeing nearly as much as we did with the guide, but it was still fun to explore the park on our own.
To end the day, we fired up the braai at our cottage and cooked up a nice dinner while watching the sun go down over the bush around us.
The namesake of Addo Elephant National Park
It was a relatively warm morning at the Nature’s Valley Rest Camp compared to where we had been staying in previous weeks, now that we’re at sea level and close to the Indian Ocean. We made some breakfast and coffee using the basic facilities in our forest hut, and then went for a dayhike that looped along the Salt River, Rugpad, and Klanderkloof trails.
We started the day walking through the quaint seaside community of Nature’s Valley, which looked like an ideal place to stay in a cottage. It was one of the few towns we’ve seen in South Africa that didn’t have giant walls with electric fencing or barbed wire surrounding every property, meaning it was probably a pretty safe place.
Our first view of the ocean in Nature’s Valley was breathtaking. The morning sun illuminated the morning mist coming off of the big waves crashing into the fine, soft sandy beach that went on for a few kilometres. The beach was lined with vegetated sand dunes, and other than a couple fisherman and people swimming, it was totally empty despite how scenic it was.
After walking along the beach for a while, we managed some rock sections that were tricky (although manageable) because we happened to be passing through at high tide. We skirted the coastline until reaching the Salt River, which we forded before heading inland up the hill. At lower elevations, we walked through lush, humid forest that transitioned to dry bush along the upper ridges of the mountains where we could feel a cool breeze coming off the ocean.
When we made it back to Nature’s Valley in the afternoon we went to Blue Rocks, the only restaurant in town for a couple of delicious veggie burgers. And since it was the only restaurant in town, we happened to see all six of the other hikers we met throughout the day all there with the same idea as us.
To end the day, I took a relaxing walk around our campground before firing up the braai to make dinner under the stars.
Walking along the beach in Garden Route National Park
On our last day of our trip, we explored the coastal areas of the Cape Point section of Table Mountain National Park, a rocky peninsula south of Cape Town that juts out into the ocean and is the meeting point of the warm currents of the Indian Ocean and the cold currents of the Atlantic Ocean.
We visited the historic lighthouse along with the hundreds of other tourists who showed up in tour buses to ride the funicular and take pictures with the Cape of Good Hope sign. We walked on rocky cliffs above the ocean where we were buffeted by strong wind coming off the Atlantic and we spotted a right whale jumping in the distance. Finally, we visited the colony of African penguins at Boulders Beach before driving to the airport and dropping off the rental car.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
It was an exciting and full day to end a very special trip around the country. When we finally made it to the airport, I reflected on what a treat and a privilege it’s been to explore and stay in the beautiful landscapes around South Africa, mostly within the great national parks system. My feelings of privilege and gratitude for being able to visit these places is especially strong when I recognize that a lot of these experiences are not accessible for most of the residents of this country.
I expect that my memories of hiking in the Drakensberg mountains, walking on sandy beaches on the Indian Ocean, and seeing elephants, rhinos, and so much more will be ones that I’ll cherish all my life. And the fact that I was able to share the experience of these places with my partner made the whole thing doubly special.
When the idea of going on this trip first came up, I initially turned it down, feeling like it would be unmanageable, mostly because of how busy I was with work. But the thing I eventually realized, and which I understand intimately after my time here, is that we rarely get the opportunity to do stuff as cool as this, and they ultimately become the things we remember when we look back on our lives years down the road.
Clifftop boardwalks at the Cape of Good Hope on our last day in South Africa
]]>For a bit of background, I currently find myself traveling across the country with my girlfriend Elise in my 1990 Ford campervan, with the plan to hike, backpack, and climb across the Northwest. Our first stop was a little bit of climbing in South Dakota, with our main objective to spend most of the end of July and beginning of August in Wyoming. First stop in Wyoming was Ten Sleep Canyon, home to hundreds of rock climbing routes, and after a bit of research, we were presently surprised to find there was also quite a bit of alpine climbing and high mountains in the nearby Big Horn National Forest. Elise being the mountaineer of the pair, she came up with a plan for us to incorporate a little backpacking, rock climbing, and hopefully a little mountain summiting too. After seeing the weather for Ten Sleep approaching 100*s Fahrenheit for several days, the stage was set for our adventure into the alpine.
Francisco and Elise and Cloud Peak Wilderness Boundary
Our loose plans were formed around a trip report of combining several 13,000 foot peaks (Black Tooth Mountain, Cloud Peak), as well as our desire to add the technical summit of Mount Woolsey, with the possibility of linking in Bomber Peak if there was time (and energy). Information was limited so the plans were very loose since snow levels and actually scalable terrain would be the final deciding factor on the route. We started off on day 1 from the West Ten Sleep Lake Campground already at 9,000 ft elevation, to climb steadily along the Misty Moon Lake Trail, passing the beautifully wooded lower lakes of the Cloud Peak Wilderness on the shared approach to Cloud Peak. Instead of heading east-northeast to Cloud peak after about 7 miles, we went off track for another 7 miles to access the highest lake in the Middle Cloud Peak Lake Basin. 7 substantial miles of route finding, boulder hopping, and nightmare inducing spider hells. By this point the weight of all the snow, climbing, and backpacking gear was starting to weigh on me as well as the wear and tear on my feet from so much rock navigating under a nearly 45 lb load. Luckily, my SMD Swift-X carried all the gear comfortably and after 9 hours we made it to the 10th and final lake in the basin to set up camp at around 11,000 ft.
Overlooking the first of many alpine lakes in the wilderness
Finally at camp, and at the base of our prospective mountains, we were disappointed to see a large amount of steep snow lingering in the descent gully between Black Tooth Mountain and Woolsey, scrapping our chances of linking the two, or even climbing Black Tooth at all. Luckily the gully up to Woolsey was clear, and we kept up hopes that the weather would hold for an attempt on its summit in the morning. We were also able to put eyes on the gully system leading up the northwest ridge of Cloud Peak and found it far too steep and loose to attempt, which meant an inevitable return through bouldery spidery hell.
Navigating along the Misty Moon Trail
In the morning, we woke to see some haze way down in the desert valley thousands of feet below and knowing the heat of the day would lift that humidity we were not entirely hopeful we would have time to summit Woolsey. After checking the weather on our InReach, we were confirmed with a chance of thunderstorms around noon. It being early, we decided to start picking our way up the mountain and checking the weather and watching the clouds as we went. First up some boulders to a small snow field, then into the gully system to the top of the ridge and start of the climb to the top we went. Once on the ridge a few hours and 1100 feet later, we saw some unfriendly clouds forming, heavy winds and another weather check once again confirming bad weather. We decided we had gone as far as we were comfortable and turned back to camp.
Camp 1 at lake 10 at the base of Mount Woolsey
Once back down at the lake, we packed up our Haven and miscellaneous gear and tracked our way back to the Painted Rock Creek trail and the base of Cloud Peak. Early the next morning, we woke to a beautiful sunrise and started making our way up the mountain. The terrain was massively impressive, seemingly endless fields of boulders strewn across the southwest ridge of the mountain. 3 miles and 1900 feet up we went wandering this labyrinth to the summit featuring incredible 360* views of all the Big Horn Mountains. Too cold at that elevation and it being only 8:30 in the morning, we hurried back down to camp to pack up and hike back out to our van and make our way back to town for showers and food. All in all, an incredible adventure! Unfortunately the conditions didn’t allow us to meet all of our objectives, but the time in Cloud Peak Wilderness left us impressed with its grandeur and beauty.
Navigating Class 4 terrain on the morning of day 2 up the gulley for Mount Woolsey
Navigating down around the upper basin towards the base of Cloud Peak
Faint path on the way out the basin
Camp 2 sunrise at the start of the Cloud Peak hike
Cloud Peak Summit!
]]>
As outdoor spaces get a usage boost, they become a casualty of toilet paper. These man-made flowers crop up more and more in high-use areas and it’s not ok.
]]>
As outdoor spaces get a usage boost, they become a casualty of toilet paper. These man-made flowers crop up more and more in high-use areas and it’s not ok.
Don’t believe me? Read on for 6 reasons why you should pack out your dirty toilet paper.
The toilet paper problem affects all of us. Day hikers, weekend warriors, section hikers, and thru-hikers have all seen areas trashed with excess dirty toilet paper. It’s often around trailheads, popular viewpoints, or common campsites where there should be a privy and there isn’t.
There is no reality where someone likes this. You can only turn a blind eye for so long.
However, how can we all complain if we don’t all pack out our toilet paper? If you bury toilet paper, you are part of the problem. It’s important to recognize this and be a part of the solution instead of perpetuating what we all dislike.
Therefore, we should all band together and pack out our dirty TP.
If you are hiking in the overall wet Appalachian Mountains, you could reasonably assume your toilet paper would decompose in 1-3 years, according to this article by Backpacker Magazine.
HOWEVER, that is assuming no animals dig it up in the meantime. It’s possible that one will in 1-3 years, especially if it’s not buried deep enough.
That’s also not including the increased number of poos happening from the increased number of hikers.
If you’re hiking in areas without ideal decomposition rates, that toilet paper will live in the ground for several more years. Alpine environments above treeline will decompose very slowly. The same goes for desert environments.
It’s a common misconception that if you bury your toilet paper along with your poos 6”-8” deep that it will stay buried.
Sometimes it might, but more often it won’t.
This especially affects popular areas like trailheads and viewpoints. Everyone starts at a trailhead and hikes to a viewpoint. Thus, people spend more time in those two locations than in the space in between them.
While people get situated in the trailhead parking lot, they eat snacks, drop crumbs, and go to behind the nearby bush. The same thing happens at viewpoints: hikers sit down, eat, and go behind the bush.
That’s why those areas in particular have BOTH the most toilet paper and the most critters. I’m looking at all of you who feed the cute chipmunk (which you shouldn’t).
Even if your bury that toilet paper 6”-8” deep, that chipmunk or another motivated critter can and will easily dig that up. Not only chipmunks will unbury your TP for an extra snack. Marmots, badgers, bears, shrews, mice, and many others can smell your poo and its food smells. If you’ve ever seen a bear flip a boulder or dead log to find a grub, you’ll know that 6” of dirt won’t stop it.
Protect wildlife by packing out your TP... they don’t need to eat it buried or on the surface.
Think back to the last very hot day where you went on a hike. You probably had some type of electrolytes: Gatorade, propel, liquid IV, etc.
Those things don’t happen naturally often. Mountain goats and bighorn sheep climb to great heights for salt deposits on cliffsides. Ranchers use salt licks to get their cows to inhabit certain areas more frequently. Less skilled hunters use salt licks to habituate deer to an area near a blind they’ve set up to shoot them easily.
But, you pee out salt every pee and animals will seek that out. It’s like when critters eat your cork hiking pole handles when you leave them out at night. They are actually trying to eat the salt from your sweat that has soaked into the cork.
Point being: the salt in your pee attracts animals. That is part of why some poos get unburied AND why ladies who pee and leave surface toilet paper are part of the problem. Unburied toilet paper with urine attracts animals for the salt and they don’t need to eat our toilet paper.
So, you want to be part of the solution? Why use disposable when you can go reusable?
Let’s talk about reusable options to decrease the toilet paper use before it even gets outside. Just like most of us have reusable water bottle bottles, there are reusable bathroom cleaning options.
First, a kula cloth or a wander wipe offer fantastic alternatives to hikers with vaginas. They’re both anti-microbial and washable! In my experience, they do need to be rinsed at least every 3 days. I use filtered water to rinse mine away from a stream in between towns.
This will drastically reduce the bulk surface toilet paper. I get it, ladies…it’s important to wipe after you pee. Just make it reusable and washable. And before you ask, no it doesn’t smell.
Second, try a bidet if you’re so inclined and are hiking in areas with lots of water. This option, when done correctly, can drastically reduce or eliminate toilet paper and wet wipes from your system. Depending on how much your TP kit usually weighs, it can also decrease weight!
Lastly, if you still like your Charmin and wet wipes, simply pack it out. I’ve been packing out toilet paper for a long time and it hardly adds any extra weight. And no, it doesn’t smell.
I like to make a “poo kit” up in advance. I start by rolling my toilet paper into rolls where I divide a normal roll of TP into 4 smaller rolls. I bring 2 smaller rolls per section in a sandwich ziplock. This provides extra in case of emergencies. Next, I bring about 15-20 wet wipes in a second sandwich ziplock. I add a small hand sanitizer bottle. For the dirty toilet paper, I put one sandwich ziplock inside a second one to double bag it. When we get to town, we can throw out the inner bag and the outer bag become the next section’s inner bag. Finally, all that goes into a USPS Tyvek mailing envelope so you can’t see what’s in it.
We all get outside to enjoy nature, see wildlife, peep at the wildflowers, and to feel good exercising our bodies. It’s time to protect those spaces for others coming after us and for ourselves.
If you’re annoyed at the amount of toilet paper flowers you see, start by looking at your own habits. See what you can change yourself. Then, once you adjust your own habits, help your friends do better for our outdoor spaces and the wildlife that lives there. If you have a trash bag and protective gloves, you can clean up after others if you want to go to the next level.
It all starts with a few people saying no, this toilet paper trash is not ok.
There is no reason to leave or bury TP outside any longer. Let’s all do ourselves a favor, opt into reusable options, pack out TP and wipes, and teach others to do the same.
]]>Some years, I find myself in the mood for a steady dose of hiker community. My partner Karma and I had that last year on round two of the CDT.
In other years, I want to get as remote as possible with as few people as possible. A route with many in-route options is a great way to do that.
Grand Enchantment Trail: The Basics
Created by Brett Tucker, the Grand Enchantment Trail moves in an indirect way between Phoenix and Albuquerque.
It is a unique southwestern route that:
- is roughly 770 miles (depending on the route choices you make).
- has one terminus in the Superstition Mountains east of Phoenix.
- has another terminus in the Sandia Mountains east of Albuquerque.
- is best hiked as a thru-hike in the spring going eastbound and, in the fall, going westbound.
- is part trail, part cross country, and part dirt/paved road.
- is a connector between the Arizona Trail (AZT) and the Continental Divide Trail (CDT) and then some extra.
Trail Direction & Timing
Since we wanted to start in the spring, we knew we needed to hike eastbound from Phoenix to Albuquerque. However, from having hiked the Arizona Trail, we knew that the first 125 miles or so would reach very hot temperatures.
So, for the first time, we decided to do a little section hiking! My hat now goes off to section hikers as I learned a whole new level of logistics.
We decided to do the GET in 4 sections: the Superstitions, the AZT overlap, Aravaipa Canyon to Klondyke, and Klondyke to Albuquerque. However, we loved Aravaipa Canyon so much, we hiked it twice, adding an extra 25 miles to our whole trip.
The Superstitions
Karma and I wintered down on southern Arizona public lands in our van and we got the trail itch a little sooner than we should have. When our buddy, Mavrik, called us and asked if we wanted to skip Christmas and hike the first 50 miles through the Superstitions, we jumped onboard.
Our first 50 miles of trail, Karma and I enjoyed laughing with our buddy and making a new friend in Shadow.
Nothing says bonding like finding nondescript, unmaintained trails full of catclaw instead of getting piles of unwanted things for Christmas.
What is catclaw you might ask? Catclaw, or Senegalia greggii, or “wait-a-minute bush” is native to the southwestern US and has thorns in the shape of a cat’s claw. Yes, I am utterly serious. It often grows into open space (i.e. unmaintained trail), and digs into your skin just like a cat. To get out of it, you must either back up and find another route or plow forward and bleed.
I elaborate so much because cat claw continues through most of the Arizona portion of the GET.
Arizona Trail Overlap
After that trip, Karma and I knocked out the lowest elevation portion that doubles as the AZT to AZ highway 77 which runs about 75 miles. Other than the lack of daylight, I loved hiking this section in January! It still became hot enough that we hiked in the mid-afternoon sun with our Silver Shadow umbrellas.
The GET diverged from the AZT twice here: once for Walnut Canyon and second to leave the AZT for good at Beehive Well. Both diversions proved excellent.
Aravaipa Canyon to Klondyke
Aravaipa Canyon is an amazing canyon nestled between Phoenix and Tucson and you need a permit. Yes, EVEN for a day hike. The BLM only allows 30 people per day via the west entrance and 20 per day via the east entrance.
Mavrik asked us if we wanted in on a late January permit. When we saw that all the permits were already gone for March and April, we agreed.
Armed with some seal skinz socks, the three of us set off into the freezing water. Twice its normal CFS due to a winter of heavy water, we had so much fun.
Klondyke to Albuquerque
As we tried to figure out how to get back to Klondyke, we dreamed of a cancellation permit for Aravaipa.
After refreshing the permit page about 50,000 times, on the way to Winco in Sacramento, boom. A total of 7 permits for April 12th appeared. It was April 5th. Karma and I snagged two and that became our plan.
We messaged Shiny and Half Double to see if they wanted to go and if they could give us a ride from Tucson. They happened to have plans already, but their friend Crush immediately got on and snagged the last permit, agreed to drive us, and then called us after buying the permit for details.
With Crush’s enthusiasm, we road-tripped out and began an adventure. Crush joined us not only for the first 8 miles of Aravaipa Canyon but also joined us in nerding out on all the wildlife we saw.
After he turned around, we hiked through Aravaipa Canyon into Turkey Creek Canyon and onto the rest of the GET.
The rest of the hike flowed like a normal thru-hike. We went through amazing areas that I had no idea existed, saw more wildlife than the whole CDT last year, and thoroughly got our egos checked in a few areas.
Some days we faced heat so strong we took our packs off and submerged ourselves completely in water. On other days, the mornings had such a bitter cold, we wore our Melanzanas and our puffy jackets.
We learned Brett Tucker’s cross-country style and got accustomed to steep, trailless sections.
The further we got into New Mexico, we learned a new level of what we called “rancher avoidance.” Our heads spun around the checkerboard of public and private land, all dutifully marked on the mapset.
Sometimes, while mountain ranges of “trail” had such extensive fire and flood damage, “trail” became cross-country.
And, it was all an adventure!
Water on the Grand Enchantment Trail
A misconception I often hear about this route is that you’re only in wide open desert. However, the Grand Enchantment Trail follows many canyons, often for miles and miles.
The southwest had a very wet winter over 2022-23. At the high elevations, snow piled up higher and higher. At the low elevations, torrential downpours filled valleys and flooded parking lots.
This boded well for water on the GET *IF* you left at the right window for the spring 2023 season. I believe we threaded that needle well. Those before us reported such high water that they took high water bypasses. Some water report notes spoke of waste-deep crossings.
Our deepest crossings were in the West Fork of the Gila and only 3 made it to my mid-thigh. At 5’2”, that means knee-deep for most people.
This wet winter also meant that water sources marked as “some potholes here” often had flowing water. Karma and I counted ourselves lucky to have such good water for so long on the trail.
Our timing also boded well for that wide open desert of New Mexico where you depend on cattle tire and trough sources. We walked through as many of those ranches were calving along the trail. Calves need a steady water source nearby, so these sources were turned on most of the time.
Trail vs Cross-Country vs Road Walks
Because of the name “Grand Enchantment Trail,” there is a common misconception that it is a trail in the sense of other long-distance trails. It is a route that uses trails, but also uses two-tracks, dirt roads, and paved roads, and often connects them with cross-country travel.
Personally, I love a good challenge. However, it is not for everyone. I think it’s important to build up thru-hiking skills on other trails first, then move into routes afterward.
“Trail” on the GET also means something different. Yes, there is legit trail where it overlaps with the AZT and the CDT. However, just because the GET map set says “trail” does not mean it’s been maintained in the last 10, 20, or even 30 years. With the increase in western wildfires, many lightly used trail systems have burned and subsequently flooded. You can often still find bits of trail, but often it becomes more of a guideline than an actual trail. I often found myself cross-country hiking roughly along the GPS track, then suddenly finding remnants of trail work a long time ago.
Country-country travel on the GET often consists of finding your own way along ranching fence lines. It could also have you following a ridgeline up or down to a specific point. Or, it can have you going up and down ridges sideways trying to avoid those ambiguous squares of private property that don’t actually make sense in the landscape. Here, it’s important to check and recheck the maps and get a good bearing.
Everyone rails on road walks. But, sometimes, you need them to get you to another area of awesomeness. The GET hardly uses paved roads, with the large exception of Section 36 through the Chilili Land Grant. There’s really no legal way through other than the paved road walk there.
Conclusion
Karma and I LOVED the GET overall. It gave us a good challenge. It took us to places we never knew existed in places we’d hiked and van camped nearby.
Who do I recommend it for? Anyone looking to get into routes who already knows how to thru-hike. With hardly any gear stores, it’s helpful to already have your gear situated. While it could be a first thru-hike, I think it would be better enjoyed after one has completed the CDT or another difficult western trail with a lot of extra navigation.
]]>What is this post about:
This post is to showcase our SMD packing pods, what they are designed to be used for, and how I have used them over the last few years.
Designed to help organize your backpack, SMD packing pods have a large zippered entry to keep your clothing, food, or gear laid out nicely where you can see everything inside. No need to pull everything out to get something or dig around to the bottom of the bag. Fully taped seams add water resistance to keep your things dry.’ - SixMoonDesigns website
In any one week I can switch items of gear from one pack to another depending upon what kind of riding I am doing, eg. local trail riding for an hour or so on my mountain bike, longer rides away from Grantown on Spey on my adventure bike or a multi-day bikepacking trip. This winter I also used my packing pods when ski touring or mountaineering in the mountains.
As everyone knows, switching gear from one location to another is often a recipe for forgetting, or even worse, losing an important piece such as a multitool or spare food. So I started to use my Ambassador pack of SMD packing pods to organize items for storage in a tray in our utility room before transferring to whatever pack or piece of bike luggage I was using next. I use one set of green multi-sized SMD packing pods and three or four Backpacking SMD packing pods.
I have chosen to let my photographs of these amazing packing pods do the talking with hopefully the captions filling in the gaps for folks.
I color code...blue jacket in a blue packing pod for example.
Keep zips near the top to give quick access without removing the packing pod from the main pack.
My smallest pod works brilliantly in a bikepacking cockpit bag.
The packing pods are great for storing and swapping ingredients around when cooking.
The pods are great to organize in a bikepacking frame bag as they squish up nicely.
Quickly accessing packing pod contents as temperatures cool.
SMD packing pods on the mountain bike trails.
Using packing pods to make a compartmentalized arrangement.
]]>