Lessons learned the easy way:
-Afternoon snow is softer, even though it sucks when you posthole. Your ice axe actually goes in and you can self arrest with a butt cheek and an elbow. You don't slide far, just make an indent.
- When in danger of post-holing, judiciously and vigorously applied poling can help. Won't necessarily, but it can.
-Keep wet clothes on until a) hypothermic or b) wet activities cease. Keep dry clothes dry.
Lessons learned the hard way:
-Just because it's June and your maps show lakes and streams does not mean that you can get water from them. They may still be frozen.
-When choosing which set of footprints to follow, ALWAYS CONSULT YOUR MAP!!!
-You will never regret getting an early start.
-Just because you apply sunscreen every hour does not mean that you won't get sunburnt lips in snowy, 12,000 foot mountains
Forester was fun. There were miles of relatively flat snowfields before the great big wall of rock, I wish I had led the group in getting an earlier start so that we wouldn't have postholed there. The bottom half of the switchbacks were covered in snow, so we went straight up the snow. Carmen said, "It's just like the bootpack up to The Ridge at Bridger," which helped until I remembered that I've only done that hike once and the results were fairly disastrous. The chute below the pass looked super scary, but it turned out just fine. The steps and self-belays were super solid.
On the backside, we slid down on our butts, which was super fun, wedgierific, and quite painful. Unfortunately, we ran out of daylight, which I had been freaking out about all day, but we followed the footsteps of Liz and Jack who followed wrong footsteps as well, and now we're all lost together, and enjoying a fire. The trail has got to be under a lot of snow since this north face is so much snowier, so I think tomorrow we'll continue to follow the valley that the trail follows until we hit dry ground and then find the exact trail then. (Next morning note: crossed trail in morning to get water. Yay! Unfortunately the dry patch of trail was only about 20' long... Back to snow.)
We're going to try to get to Onion Valley Road and Independence to resupply tomorrow, which is 1-2 days ahead of schedule. I'm going to feel stupid hiking into town with food after going hungry, but I rationed my food responsibly according to plan, and now we're trying to bust our balls to make the miles between us and food because others didn't. Grrrr.
Oh, and by the way, every single thing I saw today was absolutely beautiful.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Mile 7??: Forester Pass, and lessons learned
Lessons learned the easy way:
-Afternoon snow is softer, even though it sucks when you posthole, your ice axe actually goes in and you can self arrest with a butt cheek and an elbow. You don't slide far, just make an indent.
- When in danger of post-holing, judiciously and vigorously applied poling can help. Won't necessarily, but it can.
-Keep wet clothes on until a) hypothermic or b) wet activities cease. Keep dry clothes dry.
Lessons learned the hard way:
-Just because it's June and your maps show lakes and streams does not mean that you can get water from them. They may still be frozen.
-When choosing which set of footprints to follow, ALWAYS CONSULT YOUR MAP!!!
-You will never regret getting an early start.
-Just because you apply sunscreen every hour does not mean that you won't get sunburnt lips in snowy, 12,000 foot mountains
Forester was fun. There were miles of relatively flat snowfields before the great big wall of rock, I wish I had led the group in getting an earlier start so that we wouldn't have postholed there. The bottom half of the switchbacks were covered in snow, so we went straight up the snow. Carmen said, "It's just like the bootpack up to The Ridge at Bridger," which helped until I remembered that I've only done that hike once and the results were fairly disastrous. The chute below the pass looked super scary, but it turned out just fine. The steps and self-belays were super solid.
On the backside, we slid down on our butts, which was super fun, wedgierific, and quite painful. Unfortunately, we ran out of daylight, which I had been freaking out about all day, but we followed the footsteps of Liz and Jack who followed wrong footsteps as well, and now we're all lost together, but the trail has got to be under a lot of snow since this north face is so much snowier, so I think tomorrow we'll continue to follow the valley that the trail follows until we hit dry ground and then find the exact trail then.
We're going to try to get to Onion Valley Road and Independence to resupply tomorrow, which is 1-2 days ahead of schedule. I'm going to feel stupid hiking into town with food after going hungry, but I rationed my food responsibly according to plan, and now we're trying to bust our balls to make the miles between us and food because others didn't. Grrrr.
Oh, and by the way, every single thing I saw today was absolutely beautiful.
- Typoed on my iPhone
-Afternoon snow is softer, even though it sucks when you posthole, your ice axe actually goes in and you can self arrest with a butt cheek and an elbow. You don't slide far, just make an indent.
- When in danger of post-holing, judiciously and vigorously applied poling can help. Won't necessarily, but it can.
-Keep wet clothes on until a) hypothermic or b) wet activities cease. Keep dry clothes dry.
Lessons learned the hard way:
-Just because it's June and your maps show lakes and streams does not mean that you can get water from them. They may still be frozen.
-When choosing which set of footprints to follow, ALWAYS CONSULT YOUR MAP!!!
-You will never regret getting an early start.
-Just because you apply sunscreen every hour does not mean that you won't get sunburnt lips in snowy, 12,000 foot mountains
Forester was fun. There were miles of relatively flat snowfields before the great big wall of rock, I wish I had led the group in getting an earlier start so that we wouldn't have postholed there. The bottom half of the switchbacks were covered in snow, so we went straight up the snow. Carmen said, "It's just like the bootpack up to The Ridge at Bridger," which helped until I remembered that I've only done that hike once and the results were fairly disastrous. The chute below the pass looked super scary, but it turned out just fine. The steps and self-belays were super solid.
On the backside, we slid down on our butts, which was super fun, wedgierific, and quite painful. Unfortunately, we ran out of daylight, which I had been freaking out about all day, but we followed the footsteps of Liz and Jack who followed wrong footsteps as well, and now we're all lost together, but the trail has got to be under a lot of snow since this north face is so much snowier, so I think tomorrow we'll continue to follow the valley that the trail follows until we hit dry ground and then find the exact trail then.
We're going to try to get to Onion Valley Road and Independence to resupply tomorrow, which is 1-2 days ahead of schedule. I'm going to feel stupid hiking into town with food after going hungry, but I rationed my food responsibly according to plan, and now we're trying to bust our balls to make the miles between us and food because others didn't. Grrrr.
Oh, and by the way, every single thing I saw today was absolutely beautiful.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 766.3: Crabtree Meadows 1
Beautiful and easy day today. So nice to take it slow and enjoy the scenery! Some more snow today, it was more a pain in the ass to contend with than any real impediment or danger.
We caught up to the U.P.ers today, and Jack Straw, Abby Normal, and Norway caught up to us. It was like a party at Whitney base camp! (10329 ft)
I can't decide if I'm more excited for climbing Whitney tomorrow, or celebrating Naked Hiker Day. Sounds like Microburst is only good for one mooning photo, but Sweet 16 and I have been talking about it for days! And we've gotten all of the boys excited/nervous about it too.
Sweet Jesus: "But what you don't understand is that snow, and balls, and penises do not make good friends. They don't get along well at all!... No judging." Boys, I have lost a lot of weight on this trip. It's all been from my humps, my lovely lady lumps (in the back and in the front). Not from thighs or stomach. No judging me either.
Tao of the Day:
"The heart of Tao is immortal,
the mysterious fertile mother if us all"
Groovy, I like woman-centric spirituality. It makes far more sense to me.
(paraphrased):
'Those that
do not live for themselves endure forever
put themselves last find themselves first
hold themselves outside remain at the center
abandon themselves are truly fulfilled'
I think of a very vain person, spending all his time primping and boasting. He has admirers, but no friends. I think of a woman, who throws herself into the relationships she has with her friends and family. She is surrounded by love and happiness, and she too is very happy. Lao Tzu, I'm picking up what you're laying down, and I like it. Implementing it is a whole 'nother question though.
- Typoed on my iPhone
We caught up to the U.P.ers today, and Jack Straw, Abby Normal, and Norway caught up to us. It was like a party at Whitney base camp! (10329 ft)
I can't decide if I'm more excited for climbing Whitney tomorrow, or celebrating Naked Hiker Day. Sounds like Microburst is only good for one mooning photo, but Sweet 16 and I have been talking about it for days! And we've gotten all of the boys excited/nervous about it too.
Sweet Jesus: "But what you don't understand is that snow, and balls, and penises do not make good friends. They don't get along well at all!... No judging." Boys, I have lost a lot of weight on this trip. It's all been from my humps, my lovely lady lumps (in the back and in the front). Not from thighs or stomach. No judging me either.
Tao of the Day:
"The heart of Tao is immortal,
the mysterious fertile mother if us all"
Groovy, I like woman-centric spirituality. It makes far more sense to me.
(paraphrased):
'Those that
do not live for themselves endure forever
put themselves last find themselves first
hold themselves outside remain at the center
abandon themselves are truly fulfilled'
I think of a very vain person, spending all his time primping and boasting. He has admirers, but no friends. I think of a woman, who throws herself into the relationships she has with her friends and family. She is surrounded by love and happiness, and she too is very happy. Lao Tzu, I'm picking up what you're laying down, and I like it. Implementing it is a whole 'nother question though.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 745: Cottonwood Pass
We hit Cottonwood Pass yesterday (I'm writing this morning after). It is the lowest and easiest of the passes, and we got it no problem. The snow fields weren't even big enough to lose the trail. We didn't actually go OVER the pass, we went up to it, met up with a trail that went over it, and continued to climb up on the same side of the mountains as we were earlier.
We hit it in the afternoon, too, so the snow should have been at it's wettest and softest, but there was only one posthole made between the three of us (and it was by me). I'm starting to chill out, the snow and the Sierra need our respect for sure, but maybe they don't need my obsessing and nightmares too.
I definitely have not packed enough food. I felt faint and slow all morning long, even though I was eating something every hour. I spent all day fantasizing about the food I want to pack for the next section. To keep things simple and compact, I think I'll try to eat soaked quinoa, dry milk, nuts, dried fruit, and brown sugar in the morning, tabbouleh, walnuts, and olive oil for lunch, couscous, spices and butter for dinner, hot cocoa and butter as a pick-me-up, and figure out snacks depending on how much room and money I have left over.
I also fantasized about the food I want to make when I get back: my body is defintely craving wholesome along with rich, so I was imagining sprouts, hummus, yogurt, kombucha, almond milk, and kefir along with beef stew, muffins, French toast, salmon, salads, and soup.
Anicca caught back up with us today, he had taken Trail Pass down to Lone Pine to resupply, so we had passed him. He still plans on sleeping at the top of Mount Whitney, which I personally think is dumb because of weather and altitude (why not summit and then NOT put yourself at risk of altitude sickness by coming back down, climb high, sleep low? Mount Whitney is about 9,000 feet higher than what we're acclimated to, and 4-5,000 higher than where we've been huffing and puffing the last few days). But I hope it all works out for him.
We've adjusted to hiking without boys: no topic is taboo, and it's great! I thought we'd miss them, but it seems like we've hit our stride - and are havin a blast - without them. That doesn't mean I didn't really enjoy laughing until it hurt from Shanghai and talking science with Hasty, but apparently we do just fine on our own too. Yippee!
Tao of the Day: 4-5, paraphrased.
"The Tao is still really big, and still really cool, and still really hard to understand"
Okay, I get it. I thought self promotion wasn't an admirable trait to the Taoists? This book seems like it has a lot of ancient wisdom, good life advice, and maybe some spirituality, but that doesn't mean it isn't immune to the bullshit-meter. Is the spirituality part all the stuff that talks about how the Tao is really really big, really cool, and ununderstandable?
I did like this part though:
"Simply stay at the center of the circle" (verbatim)
I don't know exactly what it means, but to me it speaks of staying centered, balanced, aware of what's outside of you, and at peace with it.
- Typoed on my iPhone
We hit it in the afternoon, too, so the snow should have been at it's wettest and softest, but there was only one posthole made between the three of us (and it was by me). I'm starting to chill out, the snow and the Sierra need our respect for sure, but maybe they don't need my obsessing and nightmares too.
I definitely have not packed enough food. I felt faint and slow all morning long, even though I was eating something every hour. I spent all day fantasizing about the food I want to pack for the next section. To keep things simple and compact, I think I'll try to eat soaked quinoa, dry milk, nuts, dried fruit, and brown sugar in the morning, tabbouleh, walnuts, and olive oil for lunch, couscous, spices and butter for dinner, hot cocoa and butter as a pick-me-up, and figure out snacks depending on how much room and money I have left over.
I also fantasized about the food I want to make when I get back: my body is defintely craving wholesome along with rich, so I was imagining sprouts, hummus, yogurt, kombucha, almond milk, and kefir along with beef stew, muffins, French toast, salmon, salads, and soup.
Anicca caught back up with us today, he had taken Trail Pass down to Lone Pine to resupply, so we had passed him. He still plans on sleeping at the top of Mount Whitney, which I personally think is dumb because of weather and altitude (why not summit and then NOT put yourself at risk of altitude sickness by coming back down, climb high, sleep low? Mount Whitney is about 9,000 feet higher than what we're acclimated to, and 4-5,000 higher than where we've been huffing and puffing the last few days). But I hope it all works out for him.
We've adjusted to hiking without boys: no topic is taboo, and it's great! I thought we'd miss them, but it seems like we've hit our stride - and are havin a blast - without them. That doesn't mean I didn't really enjoy laughing until it hurt from Shanghai and talking science with Hasty, but apparently we do just fine on our own too. Yippee!
Tao of the Day: 4-5, paraphrased.
"The Tao is still really big, and still really cool, and still really hard to understand"
Okay, I get it. I thought self promotion wasn't an admirable trait to the Taoists? This book seems like it has a lot of ancient wisdom, good life advice, and maybe some spirituality, but that doesn't mean it isn't immune to the bullshit-meter. Is the spirituality part all the stuff that talks about how the Tao is really really big, really cool, and ununderstandable?
I did like this part though:
"Simply stay at the center of the circle" (verbatim)
I don't know exactly what it means, but to me it speaks of staying centered, balanced, aware of what's outside of you, and at peace with it.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 716: Monache Meadows, mountains at last!
Glad to leave Kennedy Meadows at last. My package never did arrive, and when I was readyto go, one pole was gone. I searched all over, knowing how much I hate hiking asymmetrically, and finally bought Fester's ski poles off of him. Strange how much stuff went missing in Kennedy Meadows: Hasty's $50 guidebook, my pole, Fester's prescription pain meds, and a number of people's packages.
Even though I was way behind Sarah/DayGlo/Sweet16, I stopped at the Kennedy Meadows campground to write my own contribution to Crest of Desire: Space Pants goes skinny dipping, is getting really sensual by herself, and Big Spoon joins her. It was fun to write. I felt dirty, but I laughed and had a good time with it anyways (just as Space Pants did).
After a long climb, we crested a gentle friendly saddle and LO AND BEHOLD, mountains! Snow capped Sierras, to be specific, close enough to hut in the next few days, framed by real trees and a lush alpine meadow. Wow! What wonders worked on the morale. As the sun set, the Kern River looked like molten gold, it was so pretty. Too bad my camera has decided the Sierra is the best place to stop working.
Now we're camped with the U.P.ers ("yoopers" previously the Michigan Boys.) And now's a great chance to explain Sarah's trail name change. When we partied at the Andersons, Sarah partied hardest: she was the one teaching the Michigan Boys drinking games and all. Well, she didn't sleep with us that night, she and one of the boys shared a futon and some body heat (how efficient!) Apparently her dad had told Sneezes that Sarah was only 16 when her parents came to visit her. Sneezes told the Michigan Boys, and the one in particular has been utterly freaked out that he committed some crimes that night. Of course she's 22 and fine and capable of giving her own consent and all, but the Michigan boys didn't know this from mile 475 to 700. So now her name, most fittingly, is Sweet 16.
Tao of the day:
(2) paraphrased
"When value is placed on something or someone, other things are consequently devalued. Opposites define one another."
You can't feel joy without also feeling pain. Accept things as they are and be at peace.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Even though I was way behind Sarah/DayGlo/Sweet16, I stopped at the Kennedy Meadows campground to write my own contribution to Crest of Desire: Space Pants goes skinny dipping, is getting really sensual by herself, and Big Spoon joins her. It was fun to write. I felt dirty, but I laughed and had a good time with it anyways (just as Space Pants did).
After a long climb, we crested a gentle friendly saddle and LO AND BEHOLD, mountains! Snow capped Sierras, to be specific, close enough to hut in the next few days, framed by real trees and a lush alpine meadow. Wow! What wonders worked on the morale. As the sun set, the Kern River looked like molten gold, it was so pretty. Too bad my camera has decided the Sierra is the best place to stop working.
Now we're camped with the U.P.ers ("yoopers" previously the Michigan Boys.) And now's a great chance to explain Sarah's trail name change. When we partied at the Andersons, Sarah partied hardest: she was the one teaching the Michigan Boys drinking games and all. Well, she didn't sleep with us that night, she and one of the boys shared a futon and some body heat (how efficient!) Apparently her dad had told Sneezes that Sarah was only 16 when her parents came to visit her. Sneezes told the Michigan Boys, and the one in particular has been utterly freaked out that he committed some crimes that night. Of course she's 22 and fine and capable of giving her own consent and all, but the Michigan boys didn't know this from mile 475 to 700. So now her name, most fittingly, is Sweet 16.
Tao of the day:
(2) paraphrased
"When value is placed on something or someone, other things are consequently devalued. Opposites define one another."
You can't feel joy without also feeling pain. Accept things as they are and be at peace.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 700: Kennedy Meadows, end of desert, beginning if the Sierra Nevada
We've been holed up in Kennedy Meadows for 5 days now, while Carmen/Microburst has been chilling with her visiting boyfriend and the rest of us have been waiting for packages or her. It's been very nice to relax, let my blisters heal, and drink beer.
Brian/Shanghai McWillickers escaped first, with Hurricane, though he said he might try to meet up with us later on down the line, and he will be working on our dirty hiker romance novel, Crest of Desire. Hasty escaped next, feeling antsy and wanting to catch up with Anicca (or Charmin, as we suspect). Sarah/DayGlo/Sweet16 and I will leave tomorrow morning, and Microburst will leave with Abby Normal in tow once she hears from family and the general store opens up (she'll catch up quite quickly).
Tom has an awesome hiker hangout here in Kennedy Meadows, he's got tons of trailers and RVs strewn about his 4.5 acres, it's completely off the grid, and it's a super relaxed community environment to rest up, heal up, gear up, hang out, and wait for packages that never arrive before hitting the high Sierra.
And now for the Tao of the Day:
(1) (paraphrased)
THE TAO IS VERY COMPLICATED, VERY OLD, AND VERY, VERY BIG. IT IS UNUNDERSTANDABLE, IF YOU TRY TO UNDERSTAND IT. JUST KNOW THAT IT IS VERY COOL, WHATEVER IT IS.
Yep, I have always thought that human brains are far too puny and limited to to really get what's going on. Seeking or spouting the answer to life, the universe, and everything is really quite silly. Spirituality is as much a gut feeling and a tingling of the bones as it is words or a book. Assuming all the world's a stage, that leaves me free to play my part by heart, not by script.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Brian/Shanghai McWillickers escaped first, with Hurricane, though he said he might try to meet up with us later on down the line, and he will be working on our dirty hiker romance novel, Crest of Desire. Hasty escaped next, feeling antsy and wanting to catch up with Anicca (or Charmin, as we suspect). Sarah/DayGlo/Sweet16 and I will leave tomorrow morning, and Microburst will leave with Abby Normal in tow once she hears from family and the general store opens up (she'll catch up quite quickly).
Tom has an awesome hiker hangout here in Kennedy Meadows, he's got tons of trailers and RVs strewn about his 4.5 acres, it's completely off the grid, and it's a super relaxed community environment to rest up, heal up, gear up, hang out, and wait for packages that never arrive before hitting the high Sierra.
And now for the Tao of the Day:
(1) (paraphrased)
THE TAO IS VERY COMPLICATED, VERY OLD, AND VERY, VERY BIG. IT IS UNUNDERSTANDABLE, IF YOU TRY TO UNDERSTAND IT. JUST KNOW THAT IT IS VERY COOL, WHATEVER IT IS.
Yep, I have always thought that human brains are far too puny and limited to to really get what's going on. Seeking or spouting the answer to life, the universe, and everything is really quite silly. Spirituality is as much a gut feeling and a tingling of the bones as it is words or a book. Assuming all the world's a stage, that leaves me free to play my part by heart, not by script.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Mile 766.3+16: Crabtree Meadows 2- Naked Hiker Day/Mt. Whitney
This morning, I knew I'd climb to the 2nd highest peak in the U.S., Mount Whitney at 14,500 feet. I couldn't just eat my normal breakfast of two bars and remain hungry til lunch as is usual: I had to eat something good, something more on such a momentous day. So I ate butter on my bars, and had a tortilla-butter wrap with some garlic salt, pepper, and Italian seasoning. It sounds gross, and it kinda was, but it was also oh-so-good.
Once we hit snow and the sun hit us, we were warm enough to shed our layers, all our layers. We've been talking up Naked Hiker Day since before we ever got on the trail, and it had to happen today in perfect PCT tradition: climbing Mount Whitney, and on the solstice. We weren't exactly super relaxed about it, we were checking over our shoulders every 30 seconds to see if Jack Straw, Abby Normal, and Norway were hiking behind us, it took about half a mile of Sweet 16 and I nekkid before Microburst succumbed to the peer pressure, and we kept saying things like "Don't look at my butt while I step up!"
But it felt so nice! Our packs were light since we left all but the day's gear in Crabtree Meadows, the sun was warm (and we had put sunscreen EVERYWHERE), there was a tiny light breeze and we were surrounded by breathtakingly beautiful cliffs and spires and awe-inspiring mountains. The only person we did see before the breeze picked up and we put our clothes back on was Anicca, way off in the distance. Later, at the top of Whitney, he said he could tell we were naked, but he couldn't tell if we were women or men, much less who we were. I was terribly and shrilly offended, though I suppose it just means he definitely did not see any personal and particular details.
The switchbacks that cover most of the elevation gain were covered by a couple chutes of snow: and true to form, I super psyched myself out on the steep ones. I went way slower than was probably necessary, but I took one step at a time carefully and methodically because that's how I have to get through stuff like that. It was obvious to me that my fear was tangible to everyone else, who were talking and encouraging me in that careful way you do to someone who might flip out at any moment. I wasn't about to flip out, I had myself under control, excrutingly slow step by excrutiatingly slow step. I started making faces and once sang "Summertime and the livin' is easy" to break the tension.
By the time we got to the junction with the trail that comes up on the east side of Whitney, it was later than we wanted, we were all tired, and I was sick of picking my way across snow. It made me start wondering: what is the difference between summiting and not? I mean, we had already gained most of the elevation at that point, we could see some spectacular views from the ridge we followed, and we were through the worst of the snow. So what if we didn't summit? The experience is almost the same, but we wouldn't have bragging rights. Is that our motivation then? What does that say about us and our values? Well, we wanted bragging rights and the 360 view, we summitted and turned around twenty minutes later since the friendly fluffy clouds were quickly turning into angry dark clouds.
On the way down, the snow was soft and slushy rather than hard and icy. I like slushy snow worse because it feels like I could have a chunk of wet snow slide out from under me, but it is possible to actually get the ice axe in up to the hilt, and I'm sure self-arresting would be a simple matter of making a butt-indent into the stuff or digging toes, knees, and elbows in. With the angry clouds though, and the groppel that started falling halfway down, risk management kicked in: I am more scared of being hit by lightning than walking across snow. I kicked my speed up a notch.
Finally, most of the way down the switchbacks, there was a nice wide semi-mellow chute that the switchbacks crossed a few more times below. Microburst and I took deep breaths, discussed the theory of butt-glissading, and I tucked my rain jacket into my rainpants, then we were off. It was so much fun! We went as far down as we could slide inthe mellow chute, then moved over to the steeper one. When that one leveled out, I attempted to row myself further with my ice axe. Having fun on the snow and realizing how bad one can and cannot fall and slide was a major boost. Yay!
Tao of the day (8.1):
"The highest good is like water
which benefits all things
and contends with none.
It flows in low places that others disdain
and thus is close to the Tao."
First I think of Ghandi, who was a truly good man in many ways, and how he stooped to do good in ways that others disdained. Then I think of volunteer opportunities: some just let people play while letting them feel good (Onion news article on rebuilding New Orleans after college students come destroy it in volunteer groups), others, usually much closer to home, are very helpful but unpleasant. Can a semi-high good be good too, even if it doesn't meet the standards of the highest good? What can I do as a volunteer to do the highest good? Probably something I don't want to do. How about finally helping out at a soup kitchen? Does donating blood count? A lot of people don't like it, but I'm good with needles and I really like it when they tell me I'm healthy as a horse every time they take my resting heart rate and blood pressure. If I enjoy it and get personal satisfaction out of it, am I being selfish, not selfless? What the hell am I doing hiking the PCT? This is the most ego-driven, self-centered thing I've done (and I'm having a blast).
- Typoed on my iPhone
Once we hit snow and the sun hit us, we were warm enough to shed our layers, all our layers. We've been talking up Naked Hiker Day since before we ever got on the trail, and it had to happen today in perfect PCT tradition: climbing Mount Whitney, and on the solstice. We weren't exactly super relaxed about it, we were checking over our shoulders every 30 seconds to see if Jack Straw, Abby Normal, and Norway were hiking behind us, it took about half a mile of Sweet 16 and I nekkid before Microburst succumbed to the peer pressure, and we kept saying things like "Don't look at my butt while I step up!"
But it felt so nice! Our packs were light since we left all but the day's gear in Crabtree Meadows, the sun was warm (and we had put sunscreen EVERYWHERE), there was a tiny light breeze and we were surrounded by breathtakingly beautiful cliffs and spires and awe-inspiring mountains. The only person we did see before the breeze picked up and we put our clothes back on was Anicca, way off in the distance. Later, at the top of Whitney, he said he could tell we were naked, but he couldn't tell if we were women or men, much less who we were. I was terribly and shrilly offended, though I suppose it just means he definitely did not see any personal and particular details.
The switchbacks that cover most of the elevation gain were covered by a couple chutes of snow: and true to form, I super psyched myself out on the steep ones. I went way slower than was probably necessary, but I took one step at a time carefully and methodically because that's how I have to get through stuff like that. It was obvious to me that my fear was tangible to everyone else, who were talking and encouraging me in that careful way you do to someone who might flip out at any moment. I wasn't about to flip out, I had myself under control, excrutingly slow step by excrutiatingly slow step. I started making faces and once sang "Summertime and the livin' is easy" to break the tension.
By the time we got to the junction with the trail that comes up on the east side of Whitney, it was later than we wanted, we were all tired, and I was sick of picking my way across snow. It made me start wondering: what is the difference between summiting and not? I mean, we had already gained most of the elevation at that point, we could see some spectacular views from the ridge we followed, and we were through the worst of the snow. So what if we didn't summit? The experience is almost the same, but we wouldn't have bragging rights. Is that our motivation then? What does that say about us and our values? Well, we wanted bragging rights and the 360 view, we summitted and turned around twenty minutes later since the friendly fluffy clouds were quickly turning into angry dark clouds.
On the way down, the snow was soft and slushy rather than hard and icy. I like slushy snow worse because it feels like I could have a chunk of wet snow slide out from under me, but it is possible to actually get the ice axe in up to the hilt, and I'm sure self-arresting would be a simple matter of making a butt-indent into the stuff or digging toes, knees, and elbows in. With the angry clouds though, and the groppel that started falling halfway down, risk management kicked in: I am more scared of being hit by lightning than walking across snow. I kicked my speed up a notch.
Finally, most of the way down the switchbacks, there was a nice wide semi-mellow chute that the switchbacks crossed a few more times below. Microburst and I took deep breaths, discussed the theory of butt-glissading, and I tucked my rain jacket into my rainpants, then we were off. It was so much fun! We went as far down as we could slide inthe mellow chute, then moved over to the steeper one. When that one leveled out, I attempted to row myself further with my ice axe. Having fun on the snow and realizing how bad one can and cannot fall and slide was a major boost. Yay!
Tao of the day (8.1):
"The highest good is like water
which benefits all things
and contends with none.
It flows in low places that others disdain
and thus is close to the Tao."
First I think of Ghandi, who was a truly good man in many ways, and how he stooped to do good in ways that others disdained. Then I think of volunteer opportunities: some just let people play while letting them feel good (Onion news article on rebuilding New Orleans after college students come destroy it in volunteer groups), others, usually much closer to home, are very helpful but unpleasant. Can a semi-high good be good too, even if it doesn't meet the standards of the highest good? What can I do as a volunteer to do the highest good? Probably something I don't want to do. How about finally helping out at a soup kitchen? Does donating blood count? A lot of people don't like it, but I'm good with needles and I really like it when they tell me I'm healthy as a horse every time they take my resting heart rate and blood pressure. If I enjoy it and get personal satisfaction out of it, am I being selfish, not selfless? What the hell am I doing hiking the PCT? This is the most ego-driven, self-centered thing I've done (and I'm having a blast).
- Typoed on my iPhone
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Mile 737.6: We're fucked! And other inappropriate language
No, we haven't hit any bad snow yet, just miniscule patches (and I made a miniscule snowman this morning). The reason I'm swearing is that we forgot bug dope. Yup, I forgot that one bonus to the desert is no skeeters. My only skeeter-proof clothing is my rain gear, everything else is fairly skin tight and thin. I think I got about eight bites on my butt today, which isn't bad by Alaskan standards, but they certainly aren't pleasant.
Speaking of pooping, I've known for a while now that wherever I have decided is a good direction to go 'mountaineering' (ice axe doubles as trowel), the trail also decides it wants to go there as well. I made use of this phenomenon today when I accidentally followed a creekside trail rather than the PCT. I dropped my pack, headed for the woods, and... oh, this was where I was supposed to be. Didn't even realize I was lost, but now I'm found!
Chacos v shoes feet, and very girly nails.
Captain Morgan taught us a toast that he used in the army with the mountain something division:
"We're mountaineers
with hairy ears
and we wear leather britches.
We bang our cocks
off stones and rocks
'cuz we're toughed up sons-of-bitches!"
Which we adapted to:
"We're mountaineers
with hairy ears
and we wear leather britches.
We bounce our twats
off snow and rocks
'cuz we're fuckin' bad-ass bitches!"
We began the day at 7820 feet, climbed to 10500 something, dropped back down to 9000, and we're back above 10000 again. I can feel the elevation, I'm running out of breath as I type inside my sleeping bag much faster than usual, of course I'm winded more easily on the climbs, and I get a headache instantly if I'm at all thirsty.
I think of food constantly, and stuffing enough for my ever-bugeoning appetite into a bear barrel is difficult. Two ideas:
Can quinoa with dry milk, nuts, brown sugar, spices, and dry fruit soak overnight into a good breakfast-like substance (in fridge)? Is it more or less calorically dense (both per weight and volume) than disgusting and expensive protein bars and Mom's amazing and missing home made bars?
I've also been trying to think of a lightweight multi-compartment sprouter so I can get something fresh out on the trail. I thought a plastic peanut butter jar, two pieces of rigid mosquito netting in the shape of the inside cross-section of the jar, another in the circular shape of the jar mouth, and a metal jar lid ring that miraculously fits the plastic jar. I'd be happy to do all the cutting, etc, but getting the materials together would be hard. So if anybody looks around and has those things laying around (and maybe some spare scissors too?) I'd love it if you sent them to me c/o General Delivery, South Lake Tahoe, California.
Tao of the day: mostly in my journal, but 3 talks about getting rid of desire and ambition. I feel like if I had no desire or ambition, I would have no motivation, and I would literally do nothing. Too much desire is a bad thing, certainly, but to get rid of all of it
- Typoed on my iPhone
Speaking of pooping, I've known for a while now that wherever I have decided is a good direction to go 'mountaineering' (ice axe doubles as trowel), the trail also decides it wants to go there as well. I made use of this phenomenon today when I accidentally followed a creekside trail rather than the PCT. I dropped my pack, headed for the woods, and... oh, this was where I was supposed to be. Didn't even realize I was lost, but now I'm found!
Chacos v shoes feet, and very girly nails.
Captain Morgan taught us a toast that he used in the army with the mountain something division:
"We're mountaineers
with hairy ears
and we wear leather britches.
We bang our cocks
off stones and rocks
'cuz we're toughed up sons-of-bitches!"
Which we adapted to:
"We're mountaineers
with hairy ears
and we wear leather britches.
We bounce our twats
off snow and rocks
'cuz we're fuckin' bad-ass bitches!"
We began the day at 7820 feet, climbed to 10500 something, dropped back down to 9000, and we're back above 10000 again. I can feel the elevation, I'm running out of breath as I type inside my sleeping bag much faster than usual, of course I'm winded more easily on the climbs, and I get a headache instantly if I'm at all thirsty.
I think of food constantly, and stuffing enough for my ever-bugeoning appetite into a bear barrel is difficult. Two ideas:
Can quinoa with dry milk, nuts, brown sugar, spices, and dry fruit soak overnight into a good breakfast-like substance (in fridge)? Is it more or less calorically dense (both per weight and volume) than disgusting and expensive protein bars and Mom's amazing and missing home made bars?
I've also been trying to think of a lightweight multi-compartment sprouter so I can get something fresh out on the trail. I thought a plastic peanut butter jar, two pieces of rigid mosquito netting in the shape of the inside cross-section of the jar, another in the circular shape of the jar mouth, and a metal jar lid ring that miraculously fits the plastic jar. I'd be happy to do all the cutting, etc, but getting the materials together would be hard. So if anybody looks around and has those things laying around (and maybe some spare scissors too?) I'd love it if you sent them to me c/o General Delivery, South Lake Tahoe, California.
Tao of the day: mostly in my journal, but 3 talks about getting rid of desire and ambition. I feel like if I had no desire or ambition, I would have no motivation, and I would literally do nothing. Too much desire is a bad thing, certainly, but to get rid of all of it
- Typoed on my iPhone
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Djibouti or Bust!
Getting happy as I get out of the desert...
Monday, June 7, 2010
Mile 598: sweaty and slow
Wow, this is a hot, dry section. We left Tehachapi carrying eight days of food an 25 miles of water. Ow my shoulders and hips! Pack weight definitely over fifty pounds.
It seems like everyone is speeding up except me. I am either staying the same or getting slower. I don't like it. I know that somebody is going to be the slowest, and it should be okay if it's me, but it's starting to bother me mentally. I think I'm going to try to start hiking super early tomorrow morning so I don't have to be the caboose for a while.
When I got into camp, my entire backside was soaked in sweat, from the top of my shoulders down to my butt. It was so gross. I'm also sticky from head to toe, and my hair is the greasiest it's been in my life.
Yup, I need an attitude adjustment. My mom is sending me the Tao te Jing by Lao Tzu to Kennedy Meadows, where I will sit on my clean butt for four or more days smelling relatively tolerably in clean clothes. I am looking forward to replacing my one pound brick book that is entertaining and interesting, but impossible to make any progress through with a thinner book that gives me bite sized spirituality/philosophy lessons to mull over as I hike.
- Typoed on my iPhone
It seems like everyone is speeding up except me. I am either staying the same or getting slower. I don't like it. I know that somebody is going to be the slowest, and it should be okay if it's me, but it's starting to bother me mentally. I think I'm going to try to start hiking super early tomorrow morning so I don't have to be the caboose for a while.
When I got into camp, my entire backside was soaked in sweat, from the top of my shoulders down to my butt. It was so gross. I'm also sticky from head to toe, and my hair is the greasiest it's been in my life.
Yup, I need an attitude adjustment. My mom is sending me the Tao te Jing by Lao Tzu to Kennedy Meadows, where I will sit on my clean butt for four or more days smelling relatively tolerably in clean clothes. I am looking forward to replacing my one pound brick book that is entertaining and interesting, but impossible to make any progress through with a thinner book that gives me bite sized spirituality/philosophy lessons to mull over as I hike.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 584.6: heaviest packs yet
Coming down the last little bit before tehachapi, we We resupplied in Tehachapi, and got some fantastic packages. Amy sent us a Cosmo that was read cover-to-cover by several people, other girly stuff, and tasty treats. Carmen and I both recieved packages of good food from our parents. Hasty might have hit the jackpot though: three letters, a box full of Pro bars that his mom scored in an amazing sale, and goodies like homemade granola.
Hasty, Carmen, and I hitched in together, we got a ride into town from a student named Amanda. Once she dropped us off, another woman named Leslie saw us on the curb, drove us to the post office, waited while we dealt with and mailed our stuff, and took us back into town to the grocery store. Another woman saw us sorting through the food we had and gave us $10. I explained that we weren't homeless, we were just dirty hikers, but she insisted that we get ourselves a treat.
DayGlo and Brian, meanwhile, had found room with a guy that would let us sleep in his yard and give us a ride in the morning. Dan ended up being really cool and interesting. We took him out for Thai food. We ate family style, and My favorite was chicken panang- looks like I really am my father's daughter.
The hike into and out of Tehachapi was strewn with wind turbines: and wind turbines usually come with wind. It really wore on everyone's morale, but I totally nerded out and got really excited.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Hasty, Carmen, and I hitched in together, we got a ride into town from a student named Amanda. Once she dropped us off, another woman named Leslie saw us on the curb, drove us to the post office, waited while we dealt with and mailed our stuff, and took us back into town to the grocery store. Another woman saw us sorting through the food we had and gave us $10. I explained that we weren't homeless, we were just dirty hikers, but she insisted that we get ourselves a treat.
DayGlo and Brian, meanwhile, had found room with a guy that would let us sleep in his yard and give us a ride in the morning. Dan ended up being really cool and interesting. We took him out for Thai food. We ate family style, and My favorite was chicken panang- looks like I really am my father's daughter.
The hike into and out of Tehachapi was strewn with wind turbines: and wind turbines usually come with wind. It really wore on everyone's morale, but I totally nerded out and got really excited.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Mile 533.8: night hiking at last!
Last night we hiked across the Mojave stretch. It was a good decision to night hike; the seventeen miles consisted of:
Follow concrete covered aqueduct
Follow powerlines
Follow aqueduct some more
The scenery was probably pretty boring, but wastching the moon rise and the silhouettes of Joshua trees was neat. DayGlo kept seeing shooting stars, but even though I was training my eyes on the stars forhe majority of the time, they always occured at the moments I was looking down. I really wanted to see one, so I ended up walking at least a mile holding on to a strap on Hasty's pack like a mama elephant's tail (it worked well once he started navigating rather than stumbling around looking up too). Unfortunately I never saw one.
Since it was pretty much a roadwalk all over again, but this time spiced up by bouts of nervousness and searches for trail markers, we stuck together and tried to talk, but we mostly just plodded on in exhausted silence. I was impressed that I never got very crabby or emotional, but that will probably hit today. This morning, I was already awake and had just gotten back in my sleeping bag from a trowel-stroll when Carmen said my name. "What?!"
I said in a very, very grumpy voice, poking my head out with a scowl on my face. Turns out she knew me all too well and had a camera ready just for that. Today might be a good day to hike alone.
Working backwards...
(518)
Yesterday we only hiked 10 miles in the morning and holed up in Hikertown for the heat of the day. It was a very unusual place, it was like a compound with all sorts of old movie sets, and inside each set-building was a bed. We napped. Rumor has it though that the owner is a porn movie producer, but I have my doubts, or at least I justified taking a shower there. It was nice to chill there for the day, we ate hiker food and watched movies.
(508) When we realized we wouldn't be making Hikertown by dark, we called it a night early and played Mad Libs. Hasty wrote a particularly funny one with truly excellent word choice from us girls (read: dirty and inappropriate). It had us all busted up, nearly peeing our pants, clutching our sides, and gasping for air. After reading a very suggestive love poem by Shakespeare on the inside of a Chocolove bar, I think we may start writing dirty poems if mad libs become boring. Anyway, thanks to one of my mad libs, we may have changed our name to Djibouti or Bust. Hasty had earlier asked me "What's the only other country besides Denmark that starts with a D?" and then wrote Jabouti at Hikertown.
574: The Andersons
Completely different from the Sauffleys, absolute party house. Everything and everyone was trashed, I had to take a two hour hammock nap to adjust to the atmosphere. I woke up to hearing DayGlo teaching the Michigan Boys a drinking game. It was impressive, since they seem straight out of a college party frat, but DayGlo kept up with them until two in the morning. I had no idea she had it in her, but she was hurting the next morning for sure. I personally went to bed quite tipsy at the ungodly late hour of 10, after three entire beers a swig of... something.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Follow concrete covered aqueduct
Follow powerlines
Follow aqueduct some more
The scenery was probably pretty boring, but wastching the moon rise and the silhouettes of Joshua trees was neat. DayGlo kept seeing shooting stars, but even though I was training my eyes on the stars forhe majority of the time, they always occured at the moments I was looking down. I really wanted to see one, so I ended up walking at least a mile holding on to a strap on Hasty's pack like a mama elephant's tail (it worked well once he started navigating rather than stumbling around looking up too). Unfortunately I never saw one.
Since it was pretty much a roadwalk all over again, but this time spiced up by bouts of nervousness and searches for trail markers, we stuck together and tried to talk, but we mostly just plodded on in exhausted silence. I was impressed that I never got very crabby or emotional, but that will probably hit today. This morning, I was already awake and had just gotten back in my sleeping bag from a trowel-stroll when Carmen said my name. "What?!"
I said in a very, very grumpy voice, poking my head out with a scowl on my face. Turns out she knew me all too well and had a camera ready just for that. Today might be a good day to hike alone.
Working backwards...
(518)
Yesterday we only hiked 10 miles in the morning and holed up in Hikertown for the heat of the day. It was a very unusual place, it was like a compound with all sorts of old movie sets, and inside each set-building was a bed. We napped. Rumor has it though that the owner is a porn movie producer, but I have my doubts, or at least I justified taking a shower there. It was nice to chill there for the day, we ate hiker food and watched movies.
(508) When we realized we wouldn't be making Hikertown by dark, we called it a night early and played Mad Libs. Hasty wrote a particularly funny one with truly excellent word choice from us girls (read: dirty and inappropriate). It had us all busted up, nearly peeing our pants, clutching our sides, and gasping for air. After reading a very suggestive love poem by Shakespeare on the inside of a Chocolove bar, I think we may start writing dirty poems if mad libs become boring. Anyway, thanks to one of my mad libs, we may have changed our name to Djibouti or Bust. Hasty had earlier asked me "What's the only other country besides Denmark that starts with a D?" and then wrote Jabouti at Hikertown.
574: The Andersons
Completely different from the Sauffleys, absolute party house. Everything and everyone was trashed, I had to take a two hour hammock nap to adjust to the atmosphere. I woke up to hearing DayGlo teaching the Michigan Boys a drinking game. It was impressive, since they seem straight out of a college party frat, but DayGlo kept up with them until two in the morning. I had no idea she had it in her, but she was hurting the next morning for sure. I personally went to bed quite tipsy at the ungodly late hour of 10, after three entire beers a swig of... something.
- Typoed on my iPhone
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
