Link to YouTube slideshow: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KfTmobpnlmg
If you’ve ever camped near rushing water you may understand that it’s like taking a sleeping pill. In the Sierras near Mammoth, the San Joaquin River is small as rivers go, but grows as it makes its way west. It is born at Thousand Island Lake where we would camp on day 2. As the San Joaquin descends into Devils Postpile, the cascades provide some character to the little river branch before it provides vital nourishment to the California Central Valley.
We were awakened by the dawn light as it filtered through the trees in the campground. Breakfast would be scrambled eggs and bacon. Food is a priority for me in the backcountry. I found out about these crystallized eggs and pre-cooked bacon from Backpackers magazine. The eggs are real, in powdered form and when mixed with water – come to life when heat is applied. These aren’t the old-school powdered eggs, they are the real deal. The bacon is real and just reheated. Put two checks in the protein box for today. Only thing missing was toast, but that’s ok. We would have to get our carbs from the pita bread and snack bars.
We packed up our site and headed toward the Devils Postpile Monument less than a half mile up the trail. Afterward, we would hit the JMT and head north. We would be one of the odd 10% of JMT hikers that go north. It just worked out that way mainly for logistics. Devils Postpile is an amazing display of a geologic formation of lava that cooled in long geometric columns. Definitely worth a side visit. We would run into a family that was hiking the JMT from north to south and they proceeded to tell us about the onslaught of mosquitos. A couple of the younger women had 50 or 60 bites – on their arms. Hmmm, either bug repellant wasn’t applied, or these are mosquitos from Hades. They also told us how a bear tore into their non-food bags that were hanging from trees in Lyell Canyon. I wasn’t fazed by these tales of woe, thanked them for the info and looked forward to meeting the challenge (and our dementors) head on.
We made our way up the hill several hundred yards before I realized we were going south. Oops, the morning sun was on my left – that’s not right. I flipped my map around, apologized and asked everyone if they were warmed up yet. I felt like Dr Lazarus in the movie Galaxy Quest, when he was reading his tricorder thingy backwards. We found the JMT junction and crossed the San Joaquin on a nice footbridge. My brother and I brought our DSLR cameras on this trip, the extra 2 pounds worth it since we knew about the vistas that lay ahead. The trail wasted no time increasing elevation as we left the river and the mid-morning heat was on. We peeled off a layer and unzipped the legs off our pants. A bit of sunscreen and bug repellant and we were on our way. Much of this area was devastated by a freak windstorm last year and required much trail maintenance to clear the blow-downs. I was impressed at the amount of work done to restore the trail. Kudos to the Forest Service employees and their army of volunteers.
Our packs were heavy with our full complement of food. We would carry 2 liters of water and a spare .75 liter bottle. Prior to hitting the trail, we would tank up – drinking as much as was comfortable. Hydration is everything when you hike, especially when your body is working hard at altitude with a heavy load. Pulling my Tom Harrison map out, I would occasionally check our position and compare the various landmarks. Eventually, the JMT and PCT split and we would go left to follow the JMT toward a land of lakes.
The trail was fairly steep at 400-500 ft per mile and came with an array of SUDS (senseless up-downs). In a hikers’ mind, you should go up or down, not both. We could hear the cascades of the river below and see waterfalls in the distance. We cinched the shoulder harnesses and load balancers to bring the packs closer to our shoulders as the incline seemed relentless. With a full pack, comfort is not really an option. You shift the load from hips to shoulders and move the pain points around. General rule is uphill-bring the load in close to your shoulders, downhill-shift it to your hips. Always a good idea to play around with waist-shoulder-sternum-load balancer straps as you hike. All good quality backpacks have those adjustments. It takes practice to adjust those while holding hiking poles, sipping water and keeping your eye on the trail.
As the GPS altimeter continued to click up, I glanced again at the maps. The Harrison maps have great detail, but man it was hard to make out those contour lines. As we approached 10,000 ft later in the day, we realized that we should look for a camp near a water source. That wouldn’t be too hard since there was water everywhere. I knew enough to avoid ponds since their still waters are just breeding grounds for mosquitoes. I had cut out select pages of the John Muir Trail: The essential guide to hiking America’s most famous trail, which listed elevation profiles and campsite coördinates along the JMT. It is an invaluable guide and highly recommended.
The guide recommended an area near the Rosalie Lake outlet and it was spot on. There was evidence of a previous camp close by a stream. Too bad we couldn’t make use of the fire ring since there is a moratorium on campfires in the Inyo National Forest.
The campsite was full of those big black carpenter ants. They are pretty harmless from what I remember unless you get close to their colony. They are persistent and get into everything that isn’t sealed up. We learned to co-exist with these critters. One thing, you can’t be afraid of bugs in the backcountry. In the Sierras, most are harmless and bug repellant with 33% Deet works ok. Be careful with the 100% Deet, it melts most plastics. Another thing worth mentioning is that prior to our trip I sprayed our outer garments with Permethrin. I’ve used this on the A.T. and it works great as most bugs will bounce off your clothes-especially ticks. It also is effective for up to six washings. It can be applied to your tent or tarp too.
Dinner was a Mountain Home Chicken & Mashed Potatoes. It’s a good one, four stars. We would wind down our day chatting about how hard the first day was. I told everyone how well they did on the trail and that it would eventually get easier. It didn’t get easier until the last day…
The mosquitos were definitely in charge here, but our headnets and long sleeves/pants kept them at bay. As the night cooled and the breeze picked up, their numbers diminished. The heat of the day was gone and the coolness of Rosalie Lake wafted over our campsite. Temps would drop into the low 50’s at 9,500 ft. The lake outlet was a babbling brook which made it so easy to sleep. If at all possible, seek out those streams, they are nature’s sleep machine.
Late at night, we would see flashes of light through our tent. Why do strange things happen late at night? I was concerned about a forest fire, so I unzipped the tent to watch the sky. To the south – southeast, it appeared to be fireworks. It was only June 30th, but some town must have gotten an early start. Maybe there was something going on in Mammoth Lakes.
Gear we recommend:
shoes/boots –Five Ten Men’s Camp Four Hiking Shoe
hiking pants – Columbia Men’s Silver Ridge Cargo Short
I use a Nikon 3000 series camera and have really been pleased with it. It is easy to use and takes awesome pictures. It’s durable and has survived many hiking and camping trips. Nikon D3200 24.2 MP CMOS Digital SLR Camera with 18-55mm and 55-200mm Non-VR DX Zoom Lenses Bundle
The big day was here. Anyone who has ever hiked in the Sierras can tell you the allure of these mountains. The vistas are like fuel for the soul. This trip was planned about six months ago. We decided to do a south-north section hike of the JMT starting in the Mammoth Lakes area and ending up in Yosemite Valley. 90% of hikers do the north-south route and finish at Mt. Whitney. While that fourteener is on the list, this trip was meant to enjoy a seven-day trek up the legendary trail.
My friend obtained the permit through the recreation.gov website ahead of time. He couldn’t make it, but listed me as an alternate group leader which made picking up the permit easier. I will not go into detail, but if you don’t need to climb Whitney or Half Dome, obtaining the permit is very easy online. Overall, the fee for four people online was $26, which included a processing fee. At the Wilderness Centers or ranger stations, it is around $5 per person. There is no guarantee of trail availability for walk-ins, so plan accordingly.
Since my friend could not make it, I asked my trusty hiking partner – aka my wife to go. She reluctantly said yes! We also asked my older brother who said that it was on his bucket list. Early morning, June 29th we left suburban San Diego heading toward Mammoth Lakes. Today was a hot one, with forecasts putting the temps between 100-110 degrees in the Owens Valley area. Mammoth was projected to be in the 90’s. Whew!
We picked up our permit at the Mammoth Visitor Center and spoiled ourselves with a burger at a local tourist trap before heading to Mammoth Lakes Inn to catch the Reds Meadow Shuttle. The shuttle was $7 and would drop us at our choice of campgrounds. We chose to stay at Devils PostPile Campground. At $14, it was a good bargain and had nice sites located close to the San Joaquin River. We pitched our tents and settled in for a leisurely night before our first hiking day. The camp has bathrooms, potable water, picnic tables and fire rings. This was luxury camping to us compared to the rest of the week. You can tent or RV camp.
We would try out our first dehydrated dinner at the camp. It was an Alpineaire Black Bart Chili. Yummm. We hung out by the river, my brother trying his hand at fly fishing. Discussing tomorrow’s itinerary, we would rest well with the sound of the cascading San Joaquin River 100 ft. away.
Temps are forecast to be in the 80’s tomorrow. Hopefully, as we climb out the temps will drop between 3-5 degrees for each 1,000 ft. Oh well, at least there is plenty of water up here.
Next: Section Hike of the JMT – Day 1
After much preparation, our section hike of the JMT commenced. Our plan was to do a 60+ mile section from south-north. We would start around Devils Postpile and finish in Yosemite Valley. There are a lot of logistics that go into an extended backcountry trip. From clothing, food, transportation – the options are numerous.
How much will it cost? It will vary widely depending on your choices for transportation, gear and food. Don’t go cheap on essential hiking gear. You get what you pay for. The $25 tent is not a good idea for a High Sierra backcountry trip.
It started with choosing a time of year to do it. In the Sierras, the previous winter has a lot of impact on trail conditions. This year was a low snow year, so the streams were not very high. Since there was less snow, that usually means less standing water so mosquitos should not be as bad. Well, that’s debatable. To some, any mosquitos are bad. Ensure that you don’t have problems fording streams or walking across logs over rushing water. Late June/early July worked for us. I hear late August/early September is a good time.
Next choice was the distance to hike. This is where you need to know what your limits are. Can you hike 8-10 miles per day with a full pack at high altitude in 80 degree temps? I can tell you as an avid day hiker, there is a lot of difference between hiking 10 miles with a daypack and with a 40 lb. pack. It’s not pleasant to do a forced march just to make your mileage.
Clothing was another choice. What to wear? Best advice I can give is to check blogs and user groups to see what others are doing. Yahoo has a great JMT user group with relevant info. Due to a forecast of high temps, we would take synthetic short and long sleeve shirts, convertible pants and rain/wind jackets. Still, conditions in the Sierras vary widely, so an extra layer or two is a good idea. Those light weight hiking shoes may not provide enough support on a multi-day hike with a full pack. Test it out first.
Food was next. Dehydrated meals are the easiest and they’ve come a long way. Test some out ahead of time and read the reviews for each. There is some amazing innovation in the area of crystallized eggs and pre-cooked bacon. Ensure they you have plenty of snacks like energy bars, trail mix, beef sticks and fruits like apples. My wife found healthy alternatives in the form of grass fed beef sticks and even some gluten free snacks. It’s amazing how many calories you can burn in 6-8 hours of hiking, so do the math. Bear canisters are mandatory in most areas on the JMT, so plan to rent or bring your own.
Transportation. Since we were doing a section hike, we chose to leave our car in Mammoth Lakes, catch a shuttle to the trail and for the return leg, catch public transportation (YARTS) back to Mammoth. It ended up working out great. Have a backup plan in case you miss your ride.
Research and planning was everything on this trip which helped make it successful. I learned so much reading others’ blogs and experiences.
NEXT: John Muir Trail Section Hike – Day 0
I use a Nikon 3000 series camera and have really been pleased with it. It is easy to use and takes awesome pictures. It’s durable and has survived many hiking and camping trips. Nikon D3200 24.2 MP CMOS Digital SLR Camera with 18-55mm and 55-200mm Non-VR DX Zoom Lenses Bundle
As we prepare for our section hike of the JMT, I am enjoying watching my wife pack, unpack the bear canister. Her frustration mounting, I assure her that it will all fit or we will hang the non-essentials from a tree. Hopefully, by the time we hit Yosemite where bears come to feast, we will have mostly empty bear cans. Whoever created the saying it’s like packing 10 pounds of “stuff” in a 5 pound bag must have invented the bear canister.
The logistics of a section hike in the backcountry are significant. Permits, transportation, food, clothing, checklists, on and on…. Watching her pack, it’s obvious that organized people can get more in their canisters than the rest of us. If you’ve ever crammed a bear canister into an ultralight backpack, you realize that you may be wearing the same clothing all week because it’s either food or clothing.
Keep in mind the pack-it-in, pack-it-out rule. While I agree that we should be good stewards and not leave our trash in the wilderness, it literally stinks to carry your garbage around for a week. I would advise that you rinse out those foil tuna packs after you empty them or your apples will smell like Chicken-of-the-Sea by day three.
Should you pack your bear can with each day’s meals? Like day 5 on the bottom, day 4 above that and so on. I guess if you are OCD then yes. Otherwise, it’s fun finding your food, kind of like the treat in the bottom of a Crackerjack box.
When I got our bear cans, by the way I picked two different types, a Garcia and a Bearvault, I got some reflective tape and made smiley face designs on them. That way, if we need to find a bear can in the dark after Yogi rolls it away, it will be smiling back at us. Along with my phone number, I added a little graffiti like “eat me” and “sorry Yogi” on the reflective tape with a Sharpie. If I have to use those darn things, I will make the best of it.
The old standby canister used by the Park Service: Backpackers’ Cache – Bear Proof Container
BearVault BV500 Bear Proof Container Bear Vault – This one is my favorite, roomy and you can see your stuff.
Always stow your bear canisters between 50-100 ft. away from your tent and wedge them between rocks or trees. Never place them around a cliff or near water unless you plan on fasting for a few days. Enjoy packing them, practice or watch others pack a bear can for cheap entertainment. It’s better than watching Duck Dynasty.
It’s funny how much time you waste piddling around the campsite. By the time we loaded up, it was almost 9 a.m. We had a 7 mile descent ahead. Other than the difficulty of carrying a full load uphill, going down is harder. You tend to slip more and your toes feel like they’re coming out the front of your shoe. The talus was steep and the trail angled, which caused us to compensate by putting more weight on the uphill foot. It was slow going but we were ready to finish this. The focus required to maintain footing was intense. When you think about every step on this terrain being calculated, your brain gets a real workout too.
The volunteer trail crews have done an amazing job out here. On a previous scouting hike of Momyer Creek Trail, I counted no less than 10 blow-downs blocking the trail. By Memorial Day, they had cleared them all. Sometimes, I will make a note on the position of a trail issue and report it back to the ranger station on the way out. The hiking community is tight-knit and are good stewards of the trail. By noon, the exposed areas on the trail were heating up. It was a blessing to go in and out of the forest as the temps would drop 5-10 degrees in the shade.
Toward the end, we started to run into day-hikers and people who seemed to be out for a stroll. As we neared Mill Creek, we heard groups of people and lots of kids. We passed a family heading uphill, their daughter asking us “where the river was?” “River? Oh, you mean Alger Creek, it’s 3.7 miles that-a-way.” I doubt they made it that far as they towed an elderly woman who was inching along. They also had their sodas and snacks in a clear trash bag. Please don’t take me wrong, I don’t mean to make fun of them, it’s the contrast between a few days away from society and being thrust into an urban picnic. We came across another family and after we told them about our 27 mile hike, the daughter asked to take our picture. Of course, we agreed. Wow, we were puffed up now!
We entered Mill Creek Wash and the atmosphere was that of a park, with people gathered around the creek, umbrellas, blankets and picnic supplies. It was too much for us – as in culture shock too much. Civilization smacked us right in the face. What we saw as a simple wash with a creek running through it became a beach front resort to the people of metro San Bernardino.
After getting back to the car, we laughed for a long time about what we just witnessed. Imagine, going into the backcountry for a few days without having time to acclimate to society. We still giggle about it. In the end, our trip to Gorgonio was hard, but great practice for the JMT. Time spent together as a couple was primo. Taking the bear canisters gave Mary an idea what it was like to pack everything (including trash) in a can. One more hike up San Jacinto and we will be ready for one of the best treks in the country.
The scene at Mill Creek showed us one thing – people love to get out and away from the city. Imagine how much more fun it is to venture a few miles out. I encourage you to go higher and farther. Amazing times await you…
Day hiking is definitely a good way to warm up for section hiking. Just like car camping is a good way to warm up for wilderness camping. At least that’s how we approach it.
The first day up Momyer Creek Trail was a challenge. With 3,000 ft. of elevation gain and difficult terrain, we were ready for a quiet night. Our first task after getting camp set up was to get water for dinner and the next day’s trek. I’ve had a Sawyer 2-bag water filtration system for a few years now and it is dependable, albeit a bit bulky for two people. It does require an adequate water source and doesn’t work well in small puddles. The gravity feed from the dirty bag to the clean bag through the filter is slow and takes awhile to filter 6-7 liters.
Dinner consisted of dehydrated meals. Mountain House makes some decent ones that are fairly palatable. We use the portable Pocket Rocket stove with propane-butane fuel. Also found a MSR knockoff stove to use as a backup.
We settled in for the night into our tent as the temperature dropped quickly. After a full day of hiking, it’s amazing how fast you can go to sleep. The first night takes some getting used to, kinda of like sleeping in a strange room or hotel. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz. At first, the sound of the helicopter was distant as we heard it pass through nearby canyons. Suddenly, the sound of the blades were overhead, followed by a bright searchlight. I was like, what the heck? I unzipped the door to the tent to see what was going on when the searchlight illuminated me like a Sci-Fi movie where the spaceship beams you up. The pilot announced through his speaker that they were looking for a lost hiker. I shook my head no, and the pilot proceeded a couple of hundred yards uphill where he lit up the camp were the boy scouts were. This continued for about 10 more minutes and then it was gone. That was midnight. The rest of the evening was uneventful. We never did find out who was lost.
Morning was brisk and breakfast consisted of crystallized eggs and pre-cooked bacon. Crystallized eggs, sounds yucky huh? Actually it is one of the best inventions in a long time when it comes to freeze-dried type food. I don’t know how they do it, but when mixed with water and cooked in a skillet, it is exactly like scrambled eggs. Well, they are eggs. The pre-cooked bacon was also near normal taste and texture. Overall, a tasty breakfast with hot tea. Maybe coffee next time.
Today, we would hike from our base camp at 8,400 ft. to the summit at 11,500. I had Mary drop her main pack and carry a Camelbak hydration pack that I use for mountain biking. I dumped most of the stuff out of my backpack and used it to carry our days’ supplies. We hit the trail and continued through a sub-alpine forest before emerging on the edge of a meadow. Another small stream a mile away provided the last water until our return leg. Crossing above Plummer’s Meadow, we would see the first of many awesome views that day. The switchbacks up to Dollar Lake Saddle junction were steady and steep. This portion of the trail gained about 700 ft. per mile.
At the junction, we ran into a group of boy scouts trying to melt some snow. They had quite the quandary as they did not bring adequate water with them for the summit. It takes a lot of fuel to melt snow and in the end, I believe they failed to make the top that day. Planning, especially water – is everything on this mountain.
As we continued, the elevation ticked off, 9,000, 10,000… No altitude sickness today. It helped that we camped above 8,000 ft. last night to get acclimated. Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) is nothing to mess with. It could begin with a persistent headache, nausea or dizziness and can affect the healthiest of people. Don’t confuse it with a hangover because the symptoms are the same! For a mild case, often hydrating and a couple of ibuprofen help. For persistent or worse symptoms, the only cure is to descend.
We could see Mt. Baldy on one of the switchbacks and the views only got better. We passed through the last trail camp and the tree-line was around 10,700. Up the next switchback, Mt. San Jacinto came into view. The closest of the Three Sisters, its’ majestic peak stands out as a sentinel to the sprawling desert below. Streaks of snow remain at her higher elevations. The trail intersected with Vivian Creek Trail, the shortest-steepest route to the summit. We began to see more people as the trails converged on the summit like freeway ramps.
There are several false summits along the way. Unless you’ve been there before, each view to a taller hill appears to be the top. It’s only when you see people nestled in the boulders like eagles on their nests do you realize you are there. We would take our pics, write in the journal, text our families and have lunch right there – only feet away from people you’ve never met before. The summit had a celebratory atmosphere to it, with everyone smiling and quietly chatting.
You could see for miles or as far as the L.A. smog would let you see to the west. It actually wasn’t that bad today. Big Bear Lake to the north, the high desert to the east and the Peninsular Mountain chain farther south. By the time we left, there were over 100 people up there. Oh well, it is Memorial Day weekend.
The six-mile trip down was pleasant as we would run in to a few more people making their way up to camp at the top. We did not see anyone else after two miles. The constant downhill was harder on the feet and we took a “foot break” at Dollar Lake Saddle. There was a cool breeze as we aired out our socks. The pounding takes a toll on your arches and toes.
By the time we got to camp, we had logged 12 miles and were ready to eat dinner and crash. After filling up our reservoirs at the creek, we had a spicy Mountain House chili meal. It was actually pretty good and one bag was enough for two people. Well, one hungry dude could probably eat the whole thing. After cleaning up, we nestled into the tent around 8:00 with the intent to relax and read a bit. By 8:30 we were in la-la land.
I would be awakened some time later by a bright light next to my head on the outside of the tent. “What is that?” Mary was like – “huh?” I said “that light, what is it?” The flashlight in my backpack pocket must be on I thought. I unzipped the tent and stepped out into the chilly night air. The full moon in all its’ glory had crested the ridge and lit up our tent like the spotlight from the rescue chopper. We laughed and went back to bed.
The wind picked up a bit that night and made a soothing sound as it passed through the conifers on the exposed ridges. Soothing, but a bit eerie as the pitch would vary. Our campsite was on a downhill slope and not affected by the wind. Eventually, we would drift off only to be awakened by the woodland birds at dawn. Most were pleasant to listen to, except for the woodpecker.
Next: Mount San Gorgonio – A Three Day Journey – Day 3: Talus Is Hard To Walk On.
As part of our workup to a section hike of the John Muir Trail this summer, Mary and I decided to do a 3 day practice hike to the summit of Mt San Gorgonio via the Momyer Creek Trail. The tallest of the Three Sisters (San Antonio, San Jacinto, San Gorgonio) it stands out at 11,503 ft. Southern California isn’t necessarily known for its’ majestic mountains, but these peaks are often used to warm up for longer backcountry trips into the Sierras, especially Mt. Whitney.
It’s always good to check in with the rangers to get the latest on trail conditions. Also, get an update on the water flows at the creeks and streams. The office is often staffed with volunteers who are a wealth of knowledge. Having obtained the backcountry permit several weeks prior at the Mill Creek Ranger station, we arrived at the Momyer Creek Trail parking area around 0900 on what we expected to be a busy Memorial Day weekend. Altitude at the trailhead is approx. 5,450 ft.
This was Mary’s first time out with her new Gregory 60 liter pack, complete with a few days worth of food in a bear canister. While the canisters are not mandatory here, I suggested it to get used to our next backcountry on the JMT where they are required. She has the BearVault 500, and I picked up the Garcia canister. Both are highly rated, and I’ve rented the Garcia type in Yosemite. They are cumbersome and take up a lot of space in the pack, but we just dealt with it. My wife is an amazing hiking partner. She really kicks it on the trail and doesn’t complain a bit.
We began our trek by crossing the Mill Creek Wash, which has two sections of the creek that are fairly easy to cross. The terrain gradually changes from the rocky, sandy wash to a single track laced with chaparral. We passed through several wooded areas before breaking out into the open. You want to hit this section of the trail early because it does get hot by midmorning during spring and summer.
The trail begins a gradual climb (around 400-500ft. per mile) with a few switchbacks and moves in and out of deciduous forests. The acorns from the oak trees are among the largest I’ve ever seen. Due to the weight of our packs, we would stop every mile or two for a break.
The first water source on Momyer is Alger Creek, about 3.8 miles up. We climbed to 7,300 ft. before dropping into the canyon at Alger Creek Camp at 7,000 ft. Prior to the creek, I noticed a brightly colored snake on the switchback below. Knowing that it wasn’t a rattler and not poisonous, I slowly approached it. It didn’t budge, so I gently coaxed it with my trekking pole and it slithered away. Come to find out, it was a California King Snake. The water flow was decent with several cascades nearby. We dropped our packs, pulled our lunches out and enjoyed a break at one of the cascades. Taking our shoes off, we dipped them into the stream and laughed at how cold it was. We would also spend some time doing our couples devotion. It was time well spent.
We noticed a Boy Scout troop pass by. We would see them many more times throughout the weekend. We packed up and began a steep climb out of Alger to the next checkpoint – Dobbs Camp junction. We passed through an area of many fallen trees and a 500 yd. gauntlet of thorn bushes. Long pants are advisable through here.
The trail changed from dirt to decomposed granite and became even more narrow as it passed through areas of talus and scree. We encountered a volunteer trail crew pushing blow-downs off the trail. The trail crew leader politely asked for our permit and I obliged. Once he knew we were frequent hikers, he tried to recruit us. We are thinking about doing some type of volunteer work for the Forest Service, but trail maintenance is tough. 🙂 The one bit of bad news they provided was that the large Boy Scout troop was heading to the camp we were shooting for. Man, I wasn’t looking forward to camping near a bunch of kids, but knew that we could find another site in the forest. It was slow going as we passed Dobbs Camp junction but the views of Little San Gorgonio and Mill Creek Canyon were getting better. Momyer isn’t the most scenic of the trails around here, but is definitely less crowded.
We crossed another trickle of a stream before crossing a larger stream near our destination. It ended up being 300-400 yards before our site. As we neared Saxton Camp, I saw a clearing in the woods downhill. We bushwhacked to the area and found a semi-level location. There were some smaller widow-makers nearby, but the weather forecast was looking good, so it was a risk I was willing to take. We pitched our tent and set up for the night after hiking 6-7 hours. It was a long 7 miles today.
Next: Mount San Gorgonio- A Three Day Journey – Day 2: Lost Hiker!
Bloggers have various reasons they write. For some, it is to share their thoughts. For others, it is a release or an outlet for the passion that they may have for a particular activity. Many are amateur photographers and enjoy posting their work. This episode is dedicated to a recent overnight camping trip to one of my favorite places and a quirky area of photography that is fun.
Anza-Borrego State Park is about 75 miles from my home in North County San Diego. From late fall to early spring it provides a variety of activities due to the milder weather. This mid November day found us heading out to an area a few miles east of Borrego Springs to hike and camp. One of the neat things about this state park is the freedom to move about and explore, including free camping. Free? In a state park? Sure, just stay outside the park campground and you can pretty much pitch a tent or park an RV without paying a dime.
While researching camping in Anza-Borrego on the Internet, I stumbled on a blog that discussed “boondocking”. A strange word, the last I heard anything close were the boondockers – black chukka boots that we had in the Navy. However, boondocking is basically free camping in remote areas or private property – with the owner’s approval. At times, there is probably a fine line between legal camping and trespassing, but I’ll only go where it is legit.
So a boondocking we went down Rockhouse Canyon Rd. near Clark Dry Lake. It’s a nice valley located between two mountains – Coyote Mtn to the west and Villager Mtn to the east. Rockhouse Canyon is a dirt road located approximately 5 miles east of Borrego Springs on SR22. You can usually see a cluster of RV’s near the highway as most don’t venture too far down the sandy road. During the week, you can drive a mile or two and find a secluded campsite. There is one rule in the state park: you must use a metal container for fires. However, we noticed there is an abundance of homemade fire rings throughout this area. We pulled in, looked around and noticed the nearest neighbor was almost a 1/2 mile away. Yes, this will work.
We would stay in the valley and hike north toward Clark Dry Lake on the jeep road. Overall, the road was in good shape this time of year. We ended up walking out on the lake bed, passing Coyote Mtn on the left and came up on a quarry. It was a good opportunity to have fun with some levitation photos.
If you look up levitation photography, you will find some very creative shots of people seemingly flying or floating through the air. I’m not very good at it, but it is fun to try and will make for a good laugh a few years from now. The trick is having someone take the pics or to use a remote. The auto settings on the DSLR usually work, but if the light is low, you may need to play around with the the shutter speed and ISO to prevent blurring. Anyhow, this is just another offshoot from being outdoors. You see, hiking opens up all sorts of possibilities. Just use common sense and don’t try levitating in front of a busy highway or railroad track. 🙂
The real visual treat in the desert occurs after the sun sets. You just have to experience it. Tonight, it was nearly a new moon and the stars almost outnumbered the grains of sand on the beach. Next time, I must bring a telescope.
In my opinion, a campfire is an absolute necessity for a night in the desert and knocked the edge off the rapidly dropping temps. The forecast called for 43 degrees, but we came prepared with several layers of clothes and some 3 season sleeping bags. By the morning, it would drop to 33 degrees. The animals were most active around sunset and we observed many jackrabbits. Several desert foxes ventured within 20 ft. of the campsite – curious little creatures with bushy tales. The coyotes began their yelps and would call out from the east and west. Once in the tent, the silence of the desert lulled us into a gradual sleep as I dreamt of the Bighorn Sheep jumping over Coyote Mountain.
Huddled in our sleeping bags, the dawn began to faintly illuminate the tent. I scrambled out and encouraged my wife to come out to see the sunrise. The air was dry and cold, but the sky was beginning to blossom with various hues of light. After watching an amazing display, we made our hot chocolate and enjoyed a nice, hot breakfast. My wife’s first car camping experience turned out very well. I think that she might try it again. Hopefully, next time it will be a little warmer at night. I encourage you to try camping in the desert – it will be a real treat.
It’s been two months since I completed my northbound hike through the Maine wilderness. It was one of the hardest things that I have ever done. It took between 95-100 hrs, almost 12-13 hrs average per day.
Why did I do it? For me, it was the challenge. Maybe it is my midlife crisis, but I needed to prove to myself that I could do something that was physically and mentally difficult. At times, I wanted to quit but there was no easy way out of the wilderness. The hardest part for me were the SUDs (Senseless Up-Downs). But wait, isn’t this the Appalachian Trail? There are supposed to be mountains. We would experience over 30,000 ft. of elevation change in one week. The roots were the next hardest thing. For some reason, most of them are above the ground in Maine.
We met over 100 Southbound thru hikers (So-Bo’s) who started their hikes at Mt Katahdin. The wilderness would test their resolve. Many would take the opportunity to jump off at White’s Landing, spend the night and get a hot meal. Most were Americans, but on our northbound trek, we would meet hikers from Canada, the U.K., Germany, Australia and New Zealand.
As section hikers, we didn’t get into the culture that thru-hikers are immersed in. Their journeys are for months on end with life on the trail being a totally different experience. Our goal was to complete the 100 Mile Wilderness in 7 days while enjoying the beautiful Maine backcountry.
For me, the wilderness tested my limits for physical endurance and tolerance of pain. I learned to work through the frequent muscle aches and ate as much as possible to stretch my endurance. At times, I would just run out of steam, eat some food and hit the trail again. We never thought that it would take over 12 hours a day to reach our goal. We underestimated the terrain and my preparation was inadequate. While I was probably in the best shape that I’ve been in for at least 10 years, it wasn’t good enough. My younger friend who is an active duty Marine, admitted that it was tough. I’m sure he could have finished a day earlier, but in hiking you are only as fast as your slowest member. Mentally, it was a daily challenge to keep taking the next step. At this point, I’m not driven to hike the entire Appalachian Trail. The time, dedication and fortitude to do this for months on end takes a special person.
I learned a few things about myself.
– When presented with a difficult situation, I was able to persevere and complete the task.
– Pain is somewhat relative. Unless you are dealing with an obvious injury, it is mind over matter.
– My determination overrode my perceived limits.
– As a believer, I prayed for the ability to endure. It was answered with endurance.
– Living a week with only what I could carry on my back helped me to re-examine my desire for “stuff” I have too much stuff.
Getting “off the grid” to escape the rat race is really quite the privilege. Of course, most of us have to return to a job, but it sure clears the mind and provides the opportunity to see the amazing creation. In the end, my trek through the 100 Mile Wilderness confirmed why I am drawn to the backcountry. It can bring out the best in you, is therapeutic and can provide focus to the things that are really important in life.
The weather for this trip was mostly awesome. Sunny, clear skies, temperature in the 70’s. I imagined how much harder this would have been if it had been raining. The bogs would have become swamps, instead of rock hopping across streams, we would have been fording. We began our 8th day earlier than usual on the shores of Rainbow Lake. With 7 miles to Abol Bridge, we were ready to finish this marathon.
Making our breakfast, we would hop out on a rock and eat on Rainbow Lake. The water was like glass, the air still. The sun had not yet climbed over the trees. The quiet enveloped us and the solitude was remarkable.
Packing up, we hit the trail by 6:30 or so. Only one more “hill” to climb and one more lean-to. While the trail wasn’t as difficult as the first 50 miles, it wasn’t a walk in the park either. As we walked, our talk turned to food again – our favorite fast-foods and desserts. We both agreed that cheeseburgers were from angels and that we were going to get one after we emerged from this moss encrusted forest. The miles clicked by slowly on my GPS, each 1/10 of a mile taking forever. It probably wasn’t a good idea watching the mileage on my Garmin, kinda like watching water boil in a pot.
We would climb to Rainbow Ledges, a slow steady incline that threatened to sap our last energy reserves. This would be the 12th mountain, maybe the 13th in one week. After a false summit, we would reach the plateau, a collection of granite slabs with blueberry bushes everywhere. They weren’t quite ready to eat, so we just admired the view of Katahdin. We pressed on and the trail seemed to turn into a rock garden.
As we crossed one of the last brooks, we arrived at the Hurd Stream Lean-To. This would be one of the first lean-to’s if you were a So-Bo on the A.T. It was in fairly rough shape and looked small and uncomfortable. I just can’t get into the spirit of the lean-to’s.
As we continued on, we realized that we were within a few miles of Abol Bridge. We picked up the pace and took one more break on a big boulder in the middle of the trail. A So-Bo approached and said “You know, there is ice cold Coke and ice cream at Abol Bridge”. We all laughed because we probably looked pretty bad with our muddy, sweat soaked clothes and gaunt faces. We had one last snack and were determined to finish the last leg. About two miles from the end, something in me snapped and all I thought about was a cheeseburger. I ran past Joe who had been in the lead for 99% of this hike singing the praises of Jimmy Buffet’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise” You know the tune. The look on Joe’s face was one of confusion and humor. Now, I was walking twice as fast as he, sometimes running as my pack and I were one. I would stay in the lead until the end.
Still thinking about food and in a daze, I looked up and saw some people who I recognized heading southbound, but it didn’t click who they were. It was Joe’s family who hiked 5 minutes down the A.T. to meet us. We were happy to see them and enjoyed seeing someone we actually knew. We walked to the last sign before exiting the wilderness and took our last pics.
Mission complete, it felt weird to emerge into civilization. In the past week, we had walked for approximately 95-100 hours, taken over 250,000 steps, endured approximately 30,000 ft. of elevation change, crossed countless brooks and streams, walked across several miles of logs and planks, and hopped thousands of boulders. We never fell into a stream, into a bog, or down a hill. We came close but were blessed with an accident-free adventure.
Oh yes, within a few hours I would have my cheeseburger. Sadly, my stomach had shrunk and I couldn’t even finish it.
My gear: Deuter ACT Lite 65+10 Backpack – Emerald/Anthracite A nice lightweight backpack that is tough as nails. A waterproof cover can be purchased separately.
At the Wadleigh Stream Lean-To. As dawn broke the next morning, we were still in our sleeping bags and heard footsteps outside the tent on several occasions. By the time we rolled out, most of the lean to occupants were gone. Then we realized that we had placed our tent on the path between the shelter and the brook. Oh well, it seemed like a good spot last night. Getting our usual late start, we filtered a few liters from the brook and were on the trail at a decent pace. Climbing Nesuntabut Mtn, we would reach a false summit which had some amazing views of Katahdin. We met a young So-Bo thru-hiker who was taking a break and taking a smoke. Later, I would laugh to myself about this young smoker. Such a dichotomy, long distance hiking and smoking. I wondered if part of his journey was trying to quit. Hmmm. Twenty minutes later we ran into a mother and daughter taking a break on an outcropping. The mom shared their story of hiking up Katahdin with the intent on hiking the 100 Mile Wilderness southbound. After 15 miles, the wilderness had taken its’ toll on the mom. Her legs must have had scratches over every inch. She said that they were going to bail out at White’s Landing, another 20 miles to the south. That was a good thing, because the trail definitely gets harder the farther south you go. Yep, this trail was not for the fainthearted. We wished them well and made the final 300 ft. to the summit.
We would skirt Pollywog Stream and eventually, we would parallel Rainbow Stream to began a gradual climb into the forest. The humidity was high, and I think we were losing more water than we could take in. We would end up drinking about 5 liters of water today.
Rainbow Stream at times was a rushing torrent through narrow crevices and multiple cascades. It was one of the fastest flowing streams of the entire trip. Taking a break, we observed several young people frolicking downstream. Tempting, but we owed the taskmaster about 5 more miles today. After a while, I found myself daydreaming and ended up in a meadow. I noticed a hiker setting up his tent and saw the Rainbow Stream Lean-To below. There were several northbound section hikers who were trying to make Rainbow Springs Campground a few miles away. Thunderstorms were all around us, but other than a few sprinkles, no rain. A Southbounder warned us about the bogs ahead. Lovely, more bogs. Actually, it could have been much worse – if it had been raining, we would have been sloshing through the bogs instead of hopping from rock to rock and root to root.
We took a break and dipped our feet in the stream. Trying to keep my feet out of the dirt, I almost fell in. This became a busy lean-to as a couple of more So-Bo’s would stop in. It was around 4 p.m. and most hikers would be settling in for the day. Not us, we still had a good 4 or 5 hours to go. A bridge, made up of several logs made for a precarious crossing. The thunder would continue, and we actually hoped for some rain. Lightning struck within a mile or so, the crack was sharp and loud. I imagined there was one less tree in the forest. As we made our way around the various lakes and ponds, the trail would be within yards of the bank. Mostly boggy at this point, it would slow our progress. The gnats and mosquitoes were relentless, but we pressed on.
I forgot to mention on Day 6 that Joe stumbled upon the remnants of another hiker’s expensive carbon fiber trekking pole, half buried in a mud bog. Joe would go on to explain that he almost ended up doing the splits into the same muddy crossing. My $25 poles were holding up just fine and kept me from falling down dozens of times. I will never hike without poles again.
We would stop at Rainbow Springs Campground and it started raining lightly. Joe broke out his rainfly and we ate under it. When I went down to the lake to refill our water, I saw a pipe sticking out from the ground with water draining into the lake. I thought that it was odd and put my hand under the water flow. It was ice-cold. Man, this was the first spring we stumbled on and the water was the best of the entire trip. We dumped some of our old water out and filled up with this heavenly liquid. It was so humid out here and the water so cold that condensation built up on our water containers.
The campground area was noisy with the sound of hikers enjoying themselves. We still needed to log a few more miles to make it out by mid-morning, so we packed up and headed north. The light began to fade on our last night in the wilderness. As darkness fell, our eyes would slowly get used to the low light and were able to hike without headlamps for quite a while after sunset. Joe would begin his search for a primo campsite in the blackness of the Appalachian Trail.
We would find an established site on the shore of Rainbow Lake. It was tough to find a spot large enough without roots or rocks, but that’s what the pads were for. The mice would scurry around the campsite and the loons would croon us to sleep in a humid, windless night. I was excited and yet sad that this would be our last night on the A.T. We would be rudely awaked around 0300 when the haunting calls of the loons turned into the mating call of the loons. It was not a soothing sound. But today would bring cheeseburgers…..
My gear: Deuter ACT Lite 65+10 Backpack – Emerald/Anthracite A lightweight pack that is super-tough. A waterproof cover can be purchased separately.
A little advice for bloggers who write about their hikes. Don’t wait too long to write your thoughts down after you’ve completed the hike. While I had the intent on keeping a journal during my hike through Maine, I was so tired at the end of the day that I would just crash. The best I could do was jot down approximately where we were. Funny thing about aging, the short-term memory goes first and by the time you’re really old the ancient memories come back clear as a bell. So, maybe I should just write about this trip in 25 years.
Part of our experience in the section hike of the A.T. was the camping. Many thru-hikers stay in the lean-to’s and say that it adds to the overall adventure. While we didn’t avoid contact with other hikers, we preferred to camp in a tent as it offered protection from the bugs and rain. (It’s still kind of weird to sleep next to strangers in a lean-to) Since we would hike into the night to make our mileage, finding a suitable site was difficult. Joe had the uncanny ability to find decent campsites next to a stream or lake in total darkness. Falling to sleep with the sound of rushing water is either peaceful or makes you go pee. For me, I don’t think that I had enough water left in me at the end of the day as I lost most of it in sweat, so it was just peaceful.
As we broke camp and sent out my daily OK signal on the SPOT messenger, (SPOT 3 Satellite GPS Messenger – Orange) we looked forward to 15 mile days on easy terrain. Actually, there isn’t much easy terrain in the Maine wilderness – it’s just not as brutal. The bogs and roots were still prevalent and the occasional up/down would add some variety. At this point, approximately 60-70 miles into the 100 Mile Wilderness, the trail is never far from a lake or stream. We carried a little less water and noticed an increase in the humidity and bug population. In the summer up here, bug repellant doesn’t last long as you sweat it off within minutes of applying it. We did learn a valuable lesson on one type of repellant. Permethrin is a great bug deterrent when applied to clothing and hats. I treated most of my clothes, including socks and my hat. The bugs would bounce off the treated clothing, so most of the week I would wear long pants and a long sleeve breathable shirt. Sawyer Products Premium Permethrin Clothing Insect Repellent Trigger Spray, 24-Ounce
Hoping always to see a moose, we would continue to see their evidence on the trail. The little moose doodles were almost always on the trail, a reminder of who this path really belonged to. Most of the animals we would encounter or hear were birds and chipmunks. Around the lakes, the loons would make their haunting calls. The chipmunks almost seemed annoyed that we were invading their territory and chatter loudly. I began to imagine that whenever I was having a hard time on the trail, the chipmunks would be laughing at me with their annoying little voices. Little Boardman Mountain was a pleasant summit that provided some decent views of Crawford Pond and the Jo-Mary Lakes. We’ve been using Gu and Stinger energy gels to get us over these hills. They really have made a difference.
The lakes and brooks brought great opportunities to cool our aching feet. Yep, take off the shoes and wiggle your toes in the sandy bottom of a cool, clear lake or dip them in a rushing brook. We would repeat this cooling process a couple of times and take another 35,000 steps today.
Next morning, getting our usual late start we filtered a few liters from the brook and were on the trail at a decent pace. Eventually, we would parallel Rainbow Stream and began a gradual climb into the forest. The humidity was high, and I think we were losing more water than we could take in. We would end up drinking about 5 liters of water today. I ended up getting a lot of use from my water filtration system: Sawyer Products Complete Water Filtration System This thing is bulletproof and great for two or more campers.
Rainbow Stream at times was a rushing torrent through narrow crevices and multiple cascades. It was one of the fastest flowing streams of the entire trip. Taking a break, we observed several young people frolicking downstream. Tempting, but we owed the taskmaster about 5 more miles today. After a while, I found myself daydreaming and ended up in an area that opened up. I noticed a hiker setting up his tent and saw the Rainbow Stream Lean-To below. There were several northbound section hikers who were trying to make Rainbow Springs Campground a few miles away. Thunderstorms were all around us, but other than a few sprinkles, no rain. A Southbounder warned us about the bogs ahead. Lovely, more bogs. Actually, it could have been much worse – if it had been raining, we would have been sloshing through the bogs instead of hopping from rock to rock and root to root.
We took a break and dipped our feet in the stream. Trying to keep my feet out of the dirt, I almost fell in. This was a busy lean-to as a couple of more So-Bo’s would stop in. It was around 4 p.m. and most hikers would be settling in for the day. Not us, we still had a good 5 or 6 hours to go. A bridge made up of several logs made for a precarious crossing. The thunder would continue, and we actually hoped for some rain. Lightning struck within a mile or so, the crack was sharp and loud. I imagined there was one less tree in the forest. As we made our way around the various lakes and ponds, the trail would be within yards of the water. Mostly boggy at this point, it would slow our progress. The gnats and mosquitoes were relentless, but we pressed on.
I used this backpack for the AT hike in Maine: Deuter ACT Lite 65+10 Backpack – Emerald/Anthracite Also got a custom fit waterproof cover made for the Deuter. Well worth it; more stylish than a trash bag.
Other than the occasional pitter-patter of tiny mice feet, the night sleeping under the lean-to was uneventful. My food bag was hanging from a rope and I hoped that the critters had not eaten through the bag. Mice are great at climbing and one of the only deterrents is to hang a can or piece of PVC on the rope above the bag. Somehow the mice can’t pass the obstacle. With 40+ miles to go, it would be awful to have my provisions eaten by a rodent. Thankfully, my food bag was intact.
The other occupant in the lean-to was a middle-aged guy who was a southbound thru-hiker. His journey started at Mt. Katahdin in Maine and had over 2,000 miles to go. He gave us some good tips on the trail ahead of us, told us about his broken trekking pole in one of the most severe mud bogs. The reason there were no tent sites available was because of the 12 or so teenage girls spread out across 3 tents. They must have been girl scouts, because I couldn’t imagine your average teen hiking through this wilderness. Turns out, they were doing a partial hike of this area.
We shared our filtered water with the southbound thru-hiker, and hit the trail ready for a long mileage day. Expecting less elevation change, we hoped to make up some mileage over the next few days. The forest swallowed us up as we began to make good time. While the past couple of days had occasional breathtaking views from the mountaintops, today would be the typical green tunnel of the A.T. Numerous brook crossings and bogs would make the otherwise mundane trek more challenging.
One thing I haven’t mentioned was that in Maine the way they name their bodies of water is different from many other places. Maybe, this is a New England thing. You see, they use brooks and streams for what I normally would see as a stream, creek or river. A brook up here can range from a little trickle to a 40 ft. raging torrent. Streams are even bigger. Even stranger are the ponds and lakes. Up here, the ponds can range from an acre or so to hundreds of acres. Lakes can be the size of, well you get the idea. It’s a different way of thinking up here.
Our pace continued to pick up as our usual .8-1.2 mph uphill crawl increased to about 2.5 mph. We would pass a couple of shelters and had our lunch on a flat section of the trail. Often, we would just dump our packs and have our meals right in the middle of the A.T. I don’t think anyone ever walked through while we were eating on the path. After lunch, we came upon a sign that said “Sandy Beach” Our thoughts turned to a cool bath and an opportunity to rinse out our sweaty clothes. I won’t go into detail about how one smells after 5 days on the trail, but your olfactory senses are somewhat improved after you’ve been removed from civilization for a while. Granted, we would take anti-bacterial wipe “baths” each night, but there’s nothing like a real bath or shower.
The sandy beach was a strip about 5-10 ft wide on a large pond. The water was clear and the waves lapped the shoreline. We shed most of our clothes (except for skivvies) in case those girl scouts showed up, and I broke out the biodegradable soap and we had our first “real” bath of the week. The water was cool but not cold unless we went deep. We also took the opportunity to wash the clothes on our back. Using the same soap, we scrubbed them down, trying to remove a couple of days of trail grime and salt from our garments. We hung our clothes to dry on bushes along the shore with the hope that the warm mid-day sun would dry them out.
While we would have enjoyed some more time swimming, the goal for today was mileage. Feeling refreshed, we pressed on, had dinner on the trail and logged over 15 miles before finding a sweet campsite by a stream. Joe had a good ability to find sites in the dark. Making camp, I was finally able to get a decent fire going.
In fact, the fire was almost too good. The kindling and pine straw crackled and popped like a bowl of rice crispies. Joe had to pour some water on the outside of the campfire to keep the pine straw from lighting. The main reason for a fire here wasn’t really to stay warm, but it did keep most of the bugs away. Moths would be the exception, and I think Maine has 90% of the moth population in the U.S. Eventually, we would settle in for a great night’s sleep next to the babbling brook.
By the fourth day, it felt like I was getting my “trail legs”. That means I wasn’t stumbling as much and hopped along from root to root, rock to rock, log to log, you get the picture. The Appalachian Trail as it passes through the Maine Wilderness is an unforgiving collection of bogs, roots, rocks and streams. There were times, no – hours of walking on tree roots. I haven’t figured out why those roots aren’t underground in Maine. By now, you can see my obsession with tree roots. Of all the terrain obstacles, roots are the worst. They trip you and make you calculate each step to avoid rolling down a hill. As we made our way through a ganglion of wooded tendrils, I wondered how many times we would step on, over and around them. Altogether, we would take about 250,000 steps on this hike. Each day 35,000+ steps. Now, after a few hours of walking we would have to stop, take off our shoes and let our feet cool off. This practice would enable us to hike longer and farther. The feet are amazing appendages. I learned from the Marines just how important it is to take care of the feet. Keep them dry, take care of the blisters and keep them clean.
On this day, we would trek up 5 mountains, over 7,000 ft. of elevation gain. The white blazes on the trees would be replaced by the occasional rock cairn or blazes painted on the rocks. At times, the granite was a collection of sharp stalagmite looking projections that would poke into our shoes. A fall here would definitely leave a mark.
The green tunnel of the lower forests would become a green gauntlet on the mountains. There were so many conifers up here, each one competing for the soil. At times, we could only see 10 feet or so off the path. The bugs were starting to get really annoying up here too. So, July is a pretty good time to hike up here as far as weather, but the pests are still abundant. When we reached the point where we were out of gas, we would have lunch. Today’s hike was much like yesterday and I was looking forward to getting these hills behind me. The climbs seemed longer and harder. Switchbacks are not very common on this section of the trail, so when you looked up, you would see a relentless, steep path. On one ascent, I heard someone whistling a pretty good rendition of the Star Wars theme. As I peeked around the next boulder, the young hiker who was on his way down said, “I thought you might need some encouragement”. You run into funny people on the trail.
On the fourth mountain, we would take a break at the Sydney Tappan Campsite, a rare, flat spot with grass. It had one of the classic privies, or in my neck of the woods an outhouse. Joe made it a point to use these civilized structures while I preferred the Yogi Bear method.
The chipmunks around the lean-to’s and campsites seemed especially adept at stealing food. I was on the lookout for them as they stealthily scampered around my pack. I fussed at them, threw a few pebbles as they chattered back at me. After a nice break, we began our last ascent of the day to White Cap Mountain. We were hoping to get some decent views at the top.
At the top, we dropped our packs and found a large, lichen-covered boulder facing west to catch the sunset. The air was cool as we took in the scenery. We retraced our path, pointing out each of the 8 mountains we had climbed. The contrast of the landscape made the colors of the sky even more brilliant. We acknowledged the creation of this vista did not randomly occur. The Lord’s majesty was all around us. After plenty of pics, we saddled up and began the steep climb down.
The northbound descent from White Cap was interesting with plenty of stone steps. The knees take a beating when you have hundreds of these steps, but it is better than an uneven trail. As darkness surrounded us, we began to search for a campsite, but as usual – there were none. We continued on for a couple of miles and stumbled into the Logan Brook Lean-To around 10 p.m. It was so dark that it seemed to suck the light from our headlamps. An unknown voice from the shelter said something about all the sites for tents were taken. We were so tired that we unpacked and rolled out our pads and sleeping bags in the lean-to. These structures will hold at least 6 people, so we joined the one other occupant and settled in for an uneasy nights’ sleep. Uneasy because it is a bit weird to sleep in the same structure with strangers. Fortunately, it was unlikely that serial killers would venture out this far into the wilderness, so as I drifted off my thoughts went to the other lean-to occupants – the mice. I did not want to share my sleeping bag with these vermin.
I used this lightweight for my hike on the AT: Deuter ACT Lite 65+10 Backpack – Emerald/Anthracite It holds up well and there is even a custom waterproof cover for it.
The first night’s sleep on the trail went too fast. Leaving the rainfly off the tent, the cool air from the stream enveloped the tent causing us to retreat deep into our sleeping bags. The sound of the rushing stream nearby is the perfect way to nod off. In the morning, it must have been in the 40’s as it was brisk. It was tough to get up early, in fact both of us were awake at dawn. However, our bodies said go back to sleep so we did. After a quick breakfast, we would pack up and top off our water.
The trail continued to follow the Big Wilson and we would cross over a couple of brooks before arriving at our opportunity to ford a big stream. As we reached the bank, we were a bit hesitant, but excited to cross. The water was moving at a decent pace, not as cold as the water in the Sierras, and there was a rope that went across.
I’ve never forded a stream with a heavy pack, so this would be a new experience. Putting on some river shoes, we would unbuckle our packs in case we tripped. I gave Joe one of my trekking poles and we held the rope with the other. The water was above our knees, and other than the challenge of walking on top of slippery rocks underwater, the crossing was uneventful. I’ve heard how these streams become rushing torrents after a heavy rain or Nor’easter, but not today.
We would dry our feet and get back into our hiking shoes to begin a gradual up/down track. The trail was a mixture of boggy areas and granite or slate boulders. Crossing multiple brooks, we arrived at the next large stream around lunchtime. This one appeared wider than the Big Wilson. Looking over the map, it appeared to feed the large Lake Onawa that we would see from the Barren Ledges. The rope on this crossing was not as nice, but we forded this stream and started to feel more comfortable with water crossings. While eating lunch on the banks of this stream, we watched another northbound hiker boulder hop across the same stream we just forded. He had some long legs, because if I had tried that, I would have been floating downstream like a log. This guy ended up being from Ireland and was on a fast pace. Afterwards, I would call hikers like this “fast movers”. In my Navy days, that’s what we in the aviation community would call a jet.
After lunch, we began a slow, difficult 2,000 ft. climb up to Barren Mtn where we would get our first decent views of the surrounding country. I might add it was slow because I was the slacker. Joe would power up and patiently wait for me as the weight of my pack slowed me like a boat anchor. The scenery at the top was stunning.
On our 2nd day,the climb up Barren Mtn was hard, but little did I know that by the end of the week, we would experience over 30,000 ft. of elevation change. Up-down-up-down. Why can’t the trail just go up one side of a mountain and down the other? Today would be a longer day, around 12 hours and we would make camp at the base of Fourth Mtn. Oh my goodness, they give the mountains numbers?
On day 3, I told Joe that my ibuprofen tablets were Skittles because I took so many of them. Well, actually I took a couple at night and usually around lunch. This painkiller is the best thing to have on the trail. My first aid kit was like a paramedics kit – I had some of everything. Joe, who carried the map gave me the bad news. Today, we would climb four mountains. Crud, I thought we were climbing a mountain named Fourth Mtn. I silently prayed “Lord, give me strength because I don’t want to climb four big hills. Admittedly, it would turn out to be the hardest and longest hiking day of my life. The climb up the mountains wasn’t just ascend on one side and descend on the other. The trail would go up some, down, up, up and down. I was starting to get upset when I realized, what is there to get mad about? Are you going to get mad at the trail – you chose to do this!
On the trail, your body burns between 3,000-5,000 calories per day, depending how far and fast you go. By lunch, I was out of energy and running on empty. Lunch was tuna, a tortilla an apple and carrots. One of the difficult things to do on a long hike is to pack foods that have the protein, carbs and nutrients that your body needs. My day became a day of mountain purgatory. Up one, down another. The forest was a mix of oak, maple and various conifers depending on the altitude. Sometimes, the young pines and firs were so thick, you couldn’t see 10 ft. into the woods. There wasn’t much wildlife to speak of – plenty of frogs along the way, a few snakes, but mostly birds. If it wasn’t for the birds and the wind blowing through the trees, it would have been very quiet.
The last mountain of the day – Chairback had a treacherous 250 ft. descent through a slide. Not a kids’ slide, but a class 2 rock climbing adventure. A tumble here and you would find yourself in bad shape. We slowly picked our way down, well – I slowly picked MY way down. Joe was at the bottom but didn’t see the blaze for the trail. I happened to see a “cairn” – one of those nice little stacks of rocks that previous hikers made to mark the trail. Farther on, we would see a white blaze and continued our descent into the Pleasant River Valley.
We kept going down as the daylight dwindled. It became a race to make it to the West Branch of the Pleasant River by nightfall. It flattened out for the first time in three days. We passed a group of girls camping, and two who were sitting in the middle of the trail eating. I almost tripped over them as I had gotten used to the darkness on the easy terrain. By the time we reached the river, it was dark. The river was actually fairly shallow, just under the knees and about 150 ft. across. We both crossed without incident, hoping to set up camp as we were around our 13.5 hour mark of hiking.
No, no, no! “No camping”, the sign said. We would just have to find a flat spot up the trail to pitch our tent. 30 minutes, went by, one hour – no suitable locations. Taking a break after crossing one of many bogs, Joe and I sat on a rock sipping water and staring at something that was moving on the other side of the trail. It was big as my hand and was an iridescent off white color – and moving. “What is that?” we said out loud until it became airborne and flew right at our heads! Thump, it would bounce of my head first and then off of Joe’s before flying away. First we tried turning off our lamps, but couldn’t see anything. It would continue to dive bomb us, hitting us in the head, chest and arms until we ran away screaming up the trail. Well, kinda ran away. We would hop from rock to rock across a muddy bog until it lost sight of our headlamps. Afterwards, I would name this monster “Mothra” and Joe would call it “Mothzilla”. It would be our most exciting creature encounter so far.
We continued on, up and down, over roots and through the bogs. Joe would venture ahead moving faster and looking for a campsite. I would hike alone in the darkest woods ever. Then again, I’ve never hiked in the woods in the dark by myself. It would have been kind of spooky had I given it much thought. Beyond tired, I was running on the desire to find a site and collapse in the tent. After another hour of following the white blazes, I caught up to Joe and we proceeded downhill on a trail that was 90% roots.
At the 15th hour of hiking, we found a site relatively free of rocks and roots. We pitched the tent, cleaned up and were asleep within minutes. Now, that was a tough 3rd day. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..