Flatiron Fun-fest
Jonathan decides to test his endurance in the Flatirons by attempting 14 long scrambles in one day.
Over the past year, I have spent a great deal of time scrambling the flatirons, the giant rocks ornamenting the skyline of Boulder, Colorado. For the uninitiated, here’s a quick primer: scrambling is doing easy rock climbs without a rope. The routes are still considered technical rock climbs, but they are of a very easy grade. Boulder is very unique, in that the flatirons above town have dozens of these easy routes that are hundreds of feet long. Scrambling these long routes combines the endurance of running with the technical aspects of climbing.
Scrambling has helped me with the headspace required to be hundreds of feet off the ground with the only “safety equipment” being my own fitness and my shoes. It has helped me learn the routes on these beautiful rocks, along with the access routes to and between them.
Somewhere along the way, I decided it would be a fun test of my endurance to attempt 14 scrambles in one day. No ropes. No special gear. Just me, my shoes, some food and water, and a whole lot of scrambling. The linkup I chose was actually inspired by Bill Wright, who I ran into one day last fall while he was doing a “top ten easy climbs in a day” linkup.
The word “easy” might be misleading there… while each individual climb is graded no higher than a 5.6, these climbs are long and strenuous, and the steep bushwhacking between them doesn’t offer much of a rest. Linking up the flatirons requires traveling off-trail for most of the day and keeping a cool head all the while to make sure that each move is safe and controlled. After all, if you slip, in many places the resulting fall could be hundreds of feet down.
Though my linkup was inspired by Bill’s, I added some of my own favorites to the mix. Here’s the alternative linkup that I created:
Central Shanahan Crag - Southeast Ridge (4th class)
The Slab - SYZYGY (5.2)
Southern Goose Egg - East Face (5.2)
Seal Rock - East Face North Side (5.4)
Front Porch - Tiptoe Slab (5.2)
Stairway to Heaven (5.3)
Angel’s Way (5.0)
Fifth Flatiron - East Face South Side (5.5)
Fourth Flatiron - East Face Standard Route (5.4)
Third Flatiron - East Face South Side (5.5)
Third Flatiron - Winky Woo (5.4) [only non-east face route)
Second Flatiron - South Sneak (5.2)
Sunset Flatironette - Chase the Sun (5.4)
First Flatiron - Direct Route (5.6)
As the chosen day approached, two logistical details became increasingly relevant. First, the high temperature for the day steadily rose in the forecasts from 76˚ to 86˚… not ideal. I had hoped for a day that was a bit cooler. It turns out that these giant, exposed, east-facing slabs of rock soak up the heat, which would leave me practically baking on the rock. On the up-side, though, by choosing a weekend, it meant that Molly was available willing to crew for me. Since this was going to be a monumental undertaking, I welcomed the support. Molly ended up being so much more than a mobile aid station. She was encouraging; she helped keep me grounded through a really brutal day.
And so, at 6am on this chosen Sunday, I embarked on my mission from the Cragmoor trailhead. Molly wished me well, kissed me goodbye, and watched me hike off into the darkness. I actually started the day off with company, though. Nick Zepeda, a friend, coworker, and badass adventure photographer joined me for the first route. I usually scramble by myself, so it was nice to have a friend tag along for the start. The sunrise was stunning as we summited Central Shanahan Crag.
Nick approaching the summit of Central Shanahan Crag just as the sun rose. It was pretty serene start to the day!
Photo: Jonathan
We quickly bushwacked to the bottom of The Slab, where I left Nick and embarked on the next climb of the day. The next few routes went off without much incident. I was feeling good. Strong, even. My favorite climb of the day was the fourth route: Seal Rock’s east face - north side route. It was 850 feet of super-fun climbing.
Ticking off route #1 of the day. 13 more to go!
Photo: Nick Zepeda
Checking my line up SYZYGY on The Slab, my second route of the day.
Photo: Nick Zepeda
Unfortunately, it was directly thereafter that I hit a snag in my day. The local power company had closed the one piece of “real trail” I would be using for the day to do work on the power lines. To ignore the closure could mean $1000 fine or jail time. I decided to turn around and headed back to the start. Bummer! But not the end of my day.
Nick drove me to a nearby trailhead (NCAR, for those of you who know the area) where I could get back onto open trails. Not a big deal. I could still complete the linkup, even if it wasn’t the exact route I had planned. On my way to the next route, I met Molly at my first “aid station.” I knew I would be pounding tons of water to combat the heat, but I didn’t expect to be so thirsty quite so early in the day. Things were heating up!
Off I went to Front Porch, Stairway to heaven, and Angel’s Way. At this point in the day, I began to realize just how challenging things would get. I made sure to take my time in order to conserve energy.
After this grouping, I headed over to the five “major” (read: numbered) flatirons, which would hold the remainder of my routes for the day. By this point in the day, it was freaking hot. I found my way to the Fifth Flatiron, but not before first getting on the wrong damn rock. Whoops! Oh well, not the first time I’ve made such a mistake. I got through the Fifth and made my way to to the base of the Fourth, where Molly was waiting at my next mobile aid station. I proceeded to drink an appalling amount of water before heading upwards once more.
At aid station #2, I was halfway done with the day. Seven routes down, seven to go.
Alrready feeling hot and tired at the halfway point.
Photo: Molly
Then I got on the east face of Fourth Flatiron and started up it. This was the low point of the day. I had begun cramping pretty much all over my body. My feet, my hamstrings, and my calves bore the worst of the tightness and fatigue. The Fourth Flatiron is 1,000 vertical feet that is actually three separate pieces of rock. It felt like such an ordeal to get to the top of this one. I was pretty fried while trying to get off the summit. Luckily, the downclimb is a single move.
East Face of the Fourth Flatiron. Route 8 of 14.
Photo: Molly
From there, things got better. Sort of. A few clouds came in with a gentle wind. The breeze and the reprieve from the sun helped cool me down, which helped my sanity. My body as whole, though, continued to feel just awful through the rest of the day. My cramping would only get worse. The bottoms of my feet were as sore as they have ever been in my life. Oh, and the fatigue. It turns out that this sort endeavor is tiring (shocking, I know). In spite of the physical distress, the rest of the day felt successful. I was going pretty slowly by this point, but I was still able to make the moves I needed in order keep myself safe while maintaining forward progress.
I love climbing the Third Flatiron. The 1,300 foot East Face Left route was the longest of the day. In spite of the strain on my body, I still enjoyed the hell out of this route. The downclimb off the Third is the longest and most serious downclimb of the day. I was glad that it went off without incident. I then climbed up the more vertically inclined, but relatively short, Winky Woo before coming back down the Third a second time.
South Sneak of the Second Flatiron. Route 12 of 14.
Photo: Molly
Molly was a sight for sore eyes when I reached the base of my route up the Second Flatiron. Molly gave me water, food, and a much needed push to finish what I had started. With only three routes remaining, I knew I could bring this thing to a successful close. I’ll be honest, though, it was nice to hear it coming from someone else.
I plodded up the Second Flatiron and Sunset Flatironette before arriving at the last route of my day: the 1,000 foot East Face Direct route of the First Flatiron. This route is the one I have climbed the most often. I know it well, but it was also the hardest route along my linkup, stacking up at a grade of 5.6. My hamstrings really tried to revolt on this route, seizing up on alternating legs as I made each move of the first 100 feet. This quickly let up, allowing me more uninhibited movement for the remaining 900 feet of climbing.
After dismounting the First, I began to hobble my way back down to the Chautauqua trailhead, signifying the end of my day. Molly met me half a mile up the trail to cheer me me on as I cried and willed myself to run the final stretch. That was one helluva day!
Running in the final stretch to Chautauqua trailhead. I’m pretty sure those people on the left of the photo are getting family pictures taken.
Photo: Molly
Finished! So tired! Sitting in dirt!
Photo: Molly
Final stats:
Time: 11h 22m
Distance: 15 miles
Vertical gain: 9,900’
Number of routes climbed: 14
For anybody that’s interested I’ve included a link to the Strava event.
Cheers,
Jonathan
Our Next Adventure: Thru-Hiking New Zealand
This November, Jonathan and Molly embark on a 3000km thru-hike of New Zealand’s Te Araroa. Read on to learn more about our next epic adventure!
90% of the conversations between hiker trash basically revolve around two things: food and poop. But once in a while, you do actually hear a hiker talk about that thing they’re doing all day every day. You know… hiking.
And when hikers talk about hiking, they love most of all to talk about any trail other than the one they're currently on. “Trail X is harder than this one.” “Have you done trail Y?” “I’m definitely doing trail Z next.”
Very early in my first thru-hike on the Appalachian Trail (2012) and before I really knew what I'd gotten myself into, another hiker told me about a mystical, international thru-hike involving canoes, an epic ocean beach walk, the gnarliest forests imaginable, and some insanely tall mountains. With all the zeal and confidence of someone who'd made it 100 miles into her first trail (read: a full-blown n00b), I decided then and there that I would, one day, hike that trail.
A few thousand trail miles later, this trail stayed stuck in my imagination. This year, I somehow managed to convince my crazy partner, Jonathan, that we should quit our jobs, put all of our stuff in storage, and fly halfway around the world and be homeless in the woods. Again.
Meet Te Araroa.
"Te Araroa" means "The Long Pathway" in New Zealand's native language, Maori. The trail stretches 3,000km (~1,864mi) from Cape Reinga at the northern tip of New Zealand's North Island to Bluff at the southern tip of the South Island.
The trail starts off with "90 mile beach" along the Tasman Sea, then veers up into a series of forests with some of the gnarliest terrain on the trail. It then passes through Auckland, New Zealand's largest city, before heading into a realm of ever-changing terrain types: farmland, rainforest, and even... wait for it... Mordor. That's right, the trail ventures daringly close to the one and only Mount Doom (otherwise known as Mt Ngauruhoe). There's even a section where hikers take to a river and canoe for several days! And that's just the North Island.
The South Island is home to the Southern Alps. The high point, Aoraki / Mount Cook, soars from sea level to 12,218ft and another one of this island's destinations, the Milford Sound, was apparently called the Eighth Wonder of the World by Rudyard Kipling. The trail here goes through two national parks and includes a number of New Zealand's famous Great Walks.
There are so many reasons that this trail has intrigued us, but here are a few of the juiciest:
1. Flora and fauna.
From the world's only alpine parrot to the world's tiniest dolphins, New Zealand has some insane plants and animals that just can't be found anywhere else.
2. Sheep-to-people.
That's right: New Zealand's sheep-to-person ratio is about 6:1, meaning that there are far more sheep there than people. Not a bad place for two people who love Merino wool as much as Jonathan and I do.
3. Tramping ≠ hiking.
“Tramping” is what New Zealanders call hiking or trekking, but it’s not exactly the same thing. In New Zealand, a good deal of the tramping goes cross-country, without a real dirt pathway or trail. Navigation is more complex and though nowhere in NZ is more than 80 miles from the ocean (according to Thermarest, anyway), it still gets pretty wild out there.
As you might imagine, adding international travel to a thru-hike complicates pretty much everything involved in the logistics and planning. But that’s part of the appeal, too. Jonathan and I are looking for an adventure that pushes us in every way: unpredictable weather, tough and unfamiliar terrain, 15-hour flights… trying to figure out which noodle brands in NZ offer the best calorie-to-weight ratios. All of the important ways.
Over the past 3 and a half years in Colorado, we’ve both grown a lot. Jonathan has grown into a new industry, now managing a sushi restaurant in downtown Boulder. I’ve also made a career change (or several) and will leave Boulder having managed a crowd of over 3000 writers and built out a suite of business analytics for a growing startup. We’ve also grown as adventurers, adding skills in all different types of rock climbing, backcountry snow travel, and ultra-running.
But now, it’s time to go back to the life that we dream about in our spare time. The life where we sleep in a new place every night, where we’re smelly and tired and sore. The life where we’re free.
Once hiker trash, #hikertrashforlife.
Stay tuned for more about our gear list, buying flights and travel insurance, and our pre-trip gear test adventure.
Spring into the Mountains (with help from Red Ace)
Spring is in the air and Dan shares his latest adventures, along with a sweet lil discount code from Boulder company, Red Ace.
Winter is in the rearview mirror. One week into April, spring is in the air, change is everywhere.
Meet Jake. Jake doesn't know he's a model. Jake pulls on a 5.11 start.
Benefits of having a great growing group of friends and the variety of climatic zones to play in - I've had a lot of luck with days spent outside. Also, I have to thank Red Ace Organics. They've sent us a case of an amazing supplement to demo on our long days out - a great natural way to boost energy between climbs or keep moving without crashing. They've also provided a 15% discount code for any of our readers (captainsofus)!
In February I got a couple unexpected days of cragging in while the sun was out and beating down in the lowlands. I had the chance to practice some trad climbing and rope skills on North Table Mesa with new and old climbing partners (despite back pain from an accident over a year ago). A week later Jonathan, Molly, and I headed out on our first group multi-pitch route in Clear Creek Canyon. When our rope became stuck, I had to ascend to free it before all three of us could repel down. It was definitely a great education experience.
I could write several posts about climbing goals, skills and safety, and how much I love vertical exploration. After teaching with the Boy Scouts and Avid 4 Adventure, I've gained an affinity for rock pulling so I'm happy the weather close to home is warming.
Frizzle really pushing the meaning of "cross-country" skiing.
This winter at altitude I discovered Backcountry Cross-country skiing. This sport is a perfect match - low impact and helps me strengthen my core and back while improving my balance (great therapy). It's also an accessible way to avoid the crowded, groomed trails and resorts. Jonathan, Molly and I made a full day together in-bounds at Eldora practicing good technique and putting some miles on our equipment before trying things out on a national forest trail.
I'll take this moment to say that sometimes groomed, designated trails are great — route-finding in the snow when conditions aren't good can require creative solutions. We had hoped for more fresh snow, but the storm didn't drop any so we modified our route. Nothing risky, but we did have hop a stream or two. Adventurski!!!
As the spring warms the lowlands and weather hits the mountains, I am continuously looking to grow, explore, and adventure outside. Stay tuned for more.
- Dan (Soapbox)
Check out their website. Use our discount code for 15% off: captainsofus
Ouray Ice Fest
The captains strap on their crampons and learn to ice climb at Colorado’s Ouray Ice Festival.
Welcome to 2017!
Since the Captains moved to Colorado over a year ago, we’ve gotten much more familiar with the amazing rock climbing in the Front Range and beyond. This weekend, however, we ventured out into new territory at the 2017 Ouray Ice Festival.
Late Thursday night, Dan, Jonathan, and I rolled into the tiny town of Ouray, CO and made the first of many stops at “Mr. Grumpy Pants,” a local brewery with a healthy serving of mountain attitude. Ouray and the surrounding canyons make up one of the world’s best ice climbing destinations and the 3-mile long Ouray Ice Park is less than a mile from town, right along the Uncompahgre River.
A 7:00am view of Ouray from outside of town to the South.
Although the town has just 800 residents, the Ouray Ice Fest attracts more than 3,000 people each year. Proceeds from the festival benefit Ice Park itself, which costs over $200,000/year to create and maintain. For the low, low cost of a $5 “gear card,” it’s really an amazing opportunity to demo some top notch gear, climb in a world-famous ice park, and see some of the world’s top ice climbers compete.
While many of the Ice Fest’s visitors stay in hotels and shower after each day of climbing, the Captains -- lacking resources for that kind of vacation -- enjoyed the Ice Fest in classic dirtbag style. By day, we used the brewery as a home base to warm ourselves by the fire (and take in the local delights, naturally), and by night, the team ventured outside of town, where Dan stayed cozy in his Subaru Forrester while Jonathan and Molly took refuge in their tent.
With winter camping gear, climbing accoutrement, food for the weekend, and 3 sets of cross-country skis, the trusty Forrester carted around our beautiful “pile of toys,” as one observer put it. And boy, did we put those toys to good use.
Day 1 of the Fest was warm and sunny (around 32°F), as we started swing tools and figuring out how to walk up walls of ice. If you’ve never climbed ice or seen someone do it, it’s basically the most ridiculous hobby ever. You strap sharp pointy things to your feet (crampons), hold sharp pointy things in your hands (ice tools), then walk your way up vertical ice flows on tiny sharp points of contact. As you might expect, we are all in love with it.
Here are Dan and Jonathan getting after it on day 1:
Although we quickly found that the rumored crowds were a reality, we were lucky to find our people at the base of the wall: two of our neighboring climbers were recent PCT hiker trash! Sharing ropes with the crowds meant more climbing for all.
Molly belays amidst a sea of festival-goers.
Later that evening, we packed in a quick nordic tour on the pass above town, then stole the chance to night climb outside of the park on a natural waterfall right next to our camp site.
What a day!
Jonathan topping out on the last climb of Day 1.
And just in case you were starting to think, “this hobby isn’t quite silly enough,” well, don’t you worry; it only gets sillier.
Rather than simply climbing up walls of ice, on day 2 we ventured into the world of mixed climbing (“mixed” referring to a mixture of rock and ice). Since climbers are wearing gloves and carrying picks, the “rock climbing” involved is not what you might imagine. Rather, climbers use the picks on their tools to pull themselves up using tiny ledges and small cracks in the rock.
Here’s Molly just starting out on her first ever mixed route:
After an abbreviated day of climbing, we headed back to the car to cook up some hot chocolate and whiskey on the side of the road. Dan captured the dirtbag glory of this moment, featuring an avalanche shovel/wind-screen and a metal file to stir our tasty beverage:
We had to warm up quickly because the Mixed Competition was just getting good!
Back in the Park, elite climbers were speeding their way up the mixed route known as “Mighty Aphrodite” to a steel tower with plastic climbing holds. The climber who achieves the highest point on this route in the fastest time is declared the winner -- and this competition is known for its challenging routes. In 2015, not a single climber made it to the top.
This year’s route:
We were lucky enough to watch several amazing climbers, including a 15-year-old (?!) from the U.S. Youth Mixed Climbing Team (who knew that even existed?). And I had a fangirling meltdown when I got to see Ines Papert, a world champion mixed and ice climber and registered super-human. Ines not only took first place in her division for this competition, but she also won her division handily for the speed climbing competition the following morning.
Here’s Ines rocking a figure 4 on her way to the win:
With a long drive ahead on Day 3, we woke up early and claimed our route, 130ft of beautiful blue ice. Our toes were freezing, but the burritos were warm and this last climb was a group favorite.
All in all, the weekend was a fantastic adventure and an amazing introduction to ice. This certainly won’t be the last time you’ll see us swinging tools.
Cheers,
Jonathan, Molly, and Dan
Our Next Adventure: The Colorado Trail
The Captains of Us are back in action! This August, Jonathan and Molly will undertake another crazy adventure: attempting to fastpack the 485-mile long Colorado Trail (CT) in just 14 days.
Remember that one time when Dan and Jonathan thru-hiked the PCT?
Well today, I'm happy to announce that the Captains of Us are back in action! This August, Jonathan and Molly will undertake another long-distance adventure: attempting to fastpack the 485-mile long Colorado Trail (CT) in just 14 days.
Jonathan and Molly living it up on the PCT in Washington
To give you all some perspective on why this might be a little bit crazy, let me explain a bit more about the CT. One of the countries "short long trails," the CT runs from Denver to Durango through eight major mountain ranges, seven national forests, and six wilderness areas. The majority of the trail is over 10,000ft in elevation and the high point sits at 13,334ft on Coney Summit in the San Juans. Most thru-hikers take between 4-6 weeks to complete the trail, according to The Colorado Trail Foundation, averaging about 15 miles per day. In order to complete our hike in 14 days, Jonathan and I will need to hike an average of 34.6 miles per day; that's more than a 50k per day, on average.
Here is a map of the trail to give you an idea of where we'll be, and an elevation profile to show you the dips and climbs that equal a grand total of approximately 75,000ft of elevation gain:
For a number of reasons, including travel logistics and differences in the terrain, Jonathan and I have decided to go against the usual flow of backpackers and hike from Durango to Denver, instead of the reverse. This means that we will encounter higher and more challenging terrain first, while our bodies are fresh, and move into the lower and (slightly) more easy-going terrain during the second week. While most hikers need time to get used to carrying a pack and hiking for days on end, we're going to have to be ready to put the miles in on day one.
As I mentioned above, we're going to be "fastpacking" the trail, rather than doing a traditional thru-hike. The line between these two forms of travel is a bit fuzzy, but you can think of fastpacking as a combination of backpacking and trail running, or, in our case, the lovechild of thru-hiking and ultra-running. Fastpackers, in general, travel lighter, faster, and farther than most backpackers. For this trip, we'll be carrying ultra-light packs with lots of front-access for food and water, to avoid long stops. Our pack base weights will probably fall around 8lbs each, and we'll be sharing gear to help keep our loads to a minimum. Don't worry mom, I promise we'll be carrying a tent.
Our Fastpack 30L vests from Ultimate Direction will help us carry our gear in a small and compact space to ensure that it feels secure as we run along the trail.
Usually, when I explain this concept to people, I get one of two responses: either, "Is that even possible?!" or "Why on earth would you ever want to do that?!"
The answer to the first question is actually pretty easy: who knows?! We'll get back to you when we're done hiking. There are actually a few runners who have completed the trail in just 9 or 10 days, although most were supported. The current unsupported record is just under 11 days, set by Shawn Forry in 2012. Makes 14 days sound downright leisurely, right?
While this is certainly going to be a challenge for us, Jonathan and I have been planning this trip for a while, and we will be doing a lot of training to get our bodies ready. Check out this blog post I wrote about setting challenging, but realistic adventure goals. And seriously, where's the fun in going on an "adventure" that you already know is possible?
As for the second question, of why we want to do this, well I guess that's a little more personal. Jonathan and I like to push our physical limits, and we love to spend time in the mountains, sleeping out under the stars. This trail in particular will be a phenomenal opportunity to bask in the beauty of the Rocky Mountains and our new home state of Colorado. We can't afford to take four or five months off this year for a longer thru-hike, so we have decided to make the absolute most of our two-week vacation. Gotta pack it in when you can, right?
Catching the sunrise on Independence Pass. Sometimes, you have to wake up when the world is sleeping to see the things no one else sees.
Stay tuned for updates about our gear, food, resupply schedule, and training regimen!
Cheers and happy summer,
Molly
This is why we're here
Molly gifts Jonathan an extra-special adventure for his 28th birthday: a 3-day backcountry skiing hut trip.
Today I turn 28 years old. For my birthday, my amazing girlfriend Molly planned a backcountry skiing hut trip for us. Boy, oh boy! Three days and two nights way up there in the Colorado Rockies, and it was only my second backcountry ski outing. What an adventure it turned out to be.
We skinned up eight miles to Betty Bear Hut on the first day, another five miles on day two to Skinner Hut, and all the way back to the car on day three. These supposedly "rustic" cabins were fantastic. They honestly had nicer kitchens than my own apartment, making our ultra-heavy food supply all the more worth it. After being accustomed to carrying the lightest gear possible for my PCT thru-hike, it was a bit a change to carry a can of coconut milk with me, but we relished the taste of red curry veggies, pasta, bacon, pancakes, eggs, potato hash and mac 'n' cheese before and after long days of skinning and skiing.
In choosing to move to Colorado, I was not only electing to share my life with Molly in "the real world," but also to take advantage of the mountains that now lie right outside my front door. The Rockies are so immense, so expansive that you could spend a lifetime exploring them. While I've done a bit of summer adventuring at high elevation, this is really my first season getting into high-alpine snow adventure. I'm so thankful for the opportunity to learn new mountain sports and the girl who has shown me the way. This is why I'm here, and I'm loving it!
Betty Bear Hut
Molly napping in Betty Bear Hut next to the fire. So cozy!
View from the front deck of Betty Bear Hut. Right out the front door; what a view!
Betty Bear Hut even had a freaking breakfast nook with an immaculate view of the mountains. It really doesn't get much better than this.
Onward and upward! Molly skinning on our way up to Skinner Hut on day two.
The view on our way to Skinner Hut. Not too shabby, if you ask me.
SHE'S GOT TWO FACES.
Modified #BrinsonBanksing, ice cave style! Someone built this cute little cave right outside the front door of Skinner Hut.
Heading back to the car on the morning of day three got off to a rough start. At just under 12,000 feet, the climb back over Hagerman Pass was brutal. High winds and hard snow made for sideways hail straight to our faces. Visibility was practically zero, and I felt like I was skinning into the abyss.
45 minutes later and safely on the other side of the pass, it was like a whole new world. Sunshine and calm winds made it quite delightful. (note the giant ice chunk still stuck to Molly's face from going over the pass.)
Molly heading back down from Hagerman Pass on our way out. Just look at all that glorious powder.
Skiing down through the woods; nearing the end of our trip.
photo/molly krumholz
Cheers,
Jonathan
Nolan's 14
POSTER'S NOTE:
If you have been following Dan and Jonathan's blog since its inception, you may remember a certain red-haired tagalong who started popping up about halfway along the PCT when she and Jonathan hiked a double marathon together (the *real* one). 900 miles later, there she was again, photobombing their monument pictures. When the boys realized that they hadn't booked a ride back to STL, it was Ms. Frizzle and my Magic School Bus on loan, who came to the rescue. (Or at least, that's sort of how it happened...).
After leaving these fine fellows in St. Louis, I drove back to Vermont to live off the fruit of my parents' table for a few months while splitboarding the East's finest backcountry. You might say that a life of free rent and powder refills sounds pretty good. And it was. But I just couldn't leave these guys alone.
Somewhere along that 900 miles, I fell in love with Jonathan and to my delight, he agreed to go on another crazy adventure in which we moved from our respective homes here to Boulder, CO to play in some really big mountains. Daniel even moved out to Golden, CO, just down the road, putting the third wheel back on our PCTricycle (Or is that me?).
I've shared a lot of great stories with the Captains of Us, and I may pop up once in a while to tell a story or two when these clowns are taking themselves too seriously. I think its realistic to say I outrank them.
-- Major Frizzle, reporting.
THE REAL STORY:
The natives call these mountains the "14ers": the 54 peaks in Colorado above 14,000ft in elevation. There are websites, even an app, dedicated to the pursuit of summiting the whole set. Since arriving in Colorado in April, Dan, Jonathan and I have collectively summited 10 of them, but this past week, Jonathan and I got a little ambitious and decided to do a few more. Ok, a lot more.
Taking 4 days off, we decided to attempt a route through the Sawatch Range developed for a challenge known as "Nolan's 14". This challenge, that some insane athletes complete in under 60 hours, goes up and over fourteen 14ers by the most expedient possible route, which can vary slightly depending on who you ask. On average, to complete the challenge, you have to cover between 90 and 110 miles and do 44,500ft of climbing, or, about 3.5 times the amount needed to summit Everest from Base Camp. Much of this is off-trail route-finding and, as we soon discovered, much of that is scambling over sketchy, loose scree at 13,000ft. Check out the details of the route here.
No problem. We have 4 days and we're in good shape, right? Right?
On Day 1, we wake up to a frosty car window and put the alarm on snooze for a few more moments in the relative warmth. It is cold already at 9,500ft, but we start up the trail and we both feel strong as the sun comes up. Mt. Massive is the second highest peak in Colorado, the largest contiguous area above 14,000' in the U.S. and our first challenge of the day. Instead of taking the Class 1 trail up this rockpile, the route takes us up the shorter North Ridge, a steep Class 2 scramble. Huffing and puffing up the last few hundred feet we see someone heading down toward us.
"Wow, he's moving fast!" Jonathan exclaimed. The guy was wearing a running vest and was jogging off-road down the slippery rocks. When we came up to one another, he asked where we were headed and we explained our plan to hike the Nolan's 14 route. The guy grinned. He said, "I'm just finishing up!"
What?!
"Actually," he continued, "I think I'm about to set the speed record!" His GPS was at 51 hours. We asked him his name. Sure enough, when we got home there it was "Andrew Hamilton breaks speed record on Nolan's 14". Check out Andrew's website here for some inspiration.
Back to us, we had just barely made it to peak #1. It felt great. And look at that view behind us!
Made it to the top of Mt. Massive
Mt. Elbert looms in the distance as we hiked through a lovely valley.
On to the next! Peak #2 is Mt. Elbert, the highest peak in the Rockies, at 14,433'. Usually known for being one of the easiest 14ers, it turns out that Elbert has a dark side. (Its the west one). Instead of cruising up Class 1 trail on the East Ridge, which would add lots of mileage, we ran down the back side of Massive, hiked up a 4WD road to the West Ridge and proceeded to climb 3,000 vertical feet over 1 mile of extremely loose, football sized rock-missiles. Do people really do this during a speed attempt?
Jonathan in front of Mt Elbert. Our route went up the ridge on the left.
Nearing the top and closing in on 8,000ft of climbing for the day, we were working for that summit. (read: I felt like I wanted to die). It even started snowing on us: Happy Autumn! Suddenly, we heard someone cheering us on. I heard Jonathan say: "They're so close! There's someone on the summit and they're so close!" Motivated, we pushed onwards to the summit.
This is how I felt on the summit of Mt. Elbert
At the top of the Rockies, we enjoyed a new view as our cheering squad erected his "BEER HERE" flag and cracked a tall boy. His friend was wearing a "DRINK WATER" sweatshirt and did not take photos with the flag, although it sounded like he had probably carried it for most of the hike. Mr. Keystone Ice told us it was his first 14er. (Yea... we know).
Man and Beer met on the summit of Mt. Elbert
Jonathan and I were pretty wrecked after that climb and as we ate our summit snacks, we both realized that we were burning through food way faster than we had anticipated. We wouldn't have enough for even two more full days of snacks, and looking at the maps, we also realized that the best, and maybe only, opportunity to hitchhike back to the car for a resupply would come on Hwy 82, right on the other side of Elbert. So, we changed our plans.
It got dark as we finished our descent to the highway and we cowboy camped near the road, talking about our changing expectations. Before we left, we'd been impressed by the athletes who completed Nolan's 14 in just 60 hours. After just two peaks and just under a quarter of the elevation gain required to complete the route, we were astounded. After about 13 hours, covering 22 miles and over 8,000' of elevation, it wasn't that we were behind schedule. We were just ready to sleep. Soundly. Not do another 40+ hours of hiking.
Instead, we had a great night's sleep, and woke up to a beautiful morning. Did I mention that it's autumn in the high country? The aspens glowed that morning, amber against the sunrise as we walked down the highway, waiting for a hitch.
Jonathan captured this majestic shot of the aspens in the morning light.
Not a whole lot of traffic, but what a lovely morning for a walk!
Highway 82 is a direct route to Aspen, so after a stream of dapperly dressed folks in Priuses drove past without flinching, a pickup truck was a welcome sight. An older gentleman pulled the truck to the side of the road and motioned for us to hop in the back. Hooray for pickup hitches!
The view from the back of the truck.
After two easy hitches, we made it back to the car, drove into Leadville and concocted a new plan over delicious coffee at City on a Hill Coffee & Espresso. New plan: Hit La Plata Peak (#3) that afternoon, then drive south to hit the two southernmost peaks the following day.
La Plata was a steep hike, but the trail was relatively easy-going and the weather was gorgeous. We were sore from the previous day's hike, but we made it up to see another mind-blowing view.
Summit of La Plata Peak
Crazy-looking ridge seen looking north from La Plata Peak
It was an uneventful evening, but we had fresh food waiting at the car, so we were in great spirits as we drove south to the Angel of Shavano Trailhead, close to the southern terminus of Nolan's 14.
I wasn't feeling great the next morning, but the sun was up and off we went. The trail up Mt. Shavano follows the Colorado Trail for a few miles of stunning aspen glades and well-manicured path, then juts upwards through a forest of krummholz trees to a high saddle. Mt Shavano and Tabeguache Peak (say: "Tabawatch") are close together, connected by a gorgeous rocky ridgeline, and after snack breaks on both (of course), we felt like we had done enough for one weekend.
Things got a little silly on the Summit of Shavano
Jonathan doesn't want to go back to work after the Summit of Tabeguache.
Molly enjoys watching over Tabeguache Peak as the Gargoyle of Shavano.
Finally on our last descent, we decided to take Friday to rest and recuperate our bodies before returning to work on Saturday. For good measure, we ran down Shavano, jogging the last few miles under a golden roof in the late afternoon sun.
The ambiance of an aspen grove in late afternoon as the leaves turn golden is an almost unparalleled experience. So unbelievably serene.
That evening, a little sore and pretty tired, we drove up to Breckenridge to meet up with Washpot, who Jonathan had met on the PCT, and his girlfriend, Charlotte. Back at their place, we scarfed down a whole pizza and talked about tiny homes with a stunning view of Mt. Quandary (a 14er in the Tenmile-Mosquito Range). Washpot enlightened us with an answer to a questions we've been pondering since arriving in Colorado: Does high altitude give everyone gas? The answer? Not everyone (Charlotte was quick to explain), but almost. Coloradans have a name for this syndrome: HAFE, or, High Altitude Flatulent Expulsions. Well, now we know.
On our three day mini-adventure, and within 60 hours, we had hiked about 50 miles, climbed approximately 18,000ft (about 1.5 Everests) and bagged 5 peaks. Plus, we had two good nights' sleep! Even without going for speed, the rocky terrain and consistent high elevation were hard on our bodies and we would have been very hard pressed to hike for more hours than we did. We learned that, more than anything, Nolan's 14 is about brutal endurance: the willingness to push for hours, and when it gets hard, to push harder. In terms of the challenge, we completed only 35% of the peaks (5 of 14), but over 40% of the total elevation gain as well as about half the mileage (with some different routes, of course). We also slept for approximately 18 hours and drove for 3.5 to 4 hours. The rest was mostly eating, with some hiking interspersed in there. Let's just say we came back with a healthy respect for the athletes who complete the whole thing in that same time frame.
Maybe one day, we'll come back and bag the rest of the peaks. Perhaps someday, we'll even have a fighting chance at completing the challenge. For now, I'm pretty pleased with the fantastic days we spent hiking in these beautiful mountains. Altogether, not bad for a weekend.
Cheers,
Words: Molly (AKA Ms. Frizzle)
Visuals: Jonathan
The Strange Folk Festival: Soapbox has pictures at Cranky Yellow!
Hey folks. We're still alive and kicking. Short update first: Pedi and I have relocated to Colorado and are living in Boulder and Golden, respectively. The PCT had/has a profound effect on both of us. More on that later.
Currently, Soapbox has submitted photo prints to Cranky Yellow in St. Louis for the Strange Folk Festival at Union Station. The Strange Folk Fest is located in Union Station mall in St. Louis. It's a festival of makers - some 200 next-wave small businesses and vendors: crafters, artists, designers and vintage curators. If you are able, stop by Cranky Yellow and see some cool art.
Pedi Project
We are still alive. Jonathan and I are both in St. Louis, MO. Here's a little photo series/update! Hope all the 2015 PCT hikers out there are enjoying their prep work, I definitely feel like I could hit the trail again. Ozark Trail, the CDT, the AT, the American Discovery Trail. So many opportunities for adventure. So much of the world to see. I digress... on to the meat and potatoes:
Jonathan is a photojournalist by training. His eye is searching, he is framing, he is that weird guy with a big camera that you manage to lose track of when suddenly he's by a tree on the hill snapping shots of you while you walk by. He completed a photo series, the shots of all the hiker trash, as we walked the PCT which he posted on the blog a while ago.
This is my somewhat meta project of Jonathan shooting while we hiked. Carrying a 3 lb camera mounted on a hip holster while you hike 20+ miles a day can be tough, I heard about it more than once. While I carried a Fuji X100 during the early stages of the trek, by Northern California I had shipped the x100 and was taking pictures with my iPhone exclusively. I have a lot of respect for his work ethic while we traveled - tuning out the noise, writing, shooting, editing, posting. Many hikers start blogs, few keep them alive. I was lucky to hike with someone so talented in that respect.
The first day out. We both took a ton of pictures. The trail was new and we were finding out what worked.
Third day on the trail, close to the Sunrise Highway in southern California. The trail overlooks a large stretch of desert, I think the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.
Jonathan sets up a group photo on what very well might have been a cornice on Forester Pass. Heart attack.
Taking a picture and a break lake-side. We were on our Mt. Whitney evening approach.
I think Quinoa made it across dry this time.
Jonathan shooting some climbers just after they reached the top of Halfdome. The most stunningly beautiful place I've ever been.
We all took a ton of pictures on Halfdome. Here is Jonathan taking a break to shooting on the way down.
This was the day we reached the halfway point on the PCT. This is the last time I saw Pedi for a little while, I reached the halfway point with Midway.
I caught Jonathan shooting for his Hiker Trash project. Usually I was holding the Tyvek in the background, luckily I shirked my responsibility to get a pic.
Fast forward. Jonathan captures another of the more beautiful scenes on the PCT - Mt. Rainier to the south, sun setting to the west. This was the day after my sickness in Washington.
An appropriate end to a trip. Frizzle getting some classy shots at the PCT northern terminus. Note the clear-cut US/Canadian border. Neat.
Cheers folks, thanks for checking out the blog
Dan
#LifeIsWILD - moments from the trail.
Jonathan and I have both been rigorously submitting attempts to win the #LifeIsWILD contest. The contest is built as part of a marketing campaign for the new movie, WILD, about Cheryl Strayed's adventure on the PCT (adapted from her book). The contest is looking for transformative experiences.
“Cheryl Strayed was changed forever by her adventure in the WILD, and we want to learn about YOUR transformative experiences in the great outdoors!”
Everyday was an adventure. Every day we were in nature. Every day was wild. The moments captured by pictures, these blog posts with our stories are more our attempt to make sense of the experiences we had. Nothing we create comes close to the time spent on the PCT. But take note and I try to remember that the PCT is just a dusty path. Dusty paths are everywhere. Pick one and follow it. You don't have to try to be John Muir, Cheryll or us. You can get lost anywhere.
Anyway, here's some of my favorite entries. The contest ends today so cross your fingers for us.
Dan's shots:
This day I learned natural beauty is unmeasurable, GI bugs are miserable. dichotomy on the PCT #LifeisWILD #contest pic.twitter.com/DKVpg92Xur
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) December 7, 2014
Her first backpacking trip she hiked 18 miles a day - swarming mosquitoes, ice fields, mountains #lifeiswild #contest pic.twitter.com/nxk3KwsF9l
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 26, 2014
Overwhelmed, we stopped to take the world in. Instead the world took us in. #lifeiswild #contest @radstam #pct pic.twitter.com/bVgU62nPaQ
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 19, 2014
climbin' up the side of Pinchot Pass. 1 down, 1 to go - Mather Pass was next. #lifeiswild #contest pic.twitter.com/oTYq69icCH
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 17, 2014
As the rain came in sheets we continued north, we were motivated to find shelter. #lifeiswild #contest @radstam pic.twitter.com/xWOj8iVJdn
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 14, 2014
"It's all down hill from here," he said as they descended from highest point on the PCT #contest #LifeIsWild pic.twitter.com/6GR3DIQjUJ
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 11, 2014
We reached the top of San Jacinto and made it through the snowy night. To Canada! #LifeisWild #contest pic.twitter.com/6Zm2SUCtSa
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 4, 2014
There we were... end of an epic saga. 2600+ transformational miles. New adventures await. #PCT #LifeisWILD #contest pic.twitter.com/jjA5jQx7qx
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) December 12, 2014
Some people like to watch the world burn... but we just wanted to hike away from the fire. #lifeiswild #Contest pic.twitter.com/oaFU3SM0IT
— Daniel Beerman (@toBDaniel) November 28, 2014
Jonathans shots:
The last ridge to Canada helped put the hike in perspective. #LifeIsWILD #contest #pct pic.twitter.com/kIBOBY46Kv
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 29, 2014
The sprawling Mohave desert at sunset on the #PCT. #LifeIsWild #contest pic.twitter.com/KIcU9im22a
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 21, 2014
A rainstorm at sunset in southern Oregon on the #PCT. #LifeIsWILD #contest pic.twitter.com/s2QyWxHDoX
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 19, 2014
Sometimes you have to sit by a river and meditate on the #PCT. #LifeIsWILD #contest pic.twitter.com/x8Qt8xyqnt
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 17, 2014
The #pct goes past gorgeous lakes like this one in NorCal. #LifeIsWild #contest pic.twitter.com/walbdpBeNc
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 15, 2014
Golden hour in the forest is my favorite. #LifeIsWild #PCT #contest pic.twitter.com/1r1sf0MZWs
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 14, 2014
Sometimes exploring the wilderness involves epic creek crossings. #PCT #LifeIsWILD pic.twitter.com/9q3Ue1CECL
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 7, 2014
There’s nothing like the first time hitching in the bed of a pickup to get back to trail. #LifeIsWILD pic.twitter.com/QQ1NhzvIrv
— Jonathan Hinderliter (@radstam) November 4, 2014
As always, thanks for reading.
Dan
PCT data
It's been a couple months since we've gotten off the trail. We have had time to reflect a bit on the experience as a whole. To try and summarize the Pacific Crest trail is a difficult thing to do, but what we can do with much greater ease is show you some numbers and answer some questions that help put our hike in perspective.
Favorite section
Pedi: Depends on how I look at it. In terms of beauty, the Sierra Nevada is the clear winner. The things I saw up there were beyond the realm of things I knew existed. When it comes to all around good times and adventure, though, it's hard to beat Oregon. It was such a fortuitous time on the PCT. Everything fell into place and new avenues opened up that blew our minds.
Soapbox: Hiking in the Sierra Nevada was also my favorite. I dreamed of that section, seeing Half Dome, experiencing the challenges, and no part of it was disappointing. Many other PCT hikers will echo Pedi and myself. If I had to offer each section an award:
- Oregon - most fun, least strain
- Washington - most challenging, diverse, and wet
- SoCal (desert) - most dry, possibly heaviest average pack weight (long water carries)
- Sierra - most iconic, best town stops, best tasting water, highest altitude, bear canister award
- NorCal - most weird
Least favorite section
Pedi: I can't say I really have a least favorite section. Even through the hard times I was thankful to be on trail. If I had to pick something though, it would be split based on how the sections affected me. Southern California was the most physically challenging. I was in near constant pain from blistered feet. Not only did this make hiking difficult, it also meant that I was practically immobile once we were done hiking for the day. This was incredibly inconvenient. Mentally, I think NorCal was the most challenging. It's long, hot and I found myself getting more grouchy during this section.
Soapbox: Not really applicable for me. Even my sick days didn't keep me from enjoying Washington.
Favorite town stop
Pedi: Portland was a magical place. It was one of only two times I went to a town that was far off trail. It was my first time, and I got a grand tour that packed as much delicious food and culture into two days as possible. We were given a car to drive and town clothes to wear. We were practically normal people! Boy did that make life convenient. All of that being said, most town stops were a delight in their own way.
Soapbox: We had a chance to experience so many places for such brief moments and in such unique ways. With that in mind, I loved our first town stop and zero day(s) spent in Idyllwild. We learned who our hiker family was (kind of). We succumbed to a hiker vortex for the first time there. Two days! As we hiked out we got a hitch from two really interesting dudes.
Least favorite town stop
Pedi: Sierra City. Many, if not most town stops are very circumstantial. It totally depends on who you meet, when you're there and, especially, how long you are there. Sierra City was a tiny thing that would have been fine for a quick afternoon, but the two and a half days I spent there was way more than I would have preferred.
Soapbox: Chester, California. The day I reached the PCT halfway marker I hiked 22 miles with Midway. He and I were both experiencing some kind of stomach bug And we could not get a ride into Chester - the only time that hitching completely failed me. The next day I spent in Chester I mostly slept under a flight of stairs at a hotel.
Number of shoes used
Pedi: 6 (This is an unusually high number. I used three pair in the SoCal alone because of rapid feet swelling and size problems. The second pair I traded for)
SoapBox: 3 pairs... trained in my first pair + 700 miles. 1300 miles in the second. Still wear my third pair sometimes.
If I did the PCT again, what would I do differently?
Pedi: Two things specifically. First, I would start with bigger shoes. Avoiding the blisters and foot pain of the desert would dramatically change my experience during that section. The shoes I started with were only one size larger than normal and were not wide enough. The sweat, heat and friction caused them to become "meat grinder feat" as Soapbox so aptly call them. Once I got shoes that were a full one and a half sizes larger than normal I was good to go. Second, I would add more variety to the food in the resupply boxes we mailed ourselves. I thought they were diverse when I made them. Little did I know how wrong I would be by the end of the trail. I could barely look at a bag of that same trail mix, Pop Tarts and peanut butter crackers.
Soapbox: There are sections where I wish I had hitched off-trail to experience side adventures, days I could have hiked more miles, and to trust that "the trail provides" earlier would be useful at the beginning. More explicitly, I would learn more about the areas we hiked beforehand. We did so much research to prep for the trip itself that I wish I would have obsessed over gear a little less and researched some history, flora and fauna. I found myself often wanting to know more about the places we passed through. That said, I gained so much info about the PCT and logistics, I'm not upset.
DATA SETS
PEDI | DESERT | SIERRAS | NORCAL | OR | WA | TOTAL |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
DAYS | 40 | 29 | 34 | 20 | 24 | 147 |
MILES | 702 | 400 | 595 | 457 | 508 | 2662 |
RESUPPLY STOPS | 9 | 4 | 7 | 6 | 5 | 33 |
ZERO DAYS | 7 | 3 | 5 | 4 | 1 | 20 |
NEAR-O DAYS | 3 | 5 | 5 | 1 | 3 | 17 |
MILES/DAY | 20.4 | 17.3 | 21.4 | 26.9 | 23.3 | 21.3 |
MILES/DAY (+ ZERO DAYS) | 16.8 | 15.5 | 18.3 | 21.5 | 22.3 | 18.4 |
LONGEST DAY | 35 | 30 | 54 | 52 | 32 | 54 |
SOAPBOX | DESERT | SIERRAS | NORCAL | OR | WA | TOTAL |
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
DAYS | 40 | 29 | 34 | 20 | 24 | 147 |
MILES | 702 | 400 | 595 | 457 | 508 | 2662 |
RESUPPLY STOPS | 9 | 4 | 8 | 6 | 5 | 33 |
ZERO DAYS | 6 | 3 | 3 | 4 | 1 | 17 |
NEAR-O DAYS | 3 | 6 | 6 | 1 | 3 | 19 |
MILES/DAY | 19.8 | 18.2 | 19.7 | 27.3 | 23.1 | 21.3 |
MILES/DAY (+ ZERO DAYS) | 16.8 | 15.5 | 18.3 | 21.5 | 22.3 | 18.4 |
LONGEST DAY | 27 | 31 | 40 | 36 | 32 | 40 |
We hiked the same PCT, but some days Soapbox hung back, Pedi sped up or one of us wasn't feeling well so we would do our own thing. Let us know if you have questions!
Cheers,
Dan and Jonathan
The case for ultralight
There is a trend among backpackers toward using less and lighter gear which has grown over the past decade and is popularly known as the ultralight or “UL” movement. This shift is part cultural, part technological.
The packs carried in the past were significantly heavier than those we carry today because we have materials that simply did not exist five or ten years ago. Packs in the '70s had external aluminum frames that weighed 3.5 lb minimum. My pack (just the backpack) is 2 lb 2 oz. Apply this same shift to nearly every piece of gear available and it totally changes how people outfit themselves for long distance hikes. This is especially true on long-distance trails like the Pacific Crest Trail. When you hike 20+ miles day in and day out for five months, every ounce matters.
I truly applaud the women and men of older generations who went mountaineering and hiked long-distance. They faced far more challenges than I did, and they did it with base weights far greater than mine. For reference, your base weight is how much your pack weighs with all your gear in it, but without food or water. To really start getting into the realm of lightweight and ultralight backpacking, your base weight will should be around 20 lb and 10 lb respectively. Carrying much below 10 lb is both impressive and crazy. It should be noted that achieving a base weight of 10 lb or less probably involves foregoing any medical kit or creature comforts. It definitely means you aren’t carrying a stove.
While "going UL" is becoming more popular on long distance trails, you should heed a few warnings before buying a bunch of fancy, lightweight gear. A better or more expensive set-up (read: more UL) isn’t going to make you a good hiker. For that matter, what does it even mean to be a good hiker? There's nothing competitive about it, and generally speaking, there is no exact right way to do this hiking thing. All I can do is share my perspective, and in my opinion going UL is a good way to go.
For many, UL gear is simply not an option. You can pretty much count on the lightest gear being the most expensive gear (with some exceptions, mostly in the homemade category). Many hikers may decide they want to join the UL ranks, the big challenge is balancing cost and weight. Sometime you have to sacrifice dollars for fewer ounces. As you learn about gear you may find it can become an obsession.
If you do decide to join in the UL movement, here are a couple pieces of advice. First, don't be a dick about it. Just because you might be UL and don't have any single piece of gear weighing more than 2.5 lb doesn't make you better than any other hiker. Second, there are other things to talk about on the trail than your gear. A little bit of gear talk is great. Most hikers, myself included, love learning about new gear and seeing how it works for different people.I hiked with a couple of UL bros who pretty much never shut up about their base weight. It got really old, really fast.
For those long-distance hikers who are not UL, having a higher base weight does not mean they’re doing it wrong. Some people are perfectly happy carrying extra weight or like the luxury of a few key items. Sometimes these items are about preparedness. This could include a SPOT device, compass, maps, jackets, warm clothing, etc. If you get caught in the wrong weather at the wrong time with the wrong gear, things can get very scary, very quickly. It can be dangerous and potentially lethal. While I don’t like carrying more than I need to, I’m never advocating neglecting gear that very well may save your life if it starts raining and gets cold or windy. A good friend of mine from the trail, Smokes, carried an extra of damn near everything and often that was really handy (not just for him!). Smokes is well-versed in wilderness survival. He was ready for anything both in terms of gear available and mental preparedness. On the luxury side of gear, certain people enjoy their creature comforts. Maybe you want your book, harmonica, wind shirt or town shirt. Dan carried a harmonica for the whole trail. Hike your own hike. (HYOH. It’s a phrase/acronym you hear often around trail. It means do your own thing, and let other people do their own thing.) Those people probably value those comforts over big miles anyway. There is nothing wrong with that.
There are, however, other hikers who are not UL and who may not even have the heaviest of gear but just have way too much gear. These people's gear choices seem to be guided by fear. You should never go into a situation unprepared, but do not underestimate how much you can do with very little. Do a shakedown of your pack sometime and consider how much you truly need each item. There are likely quite a few that will never be used nor missed once you have ditched them. (A shakedown is when you dump everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, out of your pack to re-evaluate exactly what you do and do not use/need.) Do you really need that Tiger Balm? Why on earth do you have a knife that big? How come you always walk into town with at least two days worth of extra food?
Once I lightened my pack I quickly realized a few things. My legs hurt less, especially going down hills. I could go faster and I was more nimble. Heavy, bulky packs can be unruly and make it harder to maintain a brisk pace. It makes climbing over obstacles more cumbersome too. I could go farther each day. Because you burn fewer calories with less weight, you are usually less exhausted. Even if you don't want to do big miles or hike hard, the fact that it reduced leg pain and strain would have been enough to convince me.
Because of the UL trend, at least in part, the outdoor gear industry has been shaken up over the last few years. Smaller cottage companies are springing up all over the place because they came up with new ideas on ways to approach gear. Sure, it’s a cliche word nowadays, but I love seeing this innovation. The proliferation of cuben fiber in the backpacking world is perhaps the best example. Do a search for cuben fiber gear and look in awe at what you can make out of it and how little it weighs. (i.e.: Z-packs and Hyperlite Mountain Gear.
I don’t think the trend will completely take over the backpacking/hiking world. There are still more than enough people who aren’t worried about weight and want to take their time. This trend will, however, continue to grow, just as thru-hiking does.
Take it from me, a guy with absolutely no credentials who has only done one big hike and then made a blog about it, dropping your base weight can make life way easier on trail.
Cheers,
Jonathan
The passes - Pinchot and Mather
This posts takes us back to the High Sierra when we carried solar panels, extra clothes, and bear cans. Refer back to the previous two posts about both Forester and Glen passes - climbing them took time and required some logistical coordination. Surely climbing two in a day wouldn't be a great idea...
We had put ourselves in a tough spot, we hiked out from Kearsarge with 6 days of food hoping we would be okay hiking through the Sierra, we had a deadline. To get to the next food resupply we needed to hike both Pinchot and Mather in the same day and we thought we could do it.
The two passes were only 5 miles apart, both were over 12000 feet. Pinchot was straightforward, we camped in its shadow so the approach would be easy: hike a short distance and climb 2000 feet as soon as we woke up. I woke up late - around 7:30 or so, and was hiking alone. The climb was steady, but snow fields covered the trail most of the way. It was easy to get lost with the pass not yet in view.
I lost the trail several times, but once I could see where the pass was I just hiked straight for the it. Closing in on the final climb I stopped in the snow field. When I looked around and saw Quinoa and Pedi making their way in the snow behind me. Somehow I had gotten ahead of them by climbing over a rise in the snow pack while they followed the trail around the rise. I laughed because I was ahead now and because I was having the time of my life in the most beautiful, rugged landscape I'd ever been in. The pass was in sight and Half and half was ahead. It was time to get to the top. Looking forward, I saw the trail in the distance and plenty of foot prints in the snow to guide me.
I was third to gain the pass and the view was incredible. All four of us had made it and we ate a late breakfast together. Next we set our sights on Mather. The descent from Pinchot was easy - the trail was mostly uncovered and the north side of the pass was fantastic to look at.
Mather was a more gradual climb over 6 miles, but took longer than two hours. On the way up we encountered a ranger! She was headed the opposite direction and just asked for our names, but it was an incredible encounter to me. She was clean and carrying a huge pack and a shovel. She wished us luck and took down our names and let us go. I couldn't help but admire how clean she looked next to us, with our worn out shirts, shorts and tiny backpacks. She was hiking out to her summer appointment, most likely.
We made it to the final climb quickly - a couple stream crossings and walking on some snow, we crunched across hoping to avoid postholing as we went. It had looked easy from distance, but was not. The first part of the climb was fun compared to the other passes. The switchbacks were steep. I was able to look around and really observe the scenery. Mather had a gradual approach with a big lake at its base and the trail snaked around to the east. As we began the climb up switchbacks we entered the shade of the afternoon sun and we were totally exposed. After just a short way up I looked back to see what where we had come from. I took in that moment in the mountains.
The High Sierras are really like no place I've ever been. Snow covered and treacherous, they command respect. From the high places we could see vast expanses of white and grey teeth jutting upwards. We got to sample some the forces that helped shape the landscape as the cold wind whipped. I felt my own smallness and was struck by my insignificance relative to the giants I crawled upon. In that moment, on the side of a mountain pass, I was humbled by the enormity and majesty of the raw expanses which I was granted passage over. My moment of romance passed quickly, though - I had more altitude to gain and then we had to get down safely.
Loose talus (gravelly rock) and snow covered, the trail on the last few switchbacks was a littler nerve racking, and the mountainside was a deceiving 60 - 70 degree incline so no one fancied slipping. At one point I was clambering on softened snow and ice and slipped, feeling a shock from my feet, up my spine and in my neck - the image of me with my heavy pack (bear can included) sliding and falling down a mountain flashed in my mind. Immediately, I punched my fist into the snow on my left side and stabbed my trek pole hard on the right. No harm. Just sweating like crazy and that image not fading quickly enough. The snow had been in the sun all morning, after all, we couldn't rely on it to carry our weight as we gained altitude in the hundreds of feet.
The rest of the climb I finished carefully and was really happy to see the final switchback was mostly cleared of snow. The down climb was going to be rough - it was late in the day and the snow was soft and the first part of the descent was completely covered with thick snowpack and a few jutting rock points.
Pedi and Half and Half chose a different route than Quinoa and I. All of us postholed over and over again. I was soaked from falling in the soft snow, sweaty and exhausted by the slow, slipping down climb - fearing with each step I would sink into the snow, into some unseen pointed rock. Oh, and I was concerned the other two wouldn't find a safe way down and that I'd hear a yell from higher up on the pass as the sun began to set. The north side of Mather Pass was steep and had some shear cliffs and the trail probably navigated them well, but we had no idea where the trail was underneath the layer of thick snow.
Finally I made it to a boulder field and could hop from rock to rock downwards. Quickly I descended and found the trail - until that point I was just searching for a route in soft snow that led safely downward. Even though the trail was acting as a channel for ice-melt, I walked the cold water, completely soaked, but happy to take a full step again with confidence. To make progress. After what seemed like hours, I was anxious to find the others and to find a spot to camp.
After a few minutes of trudging in the water I saw Pedi and Half and Half! And they were ahead of me! Quinoa had postholed a lot and fell once or twice, but scrambled down quickly as well - I had a sense he was not far behind me the entire time as I could hear him cursing when he postholed (I'm sure he could here me, too. I'm not Soapbox because I'm the quiet one). Finally we could hike down and find a spot to sleep without slipping. We were exhausted.
With the four of us reunited and the trail immediately in front of us we hiked as fast as we could to find a place to camp for the night. As a reward for our double pass day we hiked to Palisade Lakes just as the sun set. Beautiful end to a day, but the Sierras had taken quite a toll on us.
Cheers and thanks for reading,
Dan (aka Soapbox)
View all the snow fields we crossed that morning from the top of Pinchot
Quinoa encountering a ranger.
Nature.
the snowy, icy slopes of the south side of Mather Pass. Almost fell here...
Jonathan standing at the top of Mather.
View of Palisades Lake and the north face of Mather Pass.
Sunset at the outlet of Palisades Lake, we were still searching for a camping spot.
Soapbox's PCT (beard growing) timelapse
I took all these pictures of myself while I hiked and I needed to do something with them so I made a video. The trail takes its toll on a body and you can definitely see a change in through hikers as they travel north.
Watch the beard grow!
Soapbox's gear reviews: pt. 3
Use sites like Steep and Cheap, I suggest knowing what you want and watching for deals if you have the time. Also, this is a great gear reference: 10 lb Backpack.
The other stuff:
Navigation
I read the book to help prep. I made little notes in it and used it as a reference point and to help me feel less insane since everyone I knew thought I was crazy for deciding to walk across the country. At least this Yogi person and the people that answered the questionnaire understood my mania.
The book comes with “beta” pages or tear-out pages about sections of the trail. They included phone numbers, diagrams, notes from other hikers. Jonathan and I shared a copy. I saw these pages only a couple of times, but the info was quite useful.
I love this app. It’s free. It’s accurate. It was reliable. I wish Halfmile made an app for my everyday life. “You are 2.2 miles off trail for your life. Get it together. The shortest distance to achieving your goals is ...” I could use support like that. I miss looking at this and knowing where I was, where I needed to go and the fastest way to get there.
If you are hiking with a smart device, this is the way to go.
While using Guthook and Halfmile I could answer most questions about the trail. Guthook costs money, each section was $6. You can buy the whole suite of apps for $30, I think. Go for it, although if you are on super strict budget, you could get by without.
Water storage
Smart Water bottles and a wide mouthed Gatorade bottle. Don’t carry Nalgenes for they are heavy.
Maybe use a platypus or camelbak container for the ease of packing. In the desert I carried up to a 6 liter capacity using plastic bottles from gas stations. They're light, durable and cheap!
Water purification
AquaMira - Mix part A with part B. Wait. Add to bottles. Wait. Drink. Tedious but effective as long as you use it correctly. Chlorine Dioxide (active Aquamira) /= bleach.
Sawyer / Squeeze (3oz) - This is a great purification solution. Compared to the pumps and thing I used growing up, you can't ask for a better innovation. That said, using it every day gets old fast. Its not as quick as using drops because you have to fill the bag and squeeze it, which can get more difficult with dirtier water. Also, the bags can break or leak and contaminate your clean water. The filters do fit on several water bottles, which helps with the bag issue. For me - this is for short trips or back up/emergency water purification method.
Bleach (household bleach is typically Sodium Hypochlorite, although you should always check the container for potency and composition if you are planning on using a chemical to treat your drinking water)
Treating water with bleach is definitely effective, but there are certain risks and may not be able to destroy cryptosporidium pathogen with 2 drops in a liter. I used bleach to treat water from Northern California to the border and have used bleach in the past very frequently. There are plenty of studies out there discussing the use of bleach as water treatment. I would consider reading up on water treatment. Start with the CDC or something.
Misc
I carried a myriad of other items in my backpack. These included a harmonica, an iPhone, iPhone charger, sketchbook, pen and pencil, permanent marker, some paper, my hiking permit, and some money and credit cards. These extra things can add up fast. Your friends may put rocks in your pack. You might put a beer in your bag to have on the first night then forget about it (great surprise when you do end up finding it later, though). It's a fun trip, enjoy it. Try not to flip out about gear too much. I'm sure while you are planning your trip you will freak out a few times... once you are on the trail, stop doing that.
Cheers,
Dan (aka Soapbox)
Soapbox's gear review: pt 2
Use sites like Steep and Cheap if you can tell they post brands or gear you like. Also, this is a great gear reference: 10 lb Backpack. Feel free to ask questions. Try things on before you buy them. Go to a store and look before you make an online purchase!
Wearables (clothing):
In general you're going to probably be able to figure out what clothes to wear without consulting blogs, but here's my data for the sake of completion. I hope someone finds it useful.
Shirt - Columbia Silver Ridge
It’s a shirt. Whatever. Oh - it cleaned up well in the wash. You’ll want to wear something. Or maybe you are a nudist? Me? I prefer a “Tradewinds Grey” color to protect from the sun and harsh elements on the PCT.
Bottoms - "I can't begin to care.” - Pedi.
I wore these stupid heavy canvas pants I bought for $2 at a thrift shop until I stopped worrying about getting sunburned behind my knees then I tied the pants to the bottom of my pack and forgot about them. Seriously… I left these things tied to my pack for 200 miles or so until I threw them away in Bishop, CA when I was doing a shakedown. I wore some elastic Prana shorts I found on Steep and Cheap the rest of the way. Sometimes I wore compression shorts or running tights.
Compression shorts - Nike something.
Personal decisions are hard.
Underwear - Ex Officio / Give-n-go boxer brief
"BEST. UNDERWEAR. EVER.” - Pedi
I really can’t improve upon Jonathan’s review. I hope to own these boxers for a long time and I intend on taking them all over the world. And damnit, for $20 they better last forever.
Extra shirt - Stoic / Breathe Composite (pretty light?)
Warm long sleeve. Especially nice to have in the Sierra otherwise useful as a pillow or sleep shirt (protect your sleeping bag/quilt from getting dirty). Personally? I don’t use sleep clothes and I ended up getting rid of this after the halfway point. Probably could have gotten by without it the whole way.
Sleep pants - I had running tights but definitely did not sleep in them more than a few times. I am a warm sleeper.
Socks - Stoic Synth / Trail Crew Sock
I used Injinjis and Stoics almost exclusively. Stoics were the best; I went through six pairs or so the entire trail and still have a few of them. Injinjis were nice early on to help prevent blisters, but they wore out within 100 miles and were a pain in the ass to get my weird toes into. I only picked these because I found them on Steep and Cheap for a great price.
Interesting side note - Injinjis make great sun gloves if you cut holes in the toes once you wear them out as socks. I started the trend and Pedi picked up on it pretty fast. You’re going to want to wash them before you put them on your hands…
Shoes - Solomon / Sense Mantra (16 oz) AND Brooks / Cascadia (13 oz)
I had very few foot problems the entire trail. I went through 3 pairs of shoes, but only two different models. In general, I think shoe choice is very personal and you'll know what is right when you try them on.
Brooks Cascadia: Join the Brooks Club! If the PCT had a fork in it, we'd search for Cascadia shoe prints. It was usually the right way. A very popular shoe for a good reason. I hiked 1300+ miles with one pair. 10mm heel-to-toe drop
Solomon Sense Mantra: Really loved this trail runner while I was in the desert. I was able to get 800+ miles out of them. I trained in them then wore them to Kennedy Meadows, CA. Solomon has a great manufacturer guaranty as well. I think if you are hiking with under 25 lb, this is plenty of shoe and it's light, dries very fast, and is pretty durable. Note: the synch shoestring never broke, someone told me it definitely would. It did not. Also, I think this is a 6mm drop shoe.
Gaiters - I’d wear 'em if the whole trail was in the snow, but otherwise they make taking my shoes off too much work.
Jacket - Mountain Hardwear / Ghost Whisperer (7oz)
Expensive, but worthwhile, I think. This lasted the entire trek and I washed it with Nikwax and it’s like-new (minus the hole and lack of branding/logos). The material is very delicate. Wear something over it if you are being active, I climbed a tree and the bark caught and ripped a hole instantly. No bueno. That said, all down is an investment. It lasts if you treat it well.
Rain Jacket - Outdoor Research / Proverb (13oz)
Another Steep and Cheap find. Great value when found on sale. Certainly not the best jacket on the market, but it served its purpose.
For "next time": Jonathan said in his review, consider: Outdoor Research / Helium 2. I'm also researching some Marmot-made options like the Mica and the Essence. Check out Snarky Nomad's reviews.
Rain pants - Mountain Hardwear / Alkane Pant (9oz)
Great pants. They saw heavy use in WA when we were in the rain for days on end. Also great for in the Sierra. Not sure if they are essential, but it was nice to have them, particularly in the multiple day long downpours.
Warm hat - Some outdoorsy hat, you need a hat. It's just a hat. There are many like it.
Gloves - Nope.
I thought about buying gloves every time I went into an REI or outfitter… But I never bought them. I would have worn them in WA if I had them. In the desert and in the Sierra I would cover my hands with a bandana, cut up injinjis, cut up sleeves from a cotton shirt. Whatever. HYOH.
Sunglasses - Solar Shields
Solar shields. Solar shields. solar shields. They may get worn out, scratched, or lost, but never stolen. Don’t get attached to your shades because you’re going to lose them at some point. Or break them. Probably both.
Happy hiking,
Dan
Soapbox's gear review: pt 1
I’m a gear head, and I can obsess about gear, but by the third day of the Pacific Crest Trail I was exhausted with all the gear talk. It’s one of the most popular topics on the trail. It’s great to learn the ins and outs of the materials, the weight, the costs. Learn to compromise size, durability, and comfort for weight, speed, and simplicity. Many PCT hikers spend tons time researching every single thing they choose to carry (certainly not all of them). Naturally, people tend to have opinions about what to bring. These discussions were not always constructive and after awhile I kind of toned gear talk out.
Either way, I hiked the PCT and lived out of a backpack for five months and these are the things I took and what I thought of them.
Jonathan, three days from the Canadian border, was still giving me grief about carrying a harmonica I hardly played. I was not a UL master. No one is perfect.
The Big Three and essentials:
Pack - The Osprey Exos 58 (2 lb 6 oz for a medium pack with brain. 2 lb 2 oz without the brain)
Loved my pack. I loved the suspension system and that aluminum frame. I loved how easily my kit fit into it. I loved that I could put things I wanted in the hip belt pockets, shoulder strap pockets, back pouch or in the brain. Many ultralight backpackers tend to go for more minimalist packs, but I liked having the extra support for the long stretches and first few days out of town when my pack would be loaded to 40 lb or more. The Exos fit a Bear Vault bear canister with ease, and I often had extra room in the pack.
To shave weight you can elect to cut extra straps, remove the brain (which is adjustable, detachable and works as a fanny pack or something like that), or get a smaller size. I saw people using an Exos 48 and even the 38, the compromise is a dedication to minimalism. Also, Osprey is an extremely hiker-friendly company and will honor a lifetime warranty on their gear.
For "Next time": Saw a ton of ULA / Circuit (2lb 6oz), the most popular pack on trail. Our friend, Mongo had a completely stripped down Z-packs pack (this was literally a bag with straps).
Sleeping bag < QUILT!!! - Enlightened Equipment Revelation 20ºF (26 oz)
The specs: Revelation 750 fill goose down, 20ºF rating
Prior to the PCT I only used mummy bags, but now I am in love with Enlightened Equipment quilts. Great idea, functional, lightweight, great company. Within the first week of hiking the trail I knew I had made the right choice. The general idea is that you save on material because you don’t need down underneath you when you sleep - that just wastes down because down needs to loft in order to provide warmth. The quilt has fasteners or straps that keeps it tight around you on cold nights and you can sleep with it loosely covering you on warmer nights.
For "next time": Would have sprung for the 850 fill goose down to get an even lighter quilt, but 26oz for a 20ºF sleep system is a great deal. Plus you cant beat the manufacturer's prices considering the great quality of the product.
Sleeping pad - Thermarest / Prolite 4 (1lb 8oz)
Lighter options are out there. Smaller options are out there. This was one of the first things we each bought and we found it on Steep and Cheap so it was quite affordable. Bottom line: it’s durable, it’s warm, and it’s comfortable.
For "next time": Thermarest / Neo Air XLite, Were I to do the trail again, I'd get this in a Small and use some z-lite or my pack for my legs and feet. I thought about using my Thermarest Z-lite, but when I used it I noticed I had to be strategic about where I slept. If the ground was wet or soft or muddy or snowy my body heat would get sucked out of me. I pay attention to the "R value", which describes the thermal resistance of the pad (higher is better, but weight and size are directly related). A great table comparing sleeping pads makes picking easy.
Groundsheet - 2' x 7' sheet of Tyvek (4oz?)
I bought a single sheet for 9$ in Wrightwood. Split it with Jonathan, cut it in the hardware store. Bing, bang, boom. Done. Protect your tent and your sleeping pad.
Tent - REI Quarter Dome (2 lb 10oz)
This is another piece of gear where you can find lighter and cheaper options. The trade off: this tent is spacious and bomb-proof (not literally, but it's stable). The people I hiked with got tired of hearing me talk about how much I liked it. Easy to put up. Plenty of room for activities. Big vestibule for those gross nights where everything has to be stored under it. Complaints are mostly that, like with all ultralight gear, the material is delicate. If I were to hike again I would consider lighter shelters if I could find them at low enough prices. I bought my Quarter Dome on sale at REI so it was a great buy.
For "next time": For the right price I'd try out the Notch or go waaaay UL maybe with something like the Hexamid and buy a big piece of Tyvek to protect my pad.
Headlamp - Some old Black Diamond thing (?oz)
Bring a light. Make sure it's bright if you plan on night hiking.
Knife/multitool - Multitool (?oz)
I went most of the trail without a knife and I lost my spork in my backpack every day. I made it from border to border. Without a gun. Without a sword. I bought a comically tiny multitool in Bend because it had a bottle cap opener on it.
Power - Goal Zero / Nomad 7 and Guide 10 (13oz) and (6.4oz) respectively
The Nomad 7 is a solar panel. I used it for charging my phone and camera. It worked, but it may not be the best power solution.
For "next time": I'll buy a little auxiliary battery pack for my iPhone and make sure to charge that in towns. Solar panels work and work well sometimes. But not all of the time. And they aren't the most convenient thing to strap to your pack while you glisade (slide down snowy mountains) and stuff.
Trekking Poles - Black Diamond / Distance Z-Poles (13 oz)
I still don't know if I like hiking with trekking poles that much. I bet that as I get older I'll use them more. I've been camping and backpacking for a long time and I'm still not sure how I feel about some gear.
Bottom line: I'd say grab a set on sale and if you don't like them return them.
Stove - JetBoil / Flash (15 oz)
An incredibly fuel efficient water boiling device is what this thing is. You can kind of simmer, but you have to be careful. If you are going to cook full meals you may want to look at larger pots and a different stove. I like cooking on the trail quite a bit. Bottom line: I'd use this again, but if I found a cheaper/lighter stove + pot system I'd go for it.
For "next time": If I stick with canister stoves I would consider the gnat (1.6 oz) and a 4 - 5 oz pot or find a stove similarly minimal. Save money upfront and save weight. You wont beat the Jetboil for fuel economy.
Stuff sacks
There are tons of options. I mostly used gallon/quart zip-locks. My food bag? Grocery bags or a trash bag. Lots of other hikers went for the roll top sacks. HYOH. End of the day - everything you carry should be in some kind of bag in a bag (in a bag… BAG-CEPTION).
More to come on gear because it's Gear Week 2! Don't worry, we have more cool pictures and stories, but these are questions a lot of people had about the trail and we wanted to share it.
Love,
Dan
The grand finale
Throughout the second half of my time on the PCT, I conducted a personal project to explore a novel way to document the trail. I took two portraits of each thru-hiker I passed. One tight facial portrait and one foot portrait. This I managed to do with 49 different hikers, and all with the minimal amount of lightweight gear in my pack.
Below you will find some highlights of the series. The full project can be viewed on my personal website. Special thanks to Soapbox and Ms. Frizzle, without whom this project would not exist.
Hiker Trash: noun: a term used to describe thru-hikers and all of their hairy, dirty, grunginess. They are typically characterized by their far-beyond disheveled appearance and god-awful smell. These are people that set out to complete a 2,663 mile hike along the Pacific Crest Trail, a long distance trail spanning California, Oregon and Washington. I consider them my friends and comrades. They put aside their daily lives in ‘the real world’ to spend about five months walking in the woods and experiencing life and nature. They attack a pile of food like no human you have ever seen, and they do it without remorse or shame. The nomadic community created by Hiker Trash is one of the most beautiful and ephemeral tribes a person can experience. For the five months I spent on the PCT, everyone I met treated me as one of their own. They were my tribe. I was their kin.
They embrace the constant and daily challenges presented by the grueling terrain, merciless pace, and mercurial weather. All in the name of making it from Mexico to Canada armed with nothing but sheer force of will and their own feet. It is with perseverance and grit that every thru-hiker is able to put one foot in front of the other. The pounding on a thru-hiker’s foot is constant and brutal. The cost of their dream is shown in their battered and bruised feet. Their indomitable spirit and fortitude is shown in their faces. These are their faces. These are their feet.
Cheers,
Jonathan
Trail life in Washington
Washington was a pretty crazy place. While our saga of being sick wasn't exactly the greatest, we had some phenomenal times walking through the final state of the PCT. As always, the people we hiked with were some of our favorite highlights. We had such great times on trail.
You eat that lunch Butters. You eat it good.
Smitty traversing a snowfield in Goat Rocks.
Dan decided to hang up his tent to let it dry while he ate breakfast. Who does that?
Butters at the hotel in Snoqualmie.
Dan (with Winston) Hiking out of Snoqualmie Pass.
Butters at the Dinsmore's Hiker Haven in Skykomish.
traversing the "impassable" trail with Trip, Mongo and co.
Impassable? Ya, we don't think so. Trip, Dan, Mongo and Frizzle.
Loved the way the light hit this bridge.
DANG, this bridge is hella messed up.
Dan was a cat on the monument at the Canadian border.
Border to border, baby.
Dan had to pull the harmonica out and play a quick song for Canada.
Cheers,
Jonathan
Winston!
When I was struck down by sickness in Washington I made it to a clinic in North Bend. Just as in Castaway when Tom Hanks creates a companion, Wilson, made of a Wilson volleyball with a hand-print face, I created Winston from an inflated nitrile glove (courtesy of the clinic in North Bend) with sunglasses and a hat. He was my anchor. He was my inspiration. He was with Jonathan and I through the good and bad, the ups and the downs, and most importantly he weighed very little. His downfall was a tragedy, but he survived long enough to see me through my ailment. In case you're wondering, he lasted a little more than an entire afternoon and he popped on a bush.
Sometimes living in the woods makes you a little crazy (sometimes living around people makes you crazy, too). I'm not admitting to talking to this little inflated glove with a face drawn on it. What I'm saying is that while we hiked the PCT the journey wore at us in strange ways we had not expected. We looked for ways to blow off the steam and relax. This was one of them. Maybe we'll tell the story about giving our packs to a stranger so our hiking group could run a section of trail sometime.
Cheers,
Dan
I caught Jonathan sharing dinner with Winston on the last night he was with us. What a view.
I handed off Winston before I ran off-trail to answer nature's call on the second and last day Winston hiked with us. He wasn't with us nearly long enough.
Note he is resting on an evergreen bush. Likely this was his downfall. Ever the risk-taker.
The last portrait of Winston. What a fun little dude.