Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Another amazing 24 hours in Tahoe
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Tahoe with Lindsay!
We had some awesome highlights in this section, including learning how to bear bag (since I sent back the bear canister, but there are definitely still bears), swimming in amazing lakes in Desolation Wilderness, and handling some very ballsy chipmunks (we slowly escalated our defenses - turns out they aren't even afraid of Lindsay's trekking pole). Lindsay, despite having summited Mt. Kilimanjaro, is pretty much a newbie to backpacking, but she took to it like a fish to water. Or like a chipmunk to a trekking pole. For example, she noted that I don't wear deodorant out here and clean my cooking pot with my fingers. Without any judgment, she inquired as to whether we'd be brushing our teeth this week or not. She was fully prepared for the answer to be no. (For the record - oral hygiene is one frontcountry habit I maintain. I even floss sometimes!). Linds also developed a quick comfort with the water filter and actually mused outloud if it would be effective at purifying the water from the Schuylkill. The answer is no, Lindsay. Nothing can purify that water.
I didn't want to do huge miles in this section, as the first few days are tough on everyone. I figured we'd start with a 10 mile day and then build up to 12 miles per day for the remainder of the week. Lindsay, however, had other plans. We did the first ten mile day as anticipated ... and then immediately followed it with a SEVENTEEN mile day!! As it turns out, Lindsay just needs to suck down a gu packet and then she's ready for anything. I was clambering behind her all week!!
Lindsay and I developed some solid routines this week: hot breakfast, lunch somewhere with a view (today it was sitting under the chair lifts at Squaw - one of two ski resorts the trail took us through today), a bunch of afternoon miles, and then in the tent before 8. Only once did we stay out of our tent long enough to see the sunset (and it was epic). I think our favorite time of day is getting cozy in our sleeping bags. Lindsay is borrowing my formerly-first-string bag, which got demoted this trip because it was about 10 oz too heavy (I got kind of obsessed with counting ounces there for a while). I love getting in the tent though, seeing the sleeping bag is like seeing an old friend. I hope I haven't hurt its feelings. Speaking of old friends, Lindsay also saw an old friend tonight. In late spring, as everyone was packing up their Philly apartments, I put out a call for any frozen foods that I could dehydrate and bring on the trail (as they otherwise would have been thrown away). Imagine Lindsay's surprise today to discover her old Trader Joe's frozen Asian vegetable blend, dehydrated and perking up our ramen tonight!
This section ends at Donner Pass, made famous by the Donner Party of 1846. They were a covered wagon train that got stuck in the Sierra by early season snow, ran out of food, and ultimately resorted to cannibalism. I told my Dad, who is nicely picking Lindsay and me up at Donner Pass tomorrow, that if he's late and we're hungry, there's no telling what might happen. I just read a book about the Donner Party (trying to get into the mood), and it was grisly. Next up: The Goldfinch. Hopefully a bit more upbeat (most anything is more upbeat than cannibalism).
On that note.... Until the next stop!
Captions:
1. New insoles in Tahoe! I think it was time.
2. Two gals on the trail.
3. Our first bear hang. Success!
4. Desolation Wilderness was awesome!
5. Awesome Sunset - and only one we saw.
6. Twin Peaks - Tahoe National Forest style.
7. Going under the lifts at Squaw!
8. Linds is reunited with her Asian vegetable blend.
9. View from the tent on the last day!
Guest blog entry from Landform
My brother Matthew joined me for a huge section of the trail (basically all of the High Sierra). Having a brother who is a teacher and has summers off is the best!! Below is his account. Though he neglected to mention how awesome it is to hike with someone whose sense of direction is as keen as mine.
So I got to hike about 250 miles over 3+ weeks in the Sierra Nevada mountains this summer. I did all 210 of the John Muir Trail and then some. I got to the summits of Mount Whitney and Half Dome. I went over more passes than I have toes and defended my blood supply against marauding waves of mosquitoes. It was amazing times with amazing people and I loved pretty much every second of it. Being out in the wilderness for days at a time takes your mind back to simpler things.
The cast of characters (with trail names) was as follows: my sister Jen ("Cache Money" because she carried so much water in the desert that she was like her own water cache), her boyfriend Justin ("Lance-a-Lot" because he had a penchant for lancing blisters (if you haven't seen The Blister, read about it earlier in this blog)), and my girlfriend Alicia ("Appletini" - no real reason, it just works). They called me Landform because I couldn't seem to shut up about which valley or drainage or plateau we were in at the moment or what that mountain is called or how much elevation we had gained that day or where the next outflow is...ok, I'll zip it. What can I say, I really enjoy maps.
My daily routine evolved into something like this something like this:
- Wake up before sun in some moderate pain from the previous day's hiking. .
- Coffee makes pain go away. Begin battling mosquitoes.
- Poop? Hope mosquitoes don't find me.
- Walk 2 or 3 miles or until I got grouchy from hunger.
- Eat instant oatmeal (or preferably grits) from the packet.
- Walk 4 or 5 more miles, start thinking about lakes for lunch (not to eat).
- Lake! Find flat rock to chill on. Remove shoes/socks and prop feet onto backpack.
- Lunch: wraps. Pretty much always wraps.
- Fend off sister who already wants to get back on the trail.
- Relaaaaax.
- Jump into lake. It's probably cold but it feels so good.
- Dry out in sun.
- Relax more.
- Continue walking 3-4 more miles listening to music (July 4 was Aaron Copland day) or a podcast (BS Report or Savage Lovecast).
- Copious goos and Clif Bars.
- Afternoon hands and face - find a stream and get the dust off.
- Walk final miles. Get excited for camp. We would do 10-15 miles per day.
- Take off shoes by another river or a lake. Maybe go swimming again.
- Eat some food that tastes amazing on the trail. Cache Money dehydrated the crap out of a bunch of veggies and they made things taste good.
- End of day beverage: whiskey-hot chocolate
- Sleep outside under stars if there is flat granite. Or get into tent.
- Read for approximately 1.5 minutes, then fall into a very deep sleep.
- Have weird and exciting dreams and then do it again.
Here are some true things I took away from the trail
First, it's gotta be in there somewhere. I despise losing things. The great thing about thru-hiking is that as long as you don't leave something on a rock (more on what happens when you do leave something on a rock later), then you have it with you. There's no car to leave it in. You didn't leave it at work. It's in your pack and that's that. It's a great feeling.
Next, all trails lead to somewhere. I'm all in favor of getting off of the beaten path, but along the JMT, the beaten path goes pretty much everywhere you need. The trail itself has the most footprints. And branches off of the trail have all been up-voted to match their utility. A well trod side path leads to somewhere useful (water! overlook! camp site!). A more modest path usually leads to something less useful (trickle of water, less good camp site). No path tends to leads nowhere (tangled bramble, dry creek bed).
Next, the permit situation was a little bleak for a second there when we didn't win the Whitney Portal lottery. But a little digging around turned up the fact that one can enter at Horseshoe Meadows (20 miles south of Whitney) with no fees and no quotas. And once you have a permit to get into the wilderness you can pretty go wherever you like. So to summarize: I showed up at the Lone Pine permit office one day and spent $0 on my permit and then spent 20+ days walking to Yosemite. And it was totally legit. In fact, the ranger at the bottom of Half Dome even said he would have accepted that permit to go to the top of that thing. America!
Last, GPS is some crazy shit. I sorta fell in love with Half-Mile's PCT app. This thing locates you relative to the PCT (right now in Berkeley I am 136 miles southwest of PCT mile 1102) and then tells you how far ahead all things are both in distance and in elevation. For example, from PCT mile 1102 I would be 1.8 miles, 54 feet of climbing and 394 feet descending to the outlet of Susie Lake in Desolation Wilderness. At that point I am also 1,158 miles from the end of the PCT. They call me Landform.
That's all for now. But if Jen lets me I want to post another one going over the most interesting/nice/ridiculous people we met out there.
Signing Off,
Landform
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Guest blog from Mom!
Here it is, in her words:
My job in our family is to be the worrier! Nobody else does it nearly as well as I do. Actually, there is little competition. I'm not sure anyone else worries at all. So when Jenny announced last fall that she wanted to hike the PCT, I was the one to go into immediate action. Seriously, she had to be kidding! My cousins had hiked this Trail many years ago and the articles they sent back to their local newspaper read like something from Jon Krakauer's "Into Thin Air." I had also unfortunately read Cheryl Strayed's "Wild" before ever dreaming that my daughter would want to undertake this same challenge. Reading about near emergencies in every chapter left me breathless when I thought about all that could possibly happen to Jenny.
However, I knew there would be no changing Jenny's already made-up mind about this goal of 1700 miles. While I totally trust that she is a smart, organized, extremely capable young woman who shows good judgement and clear thinking, I could also imagine all kinds of things that might potentially go wrong. Jenny was originally planning to make this trip alone and began reading, making lists, dehydrating food, and buying equipment. I confess, "alone" made me crazy. So I made it my job to suggest all kinds of hiking companions. I was thrilled when her brother, Matthew, said he'd be excited to join her for a section of the Trail. And then, it got even better. She asked her boyfriend, Justin, to go with her and he too was in! Since then, several other friends have also jumped in for a week here & there. The result is that I've felt much better about it since two or three seem so much safer than one. Jenny did just finish a one-week solo section (she HAD to do it!) and even she admits that it's more fun to have a hiking companion. Thus, I think we're both equally as happy that Justin plans to continue hiking with her to the end. Thank you, Justin!!
There's one other major thing that has contributed greatly to my peace-of-mind -- the nightly SPOT email. Jenny was able to program 10 addresses into some satellite gizmo which sends us her exact longitude & latitude coordinates. Nothing makes me sleep better than getting a SPOT! There's only been two nights with missing SPOTS since June 5th when Jenny & Justin started walking across the Mojave Desert and into the Sierra Mountains. While I rationally know that sometimes the topography doesn't lend itself to a successful SPOT message, that's all it takes for me to lapse back into my worrying state. I'll be glad when this adventure is over, but I'm also extremely proud of Jenny's spirit and spunk and determination. She is amazing!
My husband, Dave, & I are now in Tahoe, staying at our oldest son Tim's home. As soon as I heard Jenny's plans to do this hike, I knew I had to lay my eyes on her at some point. We picked her up on Sunday after 640 miles of backpacking and, I have to admit, I'm impressed. She looks great, doesn't have major back or knee problems, seems healthy, has met many interesting & amazing people, and, aside from the early horrendous award-winning blister, generally has had a fabulous time. Her pictures and stories are wonderful. I find that I'm even a bit envious! And although she's enjoying Tim's hot tub immensely right now, I can tell she is eager to get back on the Trail again. So I will hug her good-bye, tell her I love her, and wish her "Happy & Healthy Trails" until she reaches her 1700 mile goal at the Oregon-Washington border! And then, ever so slowly, I will finally start to breathe again!
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
I said something very bad in my last big blog post. I
wrote: "California's extreme drought is perversely our good fortune -
there's virtually no snow on any of the passes." That was a mistake to
put in print. Unsurprisingly, the karma gods of California
precipitation had some feelings on my declaration and they let those be
known by filling up the last section with thunderstorms. And hail
storms. And thunderstorms with hail. And lots of rain. I'm sorry,
wise gods of California precipitation! I won't ever say something like
that again!
I've hiked 186 miles since leaving Mammoth. Thirty-six of those miles were with Matthew, and then the remaining 150 miles were on my own. I originally conceived of this trip as a solo-trip and so was very eager to get out on the trail by myself: to test myself, to have time for quiet reflection, and to see exactly how much ramen I can eat unassisted. Results: mixed.
Matthew and I had a great last few days together between Mammoth and Tuolomne (Tuolumne is the developed campground on Yosemite's east side). We briefly switched roles, and I became the "thru-hanger," wanting to sleep in, drink a tall boy before hitting the trail, and take lengthy swim/nap breaks. Fortunately, Matthew kept me in check. During these few days, we saw a family that, rather than carry their gear on their backs, had rented a pack of llamas to carry everything for them! We thought it was cool at first, but then as we watched them forgo communication with each other because they were so consumed with steering the llamas, it looked less appealing. On our last day together, we got up early and cranked out 10 speedy miles in the hopes that we'd catch the World Cup final in Tuolumne. Alas, a rockslide had knocked out all cell/tv/anything communication in Tuolumne, so it would be another 8 days before I learned the result.
In Tuolumne, the nice folks at the store got my mail for me, even though it was a Sunday and the Post Office was definitely closed. I had a boring resupply I'd sent myself (surprise, surprise: instant mashed potatoes) .... and TWO CARE PACKAGES!!! My amazing Wharton Leadership Ventures co-leaders, Kush, Maddy, and Edward, had made me unbelievable cookies (orange rind, walnuts, and craisins!). And then Ginny and Emily (who I also know through the Wharton Leadership Ventures program!) sent me a package with all kinds of odds and ends that they know thru-hikers need - including, most amazingly - Q-Tips! I'm so lucky to have such amazing friends! Thank you!!
I sorted through all of my resupply stuff on this picnic table outside of the store/Post Office. And in doing so, I became a minor celebrity. There were a ton of day/weekend hikers around, and as everyone learned that I was hiking the PCT, they had questions! When I used to teach in New York, I would ride the 14D bus to school. Inevitably, the bus would be 95% total strangers, 5% my students, who would all screech "Missssssss Aaaaaalbinson!!!!" as I boarded. Everyone else on the bus would look at me with awe in their eyes: I was known on the 14D. Anyway, the celebrity kind of felt the same in Tuolune: totally undeserved attention, when I was just trying to sort out my trail mix.
Once everything was all packed up in my bear canister, there was nothing left to do but say goodbye to Matthew (who was going to hike into Yosemite Valley and then head home) and walk off by myself. Unfortunately, I couldn't exactly walk off at the speed I wanted to because my pack was so ... damn ... heavy. For the first time, I was carrying all of the gear by myself, not sharing it with Matthew or Justin. I also wasn't sure how fast I'd be able to hike the 150 miles to Tahoe, so I was carrying enough food for 9 (9!!) days. Allow me to tell you, that is a lot of food. So I walked off very, very slowly. Under the weight of my pack, I could feel the blisters on my feet starting to act up again. My hips ached where the bear canister, filled to the brim with food, was resting. I walked for a few miles, and then saw a sandy beach alongside a stream. Near tears, I turned off: if I could just take my pack off for a few minutes, I was sure I would be OK. I looked toward the stream, and standing there in the meadow on the other side, perfectly lit by the sun, were two deer, one with a majestic set of antlers. The PCT giveth, the PCT taketh away. Everything was going to work out.
I got up early the next day, eager to put in a bunch of miles and get closer to Tahoe. Around 1 PM though, I heard a sound I hadn't yet heard in my 5 weeks on the trail: THUNDER. I was on top of a ridge and eager to get down to the valley floor, two miles ahead. I scurried down and was greeted in the valley by a Boy Scout troop. I ate crackers and jelly by the side of a creek for the bit, and waited for the storm to make its move. One of the Boy Scouts, a high school senior, bravely approached me and offered for me to stay with them that night if the storm worsened. But I too am always prepared: had my poncho ready to go! I moved on. I got half-way up the next pass before the storm rolled overhead and I had to set up camp. I pitched my tent near to two retired folks. I never spoke to them, but being near to people - even as the thunder cracked - gave me tremendous psychological comfort. I also ate all of Maddy's cookies out of thunder anxiety.
This storm - which I had hoped was a freak occurrence (the Sierras are known for perfect blue skies in the summer) - set the pattern for the next 6 days. Wake up to sunshine and blue skies, but then sometime around noon, notice extremely ominous clouds at the edge of the sky. Later that afternoon, get treated to lightening, thunder, hail, and/or pouring rain. After a few days of this, I adjusted my hiking schedule, waking up at 5:30 AM so I could crank through as many miles as possible before the inevitable storm hit. I had to schedule a long morning break to dry out my tent and sleeping bag, which were ever-wet from the previous night. I also had to be much more attentive to my maps, particularly focusing on "exposed areas," e.g., sections of the trail that go above the tree line, as not to get caught in those when an electrical storm hit. With my trekking poles in hand and tent poles sticking out of the top of my bag, I was literally a lightening magnet. It was pretty scary to have to make these daily decisions on my own.
There were some funny moments in the rain. Once, it was pouring and I was wearing my awesome poncho. I walked by a guy who said "damn, you're prepared." When I looked more closely at him, he was not in fact wearing a poncho, but rather wrapped in the rain fly of his tent. I hope he made it out OK. Another time, it was clear that a big storm was right overhead. I was hunkering down under some trees, assuming the lightening position that Rick Curtis taught me, when a Yosemite ranger approached. I figured he was going to offer me some tips on electrical storm preparedness or perhaps the weather forecast. Instead, he wanted to make sure I was carrying my food in the required bear canister (Yosemite rangers are very fixated on that regulation). It started to hail about 2 minutes later. But thank goodness my food was properly stored. Still another time, I heard a storm moving quickly toward me. I threw on my poncho, water-proofed my pack (aka applied the trash bag), put on a This American Life podcast, and prepared to wait it out. After a while, I realized that I was hearing only the dulcet tones of Ira Glass and no thunder. Turns out, the storm had moved off, but I was so compelled by the episode that I hadn't realized it was time to hike again.
It was a tough week. I pulled the most
mileage I have yet, averaging 22 miles/day. There was a thunderstorm
every day. I wasn't sleeping well, as I was alone and convinced that
every ripple of wind was in fact a bear. But it was also an important
week. I emerged from it feeling more confident in my outdoor skills,
and more importantly, my emotional resilience. I hit some lows, but
also some incredible highs. At the peak of a mountain (that was truly
named "The Nipple"), I found myself as happy as I've been on the trail.
I'd made it to the top without getting struck by lightening, despite
the cracks that were coming down on the next mountain. A great song
came on my iPod. I got this unexpected and incredible view of two
lakes. I literally threw back my head in joy, and then skipped down the
mountain. (You would have thought I was high, but I can assure you that
I was not: the jar at Highway 4 labeled "free joints for thru hikers,
take only 1 please" - like a bowl of Halloween candy left on a suburban
doorstep - was definitively cleaned out when I passed by a few hours
earlier.) In short, things are going great.
And now for the hodge-podge section:
-I highly recommend the book "Beyond the Beautiful Forevers," by Katherine Boo.
-Timmy C. is joining me on the trail in August!!! YES!!
-Get excited: Mom and Matthew and each going to write a guest blog about their own PCT experiences!
-I
listened to a podcast where Maya Angelou described her method for
forgiving a person who has wronged her. She "breaks the word apart and
flips the order," so rather than forgive, she "gives for" - she does a
kind act or makes a donation in the name of the person. And then she
lets it go. Pretty awesome.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Trail love!!
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Bishop to Mammoth
I'm currently 7 days and 103 miles from my last shower. Two more days until Mammoth (when this will post!) where I want to have the following: kale salad, Internet, shower, mango salsa, and new shoes. I think Mammoth is going to make my dreams come true.
This has been a very tough section! We are getting through the Sierra Nevada mountain range and almost every day includes a high mountain pass of some sort. Since the Bishop resupply, we've gone through Kearsarge, Glen, Mather, Muir, Selden, and Silver passes, each standing tall at 11,000+ feet. This means that a typical day includes a climb of 3,000-4,000 feet, the glory of standing on top of a pass and seeing into a beautiful valley on each side, then a bone crushing descent down the same distance onto the valley floor, which is likely a temporary mosquito hell (I'm talking 100% deet, long sleeves and pants, and headnet kind of hell). It's absolutely terrible, except that it's also gorgeous, exhilarating, and a ton of fun. Also, California's extreme drought is perversely our good fortune - there's virtually no snow on any of the passes. I can't imagine doing this while also worrying about finding the trail in the snow and avoiding post-holing (on the flip side though, I don't get to glissade....).
This section started with Matthew, me, Justin, and Justin's friend Pat. Pat is a major trooper. Going from sea level and normal amounts of exercise to 15 mile days with a 12,000 foot pass embedded in each is not for the faint of heart. Even though his knee was really bothering him, he got a wicked sunburn, and this trip generally seemed to be a bit more than he'd anticipated, Pat did an amazing job of doing what Teach For America calls "focus on your locus," e.g. spending your energy on the things that you can control and change. In Pat's case, this meant wearing bandanas on his hands to stop the sunburn, trying a variety of different walking styles to handle the knee, and best of all, maintaining an incredibly positive and upbeat attitude. I was muy impressed. Pat and Justin had to leave about 4 days into this section so Pat could get back to NY: they turned off at Bishop Pass. And then it was just Matthew and me.
Matthew is many things: fantastic older brother, great travel companion, excellent Settlers of Catan strategist. But thru-hiker he is not. As he describes it, he's more of a "thru-hanger." Thru hikers generally get up early, get in as many miles as possible, then find a place to throw down their sleeping bag and quickly consume some ramen before getting up and doing it again. Matthew, on the other hand, has the following daily priorities: two steaming cups of morning coffee, a great lunch spot preferably with a lake he can swim in, and the perfect campsite in the evening, complete with sunset views and a fire ring. And if we can squeeze in some miles between those important events, well that's an unexpected surprise. Ok ok, that's an exaggeration. Matthew's been awesome to have in the Sierra - the days are really tough and he's helped me to slow down, enjoy the amazingness, and has indeed found some gems of campsites along the way (google image search "Evolution Lake"). I'm so glad you're here, Matthew.
In this section, we've celebrated the glory of America not only by taking a million pictures of soaring mountains and profound valleys. We've also celebrated her in music, cuisine, and conversation! July 4th was a few days ago and, spending it in the High Sierra, we felt pretty darn lucky to live in such a beautiful country (though Katy, it wasn't nearly as good as the 60% July 4th of last year!). Matthew found some Aaron Copeland on his iPod, and we rocked out to that while admiring a crystal blue lake near Mather Pass. We also made "thanksgiving dinner," in honor of America: instant mashed potatoes and instant stuffing. America: heck yes!
Speaking of food, we haven't had any of my dehydrated fruits or veggies on this section, since we did the full resupply at a grocery store (no mailed boxes). And dang are they missed. I bought one super expensive pouch of dehydrated veggies at a wilderness outfitter in Bishop just to try them, and yuck! So I have a business idea if McKinsey doesn't work out: Jen's Dehydrated Vegetables. I'll market first to thru hikers and then grow from there. Before you know it, I'll be bigger than Mountain House. My specialty will be Latin blend: corn, tomatoes, scallions, and jalapeños. OMG, I can add mango too and it will be like the mango salsa I'm craving right now!! This idea is too good to fail!!
Also speaking of food (I spend a lot of time thinking about food), I've become a forager! Wild onions grow near some creeks and taste amazeballs with just about anything (instant humus, ramen, Mac and cheese ... You name it, it's awesome). My free spirit credibility is growing by the minute.
**huge update** we got to Mammoth early and I had a quesadilla with mango salsa for dinner!!! I'm now writing from the comfort of my own full size bed. I'm so happy.
Here are some other interesting things in no particular order:
-did you know there is an opera about john muir and teddy Roosevelt? Us neither, but we met another hiker who told us.
-Blue raspberry jolly ranchers are the best
-My amazing men's camouflage pattern crocs that I found in a hiker box sadly got taken by the San Joaquin River, in an ill-fated attempt to find a hot springs. RIP camp shoes. Matthew says they are going to end up on a farm in Modesto.
-When enough Mosquitos swarm you, you actually have an adrenaline/stress response that I would say is a similar level to a car dangerously cutting you off, or perhaps that recurring nightmare where you find out you have an exam you haven't studied for. Someone should study this.
-It actually rained for about 20 minutes!! First precipitation of the trip!
Heading to bed in Mammoth. Tomorrow: post office, new shoes, resupply food, and hopefully some hot tub if there's time. I am a happy camper.
Captions:
1. America, heck yeah! (On July 4th!)
2. Thanks PCTA for the awesome trail maintenance.
3. Justin gave me flowers!!
4. Trail livin'
5. So water access isn't really a problem in this section...
6. Deer took our campsite!
7. Dr. Lance-a-lot stitches up Pat's blisters. Also, in the bottom right corner, a final shot of my camp shoes.
8. Again, amazing trail maintenance!
9. Thanksgiving dinner!
10. Wild onions! I'm such a free spirit.
11. Mosquito nightmare.
12. Thru hiker still life: ramen, lightweight tent, fire to clear Mosquitos, bear canister (thanks, Barrel Roll!!)
13. Heeeeey Marmot.
14. Awesome Wildflowers.
15. In Mammoth and I want to order everything on the menu, thank you.
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