Packing for a New Pack

This is pretty much it. This is my summer gear. The stuff I pack into my home away from home and with any luck, carries me from Cooper Gap to the NOC this year. I can hardly believe that this little bit of gear is everything I need to live in the woods for several days at a time. (Oh, I’ve worked hard to get it down to that fairly lightweight, little bit, mind you.)

Packing a little early for summer, am I? I wish! Actually, taking it to the outfitter to hopefully get rid of my nearly 6-pound backpack and finally find something lighter that fits right and carries well. I settled on a Gregory Z65, which is actually a men’s pack. I’ve tried on all the women’s packs, none fit right except my hulking Deva 60.

I went down there with all my gear to stuff it in the new women’s J63, but it didn’t fit right. The Z65 is the men’s version of the same pack, and whattaya know? Fits good! Mine should be here in about a week!

The guy at the outfitter asked me if I wanted black or red. Now, when I say red, I mean candy-apple fire engine red. And of course, I said, “I’ll take that in ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up so now you SEE me, red!”

Not only can I wait to see how my stuff packs up and feels in the new pack, I can’t wait to take it out either. I’m eyeballing the weekend of March 8… Wonder if Mother Nature will cooperate.

From left to right (sort of): Red dry bag with electronics and personal items like comb, toothbrush, etc.; tent poles; Gatorade bottle for carrying drinking water; pack cover; tent; air pillow; water filter; pot with stove and bear bag stuff inside; camp flops; pepper spray; camera and GPS; emergency Tyvek pants; rain jacket; headlamp pocket knife and Blistex; TP kit; green dry bag with clothes; orange dry bag with food; pink dry bag with sleeping bag.

 

Winter Backpacking Isn't Just Cold--It's Actually Pretty Cool!

In case you didn’t think I was crazy after all this, I went backpacking in January. Yep, in Ohio. Yep, in the snow. This is yet one more thing I never would have imagined doing, and yet one more thing I am so happy I did…

After missing out on a couple of the Cinci Meetup groups trips, I started poking around asking if anyone wanted to go with me. I soon got an email telling me I’d been made an event organizer. Huh. Okay, I can do that, right? Still feeling quite the noob, although I’ve learned a LOT in the past year, I worried that I didn’t know enough to be spearheading a backpacking outing… But what the heck.

I set up an overnight at Zaleski for January 18/19. As luck would have it the weather turned out pretty perfect for a winter trip: some snow on the ground, not too cold, a little sun, more snow during the night… And 5 other crazy people came along!

The biggest lesson learned on this trip: you can walk into the woods today with 5 strangers and walk out of the woods tomorrow with 5 new friends. The second biggest lesson learned: Yes, you do need a stupidly expensive down sleeping bag so you don’t freeze your ass off winter backpacking. And no, I don’t have one. Yet.

The hiking was beautiful, the scenery amazing—especially a detached perfect circle of ice on a creek that was spinning continuously in place in the current. More owls in the night, some coyotes howling, and the incredible sound of the snow pattering softly on the tent during the night. (There is something to be said for not sleeping while you’re sleeping in the woods at night: you hear and experience some pretty amazing things.) Much like in life in general, all of the good makes up for the little bit ‘o bad.

I’m already scouring my calendar for the next weekend I can load my pack and head back out into the woods. I can’t wait…

Hiking down the snowy trail:

This is my tent in the morning before I came out--new snow:

Scenery was awesome:



 

The group on the trail:



 

 

The group after the trail :)  :

 

Finding Friends in the Woods (Zaleski Take Two)

After our May and June backpacking adventures, I had a really hard time putting all our gear away. So I didn’t. While I kept looking for a weekend I could head out again, our gear “lived” in our living room, sprawled out yet loosely organized on the floor and the furniture. This was pretty helpful at the end of July when Navigator had to pack for Scout Camp!

I, however, just couldn’t find a good time to get back to Zaleski here in Ohio, despite trying. Work, dogs, home, kid stuff, Scout stuff… I finally eked out time for an overnight in August, packed up, headed out and maybe a mile in, dripping with sweat and overrun by mosquitoes and gnats, high-tailed it out of the woods and came home.

I still refused to put all my gear away. I left it all out in the living room until, finally, in September the weather and schedules cooperated and I was able to have a little adventure of my own.

I left home in time to hit the trail head at 8 a.m. Saturday. I was by myself, which was strange, yet the woods were quiet and welcoming. I hiked a fairly easy 5 or so miles to the camp Nav and I initially headed to back in May, took a lunch break, aired out my feet, and then headed around the north loop—another 7 miles. I found the north loop to be the most challenging part of Zaleski’s trail, and the most beautiful.

Coming back into camp where I’d had lunch, there were now tents everywhere. “Scouts?” I wondered. I found a small tent site on the outskirts of the camp area and as I set up my tent, realized there were several adults around the camp fire area. After my enjoyable yet solitary day of hiking, I headed over to say hello. Turns out the group was a backpacking Meetup from Cincinnati, some of whom are members of the Columbus group I had joined earlier in the year—which apparently never goes backpacking! I spent the entire evening hanging out with this new group of friends (I promptly joined their Meetup upon getting home!). What a great time!

This overnight was my first taste of what backpacking is really like: the solitary challenge of hiking all day alone, keeping yourself company, enjoying the beauty of the forest, hiking some 12 miles with 30 pounds on your back… and coming into camp to enjoy the camaraderie of like-minded folks.

Sunday, wanting to enjoy the early morning on the trail by myself, I quietly broke camp and hiked on. It was a pretty easy hike about 5 miles back to the trailhead, despite the blisters the north loop had given me the prior afternoon. Blisters and all, this was an amazing experience and the biggest lesson learned: I LOVE backpacking. My gear worked pretty well, my legs worked pretty well, I still can’t sleep well, but heard more owls!

 

 

 

A (Revised) Appalachian Adventure

On my way home from the hike that wouldn't happen, I called my son to let him know I was on the way back. What he said next was so shocking to me that I momentarily forgot the migraine pounding in my head with each turn of the wheels.

"Yay, now I can go with you!" he exclaimed.

What? The Scout who hated every step of his first backpacking trip earlier in spring? Wants to hike on the AT?

I'm adding this post way, way post, post script so I'll keep it short: Two weeks later we went on the BEST vacation we have ever had...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kaEMUf3VE3I&feature=youtu.be

(Bear with me while I figure out how to embed the video. Getting back to this blog after a serious hiatus.)

Springer has Sprung

I camped on top of Springer Mountain, Georgia. And with months of planning and preparation behind me and 9 days of hiking on the Appalachian Trail ahead of me, the wheels fell off the bus atop Springer Mountain…


At 3,780 feet, I camped—but I did not sleep. I popped my Big Agnes Fly Creek UL2, blew up my air mattress, crawled into my 23-degree down bag and listened to the wind, the airplanes approaching the Atlanta airport, drips from the earlier rain off the leaves, and at 3 a.m. a pair of barred owls. All while the headache that started before even reaching the mountain gradually got worse.


I was cozy and actually fairly comfortable: on my air mattress, in my bag, in my tent, under a pine tree, on the mountain. Not one bear poked its head in, not even to munch on my head, which was covered with the beanie hat I used as a coozie for my chicken dinner. As I lay awake, head throbbing, I imagined I must have smelled like a chicken and dumpling burrito…

And as I lay awake, I wondered what the hell I was going to do after a night of no sleep with what appeared to be a worsening migraine. How was I going to hike 10 or more miles Saturday? How was I going to function? I had a lot of ibuprofen in my pack. A lot. Vitamin-I, backpackers call it. But no amount of Vitamin-I would get rid of a migraine.


I listened to the wind in the trees on Springer Mountain and lamented about my head. Damn, damn head. Backpacking on no sleep with a migraine wasn’t the great adventure I had been planning. Should I commit to three days and call for a shuttle at Neels Gap if things got worse? Should I go back to town? Should I go home? Should I try to hike, and ruin my adventure as well as the other three women’s?


I knew what I had to do, I knew what the right thing was to do. And it wasn’t easy. I had to take my migraine off the mountain. Early in the morning some birds started to sing, and listening to them start their day gave me something to do while I waited to call our shuttlers, Joyce and Sally. At 7:15 I called, embarrassed, defeated, sad, head pounding. Joyce and Sally were great. Sally was soon running some hikers out to the trailhead and would pick me up. (She dropped off three nice looking backpackers. Figures.)


I broke the news to my new friends, broke up a pop tart and ate it, and broke camp—broken hearted. I started the mile hike back to the trailhead. “I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to cry…” I told my jackhammering head. I didn’t, really, just whimpered and cursed, maybe I shed a tear or two, cursed some more, and wiped my nose on my fleece. I heard a wood thrush and a pewee. The trail is beautiful really, and I took my time and enjoyed what little of it I was going to see. The woods were cool and moist, the flora lush and varied and interesting. The trail was smattered with rocks, but in a good way: a platform here, natural steps there. Should I go back? Should I stick it out? Having plenty of experience with migraine, although not much recently, I knew there was no way.


Something fluttered into a small sapling a foot in front of me. I stopped. He paused, watching me but not afraid. The little chestnut-sided warbler hopped along the branch, crossed the trail, hopped along another branch, then he flew. Now that’s got to be an omen for a birdnerd, I thought. Knowing I couldn’t stay for this adventure today and it couldn’t be an omen to turn back, I decided it was an invitation to come back. As I continued along, I began to think about what lessons I had learned in my short time on Springer Mountain and how I could soon use them to carry out my adventure:


1.      Do not drive all day by yourself and sleep on the ground that night.

2.      Do not drive all day, not drink enough water, and sleep on the ground that night.

3.      Do not drive all day, get to camp at dark, and expect to SLEEP at all at night.

4.      Do not attempt do items 1-3 before your prednisone has worn off.

5.      Do not get poison ivy from your son’s scout gear two weeks before your big backpacking trip so you don’t have to take prednisone.

6.      There is far less poison ivy on Springer Mountain than in Zaleski State Park (in Ohio).

7.      AT Shelter privies are generally much nicer than Scout Camp privies.

8.      Springer Mountain shelter and camp are much nicer than I expected.

9.      Packit Gourmet chicken and dumplins smell a lot better than they are.

10.  The privy is not a bad place to dump your Packit Gourmet chicken and dumplins.

11.  It really does take 1-1/2 hours to get to the trailhead from Hiawassee.

12.  Bear cables are great, easy to use, and you should use them.

13.  You can’t take a flash photo on top of a mountain at dark with the fog rolling in.

14.  Joyce and Sally rock, and 1-1/2 hours go by really fast with great conversation, even when your head is about to explode.

15.  People who come up to you on the Appalachian Trail and ask where the nearest restroom is will never stop seeming really stupid and making you laugh no matter how bad you feel.

16.  The trail will still be there when your head is fine.



I’m not gonna lie, my drive home sucked: head pounding, sun blazing… Like the knight storming the castle in Monty Python’s “The Holy Grail,” in each shot running but in in the next shot actually farther and farther away from the castle until, finally, he’s standing at the castle wall.


Just before I reached the castle, I called my son at his dad’s to let him know I’d be home. Originally, this was supposed to be our adventure, but then a conflicting Scout trip hit the calendar. Last week he told me he didn’t like backpacking. Yet, as I loaded my car the other day to head to Georgia, he said, “I want to go!” The first thing he said to me when I told him I was almost home: “Yay, now I can go with you!” I can’t wait to hear what he has to say. My one night on Springer Mountain, there was a mom at the shelter with her about 9 year old son. Saturday morning they excitedly headed north on the trail. I’m skeptically hopeful.


I spent the day in my castle, nursed my head, popped the tent to dry, and unloaded my pack onto the living room floor hoping my gear will be back in the pack soon and headed back to Hiawassee to set out on my adventure.


All I can think of to say in closing: To Be Continued.

Zaleski State Forest--Take One

Part of the reason for the start of “the whole backpacking thing” was an REI trip that never happened Memorial Day weekend. REI had botched things up, and we had spent a lot of effort both gearing up and educating ourselves, so we embarked upon our own backpacking overnight a bit closer to home.

We hit the trail at Zaleski State Forest Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend. The weather was actually perfect, cool and comfortable, but not cold, and not buggy! We started at the trail head and headed for Camp H. We hiked, and hiked, and hiked, and snacked, and hiked and hiked… We enjoyed the scenery and cool rock formations, but the more we hiked the less we realized we were farther from camp than we thought. Navigator grew impatient, understandably so, and took to complaining and stopping every couple hundred yards!  After a snack break in the middle of a portion of very overgrown trail, we turned back and decided to head for a different campsite.

And we hiked, and hiked, and hiked some more, learning perhaps the most important lesson in backpacking: You’ve never hiked as far as you think you have!

Finally reaching camp at just about dinner time, we met some nice folks and shared a campfire. Navigator slept great (which he never admits about camping), and I slept some between listening to the owls and a relentless (but still pretty cool) whip-poor-will.

Sunday we had oatmeal for breakfast, broke camp and headed back to the trailhead. It was a nice morning—I think I’ve quickly learned this is my favorite time of day to hike. It was cool, and quiet and the sun was out with lots of birds singing. We hiked on a ridge, then down along a lake. We stretched out on our sleeping pads for a PB&J lunch in the sun.

We learned a LOT on this short trip: you hike slower than you think with a load of stuff on your back; we packed too much stuff; freeze dried food sucks; Zaleski is really pretty but he trails have some very confusing markings; other backpackers are really nice folks… And the most important—bring the marshmallows next time because when you’re 10, it’s way more about the camping than the hiking!

 

 

Good Hair and a Great Hike

Today was a paradox for me: 2-1/2 hours at the salon getting my hair seriously chopped, followed by a 5-mile, pack-on training hike at Blendon Woods. The new hair worked fine, the pack worked well, the clothes worked well--and the jury is still (ugh!) out on the shoes. After 5 miles carrying 15 lbs. total pack weight, I wasn't tired and the rest of me was feeling just fine, but my feet were bugging me in my new Merrells. Dang. (My pack in June will be 26-30 lbs. including food and water. This is not a bad weight for a noob.)

So it turns out if you hike every trail in Blendon Woods it totals about 5 miles. That is, not including the paved trail to the pond--I was not going to hit that with my pack on. I looked goofy enough as it is!

What I would have liked to see on those trails was a little bit 'o green. It was still very much brown today. In one area, a little bit of spring beauty sprouts were just peeking above the leave litter. Maybe there is hope!

There have been some new developments with the AT trip in June this week. On WhiteBlaze.net I've been lucky to stumble upon three other folks hiking the same section in June and we're working on plans to meet up. Should be fun! It'll be unlikely the group will can stick together all the time, and that's not necessarily the spirit of a hike on the AT anyway, but it will be great to start together, make some new friends, and know there are people you know out there with you.

Well, thank you, Thomas Edison for your wisdom about failure not being failure at all: Tonight I found one way that doesn't work to make a freezer bag meal! I know those guys on the trail are freezer bagging Knorr sides, but my experiment today didn't work. I'll have to get on my favorite hiking forum and see who can tell me a way that DOES work. :)