Monday, September 1, 2014

Final Equipment List for JMT

Tomorrow I leave for the John Muir Trail. Here's the gear that's included in my base weight (13 lb) that will need to provide me with shelter, warmth, first aid, hot food, and any other essential function. The weight of each item (or groups of small items) is listed in my gear list.

First we look at my sleep and shelter system


Weighing in at  3.6 lb, it includes (clockwise from the top)
  • Enlightened Equipment Revelation quilt (30 deg, long/wide, 750 fill)
  • Klymit Kush pillow and sit pad
  • Borah Gear square 9x9 ft silnylon tarp with custom guyouts
  • Thermarest Neoair Xlite (regular size)
  • Polycro ground sheet (from Ace Hardware)
  • 6 Orange Tough Titanium Stakes (6.5 in) from zpacks
  • 9 Carbon Fiber tent stakes (6 in) from Ruta Locura
  • Cuben stake sack (zpacks)
 Next are my Pack and Storage items


These items weigh in at 3.9 lb and consist of
  • Bearikade Weekender bear canister (rented from Wild Ideas - they offer a great discount for JMT and other thru-hikers)
  • Mountain Laurel Designs Exodus pack (with SPOT GPS Messenger attached to one shoulder strap)
  • Lite Trail NyloBarrier Pack liner (lighter than trash compactor bags but still plenty durable)
  • Hyalite torso pad - used as a pad / support for backpack
There are also two pouches attached to the Exodus' shoulder straps. One carries a 0.5L water bottle (for easy access) and my iPhone. The other carries my camera and my notebook.

That last item is a relatively late addition. Although it weighs considerably more than the cut-down CCF pad I've been using, it provides a measure of structural rigidity that CCF pad doesn't. And for part of the trail, I expect my pack weight will be up above 25 lb. With only the CCF pad, the pack is uncomfortable above ~22-23 lb. Use of the partially inflated Hyalite pad extend that range to ~27 lb. I'd probably do better with an airbeam kit from MLD, but time and money both militated against that choice.

Next are my trail clothes or other items worn:


 This category is actually the heaviest, weighing about 4.4 lb. I includes (clockwise from left)
  • Leki trekking poles (so old they have wooden handles - try finding those at REI)
  • Bicycle gloves (blister protection for my palms, and sun protection for the backs of my hands - essential due to my vitiligo)
  • Cotton handkerchief
  • Oiled cotton hat and sunglasses (the hat and trekking poles were both with me when I reached the summit of  Longs Peak 12 year ago)
  • Underwear and polyester basketball shorts
  • Merino wool t-shirt (Icebreakers)
  • REI gaiters, with stirrup laces replaced by hook-and-loop sewn on the back (and corresponding pieces glued to the backs of my trail shoes)
  • REI merino low-cut hiking socks
  • REI sock liners
  • Trail running shoes (Salomon XT Wings 3).
  • Notebook and mini pencil (Rite in the Rain waterproof paper)
  • Timex
  • Maps in a ziploc (Tom Harrison Maps, supplemented in a few key places with USGS 1:24,000 scale quadrangles downloaded and customized) This is only the first 6 days worth - the rest are contained in resupply caches.
Next are clothing items carried for warmth or weather protection:


 These weigh in at 2.8 lb. They include (Clockwise from left)
  • Warm jacket (Western Mountaineering Flash Hoody, 3+ oz of 850 down fill)
  • Rain Jacket and pants (DriDucks Frogg Toggs)
  • Fleece gloves (Columbia)
  • Rain overgloves (Outdoor Research Versaliner shell, Pertex quantum fabric)
  • Merino wool 1/4 zip base layer (Icebreakers)
  • Wind Shirt (Mountain Hardwear Ghost Whisperer, packed up in its internal pocket. The tiny piece of fabric does an amazing job of deflecting the wind and weigh only 2.2 oz!)
  • Fleece cap (zpacks)
  • Sleeping socks (REI low-cut, different color so I don't mix them up). Sleeping sock get hiked in the next day, while the other socks are drying out from being washed the night before.
  • Microfleece base layer bottoms (REI)
Most of my backpacking has been done in Southern California, where temperatures are usually very moderate, and rain that is more than a brief shower is pretty rare. The addition or rain pants and rain overgloves are in recognition that weather in September can be quite variable. In addition, I've usually gotten by just fine with a Stoic Hadron down sweater and a pair of silk base layer bottoms. But if temperatures dip into the 20's, the additional warmth provided by the WM down jacket and microfleece bottoms may make the difference between a snug and comfortable night versus one spent shivering (or getting up to heat up some water for a hot water bottle).

My Cooking kit is shown below:


This kits weighs only about 8 oz. Clockwise from top left:
  • MYOG (Make Your Own Gear) windscreen from aluminum flashing
  • Can pot with flat bottom (from zelph's Stoveworks)
  • MYOG caddy for cook kit from a Ziploc container
  • Long-handled Ti spoon (Sea to Summit) to make it easy to get into the corners of those freezer bags
  • Lighter and matches
  • Fuel measuring cup (repurposed cough syrup measure)
  • 1 oz and 4 oz fuel bottles with denatured alcohol (bottles from US Plastics)
  • Lid for can pot
  • Starlyte stove with built-in pot stand (zelph's Stoveworks)
  • Cup / measure / caddy top
For filtering and carrying water I rely on this equipment:


This gear also comes in at about 8 oz.
  • Smart water bottle (0.5 liter because it fits neatly in one of my shoulder strap pockets)
  • Two 1-liter platypus soft bottles
  • A 2-liter Sawyer Squeeze water bag
  • The Sawyer mini filter
  • Tube for attaching the filter outlet side to one of the platypus bottles (this just makes the filtering process that much easier)
  • A cut-down water bottle used as a scoop to fill the dirty water container if water is shallow or slow-flowing
  • Cuben fiber bag for the filter and scoop (and some other accessory items shown below)
Although some folks have complained about the Sawyer filters becoming clogged, or the bags rupturing, my experiences with them have been almost uniformly positive. I do backflush the filter on a regular basis.
 
The final category is accessory items:


For the JMT I'm carrying more than usual, primarily due to duration between resupply opportunities and desire to have a cell phone / backup map and GPS unit. This gear totals 1.6 lb
  • Two ziploc bags - one for first aid type items, the other for convenience or other items
  • Thermometer (Acurite) - I carry this to be sure I can measure the comfort limits of my sleeping system
  • Comb - a necessity since dreadlocks are simply not an option
  • Two extra guylines for my tarp
  • Charger and cable for iPhone
  • iPhone with several books and complete set of maps for the JMT area pre-loaded (using the free Gaia GPS app)
  • Patch kit for sleep pad and pillow
  • Earplugs
  • Primary and backup light (Princeton Tec Pulsar, and a pinch light I got for free)
  • Extra camera battery
  • Toothbrush and floss
  • Penny for opening bear canister (the handle end of my spoon also works)
  • Extra hair elastics
  • Toothpaste (blue), Dr Bronner's soap, and Sunscreen
  • Swiss Army Classic
  • Small container of zinc ointment 
  • Small container of ibuprofen
  • Tincture of benzoin (bottle of dark liquid) for blister treatment
  • Two tubes of Bonnie's Balms lip treatment / climber's salve (primarily for my feet)
  • Small roll of leukotape
  • Roll of cotton gauze
  • Small ziploc with waterproof matches, triple antibiotic ointment, several Blist-o-Ban bandages, several large bandaids, and several steri-strips 
  • And course, my camera:

I love this camera. Takes amazing pictures, didn't cost an arm and a leg, and weighs in at 8.5 oz. If you're not dedicated to your SLR (and I can see why folks are), this is a fantastic little camera. If you don't believe me - look at the John Muir Trail banner photo - taken with this very camera.

This gear weighs in at 13 lb for my base weight. Given an expected maximum load of food plus fuel coming out of Muir Trail Ranch of nearly 10 lb., I can still keep my total pack weight right around 25-26 lb at most (13 lb base wt + 10 lb food and fuel + 2-3 lb of water carried).

Gear is all in ready to be be packed up tomorrow morning. Checklist is done:



Time to hit the trail!

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Ready to Launch (or 3 - 2 - 1)



In addition to backpacking, I do have a day job. I work in space exploration and have participated in a number of NASA missions in a variety of different roles. For these missions of exploration, there are always particularly critical events (referred to as "Critical Events" oddly enough). They included major deep space maneuvers, landings onto planetary surfaces, orbit insertion burns, and (of course) launch.

In my approach to exploring the wilderness it's quite natural for me to draw analogies and adopt modes of thought similar to those used when exploring the mysteries of our universe. For example, consider the Launch. The concept of "launch" for a deep space mission is about the high-risk endeavor of strapping a (somewhat) controlled explosive device to several-to-many hundred million dollars worth of one-of-a-kind hardware (a robotic explorer, like Voyager, Cassini, Curiosity, and others), and lighting the fuse. The "launch" of a backpacking trip has nothing like that drama, but it is very similar in two important ways.

The first is what happens immediately (for a space mission) or soon (for backpacking) after launch. Once you've "lit the candle" and sent that space probe into orbit, you can't bring it back into the shop and add the gasket, or solder the wire, or plug in the connector, or re-check testbed performance. It's much the same way on the first (or second or...) night when you reach into your gear and realize that you forgot your lighter, or spoon, or warm hat. Interestingly enough, use of a checklist to prevent this kind of "oops" is a pretty standard practice for both applications.

For a NASA mission, the consequences of a mistake in a checklist can be significant or even catastrophic. The checks and balances of NASA's review process are able to guarantee (to a very high degree of certainty) that items aren't forgotten. For the individual backpacker, it's much easier to have something just get left out. Sometimes this is of little consequence, but of course forgetting a tent or a sleeping bag or one's food sack for a multi-day hike can be a deal-breaker.

But it's the second similarity I wanted to focus on in this post. NASA missions all maintain a MEL - a Master Equipment List. A key function of that list is to keep track of every gram of mass in the spacecraft. This list is first put together once there is an initial design for a robotic probe. Of course, as designs mature (or need to be changed), the MEL also changes. Keeping track of the mass of one's spacecraft is no easy task. Every piece needs to be weighed (does this sound familiar) and that weight tracked even if an item is altered or a new item is swapped in for an older or failed component. This is done for two reasons
  1. It's incredibly expensive to launch any mass from the Earth's surface. It costs NASA roughly $10,000 per lb to reach geosynchronous orbit (escaping Earth's gravity entirely is a bit more expensive). That's over $20 per gram. (SpaceX is trying to decrease this by about a factor of ten.)
  2. When a rocket is launched, it needs to be heading along the proper trajectory. This is not as simple as aiming a gun. If the mass of the rocket plus payload is not accurately known, the probe may either fall back to Earth (and be destroyed in the process) or end up traveling in the depths of space, far from any useful target of exploration.
Although the stakes are lower, and the consequence much less severe, we backpackers also need to be concerned with the mass that we carry (yes, we call it "weight," but indulge the physicist in me for a second).  For backpacking, there are several different kinds of costs that bear on our gear choices and their weight. These include cost of the equipment (dollar cost), the value we apply to having items on the trail other than the most basic ones (convenience cost), and the physical work we do to move through the wilderness from one place to another (hiking cost). Much of our consideration of gear is an attempt to balance those various costs in a way that enables us to get the most out of our experience. It's the fact that different people apply very different weightings to the dollar, convenience, and hiking costs that leads to many of the more infamous debates on various backpacking websites. For example - trail shoes vs boot; tarp vs tent; frameless vs framed pack; quilt vs. sleeping bag; lightweight (or ultra-) vs conventional backpacking.

It's interesting to note that deep space probes commonly diverge wildly in their size, appearance, and scientific instrumentation. That's an expression of the fact that although they share a high-level goal (scientific exploration of the universe), the specific goals they have and the science investigations they need to complete are often very different. In much the same way, hikers who are focused on mileage or on seeing as much as they possibly can will make different choices for their MEL (that's their gear list in this metaphor) than will someone seeking to fish or to spend an entire day or two at each campsite.

So by now, you probably have guessed that the analogy to trajectory for the backpacker is the hiking plan. While one can (and some do) set off with only the roughest idea of where they will go and the time it will take them, most folks have constraints in terms of time and/or money, or simply are too goal oriented for that to work for them. For each of us, the number of miles we can walk in a day or week (along with the vertical elevation gain or loss) is a function of how much mass we carry. The thoughtful backpacker will recognize that this applies to both gear and personal mass, and will distribute efforts accordingly.

Graphic from my gear list on lighterpack.com
As I prepare for my own personal launch (approximately noon Pacific Daylight time, Sept. 4th, from the Mono Meadow trailhead), I've compiled my own personal MEL, which backpackers usually call a gear list, and use it to track their base weight (total of all items carried, minus clothing worn, food, fuel, and other consumables). I've worked hard over the past two years to fall in the ultralight range (<12 lb base weight), but for this trip I've decided that some of the luxury items like an iPhone, a camera, and a notebook are a convenience cost that I'm willing to pay. And while I could reduce my base weight with lighter gear (e.g., cuben tarp or lighter sleeping bag) the dollar cost is too much for my tastes. I'm satisfied that with this base weight, I can meet my planned trajectory of an average of 12 miles per day, while balancing all the other factors that will help me to enjoy this trip.

Maybe that seems a bit over analytical to some of you (and yes, I saw that eyeroll). For me it comes down to two things. First, I actually enjoy the analysis and putting careful thought into my choices. So I enjoy putting these kind of plans in place. More important to me is the payoff: when I've finished my planned hike for the day, and I still feel like walking a mile or more up to the top of a ridge or up along a creek to see the waterfall that someone told me about. That's a direct result of having control over the amount of mass I carry, and the amount of energy I expend on the trail each day.

4...3...2...



Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Tarp Practice for the JMT

Tarp in a modified A-frame in Los Padres National Forest, San Rafael Wilderness
I spent a few hours on Saturday practicing setting up my tarp and trying out some different configurations. I've collected some of these on a Pinterest board. In this post I'll show a few options that I was exploring

As part of my evolution to more lightweight backpacking, over the last 3 year I've gone from a conventional double-walled tent (at a couple ounces more than 4 lbs)
Mountain Hardware Solitude tent in Los Padres NF - San Rafael Wilderness

To a single-walled tent (a Henry Shires' Tarptent Rainbow) at just shy of 2 lb.

Tarptent Rainbow at Upper Graveyard Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness

To a square flat tarp, weighing in at 15 oz., including guylines
Borah Gear 9x9 ft silnylon tarp (custom guyouts) at Thousand Island Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness

I decided on a square 9 ft X 9 ft silnylon tarp after doing research on Backpackinglight.com and a number of other lightweight backpacking sites. There are lighter (and more expensive) options, but this was a relatively inexpensive way to try it out. I had to consider the possibility that I would feel insecure without being enclosed safely behind a tent wall and mesh. Also, the simplicity, flexibility, and openness that were possible with a square, flat tarp appealed to me

I ordered the tarp from Borah Gear, and added additional tieouts interior to the panel, and two small loops to enable me to tie my bivy sack netting up and out of my face. The tieouts conform to those suggested by Ryan Jordan's excellent article on tarp camping (Tarp Camping Techniques for Inclement Conditions). You need a subscription to Backpackinglight.com to read the article but if you have any interest in backpacking techniques and gear, the yearly subscription is well worth the cost.

One of the fundamental pitches the tarp camper needs in his or her repertoire is a stormworthy pitch. I like Ryan's suggestion, which looks like this:



A few things to note: The tarp should be pitched such that the ridgeline of the tarp parallels the wind direction, with the low end windward of the entrance. The back corners and back center tieouts are staked low to the ground to help shed wind and minimize the dynamic load on the tarp. The panel tieouts are used in combination with one trekking pole to create more usable space within the interior and add to the overall stability.

The front corners and center of the entrance are configure to create an entrance with the desired height. In higher wind / heavier rain situations, the trekking pole can be lowered and the corners moved outward to create as low a profile as possible. The side tieouts can be used (or not) depending on whether they are needed to stabilize the tarp. Jordan recommends at least 14 stakes - I carry 9 Ruta Locura CF stakes (6 inches) and 6 Ti shepherds hook skewers. That allows me to stake out the front and back guylines with 2 stakes each (for extra holding power), all four corners, the back center tieout, and all six mid-edge tieouts along the two sides. The total weight of those stakes is about 100g (about 3.5 oz).

The next pitch is an A-frame. This one is great for conditions in which wind is not a significant concern.



For headroom, living space, or gear space, this is a great configuration. It's also simple to set up and doesn't require as large a site as some other configurations. With the 9 foot length, there's more than enough room for me to keep both my feet and my head dry (I'm 6' 1" tall, and plenty of single person backpacking tents by mainstream manufacturers simply do not give me enough room to sit up or straighten my legs without touching the tent walls). Although I have not had to do so yet, I can easily envision setting up my alcohol stove and boiling water for my dinner inside the tarp while it rains outside.

As I've practiced this pitch, I've gotten better at aligning the corners and the ridgeline to have a taut pitch that minimizes the flapping when a breeze blows.

I'll show two more pitches below that simply illustrate some of the flexibility available. Not sure I'd use the second one, but with the right weather conditions, the first would make for a nice view from my sleeping bag.






I could use more practice, but that's part of the fun of this. We'll have to see which of these I'll use on the trail next month.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Getting Older Means You Get To Look Back

Southwest corner of the Longs Peak summit. I'm sitting because both behind
and in front to my left are sheer drops of at least 2,000 feet.
In five days, it will be twelve years ago that I walked the 9 miles and ~5000 feet from the trailhead to the summit of Longs Peak (14,259 feet) in Rocky Mountain Nation Park. I grew up hiking and skiing in the Rockies, and had always looked at Longs as it loomed over the Estes Park area and thought that I'd be up there someday. My baby sister had even been at the summit, carried up by my parents when she was only a few months old and I was 11. 

But now, I was 41 years old, and school and work and family had been my priority and my excuse for not making that climb. I had trained hard (and lost considerable weight) in order to finally make this utterly trivial and completely necessary trek. 



Longs Peak, lit by the the first rays of the sun at dawn.

I'd attempted the summit with my oldest son just a couple of days prior, but he'd gotten altitude sickness at somewhere around 11,000 feet after our ascent by headlamp in the predawn darkness. I'd pushed him a bit to go on, but it became clear that he was genuinely Not Having A Good Time, and so we descended.

Now it was about 3 am and I was heading up the steep trail. I emerged from the trees at about 10,000 feet and shut off my headlamp. Although the sun hadn't yet made its presence known, the moon lit up the trail and my path was clear. As I ascended past about 12,000 feet, the eastern horizon began to appear.

Sunrise looking east from the flank of Longs Peak. Venus is just visible at the top, to the right of center.

As dawn began to reveal the vast expanse of the Great Plains to the east, I realized the plain I was looking at was actually a cloud layer not more than a couple thousand feet above the ground, and a mile or so below me. It completely blanketed the expanse of farmland and prairie along the Front Range, covering it like the waters of an ocean that has suddenly appeared to lap at the foothills. And as I watched, a molten orb of gold rose out of that sea as if to announce the first day of the world. And while I did forget how to breathe, I did not forget how to push that button on my camera.

Sunrise


I'd never seen a sunrise like that one before and I've never seen one since. But every morning when I'm high enough above the ocean of noise and bustle and everyday currents of life that threaten to pull me beneath the waters - on those mornings I get up early. I find a vantage point, and I look east. And I hope that I will again see that orb rise and feel my breath and my bones and my heart beat as the sun and the world and the universe take shape again and for the first time.