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!

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...

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.

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.

A High Sierra Adventure (with Scouts) Part 4

From my notes at 18:55 on 2013-07-19
At Soldier Lake

Terrain map showing our start (1) and end points(2) for the day. New Army pass is the red maker ("A"). The hardest portion of the day's hike would be the 1.6 miles (and about 1200 vertical feet) from Long Lake to New Army.

The next morning we were up with the sun. Despite best intentions, we didn't hit the trail until about 08:15. We still needed to get familiar with what it meant to get up, take down the tents, eat breakfast, and finish packing our backpacks. And some of the boys are really not "morning people."

While we ate breakfast I was sneaking looks at John C. to see how he was doing. He actually seemed to relapse a bit after eating, and was complaining of stomach pains. I sat with him and gave him a quiet "rah-rah" speech and told him that I thought he could make it up and over the pass, but let him know that we'd be able to revisit as we went upward.

We finished packing up all our gear, including distributing most of  John's gear amongst the other Scouts and set off at a very deliberate pace. I was determined that we'd take it slow, even if that made some of the stronger Scouts a little impatient. And I was feeling the altitude myself.

Despite our worries about John, we made it up and over New Army Pass ("A" above) from our campsite at Long Lake (1). Although only about 1.6 miles along the trail, we ascended nearly 1200 ft -- according to Google Earth, that's an average slope of nearly 14 degrees. And since we were starting at about 11,160 ft above sea level, the air was pretty thin.

View of the trail upward from just above Long Lake. The trail can be seen extending from lower right to near the center. New Army Pass summit is just to the left of the small (from this perspective) outcropping seen right of center along the ridgeline.

Our first milestone along the way was High Lake, nestled snugly up against a steep slope/cliffs (700-800 ft high) to the north. We took a break and ate a snack before pressing onward and upward.

High Lake and adjacent cliffs

This next portion of the trail was probably the toughest - mostly from a mental standpoint. The wide-open moonscape of rocks and boulders left no illusions about the height of the hill we had to climb. The boys just kept at it -- all of them struggling at least somewhat. Sam even suffered a mild asthma attack at one point - the first one he'd had in over two years. Nathan was a great help, walking along with two of the boys (John C and Gage) who were struggling a bit more. One problem that would get us later was that Gage only had a single 1-quart water bottle - and so Nathan ended up sharing a good deal of his water with Gage.

By 10:30 we estimated we were slightly more than 2/3 of the way up the pass and took a break. It was a little nerve-wracking for me since the boys were not always as careful with where they placed their equipment, or whether they dislodged any rocks. The slope was quite steep -- if  a pack got loose here, it could easily tumble a couple hundred feet down.

John, Gage, and Nathan as we overlook Long Lake(nearest) and Cottonwood Lake #1(farthest).

Now we could see that the summit was getting closer. Recognizing we'd gained that much altitude and knowing we'd done the majority of the hard work seemed to buoy the boys spirits. All through the ascent we'd also benefited from a cool breeze that mitigated the bright sunshine. And then, as the breeze died down, high clouds began to form, which also helped keep us from overheating (see pic below).

View from the trail of the escarpment at New Army Pass. The last remaining bit of snow (which was still feeding High Lake and other) is in the center. You can also see the high clouds and shadowing from them that began forming mid-morning.

As it turned out, we were not far from the summit and reached it by 11:00. What a relief!

The group at New Army Pass

We took another break and ate lunch while taking in the incredible views. Gary and I mapped out the remainder of the day's hike and then I tried to capture some of the scenery. Below are a couple of the better ones:

Sam absorbing the view. Mt Langley is the massive peak filling most of the upper part of the frame.

View to the northwest. There are several peaks in view. From right to left, Joe Devel Pk, then Mt. Pickering is left of center, Mt Newcomb is in the center (just right of the unnamed foreground peak that appears higher), and Mt. Whitney is the highest peak in the distance on the right.

After lunch and some equipment adjustments we headed downhill and into Sequoia National Forest. The trail was moved downward at a reasonable slope, with long switchback segments until we reached the valley below. Soon we'd moved back below treeline and were walking along the path of a small stream. We followed the well-marked trail and had arrived at Soldier Lake by about 1:30. We had to do some reconnoitering to find a campsite - the heavily used spot near the lake had been closed by the Park Service so it could recover. We found a nice spot on the slope above the meadow and the lake thanks to Gary.

The only downside of the spot was its distance from the lake and the outlet stream that we depended on for water. But we sent a few of the boys down to pump water for the group. And that's when our troubles with water filters would begin (and persist through the end of the trip). After waiting a long time for the water party to return, I took a walk down to see what was happening. One of the three filters the boys had brought (all Katydyn Hiker Pros) had broken - somehow the outlet attachment portion had broken off the main body of the pump. And the other pump they were using was very very slow. Sure enough, its filter was heavily contaminated. I cursed the Scouts who'd used it last month for not servicing it, and we swapped the filter cartridge with the broken filter. I figured that would fix the problem since the broken filter was brand new (with a new cartridge). That seemed to fix things.

After dinner (Mac and Cheese for them, Gary and I had pasta with Thai peanut sauce) we discussed the next day's plan. Given that everyone seemed OK (if a bit tired in some cases) I'd decided we should pack up and move the next day to Sky Blue Lake. The option was to do this as a day hike, but I was convinced that once we got there, we'd want to stay. There were a few grumbles but that seemed to work for everyone. Since we only had about 4 miles to cover (although without a marked trail), I figured we could let everyone sleep in a bit.

It looked to me like the trip was working out quite well. We'd made it through a major challenge and were ready to take on the rest of the trip.

A High Sierra Adventure (with Scouts) Part 3

From my notes at 15:15 on 2013-07-18
At Long Lake

Gary B. drove in last night and found us this morning as we were getting ready to the trail. I'd gotten everyone going at 0600, but as usual, it was taking the boys a while to get moving. Finally we got the cars packed up with gear we were leaving behind, disposed of all our extra food, and had the packs ready to go. We began hiking up the sandy, but nicely shaded trail at about 0800. Temperatures in the mid-60's I'd guess, with a light breeze.

Our group ready to hit the trail on Thursday morning at 8 am. Our goal for the day is to make it Long Lake (11,160 ft) from the trailhead (10,070 ft) - a distance of about 6 miles. From left to right: Mitch, Gary, Gage, Sam, Nathan, Daniel, John, and Austin.

As has been typical with our hikes over the past two years, John C. wanted to be out front and set the pace. He moved out relatively quickly and we made good progress. I figured that was OK - and that there'd be the inevitable self-correction. The trailhead is at 10,000 ft and although we'd had the overnight to acclimate, I know I was certainly feeling the effects. As we'll see, the "self-correction" was more than I'd expected.

By 1030, John was struggling. We had hit the first significant climb of our hike at about 0900 - about 1,000 feet over two miles. We were nearly through it, but the sun, dry air, and high altitude had gotten to John. He was flushed, hot, and generally not feeling well. We worked on getting some water and food into him, and let him sit for a bit. One issue that would bug me throughout the trip - John had an internal platypus for water and there is no easy way to monitor his intake of water.

The other boys were mostly doing well, although several were feeling the effects of altitude and/or lack of sleep (common for first few days at altitude). Sam (in particular) complained that he hadn't been able to sleep. We ate lunch (trail mix, luna bars, dark chocolate, peanut butter cheese crackers) and soldiered on.

By 11:30 we'd arrived at Cottonwood Lake #1 (11,041 ft). The trees opened up and gave us our first real vista of the surrounding peaks [PHOTO]. John was still struggling, and we divided up much of his equipment, and Nathan and Gary took turns carrying the pack the final mile plus to Long Lake.

Five-frame mosaic of Cottonwood Lake #1 and surrounding peaks. Mt Langley (14,026 ft) is just left of center. Click here for full-size, zoomable image

Level stretch of trail leading toward Long Lake. New Army Pass looms in the distance, with the summit of Cirque Peak hidden behind trees on the left.

We arrived at Long Lake around 1300 and found a nice, if heavily used campsite at the west end of the lake. After setting up tent and our kitchen/food area, most of the boys went down to the lake to take a dip and fish. We had John lay down in his tent and continued to get him hydrated (including electrolytes).

By mid afternoon, John had recovered sufficiently to take a (short) swim and do some fishing. Everyone was clearly feeling the elevation, and nearly all of us took at least a short nap or a lie-down.

Over at our kitchen area I discovered we had some fearless ground squirrels as neighbors. Managed to shoo them off before they got into our dinner (which was not in the canisters) and hung it up out of their reach. But they were clearly habituated to humans and to our food.

The lake itself is beautiful, nestled at the base of New Army Pass, with a steep escarpment to the north and a view of Cirque Peak to the south. The lake is clear and cold - perfect for cooling off hot feet after the dusty, sandy trail.

Dinner was dehydrated meals (portioned and repackaged) along with hot cocoa and a dessert. Most everyone ate well, although with less relish than usual. John seemed to relapse a bit after dinner. Gage also threw up at one point, although he seemed to bounce back quickly and didn't display other symptoms of altitude sickness.

We kept a close eye on both. I was sufficiently worried to discuss contingency plans with Nathan and Gary that would get John back down to the trailhead. We decided that Plan A was to divide up John's pack and leave him with just the pack, his water, and a few clothing items for the next morning's ascent of New Army Pass. Plan B would have Gary take John along with Gary's son Mitch back to the trailhead, while the rest of us proceeded. Plan C was to take the whole group back.

At this point, it's worth discussing some of the considerations that enter into making decisions in this kind of situation. The first has to do with leadership and experience. As a fairly experienced hiker and backpacker, I needed to draw on past situations and on my formal and informal training (e.g., Red Cross Wilderness First Aid certification, and many hours spent in the mountains of CA and CO). I also needed to be able to recognized my own bias and how vested I was in completing this trip. Remember, I'd gone through all the planning the previous year, only to have the trip fall through. And, just a couple weeks ago, we'd cut short a backpack above Palm Springs (near Mt San Jacinto) because one of the boys had symptoms of altitude sickness).

So, as a type A, goal-oriented person, my tendency is to push through. How then to ensure I'm making a good decision? One of the important things I did was to make sure I wasn't too tired to make good decisions. I'd deliberately minimized my pack load - I didn't carry any of the bear canisters (by far the heaviest items we had) until John faltered. I also had kept to the back of the group and was willing to take it slow when some of the Scouts were pushing up the trail. And I'm familiar with the fatigue and fuzziness of thought that can come with the inevitable hypoxia that comes with going from sea level to 10,000+ feet in a short period of time. So I knew that sitting down and resting and having some uninterrupted time to consider the situation was a necessary part of dealing with the situation.

Finally, I had identified clear, simple options. And once I'd identified those, I was prepared to follow any one of them. If John's (or any other Scout's) condition deteriorated markedly during the night or the next morning as we hiked up the Pass, I had reconciled myself with pulling the trigger on either B or C.

It's this kind of planning that is what I think the Scout motto ("Be Prepared") is really all about.

A High Sierra Adventure (with Scouts) Part 2

From my notes taken at 16:16 on 2013-07-17
At Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead Camp

After a drive to Lone Pine and lunch at the Alabama Hills Cafe and Bakery (large burgers of various types), we drove from Lone Pine up to the Cottonwood Pass trailhead campsite. Horseshoe Meadow Rd (the road to the trailhead) has an impressive view of the Owens Valley below as it switchbacks up an exposed mountain face for about 5000 ft.

Arriving at the trailhead, we chose our specific tent sites. We quickly discovered

1. Poles to one of the troop tent were broken. Fiberglass pole split along the length. While I had a splint, chances that such a repair would last the trip seemed small.
2. I had my spare REI Sierra Dome tent - but I didn't bring the poles. <unprintable mutter>
3. But we did have the spare 3/4 person Coleman troop tent. Austin and Mitch took it.

We got the Scout's tents set up and the campsite organized. Then we did a trial loading up of all our food and equipment for the backpack, including the food. We'd done a pack check on Monday night and I knew that all the scouts could fit a bear canister in their packs, but we didn't have everything ready to go at that time.

I'm glad we did this - it probably saved us an hour or so the next morning. Although Scouts had much of their own equipment, we had to split up:

• Tents (2 Scouts per tent)
• Water filters (3)
• Nalgene Cantenes (3) (large, soft-sided water bottles)
• Fuel canisters (3 lg, 2 sm) and stoves (3)
• Bear canisters (5)
• Food for 1st day's lunch and dinner (not in canisters)

I carried a complete but compact First Aid kit for the group, supplemented by each Scout's individual kit.

We took 5 bear canisters - four Garcia Backpacker Cache and on Bear Vault 450. A listing of the meal plan and food (and fuel) weights can be seen here (opens a separate window). In a future post I'll talk about the meal planning and logistics of packing the food (perhaps the most time-consuming part of the preparations).

After that the Scouts had a couple hours free time. I scouted out the trailheads both outgoing and incoming so that I'd know how to get back to the cars when we came out (the end of our trail was about 0.5 miles south of the beginning trailhead). At 6 pm we started the fire - it took way too long for the hardwood logs I'd brought from home to really get going. But we finally cooked hot dogs and chili (in the can, placed in the coals) and had chips and smores for dessert.  Had just the right number of hot dogs (2 per person) and smores (bag marshmallows, 8 Hershey bars, box graham crackers) but too much chili and chips (3 cans and 2 bags). The food choice was clearly a hit with my audience.

We got everyone in tents by 8:30 pm (stayed light until 9:00 even though the sun had set about an hour before). Ready to hit the trail tomorrow!