Tag: PCT

Posted on

PCT Put-Downs

Ranger notice Near Rock Creek

“That bear needs to be put-down,” said the PCT hiker after a night it wreaked havoc at Lake Gilmore in Tahoe’s Desolation Wilderness.  That smart ursine climbed trees to collect hung food bags, poached trail mix from backpacks, and even entered a tent where a PCT hiker was using his food bag as a pillow. In other words, one very smart, very hungry and very aggressive bear.

“You can’t have bears barging into tents and taking people’s food,” the man said.  I asked: “Did you bring a bear canister? 

“They aren’t required here, and besides I don’t camp in designated campsite,” the guy answered.  I suppose that meant, no.  He didn’t use a bear can.

“And they weigh 3 pounds,” I offered.  “Yeah, that too. And the odds of a bear taking your food are very slim,” he added.  Let’s be clear, after many months hanging out with PCT hikers:  It’s all about the extra weight.

I also did the math.  There were 20 campers at Lake Gilmore that night, only me and one other person were exempted from the bear’s rampage, probably because he was too stuffed.  I think that works out to 90% of the campers provided bear food that night. Maybe not slim odds.

There are a lot of inexperienced backpackers walking in the Desolation Wilderness who have no clue how to protect themselves from bears attacking their food.  You would think that PCT thru hikers who have been on the trail for months would know how to do so, but amazingly they have convinced themselves that they are immune from such dangers, and that it’s perfectly reasonable to “put-down” bears that are causing problems rather than changing their own bad habits. 

And I get it.  Carrying a bear canister that weighs 3 pounds is 10% of your total weight if your pack is 30 pounds.  For ultra-light hikers, that canister might be 30% of their entire pack weight. (Lots of advanced math in this blog.)

Saw this young guy on the PCT just south of Chester

But you aren’t doing yourself, other hikers or the bears any favors by choosing less weight over safety in bear country.  That aggressive Lake Gilmore bear may very well be killed (put-down) for its behavior.  Or it will teach its cubs that unprotected human food is a more convenient diet rather than eating the old-fashioned way by foraging on berries and other boring forest food.

Bottomline: The cost of peace-of-mind in bear country weighs 3 pounds.

Posted on

Slow Learner

You can’t blame it on old age or lack of experience or not doing my research. But it took me more than 45-years to make the leap from hiking with boots to tennis shoes.  Maybe I’m just a slow learner.

In 1978, I bought a new pair of heavy, leather hiking boots. (Salomon).  That’s what you did in the 70’s. The first trip I wore them was in the Trinity Alps with my buddy George.  He wore tennis shoes.  Within hours those boots gave me silver-dollar sized blisters on both heels. Might be showing my age with the reference to silver dollars. But trust me, it was five-days of hiking torture.

Two years later, I carried those heavy treds through the south Pacific and southeast Asia before arriving in Nepal.  I had worn them in by then and didn’t get blisters.  But the trail around Annapurna was wet and snowy.  Every night I put my boots by the fire to dry at the Nepali homes we stayed in.  Didn’t happen. Every morning I put on soggy boots.  One night a Canadian woman was at the same tea house as our group.  She had worn Keds crossing the nearly 18,000-foot Thorong La Pass, and they were soaked from hiking over snow and ice.  However, the next morning her tennies were warm and dry while I laced up my cold, wet Salomon’s.  I may have cried. 

Over the next decades, I continued to hike in boots which were now lighter and easier on the feet. When it came to the footwear to choose for the PCT, I decided to stick with boots for the first 700-miles in the California desert instead of the trail runners most PCT hikers wear. Bad decision.  My feet and legs hated me for the blisters and shin splints that resulted.

On my next 500-mile leg, I switched to trail runners which gave my feet room to spread out, and finally I was rewarded with happy feet at the end of a hiking day.  Why did it take me 45-years to make the change? Stubbornness makes me a slow learner.

Posted on

What makes a good trail partner?

Pak Dave & Moving Target

The PCT explodes your ideological bubble. You meet people from all different backgrounds with many different opinions about life, politics, hiking strategies and, most importantly, what to eat at the next resupply town.

And that’s a good thing because I’ve been living in my Berkeley bubble, reading the New York Times, Washington Post and BBC, and giving to Democratic causes.  Because the stakes have been so high in the Trump era, I’ve grown intolerant of other opinions or maybe I’m just getting old.

That’s why it’s been such a gift to be hiking with my buddy, Moving Target.  We have totally different views about politics, but we’re tight hiking partners.

Moving Target is a good man, husband and father.  He’s a small businessman whose been running an auto repair shop in southern Illinois for more than 40 years. We share a love for nature.  He can spot wildlife better than anyone I’ve hiked with. Below is one of the short videos he makes while on the trail.  He also can identify birds from their tweeting and he’s an encyclopedia for the plants and trees we’re seeing every day.

A few times we tried to start a discussion about a political or social topic, but it was clear that there was a gaping chasm between our positions.  In diplomatic terms, we had a frank exchange of views.  I understood where he was coming from, but it was a difficult discussion.

But that didn’t stop us from being simpatico hiking partners, appreciating where we shared values and where we didn’t.  It’s a good lesson to keep in mind, and not just on the trail. You don’t necessarily have to agree on politics to have your hiking partner’s back.

Posted on

Bounce

It takes grit to walk 702 miles in the desert from Campo to Kennedy Meadows. There are long climbs up rugged mountains, rattlesnakes, cactus waiting to stab you, scarce water holes, rattlesnakes, blisters…Did I mention rattlesnakes?

But it toughens you up. Most people who complete the desert section, go on to finish the entire 2,650 miles of the PCT. It’s a challenge for anyone. My friend Bounce surmounted all of these obstacles, but he has one hurdle that no one else on the trail must face.  Last year he was diagnosed with a debilitating disease that slowly causes his toes and feet to contract, like the hand deformity Viking’s disease.  The doctor said over time he would lose the ability to walk.  Bounce’s first question: Can I hike the Pacific Crest Trail?  “Do it sooner rather than later,” the doctor answered. He talked to his wife and got the go-ahead to hit the trail this year.

Bounce is a quiet guy. He often camps by himself in the desert rather than at designated campsites.  I had met him several times on the trail, but we had never really talked much until we both camped one night at Walker Pass.  We shared a picnic table, and he told me about his disease, and the pain he endures every day on the trail.  He was looking forward to seeing his wife and kids who were coming to meet him at Kennedy Meadows, a three-day walk from there. When he learned that I was one meal short on this stretch, he insisted I take one of his ramen packets.

I asked him why he wanted to walk the PCT.  He said it had been a life-long dream, and intimated that it was a way for him to take back control of his body from the disease. He was willing to pay the price for his decision to hike, which was constant pain.

I don’t know who gave him the trail name Bounce, but it’s brilliant.  Bounce is short for Bounce Back…from adversity.  It’s an important mindset for all PCT hikers because we have lots of obstacles to overcome. Bounce is showing us the way with courage, determination, and a heart bigger than the Sierras.

Safe travels brother.