Photography: Tendril at Indiana Dunes

I took this photo in Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore in 2010. You can support my blog by ordering a print in my Etsy store. Use coupon code 5OFF2013 and receive $5 off any purchase of $15 or more.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

While traveling in the Pacific Northwest, after I told people I was from Indiana, they acted as though their immense soaring views must be utterly mind-blowing to a flatlander hayseed like myself. It almost solicited a feeling of Midwesterner pride in me. Although they were right, of course.

I've long held romantic ideas of the west. As a kid, traveling west seemed like travelling to another world. They had mountains, geysers, and wildlife that didn't exist in my small patch of Earth. My world existed in a place where the views through the windshield were largely determined by the current height of the corn.

Sometimes I think my appreciation for nature and romantic view of the west wouldn't exist if not for my Midwestern roots. Might I have grown up thinking mountain views were ordinary? Would they have the same power over me? This picture, however, reminds me that my love of nature goes deeper than that. I look at this photo with the same sense of awe as any grand mountain view.

I spotted this tendril grabbing onto a branch for support while hiking through Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. I tend to forget that plants aren't stationary. In fact, they are rarely still. They simply live by a different clock than we do.

No matter where I live, a major part of me will always live somewhere out west, but beauty in nature is everywhere. You just have to stop and look.

  

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Deer at Mokowanis Lake

This is Mokowanis Lake in Glacier National Park. I took this photo in August 2012. You can support my blog by ordering prints in my Etsy store. Use coupon code 5OFF2013 and receive $5 off any purchase of $15 or more.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

To access Mokowanis Lake you must get off the main loop and stroll down a quiet spur trail, so it was a peaceful, less frequented, spot to set up camp.

The distant sound of a waterfall gave a constant background of white noise while I sat by that unbelievable turquoise lake for hours reading a book. Occasionally, I saw a deer grazing on foliage or sipping the lake water. It seemed as approachable and unafraid of people as a stray Labrador Retriever. It even wagged its white tail.

After the sun set, I retreated to my tent. I was still reading after dark under headlamp light when something moved outside my tent. I slowly poked my head out to see what it was. It was just the deer. I zipped the tent shut and went back to my book. Then I heard my trekking poles clack against a log. I stuck my head back out and saw the deer with one of the handle straps in his mouth sucking on the accumulated salty sweat.

“Hey! Stop that!” I yelled. Its eyes shifted over to me and it paused for a moment as if contemplating its next move. Suddenly, it grabbed the pole's handle in its teeth and took off into the woods.

“I paid $80 for those you son of a bitch!” I yelled while shoving my bare feet into my shoes. She didn't care though, what’s $80 to a deer? Chump change is what. I ran into the woods after it, leaping over logs and trampling through leaves. After a short chase, she stopped with the pole hanging from her mouth. She looked at me with that long dumb deer face.

“Drop the pole, you stupid deer!” I yelled and the pole dropped to its feet.

“What? I ain’t got anything,” its expression seemed to say. “Nah, nah, man. That was that other deer.”

For a moment, we stared each other down like it was high noon in Dodge City. Suddenly, she bolted into the woods leaving my saliva-drenched trekking pole on the ground.

I walked back to my tent with my pole in hand, victorious.
  

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Bleeding Heart

This wasn't actually taken from a trail like my other photos, but I liked it so wanted to include it here. I took it in my old backyard before leaving for the Appalachian Trail. This may surprise you, but I used to have a house before I started all this.

You can support my blog by ordering a print of this photo in my Etsy store. Use coupon code 5OFF2013 and receive $5 off any purchase of $15 or more.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

There isn't much of a story actually. The woman who lived in the house before me had the two-acre property looking  like a city park. There were several species of trees, a creek, and a wide variety of wild flowers. The first year I lived in the house, I never knew what flowers might pop up next. This one was my favorite.

The lack of a story for this photo is the biggest endorsement I can give for getting out and seeing the world. Living for the anecdote is a great way to ensure you'll live an adventurous and fulfilling life. 

  

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

The Before Interview with Victor Maisano, 2013 Appalachian Trail Thru-Hiker

Earlier today, Victor Maisano officially began his thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail (you can follow him and his crew at BackpackingAT.com). 

If you're reading this you probably know I've been answering some of his questions about the trail. Before he left I turned the tables and asked him a few. I thought it would be interesting to ask them before and after to see if, and how, his answers have changed. 

The first few questions, however, I asked because I like knowing what motivates others to take on such a challenge. . Are they an adventurer discontented by a cubical life? Do they just want to challenge themselves?  Did they conceive the endeavor when things in life seemed to be falling apart or when everything finally came together? 

Hundreds of people head to the Appalachian Trail with a unique story and personal motivation. I love seeing how all their stories converge.

RG: When did you first hear about the Appalachian Trail?

VM: I believe I first learned about the Appalachian Trail in Boy Scouts. There is a fifty-miler badge I always wanted to get, but never had the chance to earn.

RG: When did you start dreaming of doing it? Or what finally inspired you to take this on?

VM: Oddly enough when I was in Costa Rica. Even though I was living the Caribbean dream and saving turtles 24/7, the water always seemed to be clearer in the other pond. Throughout my thought process of "what is next" after volunteering at a Sea Turtle Conservatory, I knew I was not ready to head back to a "normal" life back in the corporate world full time. So looking to challenge myself physically and mentally the Appalachian Trail came easily to mind. My mind was fully set after skimming a couple of articles online and bouncing around previous AT thru-hikers blogs. I would imagine myself in their shoes/pictures!

RG: What are you most looking forward to?

VM: Meeting great people, seeing random animals (other than the ones you find in suburbia) and attempting my wilderness survival skills from time to time.

RG: What do you hope to get out of this experience?

VM: New perspective from this hiking community and learn all that I can from the experience that I would not have from reading about it.

RG: What was your first big adventure? 

VM: I would like to think my first big adventure was when I headed to Vietnam for 2 months with my older (adopted Vietnamese) Brother when I was 15ish. Sleeping on dirt floors, eating interesting meals (including dog) and being the only white person in these small villages was certainly an eye opener for what the vast opportunities the world has.

RG: There are a lot of unknowns that you wonder about when planning a hike like this. What are you biggest concerns?

VM: To be honest it's power. I plan to be very social media savvy and fear the amount I want to update will not correspond with amount of juice I am bringing - granted I am bringing solar panels through the green tunnel. Other than that it's my lack of Knives. At the moment I am bringing a smaller sized serrated knife. Seeing as He-Man and Leonardo were able to protect themselves from all sorts of enemies, I figured that's what I need. However I know that Skeletor nor the Shredder will be anywhere near the trail. 

RG: What is your current pack weight?

VM: Yikes sensitive topic. I think right now it's 45ish lbs.

RG: I agree it can be a sensitive question. It's often followed by someone with an ultralight pack telling you you're doing something wrong. I only ask because I want to see if, and how much, it changes by the time we do this interview again. So, what is your favorite gear item right now?

VM: To be honest it's my Osprey 65L Backpack. Never before in my life had I had a backpack that of a quality nature. This pack feels like I am giving my little nephew a horsey back ride and he's holding on tight!

RG: How are you preparing (physically, or mentally)?

VM: Physically I am not - I am solely relying on my youth to start me off. I know this not the smartest idea, but I feel my body is very adaptable. Plus I won't complain even if was having a hard time.

Mentally - I have been trying to imagine myself on the trail and going through the various scenarios. Reading other peoples blogs and just speaking with previous section and through hikers has been great as well!

RG: Yeah, physically the best way to prepare is to backpack before heading out, which can seem a bit redundant if you're not trying to break a speed record. Have you backpacked before? What's the longest you've ever hiked?

VM: I have backpacked 2 sections of AT Before. Both in/near the Smoky Mountains, with a small group of friends for 50 miles over 4 days.

RG: Do you have more adventures in mind after this one?

VM: Next adventure is TBD. I would not mind switching back and forth between water and land based adventures. My mind has been definitely wandering, but my bank account says I need a job BADLY. Perhaps I can combine the two?

RG: Combining the two is a dream of all wanderers, but the good news is many find a way. And the Appalachian Trail can make anyone realize how little income and possessions they really need, which will get you halfway there.

Last question, do you have a trail name yet or do you prefer the tradition of letting it happen on the trail? Some people prefer to go into it with a name already chosen to avoid a bad name. For example, for most of my hike I was called Nancy Drew, but not everyone will be so lucky.

VM: I do not have a trail name. I would prefer the traditional route. However I have a feeling with my personality and friends, this will be very random and most likely not reflect me. But I'll go with it.

RG: I'm sure we'll find out very soon what it will be on your blog at BackpackingAT.com. Thanks for your time Victor and good luck out there! 

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. 

Q&A: Bugs and Other Pests on the Appalachian Trail

Victor asks for tips in dealing with pests and other natives of the Appalachian Trail, such as Ticks, Flies, Mice, Poison Oak, Poison Ivy, and any others not on his radar. I’m going to break his question up in parts.

First, let me just remind you that Victor's hike begins this Thursday (March 28th), join me in following his progress at BackpackingAT.com.

VM: From what I hear, knowledge is power. Is it true that learning how to prevent visitors is half the battle, or is it inevitable?

RG: Yes and yes. There are ways to reduce potential issues with the bugs and wildlife, but it comes with the territory. There are different guidelines for different pests that I’ll go into below.

Ticks

VM: Do you have any useful hints for removing ticks? Is it true a drop of turpentine will make the ticks dig themselves out?

RG: Good question. Ticks are the worst. I'd honestly rather see a black bear on the trail (actually I love seeing black bears, so that's a bad example). I only saw two ticks crawling on me while hiking the AT, but I also met two hikers who contracted Lyme Disease, so it's good to know a few things about them before heading out.

There are several myths about tick prevention and removal. Using heat or covering the tick with anything in order to coax it back out can only make the problem worse. It can actually cause them to regurgitate more saliva (and potentially more pathogens) into your bloodstream.

The hypostome, i.e. mouth parts, that they burrow into your skin, looks similar to a tiny barbed harpoon. Also, some ticks, like the Lyme-Disease-spreading deer tick, secrete a cement-like substance to keep themselves securely attached to your skin while feeding. In other words, they can't back out quickly even if they wanted to. The longer the tick is attached, the higher your risk of infection, so the goal is to remove the tick as soon as possible.

The best way to remove a tick

The best way is with tweezers. Some ticks, like the Deer Tick, can be as tiny as a poppy seed, so you’ll need tweezers that can grab something that small. Grab the tick as close to your skin as possible and slowly pull it straight out. Clean the skin around the bite with alcohol. If the hypostome (mouthparts) remain stuck in your skin, don’t worry about it. Doctors aren't concerned about it, so I'm not either. Also, when the hypostome breaks it may even send germs and saliva further back into the ticks body and saliva glands.

Lyme Disease

The biggest concern with ticks on the Appalachian Trail is Lyme Disease. There are 30,000 to 40,000 cases in the United States annually and about three out of four are reported in ten of the states along the Appalachian Trail.

Here they are in order of highest cases per capita: Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Maryland, New York, and Virginia.

If you experience any symptoms like a rash or fever, consult your doctor and let them know you've been bitten.

Preventing Ticks

Chances are you'll hike the entire Appalachian Trail without having a tick burrow into you, but with a few precautions, you can reduce your risk of getting Lyme Disease to nearly zero.

Do a daily tick check

Full disclosure, the longer I went without seeing a tick the less frequently I would do a tick check. Eventually, I only checked after hiking through bushy areas with tall grass or loose dry leaves on the ground. My laziness aside, daily checks are by far the best way to prevent the spread of Lyme Disease. It generally takes at least 24-48 hours for a tick to transmit the disease, so if you're doing daily checks, it's unlikely you'll get it.

Thorough tick checks are important since their saliva has anesthetic properties. That means you won't feel them burrowing or feeding. Additionally, they are hard to find because some, like the deer tick, are as small as a fleck of dirt, which you'll be covered in most of the time. They also have a tendency to search for places on your body that are hard to see without a mirror... and places your friends will not volunteer to check for you.

Bug Repellent

I'll go into this deeper below, but DEET is still the most effective bug repellent. Nothing really comes close in effectiveness, duration of effectiveness, and cost per ounce. There are a lot of home remedy bug repellent myths out there, but none have been shown to be effective for more than a few minutes, if effective at all. Don't waste your time or risk going without an effective treatment. A 23 to 33% DEET solution is the way to go and it's safe if used properly.

Wear Light Colored Clothing

Even though I didn't have any biting ticks on the Appalachian Trail, I did find a couple crawling on my pant legs. It happened after scouring the woods for firewood in Shenandoah National Park. Since I wore light brown khaki pants they were easy to spot.

Walk in the center of trails

Those minuscule SOBs are hanging onto plants with their little legs outstretched waiting for a blood-filled mammal to walk by. Avoid their reach by walking down the center of the trail whenever possible.

Some months are worse than others

Peak tick season starts in late-April to early-May and lasts all through summer. That doesn't mean you won’t get ticks on you in October, though. Actually, that's when I found them on me in Shenandoah. In other words, they are going to be around during your entire hike, but they will probably be worse Late-May through Early-August.

Signs of Lyme Disease

Check out the Centers for Disease Control's web site for more information, but I'll give you a summary. One of the first signs that you have contracted Lyme Disease, which will normally occur 1 to 2 weeks after infection, is the development of a bullseye-shaped rash around the bite, although sometimes there won't be a rash at all. Lack of energy is another common first symptom, but you'll feel that on your hike either way. Other symptoms include fever, chills, headache, stiff neck, swollen lymph nodes, muscle pain, and joint pain.

If you do have symptoms, see a doctor as soon as possible. The longer you go without treatment, the worse symptoms will get and it can get incredibly nasty. If you find a bullseye-shaped rash or feel symptoms of the flu, get checked. If you do pull a tick off your body save it in a Ziploc bag so it can be tested later if symptoms do appear.

(Photo: I forgot bug spray on a trip in Southern Indiana)

Mosquitoes and Black Flies

Even though, you could hike the entire Appalachian Trail without seeing a tick, mosquitoes may become the bane of your existence. I doubt you'll have much trouble with black flies, since they are worst in Maine from Mid-April through Mid-June.

Prevention

There will be days where this seems like an impossible task. There is no way to keep all mosquitoes at bay, but you can prevent them from driving you crazy.

Bug repellent

As I said previously, the most effective bug sprays on the market contain 23% to 33% DEET. Several studies, and my own personal experience, have shown that a higher concentration is basically just as effective. I also use Permethrin on clothes, but more on that in a bit.

I used to carry a 1 oz. eyedropper of 100% DEET oil, but sprays seem to be more effective. The eyedropper is ultralight, but this is where I'll sacrifice a couple ounces. Your happiness and sanity do have value after all. Many people use the eyedropper method by putting a few drops on the back of their neck, lower legs, wrists, and other strategic places, but it is believed that DEET works by surrounding you in a vapor that disrupts the bug's ability to sense humans and other animals. In my opinion, a few drops here and there just don't seem to create enough of this vapor barrier. Some people attract mosquitoes more than others, though, so my experience may not be the same as someone else's. I draw them in like I'm their mecca.

When using DEET, avoid getting it in your eyes, ears, nose, or on water bottles and food. Also, DEET can dissolve certain plastics, rayon, spandex, and other synthetic fabrics such as the lining in some raincoats. Be careful not to get it on the palms of your hands, so you don't ruin any gear. Since ticks and mosquitoes aren't much of a concern during a rainstorm, wipe any DEET off your skin that may come in contact with the lining of your rain gear before putting it on. A gear expert said DEET was the reason my Marmot raincoat lining was peeling off.

Is DEET safe?

DEET sounds horrible, right? After all, it can breakdown certain plastics and synthetic materials. You’re probably thinking, why would I want to put something like that on my skin?! Well, Vodka, vinegar, and Coca-Cola can dissolve a number of things too, but they won’t harm your skin.

It’s not hard to find someone who believes anything unnatural is going to kill you slowly, but if used properly DEET is safe. Of course, nothing is 100% safe, but don’t forget we are using them to avoid things like Lyme Disease, Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and West Nile Virus, which are far worse.

That said, using it properly is not always convenient on a long distance trail. For example, using it properly means you need to wash it off your skin at the end of the day. Since showers are rare on the AT, and since you don’t want to get DEET in the aquatic ecosystem, you’ll need to go at least 200 feet from a water source to rinse it off. Since mosquitoes are only a problem in warm weather, you won't have to worry about rinsing off when it's dangerously cold. Also, rinsing off is a good practice anyway since cleaning up at the end of the day will make you feel, smell, and sleep better.

Another potential concern is that most people aren't using DEET heavily for 5 months in a row, so I'm not sure long-term exposure has been thoroughly tested. It wouldn't surprise me if regular long-term use had some negative health effects, so I try to use it in moderation and sometimes switch to a less effective non-DEET repellent when mosquitoes aren't as bad. I'm not suggesting these non-DEET sprays are healthier, but I feel like it can't hurt to avoid using too much of any one chemical.

Non-DEET Repellents

Permethrin – Prior to hiking in tick or mosquito season, I apply Permethrin to my clothes. This is not to be used on skin, but it can be effective on clothes for weeks even after numerous washes. If you’re in a buggy area, consider reapplying after about six washes. Of course, follow all directions on the bottle.


Lemon Eucalyptus – Don’t let the name fool you, just because something is natural, that doesn't mean it’s 100% safe. All the same safety rules apply with all bug repellents. It won’t damage plastics like DEET, but it also doesn't last as long. I found it to be nearly as effective as DEET-based repellents for about 15-30 minutes then starts to wear off quickly, whereas DEET is effective for five hours or more.

Picaridin is another pesticide that does not damage plastics, but its effectiveness seems to be about the same as Lemon Eucalyptus.

One final tip, apply sunscreens before applying bug sprays.

Home-remedies

I've heard of several home remedies for repelling ticks and mosquitoes, but at best, they only work for a few minutes and are not even that effective to begin with. I've heard of using dryer sheets, Vaporub, vanilla, smoke, garlic, vitamin pills, or other odor-masking items ingested or rubbed onto the skin. One I hear about often is Avon Skin-So-Soft, but it’s effectiveness only lasts about ten minutes whereas DEET can last five hours.

One reason that simply masking your odor doesn't work is that odor is not the only way mosquitoes detect humans. The primary way is from our exhaled carbon dioxide, which they can detect up to 100 feet way. They can also detect sweat, moisture, body heat, and lactic acid.

If someone wants to cover themselves in moose dung and spaghetti-os to repeal mosquitoes and ticks, be my guest, but we are talking about preventing horrible diseases and maintaining a certain level of enjoyment and sanity in the outdoors. Until something proves to be as effective and safe as DEET, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.

Mosquito Netting

This is the only effective non-chemical way to repeal mosquitoes that I'm aware of.

Poisonous Plants

VM: Can poisonous plants keep spreading if contacted with the rest of your gear?

I’m not the best source for this question, because I believe I’m one of the lucky immune few, so I haven’t done a lot of research on the subject.

Nevertheless, the answer is yes. It is possible for the plant oils that cause the allergic reaction, called urushiol, to get on your gear and spread to other people or other parts of your body. You have to come in contact with the urushiol, however, to have the allergic reaction.

Once you have rinsed the affected area of your skin, you’ll no longer be able to spread it. It can stick to gear pretty well though, and may still be able to cause an allergic reaction a year later. Washing the gear with a grease-cutting soap is probably your best bet. Dawn Dish Soap is the cheapest and easiest to find on the trail.

Of course, it’s best to avoid it in the first place. Learn to identify the plants. Remember the old adage, “Leaves of three, leave them be.” That’s a good place to start as leaves on both Poison Ivy and Poison Oak have three leaflets.

Also watch out for any plants with: shiny leaves, hairy leaves or stems (check under the leaf as well), or any plant with red stems, twigs, branches, or red hairy vines. Also avoid any plant that has a milky sap, umbrella-like flower, or pungent smell.

If walking through an overgrown area, wear long sleeves and pants. If you're highly allergic, consider carrying an ivy block barrier.

For more information on this topic, please check out the poison ivy page at the American Academy of Dermatology web site.

(Photo: Unidentified Snake)

Other Pests

Snakes

I only saw one venomous snake on the Appalachian Trail. I nearly stepped on a Timber Rattler in near Delaware Water Gap. I was on Rattlesnake Mountain at the time, so I guess it shouldn't have been a surprise.

I'm not a snake expert, but you can prevent confrontations by avoiding tall grass, watching your step, and checking before you stick your hand into a crevasse. If you're cowboy camping under the stars, avoid sleeping near their territory: beside a log, in tall grass, or along rock crevasses. Keep your tent zipped up when you're not around.

Shelter Rodents

Other than mosquitoes, the most common annoyance with pests on the trail is the theft of food and the damage done to your gear when they are trying to get to your food. Not just shelter rodents, but bears, porcupines, possums, and raccoons as well. This is preventable though.

Nearly every shelter will have ropes on the ceiling to hang your food. They'll have something like a tin can halfway up the rope to keep rodents from crawling down to your food bag. Always use these or hang your food in a tree or bear pole.

If you leave your gear behind even for a few minutes, something might come by and chew a hole into your backpack. This happened to me on the Wonderland Trail. If you set your pack down for an extended amount of time, carry your food with you. I use a homemade drawstring backpack for food now, so I can easily carry it with me if I want to leave my gear behind while I go down a side trail or summit a mountain.

Black Bears

This could be it's own post, but I'll be brief. I don't generally classify a bear as a pest, but I do classify anything that can rip open your pack and eat your food as a pest. To prevent issues, remember these simple rules...

Black Bears (which are the only bears you will encounter on the AT) are very skittish and will generally run away if they hear you coming. Don't surprise them though, or they may react defensively. Before turning a corner, or cresting a hill, make noise by singing or talking. Bear bells or clicking your trekking poles together might have some effect, but are not as effective as the human voice.

When camping in bear country, hang your food and other scented items from a tree or bear pole at least ten feet above the ground. Never cook or store food near your tent and keep a clean camp or shelter.

The highest concentration of bears on the Appalachian Trail is in the Delaware Water Gap area (around the border of New Jersey and Pennsylvania) and Shenandoah National Park, so be extra cautious in those locations.

For more information and what to do if you encounter a Black Bear, check out the National Park Service's bear safety tips.


More Q&As with Victor:

Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Mount Rainier from the Wonderland Trail

I took this photo in Mount Rainier National Park while hiking the Wonderland Trail in 2012. You can support my blog by ordering a print in my Etsy store. Use coupon code 5OFF2013 and receive $5 off any purchase of $15 or more.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

As I ventured to the north side of the Wonderland loop, it seemed more and more like I hopped into the pages of a children’s illustrated book of fairy tales. A land created by artists, not natural processes. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere and lush green plants and moss grew everywhere else.

At Mystic Lake, my view of Rainier was as close as ever. I got a better feel for how massive it is. I could now see cliffs of ice, several stories high, which formed where immense glaciers cracked and tumbled down the mountain. Eventually, I was close enough to see the thin meandering trails left by mountaineers climbing to its peak.

After setting up camp in a thick pine forest, I leaned against a log, ate dinner, and read a book. Through the trees, I heard pops, bangs, and cracks coming from Rainier. I wondered if the melting glaciers were cracking apart or if the swelled creeks from the melting snow and ice were tossing huge boulders downstream like billiard balls.

Soon, the crack of lightning joined the percussive sounds coming from Rainier. The sky above me still had a lot of blue behind nonthreatening white clouds, but Mount Rainier is so big it has its own weather.

It is definitely one of Earth’s great mountains.

The next morning I walked out of the pines and got this gorgeous open view. I stopped for a photo. An adventurous older man walked by and stopped. After we shared a silent moment staring at Rainier, I asked, "You ever think of hiking to the peak?"

He looked at the mountain reverently as though contemplating it for a bit then exhaled and said, "No."

"I think I do," I said.

Even though I crossed the Wonderland Trail from my life list, I added "Climb to the Top of Mount Rainier." Will this list ever get any shorter? If I don't stop adding to my list of things to do before I die, I don't think I'll ever get around to dying.

  

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Chipmunk Near Trail Ridge Road

I snapped this photo in Rocky Mountain National Park near Trail Ridge Road. Prints of this photo can be purchased in my Etsy store.  Use coupon code 5OFF2013 to receive $5 off any purchase of $15 or more.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...
A friend and I took a trip to Rocky Mountain National Park right after they opened Trail Ridge Road, the highest highway in the USA. The road reaches a height of 12,183 feet. At just over 11,000 feet we pulled over at a turnout to stretch our legs and look at the view.

We were high above the treeline and the road had only been cleared for tourists for a couple days, yet dozens of chipmunks still knew right where to go to flash their big glossy eyes at snack-carrying tourists.

I don't feed the animals, as it's rightfully against the park rules, however another motorist did. I saw that it was about to happen, so I got my camera ready. I walked by, reached out, and quickly snapped his photograph.

Little did I know that months later this photo, along with a photo of me, would be on the cover of the Indianapolis Star. It won first place in their 2010 Travel Photo Contest and was feature in numerous sites online. Consequently, this is my most viewed photo to date.

Is it strange that a part of me wishes the chipmunk knew how much people like his picture?

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Mountain Goat at Hidden Lake

My 500th post! Here is another picture from Glacier National Park that you can download for your computer's desktop. Prints of this photo can be purchased in my Etsy store. Use coupon code 5OFF2013 to receive $5 off any purchase of $15 or more.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

In Logan Pass, where snow can drift up to 80 feet high in winter, I pulled off of the Going-to-the-Sun Road to stretch my legs on a 3-mile hike to Hidden Lake. When the lake was in view, the sun was about to tuck in behind the mountains. The color in the sky warmed up a bit and rays of light shone through the clouds and reached between the mountains toward the lake. I setup my tripod for a picture.

While looking through my camera’s eyepiece, I heard hooves on the rocks behind me. A mountain goat stood a few feet away. It stopped to stare at me. Soon it was joined by another goat, then a baby, then suddenly a half dozen were walking all around me. My camera never clicked so much.

The goat in this picture walked away from the crowd and just stared out at the view. After I got the shot, he lay on the ground and stayed there long after all the other goats left. It’s as though he only came out for the view and didn't want to leave until the sun fully set. If that were the case, we had something in common.

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Q&A: Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail

(Photo: The AT in November, Tennessee)

Sitting at my computer to write about backpacking helps get me through winter, so I'm happy to report that Victor has more questions about his upcoming thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. His adventure will begin March 28th, 2013. Follow his progress at BackpackingAT.com.

VM: Okay, so now that I am in Chicago for the next month and have survived two blizzards with names already, I have been thinking a lot about the snow... Rumor has it we may encounter snow for the first couple of weeks and the last couple of weeks during our hike. Granted it's just frozen rain, but what things should we prepare for (mentally, physically, and with gear,) in terms of making sure we are ready to handle this type of weather?

RG: You will likely have to hike in some snow and sleep in freezing temperatures, but since you're hiking the AT from April to August, you’ll probably miss all the heavy stuff.

The weather usually turns mild in the Smokies by mid-April. It can snow at high altitudes any time of year in New Hampshire and Maine, but their heavy snow doesn't usually fall before October.

That said, you don't need a blizzard to be concerned about the weather. Hypothermia, for example, is a concern even above freezing temperatures. Know the signs and begin your hike with warmer gear than you think you'll need. It's always best to err on the side of caution in the beginning. Don't worry about the end of your trip right now, because once you made it all the way to New Hampshire, you'll know what to do.

Even though you'll miss the heavy snow season, you'll still have your fair share of nasty weather. It’s inevitable on such a long trip. You don’t have the luxury of choosing the most pleasant time of year to be in a particular area.

There were downpours in Maine and New Hampshire that turned the trail into a cascading stream in minutes. I sprinted across mountain balds toward the safety of trees with lightning cracking above my head. We hunkered down in a high mountain shelter while Hurricane Irene decimated the small towns down river. Floods from Tropical Storm Lee knocked down footbridges which forced me to wade through knee-high water and slog through thick mud that threatened to suck the shoes off my feet.

(Photo: Frozen shoe)

By December in the Smokies, it got so cold that after I accidentally stepped in a creek hidden under snow and ice, my shoestrings froze instantly. When I got to the shelter, I had to grasp them in my fists to thaw them out before I could take my shoes off my stinging cold feet.

Surprisingly, I love all of those experiences. They are all  part of the adventure. Anyway, it's not the short-term extreme weather that has the most potential to crush your morale on the AT. It's the long stretches of unrelenting rain, especially when it's cold.

The good news is there is a lot you can do to keep spirits high. My first tip probably seems a bit obvious:

Check the forecast every few days...

Sixteen miles into our day on the Long Trail in Vermont, Red and I stopped at a shelter for water. The forecast said nasty weather was coming our way. We filled our bottles in a creek then sat in the shelter to eat a quick snack. 

The sky was dark even though we had two hours until sunset. A light sprinkle started to fall and thunder rolled overhead. 

“So what do you think?”

By this point, we could read each other’s minds well enough to leave the next question unspoken, “Do we stay here or head to the next shelter?” It was six miles away and nine to the next road. 

It was cold and we hadn't seen two consecutive days without rain in two weeks. My injured knee ached worse than ever. Needless to say, my morale was low.

I wanted to stop for the night, but the forecast said the worst of the storm would begin at midnight and continue through the following day. There would be high winds and heavy rain until temperatures dropped below freezing. By morning, there would be sleet, ice, and possibly snow. It was too late to get to the road before dark and even though hitching is easy during the day, nobody has ever offered to pick me up at night. 

“If we go to the next shelter, we’ll only have three miles to hike in the morning then we can wait it out in town.”

So that’s what we did. Since we knew the forecast, we were able to avoid the worst of the weather and get our spirits back up. If I'm remembering this right, we ended up staying with someone in a social house at Burlington University during pledge week.

That leads me to my second bit of advice:

Treat morale as though it needs to be nurtured as much as health and hunger.

(Photo: Lightfoot's Frozen Beard, October in Virginia)

Thinking of the number of miles you have to Maine can be daunting at times, especially in bad weather. Try to only focus on getting to the next resupply town. And remember that on such a long trail, nothing stays the same very long. The terrain and weather could be different the next day. Here are a few other ways to help morale on the trail:

• Carry an extra day of food if bad weather could be headed your way. You may want to have the option to take a day off or wait out a morning rain storm.

• Hitch into town. If a long stretch of rain or cold weather has you down, drying your clothes in a laundromat then eating a hot meal can go a long way to turning that around. Actually when you're living a deprived life on the trail, simple things like that can turn a horrible mood into a deliriously happy one.

• Share misery with others. Bad weather is a lot easier to deal with when you're sitting in a shelter at the end of the day sharing it with others. It usually just turns into something to laugh at.

• Sing as you hike like nobody can hear you. There is a good chance nobody can anyway, especially during a hard rain. I sang a lot on the trail. My playlist often included Driting by Pearl Jam, King of the Road by Roger Miller, Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show, and for some reason Fat-Bottom Girls by Queen.

• Listen to music on your phone or MP3 player. It has the power to get you up the next mountain or just take your mind off of pain and discomfort. On a bad day, sometimes I listened to a storytelling podcast like This American Life, The Moth, or NPR's Snap Judgement.

• Build a campfire.

• Pack plenty of comfort food. If you're not looking forward to another pot of ramen noodles at the end of the day, your food can do very little to put you in a better mood.

• Change your gear. If it isn't cutting it or not keeping you warm enough, there are many outfitters along the trail. Of course, it's always best to avoid gear issues before you head to Springer, so here are some suggestions:

Gear

In the beginning, if you're not sure what you'll need to stay warm enough, pack extra. You can always send unneeded gear home later or leave it in a hiker box. Being cold is worse than a pack that is one or two pounds heavier, in my opinion.

Clothing

The first commandment of backpacking is, “Thou Shalt Not Wear Cotton.” Many inexperienced backpackers have come down a mountain with that commandment metaphorically chiseled in stone. Cotton gets heavy when wet and takes forever to dry.

(Photo: Bandanna as a scarf)

Dress in layers. Your hiker smell will bring tears to people's eyes, so why not dress like an onion too? This will make it easier to regulate your body temperature. I wear merino wool thermals under my regular hiking clothes, and an insulated vest or fleece over that. A quality rain jacket and rain pants are a must in cold weather, too. They won't necessarily keep you dry, but they will help a lot by blocking the wind. I also carry a pair of gloves, sock hat, and I a couple bandannas that I used like scarves to keep my face warm and prevent snow and wind from getting down my shirt collar.

One final thing about clothes, never let yourself sweat that much in cold weather. Sweat can kill if the temperature is low enough. It's far better to shed a few layers of clothing before you begin hiking, even if you're a little bit cold at first.

Waterproof Stuff Sacks and Bag Liners

On our second day, a fellow thru-hiker slipped while fording our first river in Maine. His bag went into the water. That's when we learned he didn't have anything waterproofed. His sleeping bag, tent, digital camera, and all of his clothes were soaked. The camera never worked again and that night, while trying to dry his clothes over a fire, he burned holes in his socks, shoes, and sleeping bag. To his credit, this seemed to have no negative effect on his mood, but it could have been easily avoided.

I use a trash compactor bag as a pack liner (click here) and keep my sleeping bag in a waterproof stuff sack for added protection. My camera and other sensitive gear is stored in Ziploc bags. I don't bother with a pack rain cover anymore. I find them to be quite useless except for protecting your backpack while bushwhacking.

Sleeping Bag

If you're cold at night, consider replacing your sleeping bag or buying a sleeping bag liner.The latter will only add 5-10 degrees of warmth, but has other benefits as well (click here). For me, sleeping bag temperature ratings are about 15 degrees lower than what I find comfortable, but it's different for everyone.

Wet feet

Hiking for days with wet feet is not fun, to say the least. I usually carry three pairs of socks, so I can be sure to have a dry pair at the end of the day and in the morning. One of the three is a pair of toe sock liners that I wear when my feet get wet. Wet socks chafe the tops of my toes until they have been rubbed painfully raw. That was one of my biggest foot issues on the AT. The toe sock liners eliminated this problem.

You will ford a few rivers and creeks, especially in the north. Since it might be cold when you're up there, consider packing a pair of lightweight shoes to ford in like Crocs. Going barefoot in some of these boulder-filled creek beds is a broken ankle waiting to happen and you don't want to soak your only pair of hiking boots on a cold day. Crocs are cheap, light, and available in many stores along the way.

Daytime temperatures never dropped very far below 25 degrees when I was on the AT, so I never really had cold feet until I got to camp. It doesn't take long to realize how cold it is once you stop moving and nightime temperatures got as low as 15 degrees. It's good to have a dry pair of socks ready to put on.

Drying Your Socks

Before bed, I dry out the wet pair by first wringing them out as best I can. I spread a camp towel out on the ground, put my socks on top, and then roll them up like a burrito... a repulsive, smelly burrito. Then I squeeze that or walk on it to draw the water out of my socks and into the towel. This works best if you carry a super-absorbent camp towel, like this one, or get a shammy at a dollar store to save money. Finally, put the damp socks in your sleeping bag at night and your body heat will dry them out by morning.

Gaiters

Gaiters can help keep snow out of your shoes, but I have never bothered with them. My friend Lightfoot had some success by just tying his bandannas around the tops of his shoes and ankles. They'll still get wet, but they'll keep the bulk of the snow out. It helps to have a couple safety pins to secure them. Bandannas are one of the most versatile things you can carry and I also use the safety pins to pin wet clothes to the outside of my pack or to a clothesline to dry.

Waterproof Boots

I personally avoid waterproof boots or shoes. I can see their utility in more extreme conditions, but when you're hiking all day in the snow or rain, your feet will get wet no matter what shoes you wear. If not with rain water, than with sweat. Waterproof boots can also take longer to dry, so I think it's better to just go with shoes that dry quickly.

Other tips for Dry Feet

My friends Sam and Liv showed me that newspaper stuffed into a wet shoe overnight will help dry it out. The paper also works as fire starter and I suppose reading the news, but the news really doesn't belong out there.

You can put a plastic grocery bag, or even better a bread or tortilla bag, between two layers of socks to keep your feet dry and warm. Not a great solution for hiking all day since it doesn't allow your foot to breath, but it works well at camp or when hiking short distances. If one of those socks is a thin sock liner, it will keep your shoes from being too tight.

You can do the same with a pair of latex gloves under your regular gloves.

(Photo: Slippery Trail)

Hiking on Snow and Ice

Hiking in snow is considerably more exhausting since it is harder to get traction. Consequently, when planning your day, expect to either hike longer or hike shorter distances.

Trekking Poles 

Although an ice ax and crampons are not needed during April and August on the AT, some sections could be hazardous when covered in ice or snow. This is why I recommend trekking poles. They also help you move quicker over snow and ice.

(Photo: The AT in Late-October, Virginia)

Other suggestions

Pack a hot beverage. It can warm you up quite a bit before bed. In cold weather I think I enjoy the  steaming hot mug in my hands more than the drink itself.

Pack a few hand warmers, just in case. I never used them during the day, but if the cold kept me awake at night, I would place one on my chest or near my feet in my sleeping bag. Just don't fall asleep with them directly on your skin or they could uhh... actually just click here and read this short cautionary tale.

(Photo: The Beard)

When it comes to successfully completing the AT, keeping your spirits up on a miserable day is more important than getting the miles you need that day. As long as you haven't allowed yourself to fall too far behind schedule, you'll make up those miles. Whenever you’re calculating the average miles you need to finish by your deadline, subtract a few days from that date, so you won’t feel rushed toward the end. If you do start thinking about stopping, don't make that decision when you're miserable or you might regret it. Take some time off and make the decision when you're happy, warm, and the sky is blue.

Sorry that was so long, but luckily the extra length means I have room for one more photo. Since I'm talking about snow I'm posting this one of me again. How glorious is that beard? I mean honestly.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Helen Lake

Here is another photo you can download for your computer's desktop. I also took this in Glacier National Park in 2012.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...

“The guidebook calls it desolate,” said a passing ranger when I told him where I was headed. “But you be the judge.”

I hiked south along the shore of Elizabeth Lake, passed campsites all occupied with tents, then through wildflowers where butterflies perched. They fluttered about when I passed as though a gust of wind blew the flower petals off and whirled them around me. Beyond Elizabeth Lake, the trail became more overgrown and unkempt.

As I moved forward, I had to part a sea of tall grasses and green leaves that had grown higher than my waist. Much of the trail would have been invisible if not for a depression in the overgrowth leading the way. The head and back of a deer swam by like the world’s most passive crocodile, followed by two fawns barely able to keep their eyes above the green. I wouldn't call the region desolate, though. I prefer overlooked and secluded, two great qualities for a trail to have.

I knew I was close when I began to hear the Belly River, which begins at Helen Lake. I stopped to listen to it with my eyes shut. I absorbed every other sound as well, the beating of insect wings, the wind hissing between branches of pine, three different types of birds chirping: some rapid cheeps, some sporadic elongated whistles.

When I arrived at Helen Lake, I stood at its shore before taking off my pack and setting up camp. I balanced myself on flat rocks to keep the small ripples from soaking my feet and snapped this picture. Lush green hills and the sheer rocky face of Ahern peak, 3,700 feet above me, enclosed the back half of the lake. Ribbons of water from the melting Ahern Glacier fell over and down the mountainside accumulating in the clear blue pool.

Only four extra miles from the crowded Elizabeth Lake campsites to Helen Lake, and I’m all alone. That’s the real reason this site is overlooked and isolated, the extra miles. The solitude was worth every additional step.

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Photography: Going to the Sun Road

Here is a free photo you can download for your Windows desktop. I took it in Glacier National Park in 2012. If you're using Internet Explorer or Firefox, just right-click the photo and click "Set as background." Chrome users can download the photo by right-clicking it and selecting, "Save image as."

Prints of this photo can be purchased in my Etsy store.

THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO...
If you're only going to have one road go through the heart of Glacier National Park, it's only fitting if the project is big and the result is stunningly beautiful. This was successfully accomplished in 1932 with the grand opening of the Going-to-the-Sun Road. 

During a three-month road trip out west last summer, I just finished a week backpacking through Glacier National Park. I wasn't looking forward to leaving, but I still had my drive out on the infamous road to look forward to.

Its allure has compelled many filmmakers to shoot footage of the road for their movies. It can be seen in the opening credits of “The Shining,” as Jack is presumably driving to the Overlook Hotel. It also appears in a scene in “Forrest Gump.” When Forest reminisces with Jenny about running across the United States, he says, "Like that mountain lake... it was so clear, Jenny. It looked like there were two skies, one on top of the other." The footage was of him running on the Going-to-the-Sun Road in front of a lake after the sun dropped below the mountains. The sky was that shade of blue that lingers around a bit before turning completely black. A field of golden grasses is swirling around in the wind.

I've seen that movie a dozen times and every time I watched that scene I thought of my own dream of living a nomadic life. I wanted my life to be that simple. Could I find myself in such beautiful places at such the right time?

The road is only 53 miles long, but I stopped so much that dusk loomed with several miles left to drive. I needed one last photo of the sunset. I looked up at the sky anxiously while I drove, waiting for the perfect spot. There wasn't much time left. The road took a bend to the right, then left, and I saw that scene above.

The section of road was under construction, so I parked my beaten down Honda between bulldozers on a makeshift parking lot made for the construction vehicles. I grabbed my camera. Since I felt like I might have been trespassing, I sprinted up the road and through the field until I was standing in a good spot.

I was in the right place, at the right time.

The anxiety of not getting a good photo before sunset melted away. I felt satisfied with the images now hidden away in the camera that I clutched to my chest as I ran back to my car. I drove out of the park that night and headed toward my next adventure.

Q&A: Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail

(Photo: Jeffers Brook Shelter, New Hampshire)

This is my fourth and final question from 2013 Appalachian Trail thru-hiker Victor Maisano. He and his friends will be heading to Springer Mountain in March. Follow their progress at BackpackingAT.com

Shelters Vs. Tents

Victor: We are planning to do this hike in a little over 5 months as all people in our hiking party have obligations right after. With that said, do you think there is an advantage for people who tent the whole trail (vs. sleeping in shelters) as they are able to get a couple more miles of hiking in as there are more places to camp and you’re not as confined to a certain distance?

(Photo: Overmountain Shelter, Tennessee)

Me: First, here is an overview for people unfamiliar with the Appalachian Trail shelters. There are over 260 shelters along the AT (all built by volunteers). Most are three-walled lean-tos similar to the photo above. You will also see some with four walls, a couple are cabins, a few have fireplaces, some have bunk beds (i.e. hiker shelves), one is an old barn, and many you'll want to stay in simply for their uniqueness.

(Photo: Chatfield Memorial Shelter, Virginia)

Most of the shelters have a fire ring, pit toilet, and some kind of water source nearby: a creek, spring, pond, etc. The average distance between shelters is only 8.5 miles, so other than a couple long stretches, they are close enough that you could easily hike the entire Appalachian Trail without a tent.

A few of the shelters in New Hampshire and Vermont have fees, but nearly all of them are free of charge. New Hampshire has some other differences that I’ll talk more about below.

(Photo: The 501 Shelter, Pennsylvania)

Will shelters reduce the number of miles you hike?

Overall, I'd say no. More often than not, they pushed me to go further. If I knew a shelter was only a few more miles ahead, I'd keep going even if I was ready to stop.

I also didn't mind hiking to a shelter well after dark, because I didn't have to worry about finding a campsite and a water source before sundown. You'll also spend less time taking down camp in the morning if you stay in a shelter.

(Photo: Spruce Peak Cabin, Vermont. My favorite Shelter!)

Another reason to stay in shelters is to get to know other thru-hikers. Even though I guarantee you’ll have some snorers, and a few mice, you'll meet a lot of great people in AT shelters. If you’re as lucky as me, you’ll find some of your best friends in there. (I'm talking about you, Drifters. You know who you are.)

There is nothing like the shelter system on the AT, and in my opinion, they are an essential part of the full AT experience.

(Photo: Shelter with a loft in Virginia)

Having said all that, you may want to tent more often in the first couple of weeks. The trail might be crowded for you in the beginning, since a majority of thru-hikers start at Springer Mountain in March. During this time, some hikers will end days early to guarantee a spot in a shelter, and many will end their days earlier at first until they are in better shape and have reduced their pack weight.

It won’t be crowded for long, though. Hikers will eventually put more distance between one another and as many as one-fourth will drop out in the first two weeks.

(Photo: Smoky Mountain Shelter, in Tennessee, with a fireplace)

Another reason to occasionally skip the shelters is that some of your best memories will come from things like cowboy camping under the stars on a treeless mountaintop, spending a night alone deep in the woods, or finding a stealthy place to sleep in a town.

(Photo: Slept behind an abandoned bank in NH)

New Hampshire

New Hampshire has some differences that I wanted to point out. First, don’t plan on hiking through the whole state of New Hampshire without a tent, unless you want to pay. There are numerous campsites, shelters, and huts in New Hampshire that have a fee, primarily around the White Mountains. Although, you don't have to stay at these pay sites. There are plenty of free places to camp, as long as you are below tree line.

(Photo: NH's Zealand Hut)

The hut system in New Hampshire is unique to the AT as well. They are small cabins or lodges in the White Mountains. They can cost over $100 per night, which includes dinner and breakfast, but if you get to one early enough you might be able to do “work-for-stay.”

The caretakers will usually let two to four thru-hikers in the huts for free, as long as you stick around to wash dishes, make beds, sweep the floors, or give a talk to their guests about your experiences on the AT.

(Photo: Red giving a speech for his work-for-stay)

The best part is they’ll also feed you for free. Since the huts are in the middle of protected forests, the caretakers have to carry out all the leftovers. They really don’t want to do that, so they'd prefer to let you eat them. Even if you don’t do work-for-stay, they may give you some leftovers if you stop in and ask. Actually, I met one hiker whose only work-for-stay job was to eat all the ham they had left!

Tips for getting work-for-stay

You can increase your chances of getting work-for-stay if you arrive early, but not too early.  If they think you have enough time to get to the next hut, they'll tell you to keep going. If you get there too late, other thru-hikers will beat you to it. So, lets say, you stop at a hut that is six miles from the next hut. They will probably start accepting work-for-stay two to three hours before sundown.

If there are still four of you in the group when you get to New Hampshire, you will have better luck if you split up into two groups of two. If you don't get work-for-stay, ask them if you can setup camp nearby and at least work for a meal.

The best hut for northbounders to stay at is the Lake of the Clouds hut. It's located at the base of Mount Washington, and the remaining section of trail in the Presidential Range. Since you can't camp above tree line in this area, it's a great place to end your day, so you can easily get through this section by nightfall the following day. The good news is, this hut allows ten hikers to stay in their basement (lovingly called The Dungeon). Additionally, because of its location, northbounders will get dibs.

(Photo: Red doing work-for-stay)

My final tip, if you do get work-for-stay, go out of your way to do a great job and you might be able to guarantee a spot in one of the other huts. The caretakers at the Mizpah Hut gave Red and I the task of shaking the dust out of all their blankets, sweeping the floors afterwards, and then folding the blankets. Two hours later, they told us we worked long enough and could leave, but we insisted on staying until the job was done. Before we left, they asked if we could deliver a sealed note to the next hut.

(Photo: White Mountain Hostel in NH. My favorite hostel anywhere.)

When we arrived, there were already four thru-hikers out front who said the hut was full. Red and I walked in to deliver the note to a caretaker. He read it then looked up and said, “So, do you guys want to stay here tonight?”

Red happened to get a look at the note. It said, “These guys do kick ass work!”

(Photo: Slept in a dugout in Maine)

In Conclusion

So, my recommendation is to mix it up. Experience it all. Stay in shelters, setup camps next to sunset views, cowboy camp around a fire, sleep on mountain tops without a tent and fall asleep while staring at the stars. When in town, find random places to sleep, stay in hostels. or split the cost of a hotel room with other hikers. It's also likely that you'll meet strangers along the way and get invited to stay in their homes.

(Photo: Some of my favorite people I met in a shelter)

As long as you occasionally calculate the average daily miles you need to finish by your deadline, you’ll naturally do what you have to do to finish. Nothing will compare to the emotion you will feel when you get to Katahdin, but that isn’t the only thing you’ll remember. It will be the people you met and the places you spent the night that you’ll talk about for years.

- - -

Since this is the last question, here are a few last bits of advice.

If you feel terrible, or the weather is making you miserable, take a day or two off. And don't feel guilty about it. A day off is better than being so miserable that you think about going home. I found that once that thought got into a thru-hiker's mind, it was only a matter of time before they headed home.

Avoid Branchville, New Jersey. It seems like a convenient place to resupply, but just walk on by. Especially the Joe-to-Go coffee and sandwich shop. He has a well-known reputation for despising hikers and treating them like garbage. There are forums at whiteblaze.net devoted to altercations with that guy.

Take pictures of people. Landscape shots are great, but after your hike, you'll be glad you took photos of the people you met. They, more than the views and the miles, will define your experience on the AT.

Finally, don't skip any miles. They say about 1 in 5 will finish the trail, but it's actually much less than that. Most hikers I met skipped large sections of trail. The feeling at the end will be much greater if you know you passed every white blaze.

I had to skip a section after damage from Hurricane Irene closed down the Green Mountains National Forest. I regretted it the whole trip. I wished I would have risked the $5000 fine that they threatened to impose if we were caught in the park. I eventually went back the following April and finished that section when I hiked the Long Trail in Vermont. That turned my disappointment into another great trip, so I don't regret it anymore. However, if you're ever tempted to skip even one mile, ask yourself how you'd feel if you stopped one mile from Katahdin.

Victor, thanks for giving me the opportunity to answer your questions and good luck on your journey! It will be one of the most memorable five months of your life. I look forward to reliving the experience through your stories.

Once again, you can follow Victor and his friends on their AT journey at BackpackingAT.com.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail


  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Q&A: Knives on the Appalachian Trail

(Photo: The knife I now carry,  the popular Swedish Military Mora Knife)

Here is the third question from Victor Maisano, 2013 Appalachian Trail thru-hiker. 

Follow Victor's progress at BackpackingAT.com

Knives on the AT

Victor: How many knives do you need to bring on the AT? As an Eagle Scout and He-Man fan, I love playing with knives. I am thinking about bringing a multi-tool (Skeletol), a small serrated pocketknife, and perhaps a large blade (Buck knife) to be strapped to my backpack for defense and possibly splitting wood. Do you think that is overkill? 

Me: Generally, anything redundant on a long-distance hike will end up being sent back home or chucked in a hiker box. I cut my toothbrush in half to reduce my pack weight, which I admit is ridiculous. With 300 miles to go, I even sent my tent home to save weight. So, I would choose one knife and maybe consider letting the other people in your group carry the others.

When it comes to gear advice, it's hard to tell another backpacker what they should carry, because gear choices are relative to each hiker's preference. I mean, my He-Man fandom makes me want to ride a green armored tiger down the trail, so clearly we are all unique. If you like to play with knives, whittle, or want to split wood, your needs will be different than mine. Although, to be fair, everyone wants to charge through the woods on the back of a green tiger.

Nevertheless, when choosing gear, it is helpful to learn why hikers do what they do, so I'll stick to that. 

I've carried a few different types of blades on the trails: a multi-tool, lightweight pocket knives, serrated and non-serrated, and a fixed-blade knife, but lately, and more often than not, I just carry a razor blade in my matchbox.

I suspect a lot of people will disagree with me on that, so for the record, I'm not saying there is zero risk in not carrying a proper knife.

I agree that no tool is more useful in a survival situation than a knife. You can use it to build shelter, light a fire, and procure food and water, but on a trail like the AT, it's not likely you'll need it for that. You'll probably see at least one hiker every day, and you'll never be more than a few days from a road or town, as long as you stick to the trail.

So far, regardless of what I've carried, a razor blade is all I've ever really needed. Usually, when I pull out my knife it's to slice a block of cheese or cut cordage or rope. It doesn't mean a knife hasn't been useful for other things, or offered some peace of mind, it's just that I could have always gotten by with a simple razor blade.

That being said, if I'm going into a remote area or if there is a chance I'll be going off-trail, I'll take my 4 oz. Swedish Mora (fixed-blade) knife. This seems to be a very popular knife lately, so I jumped on the bandwagon. It's cheap, lightweight, and has a durable sharp blade that can easily be sharpened in the field.

Defense and Safety

There aren't many wildlife encounters where a knife will be more helpful than learning how to properly handle the situation. For example, click here for the National Park Service guidelines for bear safety. You may have been thinking more about encounters with other humans, though. That is also very rare on the AT, but it happens. It would be a miracle if it never happened, but it is less frequent than if walking down a street. 

So in conclusion, since it's very likely you will be trying to lighten your pack during the first few days or weeks on the trail, to save you the hassle of shipping your other knives back home, my recommendation is to only carry one. Choose the one that you feel offers the best combination of usefulness and lightness. That will probably be the serrated pocketknife, but if you feel better about having the heavier buck knife, by all means, take it. A few ounces are worth the peace of mind. As with all gear, as long as you're thinking about why you are carrying it, and accept the risks of not carrying it, you'll make the right choice for you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go search for He-Man cartoons on You Tube.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Backpacker Glossary: Hiker Box

Hiker Boxes are boxes that you will find along a long-distance trail were you can leave or take supplies. They can be found at hostels, hotels, post offices, outfitters, and other businesses or organizations.

Common things you'll find in a hiker box are:

• Food and other consumables, which are often left if the person was tired of eating something, or brought more than they needed

• Gear someone decided was unnecessary and so just extra weight.

• Temporary gear, such as knee braces, that a hiker only needed for a short time.

Q&A: Hiking With Visitors

(Photo: My sisters on the Appalachian Trail)

Sorry it has taken me so long to post my next Q&A with Victor. I need to hurry because, him and his friends will begin their thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail very soon. Please join me in following their progress at BackpackingAT.com.

I've been working to save money for my next big hike, but right now I'm sitting in a fast food joint eating lunch, so I'm ready to answer another question. I'm really enjoying these posts. I hope Victor is getting as much out of them as I am.

Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail

Victor: It's got to be soooo relieving when you're in the middle of a thru-hike and see family or friends along the way. Now, what if these people joined you for a weekend? Would you imagine this would slow you down immensely or actually be detrimental to the hike overall?

Me: It probably will slow you down, but that's alright. Especially if you have them visit you early in your trip, so you have plenty of time to make up lost miles.

(Photo: One of my sisters trying to get a break by jumping on my other sister's back. It didn't work out.)

Once you've been on the trail for a few weeks, you might be surprised by how many miles you can cover in a day. If you read my older blog posts, you’ll see I was hiking about 8-12 miles a day on my first trips. It makes me smile when I read one of my old journal entries that says, "hiked 14 miles, I'm beat," or "16 miles today! New personal best!" On the AT, my longest day was 32 miles and some hikers will do more than that.

Someone who hasn't been on a trail this much, probably won't be able to keep up.

The good news is, the trail is really long, so it's easy to make up for lost miles. Every once in a while, calculate how many miles you'll need to hike per day to finish by your deadline. It's good to know what that number is, so you don’t have to stress about short days or zero days.

You may have already figured out what "zero days" are, but just in case someone reading has never heard of it, it's what long-distance backpackers call a "day off." It doesn't necessarily mean you didn't hike at all, it just means you made no forward progress on that day.

For your five month deadline, you'll have to average just under 14.5 miles per day. If done early in your hike, you could take a week of zero days and your daily average will only need to increase by about a mile. And I promise, by the time you're halfway through your hike, 15 miles will seem like a short day.

Two of my sisters and my brother-in-law visited me on the AT in Shenandoah National Park. They didn't hike overnight, but we hiked 8 miles together on the second day and I only hiked half days on the days they arrived and left.

At that time, I needed to average 16 miles per day to finish by my deadline (i.e. winter). Their visit probably put me about 16-18 miles behind schedule, but I didn't worry about it, because my normal days were between 16-24 miles at that point. I think I was back on schedule in about three or four days.

I enjoyed the time with my family, we always have a lot of laughs, and I think it made them feel better to know I was safe out there, so it would have been worth it even if it was difficult to get back on schedule. I mean, they bought me pizza, a meal at an all-you-can-eat Japanese grill, and two nights in a hotel. That might seem great now, but wait until you're on the trail for a few months, stuff like that has the potential to make you weep.

Potential Downside

As far as it being detrimental to your hike, it's unlikely if the visits don't take place too close to the end, but a couple other potential issues come to mind.

If someone in your group is thinking about going home, a visit could make the decision to keep hiking a lot harder. Remember only about 1 in 5 who attempt the hike will finish, and you have a group of 4. Even though a visit from friends or family back home could alleviate some feelings of homesickness, it also has the potential to intensify them. And with there being an easy ride home, it could make getting off the trail very tempting.

Another potential downside depends on the kind of experience you’re looking for. I've talked to a lot of long-distance hikers on the trail. Some are there to temporarily escape their normal life. When talking about a visit from people back home, a thru-hiker once said, being on the trail was the best time of his life, but the visit made him feel like he never left home. For him, that was a bad thing. It applied some brakes to the personal progress he had made on the trail.

So, it depends on what you're wanting to get out of your hike. Maybe you want to step out of your normal life and experience something new. That may include spending a few months away from everything normal, including your friends and family. Nothing wrong with that. And even if your intentions are not to escape anything, after a few months (which can feel like a year out there), you may begin to really love your new lifestyle. Your whole outlook on life could change. You might slowly find yourself morphing into a slightly different person. You may not even realize it until you see people from your "normal life." In other words, don't be surprised if a visit sort of throws your new mindset off the rails a bit.

If you do have visitors, I have one final piece of advice...

Give them the closest thing you can to the real AT experience. I assume these visitors will have been following your progress on your blog. They will want to know what life has been like on the AT. In a few short days, it will not be possible to give them the exact experience of months on a trail, but you can give them a sample. Have them stay in a shelter to meet other hikers, and if there is enough time, maybe even hitch into a town so they can see what hitching for a resupply is like.

They may love it or hate it, but at least they will be able to relate when you tell them stories later. And you will be telling them stories for the rest of their lives. Even if they've made it clear they are tired of them, you'll tell them anyway. Trust me. I still find myself saying, "when I was on the trail..." almost every day.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Online Mail Drops on the Appalachian Trail

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Q&A: Online Mail Drops

Victor

Eric

This March, Victor Maisano and three of his friends, will start their journey on the Appalachian Trail. Since many of you started reading my blog during my own AT thru-hike, I thought you might enjoy following his blog at BackpackingAT.com.

Victor and his friends will each be sharing their experiences through several social media outlets, like Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus, YouTube, Pintrest, and Instagram.

Lauren

Victor says, "I like to think of it as a true reality show."

Every Appalachian Trail adventure is unique, so even though you might see or hear about some familiar places, I can assure you their story will be one that only they can tell.

Bo

I met Victor through Twitter. He asked me a few questions about my experience on the Appalachian Trail and agreed to let me reply to them here. I was going to answer all four questions on one post, but I can't seem to keep my answers short. This may come as a surprise, but I love to ramble on and on about backpacking.

Victor's first question is about resupplying along the trail, and he brings up an interesting idea...

Victor: What if we purchased food from large [online] retailers and have them delivered to us on the trail. Since we would be purchasing for 4 people, we could easily make the free shipping quota and get food at a lower cost than we would in a local town. Other than stating the obvious of not having a signal on some parts of the trail, what would be wrong with this idea?

Me: If you don't mind the extra planning that comes with food drops, ordering online isn't a bad idea, and actually offers some benefits over the traditional mail drop. My short answer is that unless you have special dietary needs, medications, or are a vegetarian; mail drops on the AT are more hassle than they are worth.

One of the greatest things about life on the AT, is the freedom you feel while living such a life. After a few weeks, you won’t know if it's a Monday or a Saturday, and most importantly, you won't care. It is a great feeling. It may not be the case with you, but I think it's safe to say not everyone will have many opportunities to experience something like this in their life. With mail drops, you never completely leave behind the world of schedules, deadlines, and logistics.

The AT is unique, in that, if you're already familiar with backpacking, you don't have to do much planning at all. Once you have your ride to the approach trail figured out, you only need to make sure you have enough supplies to get you to your first town. By picking up your supplies in towns along the way, the simplicity and freedom you experience on the AT will be even more total and absolute.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, don't over-complicate it unnecessarily.

If you'd like to give it a try anyway, here are some suggestions...

First, based on your question, it sounds like you’re already familiar with some of the problems with food drops, but I’ll talk about those for anyone else reading, in order to highlight some of the advantages of ordering online.

What are mail drops?

Traditional mail drops are boxes that you packed with food and other supplies before leaving home, which someone will ship to you along the trail. Mail drops may be a requirement on remote trails, but on the AT, you will easily find places to resupply every 3 days or less (as long as you don't mind hitchhiking, which was very easy for me on the AT.)

Even the 100-Mile Wilderness in Maine has a resupply opportunity about halfway through. As of 2013, White House Landing is operating and picking up hikers. Just follow the signs and blue blazes down a 0.9-mile side trail, blow the air horn, and someone will be by in a boat to pick you up. They are trying to sell the land, however, so if you’re reading this beyond 2013, you may want to call ahead to be sure they are still picking up hikers.

So in other words, there are no locations on the AT where you will need to send a food drop.

Why does anyone bother with them at all?

If you don’t have special dietary or medical needs, in my opinion, there aren't many great arguments for dealing with mail drops on the AT. Some people do it because they make their own food, but the most common reasons for doing it have to do with saving money by avoiding small markets and convenience stores and avoiding areas with limited supplies.

On the AT, I never had a problem finding enough supplies at a resupply point to get me to the next one. And if shipping costs are involved, they will cancel out most, if not all, of the cost savings. That is, unless you send fewer drops and carry a huge amount of food, but carrying a heavy pack comes with its own, fairly obvious, downsides.

Also, if you buy food before your trip starts, you’ll eventually get tired of some or all of it. Believe it or not, there is a finite amount of times you’ll want to stare down at a pot full of Knorr Pasta Sides. It’s not easy eating enough calories on a long-distance hike. You will need as many as 5,000 to 6,000 calories per day to maintain your body weight. By buying food along the way, you’ll ensure you’re buying foods that you will want to eat.

So, I don't think traditional mail drops are generally worth it. On the AT, if I was concerned about the next resupply being expensive or limited, I would buy a few extra things at a good resupply point, like a town with a giant supermarket, to reduce what I needed to buy at the next stop. And if you do manage to save a little money with mail drops, you have to ask if it's worth the hassle. I think simplifying your life out there has a value that far exceeds those meager savings.

Benefits of Ordering Online

So back to your question, if you’re ordering online, you can avoid most of the downfalls with the traditional mail drop. Although, I have to say, I haven't actually tried this yet.

The only online store that I could find that might make this work is Walmart.com. It seems most products are  only sold in bulk, so this may not work if you're hiking alone, but it could save you money if splitting the food with a group. And as you said, you can get free 5-day shipping if you order at least $45 of their “home free” items, which is a significant enough number of products to get everything you need. This eliminates one of the big disadvantages. And since you’re buying food relatively close to the day you’ll be eating it, it's also less likely that you’ll be carrying things that you’re tired of eating.

Also, make sure you only order items that have a long enough shelf life to stay fresh.

Possible Downsides to Ordering Online

The first concern I had wasn't about poor cell service, but this is a concern. It surprised me how frequently I had service with my Verizon phone on the AT, but web access will be less common. I’m not sure how much less, since I didn't have internet on my phone, but I wouldn't want to rely on it.

That being said, it doesn't matter that much, because you already know you can resupply in towns within three days of wherever you are on the AT, so you don’t have to rely on it completely. And any place along the AT that allows you to send a mail drop will hold onto it for at least 30 days, even the Post Offices, so don’t be afraid to send things way out in front of you and consider placing more than one order when you do get service.

To have your walmart.com package sent to a post office, type "General Delivery" in the address line, along with the city, state, and zip code for the post office you want it shipped to. See the image to the right...

One advantage of shipping a package to a post office, rather than a hostel or hotel, is having the ability to call and have it forwarded. Let's say, for whatever reason, you know you're not going to make it to that post office during business hours, but you don't want to wait around town until morning. Simply call them up and have it forwarded to the next post office along the trail. This can help alleviate that feeling of being rushed by a deadline.

If something is shipped using First-Class or Priority with the USPS, they will forward it for free. Although, packages from Walmart.com, of the size we're talking about here, will likely be shipped with FedEx. That just means if you call to have it forwarded, you will have to pay the shipping cost when you arrive to pick up the package. The distances will be short, though, so it shouldn't be that expensive.

Another potential issue is that since you will be shipping packages to addresses that are not the same as your credit card billing address, Walmart.com may withhold the shipment until the address can be verified. This is to prevent fraud. They may not do it every time, but it could delay a package. You can sidestep this problem by calling your credit card company beforehand and asking them to put a note on your account with the addresses you plan on shipping to.

If you decide to ship to a business, such as a hostel, hotel, or outfitter, use the option to leave a "gift message" on the label whenever possible, so the receiver will know it’s a mail drop for an AT hiker. For example, you can write, “Please hold for AT hiker,” as your gift message. You could also add something like, “ETA: 07/20/13,” or whatever date is close to when you expect to pick up the package. I would add several days to that date, so you don't feel like you have to rush.

In some cases, Walmart.com won't give you the option to leave a gift message on the label. It depends on the product you're ordering, for some reason. Although, most places along the AT that accept mail drops will be very familiar with this practice and will probably assume it's for a hiker. For peace of mind, you could call and let them know you sent a package to them, so they will be expecting it.

In Conclusion

To avoid any shipping issues, I would still avoid mail drops as much as possible, in order to simplify your life on the AT, but ordering from Walmart.com doesn't sound like a bad idea at all. If you don't rely on it too much, send orders with plenty of lead time to correct issues, and use some of the tips above, I think you could do it without taking away from the experience.

On other long distance hikes, such as the Pacific Crest Trail, where towns are more spread out and further from the trail, ordering online would be considerably more beneficial. I will keep that in mind while planning my 2014 PCT hike!

Let me know if you try it and how it goes. There is still a chance that they will screw something up, since I'm sure they are not familiar with thru-hiking. I'll add an update to this post with what you find out.

One last bit of advice when it comes to heading into town for a resupply, I recommend doing it often. Some people may frown on taking too many trips into town, but even though there are great benefits to being far away from the creature comforts of civilization, I'm a fan of frequent resupplies.

The more times you stop to resupply, the lighter your pack will be. Even though a hitch in and out of town can take a few hours, you will be able to hike longer and further with your lighter pack and make up some of the difference. You will also have less pain, less injuries, more energy, and you'll just be happier overall.

And besides, I found that most of the anecdotes, for your blog and for the stories you'll tell years from now, will come from those town visits.

(Something else that just came to mind, since you have four in your group, it might take less time to get a hitch if you split into two groups of two.)

Alright, I need to stop before I ramble on even more. I'll post your next question and answer soon.


More Q&As with Victor:

Bugs and other Pests on the Appalachian Trail
Weather and Morale on the Appalachian Trail
Shelters Vs. Tents on the Appalachian Trail
Knives on the Appalachian Trail
Hiking with Visitors on the Appalachian Trail

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 6

My Final Day in Paradise
Click Here for Part One

I woke up early the next morning to watch the sunrise one last time over Lake Superior. I went back to the deck from last night. I expected to see others enjoying the view, but again I had the deck to myself. Only this time, I sat on the east-facing bench. I didn't leave until the sky passed its peak of red and orange.

A couple of hours later, I was floating in a kayak. I saw that they offered rentals, so decided to go on one final adventure before boarding the Isle Royale Queen IV once again.

I paddled around Tobin Harbor for four hours, hoping to catch another glimpse of a moose. I didn't see any but I did see two loons. I tried to close in on them to get a picture, but as I approached they dived underwater for a minute or so and pop back up in another location. They are like real life whack-a-moles. They made me look like a fool as I paddled back and forth helplessly.

I passed several small islands, some inhabited by people vacationing in cabins. I paddled toward two ducks, that stood on a log floating in the lake, hoping to snap their picture, but before I could get close enough their fight or flight instinct kicked in and they flew away. Just once, I want a duck to choose fight. That should keep things interesting. If nothing else I’d find out what I’m truly made of.

I took the kayak back to the beach and returned my paddle and life jacket. I still had over two hours before the boat arrived on the island, so I decided to go on a harbor walk with a small group lead by Ranger Marcia. I learned about useful plants that I wish knew about before my hike. Some edible, but most notable was a small feathery plant that is said to relieve the itch of mosquito bites if rubbed on your skin.

When we returned from the informative walk, they were loading gear and kayaks onto the boat. A long row of passengers lined up along its side. I wasn't anywhere close to being ready to leave but I didn't really have a choice, right? I sat again in the stern of the ship and watched as Isle Royale faded away. A depressing sight.

When we docked at Copper Harbor, I got back into my car and drove straight through for thirteen hours. I was surprisingly wide-awake for almost the entire time, until I was less than 40 miles from my house. Sleep deprivation finally started to set in.

I started to hallucinate, or maybe I was actually asleep for a few seconds and dreaming. I thought I saw something run out in front of me. I swear it looked like an 18” tall Sasquatch, although I’m fairly certain it wasn't  With fifteen miles to go, I dreamed that the road dropped off on the left side until my lane looked like a plateau on a ridge overlooking a shear drop off.

I couldn't take it anymore. This was not good. I stopped at a gas station and slept for an hour. I woke up suddenly, feeling like I had only slept for seconds then finished the last 15 minutes of driving.

It didn't take long to find myself back into my routine, but Isle Royale will forever be a special place to me, a significant part of my timeline. I already want to plan a second trip, but I have too many other things on my list to do. It’s not a Yahtzee, you know. You don’t get bonus points for doing it more than once. Nevertheless, there is something unique about that place. It’s the most revisited national park in the country and now I know why.

All that life is, is the present moment and a collection of memories from past moments. If I fill too much of my past with those repetitive, ignored memories, instead of living in the here-and-now then it’s no mystery why my time has flown by.

I spent so much of my time off at home, thinking I couldn't afford to do the things I wanted to do. I was wrong. (This trip was just over $300, including gas.) I have no good excuse for staying home anymore. Life is too short and too important. These six days will never be forgotten, blocked out or ignored as insignificant. Every detail will be with me forever.

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 5

The Darkest Sky
Click Here for Part One

The morning was chilly, but I didn't need a jacket . I ate breakfast, read a book, and once again listened to the loons. I packed up camp slowly, paying attention to the quality of my actions. I cleaned every piece of gear unhurriedly before carefully packing it away. I accomplished another one of my intended goals. Life was moving at a snail’s pace.

I decided to go back to Rock Harbor for my final night, where this hike began. Heading out of Lane Cove, back over balance beams and through clouds of bees.

I hiked along with my head down staring at the trail in front of me, then stopped suddenly. Just a few yards away, in the middle of the trail, stood two enormous moose, grazing and unperturbed by me. I don’t know what the safe distance was to be away from a moose, but it certainly wasn't this.

I, of course, grabbed my camera and snapped a dozen pictures rather than retreat to a safer distance. When the first moose crossed the trail a few yards in front of me, I could see sores on its hind legs. They looked like bite wounds, fresh bite wounds. Did he escape from certain death nearby? Where wolves still close? I honestly didn't consider that much, though. I was too excited about the photos I was getting and mesmerized by their size and closeness.

I moved towards the larger moose further up the trail. He wasn't facing me and didn't know I was there. I crept forward slowly, but still spooked him when he heard me behind him. He darted about 10 feet, but realized I wasn't a threat and went back to eating. The commotion, however, startled the first moose, which had now turned to face me. It seemed to move slightly forward, but this may have been my imagination. I thought his face looked concerned  or fearful. Fear can lead to anger, anger to violence. The kind of violence that makes you just want to headbutt an idiot with a camera. I backed away slowly, but continued taking photos like those tourists in Godzilla movies moments before their death.

I learned later that moose can be more problematic than bears, and very aggressive during mating season, but that doesn't start until late September. This was early September, so clearly nothing to worry about. Once again, my naivety will one day be the death of me.

With such a wonderful night, and being right in the middle of the moose’s world, I was on a naturalist’s high. I don’t even know what that means. I just know it doesn't get any better than this, at least not so far.

Since I was in a hurry the day before, I walked back up Mt. Franklin to sit and enjoy the view without feeling rushed. Several people came to check out the view, take a photo, and left quickly. I remained. I knew once I headed back down it might be the last I’d get to see it. As a result, it was hard to leave.

At Rock Harbor campground, I expected to see it crowded and full of activity, especially since it was Labor Day weekend. Other than the side with the restaurant and lodge, it was the opposite. I pretty much had the pick of whichever site I wanted. I choose to stay in one of the shelters. An empty 10 x 15 foot space with one wall made entirely of screen that faced the forest and a picnic table out front.

Writings and drawings covered the walls and ceiling inside. There were signatures, poems, short reports about experiences, testimonies, and commentary. One thing was clear, even those who wrote about bad experiences from weather or failed gear, enjoyed their stay and wanted to come back.

I left my gear behind and went to check out the slightly more civilized part of the island. I felt out of place. I was a guy from the woods who has been drinking water from the lake and lying on the ground. They were drinking wine on a patio. It’s a very small section, but where a lot of people congregated. I thought about getting a meal at the restaurant, but turned down the $35 cost. Instead, I walked down a trail and discovered a deck with benches angled towards both the sunrise and sunset. A few other people came and went, but everyone left before the sun completely set. I stayed, happy to be alone.

Daylight faded like a retractable roof revealing the cosmos. The smell of campfires started to waft over in the breeze. The first point of light to emerge was Jupiter, then Vega, the Big Dipper constellation, the Northern Cross, Cassiopeia, and a small handful of other stars light-years away. Soon, thousands of others joined them.

The dark sky was full of stars, more than I have ever seen in a night sky, but I can still only see a fraction of all that exist with the naked eye. There are hundreds of billions in our galaxy alone, which is one of hundreds of billions of galaxies. There are more stars in our universe than grains of sand on all the beaches on earth. Nobody ever believes me when I say that, but it's true; ask any astronomer or statistician (if you can find one). I cannot help but wonder how many of those stars hold planets in their gravitational grasp. How many of those planets support life? What color are the plants where their entomological dramas unfold?

Light emitted from these stars takes years to reach my eyes. In fact, the stream of light from each star left at different times, so every twinkle that I see represents a different moment in history. The light from Vega, which I can see now, left its source in about 1983. That’s before the Cosby Show and the creation of Alf. Think about it.

The ancient light from Mu Cephei started its voyage towards earth while humans were entering the Bronze Age, fighting wars with copper and bronze weapons, constructing Stonehenge, and for the first time using plows, pottery wheels, and interestingly, astronomy itself. The starlight is on a journey so long that when it finally passes by, I am not using copper for weapons anymore, but in the circuitry making it possible for me to later Google this information about the 4th century B.C.E.

The Andromeda galaxy is just a pale white point of light to the naked eye. That beam’s voyage is so old that pre-human hominids were tramping over the same planet, which I now lay, with the first primitive stone tools ever created. Now here it is colliding with my retinas and registering in my brain not as just another pale light from far away, but conjuring up feelings about my life of both insignificance and precious rarity. Whenever I am taking my life too seriously and need brought back down to earth, I simply have to look up.

I wish I could hold onto these moments always. Permanently slow things down. A rushed life finally unhurried. Regrettably, I know it will not last forever; but thanks to a love of the natural world, I will forever know that at any time I can get it back. Even in the realm of the known, without making up fantastical and magical stories, the world can be seen as fascinating, miraculous, and enchanting; and should above all, never be seen as repetitive and boring.

I had to put on my headlamp to see the trail for my hike back. When I neared the resort’s lights, I temporarily turned my headlamp off and strolled with my eyes still pointed at the sky. This caused me to veer off the trail and nearly trip, but I just couldn't keep my eyes off it. This was my last night; I had to take it all in and make it last. After all, it might be the last I’d get to see it.

   

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 4

Greenstone Ridge Trail
Click Here for Part One

At first light, my stealthy moose search began. I can't lie, I’m excited to be able to say that. I crossed over moose-made paths and puddles from moose-made footprints. It was a chilly 47°. A thick fog drifted across the lake under a peach sky. A river otter enjoyed a cold early morning swim.  I stood patiently by the lake with my camera, but there were no moose to be seen.

I went back to camp and lounged in my hammock listening to the early birds. Their songs are a little different this far north. “Burlap, burlap.” “Tweep, tweep,” some birds said, with their crazy northerner accents. I moved back to my cozy tent and sleeping bag to warm up. Apparently too cozy, I slept for an additional four hours. The day started late. I didn't get on the trail until 1:30 and I had over thirteen miles to go. I intended to start at a decent time. So much for that.

Pictures couldn't do it justice

My next target was Lane Cove via the Greenstone Ridge Trail. It was rougher than the previous trail, but there were some amazing views. As I got to the top of the first overlook, I was kind of awestruck. I was high enough to see the surrounding islands, which formed the archipelago.  My tense body slumped as I exhaled a “wow”. I had no idea there would be such views or that the ridge would be over 1,000 feet high. There is something to be said for under planning and letting yourself be surprised.

I saw several small islands and a hazy Canadian shore. I joined a fellow hiker sitting on the edge of exposed bedrock. I sat down with my feet hanging over the side. He was on day 2 of 16. We talked for a few minutes. He wasn't carrying a lot of food but would instead go fishing each night to catch dinner. He gave me some information about the trip to Lane Cove and continued on his way. I stayed there for a while longer to take it all in. I knew I didn't have a lot of daylight left, but to hell with deadlines, I have a headlamp.

This was not the only excellent lookout from Greenstone Ridge. Much of the ten miles I spent on it today were in view of the Lake a thousand feet below. I climbed the fire tower on Mount Ojibwa, to get as high as possible. I could see the Rock Harbor lighthouse over a mile away. I began to fall in love with the place. A couple of generations ago, a several motivated people fought relentlessly to turn this into a national park, to protect it from over-fishing  logging, the building of resorts, and other financial exploitation. I now sensed a connection with those people. I understood why they remained so diligent. I would have been proud to fight alongside them.

After descending from the ridge, I was back in the thick trees. The forest was wetter the further I hiked down. Moss clung to rocks and logs. Sage green lichens draped Birch trees. Slippery bog bridges lifted me above the wetlands, which frogs and snakes claimed as their home. Unfortunately, so did the mosquitoes. They swarmed in clouds, so I started to get frustrated and ready to be finished for the day.

A particularly long stretch of bog boards were about two feet off the ground and just over a foot wide. A heavy pack can pull you down if you lean to one side too much. That combined with a nervousness of falling and the constant swatting of mosquitoes, I felt like I was on one of those weird Japanese game show obstacle courses. I heard the announcer in my head as I walked across. “Alright and he’s off, over the balance beam, crossing the stagnant watery pit of snakes, uh oh he’s crouching down to take a picture of a pretty S-shaped snake laying in the water, a potentially devastating choice as this could compromise his stability, ooh and a massive hit on his right by the mosquito swarm. That frantic swatting is going to cost him his sense of balance, but wait a minute, he’s back up and he finishes in record time! Stay tuned for more Super Happy Joy Fun Show!”

Anyway, so the mosquitoes were annoying. I began referring to them as skeeters, which is the derogatory slur to use when wanting to intentionally show them disrespect. I constantly smacked and swatted at them. I really don’t like killing anything. I don’t even kill insects in my house. Some I give sanctuary, others I carefully pick up and set outside in the safety of a bush.  Nonetheless, with mosquitoes, I got a definite sense of satisfaction when killing one. Sorry skeeters, but nobody likes you. 

By the time I arrived at Lane Cove, the mosquitoes were mostly gone. The frustration instantly eroded and I was thrilled that I chose to hike the extra two and a half miles to get here. The site bordered the cove and the view pointed towards the opening into Lake Superior. The water was shallow for several feet so provided plenty of room for wading and rinsing off. I set my gear down, put on my water shoes, and headed into the lake.

Superior is always cold and today wasn't an exception. The average yearly temperature is in the 40s or 50s. It seemed a bit warmer than that, but not by enough.

I waded out until I was thigh deep and started to shiver, but it felt great. I hesitated due to the cold, but I wanted to be submerged. Before I could think about it too much, I held my breath and went under. It was exhilarating at first. I became acclimated just enough to tolerate it but never fully. I swam further out. My head popped above the surface while treading. I breathed air into my tightened lungs with short, almost hyperventilating breaths. Obviously, I’m not use to this.

I went back under and moved to shallower water so I could stand. I took a few more breaths, went under again, and swam towards the shore until my hands and knees grazed large fist-sized rocks on the bottom. It felt incredible. A cold swim after a few days of backpacking under a layer of sweat and grim is one of life’s most invigorating moments. I rolled onto my back then to a sitting position for a few minutes before getting out and drying in the sun.

There wasn't much daylight left, so I prepared camp. Periodically I’d stop to admire the sunset. After making myself at home, I lay on my back on a bench made of a large log planed down so it was flat. My head rested on my hands with fingers intertwined. I realize that the rush of the day is not for me. I wish I had gotten here earlier. My previous treks have been too hurried, this day included. That is not why I hike, not why nature draws me in. This was it, this simplicity, this kind of moment. Am I paying attention to it?

When I look up at the sky, I'm reminded that in over four billion years it has never looked exactly the same way. The clouds arranged in this particular combination of shapes and colors, moving in this particular way, will only exist at this moment and never again. I wish I could always remember that when I need to slow things down, live in the present and see something new, I simply have to look up.

I roll over onto my side, hand now propping up my head, occasionally scribbling in my journal. I concentrate on the feeling of tall grasses touching my skin, the smell of dirt, and start to see just how much is going on around me. Paying attention to the little things, which I normally block out, is another way to slow things down and live in the moment.

Over green chlorophyll and soil, an insect lived out his days with a struggle, drama, and determination that I cannot even imagine. It’s common to see the plants, not as living things, but as lifeless as gravel or mud, even though we share DNA. If they moved at a faster time-lapse pace, turning their leaves quickly towards the sun and slithering their roots under my feet, how different would they seem? Would I give them personality? Would I talk to them and give them names? Would I think twice before picking a flower?

The diversity and cooperation between plants on the island is also admirable. There are species that wouldn't ordinarily be able to survive on Isle Royale, due to its poor soil quality with low levels of nitrogen. Some species of plants, however, convert the nitrogen in the air and put some back into the soil in forms other plants can use to survive. Below me, even though I can’t see it, I know an overlooked world exists buried under tons of dirt, roots, bedrock, and water, churning away unknowing and selflessly keeping everything alive and growing here on the surface.

Just as important is the microscopic life, which is so abundant that if everything we can observe with the naked eye were to disappear, we would still see ghostly outlines of it constructed out of trillions of bacteria and nematodes.

The lichens covering the trees and rocks look like a single organism, but are actually comprised of fungus with algae or cyanobacteria, or both. The fungus provides structure and nitrogen allowing the algae or cyanobacteria to photosynthesize and provide food for the fungi. One would not survive in this beautiful form without the other. "Lichens are fungi that discovered agriculture," as one lichenologist put it. This delicate cooperation illustrates both the strength and endurance of the island but also the fragility and teamwork required to maintain it.

So much of this activity is going on continuously, and yet, I typically fail to pay attention to it. It's a magnificent world and largely ignored in the course of the average day. A nearly useless and unclaimed dollar bill blows across a parking lot and most of us will go out of our way to chase it down. At the same time fail to see the priceless things always around us, each one blocked out as repetitive and insignificant.

The sun was now set, the clear sky still a bright, but now darkening blue. The absence of moon and city light made every possible star visible. Periodic breezes hissed through the pines and water gurgled against the rocks on the shore. This is the time of my life.

SMACK, the sound of another dying mosquito. “Thought you were going to bite me, huh? Skeeta please.”

I moved to my tent to be away from them, so they wouldn't take away from this moment. I sat up late reading and writing. Occasionally I’d lie on my back to gaze up at the unusual amount of stars that I normally can’t see at home. Along with many other things, complete darkness is something I forgot how to appreciate.

  

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.   

Re-post of My Journal From Isle Royale, Part 3

Life List Item Number Forty-Two
Click Here for Part One

The night was in the upper forties and remained chilly the next morning as I repacked my gear. McCargoe Cove, 10 miles away, was today’s planned destination. I got back on the trail and walked along a bog bridge, a twelve-inch plank to raise hikers above the wetland. Beautiful flowers grew wild on both sides. I didn't notice the buzzing noise until I was right in the middle of it. Bees surrounded me. It was like walking into an apiary without a beekeeper outfit, but I didn't even consider that they might sting me. I just kept walking through it with a smile on my face. My naivety will one day be the death of me.

So far, my pilgrimage to see a moose was unsuccessful. I worried that not seeing any was a possibility. Then somewhere between Lake Richie and Chickenbone Lake, just a few yards on my right, I hear a loud exhaling grunt that could have only come from one of the half-ton lumbering beasts.

I was temporarily startled but drew the camera from my side pocket like Wyatt Earp. I walked along fallen trees to get closer, balancing myself by reaching for nearby trunks and branches. He was grazing, preparing for winter, so said Ranger Marcia. His massive size and huge rack made me suddenly feel fragile. His movements were unhurried, living in the moment. He grabbed branches between his teeth then slid up to strip it of leaves. It was fascinating to watch. With great satisfaction, I mentally crossed off number 42.

I picked a site at Chickenbone Lake to stay for the night. I didn’t get to McCargoe Cove, three more miles away. I was ready to rest and after seeing the moose, I wanted to stay in the area to see if I'd see more.

Moose don’t like hot weather. They don’t get cold until about -25°F, so I figured they would frequent the lake to cool themselves. After surveying the site, I found a few moose tracks and many paths leading toward the water. I was certain I’d be successful. I set my alarm for 6:00 am. I’d hunt early, camera in hand.

Logs and rocks surrounded a large boulder near the center of the campsite, which I used as a table and chair to prepare dinner. While I ate, and for the rest of the evening, the periodic cry of a loon, put me in good spirits until it started to rain. I grabbed everything and threw it into my tent.

I hopped onto a large boulder that was a couple of feet out into the lake and watched droplets from the drizzle collided with the still water. The light reflecting off the ripples looked like thousands of fireflies swarming on the surface.

Another reason I stopped three miles before reaching McCargoe was that I didn’t want this trip to be about completing as many miles as possible. I wanted time to relax by the lake, sway in my hammock, and read my book. Aside from the few intermittent showers, it was a perfect night to do so. The storm clouds moving in reflected many warm hues from the setting sun, creating a dramatic and menacing sky.

I am a hammock-based sloth with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no one to answer to. Finally, I’m beginning to have the frame of mind to answer some, often ignored, but important questions. Questions that keep me in the here and now: what is going on around me, what sounds have just entered my ears that I am ignoring, what is my skin feeling, am I paying attention?

A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.