Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Night Hiking To Mars Best Of 2015

It has recently become apparent to us here at Night Hiking To Mars that just about every other hiking and outdoor online “news source” puts out a year-end “Best Of” article.



We now think that we’ve done a disservice to the eight people who read this blog by not having our own annual swaggering, self-high-fiving post, considering that we’ve been putting out what is arguably the best online source for outdoor news that probably hasn’t actually happened.

In addition, it occurs to us that an article about our best articles not only requires almost no work on our part, but also allows us to celebrate ourselves in a way that might otherwise come across as unseemly braggadocio.


Some might say that maybe we should leave it to others to judge the quality and impact of what we’ve written.  But can we really trust other people to have good taste?  To be discerning?  To use the royal “we” when referring to the one person who writes these articles?  In this day and age, we say no.

And even if others were capable of all of that, would they highlight the fact that the article appeared in Night Hiking To Mars?  Would they make it clear that the Night Hiking To Mars Blog is always the most important part of the story?  Considering how infrequently anyone gives us credit on Instagram, Facebook, or the internet generally for the naked photos of us running amuck in a Jiffy Lube, we again say no.
  


So treat yourself.
Sit back, grab a drink, and bask in the awesomeness that was Night Hiking To Mars in 2015 (oh, and make sure to click on all of the links, thus increasing our page views without us really doing anything new at all).  Enjoy!


#5 “Wild” Debates About PCT Overcrowding (Parts One And Two)
Unique for being a three-part series with only two parts, “Wild” Debates About PCT Overcrowding looked at concerns created by a combination of the release of the movie Wild and people sitting around all winter with nothing better to worry about.  Part One focused on people carrying furniture with them while thru-hiking.  Part Two involved caches of office supplies littering the trail.  Neither one of these concerns seems to have had an actual impact on the trail last season, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t time to panic.


#4  Appalachian Trail: The Sheltered Life
A Guide to sharing space, time, and mice at Appalachian Trail shelters that can best be summed up
by the following: practice LNT, try not to be annoying, bring earplugs.  But there’s more in there, so you should definitely read it -- otherwise, you’ll be unaware of the circumstances under which other hikers might try to eat your dog.



#3 "Bear Selfie" Issue Spreads To The Continental Divide Trail
Bear Selfies are viewed as an increasing problem by land managers worried about the potential for attacks.  This article examines the phenomenon, looks at why Forest Service warnings aren’t working, and asks the question, “where are these bears getting selfie sticks?”


#2 Hiker Claims Fastest Known Time For "Twiple Crown"
Night Hiking To Mars interviews the new Fastest Known Time holder of what is arguably the most prestigious speed record for hiking trail widths in the country.
Which is definitely a thing and not something we just made up.


#1 Night Hiking To Mars Best of 2015
The top spot, as you can imagine, is held by the article about the top articles of 2015.  How could it not be?  It’s literally an article about the best articles.  Sure, the Apple Cake one was useful, and the calendar one was kind of clever, and the A.T. Training one recommended eating Gold Bond, which is probably legally actionable.



But this is the “Best Of” Article.  By its very nature it has to be the best.  You should click on the link and read it again, and then again, and then again.  And we’d say that you should really go on and do this endlessly, like you’re trapped in an M.C. Escher painting or an online argument about tents vs. hammocks, except that you should at least pause and share this article with your friends.  Because, as we think we’ve already mentioned, it’s the best.

Note: Thanks to everyone who helped with the articles this year!  More to come in 2016!


Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Hiker Claims Fastest Known Time For "Twiple Crown"


Shane “Jester” O’Donnell has hiked the AT (twice), LT, PCT, JMT, and CDT.  He’s a co-holder of the record for highest altitude Twister game, and was recently voted the AT Class of 2015’s “Most Likely To Be Wearing A Completely Different Outfit The Next Time You See Him” AND “Most Likely To Tell You How Seriously, Seriously Awesome He Is.  No, Seriously.”  Recently, he claimed a Fastest Known Time (FKT) for what he calls “The Twiple Crown.”  Night Hiking To Mars recently sat down with Jester for an interview about his latest record setting feat.

Jester completing the Twiple Crown

NHTM: Welcome!
Jester: Thanks!  Great to be here!

NHTM: First of all, tell us . . .
Jester: No snacks?
NHTM: What?

Jester: There aren’t any snacks?  At all?

NHTM: No.
Jester: Bummer.  I sort of assumed there’d be snacks.

NHTM: Right.  Well, first of all, tell us about “The Twiple Crown.”
Jester: Sure.  “The Twiple Crown” involves hiking the entire widths of the Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest Trail, and the Continental Divide Trail.  There are a couple of hundred people who have hiked the entire lengths of these trails, but not nearly as many who have hiked the widths.  And in my case, I did it in record time.

Taking a brief nap after crossing the PCT
NHTM: Tell us more about that record attempt.

Jester: Right, well, my speed record attempt for the Twiple Crown started at the Anderson’s house in Green Valley on December 7th.  I left late in the morning and got to the trail crossing at San Francisquito Canyon Road at 11am, where I walked the width of the PCT.  By the next morning I was in Lordsburg, New Mexico and walked across the CDT near the fireworks place.  From there it was a little more than 1800 miles to the AT crossing at I-40, where I got off the highway, walked the width of the AT, and then went to Standing Bear Farm and had a beer with Baltimore Jack.  Total time: 3 days, 6 hours, 35 minutes.  Not including the beer part.
Crossing the CDT in Lordsburg, NM

NHTM: We contacted Jackie “Yogi” McDonnell, a Triple Crowner and the author of guidebooks for the PCT, CDT, and Colorado Trail, and asked her about the Twiple Crown.  Her response was, and I quote, “That is absolutely not a thing.  At all.”  What do you have to say to that?
Jester: Well I’ve got this hat that says it’s a thing.



NHTM: That’s a Triple Crown hat with a “W” written on a piece of duct tape covering the “R” in "Triple."
Jester: Look, let’s not get into what the hat is or isn’t.  The point isn't the hat.  The point is, there are people who stick to walking the lengths of established trails, and hey -- that’s great.  But for some of us, we’re pushing boundaries.  Creating new experiences.  I mean, was High-Altitude Twister “a thing” before I set the record for that?  Of course not.  But now it is.

NHTM:  We asked Yogi about High-Altitude Twister, too.  She said, “also not a thing.”
Jester: Well, I think that just proves my point.  Some people stick to the adventures people have already done.  I attempt the adventures that nobody’s even thought of because they don’t make any sense.  I’m like Andrew Skurka, but without the National Geographic article, attention span, or fitness level.

High Altitude Twister may or may not be a thing.

NHTM: Speaking of fitness, how did you train for the attempt?

Jester: I’m pretty well known for not doing any physical training at all, but since this was for a record I had to hit the ground running.  So I decided to prepare for this attempt by thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail, which kind of turned out to be overkill since the Twiple Crown involves about six feet of walking.

NHTM:  And you met Heather “Anish” Anderson while you were on your thru-hike.

Jester: I did!  It was just south of Pinkham Notch.  When I told her about my plan to set a record for the Twiple Crown she said, “that’s so dumb it’s amazing.”  And I have to tell you, to have a hiker of Anish’s caliber tell you that something you’re planning is amazing  is just incredible.  It’s really inspiring and motivating.
Training with near Anish.

NHTM: What were the keys to your success on this attempt?
Jester: Planning.  Gas money.  My focus.  Definitely my focus . . . hey, are those snacks?

NHTM: No, that’s a bowl of fake fruit.

Jester: Wow. They look totally real.

A very old thing.  In front of a dinosaur.
NHTM: You were saying, about your focus . . .
Jester: Right!  The Focus.  Only it’s not a Focus.  It’s a Ranger, a 1992 Ford Ranger, and with over 256,000 on the odometer it has almost as many miles as Cam “Swami” Honan.  I definitely couldn’t have done this without my truck.  I’d also like to thank my sponsors, all of whom asked not to be named.
NHTM: Because?

Jester: Something about “not wanting to be associated with this record.”

NHTM: Understandable.  Do you think anyone can break it?

Jester:  Sure.  It's probably easier East to West because of the time changes.  And staying on I-40 the entire time and hiking the width of the CDT in Grants would probably cut off some time.  But I think you're asking, "can anyone break it?" when the better question is, “why would anyone want to?”

NHTM: True, true.  People who attempt speed records say it can be an emotional rollercoaster.  Did you feel like that?

Jester:  Only a couple of times.  In Texas I had a brief moment of terror when I thought a semi was coming right for me, but it turned out to be a truck towing another truck backwards.  I hate that.  And the night before I finished I was sleeping in my truck fifty miles west of Memphis and thought, “I’m in a country song right now,” which as you can imagine is depressing.  But in the morning I got up, took my pants off, and got back on the road.  504 miles of driving and two feet of walking later and I had the record.  It was exhilarating.
  
A brief moment of terror

NHTM: It must have been.  What are you going to do next?
Jester: Well, considering the snack situation around here I’m definitely going to have lunch.

NHTM: But after that?  Any plans?

Jester: Not sure.  I heard a rumor that the Appalachian Trail is going to be 0.1 miles shorter in 2016, which might give me just the edge I need to beat Anish’s Self-Supported Record.  So maybe that.  Hard to say.  But whatever it is, it’ll be seriously, seriously awesome.

FKT For The Twiple Crown!

Note: After this interview we contacted Heather “Anish” Anderson about the possibility of Jester beating her record.  Her response was, “He said that?  Really?  HahahAhaHaHahAhaHAhaha!  Oh God!  HAhaHahAhaHAhahaHAHA!  Oh, man.  Heeheehee. That made my day.  Wow.”


Wednesday, September 30, 2015

How To Help Jester Love Backpacking

If you take Jester hiking, you're going to
have to put up with a certain amount of bunny
ear.  Metaphorically speaking.
Every four years or so Shane O'Donnell (AKA Jester) forgets that he doesn’t really like backpacking and decides to do it for five months straight.  But perhaps you want to take Jester backpacking for just a few days, although it’s difficult to say why you would think that’s a good idea.  Maybe you like watching people fall down in unique and comical ways?  Not sure.  Anyway.
If you’re considering taking Jester on a trip, follow this advice to ensure you continue to love backpacking.



Don’t be a teacher or a guide.  Be a hiking partner.  A really, really tolerant hiking partner.
Be on your best, super-considerate behavior to make sure Jester has a good time, and also because you are not a jerk.  But curb your instinct to do everything for him, because he’s lazy and will totally let you.  And that will eventually annoy the crap out of you, making it difficult to be super-considerate.

Don't buy his argument that the silly things he's carrying
are the lightest versions of those silly things.
Get involved with gear.
Help Jester pack.  Definitely.  If he packs his own backpack he’ll end up bringing half of the stuff he needs and all of the stuff he doesn’t.  While making sure he’s carrying what he should you can screen out the random extras -- on past unsupervised hikes he’s brought a kite, a Twister mat, various stuffed animals, bunny ears, water guns, glow sticks, Hawaiian shirts, a frisbee, and ridiculous amounts of camera equipment.  Including a tripod.  He once carried an actual license plate he found for about 200 miles.  And let’s not even discuss the 4.25 pound Wizard statue.
I could go on, but I think I’ve made my point -- nothing ruins a trip like a too-heavy load that includes a magic kit and a Chuck Norris poster but no cookpot.

Pick your spot well.
Choose a satisfying destination (hot tub, massage therapist’s office, fast food restaurant, etc.), because for Jester the journey is the destination, unless there’s a McDonalds nearby -- in which case the McDonalds is the destination.  Once you’ve got that nailed down, don’t worry about the mileage.  Jester will walk all damn day if there are 30 Chicken McNuggets at the end of the hike.

"The journey of a thousand calories begins with a single McNugget."

Hog the map and compass.
Jester is easily confused and honestly can’t navigate for crap.  He’s gotten lost on trails that blind people have successfully hiked.  He’s gotten lost in towns.  Not cities, towns.  And maybe you can understand that when it happens in Ashland, Oregon, but he’s gotten lost in East Glacier, Montana, which has a total area of less than five square miles and something like six streets. 
So it’s important to make sure he’s never involved in doing any real navigating, but on the other hand he likes to believe he’s in on the decision making.
So let him carry a map.
But not the actual map of where you actually are, because you may need that and he’ll probably just lose it.  Give him a map of a random National Park, or the I-95 corridor, or Barrow, Alaska.  It’s not like he’ll know the difference.

If you do get lost, do not let Jester become aware of it.
It's difficult to concentrate when someone is suggesting
cannibalism every five minutes.

Plan a mouth-watering menu.
Jester should not be involved in meal planning on any level.  If left to his own devices, he’ll only pack cheese, mayonnaise, and gummi worms.
It might be tempting to just buy a bunch of Mountain House meals and call it a day, but if you’ve ever been around Jester after he’s eaten Mountain House Chili Mac With Beef, you know that’s a terrible idea.  And by “after” I mean “for the following 72 hours.”
The problem here is that the trail food Jester likes to eat makes him revoltingly gassy, so you’re faced with the following connundrum: if you don’t bring food he likes he’ll complain the entire time, but if you do bring food he likes YOU’LL complain the entire time.
Don’t know what to tell you.  Bring whatever food you want.  Plus earplugs and a noseclip.  And don’t share a tent with him.

Keep him involved in camp chores.
But not, you know, any important ones.
Whatever you do, DO NOT TRY TO TEACH HIM TO LIGHT THE CAMP STOVE.  He’s already come close to starting a wildfire in a windfarm and he definitely set fire to a tent in the 100 Mile Wilderness.  And destroyed the stove.
Don’t have him help you hang the bear bag, either -- 42 percent of people who do end up being hit in the head with a rock tied to a rope.  Even if he’s not doing that on purpose (and he might be), do you really want to play those odds?
Ideally you should pick a simple chore where it will be difficult for him to hurt anyone or damage any gear.
You could have him blow up the sleeping pads, which, amazingly, will not prevent him from talking.  Or have him collect deadfall for a campfire you’re not really planning on having.  Or ask him to locate the privy, recognizing that you may never, ever see him again.

Don’t take any of it too seriously.
Lord knows he’s not going to.


Note: This is a parody of a real article in Backpacker Magazine entitled, “How To Help Your Girlfriend Love Backpacking,” which a number of my female backpacking friends have found more than a little insulting -- it includes advice such as, “let her hold the map” and “teach her to light the camp stove.”  Perhaps it would seem less condescending if framed in a gender-neutral way?  Dunno.  But I decided to take the opportunity to poke some fun at both the article and myself.  Hopefully I’ve done my job well and it’s funny even if you haven't read the original.



I should also note that unlike most of the articles on this blog, just about everything mentioned in this one is true, although some of it is slightly exaggerated (but only slightly)(and only some of it).



Monday, September 21, 2015

"Bear Selfie" Issue Spreads To The Continental Divide Trail


Bear Selfies are raising concerns about safety on the CDT

On August 28th, 2015, Waterton Canyon, a popular park in Denver, Colorado, was closed due in part to problems with Bear Selfies.  And recently, the U.S. Forest Service's Lake Tahoe Basin Management Unit has issued warnings regarding Bear Selfies, noting that “it is presenting a safety issue.  We are afraid someone is going to get attacked.”

And now "Bear Selfies" are becoming an issue on the Continental Divide Trail.

In the past, encounters with Grizzlies along the CDT in Wyoming and Montana have been rare, and photos few and far between.  But that’s changed recently, and the proof is appearing on social media.


“I get out on the CDT a lot and yeah, they’re showing up, getting some hikers in the background, snapping a few shots,” says hiker Paul “Mags” Magnanti, “I have no idea why they think this is a good idea.  It’s weird.  Really, really weird.”



Bears taking selfies have been spotted as far south as the Wind River Range

Weird perhaps, but definitely dangerous, according to CDTC Trail Information Assistant Liz Thomas:
  “The fact that these bears are comfortable enough around humans to not only approach that close but to turn their backs on them?  These are bears that have become dangerously habituated to humans.  And Facebook and Twitter and Instagram.”

A bear violating the number one safety rule for animals:
NEVER turn your back on humans
Despite multiple warnings issued by the Forest Service, the bears continue to put themselves in dangerous situations.  “Honestly, you can warn the bears all you want about the possibility of serious injury or death if they get too close,” says spokesperson Scott Glenn, “but ultimately it doesn’t seem to matter.  They’re going to do whatever they want, because they’re bears.

Also, it turns out they apparently don’t  understand English and can't read signs.”




When asked about the possibility of closing the trail, CDTC Managing Director Teresa Martinez noted, “attempting to close the entire trail in two states would be a logistical nightmare and a last resort, and we’re really hoping the bears will just wise up and knock it off.  In the meantime, we’re honestly trying to figure out how bears this dumb could afford smart phones and selfie sticks.”



At least they're not Bear Instagram Food Photos.  Yet.

Note: As usual, the names are real but the quotes are fake.  Thanks to all those who gave me permission to use their names for these articles!

Friday, September 11, 2015

Monday, March 16, 2015

Perhaps this is a woman you don't fully understand either . . .


This is just me being silly with a photo taken by Kolby Kirk.  He's doing a year-long hiking/nature/photography/art thing called "The Wilds Project," which involves hiking in all of Oregon's Wilderness Areas.  You can check it out here:

Friday, March 13, 2015

Trail Magic Recipes For Home: Jack's Apple Cake

My Mom (AKA "Jester's Mom") is well known in the hiking community as an excellent baker of all sorts of Trail Magic goodies.  The problem: normally, you have to do the work of actually hiking to benefit from this.  And who wants to do that?
Jester's Mom on the AT.


This is the second in a series of blog posts (see the first HERE) that will provide you with the ability to enjoy Trail Magic baked goods from the comfort of your couch, your bed, or even the floor, should your hiking lifestyle put you in the position of not being able to afford furniture.  Or maybe you'll make a cake and drive to the nearest trail to give some out to hikers, only to discover that you've eaten three-quarters of it on the way there.

This recipe is named "Jack's Apple Cake" not because Baltimore Jack Tarlin has anything to do with the recipe or the baking of the cakeIt isn't even named after him because I mention bourbon in the recipe.  It's called "Jack's Apple Cake" because if you take one anywhere within a quarter-mile of Jack it will most likely disappear, never to be seen again.

Jack's Apple Cake  
Makes: A Big Heavy Cake
 

Prep Time: 40 minutes (preparing apples is a pain)
Cook Time: 1-1/2 to 1-3/4 hours


Ingredients:
6-7 large apples (Rome, Stayman, or Granny Smith) 

3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon

4 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups sugar
1 tsp salt
4 tsp baking powder
1 cup orange juice
4 eggs
1 cup cooking oil
non-stick spray

 

What else you will need:
Sifter, large mixing bowl, small bowl, mixer, tube pan, apple slicer/corer, 1 bottle Bourbon.


Directions:

1. Pour yourself a glass of bourbon.  You’ll want it after doing all of the work on the apples.
2. Peel, core, and slice the apples.  Split them into two even amounts.
2a. Have some bourbon.  You earned it. 
3. Mix the sugar and cinnamon together in a small bowl, set aside.
4. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
5. Combine flour, sugar, salt, baking powder and sift into a mixing bowl.  Make a well in the center, like digging a cathole.  Okay, that was gross.  Don’t think of it like that. 
6. Into the well, add the orange juice, eggs, and oil.  Beat well with the mixer.
7. Spray a tube pan with non-stick spray and then pour half of the batter into it.  Spread half of the apple slices over it and sprinkle with half of the cinnamon/sugar mixture.
8. Cover with the rest of the batter, top with the remaining apples, sprinkle with the remaining sugar.
9. Bake at 350 degrees for about 1-1/2 hours until cake is done.  It sometimes takes a little longer, maybe another 15 minutes.  But starting at 1-1/2 hours you should occasionally poke it with a knife or something to test it.  If the knife comes out clean it’s done.  If blood pours out of the cake, you have spectacularly screwed up the recipe.  Maybe lay off the bourbon next time.

What Jack's Apple Cake looks like two minutes
after receiving one in the mail and five
minutes before it's completely gone.


 

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Appalachian Trail: The Sheltered Life

“We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.” -- Dorothy Day

“. . . And to tolerate that community, you should probably bring earplugs.” -- Shane O’Donnell

For those unfamiliar with the Appalachian Trail, it’s a National Scenic Trail that runs from Georgia to Maine, and unlike many other trails it has shelters every eight to ten miles or so.  Some people prefer to use their tents while hiking the AT; other people enjoy using the shelters.  There are many designs, but typically they’re three sided structures with a roof, a sleeping deck, and mice.

Mice trying to get to your food, mice sleeping on your face to keep warm, mice doing Olympic-level gymnastics.  I swear, sometimes in a shelter it's like Cirque de Soleil-Down-For-Five-Minutes-And-You're-Covered-In-Mice.  But shelters can be fun for people who aren't looking for a solitary experience, and they're a great option in terrible weather.  And later in the season there are fewer mice around as the shelters get completely overrun with enormous black snakes.

Many first-time long distance hikers are unfamiliar with the sort of communal living that happens in the shelters along the trail (and the associated smells and noises), so I decided it would be a good idea to put together some thoughts on shelter etiquette and some observations on:



Living The Sheltered Life

In the words of House of Pain, “pack it up, pack it in, let me begin”
. . . by also telling you to pack it out.

I don’t care what it is, whether or not you think it’ll burn, or if you think someone else might use it.  If you don’t want it anymore it’s trash, and it isn’t any heavier than when you left town with it.  Here’s a handy way of figuring out if you should leave something behind at a shelter:
hold the thing in your hand and say to yourself, “should I leave this behind?”

The answer is always no.

Note: if the thing you’re holding in your hand is poop, we need to have an entirely different discussion.  And your trail name is now “Poop Hand Luke.”

All softball played inside the shelter must be slow pitch only.  This should go without saying, but most hikers today aren’t carrying helmets with them like they used to.

Some people become very comfortable with taking their clothes off in front of others in the shelters.  If you need to disrobe, announce that you are about to do so.  This will give some people time to avert their eyes, and other people time to adjust the settings on their cell phone cameras.

If your trail name is “Spain,” walking up to the shelter and yelling, “I claim this shelter in the name of Spain” is funny twice.  Maybe three times.  Then you need to get a new thing. 

Some Thoughts On Music:
Most people enjoy music.  Most people do not enjoy listening to people learn how to play music.

All harmonica playing should be confined to the privy.

Only one tuba solo per evening.

If you play Wagon Wheel every night for two weeks because it’s the only song you know, it’s entirely possible that someone is going to use your backpacker guitar to make a fire.

Looking at the section above on music, I feel like I haven't properly expressed my feelings about hamonicas, so I'll just add this: there's a reason they let people in prison have them. 

Talking to another shelter-dweller face to face is admittedly confusing and somewhat terrifying at first.  Are you supposed to make eye contact?  What do you do with your hands?  And how are you supposed to signal your tone or emotional state without emojis?  But if you put the electronics away every once in a while, it’s something you can get used to and even occasionally enjoy.  Also, if you’re not binge-watching Peaky Blinders you don’t have to carry a solar charger that’s not going to work anyway.

Walking on the sleeping deck in boots is only acceptable if they have clear heels filled with goldfish.

Drugs: drug use in the shelters is sometimes a controversial topic, but ultimately it’s about respect and discretion.  If you absolutely must do drugs, have some consideration and do it out of sight of your shelter mates.
Nobody needs to see you cramming your face full of Ibuprofen every morning.

Try not to be too annoyed with that first time hiker who wants to talk about his eight-pound base weight and how you’re carrying all sorts of things you don’t need and how you’ll never finish with a pack that heavy.  He’s been researching his gear for a year now and he’s just excited because he finally has the chance to use it.

Plus, he’s quitting next week.  So you won’t have to put up with him for long.
Earplugs: light, small, and solve most
shelter issues (with the exception of
the earplug-eating mice).


Complaining will not prevent the Orchestra Of Bodily Functions from launching into an all night performance.  The best you can do is try to get to sleep before it starts tuning up.  And bring earplugs.  And maybe one of those nose clip thingies swimmers wear.

“The shelter isn’t full until everyone is in” does not apply to the guy who shows up in the rain and announces that because he decided not to carry a tent someone already in the shelter has to get out.

Showing up late:
If you show up after dark at a shelter and everyone else has already bedded down, it’s best to accept up front that there’s absolutely no way to get yourself settled into the shelter without making noise.  No matter how quiet you try to be, you’re going to sound like a blind guy wandering around in a poorly organized wind chime factory.
So whatever you decide to do, do it fast.  Get in there if you must, but consider the quieter option of just cowboy camping next to the fire made of backpacker guitars.

Getting up early:
I understand completely if you’re all annoyed that the other people in the shelter think “Hiker Midnight” is a joke about how early hikers fall asleep instead of being some sort of quiet hour rule.  But clomping in the shelter and banging your gear around at 4:30am is going to make people hate you regardless of how justified you feel in punishing them via early morning passive aggressive retaliatory noise.

Please Purell your hands before touching anything else after mouse juggling.

And finally, if you’re hiking with your dog, maybe just stay out of the shelter entirely and set up your tent.  I know you love your dog.  I might even love your dog.  But if your dog gets someone’s stuff wet or grabs their food or accidentally rips their sleeping bag or pees on anything, it won’t matter that “he’s never done that before,” someone is going to try to eat your dog.

And let’s be honest -- sooner or later someone is probably going to try to eat your dog anyway.  It happens all the time.  But if you keep it away from the shelter they’ll at least be doing it out of hunger rather than spite.  And they might express regret afterwards and say something along the lines of, “geez, I’ve never tried to eat someone’s dog before.”



Wednesday, February 11, 2015

“Wild” Debates On The PCT (Part Two): Caches

The Pacific Crest Trail is a National Scenic Trail that stretches approximately 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada through California, the State of Jefferson, Oregon, and Washington.  In the recent past, every year saw a couple of hundred “thru-hikers” attempt to hike the entire trail in one hiking season.  But due to the recent success of the book and movie “Wild,” many in the trail community have expressed fears that the trail will become overcrowded with people who aren’t “real hikers.”
This author doesn’t understand how imaginary hikers could possibly cause much impact (or any impact at all), but the impact is definitely there, mainly in the form of intense debates around aspects of trail life that formerly provided us with little to no drama over the winter.

Part One of this series focused on hikers carrying large pieces of furniture on the PCT.  In Part Two of this series, we look at another suddenly controversial feature of the Pacific Crest Trail: caches of office supplies.



A hiker relaxes at Third Hole Cache
The time is spring, 2008.  The place is the PCT in Southern California.  I roll up to Third Hole Cache, open a box, select a three-hole punch, and add it to my supplies.  After writing a short “thank you” in the register (and hole punching the crap out of it), I hike on towards Barrel Springs.

Not too long ago, this was an unremarkable event on the trail.  People who provided caches of office supplies were viewed by many as trail heroes, their efforts and altruism appreciated.  Recently, however, the need for (and existence of) office supply caches has been called into question as hiking the PCT rises in popularity.

“It’s completely unnecessary,”  says Wylie “Crazyhorse” Jones.  “Hikers should be self-sufficient.  They should be carrying all of the office supplies they need, not relying on caches for paper clips and staplers and desk blotters.  But with caches out there, they do.”

The Scissors Cache has long been a source of debate,
mainly because of fears that trail runners might
carry them.



Others disagree.  According to Rachel “DurrdayFeet” Abrams, “I don’t rely on caches, but lets say I break my scissors and I need to cut my hair or do some scrapbooking or trim some filo pastry for a nice baklava?  A cache of scissors can be a godsend.  Maybe only for hirsute artsy-crafty Greeks, but still.”

Some blame the reliance on office supply caches on the emergence of lightweight gear and the hiking mindset that surrounds it.  “There was a time when hikers with 50 or 60 pound packs carried all of the office supplies they needed,” says Junaid “Speshul” Dawud, “people were prepared to travel 30 or 40 miles without counting on someone else for highlighters, Post-Its, and toner cartridges.  Today?  If the question is ‘how many three-ring binders is someone really going to carry in a ULA Circuit,’ then ‘not enough’ is the answer.”
But even that perspective is open to debate.  “The thing is,” says Namie “LetItBe” Bacile, “every small town along the trail used to have a small stationary store or something, until the big box stores put them out of business.  The Saufleys used to loan out a Chevy Suburban for supply runs to an Office Max in L.A., but they stopped doing that years ago.  Today, if you need a ream of laser printer paper?  Good luck.  Unless you hit a cache.”



One way or another,  the Swarthout Canyon Office Depot cache
may become a thing of the past.
Ultimately, says Kathryn “A-Dubs” Nicole, while caches are appreciated its the combination of numbers and reliance that creates a dangerous situation.  “It’s a safety issue.  If you’re counting on caches for basic necessities like scotch tape, Sharpies, and tri-fold poster board, what do you do if there are forty hikers ahead of you and they’ve decided to have an on-trail science fair?  You’re screwed.”

For now, the future of caches is unclear, but the problem may just resolve itself.  The resources of the people who fill office supply caches are being increasingly taxed, and some may back away from helping hikers in this way.  And as once-dependable caches full of rubber bands and dry erase board cleaner are emptied by large bubbles of hikers, the caches may come to be viewed as increasingly untrustworthy sources, thus reducing reliance.

But until then, one thing is clear: office supply caches will remain a subject of debate for people sitting behind computer screens who would rather be out hiking.






Note: Thank you to the hikers who allowed me to fake quote them for this article!

Saturday, January 31, 2015

Appalachian Trail Thru-Hiker Situational Training

As someone who has successfully completed thru-hikes, I’ve occasionally been asked about my pre-hike training routine.  As a contributor to Yogi’s PCT Handbook, I described my PCT training  like this:
I watched “Jeremiah Johnson” and “Lawrence Of Arabia” and I read a book about the Donner Party called “Desperate Passage.”

. . . but until you start, maybe stay on that couch.


When asked what I would do differently next time, I said I would get “Desperate Passage” in paperback instead of hardcover.

So I’m not that into pre-trail physical training.  Why?  I’ve come to believe that the best and most efficient exercise for hiking the trail is actually hiking on the trail.  So I could spend two months physically training for a five month hike.  Or I could spend the first month of that hike physically training for the other four.  Will that first month hurt more than it will for someone who’s been exercising for two months?  Possibly.  Because they spent the previous two months in pain, while I spent them on the couch blissfully eating Funyuns.  I’m pretty sure I win that round.

Now, if I had to hit the ground running?  If I was attempting a speed record, or had to be in school by the middle of August, or someone was paying me by the mile?  Yeah, absolutely, pre-trail physical training makes sense.  But for most people, there really isn’t any sort of necessary rigorous schedule at the beginning of an AT hike.  There aren’t 150-mile stretches without resupply.  No 35-mile stretches with no water.  No one coming up from behind and killing the slow people just for being slow.
People who are used to the rat race sometimes have a hard time listening to their bodies and adjusting to life at walking speed.  But sooner or later most realize that being on trail isn’t a race.  Although there is rodent feces pretty much all over the place.

And the thing is, blind people have thru-hiked.  So has a guy with one leg.  Diabetics.  Smokers.  Obese folks.  A guy carrying a tuba.  I’ll repeat that slowly:  A guy.  Carrying.  A tuba.  If there’s anything even remotely healthy about you, you can thru-hike without exercising beforehand.  People who think Nutella is a food group have done it.  Come to think of it, most of the people who successfully thru-hike think Nutella is a food group.

So let’s say you accept the proposition that you don’t need to exercise.  That doesn’t mean you don’t have to train.  You do.  You just need to train mentally.  You may have heard people say that thru-hiking is 90% mental, and that works out well for me because I have often been described as “completely mental.”  So I figure I have 10% to spare.  But maybe you don’t have that margin of error, or like me you just want to make sure.  In that case, you need to do what I call “Situational Training.”

Situational Training prepares your mind for the situations you’ll face on trail that aren’t part of your normal life.  And that’s important.
So here (after the longest intro in the history of trail blogging) is my 14 Day Appalachian Trail Situational Training Schedule.  If you’re like me, you’ll do it and successfully complete an AT thru-hike.
(Note: I can’t imagine you’re like me.  That’s just a turn of phrase.  Still, do the peeing outside part anyway, if only to horrify your neighbors)

Starting on day one, and for every day of this schedule, put on the clothes you wore yesterday, stand in front of the mirror, and prepare to answer questions about your hike by saying, “about 2100 miles.  About 5 months.  About 15-20 miles.  I haven’t seen any bears.  I was carrying an accordion but I sent it home” (the last is the answer to the question, “are you carrying a weapon”).

Appalachian Trail Situational Training Schedule

Day 1
Start peeing outside.

Day 2
Go online and look up possible exercises.  Realize all of that looks exhausting.  Instead, lay on the couch and flick around the channels until you come across Cliffhanger starring Sylvester Stallone.  Realize that the bad guy’s girlfriend also played the mom in The Princess Diaries.  Resolve never to let anyone know that you’ve seen The Princess Diaries enough times to notice that.  Because that's exactly the sort of thing that gets you a trail name you don't want. 

Day 3
After dressing and talking to yourself in the mirror, put in iPod earphones and play Wagon Wheel on a continuous loop all day.
Hour 1 will be somewhat enjoyable.
Hours 2-4 will be progressively more annoying.
By hour 5, you will fantasize about traveling back in time and murdering the person who wrote Wagon Wheel.
Somewhere between hours 7 and 8 you will no longer notice it at all.  That’s right where you want to be.

Day 4
Go on an online hiking forum or Facebook Group and ask what tent you should carry.  More than half of the responses will involve why you should carry a hammock instead.  Realize that talking about gear makes you hate people.  And gear.

Day 5
Wash underwear.

Day 6
Start eating nothing but Lipton Sides, Idahoan Potatoes, cheese, and Snickers bars.  Continue for the remainder of the training (see exception below).

Day 7
Turn heat off in house.  Open windows.  Sleep on floor.

Day 8
In the morning: think about showering, but decide against it.

In the afternoon:
Carefully measure out 1/4 cup of Gold Bond Medicated Powder.
Swallow it.
Begin vomiting.
On a yellow legal pad start writing the following: “I will stay away from unlabeled bags of white powder in hiker boxes.”

Keep writing until you stop throwing up.
Maybe go ahead and take that shower after all.

Day 9
Change socks, throw underwear in trash.

Day 10
Eat a pint of Ben & Jerrys for breakfast and an entire large meat-lovers pizza for lunch.  And another pizza for dinner, with a pint of Ben & Jerrys for dessert.

Day 11
In the morning, attempt to hitchhike to the next town over by yourself.  Give up after two hours.  In the afternoon, stand in the same spot and try again, but with a female friend.  You’ll learn the importance of this lesson later.  Hint: It’s not that hitching is easier after noon.

Day 12
Start reading “A Walk In The Woods.”  Quit a few hundred pages in.  Instead, find someone you recently met but don’t know very well, and invite them to share a hotel room with you.  Assuming that, like me, you’re not attractive enough to get away with that sort of thing, they’ll look at you like you just asked them if you can hide a body in their basement.  The response isn’t important; the asking is the thing, and you need to practice.  Because on trail they’ll say yes if it means a hotel room costs twenty bucks instead of forty.  Has anyone explained to you that you’ll be staying in forty dollar hotel rooms?  No?  You will.  They’ll be just south of appalling, and you’ll think it’s a forty dollar slice of heaven.  Unless you can get in there for twenty.

Day 13
Go into a local upscale swanky hotel and tell the desk clerk you’ll give him $20 for a room for the night.  Tell him you’re not leaving until you get a room for that price.  This isn’t really part of the training, but did you see the look on that guy’s face?  And the security guy’s face?  He looked angry, didn’t he?  And he had fists the size of Tom Clancy novels.  You probably would have soiled your drawers if you hadn’t thrown them out on Day 9. 

Day 14
Get in shower fully clothed and turn the temperature all the way to cold.  Stay in there for two hours chanting, “no rain, no pain, no Maine.”  Upon exiting shower, slip and break ankle.


Before sharing this training schedule with you I submitted it to three Appalachian Trail hikers for review.  Sharon “Wonder” Hart called it “something you’d have to be a complete idiot to do.”   Angela “Roots” Sally said it was “at best ill-advised and at worst verges on reckless and irresponsible.”  Mike “Cool Breeze” Smith said it was “just what the doctor ordered.  Dr. Lecter.  Dr. Mengele.  That kind of doctor.”
Since I could easily describe thru-hiking using all of those phrases: the plan is perfect.

And if you need one final bit of demotivation regarding exercise, keep in mind that most healthy people aren’t any fun.  All they want to talk about is their Vegan CrossFitBit and their Broccoli Kale P90X Smoothies and how many burpees they can do.  I don’t even know what a burpee is.  Until recently, I thought it had to do with vegetable seeds, but it’s apparently some sort of exercise.  Let those people get on out ahead of you.  Hike with my people.  Your people.  The alarmingly out of shape, mentally strong people.  We’ll see you out there!  Unless you start a day ahead of us, in which case we will never, ever, ever catch up to you.  So have a great hike!


Wednesday, January 21, 2015

“Wild” Debates On The PCT (Part One): Furniture

The Pacific Crest Trail is a National Scenic Trail that stretches approximately 2,650 miles from Mexico to Canada through California, the State of Jefferson, Oregon, and Washington.  In the recent past, every year saw a couple of hundred “thru-hikers” attempt to hike the entire trail in one hiking season.  But due to the recent success of the book and movie “Wild,” many hikers have expressed fears that the trail will become overcrowded with Oprah Winfrey fans wearing enormous backpacks and ill-fitting boots with red shoelaces.

And while the sheer number of potential hikers is itself a concern for a group that prizes solitude in nature (when not blogging in nature or watching Breaking Bad on a smartphone in nature), it is the impact of so many people that has so many other completely different people concerned.
Sugarpine and Lingo trade the certainty of hard ground
for the possibility of bedbugs.

This three part series will examine a number of concerns being debated in the hiking community.  And while it may not alleviate any concerns or resolve any issues, it will at least provide something to do until hiking season starts.  Because none of us is as nuts as Justin “Trauma” Lichter and Shawn “Pepper” Forry. 


The Comforts Of Home: Too Much Furniture

The 2014 hiking season saw a dramatic rise not only in the number of hikers on the PCT, but also in the number of hikers apparently carrying large pieces of furniture.

“There was a couch at Scissors Crossing, and another one outside of Big Bear,” said Renee “SheRa” Patrick, “I can only imagine that they were carried there by hikers and abandoned when they realized that couches are too heavy for a thru-hike.  I mean, a section hike, sure.  Maybe somewhere in Oregon.  But in the desert?  It’s crazy.”


But not crazy to some people.  “People have been carrying ottomans on the PCT for years,” notes Lint Bunting, “and everyone celebrated Anish carrying a Summit II Barcalounger on her record-setting speed hike just a few years ago.  Granted, hikers shouldn’t have left the couches out there, but I think that’s an LNT issue that can be overcome with a little bit of education.  And possibly lighter couches.  Maybe a day bed.  Something like that.”

In 2008 these hikers famously carried a picnic table
the length of California and Oregon, finally abandoning
it near the Eagle Creek Trail.


Others aren’t so sure.  “Maybe this is the sort of thing that’s okay for the Appalachian Trail, with their nightstands with whisper-close drawer slides and sleigh beds with smoked oak finishes and classic revival style hardware features, but the PCT is supposed to be more of a wilderness experience,” says Kolby “Condor” Kirk, “I mean, sure.  A gooseneck accent chair is nice in camp at the end of the day.  But where does that lead?  Large groups have been carrying entire living room sets up the AT for years.  Is that what we want?”

Some who have hiked the AT don’t understand the controversy.  “Yeah, furniture, absolutely,” says Chris “AT Bozo” Kounkel, “carrying furniture is part of the social experience.  At the end of a long day you pull up your Adirondack, Papasan, Chaise a bureau, what have you.  Everyone sits around the fire and relaxes.  I carry a Savonarola, which is a folding armchair dating from the Italian renaissance.  Are there hikers who DON’T carry furniture?”
A typical Appalachian Trail Campsite in Vermont

In recent years, AT hikers have switched to lighter furniture.
But while it’s true that almost everyone carries furniture on the AT, it seems the days of the 9-piece Counter Height Storage Dining Table With Lazy Susan And Matching Sideboard With Built-in Wine Rack are a thing of the past.  It’s a trend that not everyone applauds.  According to Karine “Blister Sister” Kelleher, “most hikers today?  They wouldn’t even be willing to carry the Lazy Susan.  Which is more than a little ironic.”



“Living in Pennsylvania, we see a lot of furniture come through,” explains Matt “matthewski” Weinstone, “but it’s not like anyone is carrying Chesterfields or Canopy Beds anymore.  Lots of butterfly chairs.  Director’s chairs.  The occasional Chiavari.  Lightweight furniture is what’s in with today’s thru-hiker.”


Perhaps, then, ridiculously heavy furniture is just a phase that PCT hikers will outgrow, and they will transition, like their AT cousins, to slightly less heavy but equally ridiculous furniture.  Only time will tell, most likely in the form of a Howard Miller Mechanical Chiming Grandfather Clock abandoned somewhere in the Glacier Peak Wilderness. 





Note: Thank you to the hikers who allowed me to fake quote them for this article.
Photo credits: Chelsea White, Anna Ball, Lint Bunting




Sunday, January 4, 2015

I've Been Everywhere

I was totin' my pack along the snowy East Glacier Road
When along came a pickup with some haybales as its load.
"If you're going to East Glacier, Mack, with us you can ride."
And so I climbed into the cab and then I settled down inside.
He asked me if I'd been on trail when the snow was coming down.
And I said, "Listen, I've traveled every trail in the Triple Crown."

I've been everywhere, man
I've hiked every trail, man
Crossed the deserts bare, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
Of hikin' I've had my share, man
I've been everywhere.

I've been to Steamboat, Vernon, Lima, Snowqualmie,
Pie Town, Quincy, Rawlins, Hiawassee,
Wrightwood, Packwood, Dubois, Drakesbad,
Pinedale, Troutdale, Macks Inn, Seiad,
Winter Park, Benchmark, Manning Park, Cracker Barrel,
Helena, Salida, and Sawtelle, what the hell?

(chorus)

I've been to Daleville, Leadville, Burney, Andover,
Mt. Laguna, Caledonia, Anaconda, Hanover,
Rutland, Ashland, Monson, Durango,
Chief Mountain, Roan Mountain, Bear Mountain, Frisco,
Tennessee to Mojave/Tehachapi, Twin Lakes,
Grand Lake, Trout Lake, Crater Lake for Pete's sake.

(chorus)

I've been to Damascus, Columbus, Stehekin, Catawba,
Silverton, Silverthorne, Tahoe, and Chama,
Cascade Locks, Millinocket, Big Bear, Darby,
Yellowstone, Duncannon, Timberline, Tuolumne,
Kincora, Etna, Hachita, Donner Pass,
Sonora Pass, Muir Pass, Mather Pass kicked my ass.

(chorus)

I've been to Lordsburg, Gatlinburg, Pearisburg, Colorado,
Pine Grove, Lake Morena, Leadore, Waynesboro,
Boiling Springs, Warner Springs, Hot Springs, Pagosa Springs,
Ghost Ranch, Old Station, Harpers Ferry, Deming,
Idyllwild, Erwin, Green Valley, Sierra City,
Atlantic City, Silver City, Lake City, what a pity.

(chorus)