On the trail - March 25, 2012

Back in 1997, I strategically placed my cross country skis and poles inside my Buick Regal Limited and drove out to Colorado from Illinois.  It was the month of March and the temperatures were approaching 70 degrees by the time the Rockies came into view.  I skied that year at the Devil’s Thumb Ranch in Tabernash and at the Nordic Center in Breckenridge.  The fresh mountain air coupled with the beautiful scenery was quite a treat for a flatlander from down below.  I remember navigating the groomed trails over rolling hills in my shirt sleeves without any problems.

This March, my family and I spent most of our spring break in Steamboat Springs.  My wife and I enjoyed a snowshoe adventure up on Rabbit Ears Pass.  With sunny skies and temperatures in the mid-50’s, we took in the scenery and enjoyed a snack in an aspen grove.  We also enjoyed a day on the slopes where we skied through Steamboat slush instead of their infamous Champaign powder.  The cross country skiing portion of the trip was another story.

I decided to head up to Rabbit Ears Pass to cross country ski the West Summit area where I had snowshoed last November.  While the weather was unseasonably warm, I discovered the snow on the trail was hard packed ice.  My body soon became tense due to a general lack of confidence skiing on this slick surface.  I had to visualize my intended path on the downhill sections and make sure there was a bail out area just in case I tried to make friends with a tree.  This was not fun.

As I continued my journey, nervous energy and the heat of the day had me peeling off layers of clothes until all I was wearing was my shell.  I also took off my gloves.  As I made my way through the trees in a downhill section of the trail, I spotted a large tree with a lot of snow at its base.  Maybe this tree was magnetic because I was making a beeline straight for it.  I tried to stop my forward progress by sitting down.  My last resort was my hand brakes and that is when the soft flesh of my hands met the crusty iced over snow.  I believe the scientific name for it is bloody knuckles.

One of my pet peeves is an injury that could have been avoided.  While I did avoid hitting the tree and sustained only minor flesh wounds, I was irritated that these hand issues could have been avoided by just wearing my gloves.

A short while after my spill, I saw a trail map on a signpost at the intersection of two trails.  I looked it over and remembered that close topographical lines on a map mean one of two things; either the land is rising up or it is going down.  I saw the hills in front of me and proceeded to go up knowing that I couldn’t possible ski down.  I struggled up to a high point on the trail and stopped to contemplate my situation.

A young skier, who was carrying his skis and walking down the trail, came by and we got to talking.  He informed me that I was only about a third of the way on this loop trail.  He told me that if he had run in to me on this trail and asked me what I should do, the correct answer would be to turn around.  So feeling a bit defeated, I took off my skies and walked down the steep hills I had just climbed.

In a valley, after sinking in up to my waist with only one of my legs, I reluctantly put my skies back on and managed to ski back to the trailhead in one piece.  I think I’ll stick to snowshoes from now on for my winter adventures in the mountains.

On the trail - March 18, 2012

Lance Armstrong is a person I have always admired.  His focus, determination, and attention to detail helped him win 7 consecutive Tour de France bike races.  If some people are considered “type A” personalities, Lance falls into the “type superman A” category.  His heart is said to be the size of a pronghorn antelope’s.

In the hiking world, there is another “type superman A” personality.  His name is Andrew Skurka.  He was named “Adventurer of the Year” by Outside magazine for his epic long-distance hikes and has covered nearly 30,000 miles since 2002.

Andrew has recently teamed up with National Geographic to write a book called “The Ultimate Hiker’s Gear Guide – Tools & Techniques to Hit the Trail”.  The book can be described in one word – awesome.

In the book, Andrew delineates between what he describes as Ultimate Campers and Ultimate Hikers.  While he points out that one is not better than the other, he says that an Ultimate Camper is one who enjoys Type 1 fun.  Type 1 fun is fun to do and fun to talk about later.  To Ultimate Campers, backpacking should be leisure, not a challenge.

On the other hand, Ultimate Hikers enjoy Type 2 fun.  Type 2 fun is not fun to do but fun to talk about later.  Ultimate Hikers consider the physical and mental challenge of day-long hiking to be a valuable part of their backpacking experience.

There is also a Type 3 fun and I believe Andrew’s book was written in part to help people avoid this type of fun.  Type 3 fun is not fun to do and not fun to talk about later.  For all the bad times encountered on the trail whether you were hiking or backpacking, this book will help you prepare to engage in either Type 1 or Type 2 fun on the trail.

There is more to the book than just fun though.  In a telling quote from his book, after he had crossed a 657- mile stretch in the Canadian Arctic in which he had not crossed a road or seen another human being for 24-days, Andrew states,

“After finding the migration trail of the Porcupine caribou, I began to cry uncontrollably, realizing that in this vast and untamed wilderness, I was like them:  While being tortured by hellacious mosquitoes, soaked by torrential rains, and stalked by grizzlies and wolves, we were all trying to stay moving, and we slept and ate only to continue our constant forward progress.”

A man in motion stays in motion and Andrew has done some mind boggling long-distance hiking.  He once AVERAGED 33 miles a day for 207 consecutive days.  Compare that to the cyclists on the Tour de France who average 30 miles an hour for 2,100 miles in 21 days and you’ll understand why I think Andrew falls into the “type superman A” category.

Andrew also states in his book,

“The skills I have learned out there, like good decision making and resourcefulness, also serve me well in the Land of the Soft.  But perhaps the most important thing I return with is humility – recognition that natural powers are at work that I will never control or fully understand, and that will prevail long after I am gone.”

I highly recommend you pick up a copy of Andrew’s new book “The Ultimate Hiker’s Gear Guide”.  It will help you reframe the way you think about navigating in the great outdoors and help you to expand your horizons further into the backcountry.

On the trail - March 11, 2012

This past winter season, I have been drawn to high mountain lakes in Rocky Mountain National Park.  I have visited Mills, Bierstadt, Gem, Cub, and The Loch.  All of them were in their solid form; enabling me to view the surrounding mountains from unique perspectives.  While spring is on its way down below, winter stays long up there.  It is hard to imagine that all of the ice and snow will melt and there will be new obstacles to navigate on the hikes to these lakes in the summer.

Snowshoeing on frozen streams and above rocks and logs creates new routes to destinations that last only as long as winter stays.  On my journey to The Loch, I found myself on an alternate path that was much more challenging than the normal winter route over the frozen stream bed.  Although it added to the adventure, the side hill snowshoeing was a lot more uncomfortable than the level stream bed that I eventually followed on my way down.  The next time I snowshoe to The Loch, note to self, stick to the stream beds before heading up the final entry chute to the summit of the lake.

Another thing I will remember next time out is my gloves.  In my excitement to get going in the morning, I forgot some things and some were more important than others.  I have hiked many times without food, so all was not lost when I forgot to take along some apples, but while driving to the park, it suddenly occurred to me that I had forgotten to take a pair of gloves.  I could have stopped and bought some cheap ones, but that would have been like a man stopping and asking for directions.  So I decided to wing it.

When I got to the trailhead at Glacier Gorge, it was nice and warm, but windy and I knew it was only going to get windier up top at the lake.  I was contemplating not using my trekking poles and just putting my hands in my pockets when I realized I didn’t have those either, pockets.  I also considered balling my hands up and tucking them in my sleeves.

While pondering my dilemma, 3 girls pulled up and parked behind my Jeep.  While putting my snowshoes on at the trailhead, I saw them again, putting on their snowshoes.  One of the girls was having trouble getting one of her snowshoes on.  It turns out that she was trying to put it on backwards.  I pointed this out and this started a conversation that led to where we were all from.  They were from Illinois originally, but now lived in Denver, Illinois, and Florida.  Yes, the Florida girl was the one trying to put on her snowshoe backwards.

Anyway, after I mentioned that I had forgot my gloves, the girl that lived in Denver said she thought she might have an extra pair somewhere hidden in her car.  She went back to her car and came back with a wonderful, mismatched set of knitted finger gloves.  She said they were only worth like a dollar and that I could have them.  Trail magic strikes again.  I thanked her, snapped a few pictures for them, and headed down the trail with my hands warm and this story to tell.

The last thing to mention from this day was that I carried along a bandana that was just as valuable to me as my new gloves.  Since our noses run like faucets on the trail in winter, having something to wipe them with is important as well.

On the trail - March 4, 2012

At the beginning of my hike, I spotted an older gentleman and his wife coming towards me on the trail.  The man was smiling like he had just figured out the meaning of life.  He looked at me and said, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”  I replied to him that yes it was a beautiful day, perfect for a hike or snowshoe in Rocky Mountain National Park. 

We exchanged pleasantries and I learned that they were visiting from St. Louis.  They had been in the area for a week and this was their last day before getting back on a plane and heading home.  I mentioned that I was indeed fortunate to live here and be able to wake up in the morning, drive to the park for the day, and return home by evening.  We parted ways and I continued my hike to Cub Lake.

In all my trips to the park, this would be my first time on this trail.  The trailhead is located at the west end of Moraine Park and sits at 8,080 feet in elevation.  The trail skirts along river bottoms and weaves its way through aspen and pine forest rising a total of only 540 feet in its 2.3 mile length.  The lake sits at 8,620 feet.

From the moment I spotted the lake until it was only a memory on my way back, the wind sand blasted me with considerable force. On this day, the lake was frozen over and covered with about 6 inches of windblown snow. 

Being unfamiliar with this trail, I had hiked up to the lake, but had also lashed my snowshoes on my pack just in case I needed them.  Taking refuge from the wind behind a 6 foot tall boulder on the lakeshore, I chose to put them on now.

Dressed in L.L. Bean wind pants, gaiters, and an anorak, I was quite comfortable as I clomped in my snowshoes from end to end on the frozen lake.  I took some pictures and later would learn that you better check your camera lens after shooting into blowing snow.  The water spot affect on the photos is not a good look.

With my snowshoes on and the wind at my back, I said goodbye to my new friend Cub Lake.  It had been a spectacular site to see the snow capped mountains rising up from the flat surface of the snow covered lake.  I would definitely have to come back in the other seasons.  I imagine there will be spring peeper frogs singing near the lake, maybe some ducks on the lake in the summer, and colorful aspen displays in the fall.  I was excited about this trail that was so new to me.

The trail was considerably easier on snowshoes on the way down.  At one point, I chose to go off trail and follow a game trail.  The ensuing post holing through deep snow was a bit unexpected and I was relieved when I found my way back to the trail again.  About ¾ of the way back, I stopped and took off my snowshoes to resume hiking.  My arms felt a little heavy from relying on my trekking poles a little more than I realized on the hike up.  I carried them now as my hike was nearing its end.

The couple from St. Louis had been right.  It doesn’t get any better than this.  I was glad that I had tried a new trail on this day and looked forward to hiking it again in the future.