On the trail - April 22, 2012

Opening Day

 

There comes a time each Spring when the decision is made to remove the ski rack from my Jeep.  A ski season of fun is taken off and stored away until next Fall when the first flakes of snow fly again.  Luckily, there is another rack to be put back on in its place, the kayak rack.  This installation signals the start of flat water kayak season on the reservoirs and lakes in the area.  Like Opening Day in Major League Baseball, there is a renewed sense of possibilities as the kayak is loaded for its first voyage of the year.

This Spring in Northern Colorado has been a mild one, and I am a little surprised it has taken me this long to hit the water.  But on a beautiful 75 degree day with light winds, I set sail on Horsetooth Reservoir for my maiden voyage of 2012.

The reservoir lies still and peaceful.  The relatively clear water is high this time of year.  The concrete boat dock ramps are nearly completely under water.  I put in on the rocky shoreline and push off, taking my first paddle strokes.

I hear crickets that seem to be serenading me as my paddles enter and exit the water.  Cold water drips from my paddles and occasionally hits my bare legs inside my kayak.  It is good to be back on the water.  I have not been on it since last October, when a couple of early snowstorms ended the season a little prematurely for me.

I paddle along in the middle of the reservoir that is devoid of motorboat traffic on this quiet weekday afternoon.  I spot mule deer feeding on the hillsides on a banquet of emerging Spring foliage.  Their brownish-red coats match perfectly with the sandstone rocks around the reservoir.

I notice a lone Canadian goose out for an afternoon swim as I approach the docks of Inlet Bay.  They are all but abandoned for now with only the wild plants growing underneath them showing any signs of life.  Soon, they will be full of boats in every shape and size you can imagine.  For now, the skeleton framework stands quietly waiting for the boats annual arrival; like the cliffs for the swallows of Capistrano.

As I paddle on, my strokes become easier and easier.  My shoulder muscles remember this activity and seem to enjoy the repetition of its movement.  My field of vision is out ahead of me now as I scan the horizon of the water.  Occasionally, I look up to the cliffs around the water in search of any signs of animal activity.  I see no mountain lions or bears, just the mule deer feeding in their Shangri-La.

A whiff of the flowering trees and shrubs greets me as I head out of Inlet Bay and back toward South Bay.  The wind on the water greets me as well, but it is manageable and not cold.

I realize why I like flat water kayaking so much.  It is a very relaxing activity that lets your mind wander where it may.  In essence, you are rocked like a baby in the water as you paddle along.

I make it back and exit the kayak from the dock instead of the shoreline.  The journey is over for this day, but I am excited at the paddling yet to come.  For as with other opening days, the drama of the season lies ahead of us, waiting to be played out.

On the trail - April 15, 2012

When I was a kid, our house had plastic runners laid on top of the carpet in heavy use areas to protect it from dirt and moisture.  In the winter, our family would inevitably track snow in from our boots.  If left, undetected, these deposits melted into landmines of cold water waiting to trap unsuspecting passersby.  A “soaker” was that unexpected moment when you stepped on a puddle.  It was always a surprise and a nuisance.  Bare feet had to be dried off and socks had to be changed.

Wet feet were also a condition to be avoided when exploring in our woods across the street in the spring.  We had to cross marshy areas frequently on the trails.  Hopping from one grass clump to another was common practice, but there was always the unexpected, quicksand-like area that swallowed up your shoes with mud and water.

When you are hiking, wet feet are not what you want.  There really is no bombproof footwear solution for this either.  A myth in the world of outdoor gear is the term waterproof.  If what you wear is waterproof, chances are that if the moisture can’t get in, it can’t get out either.  In other words, say you have waterproof boots on and the water can’t penetrate your boots.  Well, when your feet get too warm because the boots are trapping the heat, they perspire and this moisture can’t get out.  You have now manufactured wet feet from the inside out.

The best you can hope for when hiking is to manage your exposure to moisture.  If you are hiking in the summer on a really wet trail, maybe you can wear sandals instead of hiking boots.  If you are hiking in the winter in the snow, maybe you can wear gaiters to keep most of the moisture from traveling into your boots.  And if you are going to be traveling in really wet areas were staying dry is almost impossible, maybe you need to have footwear that you can dry out fast over the fire at the end of the day.

Another way to increase your odds of keeping your feet dry when you hike is by using trekking poles.  They help you keep your balance when you walk on top of logs and rocks when crossing streams.  Just one trekking pole is all you need, but a pair of them works even better.

Keeping your feet clean is also important, especially on multiday hikes.  Wearing low rise gaiters, even in the summer, helps to keep rocks and debris out of your boots.

A good way to keep your feet clean is to hike with an extra pair of socks.  About halfway through your hike for the day, change your socks.  Then, wash out the old pair and hang them from your pack to dry.  This will help you have clean socks to sleep in by the time you go to bed that night.

Your feet are your mode of transportation when you hike, so you’d better take care of them.  Painful blisters can turn a memorable experience into a forgettable one pretty quick.  Taking the right precautions and knowing how to manage your battle with moisture on the trail can make all the difference for an enjoyable hiking experience.

On the trail - April 8, 2012

In the movie “Dead Poets Society”, Robin Williams plays a teacher who inspires his students to “carpe diem”, seize the day.  He encourages them to read poetry and to “suck the marrow out of life” quoting Thoreau.  He also challenges them to think outside the box.  He has them stand on top of their desks and take a look around to see what the view is like from up there.

With that same type of bravado, I recently took my first flying lesson at Leading Edge Flight Training at the Fort Collins/Loveland Municipal Airport.  And let me tell you, the view from on top of my desk that day was incredible.  It was a whole new way to experience the beautiful mountain scenery in Northern Colorado.

My instructor, Patrick Hinton, was gracious enough to grant me my wish of flying to Rocky Mountain National Park and back that day.  I was excited at the opportunity to see what the park would look like from a non-commercial airplane.  I learned there are regulations that a plane needs to fly at least 2,000 feet above the park to not disturb the wildlife.  We also could fly near Longs Peak, but not over it, due to its altitude.

On our early morning flight, Patrick showed me around the twin propeller plane as he went through the required pre-flight checklist.  The Diamond Twin Star DA-42 N16FA plane looked like a big fiberglass kayak with long wings attached to it.  I stepped up on the wing and lowered myself into my seat, careful not to bump the joystick now positioned between my legs. 

Patrick lowered the glass canopy, checked for propeller clearance and then fired up the diesel engines.  He handed me a headset to wear to muffle engine noise and to communicate with him.  We taxied for awhile and he had me steer the plane a little with my foot controls.  Soon, we were poised for takeoff on the runway.

Patrick gave it full power and we lifted off the runway.  The first thing I noticed, as we started our flight, was how quiet the plane was.  The speed at takeoff reminded me of a regular commercial airplane, without the loud jet engine noise.

At 150 mph and a climbing rate of 1,000 feet per minute, the distant mountains came up sooner than I expected.  I took as many pictures as I could as we closed in our destination, Longs Peak.  We were at an altitude of 13,900 feet when suddenly we hit some turbulence.  I was bucked up out of my seat momentarily and wondered where the rough air had come from.

Patrick explained that the mountains act like a rock in a river that creates an eddy behind it.  The winds aloft were hitting the other side of Longs Peak, creating an eddy of bumpy air on this side.  We banked to the right and headed back east.

In the brief turbulence, my photography skills were challenged, as the camera lens repeatedly hit the clear cockpit glass.  I had not expected that.

Nor did I expect that Patrick would now have me fly the plane almost all the way back!  I trusted him though when he told me that there was nothing I could do wrong that he couldn’t fix.  Patrick eventually took the controls and landed the plane.

What a great experience!  Here in Northern Colorado, I highly recommend you give flying a try at Patrick Hinton’s Leading Edge Flight Training.  Elsewhere, check out the Let’s Go Flying website at www.letsgoflying.com.  It is an experience you won’t soon forget.  Carpe Diem!

On the trail - April 1, 2012

April showers bring May flowers.  Let’s hope so.  Our recent relatively warm and dry winter in Colorado has transitioned into a warm and extremely dry spring.  This weather has put us in a very vulnerable position.  With the pine beetle epidemic turning the once green hillsides reddish brown, the stage seems set for a disaster.  Our landscape currently is the perfect storm for wildfire.

Smoky the Bear says that only you can prevent forest fires.  Even if we all never light a single match this upcoming hiking and camping season, we will still be at risk from something out of our control, lightning.

One of my favorite folk songs is “Cold Missouri Waters” by Cry, Cry, Cry.  It is a song about the tragic Mann Gulch Fire in Montana in 1949.  13 smoke jumpers were killed by this forest fire that was started by a lightning strike.

The main character in the song, the crew chief Dodge, survives by setting a small fire in front of the main fire and lying down in the middle of it as the firestorm roars over him.  The panicked crew thought Dodge was crazy when he asked them to step into the fire he’d set.  He told them it was the only chance they’d get.  They cursed him and ran for it instead.

It was a decision that cost 13 of them their lives and haunted Dodge until the day he died.  Like the phoenix, Dodge rose from the ashes of his fire and found only one other survivor.  When more help arrived, the two survivors helped carry the bodies of their fallen comrades to the cold Missouri river.  They placed crosses on the hillside where the men died as well.  It is a really sad story.

How did this happen?  How did these smoke jumpers get caught in a situation that cost them their lives?  When they arrived from the air onto the scene, they were in a good position to fight the fire with the river at their back.  Unfortunately, the fire crowned and jumped the valley, blocking their escape route back to the river.

The conditions were ripe for a disaster that year.  The song says it was the hottest day on record and the forest was tinder dry.  In Colorado, we had a similar tragedy back in 1994.  The South Canyon Fire on Storm King Mountain, near Glenwood Springs, Colorado, killed 14 firefighters.  Once again, the fire was started by lightning.

In nature, fire can renew an area, but it takes time.  I never visited Yellowstone National Park before the horrible fires of 1988.  I wish I had, because when I saw it in 2000, the park was still recovering from the fires.  Even though it was 12 years later, the scars of the fire were still plainly visible.  Decades of a forest management plan that suppressed wildfires had created a fuel supply, that once ignited, burned so intensely that the resulting fire was uncontainable until the first snows of fall arrived.

March statistically is the snowiest month of the year in Colorado.  That did not happen this year.  While I do not want to jinx us and see 3 feet of snow in April, an occasional soaking rain would be nice.  All I am asking for is that it rains say every Tuesday in April; so that we can see those May flowers.