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.

On the trail - February 26, 2012

My day trip plan was to snowshoe up to Gem Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park.  It was a bright and sunny day when I arrived at the Lumpy Ridge parking area.  I spotted a couple of hikers coming off the trail towards their car.  I asked them if the trail was snowshoe-able and they told me no.  They said the trail was just spotty snow and some patches of ice.  I set the snowshoes aside and set off in my North Face boots bringing along my ski poles for balance.

The Lumpy Ridge trailhead is one of two ways to access the trail up to Gem Lake.  The other way is to go through the McGregor Ranch just down the road.  The Lumpy Ridge trailhead trail goes up for .5 of a mile until it connects with the Gem Lake trail.  From the intersection it is 1.2 miles to the lake.  You start at an elevation of 7,870 feet and climb 960 feet up to Gem Lake, which sits at 8,830 feet in elevation.

The trailhead information board had a sign posted on it, “Warning Lion Country”.  It read, “Mountain lions frequent this area.  Mountain lions are powerful predators.  They can hurt or kill you.”  The safety suggestions on the sign included:  “keeping children next to you, jogging is not recommended, if you do, do not jog alone, and travel in groups.”

The sign went on to explain that if you see a lion:  “STOP.  Do not run.  Pick up small children.  Stand tall.  And if attacked, Fight Back!”  If I actually did see a lion, I would stop, because I wanted to get my camera out.  I would not run either; that would make the picture taking difficult.  And if I was attacked, my ski poles would surely protect me from the savage beast.

That was the plan anyway.  In reality, if a mountain lion stalked me from above and jumped on my back and sunk its teeth into my neck…well, I wouldn’t be writing this now would I if that had happened.

With all this lion safety education fresh in my mind, I headed up the trail.  Suddenly, I thought I saw a blur of tan color cross the trail up ahead of me.  It must have been my imagination, but then I looked down and spotted a whole bunch of tracks in the snow.  Whatever had made them was running all over the place.

“Hikers aren’t that hard to catch,” I thought to myself.  There were no signs of fresh blood or torn pieces of clothing lying around either.  I then heard some rocks tumble from above from the cliffs on the sides of the trail.  I rationalized that the noise was just falling icicles and snow as it melted in the sun on the rocks.  I cautiously continued on.

When I reached the lake, it was frozen and covered with snow.  I took pictures of the amphitheater framed lake and discovered a snow angel someone had made on the ice.  With the afternoon shadows lengthening, I descended from the lake.  The hike down was covered in shade and a bit colder than I’d expected, but I had no more faux lion encounters.

When I got home, I looked up images of mountain lion tracks in snow on the internet.  The tracks that I had seen by the trail all had nail impressions, which almost certainly identified them as being made by a dog.  I rested easy now knowing for sure that I had not been stalked by one of the mysterious mountain lions of Gem Lake.

Good Friday Sleep Out

Back in the day, when the neighborhood kids and I were between adolescence and adulthood, there was this really warm Good Friday in Northbrook, Illinois.  It was so mild that we decided to sleep out in one of our backyards to celebrate the event.  We set up a huge canvas tent and laid out all our gear in the musty enclosure.  At dusk, we set out to wander the neighborhood in search of adventure.

At the time, lighting things on fire was big.  We were experimenting with cigarette lighter fluid and its affects while lit on the bottoms of our shoes.  We happened to be doing this on a neighbors patio and did not realize at the time our actions might be misunderstood.  They were.

With the warm spring breezes blowing and the spring peeper frogs singing, we continued to roam the nearby neighborhoods.  Our expedition was soon interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing.  The kid whose house we were sleeping out at recognized this sound immediately.  It was the bell that was rang to call him back home.  This was rather odd as this bell hadn't been sounded in years as we were evolving toward adulthood.

When we arrived back at the tent, we were informed by one of the kids mom's that the police had been there and that the tent had been searched.  They had uncovered flammable substances and taken them as evidence.  She had given the police all of our names and we were to go down to the station the following day to be interrogated.

What the heck?  Well, remember the neighbor's patio?  They thought some kids were trying to burn down their house, so they called the police.

Some of us did go to the police station the next day and had to explain what we were up to.  The police had tried to ignite the substances they found to no avail.  It was gun powder from rocket launching cartridges, but we did not bother to explain that to them.

One of the kids was unable to attend our little gathering at the police station and I thought I was doing them a favor by filling in his record.  I mentioned the kids middle name and they thanked me for my attention to detail.

The police gave us a warning and let us go.  We had avoided doing time that Easter weekend.  We were young and reckless and had no clue as to how other people perceived our actions.  This behavior eventually subsided and we all grew up, sort of.

By the way officer, his middle name is "Gilbert".

Norway's Finest

We met in 2001, my rookie year for the Poudre Wilderness Volunteers in Fort Collins, Colorado.  His name was Ras Erdal.  He was assigned to mentor me on one of my first hikes patrolling the trails of the Canyon Lakes Ranger District for the National Forest Service.

When I saw his name next to mine on the schedule, I figured I would be hiking with a fellow from India.  When I met him, I was surprised to see an energetic 69 year old Norwegian man.  We seemed to hit it off right away, due to his easy going manner and our mutual love for the outdoors.

We hiked a few times the following season together and then I decided to drop out of the organization after the 2002 season.  The years past and I decided to reapply to PWV in 2010.  I was told I missed the deadline.  Little did I know at the time that I did not need to reapply.

In the spring of 2011, I attended a meeting for PWV and recognized an old friend, Ras Erdal.  He looked at me kind of funny and then greeted me warmly, remembering our brief friendship a decade earlier.  It was at that moment I pinpointed what I liked about PWV, Ras Erdal.

I hiked exclusively with Ras in 2011 and looked forward to our time together on the trails.  In 2012, we attended PWV's Spring Training event and shared a tent for the weekend.  We had become great friends.

Ras has encouraged me to write and I have encouraged him to hike higher and farther that an 80 year old man is supposed to.  Ras isn't your typical 80 year old man though.  He skied Arapahoe Basin last season and he leads this 52 year old up the mountain.

So, at the end of this hiking season, I wanted to thank Mr. Erdal for being a little hard of hearing and putting up with me and my sometimes outspoken opinions.  I have enjoyed our adventures and look forward to many more in the years to come.

Keep hiking to the clouds Ras.

Inspiration

Sometimes in life we need to step back and reflect on an accomplishment to fully absorb the magnitude of it and what its significance means to us.  Last year, a friend of mine ran and completed a 100 mile trail race in the mountains of Colorado.  That is the equivalent to just under four consecutive marathons.  If the amount of miles doesn’t blow your mind, the fact that this guy was not a runner should.  He had not run more than a 10K event in his life before he decided to train for and attempt the Leadville 100 Trail Race.

My friend’s exposure to his brother’s attempt of this feat in 2010 prompted his own attempt at competing in the race.  His brother “inspired” him with his effort. 

The following excerpts and observations are from my friend’s blog before the race last year:

“He plopped down on the side of the trail and announced, through gasped breaths, that he was "done." He said he simply could not continue up the mountain. It was too much. He just couldn’t get his legs to work. Everything hurt intensely…

…he must have felt like he had reached the utter bottom of his well.

 …rather than quit there as he had planned, he continued on into the dark night.  And he kept going for about 24 more miles and nine more hours.

Unfortunately, he eventually missed the cutoff time and was dropped from the race. But to me, despite this disappointment, the real message was loud and clear:

 His well was A LOT deeper than he realized.

 In my head, all I could see was the image of him moaning on the side of the trail announcing that he was “done,” but somehow finding it within himself to continue on for almost an entire marathon’s worth of mountain running through the middle of the night.

 That level of mental toughness seemed inconceivable to me; an entirely new concept.

I saw many runners who had the same experience my brother had – the necessarily painful but rewarding experience of finding out that their respective wells were much deeper than they knew.

 At some point during that race, almost every runner doubted whether they could go on, whether they would finish. But they pressed on anyway.

The word I thought of that night, the word that still continues to resonate in my head today is “inspiring.”

 No, I’m not really a runner, but I am curious to find out how deep my own well is.

That night I was inspired to find out how far I can go after I think I can’t go any farther.”

– JP Martin, June 2011

JP Martin trained for an entire year, ran in, and completed his race in less than 28 hours in August of 2011.  His brother completed the race last year as well in less than the allotted time of 30 hours.  This is inspiring to me.

In a world of negativity and sometimes great despair, we all need to be inspired every once in awhile.  We need stories like Lance Armstrong beating cancer and winning seven consecutive Tour de France bike races.  We need stories like Brooke and Gavin walking from Mexico to Canada on the Pacific Crest Trail.  We need stories like JP Martin’s to inspire us to embark on our own epic journeys to see what is possible and maybe just how limitless those possibilities really are.