The Test Run [part 2]

9 am - Up we go

What I thought was going to be a hike, is actually a climb. We're going up more than a thousand feet. At this point, I still don't know it. From what little I do know about topo maps, it looks like a pretty flat hike Mark has plotted for us. Wrong! The first point of the trail is marked by an old 'No Trespassing' sign. It's impossible to tell who the property owner once was, because gun nuts have blasted the signs full of holes. I always hate seeing evidence of these people. Shooting randomly at a sign can send stray bullets flying into the hiking area behind where people might be on the trail. We start off the 4x4 trail, and onto the hiking trail up the mountain.


9:30 - Old age becomes a factor

While the trail we are on doesn't run too steep yet, the weight of my gear is dragging on me. The pack is 25 pounds, but is starting to feel more like 80. The fanny pack and camera on my waist are starting to irritate me, so I pause to remove them. I learn a valueable lesson at this point. When wearing a 25 pound pack, and walking along a ledge on the side of a mountain, finish puting the pack on, before you start moving. Especially do not find yourself bent over towards the valley. It's quite a sensation feeling yourself being pulled off of a cliff. Hello Gravity! Lesson learned, I move to catch up with my team.

The climb starts to get difficult. We lose the trail, and are forced to resort to rock climbing in the general direction of the waypoints Mark has set on his GPS. I examine the map. I'm starting to be able to visualize the peaks and valleys as they are represented by the topo map's contour lines. I'm becoming a real adventurer! Soon, we are able to pick the trail back up, and the going gets easier. With all the weight, it's still a faster pace than I would like, but it feels good, the activity, the clean air, the scenery....I can see this quickly becoming a habit.


10 am - An education on hiker nutrition

We start getting close to the Potasi mine. It's within sight, but still a bit of a hike around the hill. We're at a point just over 6,000 feet, and Mark announces that he's not going to make it. It's getting warm, much warmer than we had expected. It had rained heavily all week. The peak of Mount Charleston is capped with snow. We expected it to be cooler. And Mark had put on a bender two days prior. He spent all of Wednesday in recovery, suffering a miserable hangover*. He was still suffering the after effects, and the dehydration. He was forced to turn around and head back to the truck. He's going to rest, and Jeremy and I will complete the goals. We are lacking the GPS waypoints set in Mark's GPS unit, but we have the final destination marked on Jeremy's GPS unit, and we have the map, along with my compass. We're sure we can finish this.

* Later that night, Mark would comment on things to remember before going on long hikes. His last adventure he didn't finish because he didn't sleep the night before. "Ok, things to remember. Sleep before a hike. Don't hike with a hangover." I think I'll take his advice on both.


11 am - At the mine

The tailings from the mine extend a long ways down the face of the mountain. It's impossible to get to the opening of the mine without climbing over these massive rock piles. It's amazing to see all the discharged material from inside the mountain. It's a bit unstable, but so heavily packed that it's mostly safe, if you're careful. We make it up the hills of rock, and to the landing outside the mine opening. The mine had been closed up. One entrance blocked by fencing that had been cut open and peeled back, the other blocked in with a wall that had been broken open. Graffiti, mostly white supremacist hate messages. Thinking back to the signs at the bottom of the mountain with all the bullet holes, I'm glad I have my machete strapped to my hip as we wander into the mouth of the mine.

It doesn't take long before we cannot see a thing in the mine. Our eyes have been exposed to bright sunlight at high altitude for a couple of hours, and the sudden drop into the absolute darkness is difficult to adjust to. Jeremy leads the way with a small pocket light he has, that gives off a blue glow, and my camp lantern, which seems to give off less light than his little keychain flashlight.

We paused a minute to close our eyes and get the sun exposure out. Now that we can both see better, we move on deeper into the caves. It's eerie to me, and I wouldn't mind turning back and moving on to the final destination, but Jeremy is enthralled with running around in here. Every time we come to a turn, or a shaft he peers down into the depths, thrilled that he's unable to see the bottom. Jeremy is moving faster than I care to go, and passes my lantern back to me. I realize why his little blue light seems brighter. Jeremy has my lantern set to lamp mode, so it's glowing around him, rather than flashlight mode, giving off a more direct light. I change it, and we can see better.

The mine isn't that bad. It's not held together with support beams. It's carved out of solid rock, and even a wimp like me feels safe in here. Even so, it's very dark, and I am not looking forward to falling down a shaft I didn't notice (we passed several that we didn't notice until we were heading back), and would like to get back out to the sun, where I can fall down a mountain from the outside. Jeremy talks about being eager to return and explore deeper.

Thanks, Jeremy...I think I'll pass.