The Test Run [part 3]

11:15 - Out of the mine

It's after we get out of the mine, that we discover Mark's planning error. The route he has us taking looks good on the map, but now that we're standing on the mountain we see the mistake. The next leg of our stroll is going to require we scale the face of a rock 80 feet up. Once on the top, the route flattens out, but we cannot climb this. It's not really Mark's fault. The map, at the scale we have, does not show clearly how the terrain is layed out. A higher resolution map would have shown the cliff. Jeremy and I started scouting a new route.

It probably took us half an hour of discussion (and glorious resting) to plot out the new route we were going to take. The most direct, reasonably passable route was rocky, and perilous, by my eye. Jeremy thought it was easy looking. In the end, we ended up splitting up and meeting at a point on the other side. I took the path back, down the mine tailings - and badly twisting an ankle - to the hill, then returning to the climb up the ridge of the hill. We ended up meeting at our destination point at about the same time, even though my route was a much greater distance. And considering that I was carrying a full pack, unlike Jeremy's small, light backpack, I think I made the right choice. It went fine for him. I would not have survived to tell this great story.

While we ventured on our new route, we heard bomb testing on the airforce range in the distance. I stopped to catch my breath while Jeremy tested out the echo.

The going to the next stopping point was difficult climbing, but the soil was soft from the rain, and the traction was excellent. It was easy to get solid footing, without any slipping. My ankle was killing me. We were prodding along, heading for the Geocache that Jeremy was after. I was ready to turn around, and roll myself down the mountain to get back, and suddenly....I found my paradise.

The hill flattened out into a clearing. The ground was smooth, and not too rocky. There was no ground foliage. In particular, no cacti. Gaps in the trees provided panoramic views in to the east and west. It is the perfect campsite. Big enough to sit 4 or 5 tents, well set away from each other. With no plant life in the center, a perfect place for a fire ring. Jeremy marked a waypoint on the GPS, and I marked the approximate area on my map. I knew I'd be spending many trips at this spot in the future.


12:15 - Lunch

Jeremy decides to stop on the side of the mountain, 480 feet from the final destination. He breaks out the cheese and crackers kit, I peel open the beef jerky. Dropping the pack feels great. It's actually hot, now. I brought cold weather clothing. I was sweating in my jeans and t-shirt. I would have preferred shorts, if not for the violent underbrush. Jeremy tries to call Mark on his cellphone, but cannot get a signal. Surprisingly, mine actually works. As expected, Mark is asleep* and doesn't answer his phone, so I leave him a voicemail message.

*Mark is actually awake. The dogs wouldn't let him sleep. But the phone isn't getting a signal down in the canyon.

The last 480 feet went quickly. Having a little food in my stomach, and having rested my legs a bit, I'm now moving well again. We climb to the arch that is our final destination. Inside, the view is awesome. You can see forever in almost every direction. We search around inside the arch for the Geocache, but can't find it. The GPS Unit says we are in the right spot. Then, Jeremy has a revelation. "I bet that saddistic bastard put it on top."

He climbed up on top of the arch and found the cache. He was enjoying the view from the peak, and playing the echo game again. I was starting to feel the height. Ok, I was starting to wig out. I picked up my pack and started heading down to a place that felt a little more like solid Earth. When Jeremy finally came back down out of the stratosphere, I had him take a picture, so I could provide the world with evidence that I had conquered the New Land.


The Trip Down

The trip back was much easier, of course. Except for the pounding my sprained ankle took. But knowing I'd be off the mountain soon, the shakes, the pain in the ankle, the aching toes from banging on the front of the boot for hours...all seemed inconsequential. I just wanted a hot shower, and a soft bed. I hurt.

On the way up, I found an alternate route on the map, down a wash that would set up just south of the spot where Mark had parked and was still waiting. We could see the truck from the arch, but were too high up to see him or the dogs. My down-the-wash route was no good. Jeremy suggested that the problem with such routes was there was usually a waterfall, and a horrible drop off. Jeremy was right. So we ended up climbing back up to the trail, and followed it most of the way down, with a couple of shortcuts along the way. We discovered that our trail started in a spot other than where we originally came up, further down the 4x4 road.


The Day After

ow.

There's nothing more to say. Just...

ow.

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.

The Test Run

Midnight, The Night Before -

Tomorrow morning, we are hiking to a peak near the Potosi Mine. This will be just an ordinary weekend hike to Mark. It will be a test run for me.

Now, fully geared, I want to get a feel for some of the action of my future adventures. I will be hiking fully loaded. I will set up camp at the end of our trail, to help get a feel for setting up the tent on rocks, with wind, maybe even a bit of rain, if the storm we've had all week continues. I'm even starting the adventure a little early, "camping" in the empty room his daughter used to occupy before she grew up and moved out. The room lacks the luxuries of bedding and light, so I am sleeping in my bag and using my travel pillow. I am writing this in the pocket-sized notepad I bought for blogging my journey while I'm in the wild, by the light of the mini-lantern that will be my only light source when I'm alone in the mountains. I could easily walk into the living room and write there, but using this lantern invites the illusion that I'm already on the trail. The only thing missing is the tight confines of my 3 foot high dome tent.

We are scheduled to be up at 7am and out at 7:15. I wake up slow, so I set my alarm for 6:30.

All my clothes are layed out, and I have the gear set up for a quick packing job before we head to the hills. This almost feels like being part of a real expedition team, needing to be on the trail to hit out next point before the first snow. It might be a bit childish, but it's exciting. At 36 years old, it's nice to find something that lets me feel giddy about something new. It's after 12:30, now, and I don't operate well on less than 8 solid hours. Time to crash.

Lights out.


6:30 am - Day of the trip

The big day has arrived. I'm up! I'm dressed!! I'm packed!!!

I want to go back to bed.

I have been getting up around 10 am all week, and didn't get to sleep till after 12:30, and haven't slept well. I never do with an alarm waiting over my shoulder. All night I keep waking to see if the alarm will go off soon. So after 6 hours of fitful sleep, I don't feel rested. I'm looking forward to being back from the trip and going to bed. We don't hit the road until almost 8. Apparently, I was mistaken about our launch time. I'm starting to wake up a little more, and the thoughts of drifting back to sleep are starting to wane.


8am - On the road

We load up the dogs into the truck, and strap the giant backpack in the back. Off we go. We stop a few blocks from Mark's apartment, at 7-11. Coffee. Donuts. A slab of beef jerky to chew on while I'm on the trail...now I'm happy. The coffee wakes me up. The donuts fill my blood with their glorious sugar and empty calories. This is what life is all about. Feeding my body's internal incinerator garbage to burn. That's why they invented hiking in the first place. So we can eat crap. Life is good. Roll down the windows and enjoy the filthy Las Vegas air! We are on our way!

A few miles in, we stop to meet up with Mark's friend Jeremy. So nobody has to ride with the dogs, we drive in seperate cars up to the mountains, to a point where Jeremy's car cannot take the rough terrain, and he parks. He's going to jump into the back of the truck for our ride up to the spring, but I jump in the back, and suck in the glorious mountain air. I've lived here 13 years, and still have a hard time believing there are pine trees, and fresh air anywhere near Las Vegas. This is heaven.


8:45 - At the spring

We've driven as far as we're going to. We are at Potosi Spring. A little bubbling pool of water, not big enough to dunk your head in, that gets an enormous title on the topographical map. I thought we could go scuba diving in it. You can barely fit your canteen. It is interesting to see the growth around the spring, and the amount of water that runs out of it. There's a long stream running into the valley, and all around the little pool it's lush and green with wild grasses. An oasis in the desert.

We hoist backpacks on, Mark and Jeremy prepare their GPS units. I'm old school. No high tech satellite navigation for me. A map and a compass for me. Luckily, Mark and Jeremy have their GPS units pointing the way.

I don't know how to read the map.

The bag makes the man

Mark goes camping with a long experienced hiker and camper named Diane. Mark admires her knowledge and ability, and loves her jeep. He tells her my plans. She thinks I'm stupid.

I bought the giant backpack. Not the Uber-giant pack, mind you. Just the one to carry all your worldly posessions in. Not the one you can also carry your girlfriend and all her things in. You need the next size up for that.

The night before our first big hike, Mark was on the phone with Diane. He told her about the bag. She asked about this...she asked about that...and in the end, was unable to find fault with my choice. Score one for the home team.

I do not need camping advice from a girl!

Home is where I lay my head at night

After beating myself up over the decision, I finally purchased my portable shelter. I have been agonizing over two specific tents, a 2 person tent that's just big enough for me, and a 4 person tent that's just big enough for me and my ego.

They were only $10 apart in price, but the size and weight difference are considerable. I really didn't think the smaller of the two would be sufficient. With it's 6x5 floor space, I cannot stretch out my full 6'1 frame. 6x5 is a hoax, anyways. The tent isn't square. It's a teardrop shape, so it peaks at one end, and is only a foot and a half wide. The next size up tent is 9x7. Plenty of room all around. And it's a perfect rectangle in design, so no lost space.

Both tents fit into the frame pack I used to measure them. When I am trekking through the desert, not being overwhelmed by the weight is a big factor. But then, a comfortable sleep is important the longer the trip goes. Being tired and hiking 20 miles don't go well together. Also, sharing space with my food supply is a factor. It's good to be able to carry food, when you're hiking in the last few acres of America where there isn't a 7-11 on every corner.

Finally, I decided that I'll end up going the same route with a tent that I will with backpacks. I'll get both! I figured that the smaller one will do fine, for my test runs. For long, extended distance trips, the small one will be perfect. I can sleep in it, I can sit up and write my logs at night, and it's light and gives me lots of space for storing gear. For trips that are more of a getaway nature, where I will be doing more camping and resting than hiking, the bigger tent will be better. It allows me more comfort, and the extra weight is not as much of a factor, since I will be on the move less.