In February and March of this year, I was selected as Juror #2 of a civil trial in the Sacramento County Court.
First Rule of Jury Duty: Don't talk about jury duty!
Second Rule of Jury Duty: Get used to waiting in the hallway.
Third Rule of Jury Duty: Everything takes 2 or 3 times as long as advertised.
The trial that I was on was somewhat interesting as it was a wrongful termination suit which had the "big mean mega-company" wrongfully terminating the "dedicated overworked employee." I was actually surprised that I was selected to be on the jury since I myself work for a mega-company and am an engineer, both things which I would assume would be good for the defense. Nonetheless, after 3 days of jury selection (was supposed to take 1 day), we had a jury of 12 jurors and 2 alternates.
The trial was to take two to three weeks as advertised by the judge. Six weeks later we were finally entering deliberations. Our jury was already quite a bit perturbed by the drawn-out proceedings. As we started at each other across the deliberation room, our first task was to choose/select/bully someone into taking on the role of the jury foreperson. There were people from all walks of life on this jury, but certainly I was one of the youngest. But, in the end, since nobody wanted to be the jury foreman, I decided to volunteer.
It was an interesting experience; as we began discussing the facts of the trial it was clear that there were two or three camps that existed and quite a handful of versions of who was credible. I thought it was fairly cut and dry but as foreperson had to find a way for us to come to a group consensus - we needed a majority on many different qualifying statements before we could give our final verdict. Our deliberations took up nearly 4 days as we tediously went through the mountains of documents and weeks of trial proceedings. In the end, we came to a consensus and awarded a small amount of damages to the plaintiff.
It was an interesting experience and something I would do again. Hopefully not another 6 week trial though; luckily my employer was very supportive. I became familiar with the downtown Sacramento lunch spots with my trusty juror sidekick, Josh. We both liked Cafe Soleil, La Bonne, Munteans, Sampinos, and Cafe Rolle. Delicious food was a great distraction from the mainly bland trial proceedings. I should have been keeping a jury duty food journal because it was much more interesting than anything happening at the courthouse. Next time.
Justice was served.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Mount Whitney - high above the Lower 48.
We were a rag tag group of climbers, three of us came from Folsom - Gary, Brandon, and myself; two from LA - GENE and Jason; and one mustached mountain man from Mountain House State Forest - Rick. Rick does forest management at a California State forest. The group's climbing experience was thin with only Gene and I having relevant experience. What they lacked in experience though the rest of the group compensated with determination and a lot of laughs.
The trip started with an ominous tone as Brandon forgot the most essential piece of gear, his boots. Luckily we were only 10 minutes up the road so we doubled back, then onward to pick up Gary. It only took leaving the neighborhood before Gary asserted that he forgot his boots too. Newbies!
Gary, Brandon, and I rocked out to sweet country tunes heading south down US 395 towards Mount Whitney - the miles ticked off quickly as we passed numerous small towns and the turn-off to Mammoth. We rolled into Bishop, an hour away from the Whitney Portal, with our minds on our last real meal before facing the mountain. After consulting the Yelp! machine, we settled on a little BBQ spot called the Holy Smoke Texas Style Barbecue. When the hostess greeted us with a big Texas drawl, we knew we had hit pay dirt. Out came delicious cuts of beef brisket, half chicken breasts, pulled pork, and ribs along with tasty sides of mac'n'cheese, baked beans, 'slaw, cornbread, and apple cobbler. We ate, then ate some more. There were delicious BBQ sauces along with the meal and we even tempted fate by trying the ghost pepper based sauce. It brought the punch but it was more Oscar de la Hoya than Mike Tyson. No standing 8 counts were given out as we continued through and polished off the meal. Holy Smoke was a good choice for our last meal before facing the mountain.
Onward we continued south and made out way to the Whitney Portal well after dark. The chosen rendezvous spot was in the "overflow parking lot, near the port-o-potties" according to Gene. Classic. Everyone else was there with Rick just getting settled and Gene and Jason already set up with their parking lot sleeping bags next to the car. Gene was rudely awakened by me as we got the run-down of the plan. Gene was our guide as he'd been to Whitney's summit a handful of times before.
That night the plan was to get some terrible sleep in the parking lot and get started in the morning - no rush on day 1 as we just had 8 miles to cover by mid-afternoon. The sleep went as expected (rather horribly) yet everyone was in good spirits as we put our packs together in the early morning light and readied for the hike. A quick stop at the trail head pack scale and we were off. Gene weighed in with the heaviest pack at 36 pounds and mine was just behind at 33 pounds - rather light. Others' packs were between 25 and 33 pounds. Off we went.
My expectations were that this hike was going to be relatively straightforward and easier than both Rainier and Shasta. Besides being slightly less gained elevation than Shasta, we would not need any ice gear and were forecast to have relatively benign weather. Additionally, I'd been hiking all summer long with numerous strenuous day hikes and various other activities - I felt like my body was at it's peak for the year, perhaps ever. Would expectations play out?
We made steady progress throughout the morning, stopping at nearby Lone Pine Lake as a quick aside and at a few spots for snacks. Weather was really good, sunny and in the 50s, as we hiked through the alpine forests loaded mainly with pine. Great vistas of the below valley were abundant as we continued to gain elevation. The trip couldn't have started any better.
As we gained elevation, we made our way above the treeline around 11,000 ft. and into the exposed hills guarding Whitney's summit. Base camp was attained around 2:30 PM and we found a suitable spot for setting up our one-night camp. Boom, tents came out, water got filled; we could smell the summit. Soon, the mountain began to have her presence become known. Winds picked up and the temperature dropped. As the sun dropped below the ridge line around 5 PM, the temperatures plummeted into the 30s and the winds began howling. We started to realize that it was going to be a very cold night. Quickly, our MRE dinners were assembled and scarfed in an attempt to stay warm. Then, one-by-one, as we were all freezing in the evening twilight and howling winds we retreated to the relative warmth of our tents and mummy sleeping bags. The last of us were in our beds by 6 o'clock at the very latest. The night would not be kind.
Brandon and I hunkered down in our two man tent with Gene and Jason in another with Rick and Gary in a third. Our agreed-upon plan was to wake up at 4 AM and start the summit climb. At best, I got 3 hours of sleep that night even though we were in our tent for more than 10 hours as the wind howled and whipped the tent into our faces. Halfway through the fitful night I felt the pillow portion of my sleeping bag and felt nothing but ice. I assumed that condensation was freezing on the bags. I pulled my head into the sleeping bag like a scared turtle. As I watched my watch tick down to 4 AM and waited huddled inside my sleeping bag, I worried about my hiking companions who were even less prepared than me and probably colder. It was maybe 2 AM at this point; two more hours of waiting and shivering before I would poke my head out of the sleeping bag and see that Brandon and I were covered with a light dusting of super dry snow. Anything outside of the sleeping bags was frozen and cold. Luckily I had put my boots and most of my gear inside of my pack so it was sheltered under the tent vestibule and at least dry. Brandon's boots had a half inch of snow inside them. The wind was still whipping, keeping everyone awake, I got up and checked on everyone. Everyone was alive, cold, and not ready to start the hike. We agreed that 2 more hours of huddling and shivering in our respective tents would be enough to time to perhaps wait out the storm and warm up slightly. Back into the tent and turtle position in my sleeping bag I went. At this point I was starting to have pessimistic thoughts that not everyone would be able to make a summit attempt.
Fortuitously the wind abated and air temperatures slowly began to rise with the coming dawn. Our group was able to get a little bit of sleep with our delayed departure and the improving weather. We emerged from our tents after 6 and this time everyone agreed that we would depart soon. The gathering of day packs and consuming of calories commenced as we began preparing for the day. Although it had warmed slightly and the wind calmed, it was still in the 20's and felt colder in the shade of the mountain. We saw headlamps working their way up the 90+ switchbacks and thousands of vertical feet waiting to greet us after our miserable night. We began the switchbacks, going up to meet the sun's rays as they slowly descended the mountain to meet us. The thought of the sunshine on my face and warming my body pushed me onward at a fast pace. Quickly we spread out with myself taking the lead followed by Gary, Rick, Gene, Jason, and Brandon. As we climbed, I observed Brandon and Jason falling behind. I began worrying when 10 minutes had passed and Brandon and Jason did not resume the climb. I did the last thing I wanted to do, turn around and descend, telling the others to continue as we would try to meet them higher on the mountain.
I got down to Brandon and Jason. Brandon was struggling with classic symptoms of altitude sickness, he wasn't able to warm up, had slight headache, couldn't feel his hands or feet. We got him some aspirin, fluids, and calories and waited to see if he would feel better. I sent Jason up the mountain and waited with Brandon. After 10 mins or so and some encouragement from me, we started at a slow pace up the mountain. Moving would help Brandon warm up and the sun above would really help. I took Brandon's pack, carrying both of ours, as we trudged along. I felt really good and slowly Brandon began to regain strength. We reached the sun and Brandon really picked up the pace - it was clear he had fought through the altitude sickness and we were going to be fine. He took his pack back and we continued up to meet the others just before the Trail Crest at 13,600 ft.
At the Trail Crest, we took a break. Here we were only 900 vertical feet from the summit yet still about 2 miles away. Two miles at these altitudes is no picnic but very achievable. From the Trail Crest I put it into high gear. We were on the backside of the mountain and tip-toeing along icy loose rocks. I passed the 3 "windows" with views back to the front side of the mountain and below valley. The backside views were of the Sequoia National Forest; we could see the John Muir trail cutting up the ridge to meet the Mount Whitney Trail. The last couple of miles ticked off and finally I saw the Mount Whitney hut as the trail flattened to the summit. I was there and threw off my pack. Whitney had been more of a challenge than I'd anticipated but at the end we would all make it to the highest point in the continental United States at 14,506 feet, just a hundred feet higher than Mount Rainier.
The rest of the group trickled in and we enjoyed lots of snacks and of course some traditional victory beers. We were behind schedule so we did not linger too long. Down the mountain we went. Between the summit and the trail crest, I had to make a bathroom stop which proved to be most satisfying, my first experience with a wag bag. It was all downhill from there as we made good time down the mountain to our camp and got all the gear re-packed. I hung out with Gene and Jason on the descent as we fell behind Rick, Gary, and Brandon. I snapped a lot of pictures and enjoyed the sun on my face and increasing oxygen as we descended.
Back to the vehicles by 5:30, we headed to Lone Pine for our victory meal. Old fashioned milkshakes (with the metal cup) and hefty burgers were consumed, recovering our calorie deficits. A 6 hour drive awaited Brandon, Gary, and I; we would arrive back in Folsom just before 1 AM.
What a trip. We dealt with considerable adversity yet overcame. It was great to introduce 4 new hikers to some serious climbing. I was challenged more than I thought mainly because of a lack of sleep and colder than expected temperatures. Since the hike, I've bought more cold-weather gear for the next adventure. The down jacket is a piece of gear one should never be without.
Our group was awesome. So many laughs shared and grit shown when things got tough. I wouldn't have it any other way; well, except for maybe those howling winds, unexpected snow, and frozen sleeping bag. Now, which adventure is next ... stay tuned.
Many more pictures on Picasa.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115426733602360079088/MountWhitneySummitSeptember2013?authuser=0&feat=directlink
The trip started with an ominous tone as Brandon forgot the most essential piece of gear, his boots. Luckily we were only 10 minutes up the road so we doubled back, then onward to pick up Gary. It only took leaving the neighborhood before Gary asserted that he forgot his boots too. Newbies!
Gary, Brandon, and I rocked out to sweet country tunes heading south down US 395 towards Mount Whitney - the miles ticked off quickly as we passed numerous small towns and the turn-off to Mammoth. We rolled into Bishop, an hour away from the Whitney Portal, with our minds on our last real meal before facing the mountain. After consulting the Yelp! machine, we settled on a little BBQ spot called the Holy Smoke Texas Style Barbecue. When the hostess greeted us with a big Texas drawl, we knew we had hit pay dirt. Out came delicious cuts of beef brisket, half chicken breasts, pulled pork, and ribs along with tasty sides of mac'n'cheese, baked beans, 'slaw, cornbread, and apple cobbler. We ate, then ate some more. There were delicious BBQ sauces along with the meal and we even tempted fate by trying the ghost pepper based sauce. It brought the punch but it was more Oscar de la Hoya than Mike Tyson. No standing 8 counts were given out as we continued through and polished off the meal. Holy Smoke was a good choice for our last meal before facing the mountain.
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| Pre-game meal at Holy Smoke and the Ghost Pepper sauce! |
That night the plan was to get some terrible sleep in the parking lot and get started in the morning - no rush on day 1 as we just had 8 miles to cover by mid-afternoon. The sleep went as expected (rather horribly) yet everyone was in good spirits as we put our packs together in the early morning light and readied for the hike. A quick stop at the trail head pack scale and we were off. Gene weighed in with the heaviest pack at 36 pounds and mine was just behind at 33 pounds - rather light. Others' packs were between 25 and 33 pounds. Off we went.
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| Getting packed up. |
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| Look at these guys! From left to right - Gary, Rick, Jason, Gene, Me, and Brandon |
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| Great views and sunny skies on the way up |
Brandon and I hunkered down in our two man tent with Gene and Jason in another with Rick and Gary in a third. Our agreed-upon plan was to wake up at 4 AM and start the summit climb. At best, I got 3 hours of sleep that night even though we were in our tent for more than 10 hours as the wind howled and whipped the tent into our faces. Halfway through the fitful night I felt the pillow portion of my sleeping bag and felt nothing but ice. I assumed that condensation was freezing on the bags. I pulled my head into the sleeping bag like a scared turtle. As I watched my watch tick down to 4 AM and waited huddled inside my sleeping bag, I worried about my hiking companions who were even less prepared than me and probably colder. It was maybe 2 AM at this point; two more hours of waiting and shivering before I would poke my head out of the sleeping bag and see that Brandon and I were covered with a light dusting of super dry snow. Anything outside of the sleeping bags was frozen and cold. Luckily I had put my boots and most of my gear inside of my pack so it was sheltered under the tent vestibule and at least dry. Brandon's boots had a half inch of snow inside them. The wind was still whipping, keeping everyone awake, I got up and checked on everyone. Everyone was alive, cold, and not ready to start the hike. We agreed that 2 more hours of huddling and shivering in our respective tents would be enough to time to perhaps wait out the storm and warm up slightly. Back into the tent and turtle position in my sleeping bag I went. At this point I was starting to have pessimistic thoughts that not everyone would be able to make a summit attempt.
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| Whitney bathed in the first rays of morning sun ... and the cold shade that we needed to escape! |
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| The snow that tormented us all night. Frigid. |
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| Gene at the Trail Crest. |
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| That's my boot! Victory! |
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| Traditional victory summit beer! The highest bud light consumed on that day in the Continental US! |
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| A lot of happy faces at the summit |
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| Third 14,000+ ft. summit under my belt. Also, an 'E'. |
What a trip. We dealt with considerable adversity yet overcame. It was great to introduce 4 new hikers to some serious climbing. I was challenged more than I thought mainly because of a lack of sleep and colder than expected temperatures. Since the hike, I've bought more cold-weather gear for the next adventure. The down jacket is a piece of gear one should never be without.
Our group was awesome. So many laughs shared and grit shown when things got tough. I wouldn't have it any other way; well, except for maybe those howling winds, unexpected snow, and frozen sleeping bag. Now, which adventure is next ... stay tuned.
Many more pictures on Picasa.
https://picasaweb.google.com/115426733602360079088/MountWhitneySummitSeptember2013?authuser=0&feat=directlink
Monday, October 7, 2013
Pyramid Peak and the Scatter-brained Hiker
My friend B-dub and I decided to hike Pyramid Peak in Desolation Wilderness one fine Sunday afternoon in August, 2013. Pyramid Peak is the highest peak in Desolation and stands at 9,983 ft. We hit the trailhead from Lyons Creek parking lot just off Wright's Road. It was a 5 mile windy drive off the main highway and out of cell phone range; but with ample free parking.
Just a quick day hike was the agenda and B-dub and I made it happen. The first five miles are a breeze paralleling Lyon Creek, passing the turn-off to Lyons Lake; we made short work of that section of trail. After a short break at Lake Sylvia, we started the most difficult part of the climb, a scramble over massive rocks up a steep slope followed by more loose shale and steep inclines. That continued for a good mile or mile and a half until we reached the shoulder of Pyramid Peak. Amazingly there was still snow in the shadow of Pyramid Peak even though we were in the latter half of the Summer. After a quick re-group with B-dub, we put the final section behind us and enjoyed lunch and vast views at the summit.
We made quick work of the descent, stopping once so I could get our a portable radio about 20 mins from the Summit. Back at Lyon's Lake, we stopped again for a quick snack. A few minutes out of Lyon's, B-dub realized he forgot his sunglasses; I waited while he ran back to Lyon's and grabbed them. Every hike has a little wrinkle ... unfortunately for us there was another much more painful wrinkle waiting to rear its head.
We made it back to my car in the late afternoon; awesome hike. Celebratory high fives were exchanged and the feeling of completion and accomplishment started to sunk in. Until ... I rummaged through my day pack and didn't find the green dry bag that contained my keys and wallet. Rummaging frantically now, I asked B-dub if he is messing with me; did he snag the bag at one of our stops on the way down? He didn't have it; and of course he thought that I was messing with him. A sick feeling came over me as I pulled everything out of my bag and clearly the most important items (the keys!) were missing.
Time to make a new plan. We had our phones but no service, not that there was anyone who we could call who could solve the issue of me not having the keys easily. Tow truck services were probably an hour away even if we could call and my spare key was just as far away; getting service would be a few miles walk down the road. We were out of water and food. We both just hiked 13 miles and covered about 4,000 vertical feet; we were just a bit tired! It was 4:30 PM on Sunday; we would have light until about 8 PM. We both worked on Monday morning; B-Dub started at 7 AM. I thought that certainly left the bag with the keys at Lake Sylvia, 5 miles back up the trail. A decision had to be made.
This situation called for one thing - a Feat of Strength! I decided I would run the 5 miles and 1200 vertical feet up the trail and retrieve the keys. B-dub insisted that he come too although I wanted him to stay. Off we went, leaving our packs hidden under some scrubby bushes near the useless vehicle. Fueled by fear and wanting to atone for my mistake, I made fairly quick work of the trail. As B-dub begain to lag behind I told him to take his time; there was no way he would be able to match my stamina with the motivation I had harnessed.
I passed a couple hikers smartly leaving the wilderness at this time of night. They certainly were confused at why I was running in my hiking boots and heading up the trail as we started to get into the late evening. I asked them if they had seen the bag I sought. Nobody saw anything. Miles 4 and 5 were a real slog as the trail steepened; I slowed my pace. Finally, I arrived up at Lyon's Lake; surely I would find the keys. I looked around hastily trying to remember exactly where B-dub and I had stopped 3 hours prior. Nothing. Nadda. Disaster. I talked to hiking group (older couple and I presume their 30's something daughter) we passed on the way down who were camping at Lake Sylvia. I will call these people The Onlookers. They saw nothing. They offered me water and I sucked directly out of their Camelbak because I was ridiculously thirsty. Party foul on my part but ... I was parched and not really thinking very clearly!
Ok, new plan. B-dub was probably a mile behind me and twilight was upon us. We had to get out of the woods (literally) and into cell service range to get a ride. I turned back around and started on the section of the trail for the 4th time that day; shortly I met B-dub who also couldn't believe that the keys weren't recovered. Mentally, we were fragile. Not quite yet broken but on edge. The helplessness of the situation continued to sink in. We were racing daylight now; we walked quickly and regained our mental composure. Soon we ran; we made good time going downhill.
Back to the car, we quickly retrieved our bags as we heard a car slowly approaching from up the road. B-dub flagged them down and explained our precarious situation. The couple in the white truck with camper were really nice and offered to give us a ride down to the main road so we would be able to make a phone call and get help. We pulled ourselves into the cramped extended cab, happy to be off our feet. I would have been happy on the dirt floor of a prison in Mexico; I was that exhausted. Terry, the driver, must have seen the hopelessness on our faces; we told him that we live in Folsom. Since they were heading right past Folsom on their way to Sacramento, he offered to drop us off. Wow, awesome guy. Gladly we accepted their offer and slugged out the long ride home crammed behind Terry, his wife, and young daughter or granddaughter. Terry was a chatter box and all I wanted to do was drink water and go comatose in the back. Luckily B-dub humored Terry with some light conversation as I tried to ignore my stomach which was tied in knots and my painful physical exhaustion. Finally, we reached Folsom and the valet service right to my door. I really hope good karma has found Terry and his family because he saved our day.
The next day, Monday, I made a bunch of calls to the ranger district and Tahoe Police to see if any identification or keys had been turned in. No luck; it was a longshot anyway. I kept having this lingering thought that maybe I forgot to put the bag with keys and wallet back into my pack at the first stop down from the Summit, higher than Sylvia Lake. Maybe it would be worth checking since there really isn't a trail up there as it was more of a scramble and there certainly wouldn't be many hikers on a Monday. I still had to retrieve my car anyway (I had the spare key now), but my body was exhausted. I prepared for the Pyramid Peak Feat of Strength Part II!
I was set on making another retrieval run. After work, B-dub dropped me off at my car at 5 PM. Equipped with running shoes, a hydration pack and sheer determination, I once again started the run up the hill, again fighting daylight. I made quick work of the trail and reached Lake Sylvia in just over an hour. I talked to The Onlookers. They searched around the lake but didn't find any trace of my missing bag. Onward I continued. Up the complicated scramble I went higher up towards Pyramid Peak. I looked back and noticed The Onlookers watching me eagerly. I disappeared over the shoulder of the ridge and continued upward, hiking briskly and sucking air as running was not possible on this incline and altitude. Then, a sight for sore eyes -- there is was sitting unassumingly near a scrub pine perfectly propped up. It was my green dry bag with keys, wallet, first aid, etc which I'd left 30 hours earlier when unnecessarily retrieving a radio out of my pack. It was a very happy reunion, we embraced and I think one of us cried. :)
Riding an emotional high, I zoomed down the hill in record speed to Sylvia where The Onlookers were amazed that I had retrieved the bag (and that I was still physically able to stand after the last 36 hours of activity). They snapped a photo and actually sent it to me on FB later (shown above). I zoomed down from Lake Sylvia to my beloved Acura TL and she fired right up. 35 miles and 7000 vertical feet after I started, the hike was finally over. Pyramid Peak was conquered, almost twice!
More pictures on my Google Photos account (Picasa). Be careful who you trust the car keys to!
I'm happy the way things turned out the way they did. I was tested physically and mentally perhaps more than I'd ever been before. What would you have done once you'd realized back at the car that your keys were somewhere on the trail?
Just a quick day hike was the agenda and B-dub and I made it happen. The first five miles are a breeze paralleling Lyon Creek, passing the turn-off to Lyons Lake; we made short work of that section of trail. After a short break at Lake Sylvia, we started the most difficult part of the climb, a scramble over massive rocks up a steep slope followed by more loose shale and steep inclines. That continued for a good mile or mile and a half until we reached the shoulder of Pyramid Peak. Amazingly there was still snow in the shadow of Pyramid Peak even though we were in the latter half of the Summer. After a quick re-group with B-dub, we put the final section behind us and enjoyed lunch and vast views at the summit.
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| Pyramid Peak from the final approaches - Snow in August still! |
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| "This hike is a piece of cake, what could possibly go wrong?" Aloha Lakes in the background. |
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| "I am all that is Man!" |
Time to make a new plan. We had our phones but no service, not that there was anyone who we could call who could solve the issue of me not having the keys easily. Tow truck services were probably an hour away even if we could call and my spare key was just as far away; getting service would be a few miles walk down the road. We were out of water and food. We both just hiked 13 miles and covered about 4,000 vertical feet; we were just a bit tired! It was 4:30 PM on Sunday; we would have light until about 8 PM. We both worked on Monday morning; B-Dub started at 7 AM. I thought that certainly left the bag with the keys at Lake Sylvia, 5 miles back up the trail. A decision had to be made.
This situation called for one thing - a Feat of Strength! I decided I would run the 5 miles and 1200 vertical feet up the trail and retrieve the keys. B-dub insisted that he come too although I wanted him to stay. Off we went, leaving our packs hidden under some scrubby bushes near the useless vehicle. Fueled by fear and wanting to atone for my mistake, I made fairly quick work of the trail. As B-dub begain to lag behind I told him to take his time; there was no way he would be able to match my stamina with the motivation I had harnessed.
I passed a couple hikers smartly leaving the wilderness at this time of night. They certainly were confused at why I was running in my hiking boots and heading up the trail as we started to get into the late evening. I asked them if they had seen the bag I sought. Nobody saw anything. Miles 4 and 5 were a real slog as the trail steepened; I slowed my pace. Finally, I arrived up at Lyon's Lake; surely I would find the keys. I looked around hastily trying to remember exactly where B-dub and I had stopped 3 hours prior. Nothing. Nadda. Disaster. I talked to hiking group (older couple and I presume their 30's something daughter) we passed on the way down who were camping at Lake Sylvia. I will call these people The Onlookers. They saw nothing. They offered me water and I sucked directly out of their Camelbak because I was ridiculously thirsty. Party foul on my part but ... I was parched and not really thinking very clearly!
Ok, new plan. B-dub was probably a mile behind me and twilight was upon us. We had to get out of the woods (literally) and into cell service range to get a ride. I turned back around and started on the section of the trail for the 4th time that day; shortly I met B-dub who also couldn't believe that the keys weren't recovered. Mentally, we were fragile. Not quite yet broken but on edge. The helplessness of the situation continued to sink in. We were racing daylight now; we walked quickly and regained our mental composure. Soon we ran; we made good time going downhill.
Back to the car, we quickly retrieved our bags as we heard a car slowly approaching from up the road. B-dub flagged them down and explained our precarious situation. The couple in the white truck with camper were really nice and offered to give us a ride down to the main road so we would be able to make a phone call and get help. We pulled ourselves into the cramped extended cab, happy to be off our feet. I would have been happy on the dirt floor of a prison in Mexico; I was that exhausted. Terry, the driver, must have seen the hopelessness on our faces; we told him that we live in Folsom. Since they were heading right past Folsom on their way to Sacramento, he offered to drop us off. Wow, awesome guy. Gladly we accepted their offer and slugged out the long ride home crammed behind Terry, his wife, and young daughter or granddaughter. Terry was a chatter box and all I wanted to do was drink water and go comatose in the back. Luckily B-dub humored Terry with some light conversation as I tried to ignore my stomach which was tied in knots and my painful physical exhaustion. Finally, we reached Folsom and the valet service right to my door. I really hope good karma has found Terry and his family because he saved our day.
The next day, Monday, I made a bunch of calls to the ranger district and Tahoe Police to see if any identification or keys had been turned in. No luck; it was a longshot anyway. I kept having this lingering thought that maybe I forgot to put the bag with keys and wallet back into my pack at the first stop down from the Summit, higher than Sylvia Lake. Maybe it would be worth checking since there really isn't a trail up there as it was more of a scramble and there certainly wouldn't be many hikers on a Monday. I still had to retrieve my car anyway (I had the spare key now), but my body was exhausted. I prepared for the Pyramid Peak Feat of Strength Part II!
I was set on making another retrieval run. After work, B-dub dropped me off at my car at 5 PM. Equipped with running shoes, a hydration pack and sheer determination, I once again started the run up the hill, again fighting daylight. I made quick work of the trail and reached Lake Sylvia in just over an hour. I talked to The Onlookers. They searched around the lake but didn't find any trace of my missing bag. Onward I continued. Up the complicated scramble I went higher up towards Pyramid Peak. I looked back and noticed The Onlookers watching me eagerly. I disappeared over the shoulder of the ridge and continued upward, hiking briskly and sucking air as running was not possible on this incline and altitude. Then, a sight for sore eyes -- there is was sitting unassumingly near a scrub pine perfectly propped up. It was my green dry bag with keys, wallet, first aid, etc which I'd left 30 hours earlier when unnecessarily retrieving a radio out of my pack. It was a very happy reunion, we embraced and I think one of us cried. :)
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| With 2 of the 3 onlookers and their dog at Lake Sylvia; celebrating the unexpected recovery. |
Riding an emotional high, I zoomed down the hill in record speed to Sylvia where The Onlookers were amazed that I had retrieved the bag (and that I was still physically able to stand after the last 36 hours of activity). They snapped a photo and actually sent it to me on FB later (shown above). I zoomed down from Lake Sylvia to my beloved Acura TL and she fired right up. 35 miles and 7000 vertical feet after I started, the hike was finally over. Pyramid Peak was conquered, almost twice!
More pictures on my Google Photos account (Picasa). Be careful who you trust the car keys to!
I'm happy the way things turned out the way they did. I was tested physically and mentally perhaps more than I'd ever been before. What would you have done once you'd realized back at the car that your keys were somewhere on the trail?
Monday, September 2, 2013
Moab and Arches - some of Utah's Finest - Fall 2012
From previous escapades, I was well aware that Southern Utah was one of my favorite places on the West Coast for adventure. Then came Moab! What a great spot to be outdoors.
Some of the usual suspects gathered Gene, Mark, and I. I flew into SLC to meet Mark; we drove to Moab from there. Gene made the long solo drive from LA, managed to blow out a tire and won back some casino money lost on our prior Zion trip at the desert lovely oasis called Mesquite.
We planned for a late Fall trip, in mid-October and that was a really good time to be in Moab. Sure, the days were shorter than August but the weather was warm enough during the daytime and cooled off at night. The crowds were minimal too; I hear that in the peak Summer season, Moab is a zoo. I was grateful for the affordable lodging, meaning we didn't have to camp.
Evening 1: We played some disc golf at Old City Park just South of Moab. I'd rate it a 4 out of 5. I nearly threw my first hole in one on my first throw on hole 1 - so close! It was Gene's first disc golf outing and he made considerable improvement throughout. It was a fun course, challenging but still plenty of birdie opportunities.
Day 1: The first day was all about exploring on two wheels. I rented a bike from Poison Spider Cycles (sweet name, good service!); Gene and Mark already had their mountain bikes in tow. We headed out to the Moab Slickrock area. I highly recommend this for some mildly technical to extremely technical mountain biking. The risks are high as the trails are solid rock and there are ups, downs, curves, and bumps.
Gene, Mark, and I did the practice loop to get acclimated then headed out to the main loop. A mile or two into the main loop, we came across an older gentleman who took a hard spill down a steep, technical descent. Mark, who is a doctor, helped out but really there wasn't much that could be done except make sure to stabilize his back and neck neck, check for broken bones, and distribute pain meds (Mark's specialty). With that fresh reminder of the perils of mountain biking, we continued along; another mile or so into the trail, after some leg crushing climbs, we came to some stunning views overlooking the Colorado River and the town of Moab. Some nice descents followed by more minor ascents kept us moving along. I was sucking wind trying to keep up with Gene while Mark was sucking wind trying to keep up with me - peer pressure in tact!
We pumped out the ride, taking in the ridiculously expansive views. Back to the car, we loaded up the bikes as we were planning another ride up a nearby fire road. We made it to the fire road where we saw a bunch of mountain bikers, sponsors, organizers, and spectators setting up for some kind of race. We were in for a treat, the race was starting soon but we still had time to ride up part of the trail that the mountain bikers would be later going down. Off we went. Everyone was gassed from our Slickrock adventures already but we made it up a few miles. Some race spotters along the way let us know that the race was starting soon so we headed down. The racers caught us midway back as they literally screamed by. They made us look like we weren't even moving. I was going as fast as I possibly could (I don't know, 12 MPH) over all the bumps, crags, huge rocks, loose rock, etc; I thought I was moving semi-fast. Then these pro guys fly by, jumping all the big rocks, full pedal, probably 25 mph. Mind you we are on the side of a mountain and heading off the edge would lead certainly to a broken collar bone, neck, or back. Apparently it takes some huge cahones to be a pro mountain biker. We saw one guy take a huge jump, clear about 15 ft. of boulders and come off his bike in mid-air but somehow he gracefully recovered without falling and popped back on the bike without missing a beat. Ridiculous; I would have certainly left my blood and skin on the trail.
After a long day of riding and adventure, we ate some good food at Eddie McStiff's in Moab drank our fair share of beer.
Day 2: The plan for day two was to go to Pleiades and do some technical canyoneering there. We had out wetsuits and headed out early. As we drove to the site, we found that it was much higher in elevation that we'd bargained for and actually there was some light snow on the ground and it was frigid. Pleiades is a canyoneering adventure best done in the dead of Summer it seems. We made the call that we probably didn't want to be wet in that weather so we aborted that plan and made an alternate plan to go to Arches National Park. We had a short day so we were unable to explore Arches thoroughly but we did make time to partake in some really awesome canyoneering. I don't know the name of the canyon (Teardrop perhaps), but it was very near the entrance to the park, less than a mile or two away from the Moab-side visitor center. There was a short hike from Park Avenue trailhead back towards the visitor center and then a hefty scramble up to the top of some formations. From there were great views, and a couple huge bowls to explore. We found our way to the canyoneering drop-in point and found that the rappelling gradually increased in length and difficulty. First was a 12 ft. rappel, then a 18 footer, then a 30 footer, then a semi-concerning blind-landing 50 footer. The rappels were followed by a short hike out and we were on our way again.
Arches is certainly a place I'd like to spend a couple of days at and Moab is an area I think I could spend an entire week or Summer exploring. I will be back!
I still have Bryce Canyon to explore so hopefully I will be back in Southern Utah in the next couple years ... and will have time to do Zion again as well as Moab and Arches. So much to do, so little time!
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| Typical Moab View - soak it in. |
We planned for a late Fall trip, in mid-October and that was a really good time to be in Moab. Sure, the days were shorter than August but the weather was warm enough during the daytime and cooled off at night. The crowds were minimal too; I hear that in the peak Summer season, Moab is a zoo. I was grateful for the affordable lodging, meaning we didn't have to camp.
Evening 1: We played some disc golf at Old City Park just South of Moab. I'd rate it a 4 out of 5. I nearly threw my first hole in one on my first throw on hole 1 - so close! It was Gene's first disc golf outing and he made considerable improvement throughout. It was a fun course, challenging but still plenty of birdie opportunities.
Day 1: The first day was all about exploring on two wheels. I rented a bike from Poison Spider Cycles (sweet name, good service!); Gene and Mark already had their mountain bikes in tow. We headed out to the Moab Slickrock area. I highly recommend this for some mildly technical to extremely technical mountain biking. The risks are high as the trails are solid rock and there are ups, downs, curves, and bumps.
We pumped out the ride, taking in the ridiculously expansive views. Back to the car, we loaded up the bikes as we were planning another ride up a nearby fire road. We made it to the fire road where we saw a bunch of mountain bikers, sponsors, organizers, and spectators setting up for some kind of race. We were in for a treat, the race was starting soon but we still had time to ride up part of the trail that the mountain bikers would be later going down. Off we went. Everyone was gassed from our Slickrock adventures already but we made it up a few miles. Some race spotters along the way let us know that the race was starting soon so we headed down. The racers caught us midway back as they literally screamed by. They made us look like we weren't even moving. I was going as fast as I possibly could (I don't know, 12 MPH) over all the bumps, crags, huge rocks, loose rock, etc; I thought I was moving semi-fast. Then these pro guys fly by, jumping all the big rocks, full pedal, probably 25 mph. Mind you we are on the side of a mountain and heading off the edge would lead certainly to a broken collar bone, neck, or back. Apparently it takes some huge cahones to be a pro mountain biker. We saw one guy take a huge jump, clear about 15 ft. of boulders and come off his bike in mid-air but somehow he gracefully recovered without falling and popped back on the bike without missing a beat. Ridiculous; I would have certainly left my blood and skin on the trail.
After a long day of riding and adventure, we ate some good food at Eddie McStiff's in Moab drank our fair share of beer.
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| Aren't these rock formations amazing? They are hundreds of feet tall. |
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| View from the top of our Arches canyoneering adventure |
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| Brent spread-eagled on the last (longest) rappel. |
I still have Bryce Canyon to explore so hopefully I will be back in Southern Utah in the next couple years ... and will have time to do Zion again as well as Moab and Arches. So much to do, so little time!
Monday, July 22, 2013
Circumventing Mt. Rainier on the Wonderland Trail
Well, it's been much too long since I've posted to this blog ... WAY TOO LONG! Life is busy and only getting busier but I am going to try to find more time to post at least occasionally! Without further ado ...
One of the coolest life adventures to date was to go around Mt. Rainier in September, 2011. I'd already achieved the summit many years ago so now I guess it was time for me to go around Rainier right?!? My hiking amigo, Gene, and I actually planned this trip reasonably well; we had food cached, reasonable hiking distances, and all the necessary gear to cover the 6 day, 92 mile clockwise walk around the raddest mountain in the Pacific Northwest, if not the World.
Day 1 (14.7 miles): The Elder Bero (Dad) escorted Gene and I to the White River Ranger's Station to get our permits then to hit the trail. Surprisingly at whatever ungodly time it was that morning there was another hiker, a single young lady, in line getting her permit too and taking her sweet time! Gene and I were chomping at the bit to get the day started but were waiting for Ms. Chatty to move along. :) Finally, we got our permits, and after a few ceremonial pictures we took our first steps on the trail just a few miles south of the White River Campground on the North-East section of the Wonderland Trail.
Dad joined Gene and I on the first segment of the trail which unexpectedly turned out to be some of the best trail of the entire trip. This area is called Summerland and it is G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S. A slight incline took us up the Fryingpan Creek bed to amazing views of Mt. Rainier. We made quick work of the trail gaining the Summerland rock house then Panhandle Gap by lunch; along the way Dad used his super-human vision to point out bear and other big game to us. If he were on the whole trip with us I bet we would have seen a lot more game!
At Panhandle Gap, we at lunch together then said farewell to Dad. He headed back to car while we we just beginning our long journey. More expansive views and perfect weather accompanied us along the way to Indian Bar. The Summerland / Indian Bar portion of the hike is the portion that I most want to hike again - hopefully sometime soon.
We saw some mountain goat on the way down from Panhandle Gap to Indian Bar. After Panhandle Gap, there were very few hikers and it felt like we were off all on our own. The afternoon went by slowly as we really dug into the hike and made our way through some up-and-down terrain to the Nickle Creek campground.
I'm pretty sure we were the only group at Nickle Creek that night - after a good day's hike it really made little difference but it did drive home the point that we were out in the wilderness and were somewhat alone.
Day 2 (18 miles): From Nickle Creek, we continued the Wonderland past Box Canyon (Port-O-Potties!) along some overgrown trail through Steven's Canyon towards Louise Lake. On our way, we say a Black Bear and cub at just 50 or 75 yards away scampering away - I think Gene soiled himself. :) Then, shortly after that, we ran into an interesting solo hiker. He was an older guy, probably in his 50's and he'd been out hiking in Rainier National Park for 17 or so days, mainly in terrible stormy weather all by himself. I love the outdoors but I don't think I'd ever want that experience, especially by myself. He was enjoying the last couple days of sunshine though. As a side-note, the weather during our hike was ideal, no significant rain for 6 straight days, yet it rained hard the night before our trip and the night after our trip. Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good!
We continued and came across the Reflection Lakes - which are really, really awesome and I recommend everyone to visit here - a road passes nearby. Then, on the way from the Reflection Lakes to Longmire Gene and I ran into another unforgettable character. As we descended some thick trail, we heard some rustling about 10 yards off the trail. We came upon a solo woman who who had on some kind of butcher's apron and possibly I imagined a machete in her hands because she was scary! She said she'd been out in the wilderness for nearly 30 days but had only traveled a total of 50 miles; she had been spending the majority of her time meditating in nature and was almost ready to rejoin society. Whew, that was weird; we pushed on with all of our appendages.
Soon we were in familiar territory near Narada Falls and Longmire. At Longmire (running water! bathrooms!) we took lunch, a break, and retrieved our first food cache. The end of day two was a tough climb up to Pyramid Camp. One boot in front of the other ...
At Pyramid Camp, Gene made his famous spam and pasta which was ridiculously delicious since we'd only been eating dried fruit and trail mix for 2 days.
That evening there was another group in Pyramid Creek who we chatted with. It was a couple about our age and the guy worked at Bungee and was working on all the designs of the vehicles for some new video game. They seemed pretty cool and their hiking plan had them at the same camp in a couple days so we looked forward to chatting with them again. They must've had trouble keeping the pace because we never did see them again ... hopefully the butcher lady didn't catch up with them!
Day 3 (15.7 miles): In the hiking groove now, Gene and I were up early and hitting the trail at first light. Today though would be in my opinion the most difficult day of hiking considering the elevation and that we were in the very middle of the hike - the newness had wore off slightly and we still had a long, long way to go. Physically we were tired and mentally we needed to stay focused. Also, this part of the trail was extremely deserted and we saw only 1 or 2 other hikers all day.
From Pyramid Creek we made our way to Indian Henrys Hunting Grounds which was an awesome alpine meadow and came across an empty Patrol Cabin up there. There were some great views at the alpine meadow, lots of wildflowers, green fields, and views of Rainier through the clouds. Also, we were about halfway around the Wonderland at this point and we ran into the young lady who was in front of us in line at the check in ranger's station on day 1. She was going around counter-clockwise and was making remarkable time. Impressed.
There was some rugged terrain on this side and we passed very close to our first glacier of the trip, the Tahoma. Emerald Ridge provided grand views despite Rainier veiled in the clouds.
We arrived at our destination for the day, the North Puyallup Camp, in good time and yet again we were completely alone. I had not spent much time on the west side of Rainier but quickly learned that it is the lonely side of the mountain. Also, there are thicker, more dense forests which makes the trail more secluded. Gene and I went through our nightly ritual of eating & preparing dinner, freshening up with a moist body wipe (essential piece of geaer!), preparing the next day's water, and squaring off in some spirited Magic the Gathering battles! :) Haha - Thanks Gene for teaching me Magic, now I have achieved "Super Nerd" status!
Day 4 (15.2 miles): Five minutes out of camp, one of the coolest things on the trip happened. We were out really early in the dark forest at a time when the night had not yet completely given over the sky to the morning. In the early light a big adult owl came swooping down the trail directly at us and just past our heads. The owl's orange eyes glowed as it silently swooped through the air. It was spectacular and a fitting way to start the day which was basically a long walk through a mysterious, scary forest. The trees were dense and huge with frisbee-sized, occasionally neon-colored fungi coming off tree trunks from a few feet off the ground to a hundred of feet up the trees. Through the forest we went towards another high alpine meadow area called the Golden Lakes, named as such for their golden colored reflection at sunrise and sunset. From here, we experienced a long descent to the South Mowich River. Gene and I entertained ourselves by trying to name every single student in our senior class at Bellarmine Prep - Out of the 220 or so classmates I think we named well over half, not bad! It was a good way to pass the time as we exited the scary mushroom forest.
Crossing the South Mowich River in the mid afternoon, Gene and I saw people again after what seemed like a couple days. We had a snack and then ended the day with a grueling 3.4 mile, very steep trudge up to Mowich Lake. A tuna-powered Gene doinated this section and I was doing my best to keep him in sight. The tuna-boost was insurmountable though as he left me in the dust here. I was NOT tuna-powered so maybe that explains my performance.
At Mowich we retrieved our last food cache from the bear box at the Patrol Cabin and set up camp. Successful, long day - only two days left!
Day 5 (13.2 miles): Day 5 was one of our shortest distance days but also had two of the most grueling ascents, one up to Spray Park and the second up to Mystic Camp. At Mowich, there is a choice presented to the Wonderland hiker to continue to descent towards the Ipsut Creek Campground or to ascend Spray Park. Gene and I chose the later, shorter route to stay closer to Mt. Rainier; we were rewarded with some pristine hiking and great panoramic views.
Shortly out of Mowich we went slightly off the trail to check out Spray Falls. I nearly had to rescue Gene who tried to cross the raging stream below the falls to get to the other side for a better photo op. It was a good excursion from the trail. Then, we made the climb up to Spray Park. It was a really nice area with some great views and another perfect high alpine meadow. Some bugs up there but those are expected! After Spray Park was a steep descent to the Carbon River crossing; on the way we ran into the first rangers we'd seen on the trail and they checked our permits. It's amazing how popular Mt. Rainier is yet how few people we saw during the trip; the only "busy" spots were Longmire and Sunrise.
The Carbon River crossing is over a really long suspension bridge, followed by the steepest portion of the Wonderland trail up past Dick Creek. We had this section during the early afternoon and baked in the sun as we made our way up the trail alongside the Carbon Glacier. Sweat poured out of me and I was happy to make it to the high alpine meadow with some shade as we approached Mystic Lake and Mystic Camp, our destination for the night. There were a handful of other campers in Mystic. Our last day was on tap so we got a good night's rest after our ritual of making dinner, preparing water, freshening up, and Magic The Gathering for entertainment.
Day 6 (14.7 miles): Last day! Gene and I made great time, our packs were light with less food as we made our way past the Winthrop Glacier to Skyscraper Pass (awesome) and the Burroughs Mountains. There were lots of people, mainly day-hikers, as we came within a few miles of Sunrise; it was a nice change from the uninhabited trail we were accustomed to. Again, we had great weather and kept a steady pace. We had originally planned to stop at Sunrise for some prepared food at the Visitor's Center kitchen, but we had plenty of supplies and were making great time, so we just used the Visitor Center bathrooms and contacted Dad for our return ride.
We continued on to the steep descent from Sunrise to the White River Campground which Gene and I had done 10+ years earlier during a grueling 23 mile jaunt that included the Mt. Fremont Lookout and the Owyhigh Lakes. Once we made it to the White River Campground it was a quick 1.5 mile flat stroll to our starting point and had completed the trail by mid-afternoon, earlier than expected. It was awesome to see that starting sign again. We waited for Dad to show up, munching on our leftover snacks, re-aquainting ourselves to not wearing a 40 pound pack, and reveling in the accomplishment. What a great feeling!
More Wonderland Trail Pictures (Brent's Picasa)
Brent's Best of Wonderland:
Best Trail Food: Spicy Dried Mangos, Gene's Famous Spam Pasta
Best Camp: Mystic Camp
Best Section of Trail: Summerland / Indian Bar
Next Best Sections of Trail: Golden Lakes, Spray Park
Best way to pass the time: Continue walking!
Best Views: Summerland, Reflection Lakes
Best piece of gear: Indestructible Spork/Knife Combo, odor-absorbing boxer briefs
Best encounters on the trip: The Medidating Butcher Lady, Counterclockwise Solo Hiker Girl, Black Bear and Cub, Bungee Couple
Most Unexpected: The Scary Mushroom Forest, perfect weather
Interesting Fact: Only a couple hundred people complete the Wonderland Trail every year while around 10,000 attempt to summit Mt. Rainier.
One of the coolest life adventures to date was to go around Mt. Rainier in September, 2011. I'd already achieved the summit many years ago so now I guess it was time for me to go around Rainier right?!? My hiking amigo, Gene, and I actually planned this trip reasonably well; we had food cached, reasonable hiking distances, and all the necessary gear to cover the 6 day, 92 mile clockwise walk around the raddest mountain in the Pacific Northwest, if not the World.
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| About to take the first Wonderland Trail steps |
Day 1 (14.7 miles): The Elder Bero (Dad) escorted Gene and I to the White River Ranger's Station to get our permits then to hit the trail. Surprisingly at whatever ungodly time it was that morning there was another hiker, a single young lady, in line getting her permit too and taking her sweet time! Gene and I were chomping at the bit to get the day started but were waiting for Ms. Chatty to move along. :) Finally, we got our permits, and after a few ceremonial pictures we took our first steps on the trail just a few miles south of the White River Campground on the North-East section of the Wonderland Trail.
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| Dad and Brent at Panhandle Gap |
At Panhandle Gap, we at lunch together then said farewell to Dad. He headed back to car while we we just beginning our long journey. More expansive views and perfect weather accompanied us along the way to Indian Bar. The Summerland / Indian Bar portion of the hike is the portion that I most want to hike again - hopefully sometime soon.
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| Amazing views on the way to Indian Bar. |
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| Looking back at Rainier from above Indian Bar; this is a Lord of the Rings like view right!?! Insane. |
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| Indian Bar Shelter |
Day 2 (18 miles): From Nickle Creek, we continued the Wonderland past Box Canyon (Port-O-Potties!) along some overgrown trail through Steven's Canyon towards Louise Lake. On our way, we say a Black Bear and cub at just 50 or 75 yards away scampering away - I think Gene soiled himself. :) Then, shortly after that, we ran into an interesting solo hiker. He was an older guy, probably in his 50's and he'd been out hiking in Rainier National Park for 17 or so days, mainly in terrible stormy weather all by himself. I love the outdoors but I don't think I'd ever want that experience, especially by myself. He was enjoying the last couple days of sunshine though. As a side-note, the weather during our hike was ideal, no significant rain for 6 straight days, yet it rained hard the night before our trip and the night after our trip. Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good!
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| Green Day! Crazy Solo Hiker dude took this picture |
We continued and came across the Reflection Lakes - which are really, really awesome and I recommend everyone to visit here - a road passes nearby. Then, on the way from the Reflection Lakes to Longmire Gene and I ran into another unforgettable character. As we descended some thick trail, we heard some rustling about 10 yards off the trail. We came upon a solo woman who who had on some kind of butcher's apron and possibly I imagined a machete in her hands because she was scary! She said she'd been out in the wilderness for nearly 30 days but had only traveled a total of 50 miles; she had been spending the majority of her time meditating in nature and was almost ready to rejoin society. Whew, that was weird; we pushed on with all of our appendages.
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| Reflection Lakes - Wow! |
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| Nisqually River Crossing |
That evening there was another group in Pyramid Creek who we chatted with. It was a couple about our age and the guy worked at Bungee and was working on all the designs of the vehicles for some new video game. They seemed pretty cool and their hiking plan had them at the same camp in a couple days so we looked forward to chatting with them again. They must've had trouble keeping the pace because we never did see them again ... hopefully the butcher lady didn't catch up with them!
Day 3 (15.7 miles): In the hiking groove now, Gene and I were up early and hitting the trail at first light. Today though would be in my opinion the most difficult day of hiking considering the elevation and that we were in the very middle of the hike - the newness had wore off slightly and we still had a long, long way to go. Physically we were tired and mentally we needed to stay focused. Also, this part of the trail was extremely deserted and we saw only 1 or 2 other hikers all day.
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| Indian Henry Patrol Cabin |
There was some rugged terrain on this side and we passed very close to our first glacier of the trip, the Tahoma. Emerald Ridge provided grand views despite Rainier veiled in the clouds.
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| The glacial debris of the retreating Tahoma Glacier |
We arrived at our destination for the day, the North Puyallup Camp, in good time and yet again we were completely alone. I had not spent much time on the west side of Rainier but quickly learned that it is the lonely side of the mountain. Also, there are thicker, more dense forests which makes the trail more secluded. Gene and I went through our nightly ritual of eating & preparing dinner, freshening up with a moist body wipe (essential piece of geaer!), preparing the next day's water, and squaring off in some spirited Magic the Gathering battles! :) Haha - Thanks Gene for teaching me Magic, now I have achieved "Super Nerd" status!
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| Brent at the North Puyallup, in good spirits and memorable scenery at the end of day 3! |
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| Clearly this is the scary mushroom forest! |
Crossing the South Mowich River in the mid afternoon, Gene and I saw people again after what seemed like a couple days. We had a snack and then ended the day with a grueling 3.4 mile, very steep trudge up to Mowich Lake. A tuna-powered Gene doinated this section and I was doing my best to keep him in sight. The tuna-boost was insurmountable though as he left me in the dust here. I was NOT tuna-powered so maybe that explains my performance.
At Mowich we retrieved our last food cache from the bear box at the Patrol Cabin and set up camp. Successful, long day - only two days left!
Day 5 (13.2 miles): Day 5 was one of our shortest distance days but also had two of the most grueling ascents, one up to Spray Park and the second up to Mystic Camp. At Mowich, there is a choice presented to the Wonderland hiker to continue to descent towards the Ipsut Creek Campground or to ascend Spray Park. Gene and I chose the later, shorter route to stay closer to Mt. Rainier; we were rewarded with some pristine hiking and great panoramic views.
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| Spray Falls |
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| Rainier from Spray Park |
The Carbon River crossing is over a really long suspension bridge, followed by the steepest portion of the Wonderland trail up past Dick Creek. We had this section during the early afternoon and baked in the sun as we made our way up the trail alongside the Carbon Glacier. Sweat poured out of me and I was happy to make it to the high alpine meadow with some shade as we approached Mystic Lake and Mystic Camp, our destination for the night. There were a handful of other campers in Mystic. Our last day was on tap so we got a good night's rest after our ritual of making dinner, preparing water, freshening up, and Magic The Gathering for entertainment.
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| The Carbon Glacier |
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| I did a good job making Gene look like a giant in this picture from Skyscraper Pass! |
We continued on to the steep descent from Sunrise to the White River Campground which Gene and I had done 10+ years earlier during a grueling 23 mile jaunt that included the Mt. Fremont Lookout and the Owyhigh Lakes. Once we made it to the White River Campground it was a quick 1.5 mile flat stroll to our starting point and had completed the trail by mid-afternoon, earlier than expected. It was awesome to see that starting sign again. We waited for Dad to show up, munching on our leftover snacks, re-aquainting ourselves to not wearing a 40 pound pack, and reveling in the accomplishment. What a great feeling!
More Wonderland Trail Pictures (Brent's Picasa)
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| We're there man! Sporting our Victory Red! |
Best Trail Food: Spicy Dried Mangos, Gene's Famous Spam Pasta
Best Camp: Mystic Camp
Best Section of Trail: Summerland / Indian Bar
Next Best Sections of Trail: Golden Lakes, Spray Park
Best way to pass the time: Continue walking!
Best Views: Summerland, Reflection Lakes
Best piece of gear: Indestructible Spork/Knife Combo, odor-absorbing boxer briefs
Best encounters on the trip: The Medidating Butcher Lady, Counterclockwise Solo Hiker Girl, Black Bear and Cub, Bungee Couple
Most Unexpected: The Scary Mushroom Forest, perfect weather
Interesting Fact: Only a couple hundred people complete the Wonderland Trail every year while around 10,000 attempt to summit Mt. Rainier.
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| The Wonderland |
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| Wonderland Trail Profile Map with a cumulative 22,000 ft. of elevation gain, and of course the accompanying 22,000 ft. of elevation loss! |
Sunday, January 2, 2011
26.2
Update December 2010
Back in May, 2010 I started training for the December 2010 California International Marathon. It was an experience I'll never forget, although maybe never repeat. I was religious in my training and worked my way up to some very long solidary runs, reaching about 23 miles. I was able to taper for nearly 3 full weeks heading into the marathon and had a couple small tune-up runs with the Folsom Half Marathon a few weeks prior and the Sacramento Turkey Trot 10 days prior. I BLAZED the turkey trot, logging a time of just over 42 minutes for the 10 k race (6:55 min/mile).
The day of the marathon was P-E-R-F-E-C-T. It had been threatening rain all week but on the morning of the marathon it all cleared up and the sun started peeking through the clouds. Temps were expected to be in the 50's, just about perfect for the race. I was carbo loaded thanks to a delicious spaghetti dinner prepared by Laura the previous night.
An iPod, snacks, and energy gels filled my pockets as I waited anxiously at the starting line. When the starting horn fired I was off, along with 9,000 other hopeful runners. We surged in a hoard down a 5 lane road blocked off for us for the half mile then turned onto a long and flat two lane country road, heading West from Folsom to Sacramento. It was crowded in the first two miles with some people surging ahead and others obviously starting too far in front and falling quickly behind other runners. I was zipping along at just under 8 minutes per mile avoiding those falling off the pace.
After a few miles I settled into my race groove which kept me at about an 8 minute per mile pace. I passed the time rocking out with Jason Aldean and other country superstars, watching other runners, and soaking in the crowds. As a runner you definitely get a boost from the crowd energy and excitement of the day -- and all the nice snacks and drinks handed out by volunteers along the way.
I kept surging along, but then miles 17 through 21 were strenuous; my pace dropped off probably 20 seconds per mile and I was starting to labor. I think that because of all my training my body was able to push through this and I picked the pace back up in the final 5 miles. Running shirtless a la the Incredible Hulk I ran full sprint the last 200 meters, releasing my inner beast with war whoops and various other displays of manliness.
I crossed the line at a time I was really happy with, 3 hours, 31 minutes and 51 seconds for a 8 minute, 3 second per mile pace. Not bad for a first timer! I exceeded my own expectations when I set out to train for this thing and I will always consider it a big life accomplishment.
During the marathon, I had great support from my girlfriend, Laura, her friend Brooke, and Laura's Dad, Alan. The ladies made signs promising beer at the finish line and one particularly special sign with a "B" inside of a Superman polygon.
Will I run again??? Perhaps -- I've since been on a few short runs and one 14 mile slow run. Maybe I'll run again at the end of 2011 ... until then I'm going to devote my fitness energy to something different .... stay tuned.
Official Results:
http://www.flashresults.com/2011_Meets/CIM/searchind/
June 2010 Post:
Today I signed up for the California International Marathon (CIM)! I'm really excited for this and have been training for a couple months. Running a marathon is something I've wanted to do for a while, one of those personal accomplishments I'd better get done in my youth. It's all about the journey. The training isn't necessarily fun, but it is good. The long runs TAKE A LONG TIME; I prefer morning runs so waking up at 5:30 or 6 o'clock takes extra motivation and commitment. That feeling of accomplishment during the last miles of the run makes it all worthwhile; the adrenaline on race day should give an extra kick too.
One of my favorite things about the training is the time to just think; there's not a whole lot is happening out there at 6 in the morning except me running with my iPod. It's the perfect time to reflect on what is going on and the important people in my life. Oh, and you know I'm listening to country music when I run ... a techno country mix ... that's what I need.
My goal is to finish strong and run about an 8 minute per mile pace.
26.2 miles, one stride at a time.
Back in May, 2010 I started training for the December 2010 California International Marathon. It was an experience I'll never forget, although maybe never repeat. I was religious in my training and worked my way up to some very long solidary runs, reaching about 23 miles. I was able to taper for nearly 3 full weeks heading into the marathon and had a couple small tune-up runs with the Folsom Half Marathon a few weeks prior and the Sacramento Turkey Trot 10 days prior. I BLAZED the turkey trot, logging a time of just over 42 minutes for the 10 k race (6:55 min/mile).
The day of the marathon was P-E-R-F-E-C-T. It had been threatening rain all week but on the morning of the marathon it all cleared up and the sun started peeking through the clouds. Temps were expected to be in the 50's, just about perfect for the race. I was carbo loaded thanks to a delicious spaghetti dinner prepared by Laura the previous night.
An iPod, snacks, and energy gels filled my pockets as I waited anxiously at the starting line. When the starting horn fired I was off, along with 9,000 other hopeful runners. We surged in a hoard down a 5 lane road blocked off for us for the half mile then turned onto a long and flat two lane country road, heading West from Folsom to Sacramento. It was crowded in the first two miles with some people surging ahead and others obviously starting too far in front and falling quickly behind other runners. I was zipping along at just under 8 minutes per mile avoiding those falling off the pace.
After a few miles I settled into my race groove which kept me at about an 8 minute per mile pace. I passed the time rocking out with Jason Aldean and other country superstars, watching other runners, and soaking in the crowds. As a runner you definitely get a boost from the crowd energy and excitement of the day -- and all the nice snacks and drinks handed out by volunteers along the way.
I kept surging along, but then miles 17 through 21 were strenuous; my pace dropped off probably 20 seconds per mile and I was starting to labor. I think that because of all my training my body was able to push through this and I picked the pace back up in the final 5 miles. Running shirtless a la the Incredible Hulk I ran full sprint the last 200 meters, releasing my inner beast with war whoops and various other displays of manliness.
I crossed the line at a time I was really happy with, 3 hours, 31 minutes and 51 seconds for a 8 minute, 3 second per mile pace. Not bad for a first timer! I exceeded my own expectations when I set out to train for this thing and I will always consider it a big life accomplishment.
Will I run again??? Perhaps -- I've since been on a few short runs and one 14 mile slow run. Maybe I'll run again at the end of 2011 ... until then I'm going to devote my fitness energy to something different .... stay tuned.
Official Results:
http://www.flashresults.com/2011_Meets/CIM/searchind/
June 2010 Post:
Today I signed up for the California International Marathon (CIM)! I'm really excited for this and have been training for a couple months. Running a marathon is something I've wanted to do for a while, one of those personal accomplishments I'd better get done in my youth. It's all about the journey. The training isn't necessarily fun, but it is good. The long runs TAKE A LONG TIME; I prefer morning runs so waking up at 5:30 or 6 o'clock takes extra motivation and commitment. That feeling of accomplishment during the last miles of the run makes it all worthwhile; the adrenaline on race day should give an extra kick too.
One of my favorite things about the training is the time to just think; there's not a whole lot is happening out there at 6 in the morning except me running with my iPod. It's the perfect time to reflect on what is going on and the important people in my life. Oh, and you know I'm listening to country music when I run ... a techno country mix ... that's what I need.
My goal is to finish strong and run about an 8 minute per mile pace.
26.2 miles, one stride at a time.
Monday, December 27, 2010
NASCAR, Bud Light, and Mullets!
Fast cars are American. Bud Light is the perfect beverage. Mullets provide the flexibility for business or party. NASCAR combines all three in a cocktail of American awesomeness.
I recently experienced my first live NASCAR race at Phoenix International Speedway for the 2010 Chase Cup. This was the 2nd to last race of the year there were three drivers in position to make a run for the Cup including Denny Hamlin in the 11 car, Jimmy Johnson in the 48, and Kevin Harvick in the 27. Me and the race crew of Reid, Trevor, Dennis, Andy, and Tim entered the race track to a cornucopia of greasy fair food -- everything from Papa Johns pizza to salted pretzels to nachos. For accompaniments there was $7 sixteen ounce "man cans" of Bud Light or Bud Regular. We grabbed as many delicious tall cans of alcoholic frivolity as our pockets and hands could muster then headed to our seats.
Part of the pre-race festivities included vintage Chevy Corvettes driving each driver around the track to salute their adoring fans. Following were were two parachuters piercing the sky with American flags and landing in the middle of the track. Next was the National Anthem and accompanying Blue Angel fighter jets buzzing the track. Finally there was the famous command of "Gentlemen, Start your Engines" (no Danica Patrick in this race!) and the track came alive.
One thing you quickly learn at a NASCAR race is the value of ear plugs. They are absolutely priceless. With 43 cars zooming by at unmuffled speeds up to 150 mph as well as crowds up to 100k, the noise is deafening. Thankfully we came prepared but if not I would have traded my two front teeth for some ear protection. From our seats 75 yards from the track the noise was so deafening that we couldn't even talk to each other; right up next to the track was like being next to a jet engine. The vibrations, sound, and speed coming off the track were spectacular; it's something you really need to experience in person to have an appreciation for.
The cars whipped around the track with Denny Hamlin, Carl Edwards, and Kyle Busch taking turns at the front. Denny led for 190 of the 312 laps; however Denny and teammate Kyle Busch made an ill-fated fuel and tire stop around lap 300 when all the other drivers stayed out on the track. Denny and Kyle were unable to make their way back to the front as the other cars conserved fuel and tires to the finish line. It was a risk that didn't pan out; poor job by their race teams. Jimmy Johnson gained valuable Chase Cup points and would overtake Denny for the Chase Cup at last race of the year the following weekend for his fifth consecutive championship. Poor Denny! Lucky Jimmy!
We hung around the track bar for hours after the race with hundreds of other race fans. Country music blazed from the sound system and Bud Light man cans were again the drink of choice. We met a man who must've been Don Mattingly's twin whose wife loved Reid's Kyle Busch "Pedigree Dog Food" shirt so much that Reid gave it to her right off his back.
Whenever you feel like American is slipping, head to a track and take in some gasoline fumes, burning rubber, and the sound of stock cars. You will be reassured that the simple, hardworking folks of this nation are still among us, camouflaged in their mesh trucker hats and long mullet locks.
Infineon Raceways in 2011!
I recently experienced my first live NASCAR race at Phoenix International Speedway for the 2010 Chase Cup. This was the 2nd to last race of the year there were three drivers in position to make a run for the Cup including Denny Hamlin in the 11 car, Jimmy Johnson in the 48, and Kevin Harvick in the 27. Me and the race crew of Reid, Trevor, Dennis, Andy, and Tim entered the race track to a cornucopia of greasy fair food -- everything from Papa Johns pizza to salted pretzels to nachos. For accompaniments there was $7 sixteen ounce "man cans" of Bud Light or Bud Regular. We grabbed as many delicious tall cans of alcoholic frivolity as our pockets and hands could muster then headed to our seats.
Part of the pre-race festivities included vintage Chevy Corvettes driving each driver around the track to salute their adoring fans. Following were were two parachuters piercing the sky with American flags and landing in the middle of the track. Next was the National Anthem and accompanying Blue Angel fighter jets buzzing the track. Finally there was the famous command of "Gentlemen, Start your Engines" (no Danica Patrick in this race!) and the track came alive.
One thing you quickly learn at a NASCAR race is the value of ear plugs. They are absolutely priceless. With 43 cars zooming by at unmuffled speeds up to 150 mph as well as crowds up to 100k, the noise is deafening. Thankfully we came prepared but if not I would have traded my two front teeth for some ear protection. From our seats 75 yards from the track the noise was so deafening that we couldn't even talk to each other; right up next to the track was like being next to a jet engine. The vibrations, sound, and speed coming off the track were spectacular; it's something you really need to experience in person to have an appreciation for.
 |
| I wanna go fast! |
 |
| Get me 1 more Bud Light! |
Whenever you feel like American is slipping, head to a track and take in some gasoline fumes, burning rubber, and the sound of stock cars. You will be reassured that the simple, hardworking folks of this nation are still among us, camouflaged in their mesh trucker hats and long mullet locks.
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| My Pit Crew ... refueling! |
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