Hiking the Neighborhood

An evening walk can be a remarkably calming and even therapeutic event. I especially enjoy walking in the dark, because in the summer it is cooler and in the winter it may be your only option with the sun setting so early. Morning walks? Occasionally, but in general I find getting up to do anything that isn't mandatory to be a challenge, so I am confined to after work and weekends to pursue exercise.

The act itself is magical, in my book. Surrounded by darkness and quiet except for the occasional door slamming or dog barking, I walk with my senses slightly heightened but my mind free to contemplate. Once in a while you pass another night-walker, perhaps a man out with his dog or a group of teens walking in a pack from house to house, or a lone jogger who breathes by in a split second of recognition.

It's mostly smooth walking, be it concrete sidewalks or the occasional foray on to the asphalt street. You can get in to a rhythm with your steps, your breathing, even your thoughts as you move along effortlessly, not worrying about the uneven terrain of a trail but with a thought or two about the upended sidewalk block or the carelessly left behind child's toy that can wreak havoc on your ankle or foot.

A neighborhood walk has some advantages:  such as you are already there so no drive time to add in to your busy day and no special equipment is needed. If you get cold, wet or dirty it doesn't really matter since your destination is home and presumably you can get clean and warm as soon as you return.

The experts claim great health benefits from a brisk walk and I can attest that the mental health benefits are outstanding. Many an issue has been worked out in my brain during a long walk in the neighborhood.

In future posts I will talk about walking vs hiking. You could argue the relative advantages of walking vs hiking and perhaps even try to convince me that taking a walk is "less than" in terms of training. I would counter by saying that doing something is better then nothing!

If you don't walk, try it! If you are already a hiker, don't look down on hiking's kinder and gentler option ... you may find yourself feeling calmer, stronger and fitter by simply stepping out the front door.

Ferocious Feline from the Hiker's POV

This story involves a suburban MetroPark just outside of Dayton OH. Hills and Dales MetroPark to be precise. Wedged in between luxury houses and a golf course, this strip of woods offers a fairly challenging hike with some nice views. This is not a back-country kind of trail.

We were on a routine training mission on a warm fall evening. The sun was rapidly disappearing behind the line of trees to our west. We flicked on headlamps and kept moving along the wide smooth trail.

BT was leading the way about ten feet in front of me when there was an explosion of fur and commotion at her feet. She jumped. I jumped. In the dim light I tried to make out what was happening. A possum? A dog? Some sinister backwoods beast bent on our destruction?

Our headlamp beams converge on a single part of the trail. On that trail stands our attacker: a small gray housecat.

Cute as a button with perky ears, bright eyes, soft well-maintained fur and a jaunty harness complete with tags that identify him as a MetroParks cat.

He travelled with us for quite some time, following his own unique hiking pattern: fall behind while investigating some curiousity, then run past us right at our feet, then lead for a while at our pace until another curiosity caught his eye. 

A hiking cat! Who also seemed to be using using us for playful target practice. Or is it something more? 

So I asked him to write his story ... and that was what you read in the previous post.

He was dubbed a number of names over the few times we encountered him.  "Bear" the housecat because he lives in the woods. Various takes on Hiking Cat. We finally settled on Ferocious Feline, because he was so intent on stalking us and trying to scare people by leaping out at them from the trail's edge.

Of course he is not truly ferocious. One father and son hiking duo approached us coming the other way on a day we had not seen our furry friend. The son asked if we had seen the cat that jumped out of the bushes and "almost gave my dad a heart attack!" It's fun to be there at the beginning of a legend which will no doubt ebb and flow as different people encounter the cat and their reactions are passed on. The Mystery Cat of Hills and Dales or the MetroPark Killer Kitty depending on individual levels of drama are all possible iterations of the critter we have dubbed Ferocious Feline.

I just hope he is having fun and stays safe. His personality is such one can tell he is used to being around people, and his health and condition tell me he has a safe place to stay, probably indoors. I like to think he has his fun running the trails and can retire at night to his warm bed next to a fireplace, a big bowl of food and a big bowl of water just off to the side and a litter box not too far away, and nearby, some humans to refill the love and attention he is sharing on our trails.

A MetroPark Encounter

It was the early part of a beautiful fall evening when I left the house to go out and stretch my legs. I wandered past the lawn and through the gate. The trail to the MetroPark beckoned; despite being littered with noisy dried leaves I was able to walk through without making hardly any noise.

I trotted along the trail. It smelled of fresh pine and wood chips and occasional wafts of smoke from campfires and grills. I heard the scampering of mice. I heard a deer off in the woods over to my left. I heard cars rumbling by on the road. 

I wasn't sure what my goal was that evening. I thought about walking over to the playground but there was another game I was interested in. I wasn't sure I'd be able to play tonight because it requires other players. It was always so random whether I got to do this or not. I followed the trail a few hundred yards towards what was always a good spot. In a few minutes I could hear the footsteps of what sounded like two people coming up the trail. Perfect.

I crouched low, quietly wedging my body in to a thicket of bushes. Listening quietly, I sat there and waited. I was poised and ready. I sensed a vibration in my limbs, the pounding of my heart deep inside of my chest, and I felt adrenaline coursing through my body as I waited for my prey. Each step closer I felt my senses becoming sharper: I could hear better, I could see better, I could smell their every move and I could taste them under my breath. Waiting is so intense, trying to figure out the timing and the element of surprise so you can get the drop. It's amazing how exciting this can be.  Trying to stay absolutely still and giving the prey absolutely no clue that you're waiting for them. I would guarantee you that these two people coming up the trail had no idea that I was there.

They were getting so close I could hear not just the footsteps but I also could hear the brush of the fabric and the creaking of the leather shoes and the metallic clink of keys in a pocket. I could hear her hair blowing gently as she walked and I could smell her perfume. They were talking back and forth in hushed tones. This was perfect, they had no defenses up and no idea that I was laying in wait for them. 

I timed it perfectly - springing out of the bush with all the energy I could muster. The woman screamed and jumped, startling the man who caught her as she stumbled backwards. 

I thought I had them for a moment but suddenly they were making their way back down the trail. I pretended to be disinterested for a minute until they got far enough away to feel comfortable that they were safe. With a spring and a mighty leap I ran until I got right on them, I even tapped one on the leg. Shooting past, I turned around to look to see what effect my attack had on the prey. They kept walking!

Suddenly I realized my prey was escaping. They were reaching the edge of my territory or at least the part where I couldn't go any further without feeling unsafe. I don't like to get too far away from home because it sometimes feels dangerous out here.

A quick dash to get in front and I turned to block the path.  I was getting ready to make my move when one of them reached over and rubbed the top of my head and said, "Hey Kitty what are you doing out here this time of night?"

I decided to play along, sooner or later they would lose focus and then I would pounce. 
 

They scratched my ears and petted me and played with my harness and tags, holding a brief conversation about where I lived and then they headed off down the trail.  That is when I realized I was going to let them go. I technically had captured them but I had no interest in another meal tonight.

I retraced my steps back to the house, pushed though the little swinging door, lapped up some water from the bowl, then curled up in my bed.  There will be another hunt, another opportunity for prey for me to pounce on.  Because the ferocious feline would be back.


 Tomorrow. 

When your blog needs a Reboot

I am the worst blogger ever. 

I can easily blame my changes in jobs, extended trips (which are fodder for this very blog), trying to catch up on long-neglected housework, caring for the ferrets, or a hundred other distractions.  But that is disengenous, since every one of you has your own list of things that eat up your day. 

Considering the title of this blog and my long-term intentions, it is time to apply my own Reboot process to my writing and get serious about keeping Reboot, Select Adventure current, fun, topical and at the least:  updated!

You reboot your computer when you get stuck.  If nothing is working right and you can't get anything done, sooner or later you have to pull the plug and start over. 

I hate getting advice from people who have already made it where they need to be. What worked for them may not work for you or for me.  Cookie-cutter solutions sound good at first but applying someone else's plan to you life sounds like a recipe for disaster.  My goal with Reboot, Select Adventure is to inspire you to look at your life and see if you need to make changes. I am mid-stream in the process, arguably just beginning after so many years.  This way you get to see my successes, my failures, my ups, my downs, and generally walk alongside me as I make my journey.  Will I inspire?  Of course, even if I fail miserably you will still walk away with some ideas of what NOT to do! 

I have collected many great stories over the past years and I look forward to sharing them with you. My goal is to post every Wednesday a new adventure or a new insight or at least a pageful of words. 

Teases: 

Trail magic
Riding the Rollercoaster
Is any hike a "scrub hike"? 
Glamping
Hiking the neighborhood
And much more!

I am committed to using this change of life as an opportunity to continue rebooting my life ... and there is no doubt that I am heading towards some kind of adventure.  Please join me each week!

Planning Part One

I call this Planning Part One not because I have a sequel already in mind. Nor do I have some extended idea that will require more than one post to flesh out. 

I do expect that there will be more than one of these simply because we are sliding into the pit of winter and one of the fantastic parts of this time of year is figuring out your plans for the upcoming year. 

Some of it is easy: for example my annual April backpacking trip, it is easy to plan and easy to post up on the Meetup site (copy, change dates, post) and the small change I did make to it -  well, I have 4 months to figure it out. I included a mystery day that really does not have any real plan behind it and a dozen or more people signed up for it. Hope I come through!

Other things are easy, I posted about a half dozen day hikes on DaytonHikers.org and any day now I will pull together the money to send to the Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure.  That along with dayhikes I have signed up for will get me rolling through about June. 

What is missing is the big adventure. I did not really partake of one this year, not compared to some of the posts you can read here. Poor planning, changing schedules, and a host of other little things conspired to keep me off the trail - not the least was a summer-changing injury that I may describe some day but for now trust me I was not moving well. 

I look forward to firing up the woodstove, grabbing maps and some copies of Backpacking magazine and working through the possibilities for 2015.  The AT? Somewhere else? Finger Lakes Trail is tempting but so is Michigan. A 10 day effort or a couple of long weekends?  Have to slip in at least one trip to Red River Gorge, just because.  The window is open to just about anything, and I promised myself I would get all of this arranged early on so I do not let 2015 slip away like this past year did.  There were opportunities for adventure that I could have taken, perhaps a motorcycle camping trip or a car camping exploration of sites worth seeing ... I let those get away too with busy weekends and chores and work.  Not this year! 

My adventures require planning because I have to work.  I have a generous but not unlimited vacation plan and it does require some thought to shoehorn in everything I want to do in a given year. Still I consider myself lucky to be able to do the things I do. 

So let the snow fall, I will tackle the winter in dribs and drabs with snow hikes and cold runs and too much time in the Rec Center. I will also pour some hot chocolate and sit by that fire and dream of what I can do.  Then all I have left is to make it a reality.

A Simple Night Out

It was a quick event, far short of an epic adventure.  It took longer to drive there than it did to walk the trails. 

In a quest to capture some Christmas spirit I signed up for a Meetup hike through DaytonHikers.org at a local MetroPark: A Luminary Walk at Aullwood Garden. 

On arrival I met up with the group and for a while we stood in the parking lot, shuffling our feet and chatting.  People introduced themselves and mingled. I knew some of the hikers but not all, my hiatus from hiking has kept me away while the group has added and subtracted members. 

At the designated time we headed into the park and walked along pathways cleverly lined with plastic milk jugs lit with candles inside.  Pitch black otherwise, we walked and talked and traded stories.  After a short while we found ourselves next to the Aullwood house where MetroPark rangers and volunteers were serving cookies and hot chocolate. 

A quick tour of the first floor of this quaint house, a short history lesson, and we were on our way back to the cars. The original group had splintered into many, and as we found our way back to the cars we had our brief "nice to meet you" and "see you again soon" comments and before I knew it I was back on the freeway headed home. 

So why is this short little trip even a part of Reboot, Select Adventure?

It was a good reminder that simple things are important too. A conversation with someone you have never met before. A hot cup of cocoa standing next to a fire burning in a drum. A chance encounter with someone you know who came late but caught up. Watching the kids dashing about, excited about a night out in the woods. A ranger with an expertly told tale about the history of the house and the grounds that momentarily takes you back in time.

It reminded me that in the long run adventures are about people. People you know and people you have yet to meet. What is an adventure without a tale to tell? What good is a tale without someone to tell it to? Plus it was just plain fun. We all were laughing. We all were playing.  We all enjoyed a simple night out.

Redefining a blog

How do you define adventure?

It started for me with the Appalachian Trail trip last summer; a perfect example of an adventure and this blog was started to help me explore the preparation, the trip itself, and my personal reflections on what I learned about myself throughout the entire experience.   During the process of documenting this I suddenly stopped writing and it took a while to figure out why.  Perhaps it was a lack of momentum, time commitments and phases of life, even sheer laziness and lack of commitment.   But there was more ....

I began to see adventure as more than a single trip.  This sentiment echoed through the writing and became more apparent each day-- that I was not going to come to any revelation from this trip except for one idea that kept bouncing around in my head:  I still have a lot to learn!

The real adventure for me is not what I have done, even though there are some great stories that I shared and more to come.  The excitement comes from the unexplored, the anticipation of "what's next?" and what it takes to get there.  I saw the concept of Reboot, Select Adventure take on a life of its own and grow into something bigger than the concept of personal growth through select outdoor experience.  I was living something that was different than I had ever experienced and I got caught up in the moment --forgetting to document it and share it with you.  That is easily rectified, though I am still wading across this river with no far shore in site.

I have new adventures from the winter to share, and adventures planned for this summer that are completely new to me as well as  others that will be more familiar but hopefully will come with challenges, twists, and a new set of highs and lows. Each decision I make right now is carefully considered to ensure that I am finding ways to select adventure over routine.  It's not perfect but I hope that as you take this journey with me the questions I raise will help you find your own personal path, and the answers we are all seeking come to us as we need them.


As I write this I recall that I should be on the trail right now but a series of events conspired to pull me off the AT and put me on a new path.  I will never know if it was a good decision, but it's a decision that was made and in that moment it opened up new opportunities that will become the next set of stories for June and July. 

Stick around and look for new entries on Sunday and Wednesday nights, as I round out the AT stories from last summer, talk about my experiences this winter, and very soon I will start documenting my next big thing. 

The thousand word picture Part 2

When I posted the picture last week I asked for some comments and received a few. They ranged from "courage" to "sleep walking".   I think that I captured some of the essence of what long distance hiking is all about.

First the picture. I could have staged a shot and fixed a few technical problems, but this was truly a snapshot. I like the composition. I like the way the trees are lit, the way our model was lit, the way the light looks like it is pushing at her. I like the placement of everything in the shot and I did not crop the final result. I like how our hiker interacts with the scenery and is the center of attention but still part of everything. Sometime you just get lucky ...

Then there is the feeling of action. There is a timeline in this picture; I see her putting one foot in front of the other, moving through the picture even though it is a frozen moment in time.  I see the confidence and determination; she looks strong with just a hint of fatigue.  She is definitely going somewhere.

She is walking on a trail, but in front of her everything disappears into a white nothingness. She does not know what is around the next corner or where exactly the adventure will lead. Behind her is a complete scene --- trees and trail and a sparkling, colorful landscape. It's like she is creating her environment as she goes. The experience belongs to each person and each hiker has the opportunity to make it into something uniquely their own.  She was choosing, or so it seems, to make special and and beautiful moments.

There is a story behind this picture.  This was day seven of hiking and we had been through a lot.  The day before we had watched EMS crews evacuate a friend with a broken arm off the mountain. We had spent a long night in a buggy, fairly awful shelter. We were all tired. Together we had done about 3 miles that morning and at a road crossing I bailed out so she could complete the last 15 miles in one high-speed push.  Her pack stripped of excess gear to lighten up, it was already 11:30 when she took off "slack-packing".

The rest of the team arrived to pick me up and we immediately set out to park at the next possible road crossing a few miles away to offer some "trail magic" in the form of ice water, cold drinks, snacks and our injured friend in the truck feeling better with her new sling on. That is where I grabbed my camera and took this picture. 

When I see that picture it takes me back to that day and everything that was going on. I see a woman who fought hard to get to this place and overcame all of the obstacles to push on. I see someone boldly walking towards the unknown and not breaking her stride.   I see a hiker that will achieve goals yet still enjoy the beauty around her.  I see a picture that tells not only her story, but shows anyone what it is like to be a backpacker on a difficult trail living life one step at a time.  

###

Note:  Laura and Cristina completed this hike together and arrived in Damascus safe.  This blog was about this picture, but I would not feel right without mentioning Cristina and her efforts too.  Step by step she hiked this hike and inspired her own stories that are coming.  She completed every mile including this 18 mile day and I applaud her strength and courage.   A picture of them together would have told a bigger story but technology or my skill as a shooter did not allow that. 

Cristina (front) and Laura during their 15 mile slackpack and 18 mile day, arriving at the Trail Magic intercept point

The thousand word picture

I assume everyone would come up with a different story about what is happening here.  Some would see a picture of an attractive woman, others would see a hiker, some may wonder about where the trail came from or where it goes, others may be interested in the conditions, or her state of mind.

This picture jumped out at me and I really like it, and not just because Laura is featured in it or because I took it. There are a lot of interesting things happening in this picture and I wonder what someone sees who did not share in the experience. I think it tells a number of stories about this adventure and about hiking in general.

Take a moment and comment on my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/selectadventure.  Tell me what you see or how this picture makes you feel. 

I will post my thoughts in a future blog.  

Overnight at "Double Bug" Shelter

My little group was dwindling.  Six hikers had shrunk to three.  Kenny was ahead of the bunch, last we had seen of him was before Watauga Lake.  Cathie had been plucked off the mountain by Carter Co Search and Rescue just that morning and Andy had accompanied her.  Cristina, Laura and I had decided to press on despite a mix of emotions.  Cristina wanted to get off the mountain, I was overly concerned about water on the trail, and Laura was trying hard to hold it all together while dealing with her concern about Cathie and the group.

I remember that the trail was not exceptionally difficult that day, but it seemed to keep going up and up and up.  I think I was just discouraged when we got to the road but a debate ensued for quite a while before we decided to hike out again.  We needed to decide if we were going to bail out at the road and reset in Damascus, or keep going.  Emotion was running high.

We had just topped off our water and we were heading to a shelter called Double Springs.  Earlier we had encountered a hiker who had given us a good report on water at that site, but a group of young people came by and told me they had been unable to find water.  After my two water emergencies that did not strike a real positive note with me.  I voiced my concern to Laura who snapped back and held my commitment to the light of day.   She also reminded me that listening to trail reports from three rather awkward looking young people was not the same as getting a thumbs up from an experienced hiker, and that we would press on and find what we need because that is what happens. I had to overcome my fears.

I realized at that point I was just letting everything get to me and I really had to go all in or get out.  I opted to stick with it ... she was right. We were still strong, we had food and water, the weather was fine, and we had a destination called Double Springs.  Figured we would find at least one of them!  Cathie was safe and we had decided to press on.  I had to trust in my team, trust in myself, and do what I had come to do.

Glad I stuck with it because soon we were crossing a really nice part of the trail through some active pasture complete with cows -- and we were on the same side of the fence that they were.  Making a mental note to not mention anything about my beef eating habits until we were out of earshot, we cruised past the cows who gave us a few disinterested glances and resumed munching grass.  Soon enough we had climbed the second fence and were back in the woods.  This little interlude of sunshine, nice views, and pleasant terrain gave me a second wind.  Unfortunately I did not manage to take any pictures, but the images are pressed in my memory and I think I just needed to hike and immerse myself back into my goal.

Soon enough we found Double Springs shelter and we set up camp. Though we had the shelter to ourselves we soon found out we actually had company in the form of thousands of little flying gnats.  Cristina swept out the shelter and set her tent up on the platform.  After a thorough search of the uneven grounds Laura and I ended up huddling our tents together on the only flat surface we could find.

Laura with her color coded gear, and note one camp shoe, one boot, one bandanna knee compression device and her commercial knee brace slid down to her ankle.  This kind of abandonment of style was par the course of all of us.

Cristina's tent on the shelter platform

Laura and Todd sharing the single flat surface.  No fire tonight!

 I doused myself with a more than liberal amount of 100 percent DEET.  Barely legal and not advised for anyone who fears any number of strange diseases, it did keep the bugs away so I could cook and eat my dinner.  Laura cooked and ate her dinner while walking around.  Cristina noted that the leaves of all the trees were thick with some sort of bug ... but in true outdoor fashion it was more a curiosity than a concern and most hikers tend to not worry about anything that is not going to actually drag you in the woods and devour you.  The bugs could wait, I had dinner to eat and sleep to work on.

The bugs subsided, and the evening cooled off a bit.  Cristina hopped into her tent and fell asleep.  Laura and I, true owls in the woods, sat up for a bit and enjoyed one of those nice interludes that make all the work worthwhile.  The moon came out and we tried to take pictures.  We heard an owl in the distance.  We talked about whatever and remembered to try to not wake up Cristina, just few feet from the table in her tent.  We looked at pictures and sipped water and just enjoyed the night, being out on the trail and some peaceful and fun time together.  Eventually we unwound and realized we were tired and we dispatched ourselves to our tents for some sleep. 

The next thing I remember is waking up to a loud buzz.  It sounded like a fly had gotten stuck in my tent fly.  Actually it sounded like a lot of flies.  I crawled out of my tent and puttered over to the table.  Cristina and Laura were not up yet, so I quietly brewed a cup of coffee.  Sitting at the table, sipping my drink, I hear that same buzzing all around me.  In the early morning light, with my glasses off and my awareness dulled from a deep sleep, I slowly start to notice that the ground seems to be moving.  I stare at the motion to find it is flies.  Hundreds of flies, lazily flying around the site.  I recall the bugs on the leaves.  They were now awake.  I watch with mild interest, so deep into life in the woods that I really don't care so long as they are doing their thing and not coming after me.

Cristina stirs and calls out,"What is going on out there?"
She is hearing the fly ruckus too.  "It's flies.  Everywhere."
"Is it bad?" she asks.
"It's like the I-75 of flies out here," I reply, referring to our busy Cincinnati/Dayton interstate highway.

With some efficiency we finished our breakfasts,  Laura woke up to about the same question and answer routine, and she soon emerged from her tent to face the flies.  With even more efficiency we packed and headed out of there.  Double Springs shelter was not an ideal overnight place, probably due to overuse, a lack of leave no trace habits, and perhaps the location and timing.

That was night six in the woods.  It turned out to be our last night.  Wish it had been a pristine campsite but we made it work.  We had some campsites that were great, so one out of six is not bad.  I slept just fine and yes, Double Springs had plenty of water.  We were fed, watered, rested and ready to tackle another day.

Fall on Iron Mountain

Fourteen miles, that is a long day.  I had been nervous about it since the beginning, but we were nearing the end.   We were uncertain about how far we had come, but Andy had mentioned that once we pass under a set of power lines, we would be close to camp.  It was a great relief to see that landmark and soon we came across a beautiful tent camping area right next to the water source.

A quick break to stake out a tent spot and we decided to fetch water before it got too dark.  A smooth, gentle downhill path led to a brisk stream with clean water.  One by one we secured our water collection gear and headed out.  Suddenly I heard a crashing noise in the brush, and a shout of pain.  Someone had fallen! I hurried down the path to find Cathie on the ground and Andy starting an assessment. We all fall now and again on these trails, little did we know at the time how serious it was.  I helped out for a minute and gave Andy some EMT tips but figured it was just a bump or strain.  Once she sat up, it started to develop into something far more serious.

A primary assessment revealed that she could not move her right arm, I palpated the elbow and noted that is appeared to be dislocated.  Circulation, sensation and motor skills were OK, so she cradled her arm and with Andy's help worked her way back to camp.  I quickly headed to the stream to tank up on water (an exhausted dehydrated spacy medic would not have contributed much to the cause) and scurried back to camp.  A better secondary exam performed by Andy and myself revealed that the damage to Cathie was limited to her arm, no other injuries and thankfully she did not hit her head when she fell.  I could not tell if anything was broken, but the dislocation was apparent from her limited range of motion. 

Andy and Cristina fashioned a sling out of assorted bedclothes (including I think some elastic long underwear) while I tried 911 on my phone.  We had cellular service at this campsite, and thankfully we all had mostly charged phones.  I did not expect much from 911, and once I described a non-critical patient they advised that we needed to hike out in the morning.  If anything changed, I was to call back, but with night coming on they were not going to mount a rescue for a dislocated elbow on a mobile, conscious, and otherwise healthy patient. 

Together we formed quite a team.  Andy was the primary caretaker and did an excellent job.  I was advisory medic and worked on locating Kenny (who had hiked on ahead after Wataugu Lake but was in a better spot to perhaps secure a vehicle), Cristina became the nurse, assisting Cathie with changing and getting comfortable, and Laura phoned an emergency room doctor.

The doctor talked to Cathie and reviewed her medical history and prescriptions, then we all listed what medications we had brought with us, and the doctor pulled together a plan for what to give Cathie to safely help alleviate her pain.

Andy and Cathie working on the travel sling

Cathie ate some dinner and we carefully tucked her away in her tent, where she spent a long, sleepless night.  The next morning Andy called the National Forest Service, who agreed to arrange for Carter Co EMS to send a team up to meet us by the power lines we had passed the night before.

Cathie and Cristina finishing up the sling

A better sling was fashioned from a water bladder that was partially inflated with air, and a tent ground cover.  This strange looking but effective sling kept her arm immobilized while she walked nearly a mile on the trail to get to the pickup point.  

Looking down the valley where the rescue vehicle came up

Cathie and her ground cover sling

Soon we saw a glint of light way down in the valley. A few minutes later an ATV was spotted coming up the hill, followed by a 4x4 Tahoe.  The Carter County Search and Rescue team had arrived.

Search and Rescue

Carter Co Search and Rescue

S&R, Cathie, Laura, Cristina

Pulling around to pick up Cathie and Andy

The powerlines

They quickly picked up Cathie and Andy and headed back down the way they came.  In seconds it was done.  Cristina, Laura and I were in shock, but we had agreed to keep going.  Sending the whole team down would have burdened the rescuers and would have contributed to logistical problems once off the trail.  The easiest thing to do was to keep moving forward and finish the hike to Damascus.  Once there we could all regroup and see what was next. 

Cathie was simply amazing.  The pictures tell the story, showing her with a smile on her face even though she was in intense pain.  She first offered to head down alone with the rescuers to not disrupt Andy's hike, but anyone who has ever been to an ER with a serious injury eventually appreciates someone with them.  It also allowed for a healthy person to carry her stuff, and to drive the car to get her back to Damascus.  At one point at camp she was even insisting that she be allowed to carry her pack, a request that of course was ignored and Andy carried her gear to the pickup point. 

We hiked on, down to three people in our team.  As we pushed on that day it was nerve-wracking, wondering about Cathie and deciding whether or not to bail out at the next road. We were also relieved at the relative ease which we had evacuated Cathie to a hospital.  One minute we are in crisis mode, the next minute she is gone, safely in the hands of professional rescuers. 

That alone requires comment -- relative ease.  She fell around 8:30 at night and got pulled off the mountain about 11:00 the next day.  That is 14 1/2 hours with not much treatment other than some slings and a handful of pain medicines.  She had to walk close to a mile to get to the evac point. 

That is life in the wilderness. The nearest road was close to 5 miles hiking on rough terrain.  The trail was on a steep ridge, so bushwhacking down would have been difficult, if not impossible.  We had some modern tools, such as our cell phones.  Plus this is an eastern trail near people, so we had the powerline access trail for the vehicles.  We also found out later that nearby Iron Mountain Shelter was accessible by vehicle.  Even with all that, we were pretty much on our own that night.   Of course a more severe problem or a medical emergency would have prompted a more aggressive response by local officials.  We were not in a dire emergency, but I would imagine it would have taken a number of hours to get someone up that hill in the best of responses.  That really makes me think about the possibilities, but that is why I train hard and constantly evaluate my capabilities.  I am still in this game ... and so is Cathie. 

Pond Mountain and Subway Pt 2 of 2

I had just climbed 1800 feet, descended 1800 feet, stopped at a beautiful lakeside park to get embroiled in controversy, one of our group had disappeared ahead, and some of the ideas floated about the rest of the day were less than appealing.  I was ready for a easy day as planned -- I was not even going to do that mountain and now my break at the lake was dissolving away and extra miles were in store!

That was when the idea was presented to head to town and secure some Subway sandwiches.

Junk food Nirvana

I have nothing against Subway, it is a staple of my urban lunch routine and many a conference call (carefully muted) involves munching down a sub to pass the time.  However in the woods, after three days of dehydrated food and energy bars and water, just the thought of a big, sloppy sub was too good to be true.  That it was within the realm of possibility was simply beyond words.

Andy recruited Cathie to hitchhike with him to town.  Not a proponent of that activity, while on the Appalachian Trail it is part of the routine.  Cathie had never hitched, and to her amazement the second car stopped and the driver happily took them to town.  My Subway order went with them, along with a special request to secure me a cold Pepsi.

I am enjoying that 20 oz Pepsi

While they were gone, Cristina stretched out in the sun and relaxed.  Laura and I splashed around in the lake and cooled off.  The gorgeous afternoon turned lazy and pleasant and sooner than expected they were back -- Subway, Kettle Chips, my Pepsi along with assorted other cold drinks, and cookies.  I applaud them for a job well done.  The five of us crowded around the table and feasted, enjoying this simple meal as much as 5 star cuisine.

 

Laura 

Sometimes the best part of backpacking is how much I appreciate the little things that I take for granted when I can get back to them.  A hot shower, a cold drink, real food, air conditioning.  This break not only appeased our hunger, but it changed our mood.  By the time we were done we were all content to hike on the camping area that was originally planned about 2 miles or so down the trail.  Mostly because we had used up so much time.  But I also think that we had relaxed and become content with just being out there and not being so focused on clocking miles.

This time spent together is one of my favorite memories from the trail. 

Andy, Laura, Cristine, Cathie

Pond Mountain and Subway Pt 1 of 2

The very sound of it is idyllic and sweet.  "Pond Mountain".  You picture a pretty little pond, lilypads, frogs, perhaps a wood nymph or two, or Pan playing his pipes as the animals frolic about.

Yeah right.  The reality of Pond Mountain is an 1800 foot vertical elevation change over about 2 miles, with limited views and no real reward at the top such as a panoramic vista or any of the aforementioned items.  I am not even certain I actually saw a pond.

After three days of high humidity, heat, and assorted issues with water, I was ready for a break.  The day before I had floated the idea of skipping Pond Mountain and joining Laura (who had hiked this already last year, and was also planning to skip it to ensure her knees would last the entire trip) on a shortcut to Watauga Lake park.  I was fighting with assorted symptoms of dehydration and was experiencing "day four syndrome" where the cumulative effects of this much exertion were playing a role in mental fatigue.

Andy has been pushing me to reconsider, and even Laura, our resident supporter of "hike your own hike", had suggested that I would feel bad about skipping a section.  Waking up that morning near Laurel Falls along an endless supply of water, I was starting to get rehydrated and after a quick check on how I felt, I decided I was going to give it a go.  Seems the feeling was contagious, because Laura decided to go for it too, and together with Andy we tackled the mountain as a team of three -- the rest of the hikers had forged on ahead to give themselves plenty of time and were planning on reforming the team at the lake.

The climb was hard, no doubt about that, but soon enough I found myself at the top.  Andy and Laura had gotten ahead after I took a "bio-break" and I did not catch up with them for some time.  Without the synergy of the group it was a lot harder to take each step, but I forced myself onward and upward and fought my own demons to keep moving.  Giving up was not an option, and I rewarded myself with quick breaks, allowing just enough time to burn off the lactic acid in my legs and to allow my pulse to slow a few beats.

Making things harder was a few false "summits" but I could tell I was getting close and the steep parts were behind me.  A corner or two and I caught up, only about 10 minutes behind.  Not bad, not bad at all.

The downhill was fun ... 1800 feet back down to the elevation where we started.  But this time I leaped forward, using my stride and momentum to carry me down the hill fast enough to secure a 10 minute break to wait for them to catch up.  You take your victories when you can!  In all honesty it was not a competition, though, it's just a lot harder on my knees to put the brakes on my weight and with a clean, smooth path I was better off just moving forward and gliding downhill.

Andy had staged a watermelon near the edge of the park, and together with our uneaten and unmolested prize in hand we exited the park and returned to civilization.  Kind of.

Watauga Lake park was full of cars and families, running water, and flush toilets.  That was about it for amenities.  We secured a picnic table and took some time to relax.  Cathie and Cristina has waited for us for hours while Kenny had grown weary of the delays and had pushed on.  Remember they were still thinking that Laura and I were short-cutting and fully expected to see us there at the beach already.    Andy would have double-timed it, so now we were hours off schedule due to our late start and a fairly slow hike up, over and down Pond Mountain.

Over slices of watermelon, the debate ensued as to when to leave and how many more miles to clock.  The two that had been there for hours were ready to leave, while the second wave was ready for a break.  Ideas were floated to go past our scheduled camp, but that would require getting on the trail.  I wanted to wade and relax and get my second wind.  Five of us came up with what seemed like dozens of opinions and the conversation was getting a bit contentious when someone, Andy I think, had a stroke of genius.

He and Cathie would hitchhike to nearby Hampton, Tennessee and secure food and cold drinks.

To be continued ...

Baby Bird

I can't recall the last time I worried about water.

Every backpacking trip I have ever been on has centered around water.  I get hot when I hike and I sweat a lot, so my water needs run higher than the average hiker.  Carrying enough water for me is like stuffing a bowling ball in the backpack.  It's a difficult weight vs benefit trade-off, since water is so critical for survival. 

In my peaceful suburban world there is not a lot of survival going on. Water flows from taps and the biggest danger I face each day is driving to work in a Subaru with 6 airbags.  It takes a while to become attuned to nature's lurking dangers.  It has been a long time since my last truly substantial backpacking trip and I will admit that I was rusty with my skills and allowed a beginner mistake to reach problem status.

It was day three on the trail and we were camping in a place where water access was difficult.  I had just used all my water for breakfast so I was hydrated, but empty.  The map showed a reliable water source just one mile down the trail.  Thus began the chain of errors ... my rule to never skip a water source had just been broken.  But it was just a mile and we had passed a number of unmarked but flowing water sources the day before.  Sounds simple, hike less than an hour and tank up.

The rest of the group had started and were far ahead, leaving me and Laura hiking together.  As we walked the beautiful valleys I began to notice that this side of the mountain seemed a lot drier.  I crossed a little smudge of water on the trail, but it was nothing much more than a muddy mess.  The map said reliable!  So we passed it by, thinking the reliable source was just around the next corner or at the bottom of the next valley.

Soon we realized we were well past the marked water spot with miles to go before the next marked water source. This began my baby bird procedure ... since Laura had about a liter in her pack, every 15 minutes or so we would stop and she would give me a drink out of her supply. To get water I stood right beside her, she would hand me the short tube, and I would take a drink.  We weren't uncomfortable with that, but it did give us the rough impression of a baby bird getting fed.

We caught up with the group on the trail when they were taking a break.  I explained my dilemma and they came up with about a liter to keep me going.  Bear in mind they too were rationing water having not filled up at camp, but they had calculated for themselves and not for a big, sweating, water-consuming teammate.  Soon they departed for our next waypoint, a hostel about 5 miles away.  Laura and I were drifting behind, our pace being significantly slower and we were still on break when they left.  A liter of water did not last me long, even stretching it out as much as I could. I at least remembered to stay hydrated even if it means running out quicker.

We reached a known point on the map where we stopped to evaluate our situation.  Straight ahead was the main trail or we could turn right and get on another trail to a marked reliable water source down a 600 foot hill.  It was a three mile hike to reach the hostel with unlimited running water.  Oh the temptation ... yet the reality was that it could take two to three hours in that terrain and the the day was getting hotter.  I sat down on a stump and felt a slight wave of nausea.  The decision was made ... I was turning right and climbing down and back up that infernal hill because I was not going to pass up another water source.  Laura readily agreed.

In a bit of a funk, we headed down that trail.  I noted that a stream was just to our right behind some bushes, and in a few hundred more yards we eyeballed the trail as it descended down for what looked like forever.  Not keen on that climb, the stream was going to be our source.  I would do whatever it took to fish some water out of it.  We turned back and got to the most likely spot, I grabbed my water gear and headed in.  Behind some bushes was a stream that was clean and clear, and deep enough to scoop water!  Which I did with great vigor.  Thanks to a Steripen uV water sterilizer, I had a liter of water in 90 seconds that I drank in two swallows.

That turned the day around in a flash. Everything seemed brighter, the colors came back, my mood lifted and this kind of unspectacular piece of ground became a simply beautiful spot. Together we refilled our water bladders and we set out our mats and took a much needed break.   We ate our lunch, then talked and relaxed and just had a great time, relieved that we once again had everything we needed to push on safely. Giddy over a few liters of water on a hot day, how often does that happen?

That muddy spot we passed? If we had traced it back from the trail there was water there to be had ... I never stopped to really look and let an opportunity pass.  I know how to find water, I was trying too hard to press on and did not take the appropriate time to really look, and to really see.  Get-there-itis is what pilots call it.

A few days later I had a similar issue when my full water bladder leaked out on break.  My only guess is that when I set down the pack it compressed the bite valve and the thirsty ground absorbed the slow leak leaving me no indication anything was wrong until about a mile down the trail when I tried to take a drink and came up empty. Impossible, I had not touched that water at all, having been drinking Gatorade from my Nalgene bottle up to that point.  With a hard climb to get back, once again we evaluated our resources and decided to head to the next watering hole.  Indications were it was muddy too, but I had the tools to squeeze water out of anything -- and the motivation to try.  Once again we were in baby bird mode with Laura sharing her water.  She had more water than the first time and we were in less critical of a situation but I still had to be careful.  I need about a liter an hour out there and I was not getting that.

Were we in true danger?  Probably not.  But in the wilderness "probably" is just not enough.  Things change in an instant and dehydration can hit hard and fast.  It would have been a miserable, hot, thirsty slog without her help.  A few miles later we caught up to the group and Andy had filtered a liter of water out of the mud which he gave me and that carried my to camp where we had readily accessible water.   Once again a member of our team came through for me.  We finished a 14 mile day and soon learned that water was the least of our worries, but that is another blog for another day.

I also noticed something:  I was stopping to drink, but Laura was not.  She was discretely saving the water for me and getting thirsty herself to do it. Granted a healthy dose of common sense was part of that decision, by not allowing a problem to escalate into a crisis and getting stuck having to tend to a 260 pound guy passed out on the trail, I get that.  The difference was the sense that we were in this together and together we were going to figure it out and push through.  No complaints, no sarcastic comments, no lecture, just a solution.  That is what I love about her, that perfect, easy partnership and that feeling of not being two individuals thrown together but an effortless team facing down challenges as one.  No need to impress or justify or explain, just work together and make it happen.

Be it the trail journey or life's journey, we need people we can trust around us.  Her act of caring showed me that there are people out there who do not put themselves first or offer assistance, but only at a price.  What a wonderful gift I have been given to have her beside me on this journey.  If we all could surround ourselves with people who truly care and create relationships based on trust rather than mutual self interest,  how different our worlds would be.

That moment in time

"What am I doing here?"

I get the feeling that at some point we all are going to asking that question ... I've experienced the lows on a hike and gotten to where I was ready to toss my pack in the ravine and walk the roads back to the car to never backpack again.  But something always pulls you through to where you keep going and sometime later you have some kind of wonderful moment that makes it all worthwhile.

I still remember stopping by a pond at a county park around lunchtime.  I was worn out and hungry, so I took advantage of a little dock to sit somewhere clean and eat my lunch.  As my mood improved I noticed it was a sweet idyllic spot.  Warm sun, singing birds, splashing frogs,  a light cool breeze, brilliant scenery ... I leaned back against a post and relaxed,  enjoying the heat of the sun contrasting with the coolness of the air.  I drifted away for a while.  I came away completely relaxed and energized and ready for whatever would come my way.  That is why I do this ... to find this trip's version of that spot and that moment when everything comes together in the kind of perfection that can only be found through complete immersion into your surroundings.  Coming across that spot when I did, and how I felt, truly created magic.

What is the course to reach perfection?  How do you find that moment in time where everything is just right, and you would not, could not, change a thing?  You believe that to seek your moment you need to be in motion because these moments are not looking for you.  You need to be in that place at that time.

If you are looking for moments you need to come prepared with the ability to recognize a moment when it presents itself and the ability to stop seeking long enough for that moment to unfold. Perfection is not a goal, it is something that just happens to you when you least expect it.  You turn a corner and there it is. Unexpected and unimaginable and very different from what you expected.


So now you have a quandary ... do you seek or do you quietly wait for it to arrive?  The answer for me is "yes".  Seeking is not an act of frantic discovery, blindly rushing from spot to spot peering into each door and throwing open every cabinet.  Think if it instead as a state of mind, where you can look at what is  already there and actually see it.  Really, truly see what is actually in front of you.  Slowing down the incredible pace of your mind long enough to absorb the details.  Then allowing yourself to believe in the unexpected and waiting long enough for it to happen.  And happen it will -- in my experience a life-changing moment doesn't happen because I was looking for it.  It happened because I was able to perceive it and I allowed myself to be carried away by the unexpected.

The hike itself will offer up many moments.  It's the act of hiking that will eventually lead to perfection.  The slow stripping away of the layers of perceptual clutter that blind us to our surroundings.  The repetitive walking and the much reduced burdens on your mind push you closer to a Zen state than you can ever hope to achieve in our daily lives with our cell phone, TVs, music, people, worries and concerns and all of the other clutter that you must strip away to aid you in your quest for that perfect moment.

Just as a monkey swinging through the trees grabs one branch and lets it go only to seize another, so too, that which is called thought, mind or consciousness arises and disappears continually both day and night.- attributed to The Buddha

I recall an exercise where you are supposed to look at something, anything, at some point in your day.  But not just glance and turn away and let it fade from your memory in a minute.  This time actually look at it and see it and remember it.  Study the shape, the color, the heft, the smell.  Commit to memory the location, the time, the weather, the light and the way the object interacts with this environment.  Make this the most important thing you will remember all day.  Take the time to do it right and notice everything.  Mull it over after you leave.  Think about it at lunch.  Recall the object fondly at dinner and go to bed remembering it before you drop off to sleep and dream about it.  This is an exercise in the art of perception.  It is also an exercise in taming your kapicitta or your "monkey mind".


So perhaps perfection is not a journey but a state of mind.  It is the end result of slowing down and noticing.  You put yourself on a trail and you strip away everything except food, water, shelter and the next step you are taking. If you are lucky you will go turn that corner and step into that glade and experience that moment of perfection.

I am going to take this journey not to seek but to shut down.  The real measure will be not whether I find perfection on the trail, but if I can Reboot my brain, quiet the kapicitta, and return to civilization with my perception intact and my mind clear and ready to see the perfection that is all around us. 

My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is

by Sir Edward Dyer

My mind to me a kingdom is;
Such present joys therein I find,
That it excels all other bliss
That earth affords or grows by kind:
Though much I want that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.


No princely pomp, no wealthy store,
No force to win the victory,
No wily wit to salve a sore,
No shape to feed a loving eye;
To none of these I yield as thrall;
For why? my mind doth serve for all.


I see how plenty surfeits oft,
And hasty climbers soon do fall;
I see that those which are aloft
Mishap doth threaten most of all:
They get with toil, they keep with fear:
Such cares my mind could never bear.


Content I live, this is my stay;
I seek no more than may suffice;
I press to bear no haughty sway;
Look, what I lack my mind supplies.
Lo, thus I triumph like a king,
Content with that my mind doth bring.


Some have too much, yet still do crave;
I little have, and seek no more.
They are but poor, though much they have,
And I am rich with little store;
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.


I laugh not at another’s loss,
I grudge not at another’s gain;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
My state at one doth still remain:
I fear no foe, I fawn no friend;
I loathe not life, nor dread my end.


Some weigh their pleasure by their lust,
Their wisdom by their rage of will;
Their treasure is their only trust,
A cloakèd craft their store of skill;
But all the pleasure that I find
Is to maintain a quiet mind.


My wealth is health and perfect ease,
My conscience clear my chief defence;
I neither seek by bribes to please,
Nor by deceit to breed offence:
Thus do I live; thus will I die;
Would all did so as well as I!

Deciding, It's A Mental Thing

This whole thing is becoming a mental exercise.  For years I have been reading about the Appalachian Trail and it began to take on a a mythic feel.  It was always something that someone else did, but was out of reach for the average person.  Granted most of these accounts are thru-hikes, where some desperate soul walks the 2000 plus miles in one long journey.  That remains out of reach for me,  I have serious doubts that I could maintain the mental stamina required to pull that off.  No matter the length, tackling any portion of the AT always seemed to be the domain of some other type of person.

Which is utter nonsense; every hiker I have met is an individual and to typecast any of them is a gross disservice.  I have no doubt I will run into everybody from elderly couples, to young college kids, to middle-aged businessmen, and everything in between.  There is no "type", but there is a common thread.  At some point each person made the decision to do it.

I can assume that the vast majority of people never even ask the question.  Of the remaining percentage, only a small percentage of them take that first step.  In that decision comes questions about fitness, mobility, means, availability, and other factors that come into play.  I am lucky in that I have the baseline fitness, financial means and availability to pull this off without having to make massive accommodations.  The biggest effort was making the commitment and that meant getting past the fear.  Yes, fear.  That coming from a person who spent 20 years as a firefighter, rides motorcycles, flies small planes and solo hikes.  So it was, and remains, more of a mental challenge than a physical one.   That no doubt will reverse when I get to my first day long uphill hike and my body runs out of steam -- but the experts would say that is mental too.  If I don't take on each day knowing I can do it, I am setting myself up to NOT be able to do it.  Self-fulfilling prophecy, or whatever you want to call it.

I have found the best way to conquer fear is to decide to tackle it head on.  At some point you just shrug and say "OK".  Bear in mind this is not bowel-quivering, adrenaline rush fear, no, this is more the nagging voice of self-doubt that accompanies this kind of adventure.  Can I walk for 14 miles on day 5?  Can I carry 10 pounds of food?  Will I be able to manage the heat or the cold?  Will I take a tumble and hurt myself?  Honestly I could go on and on with those nagging self doubts, but inevitably the answer is "yes".  I have years of camping and backpacking experience, top notch almost ultralight equipment, a great team of people I trust, and the gift of a body that has the capability to absorb a lot of punishment before it fights back.

The other way to conquer self-doubt is to prepare.  I have hiked longer and harder than ever before this past few months. Given three month's notice, I launched myself into this thing with great vigor and have noticed extreme benefits.  Hills that used to leave me gasping for air now barely raise my heart rate.  To date I have lost 37 pounds.  I feel confident yet not over-confident and though I am smart enough to listen to my inner voice of self-doubt, I am also prepped with a counter-argument and a plan.

This past weekend Laura and I tackled two different trails for a total of about 11 miles.  Squeezed in between other activities and the inevitable housework that accompanies the weekend, we did these miles in about 4 to 4.5 hours.  What made this significant was heat ... like much of the country, we were experiencing mid-90 degree days.  Despite that, we set a good pace and rolled through these hikes with no problem.  That gives me a good indication we are close to being ready to go.  I doubt we'll experience much hotter ... at least I hope not.  But at least now I can remind my inner voice of self-doubt that I already tackled two different high heat and humidity hikes and was not much the worse for wear. 

I promote this AT trip as a "life-changing event".  I have caught some heat for that, with suggestions that I wait and see what this trip means to me after it is over.  A few problems with that ... as a writer I need to keep my eye on the ball for the duration and that means capturing these events and thoughts as they occur.  That way if I come off the mountain a changed man I will have my notes in place already.  The really important thing, though, is that the actual trip is just a part of the journey.  The physical results I have already achieved are already life-changing.  Other things are changing, too. 

When you Reboot because Office stops working, well, everything else gets a fresh start too.  You can't truly Reboot without starting everything fresh.  You may not load the same programs ... you have the option to Select Adventure.  This blog is about a hiking trip, but Reboot, Select Adventure is about much more than a single trip.  It's about creating life-changing adventures and having the courage to look life in the eye and deciding to tackle it straight on. 

Notice the word choice:  Deciding.  It's a mental thing ... be it work, play, life, or love, everything starts with a decision.  An adventure like this where you push your boundaries and accomplish things that are way outside the norm gives you a great place to look at everything with a fresh perspective.  When I am done with this trip I will be one of those people who took on the AT, if only a portion.  I will have hiked a lot of miles, missed a lot of showers, slept in cars and tents and shelters, and ground my way on foot to a goal.  That is when the hard work begins ... taking the best of the old and combining it with the new and making sure that when this is done I didn't just Reboot but I also decide to hit Select Adventure every day.

Wildcat vs Hikers: The Tiebreaker

The nine hikers that started out on a Friday night had endured cold, wet, bad trails, fatigue, heat exhaustion and a mid-hike change in personnel.  That gave the Wildcat trail a 2 point advantage.

Six hikers went on to challenge the second half of the trail and enjoyed beautiful vistas, powerful scenery, relaxing breaks in soft pine forests, and a chance to bond together as a team to finish strong.  That evened out the score at 2-2.

Perhaps we could tie ... but there was one more part of this adventure that I have not yet mentioned.  Two hikers bid adieu and headed for home, leaving 4.  One was from Columbus and three were from Dayton.  Free will was lacking, perhaps by the fact that me, Barb and Laura were all in one car.  But I think we all were in agreement as we headed north on Rt 13 towards Columbus that we needed to celebrate in style and to be completely honest, I think we were all hungry.

I don't remember who suggested it first, but we ended up in German Village in Columbus at Schmidt's Sausage Haus und Restaurant -- an authentic German eatery tucked away downtown.  Rick and I attacked the buffet and beyond that I don't remember much.  Steaming plates of sausages, potatoes, sauerkraut, and other delicacies pretty much clouded my senses.  After two days of dehydrated food, and, for me at least, stolen food, it does not take much hiking background for anyone to imagine that a restaurant of any kind is a sensory overload and something akin to an otherworldly experience.

I actually did not stuff down as much as I could have, but every bite was delicious and the celebratory tone added to the fun.  Think about it ... we went out into the woods with nothing more than we could carry and not only lived through it, but took on the challenges as they came our way and fought back.  Sure we have good gear and lots of experience, so perhaps I am being melodramatic, but any time you can shake off the protection of all of our modern conveniences and pretty much effortlessly continue to live in relative comfort with just what you can carry in your pack, along with hiking 15 miles, I believe you have earned a celebration.

To be able to walk out of the woods and within an hour be dining on authentic German cuisine shows me that we have style.   No rush to get home to shower.  No aches or pains.  No worries about our hair or the dirt on our clothes ... just 4 friends having fun that by the way, just spent the last 48 hours in the woods.  That is pretty good karma.

Next month I will be out for 10 days.  I assume within that span we may go 3 or 4 days at a stretch living out of our packs.  I can only imagine how we will celebrate every victory, every bit of trail magic, and our eventual return to civilization.  That is part of the hiking experience, the contrast to our daily lives.

So I think we earned at least one point. That puts the final score at Wildcat 4, Hikers 5.

We won!

Wildcat 2, Hikers 2: The Adventures Continues

Distractions and unexpected events have pulled me away from the Wildcat Hollow weekend.  When I last posted we had suffered through cold, wet, heat, sickness, and getting lost.  The park had pulled all the stops and was determined to beat us ... but persistent hikers we are, the score was evened up by Sunday.

Six remaining hikers pulled stakes and departed from the overnight campsite on a chilly and damp Sunday morning.  Three of the hikers had decided to bug out early and take the roads back to the cars.  Fine by me, I am good with "Hike Your Own Hike".

As the morning progressed so did the sun, and the temperature.  Soon we were hiking through the next campsite (which I now know is much superior to the one I picked and is now my new official midpoint) and onward through some of the most picturesque parts of this park.  Towering pines, steep valleys, wildflowers, and some challenging trails.  We stopped for breaks in the pine trees, people and packs  scattered about on the pine duff quietly talking and enjoying the breeze and the company as we relaxed, took it easy, and thoroughly enjoyed a great spring day.

We ate lunch perched on a log like birds on a wire.  I had accidentally left one meal in the car and was planning on devouring my emergency rations for lunch: a Clif Bar and some leftover GORP.   I was going to talk about how we shared food but, truth be told, that consisted mostly of my eating a goodly portion of Laura's food.  I don't feel guilty, after all I was really just trying to lighten her pack.  The tuna was delicious! 

As we moved along the trail the temperature soared to 82, but the breeze was dry and the sun was out and the hike was fantastic.  The actual Wildcat Hollow was wonderful, the trail winds down and around this sweeping valley lined with dozens of downed trees.  A true testimonial to the power of nature, this area has been ravaged by storms and everywhere we went there were signs of destruction.  But unlike man-made vandalism, this was beautiful and sad at the same time.  The trail had to bob and weave around countless deadfalls and fallen tree trunks too big to climb.  But the trail found its way and the trees will grow back and the park will remain beautiful year after year as it changes and restores itself. 

We pushed past the hollow and entered some less attractive lands to finish up the last few miles.  A few steep climbs, another ravine or two, and suddenly we are back at the cars.  We made it!  Two nights, two days, 15 or so miles, everyone safe and sound and ready to do it again. It took us from 10 am to about 4:30 pm (give or take, I was not really keeping track) to go 8 miles.  Tells you something about the breaks we took ... and that was the point.  Easy pace, but a real outdoor adventure. 

This day earned the hikers two points.  We slept in the cold, we hiked in the rain, we hunkered down under a tarp, we saw a temperature range of just about 50 degrees from coldest to warmest.   We climbed hills and squished along miles of muddy trails, but we we rewarded with great views, big fun, and a great time with some wonderful friends, old and new.  I think we earned these points ... but the true reward was a perfect hike on a perfect day.  Can't ask for much more.

As to the score, we are tied with the park now. Wildcat 2, Hikers 2.  Come back and visit Reboot, Select Adventure for the tie-breaking event that either hands success to the park or to the hikers.  It could go either way ... who will win?