A Comedy Of Errors

I just returned from a week in the Colorado mountains with my son and his friend, and it was a comedy of errors. We made quite a few errors, so I’ll examine the trip, the errors, and the solutions.

The initial plan was to climb Snowmass and Holy Cross via their standard routes. We left Kansas City late on Friday night, driving all night to Denver. We stopped at the Boulder REI store (which opened an hour before the Denver store) to buy last-minute items, then headed to Aspen and the trailhead. That’s where we discovered our first problem – I’d forgotten to get fuel cartridges for my stove.

Mistake #1 – Make a list, and follow the list. I knew I needed fuel, it was on my mental list, but that crucial moment in the store passed without my remembering it.

We decided to go for it anyhow – my son had my old Whisperlite stove and half a bottle of fuel – we figured that would be enough for our few hot dinners. So we started up the trail, packs bulging with way too much stuff.

Mistake #2 – Do your training with a full pack. We trained with packs that contained sleeping bags, tents, and foam pads, but they were feathers compared with the packs full of food and other essentials.

The trail had a lot more up to it than I remembered, and I think the lower part had changed in the decade since I was last there. We walked for several miles and several hours before finding a nice campsite. We were beat, both from being up all night driving and from the altitude change. It was about this time my son’s friend discovered he had left his medication in the truck.

Mistake #3 – Don’t forget the essentials. In this instance, necessary medications, but it could be other essentials as well. See Mistake #1.

Since other hikers had mentioned seeing a bear in the valley above us, we made sure we hoisted our food up in a tree, but it was not necesssary. I dispensed with the tent and slept under a clear starry sky. The next morning, my son and his friend decided to go back to the truck and retrieve the medicine, as well as some forgotten food. It took them almost three hours to go and return, with no packs at all. By the time they returned, I had discovered that my water filter was missing a critical part.

Mistake #4 – Test all gear at home first.

After last summer’s campout, I purchased a new water filter as the old one finally self-destructed. I seem to remember pulling it out of its bag, glancing at the manual, and packing it all up. When I went to fill our now-empty water bottles, the piece that attaches the input hose to the pump/filter was not in the bag. Without it, no filtering could occur. I had one bottle of Tang and one of Gatorade left, so I gave the Tang to the boys when they returned. Since I was older and presumably slower, I left while they were still packing up.

After about ten minutes of hiking, I heard a noise to the right. Glancing over, I saw a large black bear about fifty yards away in the forest. I tiptoed about twenty feet up the trail to a large tree. I hid behind that tree while getting my camera out of my pack. By the time I stepped out to take a picture, the bear was nowhere to be seen.

Mistake #5 – Keep the camera in your pocket or belt pouch, not in the pack.

I continued up the trail, trying to walk quietly and looking intently into the surrounding forest, but never saw the bear again. After another several hours of hiking, I finally arrived at the beaver ponds. We had decided not to attempt to camp at Snowmass Lake, as no fires were permitted there.

The boys arrived shortly after I did, even more tired than I due to their roundtrip to the truck. We found a campsite, gathered firewood, and went to start dinner. At that point, we found yet another problem…a clogged stove.

Mistake #6 – Test all gear at home first. Yes, this bit us again.

The stove was my old MSR Whisperlite, which has worked flawlessly for decades. I dug out the toolkit and found the poker tool…which was missing its little wire. We could not find anything else that could be used to unclog the stove, and even disassembling it did not help. At this point, the only way we could get drinkable water was to boil it over the campfire. Fortunately, there was no fire ban this summer, so this was doable.

By this point, we were sore, exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated. After realizing we still had another 4,000 vertical feet to go before the summit, we decided to leave in favor of another, easier, summit. So, on day three, we spent almost four hours walking back down to the truck. Since our packs were still overloaded, there was a lot of pain involved.

After returning to civilization, we bought more stove fuel in Glenwood Springs, and treated ourselves to the Glenwood Canyon Hot Springs pool (at $16 per person). We thought about Holy Cross, and the need to go up 1,200 feet in a mile to make it over the pass. Our shoulders told us “No Way!”, so we decided to go for Mount Antero instead. It was good to have this flexibility.

I’ll go into details in another post about Mount Antero, but at least we were done with the mistakes for this trip.

Urban Camping

I haven’t used the term Urban Camping before, but a friend’s situation requires I cover this item. Urban Camping is basically a euphemism for being homeless. In these dark economic times, this situation is affecting more and more of us. I’m fortunate to have a home and a good job, but it’s rediculously easy to lose both.

I’d like to introduce you to my good friend, Miles Andrews. I’ve known Miles for more than 25 years. Way back when we were both irresponsible youngsters, he taught me how to climb ice. We’ve climbed a large number of mountains together, and had our share of campouts. Miles has been living in his truck since April, a victim of economic downturn.

Miles can and does work, but barely makes enough to cover food and gasoline. There is certainly none left over for shelter. Fortunately, his truck is large enough for him to sleep in, and he has a decent selection of camping gear. Unfortunately, he lives in Denver, and this winter is forecast to be both colder and snowier than normal. He started his blog in hopes of attracting employers looking for a writer, newly homeless looking for advice, and perhaps attracting the occasional charitable contribution to his PayPal account.

The Importance of Layers

I took my son and his friends camping in Colorado over the Memorial Day weekend. While I knew that summer often came late to the high country, I didn’t figure there would be as much snow as there was.

Our destination was Fall River Reservoir, not too far west of Denver. When the kids were younger, we spent many a happy day canoeing on the lake. I thought we would be able to drive all the way to the lake, although I expected a persistent snowdrift right near the end of the road. We didn’t make it that far – I think we had to stop about two miles short of the lake due to waist-deep snowdrifts across the road. We hiked up the road about a mile until we found a flat dry area large enough for three tents. We did walk to the lake the next day, encountering almost solid snow including one drift estimated at 20 feet tall.

Since we didn’t expect winter, we didn’t really bring winter clothes. Fortunately, we did bring plenty of layers, and a few extra layers made the difference. At the last moment, I added my winter parka, which consists of a windproof water-resistant shell and a zip-in fleece liner. With this, I was able to stay warm without needing the other layers I brought, which I was then able to loan out to others. I ended up loaning out two pair of fleece gloves, two fleece hats, one fleece top, and one windproof shell.

The kids also learned the importance of having good boots – one had an old pair of my boots that were heavy but still fairly snowproof. Another only had tennis shoes – he needed to dry them and his socks every night around the fire. The rest of us had fairly good boots, and they worked well in the snow despite the fact that I forgot to bring any gaitors.

It was fortunate that it wasn’t any colder and windier than it was. The afternoon temperature climbed into the mid-60′s, and it was mostly sunny. However, the nighttime temperatures sank to just below freezing the first night. That wasn’t a problem for most of us, but two kids had sleeping bags that weren’t quite up to the cold. The second night, we sent them to bed with Nalgene bottles of hot water, which helped them stay warm.

While the campout wasn’t perfect, it was fun, with just enough hardship so that the younger generation might learn from it. I learned my lessons almost thirty years ago, so I was adequately prepared.

Camping Food

We went shopping this weekend and bought most of the food we’ll need for the Memorial Day trip. The remainder will be purchased in Denver as soon as we arrive. Our plan is for two dinners, two lunches, and two breakfasts. For the most part, each person will carry his/her own food, but some things will be shared.

Back in the old days, we carried the Army Meals Ready-to-Eat (MRE’s) that we bought at a local military surplus store. The recipes were generally fairly tasty, and some versions included a tiny bottle of Tabasco sauce (which could make anything edible). We’ve mostly stopped this practice because the ones we can find in KC and Denver don’t have the selection they used to, and they seem to have gone down in quality.

I’ve never been a major fan of freeze-dried food. Much of it has either the taste or the consistency of cardboard, and we’ve seldom had the need for the low weight. I could see using a lot more of this type of food if I were a long distance hiker. All I can say here is visit your favorite outdoor store and see what they offer, and ask them what they recommend. You might enjoy it better than I did.

As a side note here, it’s pretty easy to make your own dried food. When I was in college (30 years ago), I built a food drier out of a wooden box, three screened racks, and a light bulb. I was able to dry a lot of fruits, meats, and vegetables over the course of a semester for my camping trips. Since then, I have purchased a small drier and still make my own jerky and dried fruit leather.

For this trip, our dinners consist of Hormel Compleats microwave meals. While they’re intended for microwaving, they work great when boiled. They are complete meals, lacking only a drink and fruit. According to the web site, they come in 25 varieties but I’ve seldom seen more than about 8 or so at the average store. When the dinner is ready, you also have hot water for hot drinks, so we will be taking an assortment of tea bags, hot cider, and hot chocolate. Since making hot chocolate with just hot water leaves a lot to be desired, I’ve included a bag of powdered milk to add some body to the hot chocolate.

For breakfast, we’re planning on hot tea, oatmeal, and granola bars. Since I’m not a major oatmeal fan, I tend to get by on granola bars and a fruit cup, with maybe some beef jerky thrown in for the meat course. We will also have hot cinnamon rolls, thanks to my collapsible reflector oven.

Our lunch might be eaten on the go, during a hike perhaps. As such, we have easily-packable food like a beef stick, string cheeze, crackers, dried fruit, and trail mix. If we’re near a stove at lunch, some of us might have hot Ramen noodles.

We did most of our shopping at the food section in our local Target due to their Archer Farms brand. Among other things, they make over a dozen kinds of trail mix, as well as crackers and chips.

So, we’re carrying way more weight than we should, but the luxury of tasty food more than makes up for the weight. Fortunately, it’s not as though we’re going far – I think the total walk in will be about one mile and 300 vertical feet at the most.

Packing It In

How do you pack for a camping trip? More important, what do you pack? Of course, there are no rules, but here’s some guidelines for a trip we’re taking to Colorado for Memorial Day weekend.

To start with, there’s the pack. I have an old Mountainsmith pack that is rather heavy but so comfortable I hardly know I’m wearing it. It has an internal frame and the capacity to carry far more than I want to lift.

I start with the essentials – tent, sleeping bag, and foam pad – because they tend to take up the most room. The sleeping bag goes in at the very bottom, and due to the size of the bag and the pack, I’m able to turn it sideways to take up less vertical room.

The vertical room is taken up by the tent and rolled-up foam pad. After these three items, I start stuffing in the medium-size items. These items include the stove, fuel, pot, water filter, and any empty water bottles (full ones go in another location). These items are somewhat padded by spare clothing.

Food goes in next. I tend to divide the food into bulky hard items (like Meals Ready-to-Eat or all-in-one dinners) and soft items (fruit, nuts, jerky, etc). The bulky and hard items get stuffed into the pack, while the other items are all added to a standard grocery plastic bag. Any fragile or crushable items go into the top compartment.

I generally have enough room left in the top of the pack for a pillow (down, compressed) and some electronics. On this trip, I’m taking my compact camera and new camcorder, as well as a tripod and a set of lenses and filters. The top compartment is the ideal place for these fragile items, with some of them wrapped in socks or a hat. There’s usually enough room there for a few toiletry items too.

Finally, the pack is packed, but a few items go on the outside. I have a Camelback water bladder with hose, and the pack has a special compartment on the back just for it (or for crampons in the winter). If we’re only hiking in a few miles (like this time), I may strap a folded camp chair on one side. The other side may contain my .22 rifle on the rare occasions I take it. Finally, there are two pockets for water bottles.

I also have two of the collapsible hiking poles that come in handy. Since they’re collapsible, I can easily do that and bungie them to the pack if the terrain doesn’t require them.

This is an overview, and as it gets closer to the trip, I’ll add an entry about food and clothing.

Starting a Fire

You might think that starting a file is a simple process, and generally it is, but it sure seems many people have problems with it. It helps, of course, to have a working lighter…they’re certainly cheap enough (and have a nearly-infinite shelf life) so carry two with you – one hidden away and one close to hand.

When starting a fire, kindling is everything. Kindling can be any small bit of wood, including dried grass, wood shavings, pine cones, or small sticks. Generally you can find it where you are, and if you cannot, then you have no business having a fire anyhow.

Pine trees generally have a wealth of kindling – look at the base of the trunk for small dead wood. This wood can often be perfectly dry in the middle of a rainstorm because the leafy branches above protect it. If you look closely, you may also find some wood with tree sap on it – pine sap burns almost like gasoline and can easily help you get your fire started.

Some people make an elaborate fire, then place a small burning stick (i.e., match size) in the middle. Others start small (just the kindling) and add larger and larger sticks as the fire grows. I don’t know that one group has an advantage over the other.

It helps to have a little bit of fire starter. When I was a smoker, I would take a used cigaret butt and dribble a few drops of my Coleman stove fuel on it – it then burns like a candle for a few minutes. Since I no longer smoke, other options can be used. My favorite is to take a film canister, fill it with dryer lint, then dribble some candle wax from a burning candle. The resulting lint/wax combination works great, and it is very small and lightweight…and it can be even lighter if you forego the film can and use a ziplock baggie instead.

When you’re ready to start your fire, make sure all the wood you need is within reach. Once you have flame, slowly add the smallest wood you have, then move on to larger pieces once the flames are over six inches high. If any of your wood is wet, pile it up at the sides of the fireplace so it can dry in the fire’s heat.

If you really want your fire to last a long time (say, all night), look for a tree stump. Many times someone will cut down a tree and leave a stump several feet tall. Once the in-ground portion rots, you can easily knock the stumps down. With a decent stump, you should have plenty of hot coals in the morning.

Memories of Mt. Rainier

I’m in Seattle this week. On the flight in, I had a great view of Mt. Rainier and it brought back memories of my climbs there. I attacked it once in the late 80′s with two friends, but we failed pretty quickly. Our first mistake was to attempt it on the Memorial Day weekend…that’s way too early. Our second mistake was carrying too much gear.

Two of us came back (me and my friend John), along with climbing partners Michael and Shari, and summited in early July 2000. It was still, however, a major effort. Let’s start with the gear…

First off, you need camping gear. Not just any gear, but a really nice 4-season tent (because it’s almost always winter on Mt. Rainier). It helps if your tent has two doors and two vestibules…ours did not so getting in and out wasn’t as easy as it could have been. I later bought a tent for the purpose of extreme camping, and I made sure it had two doors and vestibules.

You will be sleeping on snow, so you need to bring at least one snow shovel to level your space. You will want space blankets and foam pads to keep your body off of that cold snow. You will need a stove, or better yet, several stoves, as well as a lot of fuel. Why? Because you have to melt snow for your water. And bring a filter, because you’ll need to filter that melted snow due to the sheer number of people camping at the base camp. Plan on spending hours every day melting water.

Since it’s cold, you will need to make sure you have enough food to provide the calories you need for the climb and the cold. You could take dehydrated food, and we did take some, even though it’s not the most edible food in the world. How many days of food will you need? Well, that depends on your climbing speed, and I’ll cover that in a minute.

In addition to your normal camping gear, you’ll need serious winter gear. By serious, I mean the kind of gear you might wear downhill skiing, or climbing ice. Even though it was July, I think the temperature hovered around 10-20 degrees during the day, and probably got below zero at night. So you will need long underwear, fleece, windproof layers, gloves, hats, and a parka of some kind. Even if you’re wearing most of it, it still takes up space and weighs you down. And don’t forget the sunglasses (or better yet, glacier glasses) because the sun glares on the snow and ice.

Finally, you’ll need all your normal ice climbing and glacier travel gear. Each person will need strap-on crampons (and some kind of heavy winter climbing boot), at least one ice axe, a harness and some carabiners, and some protection like ice screws, pickets, and/or deadmen. This can add on ten pounds easily, and you’ll also need a rope or two. Ideally, one rope for every two or three climbers, although we managed to put all four of us on one rope.

You’ll also need a headlamp, since most of your climbing will be done in the dark. And plenty of spare batteries for everything, since they die quickly in the cold. You will probably want some kind of water bladder like a Camelback, as it’s much easier to drink while you climb than stopping to take the pack off and get out a water bottle. One drawback we found to the water bladder is the drinking hose – ours all froze within the first hour on the trail and we had to resort to water bottles. You can get insulated tubes for your water hose, or you can blow the water back into the bladder after you take a drink.

So, let’s look at the timeline here. The first day was spent hiking with all the gear from Paradise to Camp Muir (if you go the traditional route). This day covers five miles, with a 5,000-foot elevation gain. If you can get your pack weight under 40 pounds, you may be OK, but it will still be grueling. On our first attempt, we carried way more than we needed, and our packs were probably closer to 75 pounds.

So you spend the first day hiking to Camp Muir and getting camp set up. Depending on the weekend, you may find hundreds of climbers camping there. We spent most of the second day just melting water, as we used all we had on the hike up the day before. We turned in early (but couldn’t sleep), then got up in time to hit the trail before midnight. We left camp at 11:30 and were on the summit by 7:30 in the morning. That’s an 8-hour hike. Again, it was 5,000 vertical feet, but this time in only two and a half miles. We spent about half an hour on the summit, then spent about three and a half hours walking back to camp. The snow conditions were the reason we ascended in the dark – you want the snow to be firm. By the time we started down, the top few inches of snow were slushy and occasionally balled up under our crampons…that can make the descent much more dangerous than the ascent.

We could have hiked down after breaking camp, but we were too tired, so we stayed another night and hiked down the next day. It’s much easier going down, of course, but it’s still 5 miles of travel on a snow field so it took several hours to hike down to the car.

So, getting back to the subject of food…we could have gotten by with three days of food (or even stretched two days of food). But (and this is a big but), what if you’re delayed? Rainier’s weather can change in a heartbeat. We could have left Paradise with a forecast of sun, and been plunged into a blizzard the next day. So you might want to take more food then you think you might actually use, just on the off chance that you are up there longer than planned. We had a mix of dehydrated foods and regular camping fare, including a couple of the Army Meals-Ready-To-Eat (called MRE’s).

This sounds like a lot of work just to bag another 14,000 foot peak. After all, only three of the Colorado peaks require that much time, and that’s only because you have to take a narrow-gauge train to the trail head, then walk another 6-8 miles to camp. And if your only experience is the relatively benign Colorado peaks, Rainier will come as a shock to you. Fortunately, by then several of us had over 15 years experience climbing vertical ice and winter peaks, so Rainier wasn’t as difficult as we were lead to believe by the park rangers.

Rainier was the kind of adventure that doesn’t seem fun at the time, but in hindsight was an awesome climb. Parts of it are scary as hell, other parts just tedious. Our scariest moment came pretty early on when we had to traverse an aluminum ladder about 12 feet across a very deep crevasse…you have to look down to see where to place your feet, but you try not to focus on the inky depths below your feet. At the time I swore I would never climb a peak like that again, however, I’ve since reconsidered and would be willing to climb Rainier again, or Adams, or Baker, or Hood, and I’ve even thought about climbing the Mexican volcanoes.

For more details and some excellent photos, visit my main web site at LogicSmith.