Footwear: Go Light, Go Longer.

With the amount and variety of hiking gear available, sometimes choosing the right equipment can be a daunting task. We spend countless hours on the web comparing gear and prices, and reading reviews to find the perfect pack or sleeping bag or shelter. The options are limitless. Do we want an internal or external framed pack? Do we need a frame at all? What size? How many liters? What about a shelter? Should I buy a freestanding double-walled tent, or go with something lighter I have to stake out like a tarp? Do I need the footprint? What about bivy sacks and hammocks? I need a sleeping bag too. Should I buy down or synthetic? What about the temperature rating? Does it need to be water resistant? Should I get a quilt instead? 

The questions are many, and finding the answer that works for you can take a ton of research. 

When it comes to footwear however, that process is often times ignored. We already know what footwear we need, no doubt imbedded into our sub-consciousness from years on the trail… 

We need boots. Heavy high-topped leather boots with great traction, ankle support, and a Gortex membrane to keep our feet dry. Since we already know we need boots, buying them is much simpler. We walk into the outfitter and try some on. We pace around the shoe department and maybe make a few laps up and down the stairs. When one pair stands out above the rest as the most comfortable (or least uncomfortable), we fork over a couple hundred bucks and walk out the door. Done deal right? 

Not so much. 

Our feet hurt, and blisters are forming on our heels and toes. Instead of admitting defeat in our choice of footwear, we spend more time and money treating the symptoms. We buy expensive insoles. We use sock-liners, or better yet we double-up on heavy merino-wool socks. We apply moleskin at the start of the hike in the spots we’re blister prone. We take our boots off on breaks, and sometimes even stop mid-hike to change socks. We carry an extra pair of shoes so we can ditch the boots the moment we reach camp because our feet are screaming. In extreme cases we might take our boots back to the outfitter… and exchange them for other boots. I’ve seen it. I’ve done it. I’ve been there. 

This is the way of the hiker; blisters, foot pain, and miserably sweaty feet… But it doesn’t have to be. There exists an effective yet simple alternative... 

Shoes. More and more, hiking shoes and trail runners are replacing boots as the footwear of choice for hikers. 

Most of the time when choosing new gear, weight is a prime consideration (if not, it should be). Even though our backpack is designed to carry 50 pounds, that doesn’t mean we want it to. We are all acutely aware of the pain inducing affects a heavy pack can have on the body… But what if I told you that weight on the feet is actually worse for you than weight on the back? You’ve probably heard the adage that 1 pound on your foot can equal 5 on your back. Well, in terms of energy expenditure, it’s basically true. A US Army study concluded that walking with one pound on the foot expends the same amount of energy as carrying 6 pounds on the back. When you realize that boots can weigh 2, 3, or even 4 pounds, that’s a ton of energy your body is needlessly burning with every step, and fatigue will come much quicker. In The Backpackers Handbook world re-known long distance hiker Chris Townsend writes, “That lighter footwear is less tiring seems indisputable.” 

Shoes aren’t only lighter, they are more comfortable. Thinner synthetic construction and an abundance of mesh ensure good airflow, reducing moisture and the chance of blistering. Flexible soles give your feet the freedom to move naturally, instead of being stuck in the same position for miles on end. The result is that your feet are comfortable longer, making those long hikes more doable than you ever thought. Again, Townsend writes that heavy boots, “make my feet ache after about 12 miles, and after 15 miles all I want to do is stop. Yet in running shoes I can cover twice the distance before my feet complain.” I had a similar experience. On a 12 mile day, hiking fast to beat the darkness, my feet were killing me in my boots. Every step was agony. The pain was so bad I just wanted to quit. I bought a pair of trail runners the next week. Later that summer on a 50 mile mountain trek in central Idaho I hiked faster, with no pain or blisters, all while carrying a much heavier load. I was sold. 

In my experience, the most common reason people say they prefer boots is the need for ankle support. It stands to reason that the rigid boot construction would provide more stability for the foot, and minimize the risk of ankle injury. I however have noticed a dramatic decrease in the amount of ankle problems since I switched to shoes. This is because I step more carefully in shoes, knowing my feet are potentially more vulnerable to slipping, sharp rocks, and other trail hazards. Indeed, it is this lack of protection that is the real trade-off. 

It all comes down to personal preference, and what your specific needs are on a given trip. I find boots still my footwear of choice hiking in snow, or multiple days of rain. The prevailing theory among shoe enthusiasts is that trail runners dry so quickly that getting them (and by default your feet) wet is not something to avoid, which is fine for a stream crossing on a sunny day, but if the forecast for your weekend trip is calling for non-stop rain, then you probably don’t want to spend that time with soaked feet. Like with any gear purchase, do your homework. There are many options between trail runners and heavy leather boots. Brands like Merrell, Keen, and Salomon offer shoes with the benefits of both: low-profile, synthetic materials, plenty of mesh, Vibram soles, and even Gortex. Again, do your research. There are tons of resources online, and lots of great books written by people with thousands of trail miles under their belts. Before you buy don’t forget to stop at your local outfitter and try some on. Pace around the shoe department, and maybe make a few laps up and down the stairs…

This article was modified from a story published a few years ago on the now defunct Mountain Blog. All the work is mine.

Top 5 Most Extreme Ultralight Backpacking Tips

I heard a story once about a first-time backpacker whose load was so heavy he began ditching his gear in the woods not even a mile in from the trail-head. He threw out his frying pan (but kept the pot), a lawn chair, a pint of Jim Beam (he took a drink first), a 15 million candle-power spotlight, and a field guide to flora and fauna of the Pacific Northwest (hardback of course). He learned the hard way what all of us experienced backpackers already know: carrying a heavy pack sucks. 

Many backpackers (including myself) have endeavored tirelessly to lighten the load, to ease the burden on our weary bones as we burn through the miles. One of the best ways to lighten up is to swap out your backpack, shelter and sleeping system (collectively known as “The Big 3”) for lighter counterparts. The problem is, good gear is expensive, and it seems the less an item weighs, the more it costs. Consider Hyperlight Mountain Gear’s Ultimade 2 pyramid tent. Made of Cuben Fiber, it only weighs 19 ounces, but costs a whopping $715.0... Yikes! 

In lieu of spending your entire savings account replacing the Big 3, there are other, shall we say, more unorthodox methods of getting that pack weight down. In my attempt to go lighter I have run across some strange stuff that people will do to shave ounces, (because as we all know; ounces equal pounds, and pounds equal pain!). I'm not referring to the more commonly known techniques like cutting the handle off your toothbrush or removing the backpack lid. I'm talking radical, cutting edge stuff so extreme that I don’t have the courage to try them out myself. I don't have the time or the space to list them all here, so I've decided to just present the top 5. Remember, I don't endorse these techniques, I'm just passing along the information strictly for informational (entertainment) purposes. 

Go Stoveless – I met a guy last year who thru-hiked The Arizona Trail without a stove. He ate cold dinners, and never enjoyed a morning cup of coffee. I know, it sounds terrible, but on a long-distance hike you could save some serious ounces by leaving your camp kitchen behind. On an overnighter however, you won’t have any reason to get up in the morning.

Don't Treat Water – No filter, no chemicals, no problem… right? This movement is picking up steam within the cult-of-ultralight. The theory goes that with experience you should be able to distinguish safe from unsafe water sources. While leaving your water treatment devices at home can potentially shave a few ounces (2 with the popular Sawyer Mini), is contracting the dreaded Beaver Fever really worth it?

Swap the Knife for a Razor – Apparently some gram weenies out there actually think a razor-blade is not only a perfectly good substitute for a knife (shhh, don’t tell Dave Canterbury), but “the ultimate in ultralight backpacking knives,” as one blogger put it. When I'm in the woods, I like to imagine myself as the second coming of Daniel Boone, so for me, not carrying a knife just doesn’t cut it.

Trim Your Zippers – An old backpacking buddy of mine (who shall remain nameless) told me once that to shave weight from his pack he trimmed all the pull tabs from the zippers on his gear. Now, I've heard of trimming the straps off you pack, or cutting the tags off your clothes, but cutting the pull tabs off your zippers? How much weight will that actually save? Needless to say, he had a tough time getting in and out of his tent.

Don't Bother with Toilet Paper – I found this gem in Mike Clelland's book “Ultralight Backpacking Tips”. The book is loaded with useful information for backpackers trying to go light, but when I came to tip number 116, I did a double take. “Liberate Yourself From Toilet Paper” the tip reads. Instead of TP, he recommends wiping your hind quarters with snow, leaves, pine-cones, sticks, and even rocks. I haven't tried any of these advanced ultralight techniques yet, but I will say that if you leave the toilet paper at home, lightening your load will be more important than ever.

This article is my original work. It was adapted from a piece I did on the now defunct The Mountain Blog called "Do What with a Rock". 

Todd Lake Winter Backpacking

Off the snowshoe route.

 It's strange, but once upon a time I considered winter the off season. No kidding. Back in the day when I was a Spokane local, the thought of backpacking in the snow never even occurred to me. In Arizona, the winter time was desert time. Down there I backpacked year round. Now that I'm in Bend backpacking year round would require a new set of gear and present a new set of challenges, which I would gladly take in lieu of an off season.

 Appropriately prepared with a winter kit, we set off for a local summer hot spot, Todd Lake. This lake, in summer, is always packed. Its parking lot choked with Subarus and Tacomas. A conveyor belt of hikers circling round and round the shoreline. Camping is not allowed in summer. However in winter, the lake is unreachable by automobile due to the closed mountain road. The hike is only a 3-mile jaunt through groomed snowshoe trails. It seemed like a logical first foray into the winter wilds of central Oregon.

Dutchman Flats

The trail-head at Dutchman Flats was near capacity when we arrived at eight on Saturday morning. An unfortunate consequence of being the only snow park in the region with snow. City of Bend, population 90,000. All vying for a parking spot at Dutchman Flats. We set out under a clear blue sky anticipating the sun's appearance over the mountains. The only detraction the constant drone of snow machines. But not a drone as much as a wail. A rising and falling of machine noise. Constant crooning and cranking of so many machines.... In the woods.

In the woods the motors were less noticeable as we left the flats behind. Or maybe we had become used to them by then. The trail lost, we veered off the path navigating by common sense. The lake is that way. We most go that way. The forest became a pitter-patter orchestra by then. The sun melting the snow off the legion of conifers. A conifer concerto if you will.

What is Nate looking at?

 Todd Lake was ice. A cloud hovered just over the surface giving it a dream like appearance. The kind of dream you wake up and try to remember, but only recall bits and pieces. We walked over the ice along the edge toward Broken Top mountain and a suitable camp spot. We nestled in the trees near some streams flowing into the lake from distant mountain tops. The weather was perfect. The scenery amazing. The kind you see on postcards. Some skiers and hikers looped the lake, but otherwise traffic was minimal. No one bothered us save the buzzing of snowmobiles in the distance, and the reek of gasoline. Our constant companion. A constant annoyance. 

The jays were worse. Swooping down from the tree tops to snatch any edible bit left unattended. I've seen people feeding birds from their hands here before. When I've scolded people for doing so I've always been treated like I'm making a big deal out of something small. But it isn't small. Birds stealing your food. Nibbling on your gear. Unafraid of people. It's a big deal because birds, like all animals, naturally have a fear of man. Birds, like other animals, have evolved to feed themselves. Very efficiently I might add or their line would have ended long ago. Feeding birds and other animals is, simply put, unnatural. Some unnatural things we just shouldn't tolerate. Snowmobiles we can live with, because men love machines (it makes them feel manly). But animals need to feed themselves. By feeding them you are harming both the animal and any humans it will encounter in the future

Frozen Todd Lake with Bachelor in the background.

 We lit a fire on the snow and spent the evening watching it slowly sink through the layers. The jays had long ago fled to deeper reaches of the forest after I convincingly won a snowball war I waged on them (to be fair, their offense wasn't much, but boy could they juke a snowball). We made a bench where we watched the sunset. We were warm and content. We slept well. Probably one of the best night's sleep I've ever had while backpacking.

Grey Jay

Fire making

Dinner

We awoke to the distant buzzing of snowmobiles at first light. We ignored their obnoxious overtures and began the morning routine. The hike back was much faster because we managed to stay on the trail. I think I'll go back. Not to Todd Lake, but further in, where hopefully I can leave the snow machines and spoiled birds behind. That said, I couldn't have asked for a better time.

Three Sisters Wilderness: Lucky Lake

View of Lucky Lake as the trail intersects the lake.

 Lucky Lake is a beautiful mountain lake with great views of South Sister and Broken Top mountains, and it's easy to get to. In fact, the hike is just over a mile, and relatively flat the entire way. I hiked in on a weekday, looking for a quick getaway, and hopefully some fishing. The lake isn't as popular as many Three Sisters Wilderness destinations despite its beauty. Because of this (or maybe the hordes of mosquitoes) I had the lake to myself.

Camp, pre bug net.

 Campsites are concentrated on the south side of the lake. I chose the flattest spot with the best views and pitched my tarp. I was using for the first time a bug net/tarp combination. The net stops at the ground and does not have a floor. I was a bit nervous about its effectiveness pitching it in the midst of clouds of mosquitoes. But it worked great. I slept soundly, and no flying blood-suckers got in.

Why is my rod on the ground and not in my hand?

 Fishing didn't go so well. Lucky Lake's waters are crystal clear, and I didn't see a single fish of any size either in the water near shore or rising to the surface in deeper parts of the lake. I doubted that any fish were even in the lake despite what I had read online. Regardless, I spent most of the day circling the lake looking for fish and throwing out a fly absent sign of any. It basically became a day-long casting practice session. Lucky Lake isn't a very easy lake to fly fish anyway. Beaches are basically non-existent. In most places, trees grow right to the water's edge. Backcasting is nearly impossible without wading.

 Later that night I heard something big splashing in the water. From the water's edge near my camp I could see a big brown animal frolicking in the water across the lake. I couldn't tell what it was, and I kicked myself for not bringing my binoculars.

A serene morning on the lake.

After a good night's sleep, I awoke to a very quiet, peaceful lake. The water was completely still and the mountains glowed, spotlighted in the rising sun's rays. It's these moments that draw me to the woods. It's these moments that I sit up at night at home in bed thinking about.

Budget Gear Review: Kangaroo Outdoors Rocky Mountain Trekker

Rocky Mountain Trekker in the wilderness

The Dirt:

Kangaroo Outdoors Rocky Mountain Trekker 

What is it? Mummy style backpacking sleeping bag.

Comes with: Sleeping bag, compression stuff sack.

Weight: 3.1 pounds (in stuff sack)

Temp Rating: 32 degrees Fahrenheit

EN Rating: No

Materials: Rip-stop nylon

Insulation: Synthetic
.

Price: 36.77 on Amazon

The Rocky Mountain Trekker is a budget friendly lightweight mummy bag for 3-season backpacking. I was contacted by someone from Kangaroo Outdoors to write this review, and I have to say that Kangaroo Outdoors, the company, is a bit of a mystery. They don't have a website, and as far as I can tell, the only product they make is this sleeping bag. Regardless, the product description on Amazon assures us that "Kangaroo Outdoors is committed to bringing you only the highest quality outdoor gear. We design and test all of our items in the high Rockies of Colorado." Due to the lack of information on Kangaroo Outdoors and the Rocky Mountain Trekker online, this review will be entirely what I've observed through use.

Pulling it from the box, the first thing I notice is the size. In the provided compression sack, it packs pretty small. Without the compression sack however, it's bulky. In fact, I had trouble stuffing it in a 50 liter backpack on a recent outing. The weight isn't bad either.... for the price. Granted, today's higher end 30-degree down bags barely bust the 1 pound mark, but they are hundreds of dollars. At around 40 bucks, 3 pounds is pretty damn good, and certainly an acceptable weight for most weekend backpackers. On short trips, the weight is barely noticeable. And that's really what the Rocky Mountain Trekker is for, short trips for casual backpackers who don't want to break the bank.

The concern with buying a budget bag is always materials and craftsmanship. Kangaroo Outdoors lists the bag material as rip-stop nylon, but doesn't list a grade. Insulation type is synthetic, but doesn't say what kind. The truth is that the materials make it feel like a forty dollar sleeping bag. But it performs. On multiple backpacking trips when the temperature flirted with freezing, I always stayed warm. Granted, I was wearing baselayers and using a bag liner, but I always do, even with my Marmot and Nemo bags. On breezy, chilly, rainy nights, The Rocky Mountain Trekker continued to surprise me. Even when a chill crept in, I was able to cinch the hood and draft tubes to effectively trap my heat in. This bag does not have a European Norm rating, but the claimed 32 degree comfort rating seems pretty darn accurate.

Rocky Mountain Trekker

Like budget bags I've owned in the past, the biggest problem I had was the zipper. It didn't completely burst open like my last budget bag did, but I fought with it in the night, every night. For starters, snagging was an issue. I found completely zipping up the bag was a challenge and a chore. Even more annoying was the tendency for the zipper to unzip itself during the night. Strangely, pressure on the underside of the zipper would cause it retract. As a result, unless I had the zipper completely up and secured with the Velcro strap, it would retract during the night and I would wake up exposed. 

Overall, The Rocky Mountain Trekker is a solid 3-season bag with an affordable price tag. I would recommend it for new backpackers or anyone who can't afford a name-brand bag. For the experienced or constant backpacker, I would give it a look only if money is a serious concern for you. Otherwise, it would make a good loaner or backup. Durability may be an issue. After all, I don't know anything about materials or manufacturing. I couldn't find any warranty information from Kangaroo Outdoors either. But then again. it's only a 40 dollar bag.

Disclaimer: I was given this sleeping bag for the purposes of a review by Kangaroo Outdoors at no cost to myself. The opinions and conclusions reached are strictly my own.

Budget Gear Review: Etekcity Backpacking Stove

Etekcity Backpacking stove at Mt. Lemmon, AZ

The Dirt:

Etekcity Backpacking Sove

What is it? Canister style backpacking stove

Fuel Type: Isopro

Comes with: Stove, plastic case, attached Piezo ignition

Weight: 4.8 oz.

Size: 3.5 X 1.8 X 2.3 inches

Materials: Stainless steel and aluminum

Price: 9.99 at Amazon

The Etekcity Backpacking stove is a lightweight canister stove that sells for a ridiculously low price on Amazon. In fact, that's why I'm writing this review... Let me explain. Just over a year ago, a customer came to my store looking for a backpacking stove. After I gave him a brief explanation of the stoves we carry and the differences between them, I recommended the MSR PocketRocket. He stared at the price-tag looking perturbed for a moment, then looked at me quizzically and asked, "Why should I spend $40 on this stove when I can get one on Amazon for $10?" I didn't know how to respond at the time since I had no idea which stove he was talking about. Instead I just mumbled something about brand name, materials and construction. Feeling ignorant and unprepared, I went home that night, and in the Amazon search bar typed, "ten dollar backpacking stove," and promptly purchased the first stove on the list, the Etekcity Backpacking Stove. I would have an answer the next time a customer asked me that question.

Palm of my hand

Out of the box, the first thing that struck me was the size. Indeed, the Etekcity stove is smaller than the vast majority of canister stoves on the market. Credit the stowable pot support arms that fold down and swivel around the stove to stack on top of each other like a deck of cards. It makes for a small, very portable package. The drawback with that portability is all those joints and swivels add weight. 4.8 ounces (believe it or not) is heavier than most name brand stoves in the same class. But for ten bucks, who can complain about an ounce or two? 

The biggest problem I have with stowable arms is durability. Simply put, the more complex the device, the larger the chance the device will fail. In fact, the first time I used the stove one of the arms jammed. I couldn't get it folded without a lot of force, which, in freezing temps hurt my fingers like a SOB. It turned out that the upper portion of one of the arms bent, which prevented it from folding along the joint. It's not just the arms either. This stove feels fragile. Arms bend too easy. The Piezo ignition switch feels like it's barely on. Luckily it comes with a case. You'll need it to protect the stove while backpacking.

Top of the arms fold in to make for easy stowing.

In ideal conditions the Etekcity stove performs as well as any canister stove in its class. On warm days with no wind It routinely made 3 minute boil times. When conditions aren't ideal however is when this stove really falls short. Usually I don't put too much credence in boil times. I often ask people "what's the hurry?" There are instances however where getting an early start is imperative, and in such cases a fast boil time is important. Case in point: Last winter hunting in the Sonoran desert. I brought the Etekcity stove, and my mate brought an MSR PocketRocket. We were up every morning before light, and literally everyday we had to wait on my stove to boil water. It was frustrating for both of us. In near freezing temps with a bit of wind it took my stove three times longer to boil water for coffee then his PocketRocket. Let me tell you, waiting 15 minutes for a cup of coffee at 5:30 in the morning, for five days straight, sucked.

It's important that your backpacking stove is reliable. It needs to work, even on a shitty day. It needs to work when it's dirty and wet. Testing the Etekcity stove in my backyard one day, I discovered that it had gotten wet from being left outside under a tree dripping water from melting snow. Although entirely accidental, I thought it would be a perfect time to fire the stove up, because after all, sometimes in the field stuff gets wet. The full results of the test are in the video below, but in a nutshell, the stove failed miserably. The stove was totally fouled by water to the point that fuel would not reach the burner. The water wouldn't drain. It took me around an hour to finally get the stove working, and even then the Piezo ignition switch was worthless. Just for comparison purposes, I left my PocketRocket in the same place, for the same amount of time. Although just as wet, the PocketRocket fired up immediately.

In this case you get what you pay for. After a year with the Etekcity stove my conclusion is that it is not reliable or durable. Frankly, I'm not sure it would survive a season of regular use backpacking. After the poor performance my first trip out with it, I was too scared to take it backpacking. Yes, in ideal conditions it boils with the best of them. If you only backpack short trips in sunny weather and you're flat broke, then maybe consider the Etekcity Backpacking Stove. If you buy it, rip the Piezo ignition switch off and save yourself a little weight and a lot of future headaches. Everyone else, spend a few more dollars and buy something actually made for the outdoors.

Three Sisters Wilderness: Doris Lake

Fishing didn't go so well.

I finally got out for my first Oregon backpacking adventure. Since Bend is still so new to me, I didn't quite know where to go. In the Three Sisters Wilderness, everyone says Green Lakes is the place to be. Since I did Green Lakes as a dayhike, I wasn't really interested in going back. Mainly I wanted to avoid the crowds that I knew would be clogging up the trails. After studying a map, I settled on Doris Lake instead. It's an easy hike, and the fishing was supposed to be decent. 

The hike in was as easy as advertised, and mostly in the shade of the big evergreens. After recreating  in the desert for so long I almost felt claustrophobic among so many trees. Line of sight is a fraction of what I usually had in the desert, We passed a few groups hiking out, either complaining about mosquitoes or wearing headnets. I knew we were in for a treat.

After making camp near the lake I tried my luck fishing. I love fishing, but I've decided that I'm not very good at it. I threw out an orange Panther Martin (recommended to me by the fishing guy in Sportsman's Warehouse) and spent the next couple of hours reeling in... an orange Panther Martin. The beach nearest my tent was infested by big red ants which literally bit the hell out of my feet every chance they got. Literally, every time I stepped down, all ants within a foot radius would immediately charge my foot like a platoon of gung-ho marines. If I moved my foot they would chase it. Those little bastards were aggressive as hell. But the scenery was nice and the water was perfect, so I gave up fishing and went for a swim instead. The ants didn't follow me in.

Video: Starting a fire with Old Man's Beard

Late afternoon the mosquitos were swarming. I was covered head-to-toe in protection, but they were chewing up my dog Rocco. I started a fire early, deciding to turn-in when the sun set, I sat by the fire sipping some Irish whiskey and watching. The trees were covered in Old Man's Beard and the setting sun turned everything green. As far as I knew, Rocco and I had the lake to ourselves. I didn't see or hear another soul.

Doris Lake camp

Grand Canyon: Corridor Trails - Phantom Ranch to Indian Gardens and Out.

Leaving Bright Angel Camp

Another world exists at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. I've never felt so wild as I did in that place, despite the people. It's the place that does it too. The canyon itself. Its unfathomable enormity. Its abysmal depths. You recognize it from the top, but you don't feel it until you reach the bottom, and look back in wonderment at where you came from. The only way out is up. Way up. Nearly 5000 feet through some of the most rugged landscape on earth. Leaving Bright Angel camp on day four was bittersweet. The prospect of exploring new country is thrilling, but the planned climb to Indian Gardens meant that our trip was nearing an end.

Following the Colorado River

The Colorado River stokes my imagination more than an other river I've seen. Paralleling its banks, I imagined what it would have been like for the early river runners. Imagine running the Colorado through the canyon without any notion at all of what would be around the next bend. Talk about a heart pounder! Leaving the river we came to a seesaw of steep switchbacks as we climbed higher and higher. We passed a mule train of tourists bound for Phantom. We passed a group of foreigners attempting a rim-to-river-to-rim in one day. It's a feat that the park service highly discourages. They weren't wearing backpacks, and each carried a plastic water bottle in their hand. We warned them about the heat and lack of water. To us backpackers they seemed ill-prepared for such an undertaking. Of course, they didn't speak a lick of english and just looked at us with smiles on their faces as we warned them to turn back. "Ok" they said, nodding up and down and grinning foolishly. They kept going.

Sawteeth

Flattening out on the approach to Indian Gardens

The terrain flattened as we approached Indian Gardens. Cottonwood trees and shade appeared. So did the mule deer. We saw them everywhere. On the trail. Near the trail. Lots of does, but not a single buck. As a bow hunter, I was struck by the differences of this game animal's behavior within the boundaries of the park, and deer I encounter elsewhere. We passed within a couple feet from some feeding trailside, and they never spooked.

Mule deer at Indian Gardens

Indian Gardens turned out to be my favorite camp site. It certainly had the best views. We had the place to ourselves (more or less), and were treated to an amazing sunset. From Indian Gardens at night, you can see lights from the buildings on the south rim. The deer were everywhere at camp too. They fed all around us without a care in the world.

First snow

Next morning we got an early start and climbed out of the canyon. The snow and ice were still present near the top, so we again had to don microspikes. As we neared the rim the amount of day hikers increased dramatically. We saw tourists in dress shoes hiking across ice on narrow trails that, if you slipped, could result in falls of hundreds of feet. Their nonchalant attitudes made it appear as if they had no idea they were courting death. 

The rim in sight,

Almost out,

I'm afraid now that this will be my last Grand Canyon adventure ever. I have a four day backpack in Paria Canyon on the horizon, and after that I will be relocating to Bend, Oregon. I'm excited to have a new state to explore, but I'll sure miss the desert.

Grand Canyon: Corridor Trails - Phantom Ranch to Cottonwood Camp & Ribbon Falls

Phantom Ranch is a funny place. In the middle of seemingly nowhere, at the bottom of an inconceivably huge canyon lies this little slice of civilization. There are a smattering of buildings; lodges for the ecotourist, cabins for park rangers and other staff, and of course, Phantom Ranch itself, which is more or less a cantina. We awoke on day two to the thunder of power tools and earth movers shattering that tranquil sound of the awakening desert. I wondered how the small bulldozer got there, since the only way in is by foot, boat or beast of burden. I supposed it could have came by boat, or maybe lowered by helicopter. I hung my soaked sleeping bag on a bear hang pole (see previous post) and took care of my camp. We watched the masses depart during breakfast, leaving Phantom for destination's unknown. It didn't really feel like backpacking in that place. Too many people. Too many amenities. 

Ellen in "The Box".

 After a late start we left Phantom enroute to Cottonwood Camp below the north rim. Soon after departure, we entered an area on the North Kaibab Trail called "The Box". The Box is a narrow canyon flanked by towering vertical cliffs. It is notorious for being an inferno in the summer months, although in winter it was chilly since the giant rock walls prevent the sun from reaching the bottom most of the day. To me it felt like a slot canyon. The danger of falling rocks weighed on my mind the entire way through. Especially after seeing rocks fall on the adjacent wall across the creek, and climbing over various rock piles that blocked the trail as we hiked through. 

On the North Kaibab Trail

 Eventually the Box opened up to sunshine and views of the snow-covered north rim. The experience was quite different than the day before because we barely saw anyone. I think we encountered only one other hiker in the Box. Between the Box and Cottonwood Camp we ran into a group of three researchers who were studying the health of native fish in Bright Angel Creek. They actually lived down there during the winter. What a sweet gig!

Climbing to Cottonwood Camp

 We made camp in a huge group site under some cottonwoods in an otherwise empty Cottonwood Camp. Luckily my sleeping bag was completely dry. Determined to stay dry and warm, I stuffed my pad inside the bivy, thinking that by sleeping on instead of in it, I could still benefit from the heat reflecting properties and not wake up drenched. I was soon lulled to sleep by the pleasing sound of the creek and a slight breeze.

Heading south on North Kaibab. 

 Day 3 began with the silence and solitude one would expect from a backcountry locale in an immense wilderness like the Grand Canyon. Our plan was to return to Phantom Ranch through the Box, with a detour at Ribbon Falls. Ribbon Falls reminded me a lot of Leona Falls in the Cascades, except that in the Cascades, I had Leona Falls to myself. There were probably 20 or more people milling about Ribbon Falls when we arrived, and more arriving by the minute. Again I marveled at the amount of people so deep in the backcountry. It's a sight I had never seen before. No doubt the mule trains from the south rim, and the guide services running the river bring people to this area that wouldn't normally be here. And it's cool. I'm not complaining. If I couldn't do it myself, I would probably ride a mule too. 

From behind Ribbon Falls

We reached Phantom Ranch in time to see a large herd of mule deer milling about Bright Angel Creek. The sun was setting and I just stood and watched them as long as I could. Watching animals in the wild is always such an amazing experience. It's like a window to a new world and new relationships that few people really get to see. I wondered: Where did they come from? Where are they going? Who is the leader? How many have died this year so far? Are any pregnant? Did they get cold at night? No matter how tough we humans think we are, we ain't shit compared to a wild animal, who every night sleeps in the dirt and the mud. Who has to find food and water. Who has to walk everywhere they go. Who has to constantly be on alert for other animals that want to take what they have. As it turns out, this would not be our only encounter with mule-deer on this trip... to be continued.

Grand Canyon: Corridor Trails - South Kaibab to Phantom Ranch

The Grand Canyon is incredible. Its enormity inconceivable. Like my last Grand Canyon adventure, I stood on the south rim beholding the great expanse and thought "I can't believe I'm going in there." Over the years I've read plenty of creative adjectives by outdoor writers trying to describe the majesty of a place. The Grand Canyon is the one place where all adjectives fall short, yet every adjective used to describe it is true. 

Descending South Kaibab

We got an early start. The bus that left the backcountry office at 7 am was packed full of tourists. At the trailhead we donned microspikes while a cow elk fed in some junipers not 20 yards away. The trail was a mix of snow and ice, so the microspikes were a must. The Grand Canyon is not a place you want to fall. The views were spectacular from the start. Especially up high, as both rims were covered in snow. The Canyon can spoil a hiker with views real quick. Huge monolithic rock formations and giant cliffs everywhere you look. 

Leaving the snow behind.

This hike was very different then my previous trip on the Royal Arch loop. In Royal Arch we saw perhaps five people in five days of hiking. On the South Kaibab we saw several dozen on the first day alone. Apparently the traffic is even thicker during the shoulder seasons. We passed guided tours, day hikers, pack trains of mules, trail runners, rangers, and even maintenance crews working on the trail.

By the time we reached the river (and 4860 ft lower than we started) the crowds had thinned out and we were ready to camp. Our permit was for Bright Angel campground, which is just up the trail from Phantom Ranch. We managed to drop our packs and run into Phantom Ranch for a couple beers before the 4:30 closing time. It's weird to see so much civilization at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and although I had mixed feelings about it, I sure enjoyed the ice cold beers after a long day of hiking.

First good look at the Colorado River

Our camp spot was tiny so we pitched our tents practically on top of eachother. Instead of a tent, I was using my tarp. I had been concerned about being cold at night since all I had was a 30 degree bag, and the temps were supposed to dip into the mid-20's, so I had brought a bivy to pair with my bag and sleeping bag liner. I went to bed with all my clothes on and had a restless night's sleep. Not only was bag not warm enough but the pad I used had a low R-Value and I could literally feel the cold seeping through the pad at night. When I finally crawled out of bed around 9 am the next morning, my down sleeping bag was soaking wet from condensation. I knew that condensation would be an issue with the bivy, but I didn't realize just how bad it would actually be... To be continued.

Our camp at Bright Angel Camp

Bright Angel Creek

Destination: Superstition Mountains

Superstition Wilderness. Weavers Needle in the distance.

Arizona’s aptly named Superstition Mountains conjures up more tales of woe and images of yesteryear than any locale west of the Mississippi. It is a place mired in myth and legend… and history. In ancient times, the Hohokam and Salado peoples eked out a living in this desolate landscape, leaving behind haunting ruins carved from cliff walls, and impressive petroglyphs depicting the many desert animals that roam these mountains. During the “old west”, the few who settled here lived a harsh existence. Homesteaders like Elisha “Old Hermit” Reavis farmed and hunted in the eastern Superstitions until his body was found “half eaten by coyotes” in 1896. The Superstation’s real claim to fame however is the tale of the Lost Dutchman’s gold mine. Every year fortune seekers venture into the Superstitions hunting for the lost gold mine, and many have died in the desert sun, thirsty and hot… and broke.

The Superstitions (or “The Supes” as the locals say) isn’t just a great place to explore the past, it’s a great place to explore. From jagged volcanic peaks to haunted canyons, to the myriad of flora and fauna, the Supes have something for everyone, and at less than an hour drive from Phoenix, is easily accessible.

Superstition Mountain in Lost Dutchman State Park

Camping

Check out Lost Dutchman State Park for easy car camping in classic Sonoran Desert terrain. Lots of big Saguaros at lower elevations. Trails from the campground provide easy access to the tallest peak in the range, Superstition Mountain (5059’). Feeling ambitious? Take the Siphon Draw Trail all the way to the Flatiron on top of Superstition Mountain. This ball-buster goes straight up the mountain, gaining nearly 3,000 feet in 2.5 miles, so you better be in shape. Much of the route is a scramble so expect to use your hands. The payoff? A jaw dropping 360 degree view of the Sonoran Desert. Feeling adventurous? Bring a tent and camp at the top.

Backpacking

The Superstition Wilderness boasts over 170 miles of trail within its 160,200 acres. With all that space, the Supes cater to a variety of experience levels. Want to explore the past? Overnight in a canyon near ancient cliff dwellings in Angel Basin, or sleep in the shade of apple trees after you explore the ruins of Reavis Ranch. Feeling ambitious? See them both on a 3-day 24-mile loop starting at Rogers Canyon Trail. Be sure to have a high clearance vehicle as the 17 mile boulder-strewn forest road to the trailhead is not maintained, and can be impassable after rain. Be sure not to disturb any historical sites and leave any artifacts you find alone.

Rock Climbing

With so many cliff-faces and rock-walls, the Supes is a playground for climbers. Try the iconic Weaver’s Needle. This famous peak plays a key role in the Lost Dutchman legend, as the shadow it casts at a certain time of the day is said to reveal the location of the lost goldmine. The 1,000 foot high rock column is a class 5.6, and will reward you with amazing views of the Superstition wilderness. If you’re looking for more variety, try the 300 foot Bark Canyon Wall. Rockclimbing.com says it offers “some of the best multi-pitch climbing in the Phoenix area.” Just remember, bolting is strictly forbidden within the wilderness.

Backpacking in the Superstitions

Flora and Fauna

Expect to encounter a variety of cacti from the vicious jumping cholla to the iconic giant saguaro. These and other desert plants can make foot travel a challenge, but are beautiful when admired from a distance. Because of the variety of prickly plant life, hike in pants, even when it’s hot. You won’t see many trees except in the eastern Superstitions where cactus meets juniper and ponderosa pine. The area hosts a surprising variety of animal life as well. Expect to encounter several lizard species on the trail. If you’re lucky you might see a desert tarantula, which look scary but are very slow moving and therefore easy to admire. Watch out for rattlesnakes and scorpions, especially under rocks or in woodpiles. If you are really lucky you may see a Gila monster. These large lizards are extremely venomous but very slow, so don’t panic. Just take a photo and move on. Javelina are also common. These pig-like peccaries travel in herds but are usually bedded down during the day.

A Word of Caution

Water is extremely scarce in the Superstitions. Be sure to contact the ranger station for the latest water report before any hike. Shade is often hard to come by, so protect yourself from the sun and stay hydrated. Finally, DO NOT attempt to hike and/or backpack in the Superstitions during the summer months. YOU WILL DIE.