Friday, June 12, 2015

Rainbow Rim (Grand Canyon)

I'm really getting behind in my posts. Hopefully I can catch up soon.

Back in June I went with some friends to Kamas with the hopes of doing Buckskin Gulch, one of the longest slot canyons in the world. We had a permit for our entire group, all the equipment we'd need, and two cars to be able to do a shuttle from one end to the other. The only thing we didn't have was clear skies.

The night before we were scheduled to drop into the gulch there was a flash flood. The ranger warned us that there would be knee-deep mud, shoulder-deep nasty pools, and possibly areas that were completely blocked off. Oh, and the road was washed out so we'd have to approach through Arizona.

After much thought and deliberation we determined that the dangers weren't worth the risk and that we'd try again another year. But we still had our backpacks loaded and ready to go so we had to find somewhere equally spectacular. The ranger suggested the Rainbow Rim in North Kaibab National Forest. It sounded like what we were looking for so we loaded back up and headed south to Arizona.

The Kaibab National Forest surrounds Grand Canyon National Park, and has a few areas that actually overlook the canyon. The Rainbow Rim is one of those areas. There are five big "fins" that stick out into the canyon with roads that head out to each one. There's a hiking/biking trail that connects each of the trailheads.

It's very primitive; we drove 40 miles on dirt roads to get there (they were nice dirt roads, though). There were so few people out there it was a little eerie. We hiked along the north rim of the Grand Canyon for 18.5 miles and only saw a handful of other people.

We drove both vehicles to the northernmost trailhead, then loaded everyone up into the truck and drove to the southernmost trailhead 20 miles away.

The hiking was pretty flat, but there were some places where we climbed a few hundred feet at a time. Looking at the map, we realized there would be 2 good places to sleep where we would likely have a great view of the canyon. The first was about 9 miles in and it would have been ideal. There were a few people who had driven in to that point and set up camp, but we could have shared the views. The problem was that 9 miles in would only put us halfway to the end of the trail.

We pushed on to the second area that looked good on the map that was about 12.5 miles in. It was a difficult first day, but it set us up really well for the hike out.
After we had camp set up and ate dinner we wandered around a bit looking for a good place to watch the sun set. We found a particularly perfect spot on a fin sticking about 100 feet out farther into the canyon with 1000' drops on 3 sides. It was amazing to see the light work its way across the formations in the canyon until the sun finally dipped below the horizon.
I was able to hang my hammock about 4' from the rim of the Grand Canyon. I would have been able to look out at the canyon all night but just before bed scattered rain storms came across the canyon (which was cool to see). Even though none of them hit us I figured it would make a lot of sense to put up the tarp just in case.
The next morning we packed up and started on the trail. We only had 6 miles to go to make it to the car and the end of the trail. We didn't stop much, except to take pictures at some amazing overlooks.
We all piled in the car and made the 20 mile drive to the truck back where we started. With about 5 miles left to go it started to hail. It varied between pea-sized and marble-sized, but there was so much of it the road turned into a river of hail. We were involved in what was going to become a flash flood downstream. It kept hailing for 20-30 minutes, during which time some of us had to jump out, grab packs from the trunk, and get in the truck. Fortunately I was driving the car and got to stay dry.
We heading back up the dirt road to Freedonia, then across the border to Kamas, and eventually to Parowan where we parted ways after an amazing adventure. We hiked (according to my GPS) 18.5 miles, climbing a few thousand feet (hard to say for sure), but ending up at the same elevation we started at. This was my first time seeing the Grand Canyon, but I can guarantee it won't be my last.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Pacific Crest Trail - Miles 324-342

For those of you who may not be familiar with the Pacific Crest Trail, it's a trail (unsurprisingly) that roughly follows the Pacific Crest, a chain of mountain ranges in California, Oregon, and Washington. The trail start at the Mexican border and ends at the Canadian border 2668ish miles away. As long as I've known about the trail I've wanted to hike the whole thing, whether in one 5-month epic journey or in the occasional weekend/weeklong trip.

Well, I finally got a chance to do a small part of the trail (about 0.7%). That's a pretty good start, though, right?
Annie won a ticket to a conference being held in California last weekend and things worked out such that we were both able to go. Because of the location of the conference we'd need to pass through Cajon Pass both going and coming back. Cajon Pass is where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses I-15, and there just happens to be a hotel there.

I'd been debating which section of trail to hike; there were a lot of things to consider: it's early in the season so my body may not be up to a long hike, but I had 32 hours to both hike and sleep and I wanted to make the most of it. I'd have to do a certain number of miles the first day to be able to find a suitable camping spot, so I'd have to be sure that the total miles for each day wouldn't be too much, or take too much time given the time constraints I had.
After much deliberation I settled on an 18-mile stretch between PCT Miles 324 and 342 (according to the quasi-official Halfmile maps (that would be starting 324 miles from the Mexican border). I had Annie drop me off on the side of Highway 173 just West of the Cedar Springs Spillway at Silverwood Lake. The weather report (which had been spectacular every day leading up to the day I left) said there would be high winds and a chance of rain. That's the first time I can remember the weather report being so right.

One unique aspect of long distance trails is that people who live near the trails like to do nice things for the hikers, helping them out however they can, often referred to as "trail magic". One common way they do this is by leaving food or water (sometimes ice cold) at places where hikers could use a boost. Not a half mile into my hike I came across my first "trail magic". There was a color with some fruit and bottles of water. There was also a notebook to sign in on; these notebooks act as registers so you can tell who's ahead of you on the trail. As I looked through the pages I noticed that only one person had passed before me that day.
The hiking was pretty easy, even with my heavyish pack. With water it was probably close to 30 pounds. It certainly could have been a lot heavier, but I'm hoping to get it lighter one day, too. Just a couple miles in I ran into a guy coming the other way. He looked like a very seasoned hiker; probably a few years younger than me. He asked if I was a thru-hiker (someone who does the whole trail non-stop in one season). I told him I was just doing a small section, but he still seemed excited to talk to me. He hiked the entire trail in 2014 and was doing certain sections southbound this year to try to run into as many thru hikers as he could. I wanted to ask if he ever worked, but it didn't flow naturally into the conversation. He was a very nice guy, though, and gave me a lot of good information about the miles to come.

The next couple miles followed the West side of Silverwood Lake, meandering around all the inlets, staying at about the same elevation for miles. 4.5 miles from where I started I came across the Cleghorn Picnic area, which looked really nice except for the heavy machinery ripping up the parking lot. I would have stopped anyway, just to check it out, but I knew I had a lot of miles to hike before dark. I didn't want to be setting up camp after the sun went down.
As I passed the picnic area, the trail ducked under Highway 138. As I was crossing past the exit ramp on the far side, trying to find the sign showing me where the trail went, a truck stopped at the intersection across from me. An older man hopped out of the driver's side and yelled across the road to me, "Hey, would you like an ice cold soda?"

That's all the invitation I needed. "I would love one," I replied. He opened up the back door of the truck and started digging through his cooler. In all he gave me a Ginger Ale (first one I've ever had; it was actually very refreshing), a Lunchables tuna pack, and a can of Pineapple juice. He said that he and his wife like to keep things on hand this time of year to give to the hikers as they come through the campground.

He also gave me directions on where I could top off my water supply, and how to rejoin the trail farther up the road. I was amazed at his generosity, even though I was only doing a night out on the trail.
I filled up my water, drank the Ginger Ale (while there were still garbage cans around to put the trash in), and kept hiking up the campground road to meet back up with the PCT. At one point it looked like I should have already passed where the road met the trail so I backtracked a bit looking for the sign, but couldn't find it. Eventually I just decided to keep heading up the road, and it wasn't long before I saw the trail again.

The trail is designed for hikers and horses so the average grade is less than 10% all along the trail (as far as I know). Most of the trails I hike here in Utah have a grade between 15% and 25%, sometimes more, so it was really nice to be on a trail that wasn't too steep. Of course the downside of the shallow grade is the distance. To climb up on top of a ridge the trail would wind around the canyon a couple times; never steeply, but it sometimes felt like I was walking miles to avoid a 25% quarter mile.
The trail eventually made its way out of the canyon with the campground and I was feeling really good. I had already hiked more than 8 miles, nearly half what I'd need to hike to make it to the hotel, and my body was in great shape. My feet didn't hurt, my back felt fine, my legs had all the energy I needed. I didn't expect to be feeling so good so early in the year. Maybe the elevation helped a little, too.

I started down into the next canyon and decided to have a "shoes off" break. I found a nice rock to sit on and took off my shoes and socks so I could check my feet for blisters or hot spots. They were just fine. I ate a Power Bar and took a few minutes to relax before hitting the trail again.

From the preparation I had done, I knew that the trail dropped to the bottom of Little Horsethief Canyon and that there should be good places to camp at the bottom. My goal for the day was to get there. The trail stubbornly stayed near the top of the ridge for miles, though. Finally, about 11.5 miles from where I started, I got to the bottom of the canyon and started looking around for a place to camp.

This year I added a hammock to my backpacking gear. Technically, it's a hammock, straps, a bugnet, and a tarp. All of that still weighs less than my tent, and is so much more comfortable. The only trick is finding a place to string it up. I also brought along a ground tarp to sleep on just in case I couldn't find any suitable trees, but I really wanted to sleep in the hammock.
After nearly a half hour of wandering I came across the only set of trees that would work. It was a really tight area, though, and took some real imagination to get the tarp to fit in between all the other trees. I wouldn't have bothered with the tarp if the weather had been better, but with the high winds and the possibility of rain I didn't want to risk not having protection.

Because the site was so tight I didn't have anywhere to set my stove to cook dinner so I just held it on my lap for the 3 minutes it took for the water to boil (JetBoils are great). Then, while the food rehydrated, I finished setting up camp: inflating my sleeping pad, pulling out the sleeping bag, etc.

I ate dinner, changed clothes, and climbed into the sleeping bag, only to get up another dozen times to adjust the tarp. Some time well after sunset I finally found the right fallen tree branches to attach it to (the ground was too cluttered to use stakes), and I put in my earplugs to drown out the wind and went to sleep. 
The next morning I woke up and checked my work e-mails. Yes, sadly I had cell service and a lot of code at work that had to be checked. I laid in the hammock a bit longer and actually fell asleep again. I had to have slept nearly nine hours. My typical night's sleep is 6.5-7 hours, and drops to 3 when I sleep in a tent. I'm glad I took the extra time to find a hammock site.

It didn't take long to break camp and eat some breakfast. I changed back into my hiking clothes and started back on the trail. Within a mile I felt two nice big fat blisters appear on my feet. It wasn't a surprise, I guess, but it made the last 6 miles difficult.
The trail started getting into areas with a little more human activity. There were some dirt roads with ATVs and motorcycles driving up and down, power lines running overhead, and the regular blowing of a train whistle.  The miles were much more difficult than they were the day before, but I still kept up a good 2.5mi/hr pace.

The wind was ferocious, though. It was blowing in from the South and would hammer the South-facing slopes. The trail moved from one side of the ridge to the other, shielding me from the wind half the time and throwing me to the wolves the other half. Of course, then there were the times when the trail went right on top of the ridge and the wind would blow even harder.

Still, the whole hike I felt very fortunate to be able to be out there, and experienced a few hours of absolute peace. I had no worries or problems except to figure out what I was going to order at the McDonald's restaurant at Cajon Pass.
Just before the trail ducks under I-15 there's a sign showing the distance to Canada: 2296 miles. I be back to finish those miles another day.
Just past that last sign the trail splits.
It was .4 miles to the McDonald's where I ordered a Jalapeno double, a ten pack of McNuggets, a large fry and a drink. Then topped it off later with a McFlurry. Mmm... It was enough food that I even skipped dinner entirely.

It felt really awkward walking into the McDonald's, though. I was the only smelly hiker in there, and felt about 10 feet tall. Everyone was staring at me. It was an odd feeling. After I ordered, though, an older guy came up and introduced himself as a hiker. He was coming from the North and had already spent the night, and was planning to spend the next night as well. He told me all about the conditions for the next 50 miles, what places to be sure to see, where to camp, how the water sources looked. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was done, but he made me feel much less out-of-place while I waited for my food.

I spent about an hour at McDonald's eating and making people feel awkward, then started walking up the street to the hotel. It was a steep road, and my feet were killing me. Just a little past the McD's a guy in a pickup truck beckoned me over. We talked for a bit. He asked if I was a thru hiker and what my plans were. He said he was out there to find hikers and supply them with treats. The entire passenger seat was filled with candy bars, cookies, fruit, etc. He offered me whatever I wanted, but I declined since I was already done hiking. It amazed me that he'd give up his Saturday to go sit by the side of the road hoping to help someone out.

As I limped into the hotel the lady behind the desk offered me the hiker rate ($10ish less than the AAA rate). I told her I was done with my hike and didn't deserve the hiker rate--I wasn't going on--but she insisted that I was a hiker no matter how few miles I walked.

It was a great hike, and a great way to start my hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. I hiked 18 PCT miles (about 19.5 total miles), climbed 3000 feet, and slept like a baby for 9 hours. Just 2650 miles to go.