Winter Backpacking: Food, Water, Stoves.

Here is a followup to Part 1 of my winter backpacking tips, covering some other critical areas you should consider before traipsing off into the glory of a snow covered landscape.  Here are some basic tips for food, water and stoves:


Food

Winter food plan!

You definitely don't want to skimp on the calorie intake in winter.  Your body will be working overtime keeping you warm, and if you spend the day slogging uphill in snowshoes, you will develop a raging hunger without equal.  More work = more food needed.  But lets say you are just out for a normal hike (no snow or ice to worry about), but it's just really cold.  Even if your exertion level isn't burning extra calories, just being out in frigid temperatures will.

Luckily, you don't have to change a whole lot with your foods, but you probably want to make a few tweaks (besides maybe bring a little extra).  You want fatty foods!  I'll add olive oil to any hot meals I make (and sometimes cold ones).  1 ounce of olive oil is roughly 100 calories, so you can get some bonus energy in measurable amounts easily.  But also, fatty foods (besides helping you feel more full longer) keep you warmer as they digest.  This is especially important to think about before burrowing into your sleeping bag.

Sitting still in your bag, you no longer have the advantage of creating heat from moving.  But you can give yourself a boost by eating plenty of fat right before bed.  Dark chocolate is great (Ritter makes my favorite backpacking chocolate).  As it burns and digests while you sleep, you will keep cranking out the BTUs throughout the night.  I'll also keep a few chunks handy for when the temperature drops more (usually between 2 and 3am), or I just wake up feeling cold in the middle of night.  Also, just having a hot meal (and drinks) in your belly is a huge moral boost.  Winter isn't a time I would recommend trying to go stove-less!

You also should consider keeping your snack foods (the stuff you want to munch on while hiking) close to your body.  Nothing worse than trying to bite into your favorite food bar only to find it frozen solid.


Stoves

Speaking of stoves - do you need to buy a fancy stove, just for winter?  I'll give an ambiguous maybe.  It all depends on the temperature, and also on what conditions you are in for.  Will you be able to access liquid water, or will you have to melt snow and ice?

Let's start with the affects of freezing cold on stoves.  You will encounter a wide range of opinions and experiences with various fuel types in winter.  The two most common types you'll see on the trail (in 3 season backpacking) are of course isobutane and alcohol.  How do they fare in winter?

I read a very comprehensive article on iso-butane canister stove tests at various altitudes and temperatures, but alas, I can't seem to find it now.  I'll just summarize the highlights here.

Quite simply, those canisters are filled with a mix of butane and propane in liquid form.  Your canister stove works by burning the gaseous form of those fuels.  So in order for your stove to work, the temperature of the fuel inside has to be at or above the boiling point for each (which is a little under freezing for butane, and about -40F for propane).

So essentially, if you take your canister stove out and fire it up in temps well below freezing, you will be burning more propane fuel, and little or none of the butane.  It will be harder to light, burn less efficiently, and you'll also end up with a half used canister that you can't burn anymore and have to carry around the rest of your trip.  Plus, as the canister fuel is consumed, it will cool off even more, compounding the problem - the rate of butane fuel being used will go down steadily.

So, do you abandon your beloved canister stove for the duration of winter?  Not necessarily.  You just need to keep your fuel above freezing!  Burying it deep down in your pack with your down helps keep the chill at bay, or you can stuff it inside your jacket to warm it up before dinner.  You can also submerge it in water if you are really desperate (at worst that will keep the canister above the freezing point).  I've even read about people heating up the canisters with another stove or other means.  Not sure I can recommend that!

Long story short for canister stoves, you can still use them, but you might need to do a little more work.  Also, a good wind-screen is critical to try and regain some efficiency in winter.

The glory of frosted beards.

The story is similar with alcohol.  Probably the most preferred stove setup for ultra-light backpackers due to it's simplicity and cheapness.  But it suffers from the same issue as canister stoves.  When alcohol is below freezing, it is hard to light, and won't heat efficiently at all.

But luckily, you can overcome this even more easily.  As soon as I stop and start setting up camp, I'll throw my fuel bottle in my jacket.  A small bottle of alcohol is much easier to warm this way then a large fuel canister.  Usually by the time I'm ready to make dinner, it's good to go - and I can light it with my striker just like normal.  Assuming my finger dexterity is intact anyway.

If that won't work (or I just forgot to keep my fuel warm, or I can't feel my fingers) - I cheat.  I fill my can-stove like normal then pull out my storm-proof matches, light it and drop it right in.  That ignites it every time, and usually gets the fuel immediately boiling as a bonus.  Despite the numerous myths out there, I've used my Caldera Cone setup with alcohol stove well below zero.  A good windscreen, again, is a must.  A piece of foil or thin metal sheet under the stove also helps tremendously, especially on snow.

So, typically, I would say you are fine with whatever stove you have, assuming you go in prepared and ready to overcome the chill.  But besides just boiling water for your meal-in-a-bag (and making hot drinks!), if you want to go into deep winter, sooner or later you may need to melt snow.

What's awesome is, the winter sometimes opens up territories that might otherwise be bone dry any other time of the year by providing an abundance of water everywhere you look.  You just need to make it liquid again.

Turning hail into breakfast at a dry camp in the Tetons.

Either alcohol or canister stoves can be used for snow-melting just fine.  Though canisters have the obvious advantage of working with larger pots for mass-production.  This is something to think about if you are generating water for more than just yourself.  Snow is something like 80% air, so you need to burn through a lot of it!

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention two other types of stoves that are meant for deep winter.  Both liquid burning - so they need priming and a bit more care.  But they will be stable regardless of temperatures.  Personally, I think you'd have to be in for a lot of winter backpacking to make the investment worth it (I still don't own either type below).

Inverted canister stoves, like the Jetboil Helios, are handy in that they use the same isobutane canisters as most other backpacking stoves.  The differences being this one is configured to burn liquid fuel, and uses the canisters upside down.  Just like that, the cold isn't a problem!

The other popular type of stove is white gas - like the Whisperlite.  The great advantage of these is just how much burn time you can get from one canister - they last a LONG time.  You will see reviews and comments are both sides for these stoves.  Many love them, but most will agree they need more work and maintenance to keep them working properly.  Make sure you are versed in troubleshooting and that it's running smoothly before heading out!

UPDATE: MSR also makes an inverted canister stove that is a bit more affordable, and simple then the Jetboil version: MSR Wind Pro II

Obviously, both these setups are way bulkier and heavier than you would ever consider on a 3 season backpack.  But sometimes in winter, heavy loads are the only choice.  Of course, you can always build a nice fire (a fantastic treat in winter!), but that isn't always an option.  Wood could be scarce, or just hard to find - or fires could be outright banned as it is in most National Parks.



Water

Frozen lake walking.

Don't let it freeze!  It's a lot harder to drink!  Seriously though, having your water bottle freeze up is a real pain.  Thawing it out can sometimes be impossible, as the only way to do it is to press it against your core and keep it there for a very long time (sometimes overnight).  That makes you cold, no good.

Most people will abandon their water bladder hydration systems for winter.  While you can use them, it takes some extra work.  You have to remember to blow out your hydro-tube every single time you finishing taking a drink.  Forget once, and it freezes up.  You are done.  You'll also need to keep the bladder against your back.  Depending on your pack, that might not be possible.

I switch to winter specific bottles when temperatures plummet, or use home-made bottle insulators (out of Reflectix).  By far, I would most recommend the 40oz HydroFlask for winter.  It has a vacuum sealed chamber to insulated the inner container, and works wonders for keeping your water from freezing.  It can also keep a hot drink hot!

But before you worry too much about buying more stuff, the number one simple way to keep your water liquid is just to keep it next to your body.  With your pack hip-belt clipped, there is a natural pouch formed right at your belly that makes a great place to stash your water bottle inside your layers.  Heavy winter parkas will usually come with inner pockets designed for just this purpose as well.

In winter, I tend not to carry a whole lot of water at one time (ok, I don't really carry a lot in 3 seasons either!).  If you really don't want your water to freeze, well, just carry it in your body!  Stay well hydrated at all times.  This is especially important in frigid climates, as you will be burning through fluids faster than you realize.  If you start - and stay - hydrated, you can probably get away with just 1 liter or so carried at a time.  And that's a lot easier to manage then trying to keep several liters from freezing.

This of course assumes you can readily access unfrozen water to refill when you need it.  Melting on the go will really slow you down.  Plan ahead, always!

Until next time!  Be safe out there.

Teton Crest Trail Video

A short video from this summer's trip to Grand Teton National Park where we hiked the TCT.  Enjoy!

Be sure to check out more pictures here.  Also, be sure to check out Jimmy Jin's photos at http://jimmyjphotography.com/.

Winter Backpacking, on a budget!

Summer in the Teton's - Photo by Joe Mountain F$%#er Pranio

Over at DCUL Backpacking, we recently started a trial run of a mentor-ship program with the intent of introducing backpackers to the magic of the 4th season.  Those of us with strong winter experience have been slinging info, tips, and safety warnings like mad.  And generally just getting excited for winter!  My xc-skis are already itching for the first snowfall.

I thought it would be fun to write up some of the tidbits I have learned in the last few years (usually through painful experience).  But more specifically, here are some ideas for breaking into winter backpacking without blowing $1,000 on new gear.

I love winter backpacking, and if you catch the bug, you probably will too!

My first winter experience was in Death Canyon, Grand Teton National Park.  While I went in pretty well prepared, I had much to learn.  So I did, rapidly!  My next winter trips were classic Mid-Atlantic.  Cold, but not lots of snow.  Then there were even colder trips, with lots of snow!  Finally, I had my first taste of the Adirondacks in deep winter.  I was hooked.

Coming up is the perfect time of year to try out colder weather.  Warmer days, with cool nights.  No snow yet - but you'll find with time you prefer the temperature to stay consistently below freezing so you don't have to worry about rain!

So, where to start?


Shelters

Invariably the first thing thing I usually get asked by the winter curious, "Do I need an expensive 4 season shelter?"  Nope.  I mean, there are certainly trips where having a bomb proof double-walled shelter is nice - but if you are just trying winter backpacking for the first time, that's not the weather you should be going into.

What do I use?  The same tarp I use for 3 season backpacking.  I think all but one winter trip last year I hammocked with my regular cuben tarp.  I'm not recommending you go out and try to hang in the depth of winter (most hangers won't take their hammocks out in the 4th season), but I want to illustrated what you really need your shelter to do: it needs to keep you dry, and it needs to keep you more or less out of the wind.

So whatever tent (or tarp) you have, go with that first.  Shelters are one of the most expensive backpacking items, so don't spend more money on a new one just for winter.  That is, at least until you have some more experience under your belt and you know exactly what you want (and need).

Bivy sacks are another shelter option that some adopt in the winter.  Letting you just plop down anywhere and go to sleep.  They keep your bag dry, and add some insulation value by blocking air transfer.  But they have there drawbacks - you have to manage potential condensation carefully.  Also, I wouldn't rely on just a bivy sack if there is potential for rain.  Makes sure the temps will stay well below freezing.  They make great options for use in lean-to shelters!


Sleeping Bags

Easily the second most asked question! Do you need to rush out and buy a minus 10F bag?  Again, no.  You shouldn't have to mortgage the house for this one either.  Plus, why spend all that money until you figure out if you even like this winter nonsense?

Chances are, you probably have two sleeping bags (or quilts) now.  Most of us have that super light "summer" - 40 or 50 degree - bag.  And then we have our deep 3 season Fall bag.  Well, you can use them together!

Now, there is a lot of variability here.  I might take a 20 degree bag down to -5F, but most people won't.  Literally, every body is different.  You should have an idea of your tolerances already.  DON'T TAKE CHANCES.  Leave some room for error until you know what works for you.  But, if you add your summer bag on top of your heavier bag, you can usually buy 10-15 degrees of warmth.

The method I recommend:  first crawl into your main (warmer) bag.  Then use your second bag as an over-quilt.  Trying to get inside both bags at the same time is a pain, and you lose some efficiency because one or both bags will probably become compressed.  If they don't loft fully, you are wasting insulation value.

Instead, once you are in your first bag, just put your feet in the footbox of your lighter bag (this helps keep it in place) and drape the rest over top of you.  This has the added benefit of moving the dew point (the point at which water vapor will condense) out into your lighter bag, protecting your more crucial bag's insulation.  Wet down is useless.

No second bag?  No problem.  Add layers!  Experienced backpackers plan out their sleep system to include every stitch of clothing they are carrying anyway.  Put everything on, and crawl into your bag.  But don't get too constricted!  Trapping air between each layer is what makes it work.  See layering below.


Sleeping Pad

Most winter backpackers go with the Xtherm.  But it's not cheap.  You might find you are fine with whatever pad you have, but if you are using an inflatable that is sans any insulation, you will definitely feel the hard winter ground sucking at you in the night.  But luckily all you need is a cheapo foam pad to put under your blow up, like the Z-Lite.  Once again, doubling up saves the day!


Layers

First off, lets dispel the myth that some materials out there are better at keeping you warm when soaking wet.  Absolutely anything that is wet, regardless of what it is made of, is going to suck the heat out of your body at a rapid rate.  Number one, if you get your insulation wet, you screwed up.  Number two, if your insulation is sopping wet in the winter, get it away from your body!

Don't crawl into your sleeping bag with soaking wet layers.  You will just wreck your bag, and really find yourself in a fix.  Take off the wet stuff, stuff it in a dry bag and into your footbox so it doesn't freeze, and worry about drying it the next day.  Hopefully when the sun is out.  At worst, you'll have to put on cold, wet clothes in the morning and start hiking.  But that is a lot more tolerable then trying to sleep while shivering.  And it's incentive to hike faster!

Back to that Number One point - your downy goodness should never get wet.  Ever.  Down is for stopping, not for moving.  That nice puffy jacket should only come out when you are taking a break, or you are at camp.  The rest of the time, it should stay safely nestled down in your pack away from rain, snow, and sweat.  Your puffy jacket, sleeping bag, and quilts are your luxury, and sometimes your life line.  Don't mess with 'em.

Now that we have that all clear :) ...what DO you wear while hiking?  You need to think in layers.  You have your base, a mid, maybe a top layer, and then a shell.  You might not wear them all at the same time, it all depends on the weather, how your body is feeling, if you are climbing, or descending, etc., etc.  It takes experimentation, and experience to get it dialed in just right.

 Here's where you raid your gear closet again, and hopefully avoid rushing out and spending a bunch of cash.  You probably don't need to spend $200 on a fancy heavy-weight mid layer.  Do you have a base layer?  Check, some kind of synthetic mid-layer top? Sure.  A light weight fleece?  Perfect.  A nice shell jacket?  Warm hat?  Gloves? Done.

Avoid cotton, it might feel nice on your skin - but as a hydrophilic material, it holds moisture like nobody's business.  Moisture against your skin in winter is always bad news.

You really don't need much while hiking.  If fact, you don't really want to wear that much.  You will be surprised how warm you'll stay just by moving, even when temps are in the teens.  What you desperately don't want to do, is sweat.  If you sweat in the winter, not only are you wasting energy and fluids (and overworking yourself), but you are getting your layers wet!  See above - that's bad!

What do I wear in winter?  A merino wool top baselayer, like this.  If I'm climbing, it's probably just going to be that, plus my shell.  I'll wear thin, softshell type pants (no thermal long underwear, no way!).  If it's really cold, or I'm mostly on flat or descending terrain, I'll put on a mid-layer synthetic top, or a light (100 weight) fleece top.  If I'm climbing into alpine territory (i.e., into heavy wind), I'll put on my shell pants.

One caveat for all of the above, I'm a polar bear!  I run hot, all the time.  Probably why I love winter so much :)

It's common to think you have to layer up, and stay that way at all times - but eventually as you get accustomed to winter hiking, you realize you don't need as much clothing as you thought while moving.

So if you have that stuff listed above, and a puffy down jacket, you are golden!  When it's time to stop, put all that on.  If you are still cold, it's time to get in your bag.  Really, when winter camping, you are generally either moving, or in your shelter and bag.  Of course, you should also have that thick pair of luxuriously warm socks to change into before hitting the sack.  Also have an extra "emergency" warm layer just in case while you are figuring things out.

If you really miscalculated, boil water and put it in a bottle.  Wrap it in something so it won't burn you, then into your sleeping bag it goes.  You will be amazed how warm you will be!

Some things you definitely should buy: Mittens.  Like these.  Nothing will keep your fingers warm like mittens will.  They should have an outer shell that is weatherproof.  Having a pair of thin liners is a good ideas as well. Basically think about layering your hands just like the rest of your body.  It's nice to have something covering your fingers when you have to pull off your cumbersome mitts for cooking and such.

Some other items that are nice, balaclavas, and puffy (down or synthetic) ski pants, gaiters, goggles for alpine expeditions.  Booties for camp.  But for light winter, you can probably do without all that for your first trip.  Add them a bit at a time as you feel the need, and have the cash to spend.


Footwear

You can (and probably should) start with whatever footwear you already have.  Hopefully your trail-runners or boots have enough room for thicker socks.  You want to avoid constricting your feet if possible, that just leads to blisters and other discomfort, as well as restricting blood flow.  Which will just make you feel cold.

I'll stick with my trail runners until I'm into consistent snow, or I know getting wet feet is a possibility.  At that point, I'll switch to waterproof boots.  It's it's getting really cold, I'll get out insulated boots like these.  I'll also typically switch from my standard Wright Socks to a smart wool variety for winter.

This is another case where you need to know your body.  My feet just never seem to get cold (but my hands do, easily).  Follow some basic advice though, until you find the combo that works for you.  Keep your feet dry as much as possible.  Have some backup dry socks.

If your toes (or any other extremities) are getting painfully cold - STOP, and do something about it.  Add layers, not just to the body parts in question, but your core as well.  If you are getting dangerously cold, get bundled up in your down, eat, and drink warm fluids until you feel toasty again.  Don't carry on trying to "tough it out".  It is very easy to get past the point where you are capable of taking care of yourself.  If your hands go numb, you will quickly run out of options.

Advanced Winter Stuff

There are any number of advanced gadgets you might eventually need, but I think I'll keep this first winter post simple and end it here.  I'll follow up with a more tips in another post.  There are any number of cold-weather subjects to touch on - water (and keeping it in it's liquid form), food, stoves, traction devices, snow shoes, and so on.

But I want to stress again, don't just rush out and spend a lot of money.  Wait until you get a little experience under your belt.  You can, quite easily, spend thousands of dollars on gear that is only useful in one season.

On the other hand, once you do accumulate all that fancy winter gear (and the experience that goes with it), you suddenly have the tools to travel into places where winter persists much longer than it does in the Mid-Atlantic.  Many of our National Parks are spectacular in the "off-season" - less crowded, and wildly transformed.  Suddenly the calendar, as well as new territories, will be open to you!

When embarking on your first winter expedition, try to keep it simple.  Plan on just one night, or have relatively easy to reach bailout points so that you aren't stuck in the backcountry multiple nights freezing if you mess up.  That's just not fun.  Set yourself up for success as much as possible.  Carefully watch the average temps for long term planning, and then live forecasts as your trip draws nigh.

If temps are close to freezing, and rain is likely - just don't go (or go somewhere else).  Rain, when temps are between 32F and 40F, not only sucks - it's dangerous.  You've probably had a rainy trip in the summer when everything you have is soaking wet.  Now imagine being that wet in winter.  Yeah.

Always plan for temps to be 15 degrees below the forecast for safety.  Remember as you climb in elevation, temps will drop.  Wind chill is also a factor.  When making camp, you don't want to be up high exposed on a ridgeline.  You also don't want to be at the lowest point in a valley, such as down by a river or creek.  Move up 30 feet or so in elevation, it can make several degrees difference.

Bottom line, if you play it smart, there is no reason not to enjoy winter backpacking!  It just takes more thought and preparation.  Eventually it will become second nature, and you'll be itching to hit the trails whenever you see snow coming down!

Foot Hills Trail, South Carolina

I never got around to writing up my thoughts from the Foot Hills Trail (South Carolina) which I hiked in the summer of 2014, but here is a link to the trip report on DCUL by trip leader "EZ Bake" http://www.meetup.com/DC-UL-Backpacking/messages/boards/thread/44522432 - check it out!

A great trail, with a few awesome views, and tons of waterfalls to enjoy over it's 90 mile length.

Wyoming Trail Journal, 7/27-7/31/2015

Wyoming Trail Journal 2015
Grand Teton National Park

Monday July 27

Well, that could have gone better.

The good news, no one died. And no frostbite. But...it was dicey for a while.

The day started perfectly. We left the Jackson Lodge after a quick breakfast and made our way to Jenny Lake where we met our Alltrans shuttle. A bumpy backroads drive later, we were deposited at the Coal Creek Trailhead.

Weather was perfect, and we (GQ, Radiance, Joe, and myself) started our climb in the coolish mountain air. We heated up quickly, and in no time were sucking wind as we made the 3000 foot vertical climb to the first pass of the Teton Crest Trail. Life at 33 feet does little to prepare one to perform well at 9000.

But we made it, in good time. The weather was perfect. We descended, had a long lunch, then started our next mountain pass run.

Here things began to get unpleasant. A light rain began. Not so bad by itself - but it came with a cold front and howling winds. Temps dropped to 40F in no time. Soaked, we plowed ahead.

We were tired, getting close to hypothermia, but didn't see a reason we couldn't make it up and over the next pass and to our camp at Middle Fork.

Then it started snowing.

Normally not an issue, but we were all already soaked - and temps now freezing suddenly made things serious.

By the time we approached the pass, it was snowing it's ass off. Joe cried, "Fuck, Snow!" as I caught up to him. I wanted to look for a place shelter and wait out the storm - really we should have stopped long ago. But the other side had to be just minutes away, right?

The trail was slick with freezing mud, and our feet were frozen from multiple creek crossings.

Slogging through brush had as all drenched. My right hand was useless, bright red and starting to swell - signs that frostbite was soon to follow. The left was operational, if barely.

Genevieve was exhausted and certainly hypothermic, but determined to go on. Tough girl!

Joe's hand and toes were freezing, but he carried on with cheerful determination.

The worst news came from Jimmy, his feet and lower legs were numb. He was freaked out, and that freaked me out.

Trail runners weren't meant for this shit.

A couple hundred feet down from what we thought was the pass, I waved to Joe and we all retreated to a small clump of trees. Jimmy and Genevieve were in the worst shape, so while I setup shelter Joe got to work on boiling water. Radiance's tarp was pressed into service as a ground cloth and she and GQ bundled up.

An hour later, things were less grim. We were more or less out of hypothermia danger, and the sun was even out! Frikking birds were singing. You just can't make this stuff up. We broke camp and got back to our climb.

But we weren't out of the woods yet (sorry for the pun). In our haste to not die we had gotten horribly off-route. When we got to the top, we found ourselves at Moose Lake!

NOT where we wanted to be.

After trying for an hour to find the trail, our delirious minds gave up and we made camp not wanted to waste the last of daylight. It hailed on us while we setup of course. Bah!

We think we have a fix on our trail at last from our vantage point here, and with luck we'll get back on course in the morning. Right now it's raining again, and sometimes hailing. And we have had enough for one day.

The extra loop through Death Canyon is probably off the table. With our luck so far that's probably not someplace we should really go anyway...


Tuesday July 28th

A pack of Famous Amos cookies and a Ritter chocolate bar for dinner left my stomach growling most of the night, but the shortage of water made cooking not an option.

Gratefully however, this day was a vast improvement!

We awoke to a coating of hail and snow, which solved our water problem for breakfast. Temps overnight were in the mid 20s - which stretched my 40 deg gear to its limit. All in all, not a bad night though, and my head was much more clear. I even got in some fun sunrise pics.

After breakfast we broke camp and departed camp "Quadruple Deuce" (I'll leave the details of the naming to your imagination). Checking our location with my phone's GPS revealed we had a lot of backtracking to do. We decided on a shortcut - sidehill bushwacking to the valley floor. 30 minutes of making sweet love to some brush and much cursing later, we made it to the trail, sopping wet from the snow laden saplings. Bonus: we discovered a bear bedroom on the way.

We topped off on water, then at long last found the trail to Middle/South Fork. We knocked out the climb, and were rewarded by open, flower-filled meadows surrounded by snow capped mountains. Awesome.

We treated our calorie-starved bodies to hot lunch at the next trail intersection. After eating, we compared our frost-burned legs. The first people since we had started appeared, a few runners and many backpackers.

Refueled, we made the climb to Marion Lake - what a slog! My energy was tapped out despite the hearty lunch. A marmot posed for a portrait along the way. After a long photo op with the blue high altitude lake, we finished the climb to Fox Creek Pass under clear blue skies and strong winds.

A short additional climb brought us to Death Canyon Shelf where we made camp after locating a water source (puddle).

I got a view of the site where I bivouac'd several years ago just short of Fox Creek Pass after foul weather stopped us (literally) cold.

We enjoyed the incredible views with dinner, and watched a herd/gang/bunch of marmots chase a ferret out of their territory. Then Jimmy and I spent some time collecting photos.

Hoping for some star shots tonight if the moon isn't too bright - full moon tomorrow. Totally fouling things up.

Brain and body wiped, off to my hammock which I sandwiched between two huge boulders.

Wednesday July 29th

Safely at camp, we are fed and overlooking Sunset Lake. The day was perfect!

Last night I got up to get some star shots - the moon was absurdly bright so not a ton of success. But the bright lunar spotlight did make an interesting shot of The Grand. While I fiddled with my camera I was stalked by a huge bat. Guess he thought I was the biggest marmot ever.

We were up and off this morning from the shelf after some sunrise shots - the first of many this day. The views just got better and better as we climbed, then descended into Alaska Basin. The terrain was massive and ever changing.

We had a long lunch at Mirror Lake (now Radiance Lake as she dove off a rock for a swim!). Instead of heading straight for camp (which would have ended our day at 1pm) we took the long way around, climbing to 10,500 feet on the Alaska Basin Shelf trail. What views! This set a personal high for all but GQ. I had to stop every few minutes to take more pictures - but I actually felt good today at this elevation, which surprised me.

Next was the gorgeous descent to our aforementioned camp. GQ has had a brutal headache which we hope isn't altitude related. But he's doing better after a leisurely afternoon and dinner - we've been here since 4pm soaking up the scenery and chatting away. Many revealing conversations tonight! - the kind you only get after many days on the trail together. These guys are a lot of fun.


Sitting around awaiting sunset now. The wind has dropped off and the temperature isn't bad, maybe 50-60 degrees. Tomorrow could be tough. Only 12 miles planned but we'll have to tackle Paintbrush Divide.


Monday August 3rd

Thursday (July 30th) was the best of days, and the worst. As I write this, I’m back home having cut the trip short. GB, Radiance, and “F, S” (as Joe will henceforth be known) are carrying on in Yellowstone without me.

From what I can tell from Jimmy’s spot pings, they are doing well and grinding out 70ish miles of our planned route starting near Old Faithful and ending by Yellowstone Lake. They are now enroute to their day 3 camp along the southern edge of Yellowstone Lake, and should finish up with roughly a 24 mile day.

But backing up to our fourth day in the Tetons - it truly was a spectacular day. Easily in contention for the best day of backpacking I’ve ever had.

We had a leisurely breaking of camp. I tried to get a few sunrise pics, but discovered my tripod head screw had come loose,and I didn’t have anything to tighten it with - damn! Warm breakfast was made, and we generally just took our time - but eventually we started the 1,000 foot plus climb to Hurricane Pass.

Finally, I think we all were starting to adjust to the higher altitude, and made short work of the climb, catching up to many backpackers that had left Sunset Lake before us. Once we crested the pass, we were greeted by Jurrasic World. A prehistoric-looking vista was before us, complete with a glacier that was draining into a blue-green pool surrounded by gravel. We were mesmerized for quite some time by this mind-blowingly beautiful scene.

The amazing views weren’t over this day. We descended with the Grand itself looming over us the rest of the day. Once down to below 8000 feet, we turned north towards Paintbrush canyon, and began climbing once again. We stopped for a lengthy lunch break next to an idyllic stream to refuel and cool off. Then it was back to the climb.

At 9000 feet, we reached the (not so) Solitude Lake. Throngs of people were about taking in this picturesque spot. We had a snack break, cooled off once again, and examined to steep switch-back up to Paintbrush divide. This would be a biggest climb of the trip.

At the top of Hurricane Pass, a ranger had told us this side was the “easy climb”. Yeah, that was total BS. For future travellers, don’t believe what people say - coming from the South is the hard way. The other side might be steeper, but it’s barely for half a mile. Before that you have a gentle climb for miles. On our side, it was Grand Canyon-esque climb-time - except with less oxygen.

We started off, one by one. Genevieve quickly developed stomach cramps, but electrolytes and water soon had her feeling better, and we continued on. I eventually caught up to Jimmy, and we got some shots of the Grand framed perfectly by the canyon walls. Then we ground on.

I got to the top a little behind Joe, who crushed the climb as usual (otherwise known as f*#&ing that mountain! - Joe got a lot of trail names this trip). We stopped short of the sign marking the top of the pass for the others to catch up so we could finish together.

We took time for a group shot before heading down the other side. We could see a large group ahead of us taking their sweet time. The trail was rocky and full of loose gravel which didn’t lend itself to a fast pace. But we avoided setting off any rock slides and soon caught up to the other group as they contended with a snow-pack traverse.

We crossed that without dying, and in just a view minutes found ourselves a lovely campsite surrounded on three sides by canyon. Temps were quite warm, and a few marmots (and even a ptarmigan!) bounded through camp.

After dinner (and scouting for cat-hole locations), Jimmy happened to turn on his phone. We could see Jackson Lake clearly, and somehow actually had a 4G signal - go figure.

He received a panicked text for me from Joan - my boy Riker was terribly sick. She wasn’t sure he would make it through the night. After getting through the initial attack of denial, I immediately made the decision to get on a plane the next day. We were all extremely disappointed I would miss Yellowstone.

After a sleepless night, we made the quick and easy descent to Jenny Lake. On the way, a mid-sized black bear crossed our path! He disappeared into the brush before I could get my telephoto ready - but it was very cool. He continued on the hunt for the red-berries scattered throughout the canyon.

We crossed a couple groups of trail-workers that were endeavoring to repair sections wiped out by a recent flash flood. They were putting in some serious work! We finished out the hot day below inspiration point on the banks of Jenny Lake, where we caught a ferry ride back to civilization. The crowds of sandal wearing tourists were a major shock to our senses after a week in the bush.

We raided the visitor center for snacks. My celebratory meal consisted of a massive hot dog, chased with a Klondike bar.

Before long I was changed and packed, and on my way home after sad good-byes with the team. I couldn’t have asked for a better, or more fun group to backpack with. Jimmy, as always, is a solid and awesome friend to tackle the back-country with. Joe's constant positive attitude in the face of adversity kept us driving forward. And the appropriately named Radiance wore a never ending smile that brightened the entire trip.

Riker (Feb 2007 - Aug 2nd, 2015)

Riker (Feb 2007 - Aug 2nd, 2015)

Yesterday, I made the impossible, but necessary decision to lay Riker to rest.  While away in Wyoming, his troublesome kidneys finally quit on him.  I was lucky that he hung around in time for me to fly back and get time with him.  It was even more difficult as his spirit was still strong, and he wanted nothing more than to chase balls all day as usual.

I don’t usually write things of a personal nature here, but I’ve found myself reflecting on all he brought to my life.  I’ve managed not to bawl uncontrollably like a little girl today by thinking of his  hilarious antics, and looking through the gazillions of pictures I have of him.

A prime example, he spent the last 8 years trying to bring down the rope swing in the backyard!  This epic struggle went on and on, day after day - with neither Riker nor the maple tree giving an inch.  A bard or poet is needed to document this heroic battle - I lack the skill.

He had other mortal enemies: plastic bags, wheels, anything with a motor.  Something as simple as vacuuming or running the dryer would send him into a fit of madness.

When I rescued Riker from a border-collie shelter (he was known as “Bear” back then), he was almost completely feral.  Unused to people or dogs (other than his siblings), he had anxiety attacks often.  During the drive back from the mountains of PA, I nearly lost him during a bathroom break when he had a freak-out.  Somehow I managed to coax him back into the Saturn.  We were just minutes away from home when I received my first present as a new dog dad - a big nasty dump in the back seat!

But who could be mad at this face?

The next years were spent in (sometimes nerve-wracking) attempts at socializing him with people and dogs.  The adoption center had told me he would never be able to be around dogs or small children.  Uh-huh.  Clearly they didn’t comprehend the level of my stubbornness.

I can guarantee if I had told his foster parents Riker would one day befriend a mouthy orange tabby named Karma, they would have laughed me back to my car.

Aside from his insanity (which slowly tempered over the years), he was the perfect dog.  Smart.  Crazy smart.  I remember reading training books that would suggest repeating a given trick 30-40 times a day until it stuck.  Most things Riker would have down in 3 repetitions, total. This made it tough when I adopted my second dog (Nala) and starting training.  She was also incredibly smart - but more willful by a factor of 10!

Riker and Nala would be side by side for the rest of his life.

Some of his other antics, fights with inanimate objects!

He would also lose his mind when it was time to go outside.  I needed only to put on my running shoes to send him to levels of excitement never before seen.  He would often do 360 spins in the front yard, unable to contain himself!  Nala would always lose patience at these outbursts.

Once of his greatest accomplishments was no doubt taking someone who was afraid of big dogs, and completely winning over her heart.

To this day, Joan is the only person to meet my dogs for the first time who didn't get the 5 minute barking welcome!

I could fill this blog with literally thousands of pics.  Riker was infinitely photo-genetic, if you could get him to hold still!

The 'border-collie stare'.

I guess one of the hardest things about losing him (other then the suddenness of his passing) was having him from a puppy of a few months old till now.  Not only that, he was part of the catalyst for my life change - when I started saying no to constant work and yes to new life experiences.  He was a major part of what got my out of the slump following my brother’s passing.  Being responsible for a fragile little ball of fur was forever life changing - even more so then my late cat Thunder (who was all attitude and independence).  For he first years of his life, Riker was never more then inches away.

I think that concludes today's therapy session, though I'll no doubt think of his other antics to write about.  Nala, of course, is dealing with his loss in her own way.  Starting with planting herself firmly on top of his grave.

We're trying not to let her mope to much.  Being showered with singular attention is no replacement for losing her 'big' brother.