Well, my latest backpacking trip is now ‘on the books’. Quite the adventure, as most backpacking trips should be. What’s that old saying: it’s not an adventure until something goes wrong!
In this case, I fell in the driveway of my shop on Monday, landing on hands and knees, managing to fold back both my thumbs, and tweaking my left shoulder( though I didn’t realize how bad until I was halfway up the canyon with my 34# pack!) While more-rational 64 year olds might reconsider backpacking under the circumstances, I still live by the motto that when your aspirations meet your limitations, the one you embrace defines you. So I chose to go anyways.
I left home in the early afternoon Thursday the 10th with plans to meet an old friend (owner of the MM40) in Ridgecrest for an early dinner before heading to base camp. Weather was pretty warm for early April (mid 80s) and when I finally got to Chris Wicht Camp it was 6:30, and still almost 80, even though it is in a canyon with a mountain stream, and almost a thousand feet higher than the valley floor. It’s Death Valley, duh.
On the way up from Ballarat, I spotted only one occupied campsite, with a motorhome, enclosed toy trailer, a side by side and a quad. It struck me as unusual because there is not much in the way of legitimate riding opportunities in the near area in my opinion. That, coupled with the fact that Chris Wicht camp has a dark history of nefarious activities made me suspicious. Nonetheless, I removed the passenger seatback as planned and deployed my bedding as planned and laid down for the night after getting a good shot of the Karma Cruiser with the full moon in the canyon. There was only one unoccupied vehicle at the trailhead campsite.
