Mark's Off Road Warehouse Fire Thread

[65swb45]

 

[65swb45]

Hiking the PCT has been on my bucket list for a long time. Of particular interest to me was the chance to hike the section between Tehachapi and Lake Isabella. Why? Two reasons. One, I’ve done a lot of exploring of that backcountry in my four wheel drives over the last four decades, including one of my biggest Markguyver adventures.



Second, in the infancy of my Landcruiser ownership 35 years ago, me and two buddies snuck onto/trespassed across a HUGE (took four topo maps to cover it) ranch and saw some amazing things that were burned into my memory. The PCT now has a legal easement across that property.

Last year while I was in Death Valley I met someone who was planning to backpack that exact section of the PCT. I told her I was already training for a three day backpacking trip in the Panamints, so I would be more than ready for the PCT two months following. Unfortunately as readers of this thread know, I took a nasty fall last April, tore my leg up really badly, and missed that trip.

My confidence was high after my successful day hike of Telescope Peak last month, and I made up my mind that the PCT was back in my wheelhouse. I had already been talking with @Kofoed about another backpack trip in the same time slot. So when the weather reports turned, so did I.

For those unfamiliar with the PCT, which I would assume is most, the section I had my sights set on is not only remote, it is the driest, with guaranteed water sources anywhere from 20-40 miles apart. Volunteers not only cache water in a couple of locations where the trail intersects a viable dirt road, they maintain a more-or-less real-time database of water availability called…the PCT water report!

I checked this database daily for the two weeks leading up to my departure. I ran the numbers over and over again, based on my my own history of water needs. I finally settled on carrying 5.5 liters, with the option to fill my filter bladder with an additional liter. That’s 11lbs of pack weight right there. I had bought some new, basically untested lightweight equipment last spring for the aborted attempt that put my total pack weight at 34lbs.

The same gal who I had lined up last year to pick me up from the end of the trail volunteered to both drop me off and pick me up this year. So on the chosen day I drove my van up to the desert, had a great bbq dinner with her and her husband, played some music for them on my guitar, and tried like hell to override all the nervous anticipation and get a little sleep.

I got dropped off at the hwy 58 intersection with the trail (where the pic was taken) Sunday morning the 15th around 7am. Weather was predicted to be warm and breezy, and it was. That’s why there are windmill farms all over the place there! I was in high spirits, and took off faster than I should. But the trail soon took on a steady climb that tempered that.

 

[65swb45]

The first eight miles take a 3000 ft gain, nothing I’m not used to. But when I got to the top I was still SO happy to be there, and eager to keep moving towards the water source at mile 17 that I didn’t stop to break. Mistake. By mile 13 I had bonked. I took out the submarine sandwich Tina had made and managed to get half of it down ( endurance sports often act as a powerful appetite suppressant) But the fact remains: nothing in, nothing out.

Sure enough, the 15 minutes I forced myself to stop, along with the substantial calorie intake, put me back on my game. I walked into camp at Golden Oaks Spring just before 3pm. By the time I had summited at mile 8 I had already seen 13 other people on the trail. When I got to the spring, there were 20 more! I kind of figured the PCT was in its peak season, but not having any prior experience, I had no idea what peak meant.

Actually, I had no idea about anything beyond knowing that I would find a pipe that trickled out a liter of water every 7 minutes, and probably a line of people waiting to use it.

I don’t know why, but I wasn’t prepared for how overwhelmingly young everyone else was. All the other sports I participate in are all with people in my age group. The overwhelming majority of PCTers that I met/saw were in their 20s. Even with the smattering of middle aged folk, there was no doubt that I was the oldest one out there. That immediately turned to my favor as a couple of young folk stepped aside and let me get to the water as soon as the person who was already using it was done.

My first impression was that all the prime real estate for overnight camping in the nearest vicinity of the spring was already taken , and that I would have to make friends with someone who I would end up sleeping about two feet away from…or sleep somewhere else down the trail. But while I was waiting to fill my bottles I happened to look down the side of the mountain from where the trail/spring/camp was, and I noted an amazing little cove that no one had snagged. So as soon as I was topped up, I scooted down there, made sure it wasn’t an ant/spider haven, and claimed it. It turned out to be THE best spot.

 

[65swb45]

Within the hour a full dozen of the 20 left again, for campsites further up the trail. I was nowhere near that ambitious knowing that the next water was 11 miles away, and off-trail to boot. So I just sat on a rock somewhere near the middle of camp and took in the scene.

There was a lot of different camping gear, and I was especially interested to know what actual PCTers thought was the ‘good stuff’. One of the women who I had befriended during the morning’s ascent was setting up a pretty roomy tent that looked like it s was still pretty lightweight. I got the name of her tent and looked it up when I got home: 15oz…and $700!

Backpacks pretty much ran the gamut, but trending towards the simple, having few pockets (mine has 11, 4 of which are just mesh pouches)

The hikers themselves covered the gamut, from cleancut Europeans, to college prep, to grunge, to full-on burners (attendees of Burning Man). Three of the guys were hiking in women’s dresses/housecoats. One wore a Beeny Boy hat, complete with propellor. One had a huge Mexican sombrero. Another a black felt cowboy hat.

And they all had ‘trail’ names.

I hadn’t been prepared for that either. Names seemed to trend towards comic book, movie and video game superheroes. When they asked me mine, it just seemed natural to tell them what all my desert friends call me: Jukebox. Little did I realize that a trail name was also the secret handshake: if you had one, you were ‘in’. Once I discovered that my water filter had died, I had no trouble borrowing a couple from my new friends Stealth, Gaia and Vader!

Wind was in the forecast, and the forecast wasn’t wrong. Before sunset, the wind was already more or less a steady 20mph. By 8pm, gusts near 30 were sweeping through the canopy of trees directly over us. Fortunately, for the most part, we were in that particular zone that is on the SIDE of the mountain, but close enough to the crest, that the wind passes over.

Not to say that it didn’t touch down. But since I was camped at the base of this incredible arc-shaped tree trunk, it was a truly natural shield against the elements. Still, my body was on high alert from the 17 miles, 44,000 steps and 4600’ of elevation gain that it took to get me there. Sleep was elusive.

I forced myself to stay inside my bivvy bag (not counting getting up in the night to pee) until it was light enough to prepare breakfast without using my headlamp. Can’t say why I felt like I needed to do that, but I did. My gear choices all seemed to be working reasonably well, with the notable exception of my lightweight sleeping bag, which wasn’t really big enough for 6’3” me to ever get comfortable in. Oh well, I wasn’t out much ($40) and I would just move on to something else for the next trip, even if it was just my old bag that weighs a pound more.

 

[65swb45]

I was on the trail by 7 again, and shortly walking into exactly the country I had been looking forward to seeing, the heart of the old ranch I had snuck onto 35 years ago. I didn’t take many pictures, but since I had taken none back then, I was still ahead. The trail meandered on, mile after mile, across the sides of many mountains, never veering too far from the windmill farm that was spread out across the actual crest. Although I wasn’t party to the negotiations for the hiking easement, I can imagine those were the owner’s terms.

I stopped four miles down the trail and opened up the pack to get out some pop tarts I’d forgotten to put in my pocket for a trail snack, packed back up and continued on. At mile six for the day I stopped a second time, for another snack. But when I went to open the pack, something had changed. I had immediate access to the main compartment because…MY SLEEPING BAG WAS GONE!

Horror of horrors, how could this have happened? Over the years I have always stowed my bag under the hood of the pack, on top of the main compartment, cinched into place with the hood tension straps. Well, when I put my new-to-me, never-used-before sleeping bag back into its compression sack that morning, it stuffed down into a shape somewhere between a cylinder and a basketball, a little rounder than when I’d started out. I didn’t think much of it. But apparently it was round enough to roll itself out from under the hood. And it was gone!

In the next five minutes eight people from the springs came walking up the trail. Most engaged me right off with a ‘hey Jukebox’ and were immediately horrified by my story. But no one had seen it.

I started back, looking left and right, while thinking to myself that a round-ish object, stuffed in an earth-tone bag, falling out on the side of a mountain in a 20mph wind was not likely to ever be seen, or found. And it wasn’t. My odds for being able to continue plummeted. For as ill-fitting as it was, it was still an essential element for being able to stay in the mountains. The next camp was closer to 7000 feet, and I didn’t think my odds for staying warm through another windy night were good.


So now I was faced with walking out.

 

[Spike Strip]

Holy Cliffhanger, Batman! Now you're gonna make us wait for the next episode!

 

[airon23]

Will Mark Find his sleeping bag? Will he be forced to end his adventures?
Find out next time, same Bat time, same Bat channel.

Great stories Mark. When does the book come out? You are an excellent writer.

 

[65swb45]

I ran into Stealth, Gaia and Vader again. They put the word out on Guthook, a satellite-friendly hiking app, for everyone to keep an eye out for my bag. They also suggested that I NOT try to walk out to the east, to Jawbone Canyon. Interesting enough, their suggestion was based on personal experience.

While I was still pondering all my options until I could get cell service, I spotted a windfarm service vehicle on their service road that was at a point only a few hundred feet from the PCT. I waived them down and explained my situation. They said they weren’t allowed to take anyone in their vehicles, and I told them that I understood. I asked if they could call someone for me and they said they would.

So I gave them my friend’s name and number, along with a message that I would walk out to the point where the PCT joined a 4wd trail, and could they please send someone for me. And I started walking back.

Twelve miles into the day’s walk I made it back to the springs I’d spent the previous night at. Twenty new young people were there. They all saw me come in from the north, which was an anomaly of its own: EVERYONE was hiking from south to north, following the season. Nonetheless I was amused when conversation subsided, imagining that they saw me, the old, white-bearded man, and perhaps wondered if I was going to pull the Ten Commandments out of my pack!

I got one bar of cell at the springs and confirmed via text that my friend was going to bring her FJ Cruiser up the mountain on the 4wd trail and get me. What I didn’t understand from the communication at that point was that because I had failed to specify to the people in the work truck that it was going to take me 4-6 hours to REACH the 4wd trail, she had immediately come for me, and of course had not found me. I had some lunch, refilled my bottles, and continued walking back.

About an hour later I ran into a couple heading north, and they asked me if I was the guy who had lost the sleeping bag. I assumed that they had heard about it over Guthook. But then they pulled a business card out of their pocket with my friend’s name on it! That’s when I realized the extent of the mistake! Oh well, nothing to be done.

When I finally reached the 4wd trail just before 4pm she wasn’t there. Oh well, I didn’t really expect her to wait. And I didn’t want to just sit in the wind and wait, on the off chance that something went wrong with Plan B. So I kept walking. Eventually I got cell again and determined that she would make another trip up the mountain, but hadn’t left yet. I ended up walking a total of 20 miles before I finally put the pack down in a trailside grove that had once been a campground…and waited.

After 20 miles, I would really have loved to have taken off my boots. And theoretically I should have been able to, as I would be getting a ride from that point. But what if something went wrong? Was I burning precious daylight that could have gotten me closer to the highway?

And just as importantly, if I took my boots off, would I be able to put them back on? Not only was significant swelling a very real possibility, I have a nasty habit of loosing toenails on really long hikes. And I’d never backpacked 20 miles in a single day in my whole life.


I left the boots on.

(don’t forget to hit the like button.)

 

[MrMikeyG]

The popcorn widget doesn't seem like a strong enough response for this thread. Holy cow!

 

[airon23]

they saw me, the old, white-bearded man, and perhaps wondered if I was going to pull the Ten Commandments out of my pack!

Mark you had me rolling reading this!

Great read, can't wait for the next part to this adventure. Always keeping us in suspense.

 

[Spike Strip]

 

[65swb45]

Oh yeah, that! Something about having three more excellent adventures distracted me.

So my friend finally reached me the second time around 6:30pm and we spent the next two hours slowly crawling from this gnarly four wheel drive trail back to the highway. THAT made me really appreciate how much of a friend she considers me to have gone through that TWICE, a total of eight hours of bushwhacking and rockcrawling, to retrieve me.

In the karmic story that is my life, it is worth noting that the person I reached out to also happens to be the ground coordinator for the Friends of Jawbone, a land use organization that has an MOU with the BLM for trail maintenance in the area. IOW, she was one of the ONLY people that knew where that trail was!

Final stats: 37 miles, 102,000 steps in two days. Almost 9,000’ of elevation gain. And once I got back to my van, I finally had the nerve to take off my boots. One toenail gone, and a second going. I have a picture of the toe, but it’s pretty gross.

In talking with a friend a couple of days later, a suggestion for a new pair of trail boots with an extra wide toebox was made. I winced a little about the price, but I ordered them. I’ve put them to the test on four trails already and they are nothing short of amazing! If you can imagine the difference between athletic shoes and Merrills being like the difference between an AT and MT tire, these are XT!

 

[airon23]

So is Merrill shoes the go to for hiking then? Never been a big time hiker but would like to go on some this summer.

 

[rkymtnflyfisher]

So is Merrill shoes the go to for hiking then? Never been a big time hiker but would like to go on some this summer.

I've worn the Merrell Moab 2 shoes for years for dayhikes, only in the last couple of years have I switched to Salomon Speedcross running shoes for day hikes. The Merrells are still one of my favorites for hiking.

Anything with weight I wear Asolo Fugitive GTX, been wearing them out for something like 8 years now.

 

[fyton2v]

Thanks for sharing, Mark. Can't wait to get into the Sierras a little later this summer. Regarding boots, I really like the Lowa GTX boots I use these days. My favorite boots were from Montrail, but that company is no more. After my last pair of Montrails blew a sole, I tried something similar from Zamberlan. Hard to describe how much I now hate Zamberlan boots. I learned to appreciate REI's return policy. I replaced them with a pair of Lowa GTX and they've been really great. Comfy and plenty of toe room. You can tromp around in them for miles.

 

[rkymtnflyfisher]

My favorite boots were from Montrail, but that company is no more.

Montrail made my favorite pair of boots I've ever hiked/climbed in, I totally thrashed a pair hiking 14ers in Colorado over a 10 year span.

I was sad when I found out they were bought out and closed. That's when I went to the Asolo boots.

I have a solid pair of La Sportiva mountaineering boots for winter/snow routes, they're up there among my favorites as well.

Different tool for a different job.

 

[SFCDiablo]

WOW.... Thanks for that read, Mark. I've also been contemplating the PCT. For some reason I always think I have to do it as a 'through hike', when indeed many do it in stages. Sorry to hear of your sleeping bag loss on the trail, but also glad to hear that trail etiquette is alive and well.

I've also recently discovered the trend towards wider toe box hiking boots/trail shoes. It's nothing short of amazing. I've always liked Salomon boots from skiing, but they always seemed to run narrow. I owned a pair of their Speedcross. Super comfy, but I blew out the toe box... literally. I've had Merrell, Vasque, Asolo, and now Keen. All great boots/shoes. You'll pay a little more for quality, but your feet will certainly thank you for it.

It's now over, but a good way to get good gear is REI's yearly Anniversary Sale or their Outlet. You can also go to an REI store and can often find gently used customer returns that have significant savings. Sometimes the gear is 'more than gently used', so caveat emptor.

Hope you get the chance to finish that section of the PCT. Looking forward to your writeup!!

 

[65swb45]

Thanks for sharing all. I appreciate your input, even when you don’t remember or choose to hit the like button on my posts. But at the risk of locking the thread again or deleting posts, please don’t turn this into a boot thread!

I hit 12 miles of the PCT in Angeles two weeks ago, and poked into a section near Big Bear last weekend after an 8 mile free-range hike and climb in Pipes Canyon Preserve. I don’t know that I will get to pack any more of the PCT this season, but I’m staying in shape because I’m sure @Kofoed has something else up his sleeve soon enough.

In the meantime, I’ve got a new list of deferred maintenance to do to the karma cruiser after my Death Valley adventure in April. I broke a Rancho bump stop on some crossed-up gulleys in the El Pasos, and my oil pressure guage reminded me that I need a proper sender fitting, which I have now obtained courtesy of my friend @ToyotaMatt.

Next up, a steering box rebuild, while I still have all the parts to do it. I’ve rebuilt too many boxes for others without making sure that I have enough to rebuild the rest of my stock.

 

[Scott68FJ40]

Wow, just spent a few days reading though the entire thread during my free time. The ups and downs that you have documented and shared have given me so much to think about and spent a lot of time reflecting on my relationship with not only my dad, but my family in general. There were times where I felt like I was reading a book and not a thread on a land cruiser forum. Thanks for sharing.

 

[65swb45]

I am glad you took the time to acknowledge some value to you in my writing.

(I Borrowed this from another thread)

As Socrates put it over 2000 years ago: the unexamined life is not worth living. My life has been an amazing combination of opportunity and aptitude. I have met many in my travels who have aptitude, but never get an opportunity. And several who have opportunity, but no aptitude.

One of my many aptitudes is writing. Writing is an art that can and often does happen almost anywhere. Driving around the desert certainly can present opportunities. The vast openness of the desert inspires the mind to think big, and of our small place within the vastness. The desert inspired one of my best aphorisms: what we hold most in awe about Nature is its majestic indifference to humanity.

(snip)

I started writing when I was about 16, painting written pictures of the world I saw around me, and the future I imagined for myself in it. Those words have been a trail of breadcrumbs ( ala Hansel and Gretel) that have helped me throughout my life to find my way back to who I was so that I can see how accurate the assessments of my life’s journey have been. Just like a particular song or a smell can take you back to an exact time and place in your life, so my words are to me.

My ‘examinations’ often go from the specific to the general, looking at how specific experiences illustrate underlying patterns. Many people trying to find meaning in events try to do the same. Many have found my pondering useful in their own searches. Others are unnerved to varying extents. My own mother told me on more than one occasion that she ‘didn’t want to know’ why certain things happen.

And after 60 years on the planet I can also say that a life well-lived is its own source of jealousy. In many respects mine has been a storybook life: getting a good education, a beautiful, loving wife, a home, two beautiful children and successfully piloting my own business for 30 years. All the stuff of fairy tales.

But modern society has become so dysfunctional, the ‘storybook’ so elusive, that it’s easier to debunk, marginalize, or in some other way put it down . It is a natural ego defense mechanism against feelings of inferiority.