Well, the days are slowly grinding by, moving me relentlessly towards the trail and this beautiful thing I'm about to do. Slowly, I say, but really I have only 5 weeks left before I fly out, and I'm now starting to finally feel the necessity of planning. I work better under pressure, I find; it's hard for me to get organized 4 months in advance, but 4 weeks? Maybe.
Right now I'm trying to get my map drops in order. That is, places where I'm going to send myself sections of the map set I had printed, they're really great maps, and you can download them for free and print them yourself, courtesy of a fellow named Half Mile. He does it as a service to PCT hikers, great guy.
This sort of planning would be easy if it were just me doing the hike, but since I'm not starting out solo, instead hiking with my AT buddy K-Bomb, it's more complicated. We're trying to make it so we resupply and pick up whatever mail drops we have in the same places, so as to streamline our hike by not going into more towns than we need to. Unfortunately he's out on the road, a long haul truck driver, and we won't be able to actually meet up in Austin until probably one or two days before we fly out.
There are a few easy ones. There's a hiker hostel called Hiker Heaven which I know I'll be at, since it's almost on the trail and the people are awesome, I hear; besides, I pick up my bear canister there. And Kennedy Meadows, also along the trail almost, the kicking off point for the High Sierras, probably take a zero day there (zero miles hiked, that is).
For myself, I hate mail drops. Hate hate HATE them. I'm out there for the freedom of the trail, more or less, and hate having to even think about some government schedule, about whether I'll make it to the post office before it closes, hoping I don't end up in town on a Saturday afternoon meaning I have to wait until Monday... virtual slavery. I'm not really all that into planning anyways; better to just wing it. It's just how I live my life; to spend all this time planning for a future that is utterly uncertain and full of curve balls seems a waste of energy. I prefer to just get a framework in my mind and leave it at that.
Plus there's the cost, I don't want to overdo it on the postage. So I'm trying to do a balancing act, weighing the cost and inconvenience of more maildrops against the benefit of a lighter pack. A lighter pack is certainly a worthwhile investment, not to be trifled with. If it were just the money I'd probably grit my teeth and spend it, but the inconvenience tips me the other way.
So I guess what I'm saying in this post is that though I have maps and Yogi's Planning Guide and myself all spread out on my floor, I'm still not much closer to decisions. Meanwhile, the excitement grows.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Running
Well, turns out I am doing some training.
Today I rode my bike up to the local track, where I did a short run. Easing into training for the PCT, I only ran about a mile, with some walking interspersed. I admit I'm far out of shape. I'm also running barefoot, so I have to take it easy till my feet adapt to the rough surfaces after about 2 years in shoes. I do this because it cured my knee pain and horrible shin splints that always accompanied running for me.
I'll explain that a bit. Shoes, it turns out, are bad for the feet and body. They change the biomechanics of walking and running, what with their raised, cushioned heels, motion control, and arch support. Firstly, arches support themselves, that's the beauty of them. The more you load them the stronger they get, which goes for feet as well, or would if people ever exercised their feet naturally. Also, the cushioned heel allows us to land on the heel, rather than the midfoot as is natural (don't believe me? Run barefoot on a hard surface and your body will prove that to you: heel strikes HURT). Landing on the balls of the feet allow you to use a shorter stride and a spring motion, rather than slamming on the brakes with every step, your straight leg out in front of you the perfect conduit for shock and trauma. Barefoot, you run softly, not jarringly. Impact is far less. As for motion control, I'll control my own motion as needed, thank you very much.
Here's a couple cool videos about the benefits of barefoot running, for those who appreciate science over the emotional knee jerk reaction against being shoeless:
http://physicalliving.com/the-barefoot-professor-putting-his-money-where-his-mouth-is/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnwIKZhrdt4&feature=related
This shouldn't be a big surprise to people who know me: my trail name on the AT was "Moccasin" for walking a couple weeks in moccasins, due to my poor choice in hiking shoes. They didn't fit right, and tore my feet up (about a dozen big blisters and the (slow) loss of a toenail). I've long been a barefooter and shoe-iconoclast. On my first real backpacking trip, in the Porcupine Mountains with my dad, I went barefoot.
Anyways, this isn't meant to be a post about barefooting, but about running. I'm pretty out of shape, and though I don't know where the motivation came from, I'm glad it came. I'd forgotten how much I need physical activity to be happy. If I don't work hard enough to sweat several times a week, something is wrong in my life. This may explain why I've felt rather depressed and non-vital this winter.
It will take a while before I can say this is a truly enjoyable thing, because I've been lazy as hell the last 5 months, and had gotten really soft, especially cardiovascularly. But already on this my second run, I feel better than the first. My body is rejoicing at the blood flow, muscle burn and sweating out of poisons, thrilled at this remembering of the iron of my life.
Today I rode my bike up to the local track, where I did a short run. Easing into training for the PCT, I only ran about a mile, with some walking interspersed. I admit I'm far out of shape. I'm also running barefoot, so I have to take it easy till my feet adapt to the rough surfaces after about 2 years in shoes. I do this because it cured my knee pain and horrible shin splints that always accompanied running for me.
I'll explain that a bit. Shoes, it turns out, are bad for the feet and body. They change the biomechanics of walking and running, what with their raised, cushioned heels, motion control, and arch support. Firstly, arches support themselves, that's the beauty of them. The more you load them the stronger they get, which goes for feet as well, or would if people ever exercised their feet naturally. Also, the cushioned heel allows us to land on the heel, rather than the midfoot as is natural (don't believe me? Run barefoot on a hard surface and your body will prove that to you: heel strikes HURT). Landing on the balls of the feet allow you to use a shorter stride and a spring motion, rather than slamming on the brakes with every step, your straight leg out in front of you the perfect conduit for shock and trauma. Barefoot, you run softly, not jarringly. Impact is far less. As for motion control, I'll control my own motion as needed, thank you very much.
Here's a couple cool videos about the benefits of barefoot running, for those who appreciate science over the emotional knee jerk reaction against being shoeless:
http://physicalliving.com/the-barefoot-professor-putting-his-money-where-his-mouth-is/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnwIKZhrdt4&feature=related
This shouldn't be a big surprise to people who know me: my trail name on the AT was "Moccasin" for walking a couple weeks in moccasins, due to my poor choice in hiking shoes. They didn't fit right, and tore my feet up (about a dozen big blisters and the (slow) loss of a toenail). I've long been a barefooter and shoe-iconoclast. On my first real backpacking trip, in the Porcupine Mountains with my dad, I went barefoot.
Anyways, this isn't meant to be a post about barefooting, but about running. I'm pretty out of shape, and though I don't know where the motivation came from, I'm glad it came. I'd forgotten how much I need physical activity to be happy. If I don't work hard enough to sweat several times a week, something is wrong in my life. This may explain why I've felt rather depressed and non-vital this winter.
It will take a while before I can say this is a truly enjoyable thing, because I've been lazy as hell the last 5 months, and had gotten really soft, especially cardiovascularly. But already on this my second run, I feel better than the first. My body is rejoicing at the blood flow, muscle burn and sweating out of poisons, thrilled at this remembering of the iron of my life.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Tarp Camping
I mentioned before that I've decided to tarp camp on the PCT. Anyone who knows me, hiked with me, or followed my AT blog knows I did this out on the Appalachian Trail as well, for part of the way. They also know that it was a rather miserable experience for me. So at this point, you might be thinking, "geez, this guy really is a masochist."
Well, I'm not. Really I'm not. But I like simplicity, and philosophically speaking, I go out to nature to experience it, to not be cut off from it. I don't even like zipping up my tent at night, so I can feel closer to the night and the world. There's nothing wrong with a few mosquito bites, the body does in fact become acclimated to it and they stop itching and swelling. The first couple weeks may suck, though...
But I've learned about tarp tenting since then. I now have an Etowah tarp, camo print, much lighter than the standard blue tarp I bought at the Walmart in Franklin, NC. It is more handy for various set up shapes as well, isn't visually obtrusive, and isn't as noisy in wind. Here's a great video on a pretty slick configuration using an Etowah tarp. Just one of several new pitches I've learned.
With this and other set up shapes (Flying Diamond, A-Frame and modified A-frames), I shouldn't have any problems with getting wet in rain. And I now know not to set up over a slight depression on ground that doesn't absorb water... Site selection is everything.
I won't be using any DEET this time around, either. On the AT, it eventually got to the point that I'd lather myself up with the stuff, so I could sleep, since I couldn't hide in my 20 degree sleeping bag in the summer heat. No more of that poison is going on my skin, unless I'm seriously going batshit. I may end up getting a piece of mosquito netting to drape over the open end of the tarp, or I'll just have to let myself get used to the histamine or whatever it is in mosquito spit. I did this in New Jersey last year, and it worked; and it almost seems that most of the benefit came after I changed my mind about it, and accepted them. A mind over matter thing.
I hear the nights out there are cold enough that it isn't a big deal anyways. The only issue is when one is hanging around camp, and I don't mind swatting at bugs for that. I also have a headnet, my one concession to the skeeters I hear live in the High Sierra.
Well, I'm not. Really I'm not. But I like simplicity, and philosophically speaking, I go out to nature to experience it, to not be cut off from it. I don't even like zipping up my tent at night, so I can feel closer to the night and the world. There's nothing wrong with a few mosquito bites, the body does in fact become acclimated to it and they stop itching and swelling. The first couple weeks may suck, though...
But I've learned about tarp tenting since then. I now have an Etowah tarp, camo print, much lighter than the standard blue tarp I bought at the Walmart in Franklin, NC. It is more handy for various set up shapes as well, isn't visually obtrusive, and isn't as noisy in wind. Here's a great video on a pretty slick configuration using an Etowah tarp. Just one of several new pitches I've learned.
With this and other set up shapes (Flying Diamond, A-Frame and modified A-frames), I shouldn't have any problems with getting wet in rain. And I now know not to set up over a slight depression on ground that doesn't absorb water... Site selection is everything.
I won't be using any DEET this time around, either. On the AT, it eventually got to the point that I'd lather myself up with the stuff, so I could sleep, since I couldn't hide in my 20 degree sleeping bag in the summer heat. No more of that poison is going on my skin, unless I'm seriously going batshit. I may end up getting a piece of mosquito netting to drape over the open end of the tarp, or I'll just have to let myself get used to the histamine or whatever it is in mosquito spit. I did this in New Jersey last year, and it worked; and it almost seems that most of the benefit came after I changed my mind about it, and accepted them. A mind over matter thing.
I hear the nights out there are cold enough that it isn't a big deal anyways. The only issue is when one is hanging around camp, and I don't mind swatting at bugs for that. I also have a headnet, my one concession to the skeeters I hear live in the High Sierra.
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