[pct-l] After Action Report - PCT Training Hike

[hiker97 at aol.com]

Yes, Switchback, your intrepid PCT hero has defied Mother Nature and cheated death once again. This time in the rugged and dangerous Springs Mountains National Recreation Area. This was at 8,500 feet and 45 minutes by car from my house in Las Vegas. On my scared honor as a mountain man, this a true and faithful account.



My Mariposa Plus pack and I start up the infamous Bristle Cone Pine Trail on the lookout for mountain lions and bears. I never want to miss the opportunity to chase them through the woods. Bear baiting is great fun and a longtime mountainman pastime for us old timers. This is similar to my old hiking pal, Rattlesnake the Macaroni (out of Show Low, AZ) and I chasing hot Neanderthal babes in the old days in the Sierras. I realize that the hiker is no longer at the top of the food chain in these environs. You are out of cell phone contact with civilization. You are alone, on your own and help is only a wishful dream. 



Weather at this altitude can be furious and unforgiving. Humble backpackers never know what climate changes will attack them with death by exposure. The wind blows through the trees and I wonder if the weather will challenge me on this Friday evening. I am ready. I take a macho bite of my teriyaki turkey jerky and grimly press on, determined to not to be denied my campsite goal up the torturous trail. 



The purpose of this adventure was to test out a new gear set up for my upcoming PCT expedition to the Cottonwood Pass area
. It was a shake down cruise of a new hiking kit. Everything worked out great. It was a new level of comfort and light weightiness. It was palatial and luxurious. Months could be had on the trail in complete satisfaction. Restful and peaceful nights are now guaranteed no matter what the weather - no matter how hard the hiking day. 



I hope that Mother Nature will flex her weather muscles. Not necessarily on the trail, but certainly in camp. Lying in my 2.5 pound Hubba free-standing tent watching a fierce storm outside is sweet. Especially, if a bunch of backpackers are being wiped out. I like to watch them try to set up their tarps and non-free-standing tents in a blowing wind and driving rain. Too much fun. It just seems to make my tent warmer and more comfortable to watch this agony. A cold blowing fog or sand is good too.



As I arrive in camp I quickly lay out my 2 ounce spinnaker cloth ground sheet as my porch area and my Z-Rest foam. I then set the tent on top of the foam - complete installation and no cold spots. A dark and foreboding night alone in the woods is just around the corner as the sun closes in on the distant ridgeline. I know the pesky wood elves will soon be attacking Fort Switchback. Then I partially blow up my 8 ounce NeoAir mattress and throw it inside along with my soft down pillow - I also use an inflatable neck pillow. Nice. Then I put in the other gear for the coming goblin filled night full of dark shadows and strange noises
. I am getting scared, but will tough it out like all hard core hiker trash - undefeated and defiant.



I check my weather instrument for a wind chill reading. It reads 65 degrees. I have my 8 ounce Sea-to-Summit Reactor ThermoLite super soft bag liner and the 20 ounce Western Mountaineering Tamarack bag. I use the liner as overbag and it adds 10-15 degrees of warm to my sleeping bag. A warm sleep is no problem no matter how cold it gets. I can wear my down jacket to bed and I can laugh at any wind chill outside from inside my netting tent. In fact, I might be a little too warm at 8,500 feet. I wonder what it would be at 12,000 feet on top of Mt. Charleston. May be I could get a challenge sleeping up there with a nice strong wind. With all the neat light gear available today, this backpacking thing is getting to be for sissies. May be I should take up ultimate kick boxing or sky diving. Or ultimate kick boxing while I am sky diving. 



My supper is some tuna and crackers, plus some tasty Trader's Joe cookies to finish off a great meal extravaganza. I wish I could be out on the trail for weeks to enjoy all the meal varieties I have. What a blast. I figure I would put on about 15 pounds on a thru or yoyo hike. 

One of my doctors recently said I had low hormone levels. I had my second shot Thursday. She said it would reduce fatigue levels and build up my muscle mass with exercise. As the cute nurse gave me the shot in the posterior, she20quietly listed all the potential benefits and side effects. I think about all the hikers who have kicked trail dirt on me the last few years. Who have made fun of me and picked on me. May be the dust cloud blowing by them on the trail will now be me as they cough and gag. Revenge is sweet. Plus, I wonder what will happen now if I run into a hot hiker babe on the trail. Who knows, I might have to change my trailname to Sequoia Giganteum.



But I do not have time to think about that. Of more immediate concern is finding a nice level campsite for my small footprint Hubba tent. That is one things I like about the Hubba. It has a ground footprint of about size of a bivy. It is amazing out on the trail how hard it is sometimes to find a level campsite and the Hubba can squeeze into tight spaces. I bought some carbon fiber poles a long time ago from www.fibraplex.com to put the tent trail weight under 3 pounds. I like 360 degree views in the Hubba day and night. No nylon prison for me. I do not want to miss Big Foot or an earth-ending comet streaking across the night sky to smash into some distant trailtown.
www.fibraplex.com to put the tent trail weight under 3 pounds. I like 360 degree views in the Hubba day and night. No nylon prison for me. I do not want to miss Big Foot or an earth-ending comet streaking across the night sky to smash into some distant trailtown.

As I lay in my tent in the dark forest, I listen to my radio and read my Louis
 L‘Amour paperback. What a life out on the trail; food/drink, entertainment, fresh air, scenery, no crowds, adventure, and a comfortable warm bed. How does it get any better than this? All I need are some backpackers to pick on. You would have to be nuts to want anything more than the life of the hard core backpacker. The backpacker who asks for no quarter from Mother Nature and gives no quarter --- bayonet the wounded and full steam ahead is his/her motto.



Like all professional backpackers, the next morning I get up at 5 AM well before the 6:15 AM sunrise and start my second day of adventure. It is Saturday. I am excited as I hit the trail. Soon I arrive back at the world of weak candy pilgrim car campers. Another 2 miles have been added to Switchback the Trail Pirate's historic hiking resume. Not bad. Not bad at all. With a snarl on my face I mumble the governorator’s famous, “I’ll be back.”



Respectfully and faithfully submitted.


As I lay in my tent in the dark forest, I listen to my radio and read my Louis L‘Amour paperback. What a life out on the trail; food/drink, entertainment, fresh air, scenery, no crowds, adventure, and a comfortable warm bed. How does it get any better than this? All I need are some backpackers to pick on. You would have to be nuts to want anything more than the life of the hard core backpacker. The backpacker who asks for no quarter from Mother Nature and gives no quarter --- bayonet the wounded20and full steam ahead is his/her motto.



Like all professional backpackers, the next morning I get up at 5 AM well before the 6:15 AM sunrise and start my second day of adventure. It is Saturday. I am excited as I hit the trail. Soon I arrive back at the world of weak candy pilgrim car campers. Another 2 miles have been added to Switchback the Trail Pirate's historic hiking resume. Not bad. Not bad at all. With a snarl on my face I mumble the governorator’s famous, “I’ll be back.”



Respectfully and faithfully submitted.