You are currently viewing all posts in the general category.

2009-10-12

Gothic Basin

I ventured into Gothic Basin today, an impressive glacier carved wilderness of the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. It lies near what was once a mining area.

The way to the basin begins on the old, fenced-off road into the ghost town of Monte Cristo. This bit of trail is littered with signs warning of extreme danger, proceed at your own risk, hazardous materials such as aresenic in the soil, balrogs, and other such frivolities. I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about: the trail was wide, level, and well-maintained.

About 1.5 miles down the road, there used to be a bridge crossing over the Sauk River, but, some time ago, the river apparently found itself unable to suffer such indignities and washed the bridge away. At this point, my path branched off and began to climb its way to the basin along trail and old mining paths. The total elevation gain along this section is about 3,000 feet spread out over a good 4 miles or so, making it a steady, but leisurely climb – just enough to warm one’s self up on a crisp Autumn day.

There are a number of small waterfalls that deposit their loads on the west side of the trail, allowing to the water to trickle across the path and make its way down to join the river. Earlier in the year I imagine that these crossings could be tricky, but the headwaters had frozen up by now, leaving these mostly dry. I’ve heard that one of these such falls has been wittingly dubbed “King Kong’s Showerbath,” though I saw nothing worthy of the name.

Some of the crossings higher up had not dried completely, but instead froze while crossing the trail, leaving ice covered rocks in my way. These rocks required some scrambling up, over and around, which was made interesting by the slippery ice. (I reminded myself that last Saturday’s body recovery had occurred only 20 miles east of here.)

Near the top, I stopped to munch on some granola, raisins, and dried banana slices. I did not don any further clothing upon stopping, however, and my break was thus cut short by the chill and the desire to warm up again. After resuming my walk, I pushed on over bare rock and soon thereafter found myself at a small tarn that marked the entrance to Gothic Basin.

The basin is one of the more spectacular places that I have yet found myself in. In character it bears a striking resemblance to a Gothic cathedral, but larger and grander in scope, being carved out of the mountains over centuries by the minute movements of glaciers. A temple of rock.

My awe was quickly overtaken by another sensation: cold. The wind was strong up here, cutting through my clothing with ease. With windchill, the temperature hovered around 20 degrees Fahrenheit – a stark contrast even to the trailhead only 3,000 feet below, which had felt more like 45-50F. I took off my pack and put on two more light layers of wool. It was still cold. The lowlands have maintained themselves around 60F thus far which has not yet given me the opportunity to acclimatize to these lower temperatures. I also found that I had neglected to bring any gloves. No matter. The small tarn was partially frozen over and I wanted to make my way another half mile further across the rock to Foggy Lake to see how it was faring.

Foggy Lake proved to be moving, though I can’t imagine that it will resist the ice much longer.

Standing by the cold water made me think of the packet of kukicha that I had in my pack. I had packed it, along with my old Vargo Triad XE stove, Trail Designs windscreen, and Snow Peak 700 mug. The package is not as efficient or versatile a stove as my Trail Designs Ti-Tri stove, but packs down much smaller. I often bring it on day hikes.

It was too cold for the denatured alcohol to light with a spark, so I used one of the matches from my EDC. Even with the screen around it, the wind blew the stove out once. I relit it and used my pack as a windbreak. As the tea brewed, I jumped around in place, trying to keep warm.

Soon I noticed blood on one of my finger tips: the skin had cracked from the dryness and was oozing a little bit. I tried to apply a bandage but it refused to stick. Must have something to do with the cold, I figured, and sliced off a piece of duct tape from the bit I have rolled around my Klean Kanteen. That held the bandage in place just fine.

After the tea had steeped, I was cold enough to decide to pack up the stove and start making my way back down, drinking the tea as I went. With mug in one hand and a trekking pole in the other, I made my way back to the tarn, facing the icy south wind. Having downed the warm tea in a remarkably quick fashion, I decided to stop so that I could put the mug away and thus have one free hand to stick in my pocket to warm. I set down the pack and mug, digging around inside the pack for the small garbage bag that I carry, so that I could pack out the teabag. It was a bit tricky, not being able to feel anything due to numb fingers. In a minute, I found the garbage bag and opened it, then reached for the tea bag that was still sitting inside the mug. It had already begun to freeze to the titanium. I broke it free, tossed it in the garbage bag, and put bag and mug in the pack. I decided that things were starting to get a bit serious when I found that I had a lot of trouble closing the zippers on my pack. After donning the pack, I could stick one hand in my pocket to warm, but the other had to stay exposed to hold the trekking pole (which I needed even more on the descent than the ascent). Using the spare Buff I had in one of my pockets, I fashioned a mitten-like covering for the exposed hand which suited to block the wind. It really wasn’t that cold out: as soon as the fingers on both hands were out of the wind, they began to rewarm.

With that addressed, I continued the descent, making my way over scoured rock and through whispering trees back to the trailhead. (I slipped once on one of those ice covered rocks near the top, coming a little too close to the side of the mountain, but arrested myself and recovered.) The ascent took 3 hours and the descent 2.5.

Gothic Basin certainly warrants further explorations. Visually, it is one of the most stunning areas of the Cascades. I could easily spending a week just within the small area.

I have often thought about what I would do out here if I were stricken with a serious illness, if I broke a leg, cut myself badly or had an attack of appendicitis. Almost as quickly as the thought came, I dismissed it. Why worry about something that isn't? Worrying about something that might happen is not a healthy pastime. A man's a fool to live his life under a shadow like that. Maybe that's how an ulcer begins. - Richard Proenneke, One Man's Wilderness

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-10-08

quote

Imaginary Lines

How does one hate a country, or love one? ...I lack the trick of it. I know people, I know towns, farms, hills and rivers and rocks, I know how the sun at sunset in autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills, but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where the name ceases to apply? What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That's a good thing, but one mustn't make a virtue of it, or a profession... Insofar as I love life, I love the hills of the Domain of Estre but that sort of love does not have a boundary-line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope. Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-10-06

physical training, wilderness

Mailbox Peak

I hiked to the top of Mailbox Peak today, near Snoqualmie Pass. The trail has a reputation of being one of the toughest short day hikes in the Cascades: it’s only about 3 miles one way, but you gain 4,100 feet. That makes it a bit steep. The Mountaineers and the Washington Trail Association has this to say:

Wimpy hikers, turn the page. This trail offers nothing for you but pain and heartbreak. If you think you've got the goods to scramble up more than 1000 feet per mile, read on. Mailbox Peak brings a serious burn to the thighs of even the best-conditioned athletes, but the rewards make it all worthwhile.

The sign at the trail head warns:

Mailbox Peak Trail is a very steep, wet, unmaintained, difficult, challenging trail. It is 2.5 miles one way to the top and gains 4,00 feet in elevation. Search and rescue teams are frequently called to this trail to assist distressed hikers. Please respect your own ability.

I figured it was all just a bunch of hype. It didn’t look that bad, standing at the bottom.

The trail starts out on an agreeably shallow grade for the first 100 meters or so. Then it gets steep. Then steeper. Then a bit steeper yet. Still, it’s not the challenge it’s made out to be. It may separate the obese, McDonald’s eating, TV watching, weekend warrior (1 in 4 people in the state, last I heard) from anyone who’s ever climbed a mountain before, but it certainly isn’t going to “bring a serious burn to the thighs of even the best-conditioned athletes”.

The view from the top, in contrast to the hike up, was not over-hyped. Today was a crisp, clear Autumn day and one could see for miles in all directions. Mount Si, Glacier Peak, and Mt. Rainier were all visible. And at the top, there is not one but two mailboxes. (I vote we change the name to Mailboxes Peak.) One contained something called a TerraCache, which is some sort of alternative to geocaching. The other held the log book and a number of odds-and-ends that people had left behind. At the base of one of the mailboxes was a firefighting helmet. The state’s Fire Training Academy sits just at the base of the peak and they often use the trail as part of their physical training. (I’m told that they once hauled a fire hydrant up the peak. That is quite a feat.)

I’d like to return to the trail with a fully loaded rucksack on my back. That would be some thigh burning!

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-10-01

admin, twitter, rss

RSS Mash-Up

This mash-up feed still exists, but you probably don't want to use it. As of May 2010, Twitter feeds are now integrated into the blog and thus are included in the normal feed. The mash-up feed now only mashes the blog feed and Flickr photos

When I first decided to add twitter posts to my site, I debated whether I would rather have them integrated into the actual blog posts or separated. Visually, I like to have the separation, but I always thought it would be neat to pull the twitter posts directly into Wordpress’ database, and so have them integrated into my RSS feed. Otherwise, for those who wish to follow my twitter posts, but are not on twitter, they have to subscribe to two different feeds – both my blog feed and twitter feed.

Today, I had the idea of keeping the actual separation of twitter and the blog, but simply creating a new RSS feed using some sort of RSS-mash-up-aggregator thingy. I thought Feedburner could do something like that, but apparently not. After searching around for other options and not finding anything that really excited me, I decided to just use Yahoo Pipes. After all, this is pretty much what it was made for.

Combining feeds in Pipes is pretty simple, but after mashing them together, I discovered that twitter’s RSS feed is kinda ugly. Luckily, editing feeds using regular expressions in Pipes is pretty simple, too. After polishing up the twitter feed a bit, I thought Why not toss my Flickr feed into this puppy? But occasionally I’ll upload a large group of photos to Flickr at a single time, and I didn’t want to totally bomb my new RSS feed. Plus, most of the time when I put photos on Flickr, I create an accompanying blog post, so I wasn’t sure that adding the Flickr feed to the mash-up was even necessary. I figured that I’d toss in the Flickr feed for now, but compromise by having Pipes truncate it to the 6 most recent items.

Now I have a pretty new feed.

Then came the problem of what to do with it. I didn’t want to just toss up a link somewhere. I preferred the idea of replacing my normal blog feed with this new super-feed. But I also didn’t want to just edit the Wordpress template header. I new Feedburner had a plugin to integrate with Wordpress, so I thought about burning the new feed and then using the Feedburner plugin to pull it in, but that seemed a little excessive, particular since I don’t care about any of the click-tracking or monetizing features of Feedburner. Then I found the Feed Locations plugin, which does exactly what I wanted: allow me to specify the location of my feed in the Wordpress admin panel.

Now, if you ask Wordpress for this site’s RSS feed, you get the new feed. If you’re opposed to all this new fanciness and just want the plain old blog feed, it’s still up at the same location, just not linked to from anywhere.

Let me know what you think about having the Flickr photos in the feed. If it’s redundant, I’ll take them out.

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-09-28

herb, health, footwear

Obenauf's Skin Care

I’ve been using Obenauf’s products on my boots and other leather products since last spring and have been constantly pleased with the results. Though I’ve replaced their White Jaguar Leather Cleaner with my standard Dr. Bronner’s soap that I use to clean everything else, their oil and leather preservative are great products.

A couple days ago, I read an article which mentions that some people use Obenauf’s leather preservative as a skin care product. I was a bit shocked at first, but it makes perfect sense. All the LP consists of are “three different natural oils… suspended in Beeswax and Propolis.” And what makes a standard skin care balm? Beeswax, olive oil, and your minced up dried herbs and/or essential oils of choice. LP is pretty much a balm without the herbs. That may make it inferior to products that include the healing power of herbs, but LP is designed to protect skin – dead skin that you wear on your feet, but skin none-the-less.

(Arguably, this lack of herbal material in the LP could be a benefit: it means that the product has no strongly identifiable scent (a useful trait in the woods). If one did not care about the scent and wanted to add something extra to the LP, it would be a simple matter to melt it and put a few drops of essential oil in. Though that’s fine for skin care, I’m not sure I want my boots smelling like tea tree or lavender oil.)

I decided to experiment. This morning I cleaned out a small tin from a commercial balm and filled it with LP (by heating the LP until it liquefied, then pouring it into the smaller container). Now I have a convenient way of carrying the LP around with me, which should encourage me to try it on a regular basis.

I always carry some sort of skin balm with me, both in my urban EDC and in my wilderness gear. Usually, I opt for Badger Healing Balm or Burt’s Bees Res-Q Ointment. I’ve made my own herbal balms in the past, but, as with home-made soap, I have never felt that what I made was in any way superior to store-bought products nor that there was a significant financial savings by making my own stuff. If I decide that I like the LP product, I’ll probably end up carrying it in my larger rucksack in lieu of a normal balm. That would give me the ability to treat not only my own skin, but also take care of my boots in the wilderness. More functionality than what I have now, and it seems a good plan.

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-09-27

gear, knife, bushcraft

Fällkniven DC4 No-Slip Pad

The Fallkniven DC4 is one of the more popular pocket-sized knife sharpeners, particulary among bushcrafters, due in no small part to patronage by Ray Mears.

The technique that Ray Mears uses to keep his stone from moving around is to create a frame by hammering 4 small nails around the stone into a log. This works, but, over on the Equipped to Survive Forums, I picked up a better idea: simply cut up a bit of non-stick rubber padding.

This padding is sold in rolls and meant to be placed between carpets and hard-wood floors to prevent the carpet from moving around. The stuff that I use is actually meant to line shelves and drawers. The only different between it and the carpet padding is that the shelf and drawer stuff has smaller squares and a tighter mesh.

I find the padding to be much more convenient that the nails. It’s easier to deploy – you don’t have to take the (albeit small amount) of time to hammer in and then remove the nails; the pad works just as well on a rock as it does on a log; and the pad does not get in the way when sharpening, as the nails will sometime do.

For storage and transportation, I simply wrap the pad around the DC4’s sheath and secure it with a rubber band.

I still carry the small nails in the bottom of the sheath just in case, but I think the pad is a better way to go.

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-09-26

photos

Vroom Vroom

I went to a vintage aircraft show today. Took a lot of photos and a bit of video.

This article was modified 2012-09-15.

2009-09-25

wilderness

Wild Sky

The Wild Sky Wilderness of the Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest is the newest wilderness area in these parts. It received a lot of hullabaloo last year when it was officially designated. There aren’t many trails, but the area offers much to explore.

Towards the end of this spring, I took my first trip into the Wild Sky, choosing to visit Eagle Lake. The lake is only at about 4,000 feet, but winter seemed to cling to it despite the season and conditions not a thousand feet below. On this first visit, the edges of the lake were still frozen over and the surrounding meadow covered by four feet of snow. I had not learned much about the area before venturing into it and so was surprised to find an old cabin on the eastern side of the lake. It was apparently built sometime around the 1950s for the Forest Service. They’ve since abandoned it, leaving the cabin to be maintained by locals who visit the area frequently. It houses a couple beds, wood stove, cooking implements, wood working tools, warm clothing, a bit of food, and other odds and ends that people have supplied. I spent one comfortable night in the cabin on my first visit and decided that I would like to visit the area again sometime after snow melt.

Earlier this week I made a short trip to accomplish that, spending two nights in the area to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox and the equality of day and night. I had no particular goals in mind for the trip and did not intend to log much distance over the few days.

It was pleasantly uneventful.

The hike in started on a short, 2-mile trail to Barclay Lake. I was surprised at how dry the lake had become since my previous visit. The lake looked to hold only half as much water as before, exposing logs and boulders on one end and a grassy meadow on the other. Baring Mountain still towered above the area, sunning its harsh, 3,000 foot northern face.

From Barclay, I left the trail and made my way north up a ridge to the small – and seemingly always extraordinarily cold – Stone Lake. After Stone Lake, I headed northwest a short distance through Paradise Meadow to my destination of Eagle Lake, all told only another 2 miles from Barclay.

The way from Stone Lake to Eagle Lake through Paradise Meadow was a much easier and more pleasant jaunt with a good covering of snow on the ground. Now, the meadow was a muddy bog that warranted careful attention be paid to each footstep, lest I find my boots submerged in mud. I was glad that I had not decided to come back to the area in July or August, as the meadow looked a perfect place for bugs. (Indeed, I thought to myself that Paradise Meadow was probably named by mosquitoes.) As it was, the year had aged enough that there were no biting insects about. But for that fact and the shortness of the day, it could easily have been midsummer. The skies were clear, the country green, and temperatures somewhere around 80 degrees Fahrenheit.

Arriving at the lake at mid-afternoon, I reported to the cabin and found it all in good order. But the day was warm and the night promised to be clear. I could find no reason to spend it in a box. So I left the cabin and found a well suited site for my tarp on the shore of the lake, a ways down from the cabin. The remainder of the afternoon and evening was spent with hatchet, knife, and saw, preparing the first fire of the season and kindling the blaze against the coming darker months.

That night, I cooked a small dinner on the fire, enjoyed the flame, and went to bed.

I slept in late the next morning, not crawling out of my sleeping bag till 9:30 AM. It looked to be another fine day. It was supposed to be the first day of Fall, but this country didn’t know it yet.

After breakfast, I lounged around the lake, explored the neighboring ridges and some more of the meadow. Near 1 PM, I thought about where I would like to spend the night. Initially I had thought that I would spend it at Eagle Lake once more, either in the cabin or in another spot near the lake, but this trip marked the second time I had walked past Barclay Lake without much of a pause there. It had always seemed a nice spot to me, despite its close proximity to the trailhead. There would be little chance of encountering many people at Barclay, it being the middle of the week and summer now over. I decided I would try a night down there.

Working my way back down to Barclay was a sweaty affair. I encouraged myself along the way by thinking that I could jump in the lake to wash and cool off at the end of it. When I finally made my way back down and arrived at Barclay it was still plenty light, but I was disappointed to find that the sun had already gone behind Baring Mountain. No matter, I thought, and, stripping down to my underwear, jumped in. It was cold. Cold enough to make me think it a surprise that there wasn’t any ice on the surface. My time in the lake was shorter than I had previously expected.

I had already laid out my nice, warm, merino wool baselayers before jumping in, and eagerly put them on after drying off. The lake had left me feeling refreshed, and I went off to find a suitable spot to hang my tarp for the night. I cooked and ate dinner as the land darkened. Just before dusk I heard a strange sound and looked up in time to see a chute open. Two people had jumped off the top of Baring and para-glided down to the meadow on the eastern side of the lake. Soon after, I retreated to bed and went off to another satisfying sleep.

Next morning I woke up early, but stayed in my sleeping bag reading till around 9. It was another slow morning, with not much of anything occurring besides breakfast. Laying on the beach of the lake just before noon I spotted a small wisp of cloud in the west. It was creeping in on an otherwise spotless sky. No more than 15 minutes later, the valley was filled with fog. Fall had finally arrived, I thought, and took that as my cue to break camp and head off back to the trailhead.

This article was modified 2012-09-15.