report: kings canyon

i and a buddy went on a 4 day excursion in kings canyon national park. we started out with the intention of hiking the "rae lakes loop", but instead ended up completing the lesser-known but very rewarding "dollar lake out-and-back".

we took pictures but they mostly sucked and i dont feel like posting them. so sorry.

there are many ways to tell this story. i had a very long drive after the last day to contemplate how i should relate the tale, and i've waited nearly a week before starting. i've had plenty of time to come up with something but still i don't have much.

there are the details of the trip -- the step-by-step narrative -- and the important stuff, the impressions, lessons, and insights. perhaps the best way to organize would be to present the narrative first and the commentary second. a rabbinical approach ;)

day 1 :
we set out from the hotel for the ranger station. while obtaining our wilderness pass, the ranger asked what bear protective containers we had for our food. i'd been using a bear vault for some time and had just bought one on behalf of my hiking partner. well, the ranger informed us that the bear vault is no longer allowed in the park because the bears now know how to open them. oops.

he was kind enough to give us free rental bear cans. we repacked our food.

not far down the trail we encountered a bear cub, a rather large one, with no sign of a mother nearby (good). we continued up the trail.

nobody seems to agree on the trail mileages for the park. we'd obtained a map from a ranger station, one from REI, mileages from the seki website, and mileages from my hiking book. all disagreed upon distances from place to place along the trails. this caused us much confusion in our planning and led to many problems in day 2.

we arrived presently at mist falls. by then we were well aware that our packs were mighty heavy (though i still can't think of much i would have left behind, and i can think of several items i wish i hadn't left behind) and that our hiking was affected by the altitude (6k feet). we rested at the falls, observing the ominous looking clouds overhead. after a while, we left. not more than 5 minutes after our departure, just as we approached the top of the falls, thunder and lighning (big lightning) arrived. i donned my rain jacket and fashioned my trash bag into a pack cover, the hiking partner donned his PVC poncho and REI pack cover. my cover worked out fine but his was much less hassle. even though it weighs more than a trash bag, i may pick one up.

we arrived at our campsite without much fanfare that i can recall. along the way, much scenery was seen and appreciated, and all the other things expected of a hike were encountered. nothing special. bugs, sun, and indigestion. we pitched our tents (i found my missing flashlight inside my tent -- packed in the last time I used it, doh!) and made our dinner and filtered our water and built a campfire and prepared for bed. a dude came by from the neighboring campsite and announced that he was an off-duty park employee, working on building a bridge over the nearby stream. he and his pals had a bottle of whiskey to share. my pal and i declined, politely, because we were tired and had a big hike ahead of us the next day.

i slept well that night, a little too warmly. according to one map, the campsite had a pit toilet. according to another map, it did not. we couldn't find it, so we got to crap in a hole a day earlier than expected. it was fun, actually.

the gps lost reception toward the end of the hike inside some canyons, but the estimated distance for day 1 is about 8.5 miles.

day 2:
we slept late and waited for the sun to arrive to dry out our sweaty clothes. i put too much powdered milk in my milk and had raisin-sludge for breakfast. yum. eventually, we broke camp and set out. time: 11:30. we crossed a mess of fallen logs to get to teh other side of the river and begin the day's journey. according to all our information sources, day 2 would be the toughest hike, with a distance of either 8 miles or 14 (depending on the map) but with a huge elevation gain of at least 3800 feet on all maps. we were confident that we could make it. lots of uphill and flatlands and meadows and mountains and nice scenery. though i had slept well the night before i was definitely not at the top of my game -- the pack was heavy and though the weather was nice, by the third mile i was already ready for a break. since we started at 11:30, mile 3 turned out to be a good place for a lunch break. we sat on a big flat rock and ate our sandwiches.

we set out after lunch and a bit of sunbathing. more mountains and meadows and scenery and stuff. eventually we arrived at a big, engineered-looking suspension bridge with a one-person-at-a-time warning. we crossed and met some campers on the other side. they asked if we were staying and we said we were heading up to rae lakes. they seemed amazed. i later learned that we made this announcement around 4-4:30pm, which (i would learn) explains their amazement. we pumped some more water from under the bridge and set out.

somewhere along the way a breeze kicked up and we converted our convertible pants back into long pants. also along the way somewhere the elevation began to set in and we became tired. but according to our map and our best guesses, we were still a ways away from our campsite. we pressed on.

eventually, tired and ready to stop, we encountered a meadow with grazing mules and a horse. did i mention tired and ready to stop? past the campsite from day 1, we could legally camp anywhere we wished, but my tent requires stakes and since the bridge we'd seen nothing but stake-unfriendly ground. mostly bouldered ground and some gravel. not nice to sleep on even with a freestanding (no stake) tent.

by the time of the equine meadow, we were dead tired, cold, tired, and looking for any comfortable place to stay. the meadow (assuming the horses left) seemed nice enough, but the water supply was pretty gross. we'd almost decided to stay, provided rae lakes (or intended destination) wasn't too far off.

so we figured that horses/mules implied a cowboy, and sure enough, he made an appearance presently. we asked him the distance to rae lakes and he said it was about 30 minutes away. our morale went through the roof and we set out energetically.

30 minutes later the sun had gone down, we were past 10,000 feet, and there was no sign of any place to camp. our spirits were beneath low and we were beginning to be very, very worried. it was getting very, very cold. we put on our fleeces (i didn't want to do that too soon because i was sweaty and would just saturate the fleece and make myself colder, but at that point, i had little choice). i almost couldn't open my pack because my fingers were unresponsive with cold (also i had on my work gloves, which weren't too warm but were better than nothing).

we were cold, tired, and unhappy. the sun was going down -- we were stuck in rapidly-cooling, shaded twilight areas, with sunny spots just out of reach a little ahead. we were too far in to turn back (which meant traveling through cold territory) but by now we had little idea how much further it was to the camp. the cowboy's estimate was wrong, our maps were crap, and we were expecting to find a camp at 10k feet, which we'd just passed.

we pressed on, seeing no other option. after a while (1 hour after our cowboy encounter) i stumbled over a ridge and caught sight of Dollar Lake -- a beautiful sight. a sign by the trail said only one area was available for camping. i checked and it was empty. the hiking buddy caught up and said that the lake was beautiful. i think its beauty was much enhanced by its mere presence -- we couldn't go much further and we finally had a place to stop.

we set up camp with unprecedented speed. my tent -- usually a problem to set up -- went up swiftly and sturdily. we unrolled our sleeping pads, unpacked our sleeping bags, stuffed our bear cans with the scented items, and stowed our gear away from the tents, all with frenetic swiftness. from within his sleeping bag (but outside his tent) the hiking buddy boiled up some water and prepared two dinners. i was fully in my bag trying to warm up my extremities and stave off the impending shiver. we were both mildly hypothermic.

dinner helped -- the hot dinner bag warmed up my hands and then my insides. no time to brush teeth but i did have some urgent business to take care of. the kind of business that's too urgent to stand in the cold and dig a hole. the hole came the next day.

in my defense, i claim hypothermia, exhaustion, and altitude sickness.

ah yes, altitude sickness. it's a serious disorder and the best cure is to move downhill, but that was out of the question. we needed rest. getting to sleep was difficult, AS keeps one awake with rapid heartbeat and nausea. plus, i had unwisely left my long johns behind because at the lodge it had been quite temperate -- i'd neglected to plan for the nights at altitude. i was cold. no longer hypothermic, but not too comfy. i was worried and my mind was occupied with many unpleasant thoughts. we talked ourselves to sleep.

it was a crappy night's sleep. total distance for day 2: 9.6 miles.

day 3:
when i woke, i was cold and had to pee, but it was too cold to leave the tent. we waited for the sun to come up but it wasn't happening. i looked at the toes of my sleeping bag and saw frost. ugh. after what seemed like hours (and was), the sun came out and shone on our tents. it was warm enough to de-tent and discover the frost upon our packs, our tents, and the clothes we'd left out to dry. double ugh.

we walked around a bit and enjoyed the effects of altitude sickness: nausea, weakness, shortness of breath. we got winded walking from our tents to our packs. i got winded walking with the trowel over to the previous night's mess. i got winded walking back. i'm in good shape, i'm not used to being winded.

we ate breakfast and looked over the maps. rae lakes wasn't far off, but it was up and we knew we couldn't handle more up. i was worried i couldn't handle down, either. i didn't see how i could lift my pack if i got winded walking a couple yards cross-country. in addition to the altitude gain required to reach rae lakes, we were behind schedule -- meaning that we'd have to cover more ground on day 3 than planned, or stay an extra day. hiking buddy had to be back to work in 2 more days so extra days were not an option. neither one of us felt capable of doing much more than 5 miles or so, and if it was uphill... 0 miles.

a rodent watched us from a cliff. i didn't recognize the species so i declared it a marmot.

so we decided to go back the way we came. pride is a luxury of the living. we'd had enough of the nausea and weakness.

with no small agony we broke camp and packed our packs. they were surprisingly easy to lift, and once we got started on the steep downhill, we rapidly regained our strength. we made incredible time. though we left at 11:30, once again, we covered the 5 miles to the bridge before we were hungry for lunch. our spirits were sky high. we got to enjoy some views that we'd missed in our deathmarch the day before. at the bridge we had lunch and beef jerky. i pumped some water while a deer looked on from 10 feet across the stream. neat.

while we were having lunch, the ranger that issued our wilderness pass came by. he was on his way up to arrowhead lake for business and some fishing. he recognized us and we admitted we hadn't been up to the task of taking rae lakes and had turned back. he didn't seem too interested but i'll bet he's glad he didn't have to recover our bodies.

we went on over the bridge and kept up our incredible pace. before long we were back at upper paradise valley, our campsite for the first night. middle and lower paradise valley lay 2 and 3 miles ahead, respectively. it was around 5 or 5:30 and we decided to press on, even though the sun was already becoming scarce.

at the much lower altitude of paradise valley, the lowered sun brought chill but nowhere near as much chill as what we encountered at 10k feet. also, below 10k we could build a campfire. we made it as far as middle PV and decided to stay there for the night. we could have pushed on for lower, the last campsite before the ranger station (we wanted to hike as little as possible on our last day), but we opted for comfort and rest.

we built a nice, warm campfire, pitched our tents, cooked and ate our dinner, pumped some water, and relaxed. we watched some stars, watched the fire, watched the moon, and relaxed. then we went to bed.

total distance for day 3: 12.5 miles.

day 4:
no frost on day 4, but i still slept unrestfully. no matter, we were close to the exit. we built a morning fire to warm us up while we had breakfast, waited for the sun, and futzed around. a bit after the sun arrived and our clothes dried, we packed up and set on down the trail. the time: 11:30, our usual departure time.

we hiked fast and hard and not entirely downhill. we stopped for lunch and bugspray at mist falls. despite the poor sleep we weren't too tired and our proximity to the exit gave us haste. we were ready to leave, i'd say.

the last two miles were through soft sand and it was rather unpleasant. still, we made great time and were at the ranger station by 2:15.

total distance for day 4: 7 miles (estimated)

we saw plenty of wildlife throughout our trip: deer, a bear, a marmot, lots of birds, bugs, lizards, and snakes. we saw more scenic views than i expected: the sierras are incredibly beautiful. we had fun, we had arguments, we were sick and strong and happy and glum. the trip was anything but boring.

i learned a lot. first, of course, was that i cut the wrong things from my pack. i should have brought the long underpants and probably an extra pair of pants. i could have left behind the leatherman and the tin foil and the sponge and some of the food. that's fine, that's experience. that's learning.

what we should not have to have learned was attitude. we came in with the wrong attitude. when i do day hikes, i go fast and cover a lot of territory. even on overnighters, i do the same. we assumed we'd cover lots of territory on this trip, hiking 14 miles on two days through lots of elevation. well, even if we were physically able to do that, it leads (and led) to an unenjoyable trip. a trip like this demands time to relax and enjoy the setting. we were constantly rushing from campsite to campsite with very little time to enjoy the terrain along the way. the next trip will involve a full "rest day" with no hiking planned, and the hike days will involve shorter distances (unless we're not hiking at altitude).

we slept in too late. on each day we didn't hit the trail until 11:30. part of this was because we didn't want to get out of the tent while it was still freezing cold outside. part was because we needed to sun-dry our tents and hiking clothes. we awakened around 7 or 8 each day but stayed in and read or talked until it warmed up a little. i'm not sure how to avoid this. assuming we arrived earlier at camp we could sun-dry our clothes in the evening, but how would we dry our tents in the early morning? camping out in the open instead of under trees in a valley would solve the problem, but that's not always an alternative. we could get out of tent earlier with warmer clothes (long johns and warm gloves), but again we face the problem of packing out a wet tent. maybe we've got defective tents with excessive condensation? maybe the answer is to arrive early and let the tent dry out before getting into it? these are all questions that could be answered by an experienced guide or answered through our own experiences. i'll figure them out sometime, but i think the keys to better enjoying the next trip are:

- break camp early
- don't hike too far
- take it easy and enjoy, don't treat it like a race

finally, a question that i struggle with on my day hikes as well: to buddy or not to buddy? i had expected that with a buddy, the pack weights would drop since we'd share some gear. well, we shared some gear: a water pump. that's it. we each brought stove and fuel, but our stoves (and pots) are so very light that it would not have made much difference had we shared. most of everything else was un-shareable: clothes, sleeping bags, even tents. our two one-man tents weighed, together, the same as my two-man tent. we didn't need to both bring fuel, but i still didn't have a handle on how much fuel to take (i do have a handle on it now -- next time i solo i'll bring a half-tank of fuel, next time i double it'll just be one tank of fuel, not two like we did here). so bringing a buddy didn't cut down on pack weight.

as far as safety goes, i still find the buddy question debateable. on this trip, the hiking buddy cooked me a meal while i warmed up and avoided hypothermic shock. that was good, but i probably could have managed (uncomfortably) by myself. furthermore, it's conceivable that without the buddy i wouldn't have been in the situation at all -- who can say? but on a well-hiked route like the one we were on, a buddy becomes less indispensible in cases of injury. had i broken a leg i could have waited for someone else to hike by.

mostly, though, i find that i enjoy the wilderness more if i have a good dose of solitude. just me and god out there, enjoying Creation. i like to go at my own pace, and i more or less do, even when i have a hiking buddy. so why have one?

all these things, though, are interrelated variables -- tunable parameters. change one and the others change. bring warmer clothes and leaver earlier, maybe the buddy is less cranky. bring a different buddy, maybe we rest more and enjoy the trip better. these things are tough to judge in advance.