Navigation

posted Jun 18, 2010 1:42 PM by Paul Wagner   [ updated Aug 12, 2010 10:09 AM ]

We're pretty big fans of maps, and not just as an aid in navigation as we wander around in the mountains.  Sure, they're helpful there as well, but they are also fun to study some evening when you can't get into the mountains and wish you could.    It's great fun to study the mileages, check out the contour lines, and try to decide if you could really make those twelve miles over the pass without feeling as if you were on a death march...or cross that creek that might be swollen beyond belief in the early summer runoff.  Are there fish in that lake up there?   When we plan our trips, we usually start with an idea or two of where we want to go--generally an area within a park or wilderness area.  But then the fun begins.  As we study that area, we start looking for the best trailhead, best campsites, and best routes to get from one place to another.  All of that is done on our collection of maps--both paper and on-line.  If you haven't visited the USGS topo map store, or the ACMEmapper site, you have been missing the fun.  We print out our own maps from both of these places.       We also like Tom Harrison's maps (great that they have the mileage indicated for every leg) but find the scale of those maps just a bit too small.  We'd like a little more detail.  And the National Geographic map of Yosemite is very nice--except that some of the colors are so damn dark and intense that you can't read the topo map behind them.  That's a problem. So is the fact that some of the mileages are simply inaccurate.  We've learned to mistrust those little red numbers by the trails. Once on the trail. P is religious about checking the map against the territory traveled.  He tracks our progress from one point to the next, noting junctions, lakes, and notable peaks.  And we have to admit we've never been lost, even in some of our more adventuresome cross-country treks--although we never did find that one lake in the Trinity Alps.  Then again, we didn't have a map on that hike. But he has been doing this for years, and even enjoys it.  We're always a bit worried by people who just go hiking and trust the signs on  the trails.  We've found a few that were confusing at the very least.    In  one way, the best map we ever had was the one from Henry Coe State Park.  P took a photo of the map at the trailhead with our digital camera.  And for the rest of the hike, we found that by using the zoom on the camera we could navigate just fine.  How cool is that?   We've spent this winter poring over maps of Kings Canyon, Yosemite, and Emigrant Wilderness, and have planned out three terrific trips into the back country of each.    Now let's see if the real work lives up to the expectations we have from our maps!

Erratics

posted Jun 14, 2010 2:22 PM by Paul Wagner   [ updated Jul 5, 2010 10:13 PM ]

There is something really wonderful about walking through the Sierra and coming face to face with a massive boulder that looks as if it has been delicately placed there by the hand of God.  The one in this photo was on top of a bare granite ridge overlooking Spicer Reservoir, and is about ten feet in diameter.  I can't imagine how much it must weigh.   You might think that it had rolled here from somewhere else---but there's nowhere else to roll from.  It was on top of the ridge--and it was all downhill from there.   Nope, it was dropped on top of the ridge by a glacier that picked it up miles away and carried it this far.  And when the glacier finally melted, this massive boulder was let down easy--delicately balanced on top of the ridge for all eternity--or least the foreseeable future.    The name for these rocks is "erratics," meaning that they don't always make sense in relationship to their surroundings.  Sometime they are of a complete different geologic make-up, and only the slow glacial train can account for their location.    But I also think of them as iconoclasts--a bit like us backpackers.  We often march to a slightly different drumbeat, and find ourselves where few have ever gone before.  Or at least we like to think of ourselves that way.  And much like the glaciers, we aren't exactly speed demons.  With the speed at which we hike, it takes us a long time to get anywhere, too.    So we hike for hours, cover a few miles, and the sit down on top of a ridge, or along a stream, and rest for a while.    Just call us erratics.

Camp style

posted Jun 8, 2010 9:46 PM by Paul Wagner

For the past twenty-five years or so, we've used a pair of red plastic cups when we go camping.  They aren't particularly attractive, and the have a few ridges and creases that are a bit hard to clean.  So for a couple of years now, we've been looking for something just a bit better.  It's not a big upgrade, and not a top priority, but it's been in the back of our minds.    And last summer, in the Tuolumne Meadows store, we found a new set of cups.  They're a nice sort of green color, with very clean styling and the same closed loop handle that allows them to clip onto the carabiners on the back of our packs.  They weren't expensive, and we didn't think long before buying them.  Problem solved.   We've used these cups now for the last few trips, and they work just fine.  They're just a bit easier to clean, and there is simply nothing wrong with them.    But last week, when we went for a trip with P's brother, we loaned him one of our old red cups.  And we couldn't help but notice how jaunty it looked on the back of his pack.  There is something just a little sporty about that red color, and we missed it.    So after a very short discussion, we've decided that we'll keep the green cups for visitors and guests.  The red one will go where they belong, on the back of our packs, looking perky and stylish.  In a backpacking kind of way.

Spring Trails

posted Jun 6, 2010 5:41 PM by Paul Wagner   [ updated Jun 8, 2010 10:01 PM ]

As noted here before, it's been a cool, wet spring in the Sierra.  Snow, rain, and not enough sun to melt the snow off the trails.  So we decided to go backpacking anyway. First choice was in Desolation Wilderness...so we got our permit weeks ago.  And realized there was no way we were hiking in that snow.  Then we thought about Carson-Iceberg Wildnerness of 108.  Both Arnot Creek and Disaster Creek sounded vaguely possible until a few days before our department.  They both entered the snowline with a mile or two of the trailhead.    And that's when we thought about Lost Lake, Sword Lake, and Spicer Reservoir. The top elevation would only be about 6700 feet, and snowline was just about that.  How bad could it be?  Or how good?  Well...we started from the Wheat's Meadow trailhead, and we had the place to ourselves.   Admittedly, day one was a bit of problem.  Threatening weather and poor trail conditions made this the longest five miles we've ever hiked.  The first two miles were a simple climb up and down a ridge.  But that was followed by two miles (and more than two hours) of wandering up the Dardanelles Creek watershed in the snow.  The trail was either under snow or under water, but we managed to navigate with map, compass, and a lot of stopping and looking around.  The last mile was a piece of cake/  Once at the lakes, we got amazing views--we camped on the western rim of Lost Lake, and admired the views of Spicer, the Dardanelles, and the rest of this part of the Sierra.  Definitely one to keep in the back of your mind.   And a great start to the summer!