July 31

Last day of July!

Already the mountains fade in the memory.

Supposedly in Pennsylvania at a conference, but the Poconos just aren't the same as the San Juan Mountains, and the trip was cancelled at the last moment in favor of a nap instead. Recovery comes slowly, naps come easily.

July 30

A study of Uncompahgre Peak the night before the ascent. 11+ miles, 14,300 feet.

The morning of the climb attempt. Leaving at 8 AM. Three hikers set off.

First, a pass of 12,400 feet, back down to Nellie's Creek and then 3.8 more miles up.

Three more miles to go, two hikers remain.

Not far now. One more mile.

Three hundred feet more in altitude gain, a rocky scramble up a chimney, puff, puff, gasp.

Two hikers at the summit of Uncompahgre Peak.

July 29

The suitcase made it back home weighing the same as it did when it left.

And imagine the delight when the suitcase was opened and voila!...

Pity the poor TSA Joe who had to inspect the inside of the bag. A week of dirty clothes from hiking; mildewed polypro shirts, pitchy fleece pants, muddy hiking poles, smelly boots, dirty socks, filthy backpack. Hahaha!

Today may be the day that the hiking pictures will get organized into some semblance of chronology. Meanwhile here's a creek crossing:

July 28

The bus took a strange detour on its route home. Instead of the interstate highway, it turned into the parking lots of supermarkets and pharmacies. There were runners in the streets, a street fair, police cars blocking the entry to an alternative highway. The bus driver backed up, turned around and retraced his route through the parking lot. Finally, he opened his window and asked the officer to help him get to his destination. The officer let us through to the bus depot.

Finally, the first stop enroute. One more stop before the car ride home. It's humid, of course. Summer's like that near the ocean. I miss the mountains already.

July 27

Overeating after the Hike of Running-out-of-food. Not cake but Blizzards, dripping in the 90 degree heat.

Not freeze dried peas, but enchiladas, skirt steak, beans and rice.

This is a picture of our last meal on the hike.

One turnip, one green bean and one kernel of corn.

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!

Flying home today. 6 hours of no hiking.

July 26

Success at reaching the top of Uncompahgre Peak!

It was nothing I expected and everything I hoped for.

It was near the top of the world.

And it wasn't a monkey after all.

Christmas in July

Merry Christmas in July!

July 24

I wonder if this is going to be a hellhole. There's only 2 miles to go out.

Shall we stay another day? Or go home to the very patiently waiting doggies? Has it been a success? Were we fit enough? Did we learn anything new? Did we reinforce anything we knew before? Did we inherit some fine trail names? Will we ever do it again?

I've run out of pictures.

July 23

We survived!

Tongues dangling.

Sometimes crawling, sometimes just barely hanging on, sometimes chatting on the cell phone to the rescue team at base camp.

Today, no rest. We continue on to our next-to-last camp, 3 miles further down the trail, adjacent to the falls on Fall Creek. Sounds like the perfect place for camp games! Red Rover, Red Rover, send Monkey right over.

July 22

Today begins our assault on Uncompahgre Peak, from 11,363 feet to 14,306 feet. Not only is the altitude rare, but the miles are long (10.04 miles) and the gain/loss is also high (+/- 2,943 feet).

The last 10 mile hike I did took 7 hours, had a starting altitude of 1,400 feet to the Flume and Liberty Summits (4,459 feet) for a gain/loss of +/- 3,059 feet and took 3 days to recover from. Of course, I didn't have cake on that hike, but some nuts and berries only. This will be different.

July 21

We were prepared for the bugs at Slide Lake. It's a fairly low point on the path, and next to the Big Blue Creek with bogs depicted on the topo map.

Today we hike only 3 or 4 miles, but it's getting up there in altitude. We should end about 11,363 feet. We're out of alcohol already. Trying to get the bugs drunk took all our supplies.

July 20

Today we start the day's hike after a wonderful night's rest in the wilderness.

It was a successful Creek crossing with one minor mishap. We didn't catch any fish.

The campground is a horsey camp. Lots of horse poop to step around. But, surprisingly, there is no one else here. We are the lone campers. No camp games tonight. Just drinking and eating. The more we drink and eat, the less we have to carry uphill. Thankfully, it is a gradual uphill, gaining 3,200 feet in 10 miles over 2-3 days.

Today we are heading to Slide Lake, another 6 miles down the trail. The altitude is near 10,300 feet. Pant, le pant.

Where are those speak-no-evil monkeys?

July 19

WE BEGIN.

The first part is a gradual downhill. At the end of the second mile we find Failes Creek. It looks worse than it really is. Not too quick of a current, not too deep. We change out of our hiking boots and into our water shoes. Mine are a beautiful minty green, not so good for walking on sharp rocks at the river bottom. But better than bare feet. We unstrap our waistbelts of our 40 pound packs and slowly, slowly inch across the creek, using trekking poles for balance. Only one point of contact moves at a time.
Once my brother had a brilliant idea to belay the packs across on a guide line. (Like the time I decided to leap across from rock to rock, not realizing that a 40 pound pack makes a starting 3-inch vertical leap into a minus 3-inch leap.) Into the drink. The packs dove after the immediate stretching of the line.

For 3 miles we lose 500 feet. The toes bump into the ends of our boots. All that weight at 11,000 feet MSL creates a compactness, and no place to keep a spare supply of oxygen. Then we climb up about 200 feet and another, steeper downhill awaits us.

Blue Creek is down in this second valley. Another water crossing, this one knee deep for taller people. It's thigh high for short hitters. The rain has not been too onerous this year, and the creek is passable. It is the lowest point of our hike, and is 9,589 feet.

Just another mile before we camp our first night in the wilderness. The dry climate is hard on bugs. Good darn deal. We will take our vitamin I (ibuprophen) and drink coffee before making a supper of Shepherd's Pie, I hope.

But first, crossing Blue Creek. Goob Luck.

July 18

Today the hikers complete the final packing for the start early in the morning. They go out to eat obscene amounts of carbohydrates including lasagna, garlic cheese bread, ice cream and cake.

Nosebleeds from the dry climate have not yet begun.

The villainous weight scale has been deserted on the basement floor, still blinking "Too heavy, Too heavy."

It is an early night for the East Coast member of the team. Coyotes howl in her dreams. She looks for her hands in the dream world, finds them applying eyeliner and rouge to her face. She's ready for discovery. She has her leatherman. She laughs a laugh that only a mother could love, and even then...

July 17

Gandhi had 2 rice bowls (cooking pans), fork and spoon (spork, 0.4 oz), porcelain monkeys (!!!), diary (aka journal, 1.6 oz), prayer book (Yoga Sutras, 1.9 oz), glasses (glasses, 0.9 oz), watch (cell phone., 4.8 oz), spittoon (netti pot, 2.2 oz), letter openers (leatherman, 2.2 oz), and 2 pair of sandals (hiking boots, 64.8 oz and river wading shoes, 13.0 oz) in his possession.

Is Gandhi going hiking with us too?

I could take my porcelain monkeys if I can find them in time to pack them.

"Happy Trails to You, until we meet again."

July 16

One last walk in the woods before acclimating to higher altitudes.

The dew point and the temperature are just one degree apart. The only creatures that like this kind of weather, present now for two insufferable weeks, are the deer flies and the fungi.

Mycelial forms of forest floor fungus

Hungry deer flies, the little buggers!

July 15

The hunk of hair that was on display for so long weighed more than the black garbage bag (1.3 ounces) to keep the sleeping bag dry. But it weighed less than one roll of toilet paper (4.8 ounces) without the cardboard center. It was 3.1 ounces. And I thought it would be 2 pounds at least.

"Shut up!"

"No, you shut up!"

And the speak-no-evil monkey says, "Mmph!" Translated as "Make it stop!"

Bastille Day

Happy Bastille Day! The French Revolution.

Marie Antoinette.

"Let them eat cake!"

Or Let them eat Brioche as the French would say.

July 13

So, okay.

The hair is gone. And it did not weigh 2 pounds like I thought. Eight to ten inches of dark brown hair drying on the counter. How much did it weigh? What's a henway?

Hair, where it's not supposed to be, will soon to be shipped off to the hair donation factory. What must the receiving room of the Locks of Love look like? A place full of plastic bags, creepy clumps of hair tied with rubber bands, and a passel of brooms like the sorcerer's apprentice brooms-gone-bad.




Doesn't matter if it's on the counter, or the porch railing, or the scale, or on top of Ganesha's head, the see-no-evil monkey doesn't wish to see it and whimpers, "Make it stop!"

July 12

Poor little monkey.

Poor little hear-no-evil monkey, weighing 6.3 ounces, on a scale declaring "thinner", sincerely wishes that all this stupid weighing of stupid things ceases. "Make it stop!" exclaims the monkey.

But the bags grow to 50 pounds, bulging into space despite the scale. Just one more tootsie roll, pleeease. Just one more monkey. Just one more pick-up-stick. Just one more rock on the cairn.

July 11

All packed.

Six days until travel. Three blisters to heal.

Those zipoff pants are calling from KTP.

The hairdresser has an opening on Tuesday for a buzz cut like my brother. Still time to cancel.

One last thing to consider is camp games.

Last year was origami and some beautiful blow-up flower boxes.

I hope it weighs less this year.