Fires Contained in San Jacintos

This article caught my attention the other day, and I was reminded of how precarious things can be out on the trail. It seems that every year, there has been a fire somewhere along the trail that has forced hikers to be cautious or get shuttled up the trail and beyond the fire danger. In 2003, I remember that the trail was closed at Rainy Pass in Washington, which had many hikers taking different routes to Canada.

Hiking through recently fire devastated areas can be depressing. The canopy from the trees is, in most cases, gone. The soil is loose and dry, and dust flies up from each step of the hiker in front of you. Little vegetation grows from below.

However, hiking through burnt areas that have been recovering for several years shows promise and hope. There is something to be said about the natural effect that fires have on a landscape. They return nutrients to the soil, sometimes release seeds from pine cones, and they strengthen forests by eliminating dense underbrush. Some of my fondest memories from 2003 was when I was hiking through burned forests filled with young saplings and beautiful wildflowers. It was like I was experiencing a piece of the resurrection in my own hike.

That said, I hope fires are not being set intentionally for the sake of aforementioned benefits. Of course, the forest service does controlled burns to "help" forests, but I'm talking about the PCT here. Hopefully, the hikers out there can enjoy the rest of the trail without having to be diverted or denied access.

Scrambler's Hike of the PCT

In 2005, I attended the Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick-Off (ADZPCTKO), and I met Scrambler, who had recently finished a thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail in 2004. Scrambler was no ordinary hiker, because she was just 10-years-old when she hiked the trail. Of course she didn't do this journey on her own, since her parents Gary and Barbara accompanied her on her journey.

Yogi e-mailed me a link of a podcast with Scrambler and her parents talking about her hike. One of the things I discovered to be so cool is that she was the one who had nudged her parents to do this hike! I thought it might be the other way around. It only goes to show that sometimes it is our children who are the pioneers and trailblazers in our families, be it in hiking, praying or spending time together. Way to go Scrambler!

Last summer I took my niece out for a 5-day backpacking trip on the Rae Lakes Loop in King's Canyon National Park. Over those 5-days, I reacquainted myself with my then 16-year-old niece, and I cannot imagine a better way I could have spent time with her. We hiked together every day, met interesting characters, ate all our meals together and played Scrabble every night. What a wholesome trip!

When I hear Scrambler's and her parent's story, I think of the beautiful and stark contrast to the culture in which we live. Many parents shuffle their kids off to an extra-curricular activity (nothing wrong with that) to another (now getting overwhelming) only to come home and watch TV at the end of the day. Some parents send them off to numerous camps over the summer because of the difficulties of having the kids around the house all the time.

How many parents can take 6-months out of their lives to be with their son or daughter for an entire journey along a National Scenic Trail? Very few. I can only imagine the incredible bonding that happened between Scrambler and her parents in 2004, and how a journey like that will be so educational and provide rich experiences that will be with them for the rest of their lives. If only every family could do something like this at least once.

10th Annual ADZPCTKO

I just got back from the Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick Off (ADZPCTKO), which went very smoothly.

Attending this year's event was Eric Ryback, who is recognized as the first to backpack the Pacific Crest Trail in 1970. Eric did for the PCT what Earl Schaffer did for the Appalachian Trail: inspired countless hikers to attempt a thru-hike of the Pacific Crest Trail. His book, The High Adventure of Eric Ryback, is an easy and detailed account of his southbound hike on the PCT, and it drew a lot of interest in the trail.

I had the chance to meet Eric and have him autograph my copy of his book. I even got a picture with him, but I will have to wait for my friend Teatree to send me a copy of the picture. At any rate, Eric was a very pleasant and humble man, and he was so excited to be at the Kick-Off to share his account of his thru-hike.

A Hike in the Marin Headlands

The Marin Headlands are a hiking treasure, and they are only located just across the Golden Gate Bridge. I cannot say how many times I have gone north to explore the familiar trails, but I never tire of them.  

This past President's Day weekend, I thought I'd head over there again, and stay the night at Hawk Camp. Instead of driving over there (I don't own a car) or taking the bus (no Muni pass this month), I decided to simply walk over there. After all, there's a lot of San Francisco that I have not seen on foot, and I figure that I can enjoy an adventure just getting to my campsite.

At 12:30, I began my hike as I left St. Mark's Lutheran Church, and walked north on Gough Street. I 

Callahan's Re-Opening for 2008?

I just saw this article recently about the possible re-opening of Callahan's for 2008.  It looks like they are really going green with this project as they are installing the largest solar power water heating system in Southern Oregon.  Cool!  They also mention in the article that they will continue to provide hikers a hot shower and allow hikers to camp out on the front lawn.  Let's hope that they can finish up construction by next July when the first hikers start arriving.

Third Day in Death Valley

Our third and final day in Death Valley was short since we had a long trip back to San Francisco ahead of us.  All of us pitched in to prepare and cook a nice breakfast, and then we packed the Green Tortoise for our departure.  We made our way back towards the Stovepipe Wells Sand Dunes, and at Stovepipe Wells, we took a route south towards the Panamint Mountains into Mosaic Canyon.  One of our guides had told us that this canyon was extraordinary, and that it was his favorite part of the entire Death Valley trip.  Our bus arrived at the unpaved parking area, and we were turned loose for an hour and forty-five minutes to explore the canyon.

I began walking up the canyon with Bettina and Tineka.  What the three of us noticed right away was the smooth, polished marble that lined the canyon walls, obviously the result of years of violent rushing water through the canyon.  It was pleasing to run my hands along the walls as I climbed through the canyon.  On either side of me the walls of the canyon climbed a steep, yet climbable grade to lofty perches above.  I would have enjoyed climbing the walls, but fear of having to scale my way back down them prevented me from doing so, and besides there was a lot of canyon to explore.

Occasionally the narrow wash offered smaller offshoots to explore, but I was feeling more inclined to walk the main wash along with the others in my party.  The canyon eventually broadened out to provide an open, sweeping view of the mountains, whose many gullies fed this wash.  In a driving rainstorm, I can imagine this wash being a wide, shallow, yet violent confluence of silty brown water getting ready to scour the narrow channel that I had just climbed.  Again, there were more choices for exploration, but I stayed on the "main path."

The canyon narrowed again, and the walls and chutes were again lined with the polished marble rock.  Climbing up area required steadiness, patience and a good handhold, since the rock (although dry) was quite slippery.  Large boulders obstructed the path at times, yet narrow passages circumvented these obstacles.  

Finally, my time to climb had come.  The path hit a dead end (a huge rock), and about 25-feet above the canyon continued.  The rock had plenty of handholds and a scaleable pitch.  I began to make the climb up the rock as Tineka and a guy named Jim watched.  My foot slipped once, but I had three other points clinging to the rock.  However, it was enough to make Jim and Tineka to backtrack to safer, alternate path up to the top.  At the top, I sat down on a rock and pulled out my lunch and waited for other members of the party to join me.

After eating my sandwich, I continued further up into the canyon.  I had only another 20-minutes of time remaining before I was going to have turn around again to make the journey back to the bus.  I climbed, twisted and turned up trough the canyon until I came to a serious dead end.  Here, there was a wall of rock at least 30-feet in height, which appeared to be a spillway for the mad rush of water that comes down this wash when it rains.  

Second Day in Death Valley

As with my first day in the park, day two involved exploring two more unique geographical features: Ubehebe Crater and the Stovepipe Wells Sand Dunes.

Ubehebe Crater is located in the northern part of the park at 3,000-feet above sea level.  The crater is actually called a maar (good Scrabble word!) which is produced when ground water comes in contact with magma or lava.  The enormous pressure causes such an explosive force that it heaves lava, rock, dirt and sand skyward, scattering its debris wherever wind and gravity take it. Amazingly, there are another dozen or so smaller maars, including Little Ubehebe Crater, which surround the larger crater. The guide told us that when this area was formed, it was like popcorn kernels popping underground.

The bus pulled up to the rim of the half-mile wide crater, and our options for exploring the crater was walking down into the crater, walking the rim of the crater or both.  I was game for both options.

The 770-foot descent into the crater was fast and easy, but mushy.  Pumice and scree on the main path collapsed with each step, filling my shoes with a lot of loose gravel and dirt.  At the bottom of the crater, I emptied my shoes of dirt and marveled at the reddish-orange wall of rock, whose deep gullies have been carved by rills over the years.  Behind me, the smooth slopes were layered with dark pumice.  The bottom of the crater was flat and home to several hardy plants.

After 15-minutes of photographs and rest, I began the arduous climb out of the crater.  The tread was soft and each step leading out of the crater sank in six inches or so - I found that it was easier to step in depressions left by others ahead of me. At times, the surrounding landscape looked other-worldly, like I was on another planet.  The smooth, dark slopes were dotted with smaller rocks and supported very little plant life.

About 30-minutes later, I along with several others from the tour bus had reached the crater's rim, where we began a clock-wise journey around the crater.  The day was perfect for this walk: sunny, a slight breeze, 70-degrees and not a cloud in the sky.

  

The rim hike kept a safe distance from the edge of the crater, but there were a few areas where slight mis-step would spell certain death.  Looking across the crater, the tour bus was but a small, green box in the distance, and hikers climbing out of the bottom of the crater looked like ants  crawling on a hill.  The size of this crater is amazing.

Rounding the rim, I came upon Little Ubehebe Crater.  I could see hikers were exploring the crater, but as for me I was out of time - I was running late getting back to the bus.  Perhaps another day, I will see Little Ubehebe up close, however, I was certainly not disappointed with my journey around the bigger crater.

The bus next took us to the Stovepipe Wells Sand Dunes. These dunes are nowhere near the size of the Saharan dunes seen on National Geographic Explorer shows, but at 14-square miles, one can escape into rolling sea of sand.

  

The bus parked on the side of the road, and told us that we had 2-hours to go exploring. There was no main path into the dunes, just a short scramble over gravel and small rocks and into the soft sands. It took me about 15-minutes to realize that I could (no, should) walk barefoot into the dunes. I sat on the shaded side of a dune to take my shoes off and I felt the how cool and delicious that sand felt under foot. Walking was an even better experience as I felt the sand massaging my feet with each step.

 

I explored the dunes by myself.  I felt like I needed an opportunity to get away from the rest of the group and go out on my own.  I took many photographs, especially of those dunes without footprints.  I wanted a "pristine" shot, but I found it difficult since so many others had walked on the dunes earlier in the day.

 

I climbed to the tops of high dunes, and I watched children and parents tumbling and rolling down the dunes.  A nude woman and three of her companions walked by carrying a long red banner.  I don't know what they were up to, but my guess was that it was some kind of art project.  There was so much to see with the dunes casting shadows on themselves and the grey, red and lack mountains standing tall in the background. No wonder I've seen so many photographs from this place - it is a brilliant subject for camera's eye.

I walked east of the rest of the group and over to some smaller dunes.  Very few people wandered over in this area, which made it great for pictures.  The sun was getting lower on the horizon and the shadows grew longer and deeper - more photos.

  

Two hours were up and I headed back to the bus.  I wish I could have stayed until sunset to see how the light would have played on these dunes. I also wish I could have walked more on the dunes, perhaps farther to the southeast towards the Devil's Cornfield.  If only I had more time! Maybe another day.