My Journey to Freedom and Ultralight Backpacking by Carol Wellman
Authors: Carol Wellman
Tags: sport
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been hiking by that same damn rock for 15 minutes.
Undulation - The vertical or horizontal waves of trail tread. The vertical ones caused by illegal mountain bikers are especially maddening because they are totally uncalled for and preventable. Thru-hikers have verbally expressed bodily harm intended for such offending bikers, solely in the interest of such prevention. No hard feelings. The horizontal ones caused by canyons are just there because they have to be, or else this trail wouldn’t be 2,659 miles long.
We celebrated upon reaching Kennedy Meadows. It meant the end of the desert; now there would be plenty of water. It meant we had come 697 miles. For most of us, it meant reunion with our cherished bounce boxes. There was access to a newly installed pay phone, the enormous hiker box and a wonderful little store with quaint showers, soap and laundry facilities. We showered, washed clothes, stuffed ourselves with hot food and kept that phone busy for hours. In preparation for elevations above 10,000 feet, I bought an old army blanket for $2, trimmed it down, and sewed it with dental floss. I used it to supplement my sleeping bag. This added two extra pounds of pack weight, but I couldn’t have done the High Sierra without it. The price for starting this trail with a worn-out sleeping bag would now be paid.
Kennedy Meadows to Tuolumne Meadows/John Muir Trail
From Kennedy Meadows to Tuolumne Meadows, in Yosemite National Park, hikers do not cross a single paved road for over 235 miles. I packed food and supplies for 192 miles, which included a 15-mile round trip day hike to the summit of Mount Whitney, then over to Vermillion Valley Resort. With ten days of food, my ice ax and blanket liner, my pack now weighed twenty-eight pounds on their scale. In the desert, I used my Cherokee tent every night, but sometimes just as a “bivy bag”, spreading it out on the ground, and crawling in. The condensation was tolerable in such a dry climate. Once we entered the High Sierra, in early June, I used my tent properly every night.
Ascending from an elevation of 6,120 ft. to 10,540 ft., we noted plenty of water and every creek was swarming with thousands of hungry mosquitoes. Upon reaching a suitable campsite, I would immediately set up my tent, and then throw everything, including myself, inside. Those with bivy sacks were very limited. Friends intending to hike straight through to Vermillion Valley Resort, but lacking strong bug repellent, decided to hike the two miles down to a parking lot on a side trail, hitch into Lone Pine and buy something, anything. The bugs were making them nuts. Becky told us the natural herbal stuff that she carried didn’t work at all.
The Gorp Bag
This is a phenomenon I have noticed among many long distance hikers. A gallon size zip lock bag is filled with a decent recipe of Gorp. This name originated when good old raisins and peanuts were mixed together for trail food. Nowadays, there are more elaborate recipes. For instance, the one with equal amounts of peanut M&Ms, walnuts, raisins, and yogurt covered dates. It is an enormous amount of food, and sometimes cannot be finished before the next resupply.
At the next town, perhaps a 13-ounce bag of pretzels, or a hiker box find of sesame sticks and sunflower seeds is thrown into The Gorp Bag. Better to carry one large snack bag than several tads of food.
In the following town we find leftover Chex breakfast cereal joining The Bag. Or some “Does anyone want these?" apricots gets dumped in, along with some indecently moist raisins, or questionable dried apples.
One renowned Bag made it all the way from Idyllwild to Kennedy Meadows, 423 trail miles, where its owner committed said Gorp bag in disgust to a hiker box. Within 2 hours another hiker claimed it. Thankfully, that hiker finished it by Vermillion Valley.
No way could recipes ever be written for a 300 Mile Bag. It may be the most awesome of trail gorps,
Undulation - The vertical or horizontal waves of trail tread. The vertical ones caused by illegal mountain bikers are especially maddening because they are totally uncalled for and preventable. Thru-hikers have verbally expressed bodily harm intended for such offending bikers, solely in the interest of such prevention. No hard feelings. The horizontal ones caused by canyons are just there because they have to be, or else this trail wouldn’t be 2,659 miles long.
We celebrated upon reaching Kennedy Meadows. It meant the end of the desert; now there would be plenty of water. It meant we had come 697 miles. For most of us, it meant reunion with our cherished bounce boxes. There was access to a newly installed pay phone, the enormous hiker box and a wonderful little store with quaint showers, soap and laundry facilities. We showered, washed clothes, stuffed ourselves with hot food and kept that phone busy for hours. In preparation for elevations above 10,000 feet, I bought an old army blanket for $2, trimmed it down, and sewed it with dental floss. I used it to supplement my sleeping bag. This added two extra pounds of pack weight, but I couldn’t have done the High Sierra without it. The price for starting this trail with a worn-out sleeping bag would now be paid.
Kennedy Meadows to Tuolumne Meadows/John Muir Trail
From Kennedy Meadows to Tuolumne Meadows, in Yosemite National Park, hikers do not cross a single paved road for over 235 miles. I packed food and supplies for 192 miles, which included a 15-mile round trip day hike to the summit of Mount Whitney, then over to Vermillion Valley Resort. With ten days of food, my ice ax and blanket liner, my pack now weighed twenty-eight pounds on their scale. In the desert, I used my Cherokee tent every night, but sometimes just as a “bivy bag”, spreading it out on the ground, and crawling in. The condensation was tolerable in such a dry climate. Once we entered the High Sierra, in early June, I used my tent properly every night.
Ascending from an elevation of 6,120 ft. to 10,540 ft., we noted plenty of water and every creek was swarming with thousands of hungry mosquitoes. Upon reaching a suitable campsite, I would immediately set up my tent, and then throw everything, including myself, inside. Those with bivy sacks were very limited. Friends intending to hike straight through to Vermillion Valley Resort, but lacking strong bug repellent, decided to hike the two miles down to a parking lot on a side trail, hitch into Lone Pine and buy something, anything. The bugs were making them nuts. Becky told us the natural herbal stuff that she carried didn’t work at all.
The Gorp Bag
This is a phenomenon I have noticed among many long distance hikers. A gallon size zip lock bag is filled with a decent recipe of Gorp. This name originated when good old raisins and peanuts were mixed together for trail food. Nowadays, there are more elaborate recipes. For instance, the one with equal amounts of peanut M&Ms, walnuts, raisins, and yogurt covered dates. It is an enormous amount of food, and sometimes cannot be finished before the next resupply.
At the next town, perhaps a 13-ounce bag of pretzels, or a hiker box find of sesame sticks and sunflower seeds is thrown into The Gorp Bag. Better to carry one large snack bag than several tads of food.
In the following town we find leftover Chex breakfast cereal joining The Bag. Or some “Does anyone want these?" apricots gets dumped in, along with some indecently moist raisins, or questionable dried apples.
One renowned Bag made it all the way from Idyllwild to Kennedy Meadows, 423 trail miles, where its owner committed said Gorp bag in disgust to a hiker box. Within 2 hours another hiker claimed it. Thankfully, that hiker finished it by Vermillion Valley.
No way could recipes ever be written for a 300 Mile Bag. It may be the most awesome of trail gorps,
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