Hiker Writer

Lessons on Altitude Sickness from the Himalayan Rescue Association

2012-01-04T11:01:00.000-08:00

Annapurna Sanctuary

The Himalayan Rescue Association was founded in 1973 as a collaboration among volunteer visiting doctors, Nepali health officials and doctors, and representatives from trekking companies. The founders recognized that Nepal’s trekking routes were drawing more and more tourists to the high altitudes of the Himalayas – but at a cost.

The most common trekking routes reach dangerous altitudes for inexperienced hikers: up to nearly 18,000 feet at Everest Base Camp and at the Thorong La on the Annapurna Circuit, and more than 16,000 feet on other popular routes. Because many trekkers had no idea how to recognize and respond to the symptoms of altitude sickness, some became seriously ill and sometimes died.

Himalayan Rescue Association Aid Stations Near Mt. Everest, Annapurna

The first station was opened in 1973 at the hill town of Pheriche in the Khumbu region, on Nepal’s Mt. Everest Trek, at an altitude of about 14,000 feet. During the trekking seasons, it was manned by volunteers who lived in yak herders’ huts and tents.

A second station was opened in 1981, in Manang, a town on the Annapurna Trek, a two-day walk from Thorong La, the 17,800-foot pass that is the Annapurna Trek’s highest point. Temporary posts have also been opened at entry points to popular trekking routes, including Rolwaling, near the start of the route into the Annapurna Sanctuary, the start of the Gokyo Trail, and Gosaikunda Lake on the Helambu-Langtang Trek near Kathmandu. At the aid stations, doctors provide education, screening, and treatment; if necessary, they also aid in rescues of afflicted trekkers

Educating Nepal’s Trekkers About Altitude Sickness

Nepal's High altitudes are a potential

Where altitude sickness (also called acute mountain sickness) is concerned, prevention is always the best course of action. This is particularly true in Nepal, where rescue is difficult because there are no roads into the trekking areas. Air-rescue is expensive and often impossible because of weather conditions and terrain.

So the Himalayan Rescue Association program focuses on prevention. They publish a series of educational pamphlets, available in Kathmandu hotels and trekking agencies. And during the trekking season, doctors hold a daily lecture on altitude sickness at the hill-town aid stations. By screening trekkers as they come through the high hill towns, the Himalayan Rescue Association has been able to decrease the incidents of mountain sickness.

The lectures teach trekkers to recognize symptoms of altitude sickness, and stress the importance of gaining elevation slowly and taking rest days. This advice is particularly important on the Annapurna Trek, because the Thorong La reaches such high elevations, and on the Everest Trek, because today, many Everest trekkers fly to the airstrip at the high-altitude village of Lukla. They therefore forego some of the essential acclimatization that is one of the main ways to prevent altitude sickness.

Himalayan Rescue Association doctors also stress that Nepali porters and guides are also susceptible to altitude sickness. While many Sherpa people native to the Sol Khumbu region near Mt. Everest are well-acclimated to the high altitude, porters and guides from lower elevations near Pokhara or Kathmandu are often just as susceptible to altitude sickness as trekkers – but may be less likely to admit to it, since their jobs depend on their strength. Trekkers therefore, need to be alert not only to their symptoms, and those of their trekking partners, but to symptoms of porters and guides as well.

Volunteer Doctors Contribute to Local Communities in Nepal's Trekking Regions

In addition to providing preventative care for trekkers, guides, and porters, the Himalayan Rescue Association has done comprehensive research on the subject of altitude sickness. It also provides free and low-cost medical care to local villagers who live near the stations (sometimes, even, trying to treat sick animals brought in by villagers!). These are remote towns, far from any roads, and the health care provided by the volunteer doctors is the only western medical care available.

Thus, the Himalayan Rescue Association has made a big contribution, not only to trekkers, but to the local community as well. Safe tourism boosts the Nepalese economy. And donations collected from trekkers are used to support the medical care given to local people.

How to Thru-hike the Appalachian Trail

2011-10-22T12:38:00.000-07:00

I think I've probably written about one million words about long-distance hiking and the Appalachian Trail. And there are probably another 100 million words spread all over the web by others. In this post, I'm going to gather some URLs together from stories I've written on different aspects of thru-hiking. If you have a question that isn't addressed here, feel free to ask in the comments section, and I'll try to direct you to an answer.

And please let me know if this is useful! Comments welcome.

The Plaque at Springer Mountain

Suggestion: Bookmark this page and come back to it, because I'll add new links as I write new stuff. At least for the next few months.

Facts About the Appalachian Trail: Basic overview of stuff you need to know: length, seasons, northbound/south bound, climate, etc..

Challenges and Surprises of Hiking the Appalachian Trail. Why do so many prospective thru-hikers fail? Because the trail won't always be what you expect. Here are some lesser known facts about the AT.

Avoid Danger When Hiking the Appalachian Trail: This article answers all the questions your mother may be worried about, including bears (of course) snakes, mountain lions, stranger danger, and insects and disease. More on bears here.

How to Plan an Appalachian Trail Thru-hike: How do you even get started planning to hike 2,200 miles across 14 states for six months? basic scheduling, food planning info, start dates, mileage.

Food Drops on the Appalachian Trail: How do you resupply? Cardboard boxes, a willing accomplice at home, and the U.S. Post office. Here's how to manage your food drops.

Planning Food for the Appalachian Trail: Of course, you can't just shove food in a box, you've got to choose it, figure out how much food you need for each drop, think about variety and what might be available en route. Here are some food planning basics.

Packing for an Appalachian Trail Thru-hike. You need stuff. What stuff? Gear, clothes, guidebooks. Stuff. The lightest weight stuff you can find. Repeat after me: Lighter is better. Lighter is better. Lighter is better.

Sleeping Bags for the Appalachian Trail. You're gonna be tired. You're gonna need to sleep. Here's how to choose a sleeping bag.

How to Start an Appalachian Trail Thru-hike: Okay, you've got your gear, you've packed your boxes, you have your maps: Now it's time to start. LOTS of people drop out in the first couple of hundred miles. Here's not be be a Bill Byrson.

Katahdin in Maine

Thru-Hiker Lingo: Wanna talk the talk? Here's a thru-hiker dictionary.

Hiking the AT (for AMC Outdoors) I originally wrote this one for AMC Outdoors. It's broken up for the Web as a series of short snippets, so keep clicking on the button at the bottom to keep reading. An old piece, but I think it sums up some of what's special about the trail, although some of the characters have changed.

That ought to get you started. Good luck, and holler if you have questions.

Overview for Planning an Appalachian Trail Thru-hike

2011-09-20T16:51:00.000-07:00

The first in a series of articles about long-distance hiking on the Appalachian Trail and how to plan, prepare, and pack for it. This article is a general overview. For links to the rest of the articles, go to the Appalachian trail thru-hiker index.

Every spring, some 2,000 people converge at Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the Appalachian Trail's in northwest Georgia. A couple of hundred more start later in the season, going southbound from Mt. Katahdin, the Appalachian Trail's northern terminus in Maine.

Historically, the drop-out rate has been enormous, with some 90 percent of those who start failing to finish. More recently, according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, the completion rate has been higher - as much as 25 or 30 percent - perhaps due to the amount of information now available.

How to Prepare for Hiking the Appalachian Trail

Get some hiking experience! Unbelievably, some people show up at the trail having never backpacked before. Perhaps they were inspired by a slide show or a book, but it takes more than a dream to hike 2,200 miles Long-distance backpacking involves aches and pains, smelly socks, smellier tent mates, foul weather (including mud, rain, snow, heat, and humidity), insects, rodents, roots, rocks, and sheer exhaustion. There are plenty of wonderful rewards - but not everyone is cut out to be a long-distance hiker. It's better to find out first, before quitting a job and taking six months off!
Read about it. Couples, old men, young women, a blind hiker, a family: it seems that everyone has penned his or her story of an Appalachian Trail thru-hike. What's especially interesting is that these books and Internet accounts have so much in common. Everyone, it seems, starts with a too-heavy pack.
Fitness. It's certainly true that the only way to truly get ready to put on a pack and walk up a mountain is to put on a pack and walk up a mountain. But hikers who are fit at the start are going to be a whole lot happier than hikers who aren't. Anything aerobic will help.
Equipment: One rule is constant. Packs should be as light as possible. Most experienced long-distance backpackers use the lightest gear available. Or modify gear to cut weight.
Foot preparation: Be sure shoes fit properly. Thru-hikers use either trekking shoe or hiking boots; the decision depends on pack-weight, ankle strength, and fitness.

Appalachian Trail Planning Resources for Itineraries and Resupply

The Appalachian Trail Conservancy has a long list of books, guides, maps, and resources on every aspect of the Appalachian Trail.

The A.T Data Book is a pocket-sized book containing information about trail mileages between water sources, campsites, mountain summits, road crossings, towns, and other features.
Guidebooks and maps are available for each region of the trail from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. Each pack contains a series of topographic maps, profile maps (showing elevation change along with major landmarks), and a guidebook for that section.
The Thru-Hiker's Companion, published by the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association, contains information about major trail landmarks , but is most useful for its information about towns where hikers can resupply, do laundry, find cheap accommodations, and get meals.
Resupply: Most hikers pre-pack food and supplies that they have bought in advance. Then someone at home mails the boxes to general delivery at post offices along the Appalachian Trail. Zip codes can be found in the Thru-Hikers Companion or the Data Book. It is possible to buy supplies en route, although small towns may have only a tiny convenience store with limited supplies. Most hikers send boxes to the tiny towns, and do a combination of mail drops and en-route shopping in larger towns.

With thorough planning, a positive attitude, and a sense of adventure, an A.T thru-hike is just five million steps away.

Karen Berger has thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail.

America's Triple Crown Trails: Best Long Hikes in the World Series

2011-09-19T10:24:00.000-07:00

Thinking about a thru-hike? Use this comparison of the Appalachian, Pacific Crest, and Continental Divide National Scenic Trails to help choose your hoe for the next few moths.

The national scenic trails are designated by the United States Congress because of their outstanding scenic beauty and recreational opportunities. There are currently 11 long trails in the system (three were added to the system in 2009). The Appalachian, Pacific Crest, and Continental Divide trails are the oldest and best established, and the most popular with backpackers. These three trails have come to be known as "the Triple Crown."

Each of America's so-called "triple crown" of hiking trails runs in a north-south direction through one of the U.S.'s main mountain ranges (or, in the case of the Pacific Crest Trail, through a series of consecutive mountain ranges).

To thru-hike any of the three "Triple Crown" trails in a single season takes an average long-distance backpacker approximately 5 to 5 1/2 months. Additionally, many hikers attempt to hike one or more of these trails over several years, hiking a few weeks at a time and stringing the completed sections together like pearls on a string.

In total, as of 2011, fewer than 100 people have been awarded the Triple Crown Award, given out by ALDHA-West (the American Long Distance Hiking Association, Western States) to hikers who report completing all three hiking trails, either as single-season through-hikes or multiple-year section hikes.

The Appalachian National Scenic Trail

Trail's End (or Start): Katahdin in Maine

The Appalachian Trail (A.T.) is the oldest and best known of the three trails. The A.T. runs through 14 eastern states, beginning atop Springer mountain in northwest Georgia, and continuing northeast through North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, and finally to Mt. Katahdin, the highest peak in Maine.

Thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail has been an iconic backpacking goal for decades. The number of people reporting having hiked the entire trail is nearing 10,000 as of 2009, in part because of the trail's location in the populated East, and in part because guidebooks and maps of the Appalachian Trail are good and thorough; there are trailside shelters to sleep in, and there is even a thru-hiker culture complete with festivals and traditions. The A.T. receives plenty of publicity. After Bill Bryson's best-selling A Walk in the Woods was published in 1998, interest in backpacking the A.T. exploded.

The Appalachian Trail is currently just under 2,200 miles long (mileage of all three trails changes annually due to relocations, trail work, trail damage from floods and fires, and land purchase decisions). It is sometimes called the "long green tunnel," because mountains in the East rarely rise above treeline. Nonetheless, despite much lower elevations than the western trails, the A.T. boasts some of the most rugged and difficult straight-up-the-mountain-and-straight-back-down-again hiking of any of the three.

The Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail

High Sierra, California

The Pacific Crest Trail begins about 50 miles east of San Diego, near the hamlet of Campo at the Mexican border. It runs the entire length of California (about 1,600 trail miles), as well as Oregon and Washington, for a grand total of 2,650 miles.

Much of the route goes through National Forests and National Parks, with large tracts of wilderness, including the famous Ansel Adams and John Muir Wildernesses, as well as Yosemite, Sequoia, and King's Canyon National Parks. The P.C.T. is marked in its entirety, though not as assiduously as the Appalachian Trail. Difficulties for long distance hikers include early season snow, desert hiking (hot and waterless) in southern California, and a lack of some of the trail amenities enjoyed by Appalachian Trail hikers.

The Continental Divide National Scenic Trail

South San Juan Mountains, Colorado

The "wild child" of the three trails is the Continental Divide, the last of the three to be designated, the longest, and the least complete. The Continental Divide splits America's watersheds, sending eastern slope waters to the Atlantic Ocean and western slope waters to the Pacific. C.D.T. managers hope to situate the trail as close to the actual Continental Divide as is safe and practicable; however, the ruggedness of the topography and the difficulty of working with private landowners frequently dictate that the trail parallels the Divide on one side or the other.

The C.D.T. traverses New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana, passing through a patchwork of National Forests, National Parks, and Bureau of Land Management lands, as well as Indian reservations and private lands. Some of the highlights include the Colorado section, which averages about 11,000 feet in elevation and at times stays astride the Continental Divide for days at a time, and a section of hiking Rocky Mountain National Park trails.. Wyoming's Wind River Range and Yellowstone National Park, and Glacier National Park in Montana are three other C.D.T highlights.

In some sections, particularly in New Mexico, the trail's route has not been officially approved, let alone marked or mapped. So in addition to rugged mountain terrain and weather, and in addition to trying to squeeze some 3,000 miles of hiking into the all-too-short snow-free months of summer and shoulder season, hikers must contend with navigational challenges and hiking cross country.

The three trails are all completely different. What they share is a mammoth challenge, and some of the finest mountain scenery and hiking experiences to be found anywhere.

Lessons From A Walk in the Woods, at Night

2011-08-29T12:38:00.000-07:00

This is a story in which nothing happens. but much could have... and that's what I want to share.

A couple of weeks ago, you would have found me hiking up the Jug End on the Massachusetts Appalachian Trail at 8:30 at night, in the quickly falling dark. I carried a stick I had found on the forest floor to which I had jerry-rigged a battery-operated LED musician's light. (Reason: I hadn't been able to quickly find a headlamp, and I needed to be quick). I was not carrying raingear (it wasn't going to rain) and I wasn't carrying warm clothes (it wasn't cold -- yet, although that would change as the night wore on). I did have an orange and a pint of water in a shoulder pack slung across my back. I had not left a note on my car, and I had left no word at home where I was going. And, if you know the Jug End hike: It's steep and rocky, and here in Massachusetts in August, it's getting dark earlier every day.

So right about now, you are (I hope) wondering: What did she think she was doing, and why the heck am I taking advice on hiking from THIS woman?

The Phone Call: Out in the Woods, No Flashlight, Dark is Falling

Here's what happened: At about 8 p.m., I got a call from an AT thru-hiker who had been planning to stay the night at my house. I was expecting to pick her up at the trail, oh, about two hours earlier, but she was feeling ill, and the trail up on the Taconic Ridge is one of those boulder-strewn ups-and-downs that makes for slow going, even for a fit thru-hiker 1,500 or so miles into the hike. She was calling from her cell from the top of the ridge; she didn't know exactly where she was or when she would be down and dusk was falling. I, on the other hand, knew what lay between the top and the bottom on that section of trail: A couple of miles of steep rocky scramble. And I was worried.

First of all, she was hiking alone. And second, she didn't have her pack: I had "slackpacked" her earlier that morning by meeting her at the trailhead and taking her pack to my house, so she could hike unencumbered for a day. About her equipment, all I knew was that she had a rain jacket, but no flashlight. She certainly didn't have what she needed to spend the night, and with dark falling so quickly, she might not have enough light to get out.

When you're exhausted and it's dark, the descent off Jug End is about the last place on the entire Massachusetts AT you want to be. So I said I'd drive over to the trail (It's about five minutes from my house) and start hiking up to meet her, hoping that at least some light would help that last little bit, when it would be really and truly dark.

How to Make a Hiking Light

Well, my hiking stuff is in total disarray at the moment: I know where my boots are, and that's about it. I'm not the most organized of people at the best of times, but my hiking stuff was recently displaced by a renovation project; in the current disarray, no way was I going to be able to find a headlamp quickly (let alone a working one with the right sized batteries). And as luck would have it, our house flashlights are currently all suffering some type of flashlight illness... dead batteries, rusty contact points, etc. So I grabbed the one light I did have handy: a four-LED-bulb musician's performance light, with a clip-on base and twisty wires that can adjust where the light falls. And I headed out.

Driving over there, I couldn't help but notice how quickly night was falling, and how very dark the woods looked. I parked at the trail head, and headed up, and immediately realized how stupid I'd been to take pretty much nothing with me. (Of course, the fact that I couldn't find anything quickly was part of the problem there). I especially missed my walking sticks, which I'd simply forgotten -- they live right by the front door, so there's no excuse for that. But trail magic is pretty reliable, and an obliging hiker had left a perfect stick right on the trail. I clipped the base of the musician's light to it, and wrapped the wires around its prongs it to help keep the light steady.

But I didn't turn it on: There was a full moon, and I've found with night-hiking that your eyes can often adjust. Until you really need artificial light, you can be better off without it. Although it was dark, I could pretty much feel the trail underfoot; every once in a while I caught a glimpse of white blazes, which seemed to briefly catch the moonlight through the pines. I made sure I always noted where the blazes were, because it's easy to wander off the AT. However, luck was with me again, as this part of the trail is frequently marked. Plus it's on a pretty steep ridge, which means it's hard to wander off trail. There isn't really anywhere else to go.

Night-Hiking

It was actually a nice walk: Perfect temperature, clear night, no bugs, quiet and peaceful. I settled into a moderate rest step, and climbed about half an hour before it got too dark to pick out the blazes anymore. All the while I was wondering just what exactly I thought I was doing: If the hiker had been injured, I wasn't carrying anything useful except for water and an orange. The most I'd be able to do would be go back down for help. Or, I could get myself into trouble in the dark and become a second problem for someone else to solve. I walked carefully, and slowed down on the rocky bits. I had deliberately not left a note at home because I didn't want to worry my partner. That was (very) arguably a dumb move, but my partner isn't a hiker, and I didn't want him freaking out and calling the volunteer fire brigade just because it was dark. It seemed like a good reason at the time, but as I continued uphill, it started sounding dumber and dumber, even in my own mind.

Finally, after I'd been walking close to a half an hour, It was fully dark. When I could no longer see any hint of a blaze, I turned the light on, and shone it up the mountain, hoping it could be seen from above. Sure enough, I heard a yell, from quite a ways up. I resisted the temptation to call out "Dr. Livingstone, I presume" and continued the climb.

When we met, my friend was relieved; she'd been thinking of simply sitting down and waiting for me, but she didn't know how far she still had to go, or how long it would take me to get to her, or how cold it would be by then. We walked back down together, me carrying the light above both of us like a camera man's lighting assistant. We looked ridiculous.

And that was that: No drama, no real problems. It may have been another 20 minutes till we got back to the truck. We drove home, ate a lot of food, and slept.

Lessons From a Non-Event

But I thought this little story of a non-disaster worth sharing because it has an alternate ending. Rain, which would have made the descent frankly dangerous. A fall. One, or both of us, getting lost off trail. It did get cold later that night, cold enough that the tree frogs stopped yammering. Cold enough that a stranded hiker might have become hypothermic.

Bad luck can happen, even to a thru-hiker with thousands of miles of experience. And I wasn't exactly being Ms. Brilliant Outdoors Educator by choosing to head up the mountain quickly, rather than stopping to try to find some gear. It seemed like the right thing to do -- to try and get myself and my light up the mountain as far and fast as possible. It turned out to be the right choice... but it might not have been.

It takes smarts to learn from your own experiences. It takes real brilliance to learn from other people's disasters. But it takes something else -- perhaps imagination -- to learn from what could have happened to someone else -- and didn't. Not to say "Well, everything worked out and was great" but "What can I learn from what didn't happen."

Please imagine.

As for us: I'm pretty sure next time my friend slackpacks, there's going to be a headlamp in her daypack. For my part, it wouldn't hurt to have a first aid kit and a little daypack containing the ten essentials on hand. Plus fresh batteries.

As it turned out, we had a power outage in the house that night .... and the piano light, still tied to the make-shift walking stick, was pressed into service again.

GR-5 Across Europe: Best Long Hikes in the World Series

2011-08-17T09:02:00.000-07:00

The windmills of Holland, the WW II battlefields of Belgium, the vineyards of France, and the highest peaks of western Europe are just a few of the attractions of the GR-5, which runs from the North Sea to the Mediterranean. "GR," or “Grande Randonee" means "Great Hike" in French, an apt description for a trail that traverses Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg, and France, with short detours into Switzerland and Italy.

The Low Countries: Hiking the GR-5 in the Netherlands, Belgium, and Luxembourg

The Dutch section of the trail is, in a word, flat. Much of the route is through settled suburbs and farmland, with pleasant, easy hiking across beaches and parkland, making this a better choice for walkers more interested in culture and towns than in wilderness. Although many urban Dutch people are fluent in English, rural residents are less likely to speak English, and a phrasebook comes in handy.

GR 5 in Belgium

Belgium is divided into Flanders, which is the Dutch (or Flemish) speaking side, and Wallonie, the French-speaking side. Many Belgians speak English as a second language. The terrain in Flanders is hillier than in the Netherlands, and has a more rural feel. The route passes a number of World War I and II battlefields, including some bunkers. Every village has a war memorial listing the names of the dead. History buffs should explore some of the local museums. The route becomes even more rural in Wallonie, where the hills get bigger, and more of the trail winds through forests and fields.

Luxembourg is a compressed country with an astonishing variety of landscapes, from World War II battlefields, medieval castles, sunny vineyards, and bucolic farms. There is a section of limestone cliffs and ravines that have earned the name Little Switzerland. Tails are well-maintained and marked. In the trailside towns, hikers will find interesting side trips to museums and monuments, and a cuisine that combines French style with German heft.

Hiking the GR-5 in France, Switzerland, and Italy

In France, walkers follow the GR-5 through Lorraine, Alsace, the High Alps, and the Maritime Alps. It occasionally darts into Switzerland and Italy.

In Lorraine, the GR-5 alternates between forests and heavily settled areas with a gritty working class feel. This was, after all, the heavily industrialized region of France coveted by Hitler, and the trail actually passes the fortifications of the historic Maginot Line. Residents are friendly to Americans, especially the elderly, who are happy to share family stories of World War II.

The GR 5 in the French Vosges Mountains

Next door, Alsace is more attractive to tourists with its riverside vineyards, pretty villages, and the Vosges Mountains. This region has a long history of merged France-Germanic culture; a side visit to Strasbourg is a must, as is a much more sobering visit to the Stuthof Nazi concentration camp, which is right along the trail.

After traversing the Vosges, the trail follows the the Swiss-French border near Lake Geneva. Hikers cross the lake by ferry and ascend into Switzerland for a few days. The trail then returns to France and skirts Mt. Blanc, the highest peak in western Europe. In the high Alps, hikers enjoy generally mild weather (although it can snow, even in summer) and a system of high country refuges that provides lodging and family-style meals. Walking south along the Italian border into the drier, starker Maritime Alps, hikers see scenery that combines Alpine drama with Mediterranean vegetation. Best of all, the crowds are thinner here than in the High Alps to the North.

The GR-5 can be hiked in its entirety in three to four months, depending on your hiking speed and your interest in exploring the small towns along the route. Or it can be broken into shorter journeys. It is well-blazed for its entire length, and described and mapped in a series of topoguides, some of which are available in English.

The French and Spanish Pyrenees: Best Long Hikes in the World Series

2011-08-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

The Pyrenees Mountains of northern Spain and southwestern France offer an unparalleled summer mountain hiking experience. Virtually every day features jaw-dropping views (along with muscle-straining climbs.) And the towns and villages of the Pyrenees are picturesque rest-stops with food that well rewards the effort. (Don't forget to try Basque chicken and Cassoulet, the latter a hearty bean dish suitable for a hiker's appetite.)

For their entire length, the Pyrenees follow the border between France and Spain, running from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea. Although lower in elevation than the Alps, the Pyrenees are extremely steep and dramatically serrated. As a result hiking trails in the Pyrenees are both challenging and scenic.

Three major trails traverse the French and Spanish Pyrenees: The Grand Randonnee 10 (GR-10), the Grand Randonnee 11 (GR-11) and the Haute Route Pyrennean (HRP). There's a lot of scenery compressed into these approximately 50-day hikes. (Figure around 600 miles of up-and-down-and-around-the-mountain hiking, although no one seems to know exactly.)

Hiking Routes in the Pyrenees Mountains

A campsite in the Haute Pyrenees

The GR-10 (Grande Randonnee 10) is the most popular route across the Pyrenees. It runs on the French side of the border. Of the three main trans-Pyrenees routes, the GR-10 is the best-blazed and the easiest to follow. However, while easiest logistically, it is physically difficult because the trail on the French side of the Pyrenees gets much more rain than the Spanish side, so the weather is more challenging. Also, the GR-10 is more demanding than the two others because of the long and steep descents and ascents into and out of the many precipitous north-south running valleys on the French side of the mountains. However, the GR-10 does offer the possibility of sleeping in a town or a refuge every night, reducing or eliminating the need to carry camping gear.
The GR-11 (Grande Randonnee 11) follows the French system of blazing and numbering, but it runs through the Spanish Pyrenees, on the south side of the border. The route is not thoroughly blazed, and can sometimes be difficult to follow, but it is extremely beautiful, and can be crowded, especially in the popular Spanish national parks.While more difficult logistically, it is perhaps less physically difficult than both the High Level Route and the GR-10, although very few people hike the entire GR-11 from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.
HRP (Haute Route Pyrenean) is the High Adventure Route, which stays in the highest, most remote country as much as possible. It is usually blazed in yellow, although it sometimes follows the red-and-white blazed GR-10 or the GR-11. It goes through the middle of Andorra, the tiny country that occupies a small part of the Franc-Spanish border. When hiking in the remote central part of the Pyrenees on the HRP, hikers must carry all their camping gear, because towns and refuges are too far apart. Route finding is the major challenge, as the blazing is sporadic.

In all three cases, trail quality varies. The routes include paved roads, farm-roads, footpaths, and cross-country travel (mostly on the HRP). The Pyrenees are precipitous, and many of the trails are very steep, which reduces the number of miles it is possible to hike in a day.

Seasonal Information for Hiking in the Pyrenees

Crossing a snowfield in August

cause of the high elevations, thru-hiking the trail is a July-August venture. Part of the trails near both coasts have a longer hiking season - June to September, and indeed, may be more pleasant in late spring and early fall because they won't be as hot. In the Basque country near the Atlantic Ocean, weather can be hot and humid. Near the Mediterranean, the climate is hot and dry. In between, in the higher mountains, the weather is extremely variable, with potentially violent electrical storms. At the higher elevations, there may be patches of snow, but ice axes and crampons are not usually necessary in summer.

Most thru-hikers hike from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, although the trail can certainly be hiked in both directions. A complete traverse takes about 50 days.

I'll post a few more articles in the next couple of weeks that give information about guidebooks, gear, and shelters for the Pyrenees, so check back.

Colorado's Continental Divide Trail: Best Long Hikes in the World Series

2011-08-12T07:50:00.000-07:00

Rocky Mountain High. If you want to see a sea of mountains for as far as the horizon goes, there's no better place than Colorado's Continental Divide National Scenic Trail -- all 800 miles of it, which run approximately 800 miles from the New Mexico border to the Wyoming border. It's part of the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail, but as a summer-long hike, it stands alone. At an average elevation of more than 11,000 feet, it also rises far above the rest of the C.D.T.

The C.D.T. is one of 11 long-distance trails in America's National Scenic Trails System, and one of the three so-called “Triple Crown Trails” (The other two are the Appalachian Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail Continental Divide). The Colorado C.D.T. contains the Continental Divide's highest peaks, along with some of its most remote wildernesses and most spectacular mountain scenery.

Primarily a hiking and horseback riding trail, the Colorado C.D.T. also offers recreational opportunities to llama trekkers, cross country skiers and snow-shoers (in winter, of course), dayhikers, and campers. In some multiple use areas, hikers also share the trail (or dirt roads the trail occasionally follows) with mountain bikes, and, less often, with ATVs and four-wheel-drive vehicles.

Regardless of the type of recreation, the Colorado Continental Divide poses challenges. Its elevations occasionally soar above 13,000 feet, and the entire trail averages more than 11,000 feet in elevation, making it the longest high trail in the United States. It is also remote: In some wilderness areas, such as the Weminuche in the San Juan Mountains, or the Mt. Zirkel Wilderness in northern Colorado, the trail doesn’t even cross a road for days at a time. Hikers, riders, and other users must therefore be competent outdoorspeople, with the judgment and experience to deal with high country obstacles such as ice and snow (even in summer), bad weather, and route-finding difficulties.

Routefinding Tips for the Colorado Continental Divide

Bring a guidebook. Two are available. Colorado’s s Continental Divide Trail: The Official Guide by Tom Lorang Jones (Westcliffe Publishers) is on heavy paper and contains beautiful photos, but it hasn’t been updated in 10 years. The less glamorous Colorado C.D.T. Guidebooks (two volumes) by Jim Wolf, from the Continental Divide Trail Society, are meticulously researched and contain recent supplements and updates. And, at less than half the weight of the Westcliffe book, they fit better in a backpack.

In addition, bring a GPS and maps. Topographic maps from the U.S.G.S show the most detail. In wilderness areas, where the trail is well-marked and follows existing and maintained pathways, the Forest Service maps are often adequate. Map packs are available from the Continental Divide Trail Society.

Safety Concerns on Colorado’s Continental Divide Trail

Weather is the main safety concern on the Colorado Continental Divide. Colorado afternoons are famous for their thunderstorms, and treeline is sometimes a thousand or more feet below the trail. Be flexible in planning, and try to stay off of exposed ridges by mid-afternoon. The safest place is low down, in a protected group of trees. Caves, rock outcroppings, and solitary trees do not offer protection; to the contrary, they are more likely to attract lightning.

Ice and snow can also be hazards on the Continental Divide, particularly for travelers making their way into the mountains early in the season, when the winter’s snow has not yet melted. Bringing an ice ax and crampons (or, at least, in-step crampons) can help hikers get safely around late-lingering icefields. In a heavy snow year, horseback riders will have to take lower alternate routes, or ride later in the season. Generally, the high country is clear by late June or early July, but snowfall can vary widely.

Typical mountain clothing rules apply: Be prepared for four season’s worth of weather in any one day (although it usually won’t snow in July, it can drop into the 30s, with hail and wind.) Bring several layers of wicking clothing, insulating clothing, a hat, and rain gear. Avoid cotton.

Finally, don’t count on cell-phone reception: Much of the Colorado Continental Divide Trail is too remote for reception, or the signals are blocked by mountains. Give someone at home an itinerary, and sign in at trailheads where registration boxes or permit stations are in place. The information can help rangers locate a hiker in case of an emergency.

The Colorado Continental Divide Trail offers an unparalleled opportunity to stay at high elevations for days at a time. But, as with any alpine hiking or adventure activity, attention to weather, route-finding, and ice and snow hazards will help ensure a safe trip and a memorable mountain experience.

Annapurna Circuit: Best Long Hikes in the World Series

2011-08-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

I'm going to jump around the world in this series. Keep things interesting. Nepal is about as far away from here as you can get, and the Annapurna Trek is one of that country's iconic treks.

The Annapurna Trek is about a three-week trip that basically circles around the Annapurna Massif. These peaks are among the world's highest mountains, and Annapurna I is one of the world's classic 8,000-meter climbs.

Logistically, this is an easy trek to arrange. From Kathmandu, you take a bus to Besishahar. From there, it's a two-hour drive on one of the world's worst roads to Syanje, where the trail actually starts. (You can also walk it; plan for a full day). Negotiating passage on a truck or four-wheel drive vehicle is generally possible because trekkers are a big part of the economy here. The details, while not exactly controllable (ours involved a drunk driver and a vehicle that had a slight problem keeping the engine running), do seem to fall into place, at least in hindsight.

The general contour of the trek is to circle the massif counterclockwise by going upriver, trekking across a plateau, and then going downriver. (That summary is kind of like saying the Empire State Building is a building somewhere in New York.) The route begins with an ascent of the Marshyangdi River valley, with views of Manashlu and Himal Chuli. The trek rises from rice fields and forests to scruffier subalpine vegetation, following the same pedestrian routes of travel used by villagers. There are no roads.

The trek then veers west, to the Manang Valley, a windswept, sandy, rocky, avalanche strewn landscape inhabited by Tibetan Buddists. This is part of the Tibetan plateau, and indeed, Tibet is just over the mountain range to the north. The trail then crosses the Thorong La ("La" means Pass), which at 17,800 feet is the highest point on the trail. After Thorong La, trekkers descend to the pilgrimage site of Muktinath, then continue down the Kali Ghandaki Valley, the world's deepest gorge, with jaw-dropping views of the fierce-looking Dhaulagiri. This part of the trek can be done as a smaller subsection by flying into Jomson then trekking down-valley: With many guesthouses and restaurants, it's come to be known as the Apple Pie Trek.

Buying last minute equipment en route.

Traditionally, trekkers stay in the small villages along the route. If you've booked a commercial guided expedition, you'll probably be staying in tents pitched for you by your porters. If you're on a private independent trek, you can carry (or hire porters to carry) tents, or you can stay in tea-houses along the way. The majority of trekkers hire porters to carry their gear. This makes the trekking easier, and porters hired independently (as opposed to pre-paid commercial expeditions) cost only about $10 - $15 US a day, depending on the trek. A guide might cost $15 to $25 a day, and he can help negotiate transport and stays at tea houses, give you cultural insights, and help with route finding and logistics on the more remote routes.

If you do book porters and guides independently, check their high altitude equipment: Many do not have adequate equipment (sunglasses, boots, warm jackets, hats), and won't let you know until you are dependent on them, in a remote village, where some equipment may be available for sale from enterprising locals at a high prices (which you, as the employer, will be expected to pay). Also be aware that they will expect tips. Going on strike in Nepal is a time-honored porter tradition: A commercial expedition costs far more than an independently arranged one, but avoids this hassle.

Another concern for all trekkers in Nepal is hygiene and health. Arriving in Nepal after having spent several months in East Africa, after having spent another several months on America's Continental Divide Trail, I thought my resistance was up to snuff. Not so: I was flattened by severe stomach trouble within a day of my arrival. Living and hygiene conditions can be, quite simply, life-threatening in Nepal, which has one of the lowest life expectancies in the world. Use every food caution you've ever heard of and then some, from opening your own soda bottles to using your own utensils and never eating anything raw. Our pampered western immune systems simply aren't tough enough for the bugs they'll encounter here.

In the Annapurna Sanctuary

The final issue is altitude sickness. The typical schedules offered by the guidebooks and the itineraries followed by the trekking companies give plenty of time to acclimate to the high elevations. If you're trekking on your own, don't try to rush this part: The elevations are frankly dangerous, and to be safe, you've got to follow the rules.

A final alternative is to extend the 19 - 21 day circuit with another week of trekking into the Annapurna Sanctuary itself. This takes you to the all-white world of the mountaineer, and you can stay overnight at Annapurna Base Camp. If you're coming all this way, it is absolutely worth the additional time.

Nepal is not an easy destination: The entirely different culture, the hygienic problems, the sometimes limited food choices, the Sanskrit alphabet, the unfamiliar religious customs which foreigners should respect but may not understand.... all of this leads to a feeling of what the French call depayse: being out of one's element. But the dramatic beauty of the highest mountains of earth is worth every possible traveler's travail. Among the highlights were the views of 7,000 and 8,000 meter peaks, the climb to nearly 18,000 feet, the stark whiteness to the Annapurna Sanctuary, the emerald green of the rice fields, the rhododendron forests in bloom, the sky-piercing point of Machapuchare, and the sheer power of the raging rivers that drain the snowmelt and the remnants of avalanches. All of which, added together, put this trek securely among the top hikes in the world.

Appalachian Trail: Best Long Hikes in the World Series

2011-08-10T07:51:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to start a series of articles about great long hikes for a long time, so here goes. And if you're going to talk about long hikes, then as far as I'm concerned, you HAVE to start with the Appalachian Trail. It's the great-granddaddy of the long-distance hiking movement, coming up on a century old, and it has an iconic status in the hiking world that is, quite simple, unassailable.

Maine's Mighty Katahdin, the Northern Terminus

Let's get the numbers out of the way.

14 states (from Georgia to Maine).
It takes between 4 and 6 months to hike the whole thing, depending on how fast you go.
As of today's writing, according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, which manages the trail, 11,823 people have completed the entire trail from end to end.
The youngest was a six-year old boy; the oldest a 71-year old woman (An 80 year woman is the oldest section hiker; ie, person to complete the entire trail in a series of sections hiked over several years).
Approximately 25 percent of thru-hikers are women.
The trail encompasses some 250,000 acres of public land.
It runs for nearly 2,200 miles. (The precise length keeps changing due to slight locations to move the trail to better routings as they become available through easements, or to respond to storm damage.)

What is interesting to me is the head-and-shoulders dominance of the Appalachian Trail as a long-distance hiking destination. Since 2000, Some 600 hikers a year complete the trail -- out of 2,000 - 3,000 starters. Compare this to the several hundred to who attempt the Pacific Crest Trail -- and the few dozen who actually succeed. The ATC estimates that some 2 - 3 million people hike on the trail each year, making it one of America's most popular national parklands.Yet you can still find yourself totally alone with nature.

There's no question that other trails are higher, have more stunning scenery, spend more time above treeline, have more variety... but it's the AT that draws the hikers.

Appalachian Trail Basic Geography and Terrain

A few points about the AT if you're considering hiking a chunk of it. (And thru-hikers: Check this article about basic Appalachian Trail thru-hiking information; it's the beginning of a series for thur-hikers):

The trail can be roughly divided into four sections: The South (Georgia, North Carolina, and Tennessee), Virginia (along with West Virginia and Maryland), the mid-Atlantic states (Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York), and New England (Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine).

Southern Terminus Marker at Springer Mountain

The South has the highest mountains (although none of them poke above treeline, as they do in New Hampshire and Maine), along with a variety of terrain, from easy rambles to straight up and down scrambles. The Great Smokey Mountains National Park is a good starting point for beginners, with a combination of well-marked and maintained trails and spectacular mountain landscapes.

Virginia is possibly the easiest of the four sections, with sections of trail that are downright gentle. Thru-hikers typically hike about 20 miles a day here (or more).This section's highlights in include Shenandoah National Park and the Mt. Rogers, which has dramatic open mountain terrain and wild ponies.

The "Long Green Tunnel"

The mid-Atlantic section may be where the trail got its nickname, the "Long Green Tunnel." But although the elevations are low, that doesn't necessarily make for easy trail: Pennsylvania is called "Rocksylvania" because of the rocky glacial debris left all over the place. The New Jersey section is surprsingly wild and beautiful: It starts at Interstate 80, and immediately climbs past lovely Sunfish Pond, which is a glacial tarn. The trail then hugs ridges covered with mountain laurel. New York boasts the oldest miles of trail, in Bear Mountain State Park, and the lowest elevations (at the Bear Mountain Zoo), but there are lots of what hikers call "PUDs" (pointless ups and downs; for more thru-hiker lingo, check out the AT lingo post) which add up to enormous elevation gains and losses.

Autumn in New Hampshire

In New England, the trail just gets prettier and prettier. The Connecticut and Massachusetts sections are varied, from the riverbeds of the Housatonic to the rocky outcrops of the Berkshire ridges. In southern Vermont, the AT is contiguous with the Long Trail before it veers east to new Hampshire and Maine where the trail finally breaks free on treeless mountain summits, navigates hiking trail that at times resembles rock climbing more than hiking (mileage goes WAY down here), then ambles through Maine's so-called "100-Mile wilderness" and ends in glory atop Katahdin.

A Community in the Wilderness

An Appalachian Trail Shelter

If the Appalachian Trail were merely all that... the long mileage, the 14 states, the thousands of mountains ... it would be remarkable, but there is another aspect to it: The trail community, which encompasses the thru-hikers, the day-hikers, the weekenders, the volunteers, the managers, the townspeople, the hostel owners, the shelters where hikers cluster together, and the hiking alumni who show up for trail festivals or to dispense a bit of 'trail magic" -- taking hikers home, giving them a bit of a trail vacation.

And all this takes place within a few hours' drive of most of the East Coast metropoli. You can actually see New York City from the trail (atop West Mountain, in New York), and take a train in on the commuter line, which stops at the eponymous Appalachian Trail station. Benton MacKaye, the trail's founder, envisioned the trail as a place for respite, recreation, and rejuvenation from a American's increasingly urban environment. He envisioned communities visiting these rural areas, linked by a trail: staying a farms and in the forests, creating a sort of wilderness community. His utopian vision didn't quite come to fruit as he intended, but instead morphed into a trail community that in its own way does what he envisioned: provide a chance to reconnect with nature in a profound and rejuvenating way.

And that, I think is the crux of what makes this trail so special. The number of people who hike it, the volunteers who maintain it, the trail shelters where hikers gather and sleep, the trail festivals that have sprung up in communities along the route: All of these have created something more than a mere hiking trail. The AT is a community in the wilderness: Two ideas that don't go together.

Biologists tell us that the richest areas in an ecosystem are the places where two different types of communities come together: forest and marsh, lake and prairie, sand dune and salt marsh. In such places, ecological communities support the species of each overlapping ecosystem, as well as a few species unique to the intersection. That, I think, is the magic of the Appalachian Trail: In the juxtaposition of community and wilderness, we find something unique: part wild, part civilized -- and entirely magical.

Blisters: How to Prevent and Treat Them

2011-08-08T20:28:00.000-07:00

Blisters: I admit that I'm a bit of a nutcase on this subject. New hikers worry about big-ticket dangers like bears, rattlesnakes, and lightening strikes, but for me, the prosaic truth is that far more hikes are ruined because of blisters. What starts as a tiny, innocuous hot spot that can easily be ignored can quickly turn into a blister that concentrates all the pain of all the world under your foot, one step at a time. Or at least, that's what it feels like.

Fortunately, it's possible to prevent blisters with a little attention and care.

Pre-Hike Preparation and Boots Choices That Help Backpackers Prevent Blisters

Don’t go overboard on heavy footwear. Because of the lightweight backpacking movement pioneered by long-distance hikers, today’s backpacking and hiking gear is lighter and less cumbersome than yesterday’s equipment. You may not need boots! You almost certainly don't need the stiff all-leather support of a waffle-stomping five-pound boot. For day hikes in temperate climates, lightweight trekking shoes are perfectly adequate, and for longer trips, most backpackers choose either trekking shoes or lightweight boots made of a combination of leather and lighter-weight fabric. Both choices cause fewer blisters than heavy leather boots because they are more flexible and better ventilated.
Make sure shoes or boots fit. especially when buying new boots, go to an outfitter that specializes in outdoor gear. It is much more likely that the staff is properly trained to fit boots. After the purchase, wear them at home around the house to double-check the fit. Boots can usually be returned as long as they haven’t been worn outside.
Break in boots and shoes. New boots (and even new trekking shoes) should be broken in by taking short “training hikes." This is especially important for people who don’t ordinarily wear hard or stiff shoes (in which case the training hike may be more a matter of breaking in feet than breaking in boots). Training walks should include at least a little bit of uphill and downhill, as boots flex differently and feel different on slopes than they do on the flats.
Check the fit and feel of old boots, too. The boots that felt so comfy on last year’s hike may feel stiff and hard after a year in an attic store-room, or when reintroduced to feet that haven’t hiked in a while. Old boots can be treated with boot conditioner or saddle soap, and a quick training hike to reintroduce boots to feet won’t hurt, either.

How Hikers Can Prevent Blisters on the Trail

Protect the trouble spots. Most hikers know from painful experience where they are likely to get blisters. Common spots are the back of the heel, and around the sides or tips of toes. Pre-treat these spots by protecting them with a Band-Aid or a piece of Moleskin.
Wear wicking socks. Fabrics such as polypropylene wick moisture away from the skin, which helps prevent blisters. A cushier outer sock, made of wool, fleece, or a synthetic combination provides a bit of padding. Wear both, even with lightweight trekking shoes. Avoid cotton socks, which absorb moisture and contribute to blistering.
Take it easy! Especially on backpacking trips, it pays to start slowly. Don’t over-do the mileage, and pack as lightly as possible. Stop every once in a while to rest, and on long breaks, wash feet in cool water and let them air out a bit.
Listen to complaining feet. A hot spot can be caused by a pebble, grass-seeds, bits of dirt or sand, or even a wrinkle in the sock. It is easily ignored, especially if a hiker feels pressed to keep walking by a partner who doesn’t want to stop. But stopping to treat a hot spot is the number one thing hikers can do to prevent blisters from forming – and waiting too long to treat these hot spots is the number one cause of unnecessary blisters.
Treat hot spots. A piece of Moleskin can protect a hot spot and prevent it from becoming a blister. If the hot spot is painful or a blister has started to form, treat it with Spenco’s Second Skin. This dressing, available in pharmacies, is a gel-like layer that acts as a protective coating. Fix it into place with athletic tape, which should be in a first aid kit. (This type of tape has the best adhesion, and stays on even when feet get damp and sweaty.)

Once a blister forms, it can take weeks to completely heal, especially if the area continues to be irritated. On backpacking trips, blisters are especially subject to infection and to being exacerbated by continued pressure. By attending to these simple preventative steps, hikers, whether on long-distance trails or short day-hikes, can avoid this common, painful – but usually preventable – problem.

Volunteer Vacations on HIking Trails

2011-08-02T10:24:00.000-07:00

AT shelters are usually built by volunteers.

Ever wonder who makes and maintains the hundreds of thousands of miles of hiking trails that criss-cross America's backcountry? Without volunteers, hikers on America's trails would have far fewer miles to trek, or would spend all their time fighting to get through blowdowns, trudging through nettles and poison ivy, and slogging through bogs and mud puddles. Volunteer vacations offer a chance to get outdoors, work on a worthwhile project, and meet like-minded people. And in a difficult economy, they also offer an affordable outdoor experience.

Where to Find Volunteer Work Trips and Vacations for Hikers

National Forests, National Parks, BLM, state and county lands, and, especially, wilderness areas (where laws dictate that all trail work be done with hand tools) use volunteers to do a variety of jobs. Long-distance hiking trails are largely maintained by volunteers, who spend thousands of hours doing everything from putting together newsletters to building bridges to clearing brush and blowdowns.

Major trail organizations such as the Appalachian Trail Conference, the Pacific Crest Trail Association, and the Continental Divide Trail Alliance have well-organized trail maintenance programs. Members of the Appalachian Long Distance Hikers Association support regular maintenance projects, as do members of the Appalachian Mountain Club and the Colorado trail Society. To find a complete list, check out the American Hiking Society, which offers what may be the best vacation deal around: For a registration fee of about $80 (which usually covers meals), you get to join one of more than 100 work trips in 27 states - the "vacations" range from four days to two weeks. The Student Conservation Association also runs volunteer maintenance trips for teens.

How to Choose a Volunteer Trail Vacation

Some trail maintenance jobs require specialized skills in carpentry or construction, but many trips offer the opportunity to learn on the job. There are also jobs just about anyone can do, like hauling supplies and clipping vegetation.

Consider the difficulty of a trip. Cutting trail at 12,000 feet in the Rocky Mountains five miles from the nearest trailhead requires that volunteers be fit enough to hike those miles at that altitude - and then work. The Continental Divide Trail Alliance, for example, rates the level of difficulty with one shovel, two shovels, or three shovels; hikers signing up for a three-shovel trip should be sure they are in shape to handle the demands.

Types of Volunteer Jobs on HIking Trails

Trail construction. This can include building and maintaining lean-tos, bridges, and information kiosks, installing trail signs, and building water bars and stone steps.
Trail clearing. Anyone can clear trail. Trimming shrubbery, removing deadfall from ice storms, and cutting overhanging branches are jobs that don't require specialized skills, but provide a crucial service in keeping trails open.
Maintaining a trail shelter. Hike in to a shelter, then sweep it out, pack out litter, clean out the fire ring, and make minor repairs.
Packing supplies in. On western trails, packhorses can be used to haul heavy supplies. Trail organizations welcome inquiries from horse and mule owners willing to assist with this job.
Cooking for a trail crew. Hikers who like to entertain will get enormous satisfaction you'll get from cooking for a crew that's spent an entire day building a trail - and building up an appetite.

Whether volunteers install rock walls, build a cabin, or paint blazes on trees, they soon learn that there is a tremendous amount of satisfaction in helping keep America's trails open. And they take proprietary pride in the trails they have worked on.

Leave-no-Trace Trekking in Nepal

2011-08-01T15:39:00.000-07:00

We all know that tourism can have benefits for local cultures, especially if the economic infrastructure is set up in a way that provides good jobs (and training for even better jobs) and sources products locally. But there is a careful balance to be maintained: Too many tourists can shift the balance and cause harm, as well as good. Such is the case in Nepal. Trekking on Nepal's famous routes such as the Mt. Everest Trek or the Annapurna Circuit are on the life-list of many adventure travelers. That means crowds. Both the fragile alpine environment and subsistence culture are vulnerable to damage from tourism.

Environmental Issues for Trekkers in Nepal

High Country is Harsh and Fragile

The high altitude and alpine environment of most of Nepal's trekking areas, such as the popular Annapurna Circuit and Everest Trek, makes these regions extremely vulnerable to pollution and overuse. Surprisingly, guided groups may actually have less impact than unguided independent trekkers, especially if the groups are run in an environmentally responsible manner.

Take cooking fuel as seemingly small, but important, issue. Environmentally responsible groups bring in their own cooking fuel, rather than relying on wood. In contrast, food prepared for independent trekkers is often cooked on wood-burning stoves, which contributes to deforestation -- a major problem in these fragile alpine areas. Cut-rate tours arranged in the back-alley outfitters of Kathmandu may not adhere to the same environmental standards as groups run by established tour agencies. When arranging a trek, ask about environmental issues and insist that minimum standards be met.

Waste is another problem. Some popular sections of trails are strewn with waste, including toilet paper. The same leave-no-trace rules you follow at home should be followed on Nepal's trails: Pack out all batteries and plastic waste, and as much as possible, all other trash. In the dry cold air of high altitudes, it takes a long time for anything to decompose, and this includes those pink "flowers" of TP. Dispose of toilet paper by burning it, disposing of it in outhouses when they are available, or leaving it in a toilet refilled with earth - anything to be sure it won't resurface as litter.

Here are a few other tips.

Annapurna Sanctuary

If camping with a group, share a toilet pit, and fill it in so no trace remains after use. It should be at least 100 feet from a stream or river.
There is no way to dispose of or recycle plastic water bottles in the remote villages. Instead of buying bottled water, use a purifier.
The widely available local staple food, dal bhat, is a combination of lentils and rice (and sometimes vegetables). It places fewer burdens on local villagers to produce this meal, as the ingredients are available locally.
Wash with bio-degradable soaps -- again, not near a stream or river.

Cultural Issues for Trekkers in Nepal

For us tourists, the chance to interact with another culture is a precious one, and it can be hard to see that we can be doing harm when we visit a village, give presents to children, and photograph sacred sites. But too many tourists, even well-meaning ones, can place stress on indigenous and subsistence cultures. A society that has functioned on its own for centuries can find itself suddenly dependent on tourist dollars. Western values may erode cultural norms. To lessen impact:

Nepal’s' culture is very religious, combining aspects of Buddhism and Hinduism. Always walk to the right side of the many mani walls (walls with carvings found alongside the trails), or counterclockwise around stupas and monuments. This ensures that no matter which way you go, when you return, you will make a full circle.
Resist the urge to give gifts to begging children. Begging undermines a culture. Those who wish to help can give a package of pens to a local school, share some food, or make a donation through one of the many aid agencies in Kathmandu. Himalayan Rescue Association is a worthy cause, as it provides medical aid to rural Nepali villagers and mounts an altitude sickness prevention education program for trekkers.
Hire porters. This is at traditional way of trekking in Nepal, and is a way of contributing to the economy without giving alms or undermining the culture: Trekkers pay for work performed. The cost is minimal (around $7 US a day), and the positive impact is huge.
Ask guides about the appropriate behavior at shrines and religious sites.
Ask people before photographing them; they aren't objects.

By following these simple precepts, visitors can help ensure they are following the Leave-no-Trace edict of taking only pictures, leaving only footprints.

How Wilderness Stories Become Wilderness Skills

2011-07-30T20:15:00.000-07:00

When I was nine, my father, one of my sisters, and I went on a family vacation in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It was the first time I stayed in a hotel. I saw the "Old Man of the Mountains," which was then the state symbol and is now a pile of rubble and rock dust. I rode the cog railway. I crawled around the boulders of the Lost River, shivered in the frigid waters of Echo Lake, and marveled at the dank, mossy canyons of the Flume. And in the summit house atop Mt. Washington, I saw, for the first time, the list of names of all the people who had died in the Presidential Range.

Fall in the White Mountains

The tour guide told us the story of Lizzie Bourne, who in 1885 died of exposure only a few hundred yards from safety at the summit house. Standing outside by the memorial plaque, near a giant cairn marked with the white blazes of the Appalachian Trail, I wondered, how could you stand and die HERE, when safety was just over THERE?

And then clouds swirled round and the fog drifted in, a blue day turned gray, and cold, and damp, and in the sting of a bitter wind, I suddenly caught a glimmer of understanding.

That list on Mt. Washington keeps growing, and so do the stories. Hikers and skiers: Dead from falls, hypothermia, avalanches. Killed by the unrelenting chill of winter. Killed by a summer storm. Killed by a simple mis-step, or a whole mountain of snow collapsing on top of them. Killed, sometimes, by ignorance or hubris or the simple inability to understand or imagine the brutal, stark finality when Nature runs amok.

They are stories we need to hear.

I was reminded of that just recently, when I read a blog post about a hiker dying in Glacier National Park. It's called "You Just Never Know," and it's true: You just don't. A fine day, a photogenic view, a fatal fall. Final.

Fog on Mt. Kenya

For the most part, hikers go in and out of the mountains without incident. For all the potential dangers that are out there (and there are plenty of them) the mountains rarely release their fury. And even when they do, good preparation or dumb luck, or both, intervene: You run out of water and the creek is dry, but you stumble on a working windmill with an open tank. You get lost, but someone shows up on the trail and points you in the right direction. You're climbing a mountain, starting to suffer headaches and nausea, and you run into more experienced climbers who tell you to camp with them because you're showing symptoms of altitude sickness.

You could have become dehydrated. You could have been lost for days. You could have died of acute mountain sickness. But you didn't.

Did you learn anything?

I gave a talk to a bunch of teenage adventure campers a couple of weeks ago, and one of the questions I was asked was "Did you you ever almost die out there." The kids all learned forward: NOW, finally, we were getting to the good stuff.

And then, I had to disappoint them.

Because the truth is that I'm a wimp. I always have an extra Band-aid, the right map, and the 10 Essentials on hand. You could spoof me in a satire, and you wouldn't even come close. I think it comes from having read too many "Drama in Real Life" stories in the old Reader's Digest when I was a kid. People getting stuck in mountains, in blizzards, in impenetrable forests. I liked to read those stories; I didn't want to be the star of one.

Several years ago, I was hiking in the Grand Canyon. I had just finished reading Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire, in which he describes being stuck in a slot canyon: no way to go up, no way to go down. He thought he was going to die before he managed to haul himself out, and, being Edward Abbey, he wrote about it in a way that put me right there with him in the scorching sun baking against the cliff, the air thick as furnace heat and the water running out and the brittle claws of thirst raking the back of his throat. As I recall, he hauled himself up by the grace of a quarter-inch thick vine that had the decency to hold his weight as he scrambled to salvation.

So, when I encountered a slot canyon on a secondary, seldom-traveled trail in the Grand Canyon, unsure of whether the trail went into it or somehow around it, I remembered old Cactus Ed stuck on that ledge, convinced he was going to die. I was short on water. It was getting dark. Because Ed had gone down his slot canyon, I didn't have to go down mine: I turned back -- two miles back -- to the river to camp. I'd tackle the canyon in the morning, when I could see. Be sure. Be safe. Be boring.

The unexpected: A yucca in a surprise spring snow.

So no, I don't have any great stories about near death experiences. I've been cold, and thirsty, and had a touch of altitude sickness. I've been rattled at by rattlesnakes and I've argued with bears over the rightful ownership of my food bags. And I've been scared silly in grizzly country by the mere thought of what was lurking behind the next clump of huckleberry bushes. But I put on extra clothes, found some water, rested an extra day before continuing a climb, stepped around the rattlesnake, won the argument with the bear, and got over my fear of what crouches in the shadow of a huckleberry bush.

Still, part of what I take with me into the backcountry are the stories, the warnings that keep me just slightly on edge, a little more alert. They are no guarantee: Things can still go wrong. But people who study such things come to the same conclusion time and again: Most wilderness disasters are at least in part caused by operator error. Conditions may factor in. Bad luck may factor in. Panic may factor in. But lack of preparation or poor decision-making can, and often is, the difference between life and death. So I listen to the bell in the back of my head that said "don't go down that canyon tonight." I look at a steep slab of ice or some gnarly rock on a slope and think of the hikers in Glacier who didn't make it across. I remember Lizzie Bourne, out there in the cold, clenching fog, minutes from safety. Then dead.

It's usually a benign place, the wilderness. But not always, and therein lies the danger. If it were ALWAYS dangerous, we'd know enough to respect it. But there it sits with its crystal blue skies and gorgeous views, beckoning us, seducing, giving no sign of its evil twin.

Writing in National Geographic Adventure about Mt. Washington's legacy of fatalities, backcountry safety expert Laurence Gonzales says, "We come from the relatively safe environments of the city, where our mistakes are mostly forgiven, and we bring with us the careless ways we've learned there. Worse still, we travel to these danger zones and have a benign experience — like mine on Mount Washington on that beautiful sunny day. And that gives us a false sense of security."

Without the direct experience, it is the stories that may save us when Mother Nature changes her mind.

Tips for Solo Hikers on Long Trails

2011-07-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

We all know the benefits of the buddy system; they've been drilled into our heads since childhood. Virtually every instruction guide you'll read on almost every activity - hiking, diving, swimming, caving, mountaineering - urges outdoorspeople to stay with at least one partner, and sometimes more.

But what happens when partners aren't available? On a long-distance hike, it's not always possible to find a compatible partner who has the same several-month time-frame off. A hiker may start with a partner, but become separated by injury or incompatibility. And some people simply prefer to experience the solitude and personal growth of a solo long-distance hike, and the independence of not having to negotiate every decision of daily mileage, how long to stop for lunch, or where to camp.

Solitude on a Long-Distance Trail

Even hikers who choose to hike alone sometimes get lonely. But being independent on a trail doesn't mean being alone all the time.

One possibility is to choose a trail where there's a social scene. Trails with a hut, shelter, or lodging system are found throughout Europe, New Zealand, Nepal, and (less commonly) in North America. Trails with permit systems that require hikers to stay in designated camping areas are also good places to meet others. On the popular Appalachian Trail, for example, sociable hikers can find companionship almost whenever they want. Solitary types can hike alone and camp alone - but they can also drop into trail towns, hostels, or trail shelters if the silence becomes too deafening.

Another advantage of the Appalachian Trail is it is relatively easy to find a partner en route. So hikers who start solo might join up with informal groups of others for a while, or may form partnerships that last for the duration of your hike. On less traveled trails, there are fewer opportunities to form such partnerships.

Hikers who remain solo might experience occasional bouts of loneliness. Some simple strategies can help.

Bring a book. A long trail is a great time to read one of those heavy-weight classics that real life so seldom makes time for.
Bring music. Not everyone likes listening to music in the woods, but for hikers who do, an Ipod provides entertainment.
Write in a journal. Some hikers get even more creative, by composing haiku poems, drawing what they see, or writing songs.
Bring a project. Some hikers use the time on a long-distance hike to reevaluate their lives. A project book (an example would be Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, which includes many pages of creative exercises) may be a great way to use some of the time in camp in a productive and creative way.

Safety Strategies for Solo Hikers

Choose a trail with a fair amount of traffic.
Sign in at permit stations at the entrance to wildernesses. Permits tell rangers where and when hikers arrived, and can help them search for a lost hiker.
Sign trail registers. These are informal notebooks left on some trails in shelters, at trailheads, and even in hiker-friendly businesses and hostels. They are another way to know when a hiker was last seen.
Don't take unnecessary risks. This means avoiding the temptation to tale shortcuts, waiting out extremely bad weather, and being vigilant about environmental ailments such as altitude sickness, hypothermia, and dehydration.
Make sure someone at home knows the itinerary.
Bring a cell phone or a satellite phone. International travelers should make sure they have international cell service on their phones, or a dedicated international moblie phone.
Know standard ways of signaling, such as using a mirror, lighting a fire, using the color orange, and sending out signals in bursts of threes.
Solo women travelers should be especially vigilant about who they tell their plans to.
Carry an emergency kit with the "10 essentials" in it.

Solo hiking isn't for everyone. But with some experience, the right gear for the conditions, and the common sense to stay safe, it can be an intense and rewarding experience.

Long--Distance Hiking: Just the FAQs, Ma'am

2011-07-23T20:56:00.000-07:00

Here I've collected and answered some of the most common questions heard on long trails. These questions -- and plenty of others -- are discussed in more detail in my books. Advanced Backpacking: A Trailside Guide and Hiking the Triple Crown

I've always wanted to do a long hike. How much does long-distance hiking cost?

The High Sierra in June

Good news and bad news: Let's start with the bad news. Backpacking equipment can be quite expensive, especially if you go for the top-of-the-line stuff. So if you've got to start from scratch and you buy everything new, you can expect to spend at least $1000 on the basics: (tent, sleeping bag, pack, boots, stove, and raingear). That budget will get you solid middle-of-the-road gear. High rollers can easily spend $500 more. Then there's clothing, pots and eating utensils, first aid and personal gear, maps and guidebooks, transportation expenses to and from the trailhead, and -- don't forget -- food for 5 - 6 months, postage for resupply boxes, plus money for lay-over days in town.

Ready for some good news? Once you've bought your gear, your ticket, and most of the food you'll send to yourself in resupply boxes, there isn't much left to spend money on. Hikers figure $2.00 and up for on-trail expenses. (Another way to figure it is $100 per town stop per person.) Couples or hiking partners can lower the cost by sharing share some of those expenses, like the occasional night in a motel in town, or postage for sending unneeded equipment home or up ahead.

There are ways to minimize the expense. Some hikers make their own gear. Some cook and dehydrate most of their meals in advance. Some pay attention to their budgets during town stops by staying in campgrounds and hostels rather than hotels.

How do people manage that?

All different ways. Some save money for a couple of years by deliberately living a simpler life than they can "afford." Some drive an older car or don't go out to eat so much. Buying used gear is also an option (check the bulletin board at your local retailer, or join a hiking organization and list your request for gear in its newsletter). Many people sublet their apartments or rent out their homes while they are away.

How do you prepare for a long-distance hike?

The best favor you can do for yourself is to get in shape BEFORE your hike. Some hikers claim that that's impossible: They say that the only way to get in shape to carry a pack up mountains all day is to carry a pack up mountains all day. I say hogwash! Sure, no matter how fit you are, you'll have a few break-in days as your body gets used to doing something different. But there's a huge difference in how you'll feel if you start in good aerobic shape versus how you'll fell if you start in slug shape. Believe me -- I've done it both ways!

How many miles a day do hikers walk?

Depends on the terrain, the hiker, and the load you're carrying. The average AT hiker completes the trail in about 5 1/2 months, which means averaging between 14 and 16 miles a day (it depends on how many rest-days, or "Zero" days, you take). The longer PCT and CDT have to be completed in about 5 months because of snow, meaning that the average mileage on those trails has to be higher -- about 18 to 22 miles a day.

Averages aside, there are huge variations in how much mileage people can do. Some extremely fit and motivated hikers cover 30, 40, or (very very occasionally and often painfully) even more miles a day. The most I've ever done was 35 miles with a VERY light pack, and I wasn't happy at the end of the day! But on easy terrain when I'm broken in, I can comfortably do mileage in the mid-20s. But not day after day after day.

When you think about mileage, though, always consider the terrain and the elevation gains. Most people can cover 30 - 50 percent more mileage on the PCT than on the AT because the grades are more gentle and the footway is smoother.

How do I know how many miles a day I can walk?

You'll learn from experience. People who complete long-trails are by and large just average folks of varying ages and fitness levels. Unless you have a specific problem, there's no reason to think you can't do the "average" required mileages listed above for the three trails. Of course, the point of a long-distance hike is the quality, not the speed with which you get to the destinations. You may well find that you enjoy a more leisurely page. On the PCT and CDT, that may require completing the hike over two seasons.

When you start your hike, plan for some low-mileage break-in days if possible. (On the AT, it's a good idea to plan 10-mile days for the first week or so. It's not always possible to do this on the PCT and CDT because of the distance between water sources.) And don't forget to factor in the terrain: More mountains means less miles!

How many pairs of boots do you wear out?

It depends on the type of boot and which trail -- and on how you walk and how much weight you carry. The AT is the hardest on boots because it has the rockiest, muddiest, and gnarliest footway of the three trails. However, it's also shorter. If you use old-fashioned leather hiking boots, figure that you'll need two pairs. If you're using trail runners or sneakers, you may go through three or four pairs. If I'm using (lightweight) boots, I always break in two pairs of boots before a thru-hike, but this may not work for everyone because if it's your first thru-hike, your feet may grow a full size (or even more) during the trip.

What do you eat on the trail?

Some hikers find that packing ALL their food in advance is a bad idea. Your body's needs and tastes may change over the course of a hike. You might get sick of all that Ramen you packed six months ago!

Some staples you'll see a lot of: Pasta. Lipton noodles-and-sauce packages. Ramen noodles. Instant oatmeal. Instant potatoes. Freeze-dried meals. Stove-top stuffing. Dehydrated meats and veggies. Snickers Bars. GORP (Good old raisins and peanuts). Crackers and cheese. Salami or similar sausages. Peanut butter and jelly. Instant soup mixes. You might also carry some fresh veggies (onions and carrots last well) for a little variety. Or dehydrate your own food.

Have you seen bears?

Yes, on all three of the Triple Crown trails. Bears are wild animals and will usually run from people. However, they can become problematic if they are defending a food source such as a berry patch or a cache of carrion; if they are surprised or frightened; or if a mother bear perceives you as a threat to her cub. If you see a cub, remember that Mama Bear is undoubtedly around and watching you very closely -- retreat so she doesn't feel threatened.

Over the years, bears have learned that backpacks are a great food source! They may try to get at your trail rations. In bear country, hanging food high in a tree using the counterbalance method is always a good idea, as is cooking and eating 100 yards away from your campsite. In "bear problem" areas such as Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia National Parks, bears may be more aggressive and the park may provide bear lockers for food storage or have regulations requiring the use of special bear-proof canisters.

Do you worry about safety?

Backcountry travelers should always be attentive to safety because if you get into a jam you may have to be the one to get yourself out of it. That means being careful crossing tricky terrain like snowfields and rivers. It means keeping an eye on the weather. It means paying attention to where the next water source is. And it means exercising common sense when dealing with strangers. All that said, I feel safer in the backcountry that on a city street.

Ideas for Finding and Buying Cheap Hiking Equipment

2011-07-23T20:01:00.000-07:00

Want to try backpacking? Don't want to spend a lot of money before you even know if you like it? A full complement of hiking equipment is expensive, if purchased all at once, but there's no reason to do that. Most beginning backpackers can find some ways to try before they buy, which gives them a chance to see not only how much they like backpacking, but how well they like certain types of gear.

Budgeting and Buying Tips for Hiking Equipment

Buy used equipment. Start at a local hiking club. Check the newsletter, which will frequently have a "for sale" section, or put in a notice. The Appalachian Trail Conservancy's newsletter frequently has listings of used and not-so-used gear for sale. Craig's List, eBay, and local garage sales are also possibilities. Or post a request on Facebook.
Borrow: Friends and relatives may have a stash of old gear available for borrowing, especially if they don't use it often. This is a good way to check out various brands and models, although much of what's sitting around in a friend’s garage is likely to be out of date.
Rent: Some outfitting stores such as R.E.I. in the United States rent major pieces of gear, including tents, sleeping bags, and packs. Backpackers traveling with an organized trip may get the use of gear included in the price they pay, or may be able to rent certain items from their outfitters.
Check end-of-season sales: The selection might not be enormous, but the prices are right. Last year's stuff is out of fashion this year -- but not out of function. And the price may be right.
Ask about sales of returned items. Some outfitters have very generous return policies, and you can sometimes score a barely used piece of gear for a fraction of its original cost.
Hiker events (fairs, conferences, "rucks" (or gatherings) on the A.T. and other long trails) are good places to check out new designs in ultralight gear, often at good prices.
Check to see if local hiking clubs have a gear swap or sale day.
Make do. There's no need to spend $200 on hiking boots for an overnight: Use a pair of running shoes. Old workout clothes make good hiking clothes (although it's best to avoid cotton, as it absorbs moisture). A couple of soda bottles can be used for water (take a spare in case one cracks).

With a little bit of creativity and planning, it should be possible to assemble enough equipment for a night in the woods without having to take out a second mortgage. Of course, after a hiker gets hooked, that's when "G.A.S." (Gear Acquisition Syndrome) kicks in, and if you really get into backpacking, you'll want to carefully assemble equipment you can count on for longer trips. But it's best to get some experience under your belt first, and learn from that experience just exactly what you do need -- and, as importantly, what you don't need.

Gear for Beginning Backpackers: Accessories

2011-07-23T11:00:00.000-07:00

So you've got your big-ticket items under control: tents, hiking footwear, backpack, sleeping bags and mats, and stoves. Beyond this basic list backpacking gear, a number of other items will help you stay safe and comfortable.

Backpacking Essential Equipment

Not all of the following items are used by all hikers all of the time. Backpacking gear selection depends on climate, season, length of hike, and hiking style, among other things. But the following list is a good place to start planning for a backpacking trip.

For sleeping: In addition to tents, sleeping bags, and sleeping mats, use a ground cloth to keep out water and prevent the tent bottom from tearing.
For eating: In addition to a stove and fuel, hikers need a pot with lid, a pot grabber, a spoon, and a pot scrubber for cleaning up. A bowl or cup ae useful too. Titanian equipment is expensive, but lightweight.
For drinking: Backpackers must have water bottles, hydration systems, or water bags, as well as water filters, purifiers, or purification pills. Lightest choice: empty water or soda bottles and purification tablets.
For weather protection: Rain gear (at least a jacket) is usually necessary except perhaps in the hottest driest places (think Arizona in July). The choice of rain jacket, rain pants, poncho, or rain hat will depend on the climate.
For warmth: For high mountains, create a layered hiking clothing system. Depending on the environment, it could include insulating long-johns, wool socks, thin wicking sock liners, gloves and hat, a lightweight jacket or pullover, and two sets of hiking clothes (usually shorts and T-shirts). For hot summer hiking, a couple T-shirts and of pairs of shorts should be all you need, with a super-light windbreaker or water-resistant jacket just in case.
For camp comfort: This is a luxury item, but I like having a pair of flip flops. Even lightweight trekking shoes start to feel imprisoning after a big-miles day.

Useful Accessories for Backpackers

Each hiker has an idea of which pieces of outdoor equipment are essential and which are not. Here are some items found in many experienced hikers' packs:

Army knife or multi-use use tool (a mini is fine).
Sun hat, sun screen, sun glasses, lip protection.
A repair kit : The repair kit should include spare parts, (such as pack buckles and shoelaces), thick sewing needle and ultra strong thread, safety pins, cord, seam-seal compound (acts as glue), repair patches for tents, raingear, and duct tape. Pare it down to bits and pieces.
First aid kit: A commercial kit can be modified (read: stripped down) to fit the hiker's needs. Be sure prescription medicine is included.
Walking sticks or trekking poles.
Pouch or pack pocket to wear in front of pack for keeping personal daily items close to hand.
GPS, map, compass; See-through plastic case to protect map (Zipper-locking bags are a lighter, but more fragile, option).
A bandanna can be used for multiple tasks in camp (grabbing a pot); it can also be used as a bandage, a sweatband, and a handkerchief.
Extra zipper-locking bags to keep things dry (especially electronics like cell phones and cameras; most cases aren’t waterproof).
Stuff sacks for separating and organizing hiking equipment.
Bug repellent.

Note that this is a starter list. In desert, high mountains, snow, and winter, other specialty equipment will be needed. Plus, every gear list becomes modified over time as a hiker’s skill level grows, hiking style and priorities change, and new gear is introduced by manufacturers.

Beginning Backpacker's Overnight Gear List: Big Ticket Essentials

2011-07-23T10:17:00.000-07:00

Backpacking is one of those gear-intensive activities that lends itself to "GAS" ("Gear Acquisition Syndrome"). Any passionate hiker is bound to have a couple of tents, sleeping bags in a range of ratings, a few different stoves, and countless pairs of boots in various stages of disrepair.

Indeed, it's hard not to shop when a hobby has so many different kinds of tools and toys. Just look at what's available. Backpacker magazine's annual gear issue lists literally thousands of models of backpacking equipment every year.

But the funny thing is that once you're out on the trail, you quickly learn that the gear that may make you the happiest is the gear you left home -- and don't have to carry. What looked shiny, new, and functional in the outfitting store may look like nothing more than a painful burden on the trail, especially if you never actually need it.

Backpacker's List of Major Gear Essentials

Bottom line: It's not necessary to have the latest and greatest gear to get outside for an overnight, especially in the summer time in temperate and warm climates.

let's start with the basic list of the big- ticket essentials. These are the items necessary to transport your gear, sleep out of the weather, and eat.

Tent, tarp, or bivvy sack. Even hikers who prefer sleeping under the stars or in trailside shelters need to carry some sort of shelter in case of rain or in case the lean-to is full. The smaller and lighter, the better. A tarp is a good choice.
Sleeping bag: The standard "one size all" bag is a three season bag, rated down to about 20 or 30 degrees Fahrenheit, but that's a little much for the Appalachians in July or northern California in August. A 40- or 50- degree bag is much lighter. Use the heavier three-season bag for the shoulder seasons of early spring and late fall, as well as high mountains. For winter, an even warmer bag will be required.
Sleeping Mat: For sleeping comfort and insulation from cold ground. Thickness depends on your comfort requirements.
Stove: A liquid fuel gas stove, a propane cartridge stove, or an alcohol stove. For beginners, a cartridge stove is inexpensive, easy to use, and lightweight. Note: The now common propane-butane blend stoves work well in most conditions, including cold and high altitudes, although liquid fuel is more efficient in very severe conditions. Alcohol stoves (which you can make yourself; Google it!) don't work well at high altitudes, but they are a good choice for lower mountains.
Backpacks: Backpacks should be selected after all other gear is bought or assembled for the simple reason that all the gear has to be able to fit. Backpacks come in two styles, internal or external frames; external frames are "traditional" but internal frames are by fare the most common among long-distance hikers. The lighter the gear you are carrying, the flimsier your backpack can be. But comfort is also an issues, as all those (heavy) stays and straps DO help distribute the weight better.
Boots: Contrary to tradition, thick heavy hiking boots are not always required for backpacking, especially not on gentle well-maintained trails in the heat of summer! Trekking shoes do just fine for many overnight hikers. If conditions do require boots, buy them – don't try to rent or borrow. Boots need to fit properly to prevent blisters.
Accessories: For a list of other essential backpacking gear, check back tomorrow for Gear and Accessories for Beginning Backpackers.

Thru-Hiking Lingo for the Appalachian Trail

2011-07-21T15:13:00.000-07:00

The plaque at Springer Mountain.

Thinking of hiking the Appalachian Trail? (That's "AT" to those in the know). It's not enough to walk the walk; you gotta talk the talk, too.

Here's some lingo you're going to be hearing for the next, oh, five or six months.

(The following list is mostly directly related to the Appalachian Trail; I didn't include "regular" hiking terms. If you've got some to add, please put them in the comments section below this post!)

On the Trail

Lean-to. (Also called a shelter): A primitive three-sided structure for sheltering hikers. First come first served, and the ethos is to squeeze as many in as possible, especially in bad weather.
Stealth camping: Camping in such a way that you can't (easily) be seen. It doesn't necessarily mean camping illegally -- but it sometimes does.
Water bars: Stone bars that help channel; water off the trail.
Double blazes: indicate a change of direction.
Relo: A change in the route of the trail: Can be temporary or permanent.
PUDs. Pointless ups and downs. Many blue blazers (see below) try to avoid PUDs.

Trail Folk: Who We Are

SoBo and NoBo: Southbounder and northbounder; indicates a hiker's direction of travel.
White blazer: A hiker who assiduously follows the exact, official marked (white-blazed) route of the Appalachian Trail.
Blue blazer: A hiker who takes alternate routes, such as old AT routes that have since been relocated (often marked in blue); often blueblazers are blueblazing to avoid PUDs..
Yellow blazer: A hiker who "cheats" by hitchhiking (following the yellow marks on a highway).
Purist: A hiker who white blazes. often expresses a critical attitude about people who blue blaze, and let's not even talk about yellow blazing.
Triple Crowner: A hiker who has completed the Appalachian, Pacific crest, and Continental Divide national scenic trails.
Hiker trash: What we all affectionately call each other when we're covered with grime and headed for the nearest bar.
Thru-hiker: Yup, we spell it wrong. We're into the lightweight thing; we get rid of stuff (like letters) we don't need.
Section-hiker: Hikers who hike the entire Appalachian Trail over a stretch of several or many years.
2000-milers: Anyone who has hiked the entire AT.
End-to-Ender: Same as above.

Thru-Hiking Gear and Stuff

Ultralight: A style of hiking where gear is chosen according to weight; the goal is the lightest pack possible.
FSO: From-the-skin-out: A measure used by weight-obsessed ultralight hikers to account for every ounce they carry, right down to their underwear.
Hiker box: A box maintained in some hostels or other trail service providers where hikers can donate food and equipment they no longer need to those coming after them.
Flyer: A box of supplies you mail to yorself, to a location farther up the trail.
Mail drops: Boxes you prepackage when still at home and bribe a friend or family member to send to you at various post offices and hostels along the way.
Resupply: Going into town to get more food, pick up your mail drops, or stock up or repair gear.
Vitamin I : Ibuprofen: What you need to carry all that stuff.

Trail Culture

Trail Daze: Hiker variation of Trail Days, the annual town festival in Damascus, Virginia, which brings hundreds of current and former thru-hikers into town.
Ruck: A ruck is technically an informal gathering, but in recent years, informal gatherings have become scheduled events at various places along the trail.
Register: A notebook left in a lean-to, trail head, or hostel, where hikers record pretty much whatever they want to. it's the hub of the non-digital hiker communication system.
Taking a zero: (zero-mile day): Taking a full day off in town or on the trail, where you do no hiking at all. (A "Nero" is a "nearly zero" day.)
Getting off: The polite way to say someone is quitting their thru-hike, the implication being he may get back on.
Flip-flopping: Continuing to hike the trail, but driving to another location and resuming hiking in a different direction. ("He was going NoBo, but he's going SoBo because he realized he'd never make it to Katahdin in time, so he flip-flopped.")
Slackpacking: It used to mean hiking at a leisurely pace, but on the AT the term has gotten commandeered to mean hiking without a pack (by getting someone to deliver it ahead for you).
Yogiing: Good naturedly trying to get day-users to give you food or drinks without actually asking.
Yoyoing: Doing back-to-back thru-hikes of the A.T., one in each drirection.
Trail name: It's like a truck driver's "handle." You can try to name yourself -- or you can "acquire" a name on the trail. (Do that at your own risk!)

Trail Communities

Katahdin, the northern terminus.

Trail towns: Towns that are very close to the trail and are popular re-supply and rest stops because they have what hikers need and/or are especially friendly to hikers.
Ridge runner: Usually a paid summer position in crowded sections of the trail: Think of them as A.T. rangers.
Maintainer: Volunteers who keep the trail cleared of blowdowns (downed trees), cut down widow makers (hanging branches) and build puncheons (bog bridges).
Trail magic: The serendipity of meeting someone on the trail who offers hospitality or help, usually when you need it most.
Trail angels: Purveyors of trail magic.
Hike your own hike: What we tell each other to let people make their own decisions about whiteblazing, flip-flopping, and other crucial issues of the thru-hiking world.

Skills for Alpine Hiking: Hiking on Scree and Talus

2011-07-21T08:35:00.000-07:00

Rocky terrain in the Pyrenees is a challenge for hikers.

Summer is the time to explore some of the world's most beautiful terrain: the high mountains of legendary ranges such as the Alps, Rockies, and Cascades. Mountain trails, however, can be very different than hiking trails in the more protected and gentler lowlands. Some mountain trails may be little more than cross-country routes, sometimes marked by cairns, and sometimes not marked at all. The rocky, rubbly high-country paths twist knees and ankles, challenge balance, and can make the distance of a mile seem to stretch for two or three.

This can be an important consideration when you're planning your daily mileage and campsites, because travel times on boulders and rocks can drop to little more than a mile an hour.

Traveling on Scree

Scree is the fine, crumbly crushed and eroded rock that slides underfoot, making it seem that the hiker is going up the down elevator. Often, each step up the mountain is accompanied by a corresponding slide down.

When climbing on scree, look for a zigzag path and avoid facing the slope head-on. This helps eliminate the sliding problem typical of a direct assault up a steep scree slope. The mini-switchbacks are also easier on the legs, and require less brute force (to lift bodies and packs) and less stretching of the calves (caused by putting the foot down on a steeply angled slope).

On very steep and narrow slopes, making switchbacks may not be practical. In such cases, the hiker has two options:

Kick steps into the scree. This works if the scree is a few inches deep. Dig in with the front of the boot, test to be sure the footing is stable, then shift weight and repeat on the other foot.
Look for larger rocks that appear to have come to rest at a stable angle of repose (the place at which friction, angle, and gravity all come into balance and an object stops following gravity's imperative to keep sliding downhill). If these rocks are stable enough, they may be able to hold a hiker's weight; test the footing before committing any weight. .

Descending on scree is a bit faster – sometimes too fast. The quickest technique down a scree slope is called screeing, which is a little like skiing on hiking boots. The deeper the scree, the better. Limit this technique to slopes with few obstacles, such as big boulders that can be difficult to steer around. The basic technique is to bend the knees, then launch into a sort of slow-motion combination jog and slide. Hopping from foot to foot helps with balance, as do trekking poles. Gaiters keep scree out of the boots.

Alpine Trekking Through Talus

Talus comprises chunks of rock. It is the larger rubble that often is found on mountain slopes and at the base of cirques and bowls.

The biggest challenge in traveling on talus is to keep in balance. Often, boulders are irregularly shaped and pointy, and sometimes, they move underfoot. Walking on and around them can involve big steps up, down, and sideways. Keep knees bent and balance low, and, as with skiing moguls, always look several steps ahead. It is often easier to step down slightly sideways than straight down forward, which puts more stress on the knees. The easiest progress involves a fluid but controlled movement from rock to rock.

Hikers picking their own route up or down a talus slope should look for cairns, small piles of stones that are made by trail planners or other hikers, and which often show the easiest way through the maze.

When cairns are not available, pick a diagonal route rather than going straight up and down. The straight-up route may be more direct, but it is more difficult: to travel straight up or down on talus, The direct route is is harder on both knees and balance, takes more energy and concentration, and can put hikers below in danger of being hit by dislodged and falling rock.

Hiking sticks or trekking poles are perhaps the alpine traveler's best friend (Unless the landscape is covered in snow, in which case, that honor goes to the ice axe.) Trekking poles can help a hiker maintain balance, take pressure off the knees, especially when hiking downhill, and particularly on talus. Perhaps the most sage advice is to trek slowly, rest often, and be sure to take in the fabulous views of the high country.

Using a Lightweight Camping Tarp

2011-07-20T13:00:00.000-07:00

Continuing on with the lightweight hiking theme... Summer is a great time to experiment with different gear. And one of the best places to trim weight is with your shelter. A simple tarp may may be all that you need, and a tarp that protects two people may not weigh much more than a pound. Considering that many two-person tents weigh in at four, five, or six pounds (ouch!) that's a lot of weight savings.

Even in hot and dry climates, you almost always want to have some sort of shelter in case it rains at night. Some of us have learned this lesson through cold and damp experience. In my case, the lesson took the form of a snowfall that woke me up when I was backpacking without carrying any sort of tent or tarp. It was Memorial Day in New Mexico. Choices: To get up and start walking at 3:30 a.m. or to lay there in the falling snow.

But while some kind of weather protection is necessary, in a reliably mild or arid climate, you can afford to go light. For shelter, that means taking a tarp, a simple square or rectangular sheet of coated waterproof nylon.

Best Uses for A Camping Tarp

Tarps are good choices for anyone who is concerned about weight, especially backpackers. Bikers or paddlers can more easily handle a few extra pounds, and sometimes opt for the relative luxury of a tent. But tarps work better in some conditions than others.

Use a tarp when you expect mostly warm, dry weather. You probably won't need it, and if you do, it will protect you from the rain while still allowing good air flow, which is much more comfortable in warm humid conditions.
Don't use a tarp when you expect lots of rain and snow. It doesn't offer as much rain protection as a tent, and snow can easily drift inside.
Don't use a tarp when you expect to camp in exposed areas of high winds, or when you expect to have to camp on surfaces where it is hard to drive in a secure stake.
Do use a tarp when you expect to be mostly staying in shelters, and only need an emergency shelters for nights when shelters are full in bad weather.
Don't use a tarp in mosquito season. Black flies are not so much a problem, as they aren't active at night, but tarps offer scant protection against mosquitoes unless you also carry (and affix) a net – in which case you may as well carry a lightweight tent.

Tips for Choosing and Pitching Tarps

Two people can squeeze into a 64-square-foot tarp, but it's a tight fit. The 72 square-foot size is more comfortable for two.
You need enough parachute cord to tie guylines to all the grommets, and a stake for each grommet.
You need two poles to hold up the tarp. (Basically, you are making a triangular tent, like a typical old-fashioned A-frame tent). You can use walking sticks as tent poles.
You need a long line of cord to pull out and stake the tarp where the walking sticks hold it up.
You can pitch the tent asymmetrically, if necessary. The tarp should be side to the wind, so that the wind doesn't whip through it. You can bring down the fabric lower on the side that faces the wind to create a nylon "wall," and leave the lee side more open.
Be sure your guylines are pulled tight and your stakes are securely in the ground.
Using a ground cloth keeps your gear clean and dry.
Consider drainage issues, and try to pitch in a place where water won't flow or settle.

Tarps are not good choices for all backpacking situations, but they work well in mild climates where you don't expect to need a lot of weather protection. And they might just help save your trip when unexpected weather rolls in.

Thoughts About Lightweight Backpacking

2011-07-19T11:49:00.000-07:00

So Google + has already proved itself valuable: Mark Roberts, one of my brand new Google + buddies sent this link to his hiking blog, and he's taking on the issue of lightweight backpacking.

Go over there and read it!

I have to admit that I don't take the same approach to instructing lightweight hiking as many of my long-distance hiking peers do, so if you're reading here, it's probably a good thing for you to explore elsewhere as well (and Mark's site has a great blogroll, with links to a lot of other cool hiking sites). On teaching about this topic, I'm a LOT more conservative, both in how I define lightweight hiking and in how I suggest people approach it. The goal is the same, but my path is a little longer.

This is partly because as a teacher I know that once the information I share with my readers leaves my fingers, I have no control over it. It's like a game of telephone: Words get distorted or sometimes misunderstood, and the message can get boiled down to something different. "Don't take anything you don't need" ends up becoming (and I have personally seen this happen, and I promise I am not making it up) "I didn't take my rain jacket into the White Mountains because you said to ditch gear I didn't need, and I didn't need rain gear here last time."

The result -- in that environment -- CAN be fatal.

If I'm there in person I can say "Whoa! Not so fast cowboy." In writing, I have to be more careful.

I think what is sometimes missing in on-line discussions about lightweight hiking is the realization that experience and judgment in rough conditions are a crucial part of the equation you use to decide which gear to take for what type of hike. It seems to me that a lot of on-line discussions simply assume that because something works for the writer, it should work for every reader.

One of the things I appreciate about Mark's site is that it is reader-focused. He's not didactic, and he doesn't get weighted down in picayune arguments about brand names and definitions of what exactly is ultralight versus extreme ultralight and all that nonsense. He's just trying to help you get more comfortable.

My own approach to the topic, though, is a bit more step-by-step. My book, Hiking Light Handbook, deliberately avoids recommending cutting straight to "ultralight hiking strategies." In short, I think you need to have shivered your tail off in an above-treeline August snowstorm before you start paring your gear to the bone for a high-mountain expedition. I figure that the people who are ready to do, or are already doing, the hardcore ultralight thing don't need me. (If that's you, DON'T buy my book, but instead, click on the link to Mark's site.)

Hiking Light Handbook

But if you are someone who carries 30- and 40- pound backpacks for a summer four-day hike in Pennsylvania, I'm going to help you cut your weight to something reasonable. I'm pretty sure that once you feel the difference between 30 pounds and 20 pounds, you'll want to pursue other cuts, according to experience, preferences, and hiking style. A PodCast I did with practical backapacking covers some of these issues in more detail.

Another thing Mark points out that I think is really important: Manistream manufacturers and gear reviewers at many outdoor magazines, continue to CALL things lightweight that aren't -- a five-pound tent, for instance. A four-pack pack. Sayin' don't make it so. Mark's site gets right to this issue with with practical guidelines as to what is and isn't lightweight, along with simple compare-and-contrast examples. It's extremely useful to have these benchmarks in mind when shopping for gear, lest a salesperson convince you that a three-pound sleeping bag is a reasonable choice for the mid-Atlantic in July (it's not).

In recent years, reasonably priced, durable lighterweight gear is much more available on the general market than it used to be. So it's perfectly possible -- indeed, it's ridiculous NOT to -- have the total of your three heaviest items (sleeping system, tent, and pack) weigh in at six pounds or less. Once you've done that, everything else seems to fall into place.

I got suspicious about lightweight hiking back in the early days when I saw lightweight hikers suffering from poor gear choices in extreme conditions. I got sold on it not by people preaching about it, or books, or arguments on the Internet: I was sold on it when I hiked with a friend who could pick up her fully loaded pack with her PINKY finger... and when I saw, out in the field, that she had everything she needed for the conditions we were in.

Hiking light is about making the right choices -- for you, your style, the conditions, and your level of experience.

If that sounds like something you're interested in, hightail it over to Mark's blog to learn more. And if you need a step-by-step way to get started, check out my book.

Hiking in the Inferno: Tricks to Keep You Cool and Safe

2011-07-18T07:25:00.000-07:00

It's HOT this week. I live in generally cool New England, on a mountain, no less, and I'm wishing I had AC this week (Most houses here don't have it because we usually don't need it.)

In mid-July, the bulk of the Appalachian Trail thru-hikers are by now somewhere in the mid-Atlantic or southern New England regions, and you can't ask for a worse place to be when the thermometer edges into triple digits.

I know because when I thru-hiked the AT, a heat wave with the palpable force of a tsunami hit just as we were in New York. The air shimmered, the humidity rose to sauna-like levels, and when we crossed highways, we could feel soft melting tar sticking to our hiking shoes. It didn't break until northern Massachusetts.

It seemed like a giant dinosaur had gobbled up everyone else on the trail for that couple of weeks. We didn't pass any other hikers, and no one passed us. And we couldn't even find respite in the usual places: When I scrambled down to a lake in Fahnstock State Park, the lake was full of mud and vegetation, and the temperature warm as bathwater. The other hikers -- the smart ones -- it turned out, had abandoned ship and headed for the beach.

So I'm going to offer that up as your first strategy: STOP! Hiking is supposed to be fun, not life-threatening. (And hiking in heat CAN be life-threatening: Every year, it seems, I read a newspaper article about some hiker -- usually a middle-aged male, too stubborn to stop) dying of a heart attack on a hot day on a steep hill. Seriously. I know a lot of people reading this are super-fit thru-hikers, but even if you're super-fit, why endure the misery?

But if you choose to stay on the trail, here are a few tips to keep you, if not comfortable, then perhaps a little less uncomfortable.

1) Drink water regularly. Keep water bottles full, and don't push on past water sources.

2) As important as water: Food! Eat little bits of snacks, especially GORP and energy bars and grain-filled snacks even if you don't feel hungry (which you probably won't, because who wants to eat when it's a million degrees outside?) Anything with a little salt and sugar will help replace electrolytes you lose while sweating and will help prevent a dangerous condition called hyponatremia, which results from an electrolyte imbalance. I don't want to go all Chicken-Little on you with life-threatening dangers, but hyponatremia is nasty (if you don't believe me, talk to rangers and nurses at Grand Canyon National Park about it).

3) Take cooling off breaks whenever possible: This includes sitting in spots of shade and, even better, immersing yourself in cold water whenever possible. Assuming, that is, you can find any.

4) SLOW it down! Set a slow climbing pace, and adjust your daily mileage if necessary.

5) Use hot weather fabrics. We have the technology, damn it! Start with nothing cotton -- not even your socks. Cotton absorbs moisture, leading to discomfort, blisters (on your feet) and rashes under pack belts). Wicking fabrics like lightweight Capelene will bring the sweat away from your skin slowly -- just what you need to stay as cool as possible. Gentlemen: wear shirts. Going shirtless can lead to sunburn, dehydration, and heat stroke.

6) Wear a light colored hat. It keeps the sun off your head (important for everyone, but especially for bald people and those with dark hair). Hats help keep bugs away, too.

7) Sunglasses may help some people with the perception of being cooler. I can't promise anything here; this tip comes from my own experience, and YMMV. But try it and see if it works for you.

8) Neckties filled with small water-absorbing crystals can help keep you cool. Soak the tie in cold water and sweat it around you neck. Kafta's Kool Ties (R), one of the original manufacturers in this field, has received positive feedback from the U.S. Military about the product and its effectiveness in hot weather. Hot weather ties are available on-line or at outdoor retailers such as REI.

9) Make like a rattlesnake: Experiment with napping during the heat of the day, assuming you can find a nice shady shelter somewhere; then hike your big miles early in the morning and into the cooler evening hours.

10) This is a great time to experiment with carrying a lighter backpack. Heavy backpacks are painful in ANY weather, but even more in the high heat. And when it's 100 degrees out, you don't really need to be carrying that much, so check out what you can live without -- then go ahead and live without it.

Good luck to everyone out there!

Using and Choosing Trekking Poles or Hiking Sticks

2011-07-17T07:21:00.000-07:00

Back in the Middle Ages, if you were going to walk from, say, Paris to Santiago da Compostela, they didn't call it a long-distance hike; they called it a pilgrimage. But like today's long-distance backpackers, yesteryear's pilgrims were identified by their garb (and probably their smell, too): Long cloaks that could be used as shelters, a talisman (in the case of Santiago pilgrims, it was a scallop shell, symbol, of St. James) and a walking stick.

Back then, walking sticks were little more than stout staffs. Indeed, today's s hikers sometimes improvise hiking stocks from downed wood, old ski poles, folding wading staffs sold in fly-fishing stores, or broomsticks with neoprene handgrips taped around the top. More upscale hikers might choose hand-carved poles, available at outfitters in popular outdoor vacation spots, but to be perfectly honest, these make better decorations and souvenirs. And then of course, we have the high-tech option. New metal models are more ergonomically designed, with comfortable handgrips and a telescoping feature that allows the hiker to choose the exact right length, then collapse the poles for easy travel.

Whatever type of hiking stick you choose, its function is the same: Trekking poles help whenever the terrain gets rough. If you've got to hop from boulder to boulder, descend steep slopes, and cross streams, you'll find that a pole makes your hike quicker and more stable.

One Trekking Pole or Two?

While the traditional pilgrim used one walking stick, many of today’s backpackers use two. Two poles are more easily incorporated into a natural walking rhythm, and the arms can actually help propel the hiker uphill. Two poles are also useful for balance, enabling a hiker to plant both poles, then hop down from a high boulder without putting undue stress on the knees.

Overweight hikers, hikers with bad knees, and older hikers (whose balance is affected by the aging process) should consider using two poles.

Some hikers find that using two poles gets in the way of using their hands to scramble up rock slopes, or when taking photographs. Collapsible poles can be temporarily strapped to backpacks to leave the hands free. Or hikers in these cases might use just one pole.

Two poles are essential with snowshoes, useful for crossing streams (especially while rock-hopping), and reassuring on snowy slopes that don’t require full mountaineering equipment, but are slick enough that a little extra help is appreciated.

Features of Trekking Poles

Telescoping sections: Most modern trekking poles are telescoping, meaning that a pole can be pulled out to its full length of about four feet, then collapsed into a small package when not in use. The telescoping feature comes in handy when traversing very steep ridges: The downhill pole can be longer than the uphill pole.
Packability: Some poles collapse into two sections; some into three. Hikers taking plane flights to hiking destination should check that the length of the collapsed poles fits into luggage: Trekking poles are considered potential weapons by the TSA, and are not allowed as hand luggage.
Hand grips: Grips are made of rubber, plastic, or cork. Cork models absorb sweat from the hands and may be more comfortable and less likely to cause blisters.
Shock absorbing springs: Springs in the telescoping mechanism absorb shock when poles are planted. This small feature makes a big difference when using poles to help with large downhill steps (for instance, off a big rock or boulder).

More Uses for Trekking Poles

Checking for snakes in brush and underbrush.
Pitching a tarp (The configuration will determine if one pole or two is required)
Waving at barking dogs
Poking a bear-bag into place.
Pushing gear from one person to another when both hikers are too exhausted to move up at the end of the day.

The choice of one trekking pole or two is ultimately one of function and comfort. But many hikers agree that a trekking pole is one piece of equipment they can't do without.

Hiking Boots versus Trekking Shoes: Choosing Hiking Footwear

2011-07-16T11:24:00.000-07:00

Conventional wisdom may be conventional, but is it always wise? In backpacking, conventional wisdom tells hikers to wear hiking boots, but with advances in technology, lighter gear is available, and many hikers find that with lighter backpacks, traditional boots aren't always necessary.

Today's backpackers have more footwear choices than ever before: traditional leather hiking boots, lightweight trekking shoes, and in-between fabric-leather hybrid boots. Choosing the right hiking boots or trekking shoes can mean the difference between a successful, pleasant and fun hike and foot torture. Here are some considerations.

Traditional Leather Hiking Boots: Pros and Cons

Traditional leather hiking boots have been around for years. Some hikers swear by them; others swear at them.

Pro: Traditional backpacking boots offer ankle support for rugged conditions, especially for hikers with weak ankles or poor balance.
Pro: Leather boots are a good choice for hikers with heavy packs.
Pro: Leather boots are durable and can be resoled and repaired so they last for years.
Pro: Leather boots are waterproof, and come up high enough above the ankle to keep sand and mud out of the boot.
Con: Traditional boots are heavy - up to four pounds per pair - making hiking more tiring.
Con: Leather boots are more expensive than the alternatives.
Con: Stiff heavyweight boots are more likely to cause blisters, and they need to be broken in.
Con: Leather boots are bulky to pack in luggage.
Verdict: Not usually necessary, but a good choice for hikers with weak ankles, heavy loads, or those going into rough conditions where durability and support are important.

Lightweight Trekking Shoes: Pros and Cons

Lightweight trekking shoes look and feel a lot like running shoes, but they are usually a better choice because they have stiffer soles with better traction for slippery trails.

Pro: Trekking shoes are lightweight, which means the hiker exerts less effort to lift them.
Pro: Trekking shoes pack more easily into luggage.
Pro: Trekking shoes are less expensive.
Pro: Trekking shoes are a good choice for hot weather and deserts hiking.
Con: Because trekking shoes don't cover the ankle, blister-causing dirt and sand can creep in.
Con: Trekking shoes don't offer as much support, making them a poor choice for hikers with heavy packs.
Con: Hikers with balance issues or weak ankles might need the support of an above-the-ankle boot..
Con: Trekking shoes aren't waterproof, making them poor choices for wet or snowy conditions, especially if kicking steps into snow banks is necessary.
Con: Trekking shoes are the least durable.
Verdict: Great choice for day hikers. A viable choice for long-distance backpackers with strong ankles who have managed to minimize the weight of their packs.

Leather-Fabric Hybrid Hiking Boots: Pros and Cons

Leather-fabric boots combine the best of both worlds.They are the best choice for hikers who trek in a variety of conditions. Leather-fabric hybrids have leather for support and fabric (usually Cordura) for flexibility and breathability.

Pros: Hybrid outdoor boots need less breaking in than leather boots. (Note: they can cause blisters if not broken in at least a little).
Pro: Hybrid hiking boots come up over the ankle, keeping dirt out and offering ankle support sufficient for most hiking conditions.
Pros: Hybrids are rugged enough to handle uneven terrain, scree, and even kicking steps into snow.
Pros: Hybrids offer ankle support, though not as much as leather boots.
Cons: Hybrids are not waterproof, and in wet conditions can become heavy.
Cons: Hybrids are heavier than trekking shoes, and are not necessary for day hikers on easy terrain.
Verdict: Good choice for most backpackers hiking in a variety of conditions.

These three categories of hiking boots give today's backpackers a choice of footwear for any conditions (although specialty boots are also available for mountaineering and extreme cold weather). As a rule, most backpackers today choose leather-fabric hybrid boots. Day-hikers lean to trekking shoes, as do ultralight backpackers who prioritize light weight over support or durability. And a few traditionalists stick to leather boots, valuing their stability and ruggedness.

The 10 Essentials for Outdoor Survival, and a Few More

2011-07-14T21:01:00.000-07:00

When things go wrong in the mountains, who survives? Who gets through a surprise blizzard, being trapped in a snow cave during a for three days, or stuck on a high ridge with an injury? The answer may be as simple as having a few essential pieces of outdoor equipment.

At least that's the conclusion the Mountaineers came to. In the 1930s, this Seattle-based hiking, climbing, and conservation organization started evaluating mountaineering accidents and the role of gear in survival. They looked at what equipment equipment people had with them, and who survived with what, and the result was a list of ten essentials -- items of emergency outdoor equipment -- that no climber should be without.

Climbing is a bit different than hiking, and new technology has added some elements to the list. Over the years, different authors have combined the elements differently, so when people talk about the "10 Essentials" they may not actually be talking about the same items. I've collected as many of these lists as I've been able to find and pulled them all together into a sort of "uber-10-Essentials," list, which includes all of the Mountaineers' original ten items, plus a few more, like cell phones and GPS, that reflect recent developments in technology.

Essential Hiking Gear and Clothing to Carry in a Backpack or Daypack

Navigation equipment. GPS’s are great, but batteries can wear out and electronic equipment can be damaged in a storm or during a fall, so a compass is a necessary backup. A map is also essential. While a GPS can tell you where you are, a map is better for planning your route, giving you information about elevation, obstacle, water sources, campsites, and emergency exit routes.
Clothing, including rain gear. A hot day won’t necessarily stay hot, and a dry day won’t necessarily stay dry. Above treeline, conditions can change rapidly, even in summer, and in many mountain ranges, it can snow. Extra clothes are essential, including waterproof outerwear. Don’t bring cotton: it doesn’t retain warmth when wet, and doesn’t wick moisture away from your skin. In cold weather or very high mountains, when snow if a possibility and hypothermia is a potential issue, having extra clothes, including a hat and gloves, is especially important. For day-hikers (who don't carry tarps and tents with them), some experts suggest bringing a plastic sheet or garbage bags, to use as a make-shift shelter.
First aid kit. Start with a prepackaged first aid kit, available from outdoor stores, and modify it to meet your needs, including any medication. A first aid class is a good idea; a wilderness first aid class is a better one. Or bring a small first aid manual that fit easily into a pack.
Multi-purpose tool. Multi-purpose army knives can help with a variety of tasks, including cutting bandages, removing splinters, opening cans and bottles, and fixing broken gear. A mini-tool is practical and lightweight. A partial roll of duct tape is handy, too. (You can roll a couple of yards of duct tape around a pen.)
Flashlight. A flashlight with fresh bulbs and batteries will help if you’re unexpectedly stranded in the dark. A mini with several LED lights is a good choice: lightweight and long-lasting.
Sun screen and sun glasses. In snow, above treeline, and in deserts, these are essential.
Cell phone. Cell phones don’t always work in deep wildernesses, but they work in many areas, and are always worth taking. Have the emergency number to call on hand. Leave an itinerary at home with fiends and relatives, just in case the cell phone doesn’t work or gets damaged. Some professional guides take satellite phone into very remote areas.

Essential Food, Water, and Related Accessories for Backcountry Survival

Water and a way to purify it. Adequate hydration is probably the most important thing hikers can do stay healthy, especially at high altitudes, in hot weather – and, surprisingly, in cold weather. Without enough water, human bodies are more susceptible to environmental afflictions such as hypothermia and altitude sickness. Carrying purification tablets, water filters, or purifiers means that hikers don’t have to worry about whether the water is safe to drink.
Food. Hiking takes a lot of energy, and sometimes more time than expected. A detour, a wrong turn, an injury, inclement weather, or trail damage can turn a short hike into a long one. Bring extra snacks such as granola bars, nuts and raisins, dried fruit, or energy bars.
Firestarter and matches. Fires can help prepare food and hot water, and can also fend off hypothermia and signal for help. Bring waterproof matches and firestarter (either commercial fire ribbon, or collected bits and pieces of pine needles, birch bark, paper, lint from pockets).

By carrying these items and applying common sense, hikers and other outdoorspeople can stay out of trouble, even when conditions turn inclement.

Adventure Campers FAQs on Long-Distance Hiking

2011-07-14T08:22:00.000-07:00

So, if you were 11, 12, or 13 years old, had just completed a 10-mile hike on the Appalachian Trail, and were watching a slide show about long distance hiking, what would YOU want to know? These campers at Lakeville, Connecticut-based Camp Sloane's adventure program asked dozens of questions. Interestingly, they were much more concerned about the experience than the equipment. I have no doubt we'll be seeing more of these awesome kids on the trails.

Q) Did you ever get into really bad trouble or think you were going to die?
A) No, but that's mostly because I'm the kind of person who reads everything before doing anything, and if the book says take two quarts of water, I take three, and if it says be sure you know how to use a map and compass, I take a class or get someone to show me. Most backcountry emergencies can be prevented by good planning, following the "rules," and common sense.

Q) What were the most dangerous animals?
A) Besides mosquitoes? Rattlesnakes and bears are two animals you'll often see, and many people fear, but while both can be dangerous, neither of them is usually a problem unless something weird happens -- like stepping on a snake, so keep your eyes peeled!

Q) Who were some of the friends you made while hiking?
A) There's a long list, but one example is that I met some Norwegian girls in Nepal, and we kept in touch, and later saw one of them in New Zealand and another in New York. We still keep in touch. I have many other hiking friends scattered around the world.

Q) How long is the longest you ever went without a shower? (meaning a real indoor shower with hot water).
A) About 20 days. But there were lots of cold showers and lakes and streams during that hike. The longest without washing up at all was an eight-day winter trip.

Q) How much water did you carry?
A) Anywhere from none (in the snow-covered High Sierra, where water was everywhere) to almost two gallons in the southern California desert. Of course, as soon as you start drinking, you are carrying less.

Q) Who did you hike with?
A) My husband (now ex-husband). We invited friends to join us for short (and sometimes long) sections along the way, and we also met people while hiking with whom we hung out for a while.

Q) When did you first feel like you were a successful hiker?
A) Well, I was pretty proud of my first really long hike, which was 200 miles in California's High Sierra. But I think success in hiking really means enjoying all the days you're out there... You don't want to have 180 miserable days and then call it a "success" because you finally got somewhere. So I would say that really feeling like I was enjoying every day on the trail made the hikes feel successful.

Q) How did you adjust back to regular life after you stopped?
A) I tried not to. I don't live in or near a city anymore; I live here in the mountains. I work at home, and I travel about six times a year.

Got questions about long-distance hiking? Ask them here.

These Are Days You'll Remember....

2011-07-13T06:48:00.000-07:00

Long distance hiking days.

I'm listening to the song by the same title. "These Are Days" by 10,000 Maniacs seems the perfect soundtrack to thru-hiking memories, and I'm using it to introduce a slide show on long-distance backpacking to about 70 kids at my old summer camp later today.

Remember slides? Those film things with the cardboard edges, and you have to put them all in the carousel one at a time (backwards and upside down) and if you get one backwards, it's always the one with actual writing on it.

I've got two songs I like to use to open and close slide shows about hiking. In addition to "These are Days, "What a Wonderful World" gets my vote.

It can be overwhelming to look at hundreds of slides of the Triple Crown Trails (The Appalachian, Pacific Crest, and Continental Divide national scenic trails) all at once. Plus, I admit that a few spectacular slides from other places around the world have snuck in because really, when you have put a hat, a pair of sun glasses, and a tie on a giant lobelia near the summit of Mt. Kenya, how can you NOT use that picture to show the goofy fun of hiking? (I'll post that picture here as soon as I can scan it.... another project on the "to do" list).

Two things strike me in this trip down memory lane:

First, the incomparable variety of landscapes on our long-distance hiking trails. The Triple Crown trails add up to some 7,500 miles of some of the most glorious terrain on the planet. There's the "long green tunnel" (aka the Appalachian Trail), which turns blazing orange in autumn, and then brown followed by white, and has plenty of above treeline grandeur, as well. Or take the wild and harsh drylands of southern California and New Mexico, and the very different mountain landscapes of the Great Smoky Mountains, the White Mountains, the Colorado Rockies, the High Sierra, the North Cascades, the northern Rockies. I'm always asked if I have a favorite place. How could I possibly? How could you ever choose?

And second: The people. It seems contradictory, but hiking in the wilderness is (as long distance hikers know) also about the people you meet along the way. I've hiked with college kids and grandparents, with doctors and police officers and students and the gainfully unemployed. And then there are people from the local communities: The purveyors of trail magic. There are no Muggles in this world. When everything in real life turns cranky, it's comforting to remember the people who leave out a few gallons of water for hikers on a dry stretch, or, in one case, a basket of fresh vegetables. People who invite disgustingly odorous hikers into their homes for a shower, a meal, and a bed. The volunteers who keep the trails passable. The locals who leave a couple of cans of beer in a lean-to on a hot day for hikers to find. From the raucousness of trail Days in Damascus Virginia to pictures of hikers relaxing in camp, playing music, goofing off in the rain, or posing atop Katahdin, these pictures show life on the trail.

I've been dreading going through my slides in order to organize them for scanning, Thousands of pictures makes for a massive filing job, and filing is not my best subject. But after spending the last couple of days pouring over photos of sunsets over the Maine ponds, above-tree huts in the Whites, snowfields at Muir pass, sand Dunes in the great Divide Basin, the Wind River mountains when the grasses turn russet, the alpenglow on a Rocky Mountain ridgeline, the groves of quaking aspen turning into treasure troves of gold leaf coins... instead of dreading the project, I'm looking forward to it.

These WERE great days ... and I remember.

I'll be writing much more about them here.

Hypothermia Basics for Outdoorspeople

2011-07-12T22:38:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's summer. And it's broiling n many parts of the country -- but not everywhere. Several feet of snow is still piled on top of High Sierra trails. In mountains throughout the country temperatures do what they always do at high elevations: They drop 3 - 5 degrees per thousand feet. It may seem absurd to think about hypothermia when you leave a warm valley and start sweating your way uphill. But weather changes quickly in mountains, and on an exposed ridge in a sudden storm, you can be vulnerable in minutes.

I've seen too many people shivering in the high country because they didn't bring enough clothing or rain gear. And I'm sick of reading about people dying in places like the White Mountains of New Hampshire. What a tragic, preventable waste. So here are some tips to keep you safe from the so-called "killer of the unprepared."

Prevent Hypothermia With Good Hiking Equipment, Common Sense

Unfortunately, hypothermia can progress very quickly from a simple chill to a life-threatening emergency, and it is difficult to treat in the field. The good news is that prevention is almost always possible with some forethought and good outdoors equipment, including a rain jacket (Take a full set of rain gear in high or northern mountains; a simple rain jacket is usually enough for mountains n warmer climes, such as the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia or dryland mountains in Arizona, New Mexico, and Southern California. and new Mexico). Also take an extra insulating layer and a hat. Take more clothes -- including gloves -- in colder, higher mountains such as the Colorado Rockies or the North Cascades. Remember that in some of these ranges, it can snow any day of the year. If the water is frozen, think what the temperature can do to you!

In typical summer conditions, a rain jacket may be all you need to break the wind or protect you from the rain. In colder mountains, add an insulating layer. Wicking clothing draws moisture away from the skin. Avoid wearing cotton, because it absorbs water and loses its insulating ability when wet.
Heed the saying "Cold feet? Put on a hat." Most body heat is lost through the head, so wear a hat or your rain jacket's hood.
When taking breaks, sit on an insulating pad or a backpack to prevent losing body heat to the cold ground.
Stay dry, inside and out. This means not overexerting so much that clothes are wet from sweat.
Bring extra warm dry clothes, and at the end of the day, change into dry clothes immediately.
Pay attention to chills and put on more clothes, a hat, or terminate exposure.
Realize that hypothermia can strike even on a mild-day, especially if it is damp or windy.
Drink and eat small quantities of high-calorie foods frequently.

Recognize Symptoms of Hypothermia and Terminate Exposure Immediately

Hypothermia often goes unrecognized because outdoorspeople mistake the symptoms for just being cold. Shivering alone is not a sign of hypothermia -- but can lead to it. Never ignore being cold!

The “umbles” (The hiker stumbles, mumbles, fumbles, or grumbles).
Shivering stops, but the victim still feels cold.
Fatigue, forgetfulness and irrationality.
Staggering, lack of coordination, falling.
Finally, unconsciousness. (Obviously, this is an emergency, and can be life-threatening.)

Hypothermia Treatment

If you suspect you or a hiking partner may be on the way to hypothermia, it is critical to terminate exposure as soon as possible. Take a side trail out. (This means having a map with you that shows possible routes back to civilization.) If you have to stay in the backcountry:

Put on more clothes, especially hats and gloves.
Change (or help the victim change into warm dry clothes).
Rest behind a wind-break, in a trail shelter, on the lee side of a bush or large rock, or in a tent or trail shelter.
Gently warm the victim by sharing a sleeping bag, starting a fire, or making a hot drink.
If necessary, go (or call) for help: If the victim cannot assist in his or her own rescue by following directions and walking out, a rescue may need to be arranged.

Mountain hiking can be fun and exhilarating, but rapidly changing weather and exertion can combine in dangerous ways. Preventing hypothermia is much easier than treating it. Bring adequate gear, including the so-called "10 Essentials" Drink and eat often, don't over-exert, recognize the symptoms of hypothermia, and terminate exposure when necessary.

Staying Safe in Deserts and Drylands

2011-07-11T19:32:00.000-07:00

First, some definitions: Desert hiking refers to hiking where annual rainfall is less than 9 inches. Dryland hiking refers to places where annual rain is more than that, perhaps 9 -15 inches, but where water scarcity and heat are dominant influences in the environment.

In the United States, this means most of Arizona and New Mexico, much of Nevada, Utah, and southern California, and parts of Colorado, Idaho, eastern Washington, and eastern Oregon. For backpacking and hiking in both deserts and drylands, the challenges and strategies are similar. Both require planning, acclimating while on the trip, assiduous attention to water, and a good dose of common sense.

Hiking in places like the Grand Canyon and Sonoran Desert can be beautiful, but surviving in and (even) enjoying the desert requires acclimating and preparation.

Preparation for Desert and Dryland Hiking Vacations

Check out seasonal weather patterns. Trails that may be sweltering in the summer can be comfortable (or even ice covered) in the winter. For example, the North Kaibab Trail on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, is frequently covered with ice in the winter at higher elevations. Even trails at the bottom of the Grand Canyon are comfortably cool in winter.
Seasonal factors affect water availability: Drylands surrounded by mountains have more water after the spring snowmelt. Drylands subject to a monsoon season have more water just after seasonal rains. Guidebooks have this information, but check locally for current seasonal information, because the condition of seasonal water sources varies.
Get a trail map! To reliably find seasonal water sources such as springs requires a 1:25,000 U.S.G.S. map, available from the U.S.G.S or local outfitters. A G.P.S. alone is not enough. Nor is Google Maps! Maps of trails need to be detailed enough to show springs, windmills, water tanks, and buildings, all of which are potential water sources.
Realize that a cell phone may not work in a remote desert with no cell towers, so leave a hiking plan and expected time of return with family or friends. Portable satellite phones are also an option.
Get in shape. One of the biggest problems in desert and dryland hiking is acclimating to the heat and physical exertion. A body that is in shape will sweat less, a huge benefit in an arid environment.
Hiking and camping gear for deeerts shoudl include a wide-brimmed hat, sunglasses, enough water containers, lightweight breathable clothing that covers your entire body (in case of blazing sun or sunburn), sunscreen, bug repellent, and a warm layer for cold desert nights.
Mark all known water sources on your map and calculate the mileage and hiking hours between them.

Hiking and Backpacking Gear and Strategies for Desert Travel and Safety

The heat-water relationship is paramount: The more extreme the heat, the more water required. Bring enough water (and containers to hold the water)! The amount will depend on exertion, your fitness, your metabolism, and the air temperature. Figure at least a quart per hiking hour; For more detailed recommendations, see the National Park Service recommendations for the Grand Canyon..
Never walk past a water source without drinking as much as possible and filling water bottles with enough water to get to the next water source.
Try to hike in the coolest parts of the day: Early morning and evening are best. During the heat of the day, walk slowly and take shade breaks whenever the opportunity presents itself. Try to find a comfortably steady pace and avoid over-exerting.
Be aware of desert fauna. Rattlesnakes are hard to spot (until they rattle). Shake out boots before putting them on in the morning, as scorpions may have decided to nest there. When rock scrambling, never put hands where you can't see them.
Wear clothing that covers as much skin as practicable. Less water evaporates from covered skin than from exposed skin.
Eat continually to replace electrolytes lost to sweating. Light easy-to-digest snacks -- GORP, crackers, cereal bars -- with salts and sugars are best for hot weather hiking,

A desert environment can be both dangerous and beautiful. Following these basic strategies and staying aware will help hikers minimize the danger and enjoy the beauty

Major Grand Canyon Trails for Day-Hikers

2011-07-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

Grand Canyon National Park's glorious desert landscape can also be deadly. In the summer, the heat increases as you descend into the canyon, with temperatures sometimes reaching well over 100 degrees. There is very little water and almost no shade. So rangers recommend the major "corridor" trails to beginning canyon and desert hikers.

The Grand Canyon National Park's "corridor trails" are so named because they act as the major north-south corridors across the canyon. They are also the trails tourists are most familiar with. The South Kaibab and the Bright Angel trails both depart from the South Rim and descend all the way to the Grand Canyon's floor. The North Kaibab Trail descends to the floor from the North Rim. The trails merge at the bottom near Bright Angel Campground and Phantom Ranch.

Rangers recommend the corridor trails to first time Grand Canyon visitors because these paths are wide, with relatively gentle switchbacks. (In fact, the corridor trails are used by mule trips into the Grand Canyon.) They are well-maintained and are the ones most patrolled by rangers. None-the-less, these trails can still pose a danger for inexperienced or ill-equipped visitors. Some desert hiking strategies can help keep beginning (and experienced) hikers safe.

Grand Canyon Safety Tips for First-Time Hikers

Day hikers should not try to go all the way to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back up in one day. People have (literally) died trying to do this.
When starting the hike down, notice that the National Park Service has placed signs telling hikers to turn back if they are out of water. Heed them!
Remember: It is much easier to walk downhill than back up, and what seemed like a quick and easy hike when descending can turn into an arduous grind coming back up. Figure at least twice as much time (and at least twice as much water) to hike up as it took going down.
Wear reasonable footwear: Athletic shoes are fine. Flip flops are not.
Bring a blister kit. Blisters can turn a pleasant walk into sheer misery. The heat of the Grand Canyon means people sweat more than normal, which leads to blisters.
Bring clothing that provides protection against the sun, as well as plenty of sunscreen.
Bring lots of water -- at least one quart for every hour of planned hiking time. (Some people may need more.)
Bring some easy-to eat snacks like GORP (a mixture of nuts, raisins, seeds, and sweets).
Mule trains have the right of way. Move off the trail as directed by the pack-train leader.

Stats and Facts About Grand Canyon Corridor Trails

The South Kaibab Trail is seven miles long and descends about 5,000 feet. Most hikers who are going to the Canyon floor, camping, then returning to the South Rim, use the Kaibab Trail for the descent. This trail has terrific views, but it's a bit steeper than the Bright Angel.
The Bright Angel Trail descends 5,000 feet in 8 miles (and then continues another 2 miles to Phantom Ranch). It is most commonly used by hikers ascending from the Canyon Floor because it's a little gentler and has a bit more shade. Hikers who have a permit can break the ascent into two days, and stop to camp at Indian Gardens Campsite, about half way up. There is water at Indian Gardens.
The North Kaibab Trail is 14 miles long and descends 6,0000 feet from the North Rim to the Canyon Floor. (The North Rim is about 1000 feet higher than the South Rim). Most hikers can descend in one day, but break the return trip into two days by camping at Cottonwood Creek at about the halfway point. Water is available at several places along the route.

Hikers should be sure that no matter whether they take the North Kaibab, South Kaibab, or Bright Angel Trail (or any others), they have enough water, and that someone knows where they plan to go - and when they plan to be back. Grand Canyon National Park is Arizona's most popular tourist attraction, and an iconic America landscape, but it can also be dangerous. Some caution and common sense will ensure a safe and enjoyable visit.

Altitude Sickness: A Basic Primer for High-Elevation Mountain Hiking

2011-07-11T09:07:00.000-07:00

Summer is the best time of year for tackling high trails in high mountains. In June, snow starts melting, in July, trails are mostly passable, in August, mosquitoes are less of a problem. But one issue can rear it's head: Altitude sickness.

Also called Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS), altitude sickness is a risk on alpine adventures, particularly for people who live at low elevations.. It is easily prevented by acclimating and responding to early symptoms.

Altitude sickness is caused by the fact that the higher the elevation, the lower the air pressure; hence, the less oxygen that is available. Early symptoms include shortness of breath, even when only lightly exerting, as well as headaches, and nausea. If the traveler ignores these symptoms or continues to ascend, symptoms may worsen and turn into full-blown AMS. These symptoms include dizziness, confusion, lack of coordination, and staggering. In the late stages, potentially fatal pulmonary and cerebral edemas can occur.

Danger Zones for Altitude Sickness

Hikers and climbers on adventure travel trips frequently ascent high above sea level. examples of popular high altitude treks include trekking the Inca Trail in Peru, climbing any of East Africa's volcanoes, trekking in Nepal and Bhutan, glacier skiing in Europe, hiking in much of Colorado, California, and Wyoming, and climbing the Pacific Northwest and Mexican volcanoes. It is also a possibility when ascending via car, train, or even ski lift.

Symptoms of Altitude Sickness

The first rule of high elevations is to "Blame it on the altitude." This means that travelers to alpine areas above 8,000 feet should assume any maladies or irregularities they are experiencing are due to altitude. If something is wrong up high, don't pass it off as "allergies" or "jetlag." It's probably altitude related, and if it is, it needs to be dealt with.

The common preliminary symptoms of altitude sickness are headaches and nausea; these are warnings that the body is not getting enough oxygen. With mild symptoms, sometimes all that is needed is a rest day. This gives the body a chance to acclimate. Most people can acclimate to the kinds of elevations common on alpine adventure travel vacations (14,000 to 16,000 feet; sometimes more) if given enough time. In fact, time to acclimate is the number one way to prevent altitude sickness – and lack of time to acclimate is the number one cause of it.

Sometimes, simply taking a rest day is enough to solve the problem. The body adjusts, and the traveler moves on. But if symptoms persist or increase, afflicted travelers should go downhill until they feel better.

Who is at Risk of Altitude Sickness?

The short answer is that anyone can be at risk, even people who have successfully climbed to high elevations in the past. People who live at sea level are especially vulnerable when they change altitudes too quickly, for example, when flying from sea level to a high-altitude town or ski area. In addition, people who are elderly, frail, chronically ill, or who have breathing problems are especially at risk.

It is impossible to say at precisely what elevation a trekker may feel the effects of altitude. Many factors influence travelers' responses to altitude, including overall fitness, the length of time travelers have been at altitude, whether the travelers are adequately hydrated, and how slowly (or quickly) they ascended. Further confusing the picture is the fact that the same hiker may do the exact same trip twice in a row – and might respond differently each time.

Many travelers who live at sea-leel feel some shortness of breath at higher elevation ski areas (around 8,000 feet), such as those in Colorado or the Alps, or while driving scenic mountain roads over high passes. Most healthy adults adjust easily to altitudes of less than 10,000 feet, although it may take a few days to get up to full speed.

Minimizing the Risk of Altitude Sickness

Above 10,000 feet, the standard recommendation is that trekkers try to gain no more than 1,000 feet of net elevation per day, although, following the mountaineer's dictum of "Climb high, sleep low," they may climb higher during the day, which helps acclimatization. If you fly to a high altitude town from which you plan to start your trek, take a couple of rest days to get used to the elevation. This is not always possible, in which case, take rest days en route. Time is the most effective defense against altitude sickness: It allows the body to catch up with the altitude.

The second most important defense is adequate hydration: "A happy mountaineer voids clear." Drink even when not thirsty; in cold dry weather, hikers are often unaware of incipient dehydration

Finally, there are medical drugs. If time is a problem (as it often is on guided adventure trips), talk to a doctor about the drug Diamox, which is used as a prophylactic. Be aware that it is a preventative, not a treatment: It must be taken before any symptoms arise.

With adequate planning, plenty of time and water, and an understanding of the symptoms and danger of AMS, altitude sickness is easily preventable.

Welcome to Hiker Writer

2011-07-11T08:39:00.000-07:00

Thanks for visiting Hiker Writer. I'll be blogging here about all things hiking related: Where to go, what to do, and how to do it.

Over the past 20 years, I've hiked more than 17,000 miles on six continents (Nope, nothing in Antarctica... yet), including the complete Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest trail, and Continental Divide Trail, among others.

I'll be posting articles about gear, safety, lightweight hiking, great trails, getting started, hiking with kids, and much more.