Zero Day

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Kearsarge Lakes

Zero Day = Hiking day with zero miles hiked. 

I was ready for a Zero Day. We had hiked over Forester Pass and then had a seven mile diversion, off the JMT, over Kearsarge Pass (elevation 11,800) down to Onion Valley to resupply in Independence.

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One Step at A Time

Its a long long road to freedom

A winding steep and high

But if you walk in love 

With the wind on your wing

And cover the earth

 the songs you sing

The miles fly by

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The Path to Forester Pass – Elevation 13,200

As we began day four our heads were clearer, our pace was stronger, and our confidence returned.

Over the next 2 days we emerged from high elevations to even higher elevations.  Kinda reminds me of the old joke.  How do elephants get into trees?  They jump out of higher ones.

The vistas became panoramas … hope the few pictures give a glimpse of the awesomeness.

 

Grams

Sixty pounds. What was I thinking?

Here we were at the beginning of the famed West Coast Trail in June 1999 for our first ever backpacking trip. The experts say you shouldn’t pick the West Coast Trail for your first backpacking experience … ha, what do they know.  We’d updated our last will and testament, told our kids we loved them, and packed everything except the kitchen sink to make room for the scrabble game and off we trekked.

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Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine

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“How old do you think I am?” he said
I said, well, I don’t know
He said, “I turned 65 about 11 months ago.”
I was sittin’ in Miami pourin’ blended whiskey down
When this old gray black gentleman was cleanin’ up the lounge
There wasn’t anyone around ‘cept this old man and me
The guy who ran the bar was watchin’ “Ironsides” on TV
Uninvited, he sat down and opened up his mind
On old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Tom T Hall

I turned 65 about 10 months ago, and uninvited, I share my mind on old hikers, the John Muir Trail, and visiting Lone Pine. Continue reading Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine

Why?

The “rocks” were just out of town in the coulee.  I spent hours as a young boy on the “rocks” carving initials in the sandstone,  then wandering around the coulee eventually making my way down to Kneehill Creek to investigate the goings on of its meanderings.  Perhaps this is where my love of hiking and backpacking began.

Why do I spend multiple days at a time in a tent, sleeping on the ground, walking along trails that have no purpose? It’s a good question.

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