spouses

Hiking Together

Published by Ray Rippel on January 23, 2017 16 Permalink

My wife, Kathleen, and I have not yet thru-hiked the JMT together (although we have a hike planned for this year). We have hiked together often, though, including a seventy-mile stretch of the John Muir Trail. We both look back at the experience with very fond memories.

Unfortunately, not all hikes-for-couples work out so well. Three rules made the difference for us:

The most important was: no complaining! Morale on the trail is a fragile thing; we didn’t want discomfort on the hike to wield power over our experience. Either of us could point out that we were cold (and needed a layer), or had a headache (and needed a pill), or were dragging a bit (and needed a break). Commenting on a problem with the intent of finding a solution was fine. Just no gratuitous griping.
The second rule was: the slower person leads. In our case that happened to be Kathleen, and she led every step of the way. Our goal was to hike together, and by putting her in front, with an agreement that she could walk at any speed she wanted, we accomplished just that. One afternoon, we met an older gentleman who was hiking the trail with his son—except that he wasn’t. His son had sped ahead to, well, we weren’t quite sure where, since we hadn’t seen him. (They were hiking northbound; we were going south.) Apparently, the son had decided to take a side trip and dad was on his own. Perhaps the son was having fun, but the dad (who was an inexperienced hiker) was worried that perhaps he had made a wrong turn.
Last, both of us got to do what we wanted. Frequently, I would want to stop to take a picture (which often entails much more than, pause, click). Either one of us could call for a break. When we got to camp and had chores done, I liked to wander around, talk to other hikers, and explore. Kathleen preferred the commodious confines of the tent where she indulged in a bath (accomplished with the use of a couple of baby wipes). Even though we were together, we hiked our own hike!

A couple of last notes, particularly for male backpackers. Assuming you succeed in getting your other half out on the trail, do whatever you can to make her comfortable while she’s there. Do more than your share of chores, like setting up camp and cooking. Don’t be the guy who lets his wife do everything, and then can’t understand why she doesn’t want to go backpacking again!

Last, if you’re trying to get your wife or girlfriend to try a long, multi-day hike through the backcountry, be prepared to hear all kinds of objections revolving around the bugs, the dirt, and sleeping on the hard ground. None of these may be the real problem. You can allay her worries by introducing your wife to an experienced female hiker so she can answer the question that really is bothering her: how does she do what bears do in the woods?

Good hiking, Ray

Filed under: Blog and Tagged: people, psychology, spouses

Seven Years of Lessons Learned

Published by Ray Rippel on August 19, 2014 8 Permalink

It has been seven years since I started hiking again in a big way, and I have learned a ton. That’s good, because I am no longer young enough to just “power through” my mistakes. Thinking-my-way along the trail is a far better approach.

Here are my top ten lessons. If you learned most of these in your first six months, I guess that gives you some insight into the way my mind works—or doesn’t.

1. Weight matters. I don’t care if it is weight around your waist or in your pack, nothing improves the experience of hiking quite like carrying less. You need to stay safe, and you don’t want to shave so many ounces that you no longer are enjoying yourself, but weight DEFINITELY matters. Imagine if you lost ten pounds of body weight and saved another ten pounds with lighter gear. Do it.

2. Get trekking poles and learn how to use them. Nothing will end a hike faster than an injury and the number one way people get injured on the trail is from falls. My trekking poles have saved me from a fall more times than I can count.

3. Take long and more frequent breaks. If you see someplace idyllic along the trail, don’t rush past it! My first thru-hike I often pulled into camp between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m., then went to bed early. The second time around I took more and longer breaks. I got to my campsite later, but still in plenty of time, and with great memories of the places I stopped to enjoy. A nap alongside a babbling brook is a wonderful thing.

4. Your most important gear choice is your footwear. Wear what works for you, even if it is a little heavier and even if it bucks the current trends. Oh, and socks are part of the package. Here’s a tip: if you buy a pair of boots or shoes you are unsure of, wear them exclusively inside (perhaps at work) for a couple of days. Chances are you will be able to take them back if they start giving you problems.

5. If you are hiking with someone, work out how you are going to hike ahead of time. Morale is fragile on the trail, and can easily be damaged if one person’s expectations are different from another’s. Are you going to walk with each other, or go your own pace? What are your daily mileage goals? Work this out before you begin, and if you are hiking with your spouse, read this.

6. Take something to read on the trail. I love hiking in the Sierra Nevada, but by the end of the day, I am ready for a vacation from my vacation. Back in my sailing days, one of my favorite authors used to complain that he never understood why there were paintings of seascapes on the walls of boat cabins. His point was: if you want to see the sea, go topside and look at it! He much preferred landscapes. I feel the same way about reading material. No John Muir memoirs for me, after dark, in the tent; instead, give me a murder mystery in an urban setting.

7. The first priority when selecting food is bringing something you will actually eat. Rummaging through the hiking buckets at Red’s and MTR is always a lesson in human nature. Lots of people seem to consider a hiking holiday to be a good time to start eating healthy. What many folks don’t realize is how hard it is to eat enough calories to keep yourself going. You aren’t going to do that if you refuse to eat what you brought. Chocolate, nuts, sweets, pasta—whatever you will eat should be in your bear canister. Leave the kale and sugar-, gluten-, or fat-free stuff for after the hike.

8. If possible, take a zero day at Muir Trail Ranch. It isn’t always possible; reservations can be hard to get. But, for me, the very first date I set (upon which everything else depends) is my reservation at Muir Trail Ranch. The food is wonderful, the camaraderie satisfying, the bath facilities opulent, and, with a location almost precisely half-way along the trail, there is much to recommend spending two nights.

9. Don’t let the big climbs worry you. The climb out of Yosemite Valley? The first day energy will carry you through. The fifty-one switchbacks of Bear Ridge? Hike it early and you’ll be done before you know it. The Golden Staircase? Nothin-but-a-thing. Glen Pass? Okay…there you got me. I do wish they would install an escalator there.

10. Take photos and videos with yourself in them, and keep a trail journal. There will come a time when you are not going to be able to do this anymore. Don’t you want some great memories? Photos, videos, and a trail journal are the best way to memorialize your experience—to yourself. Sure, take a few of the “pretty” pictures so you can remember what you’ve seen, but then get yourself in there, too. Years from now, this will be pretty neat to see.

Good hiking, Ray

Filed under: Blog and Tagged: books, falls, gear, psychology, safety, spouses, zero day

Ten Blog Posts to Read Before You Begin

Published by Ray Rippel on July 23, 2013 2 Permalink

I’ve been writing this blog for well over a year now, and certain blog posts have generated the most interest and (at least according to some readers) have been the most helpful. Here is a list of ten you might want to visit (or re-visit) before you start your adventure.

1. Resupply Packages. Five good ideas on what to take and what to leave out.

2. Near Perfection, at Seventeen-and-a-Half Ounces. The best field guide to take on your trip.

3. Probable Dry Stretches. There was little snow this year in the Sierra Nevada. Here is a list of places unlikely to have much water.

4. Cameras on the Trail, Part 2, Part 3. This three part series discusses the options and leaves the decisions to you.

5. Zero Days, Part 2, Part 3. Should you take one or more days off from hiking while on the trail? Another three-part series.

6. Altitude Sickness, Part 2. A two-part series on the dangers associated with altitude sickness and strategies to avoid it.

7. The Evening I Almost Quit. Read what I did wrong and learn to avoid the same mistakes.

8. Trekking Poles. Get them. Learn how to use them.

9. Taking Care of Your Wheels. All about taking care of your feet on the trail.

10. The First Day. What’s it like stepping off from Happy Isles?

Special bonus for hiking couples: Hiking with Your Spouse. (This is actually one of my most read posts.)

One last point: read the comments on the blog posts, too. There are some real nuggets of wisdom in there!

Good hiking, Ray

Filed under: Blog and Tagged: altitude sickness, books, camera, falls, John Muir Trail, obstacles, people, photography, psychology, resupply, safety, spouses, zero day

Kids on the John Muir Trail

Published by Ray Rippel on May 21, 2013 12 Permalink

My wife, Kathleen, and I hiked a portion of the John Muir Trail in the summer of 2007. I am a huge fan of hiking with your spouse, but that’s not what this post is about. Instead, I’d like to describe one of the many memorable experiences we had on the trail.

It was June 22nd at about 9:30 in the morning. We had camped at the southern end of Lyell Canyon the night before, and had just reached the top of Donohue Pass. We shed our backpacks and were resting our weary legs when we saw a group of hikers coming from the opposite direction.

There were three: two men, who appeared to be in their mid-thirties, and a young boy we would later learn was twelve-years-old. I’m afraid neither of us can recall the young man’s trail name. I seem to remember it was a synonym for “rascal”, while Kathleen thinks it was a synonym for “impatient”. In the fifteen minutes we spent with him, either would have fit.

As we talked to the group, the young, impatient, rascal was almost vibrating in place—about to burst with some inner energy. He wore on his face this look of anticipation, seemingly hanging on every word, waiting for us to finally get around to asking the magic question.

“How far are you going today?”

One of the older men mentioned stopping in Tuolumne Meadow for cheeseburgers, and then pressing on.

“Where are you heading past Tuolumne?”

At last the boy’s eyes lit up. He flung his arms in the air and shouted, “Canada!”

We hadn’t realized it, but we were in the company of PCTers. (The Pacific Crest Trail, or PCT, is a walking trail that stretches from the Mexican border in Southern California to the Canadian border in northern Washington State. It is 2,663 miles long. A mother/daughter team hiked the entire trail in 2012.)

Neither of us will ever forget him. His enthusiasm was infectious, his confidence high, and his pack rode lightly on his shoulders. And this wasn’t merely beginning-of-the-trip excitement. Donohue Pass is almost halfway through the state of California; it’s a long, long way from the Mexican border near Campo, where they had begun months earlier.

To this day we wonder if he made it all the way. We hope so, but, regardless, we’re sure he stepped off the trail a different kid than the one who stepped on it. If our young rascal had been a company, I would have bought stock in him on that very day.

Unfortunately, far too few kids get the experience of long distance hiking. While planning an assault on the PCT—and getting the time off to do it—is practically impossible for most people, I can think of no better alternative than the John Muir Trial.

At a little more than 200 miles it is just about the perfect distance: long enough to seem impossible for young hikers, and short enough to be doable. The weather is usually benign in July, August and September.

The fauna is as benign as the weather. There are mountain lions, but there are no recorded mountain lion attacks against people on the trail, and the bears are more interested in your trial mix than you. A grizzly bear hasn’t roamed the Sierra Nevada for nearly one hundred years. If you are foolish enough to hike early in the season the mosquitoes may exsanguinate you, but even that is avoidable with a little repellent.

There are few, if any, navigational challenges, and the trail is generally uncrowded—without being totally deserted. In short, you are unlikely to get yourself in trouble, and if you do, someone will probably come along to help out.

Introducing young people to the wilderness is hardly a new idea. A fellow by the name of John Muir may have put it best:

Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life.

Consider giving this gift to your son, daughter, grandson or granddaughter.

Good hiking, Ray

Filed under: Blog and Tagged: John Muir Trail, kids, people, psychology, spouses

John Muir Trail: Hiking the Trail with Your Spouse

Published by Ray Rippel on March 30, 2012 10 Permalink

My wife, Kathleen, did not join me on my thru-hike, but we have hiked together often, including a seventy-mile stretch of the John Muir Trail. We both look back at the experience with very fond memories.

Unfortunately, not all hikes-for-couples work out so well. Three rules made the difference for us:

The most important was: no complaining! Morale on the trail is a fragile thing; we didn’t want discomfort on the hike to wield power over our experience. Either of us could point out that we were cold (and needed a layer), or had a headache (and needed a pill), or were dragging a bit (and needed a break). Commenting on a problem with the intent of finding a solution was fine. Just no griping.
The second rule was: the slower person leads. In our case that happened to be Kathleen, and she led every step of the way. Our goal was to hike together, and by putting her in front, with an agreement that she could walk at any speed she wanted, we accomplished just that. One afternoon we met an older gentleman that was hiking the trail with his son—except that he wasn’t. His son had sped ahead to, well, we weren’t quite sure where, since we hadn’t seen him. (They were hiking northbound; we were going south.) Apparently, the son had decided to take a side trip and dad was on his own. Perhaps the son was having fun, but the dad sure wasn’t.
Last, both of us got to do what we wanted. Frequently, I would want to stop to take a picture (which often entails much more than, pause, click). Either one of us could call for a break. When we got to camp and had chores done, I liked to wander around, talk to other hikers, and explore. Kathleen preferred the commodious confines of the tent where she indulged in a bath (accomplished with the use of a couple of baby wipes). Even though we were together, we hiked our own hike!

A couple of last notes, particularly for male backpackers. Assuming you succeed in getting your other half out on the trail, do whatever you can to make her comfortable while she’s there. Do more than your share of chores, like setting up camp and cooking. Don’t be the guy who makes his wife do everything, and then can’t undertand why she doesn’t want to go backpacking again!

Last, if you’re trying to get your wife or girlfriend to try a long, multiday hike through the backcountry, be prepared to hear all kinds of objections revolving around the bugs, the dirt and sleeping on the hard ground. Chances are that none of these are the real problem.

Instead, order her a copy of this.

Good hiking, Ray

Filed under: Blog and Tagged: psychology, spouses