This summer, for our big family trip, we should have the opportunity to do all kinds of day hikes. We'll be traveling to Utah and maybe Wyoming. Our goals are probably too expansive and may have to be trimmed down. We've got too many places on our "want to see list" to do more than just breeze by unsatisfactorily. However, that's probably just going to have to remain the case. Nothing can be done about it.
Along with visiting some of the great outdoors sites in the area, we also have other things to do--such as visit Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake, and maybe BYU campus in Provo. My wife still has a living grandfather in the Provo area that we'll want to visit with, I imagine, if his health is up to it. But my wife and I have decided that even though this is a family trip, it's "mostly" up to me to see what I'd like to see. With the caveat that we're not in a position to do any backpacking, and if I overdo it, I'll hear lots of complaining the whole time.
However, I'm really spoiled for options, so deciding ultimately what's in and what's out will be difficult. We've talked about seeing some Yellowstone highlights (including the geyser fields and Old Faithful, as well as the Falls) and on our way towards Utah from there, we'll drive right by the Tetons. It'd be a shame not to stop and spend a day or two on day hikes. Inspiration Point is a probable pick, as is some of the popular Jenny Lake hikes. I have every intention of making the Tetons one of my very top priority visits for a major backpacking trip in the next 2-3 years, however, to hike the Teton Crest trail, so I don't have to feel bad about anything I miss on this particular trip. I wonder if taking the Cascade Canyon trail (since I'll probably go farther to come out Paintbrush canyon of the Crest trail rather than the early "bailout" on Cascade Canyon) is doable? Looks like it's fairly lengthy--maybe a good 5-6 miles, unless I take the (probably expensive) shuttle boat across Jenny Lake.
After this, we drive south to the Wasatch Mountains, which rise just to the east of the major urban areas of Utah. Here, while we'll spend several days doing things in town, I've got a few great hikes on my bucket list. I'd like to do the Mount Timpanogos summit, via Timpooneke Trail, but that's a really long day, and I suspect that my wife and at least one of my kids will be intimidated by some exposure to heights. Rather, I think a more manageable hike up to Timpanogos Cave National Monument is a better choice. Plus, it's kind of a classic. A few other Wasatch hikes tempt me, including Cecret Lake. There's also a Wasatch Crest trail that runs for a little under 12 miles (although it looks like its more frequented by mountain bikers than by hikers.) Too long as a round trip, but I wonder if the girls would drop me and the boys off, while they go wander around Salt Lake or something? Hmmm...
I'd love to head back to the High Uintas Wilderness. Last time I was there, the wilderness designation couldn't have been more than three or four years old for the area, and I remember loving the scenery and charm. However, that's really a backpacking destination. Rather, my last gasp of mountain ranges in Utah may come from doing the La Sal Loop Road when we head down to Moab.
Of course, if I'm going to be in Utah, focusing just on the mountains seems a bit foolish. After all, Utah is known for its red sandstone fantastic desert scenery as well. I'd like to go to Goblin Valley state park and hike the Wild Horse and Bell slot canyon loop with the family. They'd love the slot canyons. We're going to spend at least a full day, hopefully two at Arches National Park, and while I'm there, I'd love to go see the nearby Fisher Towers too.
Either on the way there or the way back, I'd love to stop and see a few things that are en route, or at least not far out of the way. Scott's Bluff, Devil's Tower and Mount Rushmore make this list. Frankly, though, one of these days I'd love to do a big Black Hills loop hike, but again; that's out of scope for this coming summer's trip.
I do admit to feeling a little bit intimidated by the sheer number of options, as well as by the fact that I have pent-up demand for hiking and want to both overdo it, and am having trouble prioritizing. But I think that I'll get it settled by Christmas Break, or thereabouts, and have a great time finally hiking some of the exact kinds of territory (and some of the specific places) that I want to see.
The image looks like an early August wildflower bloom on the Timpooke Trail. Mount Timpanogos looms in the distance, while the photographer is on the way to hit her peak.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Monday, August 12, 2013
Boots
I made a lengthy list of boots that I like, and have listed on my potential "to buy" list for my long-term hiking boots to replace the trail-runner type shoes that I wear day-to-day already today, and which I don't want to really hash to death in the wilderness. I also don't really want to hike in trail runners. Although I know that it's all the rage to hike in shoes these days, I actually prefer hiking boots that aren't "low tops"--in part because I still have a pack that, when loaded with food and water and everything else, is going to be 35-40 lbs. so the ankle support is meaningful to me still, in part because I like the look of leather hiking boots, and in part because I'm just a traditionalist, and leather, higher topped boots just feel right to me for hiking in the wilderness.
Eschewing some of the modern trends (including the aforementioned hiking "shoes" as opposed to boots) what I really like, quite honestly, are boots that resemble old-fashioned leather combat boots (except that I don't need them to be in black--I actually prefer brown leather, which is good, since it's much easier to find unless I stray out of outdoor boots entirely and have a look at duty boots, or tactical boots.)
This leads me, actually, into the world of hunting boots (as opposed to hiking boots) which are, of course, very similar to each other anyway. Hunting boots have a few other requirements that hiking boots do not--they are frequently engineered for much rougher conditions, since the assumption is that hunters will be bushwacking while hikers are assumed to be on trails. This is good, especially since some of my goals may be off-trail destinations, like Glissade Lake in the Beartooth Mountains, for instance. Hunting boots also have scent-control (sometimes) to avoid giving away your position to animals, a feature about which I couldn't care less. And because the hunting season and the hiking season are not the same, hunting boots are often insulated to keep your feet warm in weather much colder than I would ever be interested in hiking in myself. Not only does this extra warmth bode ill for my summer-time (or if not during the summer, than in warmer desert conditions) hiking, since it'll make my feet sweat, it also offers the double-whammy of making them noticeably heavier. The only good part about this is that with the assumption that you may be walking around in the snow, hunting boots are well-equipped to keep your feet dry.
Sadly, once you start winnowing out the insulated and/or extra heavy (over 4 lbs. a pair) hunting boots, you find that many times the all-leather and the insulated versions coincide. While I'm not entirely averse to having a mixed leather/nylon construction, I do prefer the all-leather kind. This is as much about personal preference (outdoor chic fashion, if you will) as anything else, but it also helps to reduce the number of boots that I'm considering, by changing the priority with which I view them.
In the first category, the under 3 lbs. a pair category, I have few that are all leather, except for Perfekt Light Hikers by Meindl/Cabela's (and they are barely under 3 lbs. at that.) The Quest 7" Hunting Boots win on price (at just about $100) and the Under Armour Speed Freak Hunting Boots win on weight (and just barely over 2 lbs. a pair--and also a good price) but I think the Perfekt Light Hikers are my favorite. I'll put up with .8 lbs more and $100 more to get them, but the reviews of their comfort and durability are tough to beat.
Although, frankly, if I'm wearing that much weight and spending that much money, I'm tempted to bump both up just a little bit incrementally and get boots that I like even more. In the next category, the 3-4 lbs. boots, I've got several options. Probably my favorites are the slightly taller 7" Perfekt Hikers (also by Meindl/Cabela's). They add about half a pound and twenty bucks, but again; if I'm going that way anyway, that's not a major change on either front. The Rimrock Hikers (from Cabela's) are just barely at 3 lbs, and have a nice rubber rand all the way around, to protect the leather, and the Asolo Fugitive GTX boots are highly reviewed and are also just over 3 lbs.--although I have to admit that I don't like the look of them nearly as much. The heavier, more mountaineering Asolo TPS 520s are nice, but really pricey, and for that kind of money (and weight) I'd rather go with the Meindl's. Not only are they extremely well-regarded, they actually cost about $40 less. And I like the look of them better too.
Among the heavy (4 lbs. and over) boots, most are eliminated from consideration because of their insulation (and weight) but one stands out to me still, the Outfitter Pro 9" uninsulated hunting boots (again, by Cabela's. I tend to like them better than REI or the other guys.) Great looking, as light as they get in this category, and extremely highly regarded as among the most rugged and durable and "go anywhere" boots on the planet, the only downside is, again the fact that they weigh 4.1 lbs. Then again, I'm not really one of those guys who thinks that an extra pound on my feet is going to kill me (yeah, yeah, I've seen all the biomechanical calculations that folks have done--I just disregard them as unimportant compared to my experience.) They're only half a pound heavier than the Perfekt Hikers, even with two more inches of height, and are $70 cheaper too!
Right now, there are also a few sale prices on some items. The Under Armour Speed Freak Hunting boots are the lightest on my list, at 2.1 lbs, and at the temporary sale price of about $130 (I round to the nearest five dollars, but don't include sales tax in these figures) they're nearly the cheapest. That makes them highly desireable, but again, probably only if you pick them up while on sale. Their normal price of $175 still makes them a contender, but not a front runner. Next up, and a bit weightier and more expensive both, I've got either the Perfekt Light Hikers, the Perfekt 7" Hikers or the Danner 8" Pronghorn uninsulated all-leathers. All three rank highly partly on the strength of their brands and reputation, but none of them are cheap--the Danner ones come in a little under $200, but only a little. And the reviews of the imported versions are not as good as the original Made in America copies (and not just for patriotic reasons; the quality control does not seem to be the same.) And the Outfitter Pro, on price and durability, have to be considered even though they're a bit heavier.
In reality, I'd love to pick up all of the boots on my list, including the insulated, heavier ones (the heaviest pair of which are 11" tall and nearly 5 lbs. a pair) but there's no way I'm spending $3,000 on boots, only a few of which I will actually consider taking on a "real" hiking trip.
And frankly, the thought that I even want that many pairs of boots makes me feel shockingly too similar to my wife anyway...
Eschewing some of the modern trends (including the aforementioned hiking "shoes" as opposed to boots) what I really like, quite honestly, are boots that resemble old-fashioned leather combat boots (except that I don't need them to be in black--I actually prefer brown leather, which is good, since it's much easier to find unless I stray out of outdoor boots entirely and have a look at duty boots, or tactical boots.)
This leads me, actually, into the world of hunting boots (as opposed to hiking boots) which are, of course, very similar to each other anyway. Hunting boots have a few other requirements that hiking boots do not--they are frequently engineered for much rougher conditions, since the assumption is that hunters will be bushwacking while hikers are assumed to be on trails. This is good, especially since some of my goals may be off-trail destinations, like Glissade Lake in the Beartooth Mountains, for instance. Hunting boots also have scent-control (sometimes) to avoid giving away your position to animals, a feature about which I couldn't care less. And because the hunting season and the hiking season are not the same, hunting boots are often insulated to keep your feet warm in weather much colder than I would ever be interested in hiking in myself. Not only does this extra warmth bode ill for my summer-time (or if not during the summer, than in warmer desert conditions) hiking, since it'll make my feet sweat, it also offers the double-whammy of making them noticeably heavier. The only good part about this is that with the assumption that you may be walking around in the snow, hunting boots are well-equipped to keep your feet dry.
Sadly, once you start winnowing out the insulated and/or extra heavy (over 4 lbs. a pair) hunting boots, you find that many times the all-leather and the insulated versions coincide. While I'm not entirely averse to having a mixed leather/nylon construction, I do prefer the all-leather kind. This is as much about personal preference (outdoor chic fashion, if you will) as anything else, but it also helps to reduce the number of boots that I'm considering, by changing the priority with which I view them.
In the first category, the under 3 lbs. a pair category, I have few that are all leather, except for Perfekt Light Hikers by Meindl/Cabela's (and they are barely under 3 lbs. at that.) The Quest 7" Hunting Boots win on price (at just about $100) and the Under Armour Speed Freak Hunting Boots win on weight (and just barely over 2 lbs. a pair--and also a good price) but I think the Perfekt Light Hikers are my favorite. I'll put up with .8 lbs more and $100 more to get them, but the reviews of their comfort and durability are tough to beat.
Although, frankly, if I'm wearing that much weight and spending that much money, I'm tempted to bump both up just a little bit incrementally and get boots that I like even more. In the next category, the 3-4 lbs. boots, I've got several options. Probably my favorites are the slightly taller 7" Perfekt Hikers (also by Meindl/Cabela's). They add about half a pound and twenty bucks, but again; if I'm going that way anyway, that's not a major change on either front. The Rimrock Hikers (from Cabela's) are just barely at 3 lbs, and have a nice rubber rand all the way around, to protect the leather, and the Asolo Fugitive GTX boots are highly reviewed and are also just over 3 lbs.--although I have to admit that I don't like the look of them nearly as much. The heavier, more mountaineering Asolo TPS 520s are nice, but really pricey, and for that kind of money (and weight) I'd rather go with the Meindl's. Not only are they extremely well-regarded, they actually cost about $40 less. And I like the look of them better too.
Among the heavy (4 lbs. and over) boots, most are eliminated from consideration because of their insulation (and weight) but one stands out to me still, the Outfitter Pro 9" uninsulated hunting boots (again, by Cabela's. I tend to like them better than REI or the other guys.) Great looking, as light as they get in this category, and extremely highly regarded as among the most rugged and durable and "go anywhere" boots on the planet, the only downside is, again the fact that they weigh 4.1 lbs. Then again, I'm not really one of those guys who thinks that an extra pound on my feet is going to kill me (yeah, yeah, I've seen all the biomechanical calculations that folks have done--I just disregard them as unimportant compared to my experience.) They're only half a pound heavier than the Perfekt Hikers, even with two more inches of height, and are $70 cheaper too!
Right now, there are also a few sale prices on some items. The Under Armour Speed Freak Hunting boots are the lightest on my list, at 2.1 lbs, and at the temporary sale price of about $130 (I round to the nearest five dollars, but don't include sales tax in these figures) they're nearly the cheapest. That makes them highly desireable, but again, probably only if you pick them up while on sale. Their normal price of $175 still makes them a contender, but not a front runner. Next up, and a bit weightier and more expensive both, I've got either the Perfekt Light Hikers, the Perfekt 7" Hikers or the Danner 8" Pronghorn uninsulated all-leathers. All three rank highly partly on the strength of their brands and reputation, but none of them are cheap--the Danner ones come in a little under $200, but only a little. And the reviews of the imported versions are not as good as the original Made in America copies (and not just for patriotic reasons; the quality control does not seem to be the same.) And the Outfitter Pro, on price and durability, have to be considered even though they're a bit heavier.
In reality, I'd love to pick up all of the boots on my list, including the insulated, heavier ones (the heaviest pair of which are 11" tall and nearly 5 lbs. a pair) but there's no way I'm spending $3,000 on boots, only a few of which I will actually consider taking on a "real" hiking trip.
And frankly, the thought that I even want that many pairs of boots makes me feel shockingly too similar to my wife anyway...
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Pants
For many, many years, I've been a fan of wearing a soft, well-worn pair of jeans as casual pants. I prefer carpenter style jeans, but that may also reflect a growing migration on my part towards cargo pants.
The big problem with jeans or canvas cargos (as most are) is that they're made of cotton. Cotton, as the saying goes, is DEATH! If you get wet in a pair of blue-jeans, you will DIE from hypothermia.
This is, of course, nonsense--or at least highly exaggerated. If you hike when the weather is cold or even cool, then it's nice to have quick-drying clothes. It's nice anyway. And a change of clothes is important. But I did plenty of mountain hikes in the summers (San Juans Chicago Basin, High Uintas, etc.) wearing mostly blue jeans and having cotton sweatshirts as my "warm clothes" backup. Many non-cotton alternatives are fairly reasonably priced--you can get a fleece jacket at a place like Old Navy or Kohls (or heck, even Target or something like that) for about the same price as a cotton sweatshirt. Merino wool hiking socks aren't terribly expensive--granted, I got mine on sale, but I got four pair of midweight merino wool hiking socks for about $10--$5 each for a set of two pair.
Now, a good pair of hiking pants on the other hand, seems to be a different kettle of fish altogether. Now, you can get a pair of nylon track pants (or workout pants, basically) at a place like Target or Old Navy for about $20--about the same as a pair of jeans or cotton sweatpants, roughly--but is that really what you want to hike in? If you trawl for deals and sales, you can probably get a pair of good, canvas cargo pants for $20-40 or so--but they're 100% cotton, so are they really any better than jeans? I've had a look at specifically designed hiking pants, and they tend to run more on the order of $50-100 and don't often go on sale. For that kind of money, you can probably be forgiven for questioning the recieved groupthink wisdom that cotton is the fabric that's lurking around the bend waiting to ambush you and kill you, but if you've ever had to walk very far in a wet pair of jeans, on the other hand, you can see why that might not be ideal.
The following pants are on my "short list" of desired hiking pants. Some of them are still mostly cotton, so many in the hiking community balk at them as bad news. But the alternative that they offer up are either too fragile, or too expensive. And frankly, even these include some pretty expensive options--the Rail Riders are $100! That's an awful lot for a pair of pants that are designed to be taken outside and beaten up (as far as I'm concerned, it's a lot for any kind of pants, but I'm a confirmed cheapskate anyway. I think any article of clothing that costs more than $50 better be something really special, or a suit. And I've only got one or two suits that fit me at a time because I hate wearing them anyway.)
1) These so-called Ultimate Outdoors Pants are mostly cotton. Does a 2% spandex component really allow them to dry better or faster? Doubtful. Cabela's themselves don't consider them a fast-drying pant. I like the look, and I like the price relative to the alternatives. And I prefer shopping at Cabelas to REI, because I guess at heart I'm more of a redneck than a hippy (even though my preferred outdoor activities are hiking and camping, not hunting and fishing.) I'm sure they're great as long as you don't get caught in the rain, or can put on some Frogg Toggs rainpants over top of this before they got soaked, at least. Heck, I'd wear these around town as a casual alternative to jeans in a heartbeat. But I don't know if they really provide what I need.
2) The outgoing model of Ultimate Outdoor Pants on the other hand, is 70/30 cotton/nylon. While that sounds like a better solution, is it really any different? Again, I don't know. Other than the change in fabric (and a switch from a snap to a button fly) the new and old versions of these pants are nearly identical both in style and in fabric composition.
3) REI, on the other hand, is a distributor for Kühl, and these Revolvr "jeans" are supposed to be quick-drying. As outdoor pants manufactured by a Seattle-based company, where it rains a lot, that claim should mean something. I like the look of them, but honestly, they're not much different than the Cabela's pants. Except that they cost more.
4) Rail Riders Weatherpants are extremely popular with the outdoor set, but are pricey. And I don't love the look of them, really. I'd rather have their Extreme Adventure Pants for looks, but they're the priciest of the models listed here.
Anybody (right, like anyone reads this blog...) have any favorites or comments? I admit to being a little baffled by the options. I'll most likely just end up picking up a couple pairs of the Cabelas and REI pants, because I can actually physically get them in person easily enough, being located fairly close to one of each of their stores (and because I like them) but I'm not convinced that they're really the "best" option for my hiking needs.
The big problem with jeans or canvas cargos (as most are) is that they're made of cotton. Cotton, as the saying goes, is DEATH! If you get wet in a pair of blue-jeans, you will DIE from hypothermia.
This is, of course, nonsense--or at least highly exaggerated. If you hike when the weather is cold or even cool, then it's nice to have quick-drying clothes. It's nice anyway. And a change of clothes is important. But I did plenty of mountain hikes in the summers (San Juans Chicago Basin, High Uintas, etc.) wearing mostly blue jeans and having cotton sweatshirts as my "warm clothes" backup. Many non-cotton alternatives are fairly reasonably priced--you can get a fleece jacket at a place like Old Navy or Kohls (or heck, even Target or something like that) for about the same price as a cotton sweatshirt. Merino wool hiking socks aren't terribly expensive--granted, I got mine on sale, but I got four pair of midweight merino wool hiking socks for about $10--$5 each for a set of two pair.
Now, a good pair of hiking pants on the other hand, seems to be a different kettle of fish altogether. Now, you can get a pair of nylon track pants (or workout pants, basically) at a place like Target or Old Navy for about $20--about the same as a pair of jeans or cotton sweatpants, roughly--but is that really what you want to hike in? If you trawl for deals and sales, you can probably get a pair of good, canvas cargo pants for $20-40 or so--but they're 100% cotton, so are they really any better than jeans? I've had a look at specifically designed hiking pants, and they tend to run more on the order of $50-100 and don't often go on sale. For that kind of money, you can probably be forgiven for questioning the recieved groupthink wisdom that cotton is the fabric that's lurking around the bend waiting to ambush you and kill you, but if you've ever had to walk very far in a wet pair of jeans, on the other hand, you can see why that might not be ideal.
The following pants are on my "short list" of desired hiking pants. Some of them are still mostly cotton, so many in the hiking community balk at them as bad news. But the alternative that they offer up are either too fragile, or too expensive. And frankly, even these include some pretty expensive options--the Rail Riders are $100! That's an awful lot for a pair of pants that are designed to be taken outside and beaten up (as far as I'm concerned, it's a lot for any kind of pants, but I'm a confirmed cheapskate anyway. I think any article of clothing that costs more than $50 better be something really special, or a suit. And I've only got one or two suits that fit me at a time because I hate wearing them anyway.)
1) These so-called Ultimate Outdoors Pants are mostly cotton. Does a 2% spandex component really allow them to dry better or faster? Doubtful. Cabela's themselves don't consider them a fast-drying pant. I like the look, and I like the price relative to the alternatives. And I prefer shopping at Cabelas to REI, because I guess at heart I'm more of a redneck than a hippy (even though my preferred outdoor activities are hiking and camping, not hunting and fishing.) I'm sure they're great as long as you don't get caught in the rain, or can put on some Frogg Toggs rainpants over top of this before they got soaked, at least. Heck, I'd wear these around town as a casual alternative to jeans in a heartbeat. But I don't know if they really provide what I need.
2) The outgoing model of Ultimate Outdoor Pants on the other hand, is 70/30 cotton/nylon. While that sounds like a better solution, is it really any different? Again, I don't know. Other than the change in fabric (and a switch from a snap to a button fly) the new and old versions of these pants are nearly identical both in style and in fabric composition.
3) REI, on the other hand, is a distributor for Kühl, and these Revolvr "jeans" are supposed to be quick-drying. As outdoor pants manufactured by a Seattle-based company, where it rains a lot, that claim should mean something. I like the look of them, but honestly, they're not much different than the Cabela's pants. Except that they cost more.
4) Rail Riders Weatherpants are extremely popular with the outdoor set, but are pricey. And I don't love the look of them, really. I'd rather have their Extreme Adventure Pants for looks, but they're the priciest of the models listed here.
Anybody (right, like anyone reads this blog...) have any favorites or comments? I admit to being a little baffled by the options. I'll most likely just end up picking up a couple pairs of the Cabelas and REI pants, because I can actually physically get them in person easily enough, being located fairly close to one of each of their stores (and because I like them) but I'm not convinced that they're really the "best" option for my hiking needs.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Guadalupe Mountains
In my recent trip to west Texas, we had extremely hot weather--daytime highs of over 110° F, so the hikes I would have liked to do at Palo Duro or Caprock Canyons were deemed out of the question. Wrong season.
We did however, get to go to Carlsbad Caverns. The "hikes"--if you want to call them that (and why not?) inside the caves themselves were easily doable, because the temperature is an even 54° F or so once you're well and inside the caves.
We took simply the self-guided hike through the so-called Natural Entrance, down a set of switchbacks into the caves. There's a good 45 minute or so walk to get to the elevators. My kids, at this point, were thinking that we were heading back up, but of course, we had just entered the cave; we still had the entire "Big Room" to explore.
The rangers told me that an entrance through the Natural Entrance followed by a walk around the Big Room trail is a little over three miles. The totality of the entrance is an often steep descent. We did not decide to hike back up the Natural Entrance (by that time, the caves would have been a little busier as well, and we'd have been going against the flow of traffic. Plus; a long hike uphill to see the exact same sights we'd just seen didn't really appeal to anyone with a handy elevator right there.)
When I came to Carsbad as a kid in the 80s, the self-guided tour was longer, and included walking through the Queen's Palace, the King's Chamber and the Papoose Room, but a ranger also told me that in 1993 they closed those to self-guided tours and made them ranger-guided tours only after some formations were damaged by either careless or malicious visitors. While I kinda missed it, I have to admit that the self-guided tour that we did do was long enough, and had so many speleothems to see, that I was starting to lose some of its excitement. The views were starting to become routine, if that can be imagined.
Then again, views of cave formations, cool as they are, are not really my first love. I can't look at flowstone draperies or bizarre stalagmite for hours like I can a dramatic mountain landscape. Plus, it's not like in the cave you can stop, set up a seat in a nice meadow and relax. So, after a few hours, we'd had enough anyway, even without the views of the ranger-guided chambers.
Actually, what I found more interesting was the terrain above which the caves rest, which is classic Chihuahuan desert mountain. The more dramatic mountain/desert scenery is actually in neighboring Guadalupe Mountains national park, which we could see from the parking area (we would have been able to see Guadalupe Peak and El Capitan quite well, except the air was very hazy from brushfires from 50-60 miles away--again, according to a ranger I asked about it.) Even with the haze, we could still see them, although I don't know how well my pictures of El Capitan between the heads of the kids turned out.
Again, with temps of over 110° F, we didn't really hike here, but I did take a scenic Jeep trail (in a minivan, no less, so I rode kinda slow.) The rangers told me that a fire about two or three years ago had cleared a great deal of the brush, so I saw a few blackened branches, and then a bunch of spiky grasses, yucca and cacti.
I'd love to come back with about two weeks in a November or perhaps February/early March time frame and really explore the trails of these two neighboring parks, which combined make up most of the terrain to be seen in the Guadalupe Mountains anyway. Even on the short scenic loop drive that we took, I saw two interesting trailheads, including one with the evocative name of Rattlesnake Canyon.
While I enjoyed the caves, I have to say that overall, I'm quite disappointed with the trip as an outdoors destination, which I had hoped for. The weather really didn't cooperate, and even I had to admit, perhaps reluctantly, but still, that hiking in the desert at well over 100° sounded miserable and would likely lead to dehydration related headaches and possibly heat exhaustion or even heat stroke. Even if I were in better shape than I am, I can't imagine that the Chihuahuan desert in the summer is ever a serious hiking destination.
A few other possibilities are looming. My sister and at least one of my brothers is making another trip to Big Bend in next few months and invited me to tag along. I might consider that. I was also kinda sorta invited by (the wife of) a friend of mine who's going to do the Sawtooth mountains of Idaho next summer. Also, next summer we have planned a big tour of some of the west, including parts of Utah--I'd probably get to do plenty of day-hiking in the Moab area, and summit Mount Timpanogos.
Still not quite the backpacking experience I'm really looking for, but with the entire family (plus the gear I have today) it's a nice start.
We did however, get to go to Carlsbad Caverns. The "hikes"--if you want to call them that (and why not?) inside the caves themselves were easily doable, because the temperature is an even 54° F or so once you're well and inside the caves.
We took simply the self-guided hike through the so-called Natural Entrance, down a set of switchbacks into the caves. There's a good 45 minute or so walk to get to the elevators. My kids, at this point, were thinking that we were heading back up, but of course, we had just entered the cave; we still had the entire "Big Room" to explore.
The rangers told me that an entrance through the Natural Entrance followed by a walk around the Big Room trail is a little over three miles. The totality of the entrance is an often steep descent. We did not decide to hike back up the Natural Entrance (by that time, the caves would have been a little busier as well, and we'd have been going against the flow of traffic. Plus; a long hike uphill to see the exact same sights we'd just seen didn't really appeal to anyone with a handy elevator right there.)
When I came to Carsbad as a kid in the 80s, the self-guided tour was longer, and included walking through the Queen's Palace, the King's Chamber and the Papoose Room, but a ranger also told me that in 1993 they closed those to self-guided tours and made them ranger-guided tours only after some formations were damaged by either careless or malicious visitors. While I kinda missed it, I have to admit that the self-guided tour that we did do was long enough, and had so many speleothems to see, that I was starting to lose some of its excitement. The views were starting to become routine, if that can be imagined.
Then again, views of cave formations, cool as they are, are not really my first love. I can't look at flowstone draperies or bizarre stalagmite for hours like I can a dramatic mountain landscape. Plus, it's not like in the cave you can stop, set up a seat in a nice meadow and relax. So, after a few hours, we'd had enough anyway, even without the views of the ranger-guided chambers.
Actually, what I found more interesting was the terrain above which the caves rest, which is classic Chihuahuan desert mountain. The more dramatic mountain/desert scenery is actually in neighboring Guadalupe Mountains national park, which we could see from the parking area (we would have been able to see Guadalupe Peak and El Capitan quite well, except the air was very hazy from brushfires from 50-60 miles away--again, according to a ranger I asked about it.) Even with the haze, we could still see them, although I don't know how well my pictures of El Capitan between the heads of the kids turned out.
Again, with temps of over 110° F, we didn't really hike here, but I did take a scenic Jeep trail (in a minivan, no less, so I rode kinda slow.) The rangers told me that a fire about two or three years ago had cleared a great deal of the brush, so I saw a few blackened branches, and then a bunch of spiky grasses, yucca and cacti.
I'd love to come back with about two weeks in a November or perhaps February/early March time frame and really explore the trails of these two neighboring parks, which combined make up most of the terrain to be seen in the Guadalupe Mountains anyway. Even on the short scenic loop drive that we took, I saw two interesting trailheads, including one with the evocative name of Rattlesnake Canyon.
While I enjoyed the caves, I have to say that overall, I'm quite disappointed with the trip as an outdoors destination, which I had hoped for. The weather really didn't cooperate, and even I had to admit, perhaps reluctantly, but still, that hiking in the desert at well over 100° sounded miserable and would likely lead to dehydration related headaches and possibly heat exhaustion or even heat stroke. Even if I were in better shape than I am, I can't imagine that the Chihuahuan desert in the summer is ever a serious hiking destination.
A few other possibilities are looming. My sister and at least one of my brothers is making another trip to Big Bend in next few months and invited me to tag along. I might consider that. I was also kinda sorta invited by (the wife of) a friend of mine who's going to do the Sawtooth mountains of Idaho next summer. Also, next summer we have planned a big tour of some of the west, including parts of Utah--I'd probably get to do plenty of day-hiking in the Moab area, and summit Mount Timpanogos.
Still not quite the backpacking experience I'm really looking for, but with the entire family (plus the gear I have today) it's a nice start.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Ultralight backpacking
I've been tinkering with an excel spreadsheet gear list for some time. One of the things that it does is calculate the cost of what I still need to buy and the estimated weight. In many cases, I'm using actual reported and published weights, but in other cases, I'm just doing a best s.w.a.g. that I can. In any case, I've been tinkering with the list a lot, mostly to reduce the number of items that I have to buy and substitute in items that I already own, as well as doing lots of research into alternatives to what I put down the first time, to save either money or weight or both.
There are a few reasons why I was reluctant to make some of these changes for some time, specifically on my existing tent and sleeping bags, which aren't necessarily backpack friendly or high quality. By this, what I mostly mean is that they weren't expensive--I actually find on further investigation that my tent is about as good a tent in terms of weight, at least, as I'm likely find anywhere. Most of the lightweight sleeping bag options are mummy bags, and frankly, I don't really like them much. So, I've gradually broken through a few of my preconcieved notions, which are all theoretical anyway. But the result is that as the cost to outfit myself has come down by about $1,000 from my first list, my gear weight has gone up a few pounds. And there's always the risk that I've been overly optimistic about the weight of some gear too, which means that I might be understating the weight of my chosen gear. I'll say that my total is probably give or take 5 lbs.--and almost certainly give rather than take, if it's going to swing from my estimate.
Definitions will vary from place to place on what lightweight means with regards to backpacking. Karen Berger's book on ultralight hiking considers anything over 25 pounds to be in "traditional" range. Wikipedia says anything over 30 lbs. (although light and ultralight is under 20--meaning that the entire 20-30 lbs. range is in a black hole or something.)
Without completely starting from scratch, spending a lot of money, and concentrating specifically on doing so, I can't seem to get my base back weight down below 25 lbs. Right now, my estimate for it is just over 25 lbs., actually--while my much more expensive "ultra" list is about 22 lbs.. Granted; I'm going with a fairly traditional internal frame pack, I decided not to replace my existing sleeping bags (which when we bought them, we had no concept of looking for lightweight options) and I'm unwilling to bail on the concept of a tradition (albeit small and fairly lightweight) tent. And that includes a bear cannister, which I won't always need to bring, depending on where I'm planning on hiking.
It doesn't seem to me to be worth it to do things like starting to cut off the handles of toothbrushes, drilling holes in my forks, or ordering expensive quilt and backpack kits that I have to make myself. It's clearly worth it to me to take on a few extra pounds of gear to avoid the hassle and expense. Despite the fact that my base pack weight seems kinda high, I look at my list and I don't think I'm willing to make much more in the way of sacrifices to it beyond what I've already got.
While ultralighters may balk, I estimate that my fully loaded, with food and water and everything, pack will weigh around 30-35 lbs; maybe nearer to 40 if I've been overly generous in my weight estimates for some gear. That's lighter than my pack weight as a teenager, and quite a bit lighter than anything my teenager compatriots carried, but it's obviously heavier than what someone like a Ray Jardine disciple would carry. Then again, my goal isn't to hike the PCT or the AT, my goal is to hike much shorter hikes where the longest I would do would be something like the JMT, or the Tahoe Rim Trail or the Wonderland Trail--and realistically most of my trips would be even shorter than that (the average of all my listed desired hikes, minus the JMT which is an outlier because it's more than twice as long as the next longest, is about 35 miles.) Other than spending big money to replace perfectly good stuff with other stuff that's a little bit lighter, or dramatically altering my strategy (i.e., going tentless or something) or getting rid of stuff, there's not much I can do to make the weight much better. And there's not much I can get rid of--I guess I could not bring extra clothes, and I could bring no-cook food and forego a camp stove, but even so I'm only saving a couple of pounds that way--and the sacrifice almost certainly isn't worth it.
Here's a picture of me, my daugher, and my folks at Glacier. This was just a short day hike off the Going to the Sun Road... which we couldn't complete because the highest portions of it were still snow-bound when we were there. Needless to say, we did this without gear...
There are a few reasons why I was reluctant to make some of these changes for some time, specifically on my existing tent and sleeping bags, which aren't necessarily backpack friendly or high quality. By this, what I mostly mean is that they weren't expensive--I actually find on further investigation that my tent is about as good a tent in terms of weight, at least, as I'm likely find anywhere. Most of the lightweight sleeping bag options are mummy bags, and frankly, I don't really like them much. So, I've gradually broken through a few of my preconcieved notions, which are all theoretical anyway. But the result is that as the cost to outfit myself has come down by about $1,000 from my first list, my gear weight has gone up a few pounds. And there's always the risk that I've been overly optimistic about the weight of some gear too, which means that I might be understating the weight of my chosen gear. I'll say that my total is probably give or take 5 lbs.--and almost certainly give rather than take, if it's going to swing from my estimate.
Definitions will vary from place to place on what lightweight means with regards to backpacking. Karen Berger's book on ultralight hiking considers anything over 25 pounds to be in "traditional" range. Wikipedia says anything over 30 lbs. (although light and ultralight is under 20--meaning that the entire 20-30 lbs. range is in a black hole or something.)
Without completely starting from scratch, spending a lot of money, and concentrating specifically on doing so, I can't seem to get my base back weight down below 25 lbs. Right now, my estimate for it is just over 25 lbs., actually--while my much more expensive "ultra" list is about 22 lbs.. Granted; I'm going with a fairly traditional internal frame pack, I decided not to replace my existing sleeping bags (which when we bought them, we had no concept of looking for lightweight options) and I'm unwilling to bail on the concept of a tradition (albeit small and fairly lightweight) tent. And that includes a bear cannister, which I won't always need to bring, depending on where I'm planning on hiking.
It doesn't seem to me to be worth it to do things like starting to cut off the handles of toothbrushes, drilling holes in my forks, or ordering expensive quilt and backpack kits that I have to make myself. It's clearly worth it to me to take on a few extra pounds of gear to avoid the hassle and expense. Despite the fact that my base pack weight seems kinda high, I look at my list and I don't think I'm willing to make much more in the way of sacrifices to it beyond what I've already got.
While ultralighters may balk, I estimate that my fully loaded, with food and water and everything, pack will weigh around 30-35 lbs; maybe nearer to 40 if I've been overly generous in my weight estimates for some gear. That's lighter than my pack weight as a teenager, and quite a bit lighter than anything my teenager compatriots carried, but it's obviously heavier than what someone like a Ray Jardine disciple would carry. Then again, my goal isn't to hike the PCT or the AT, my goal is to hike much shorter hikes where the longest I would do would be something like the JMT, or the Tahoe Rim Trail or the Wonderland Trail--and realistically most of my trips would be even shorter than that (the average of all my listed desired hikes, minus the JMT which is an outlier because it's more than twice as long as the next longest, is about 35 miles.) Other than spending big money to replace perfectly good stuff with other stuff that's a little bit lighter, or dramatically altering my strategy (i.e., going tentless or something) or getting rid of stuff, there's not much I can do to make the weight much better. And there's not much I can get rid of--I guess I could not bring extra clothes, and I could bring no-cook food and forego a camp stove, but even so I'm only saving a couple of pounds that way--and the sacrifice almost certainly isn't worth it.
Here's a picture of me, my daugher, and my folks at Glacier. This was just a short day hike off the Going to the Sun Road... which we couldn't complete because the highest portions of it were still snow-bound when we were there. Needless to say, we did this without gear...
Friday, June 7, 2013
Quick Summary: Big Bend National Park
Lacking longer backpacking trips to report on, I'm going to talk a bit about the other type of hiking I really enjoy--shorter day hikes. These are nice because the whole family can come along and get a taste of the outdoors without the big commitment of a lot of gear and nights spent on the trail. Although I've greatly enjoyed several backpacking trips in the past, and hope to enjoy many more in the (relatively) near future, I clearly am much more likely to do day hikes than backpacking trips, and day hikes will outnumber backpacking trips by a large margin.
This "quick summary" format is not a true trip report type post (such as done on gjhikes, for instance) but rather a sampling of what various locations offer in terms of day hiking opportunities.
About five years ago, I went with my folks and my oldest son (who was only 12 at the time) to Big Bend National Park, and we did a number of day hikes. Big Bend is smack dab in the heart of the Chihuahuan desert, which offers significant differences in character, flora and fauna from other southwestern deserts in the US such as the Mojave, the Sonoran, the Colorado plateau, etc. But the desert isn't the only thing that the vast expanse of Big Bend offers--in fact, there are basically three environments that are on offer. The Chisos Mountains are a "sky island" type of area. Because of their relative elevation, the climate and character of the Chisos Mountains differs substantially from that of the desert. The third environment is the Rio Grande itself.
Big Bend is an extremely large park, one of the largest in the lower 48, and is in fact larger than the entire state of Rhode Island (which, granted, is the smallest state. But that's still pretty cool.) However, compared to many other parks, it's extremely remote, and gets relatively little visitation. Big Bend is, in fact, a great place to escape and enjoy a fair bit of solitude. Even if, like me, you go and stay in the Chisos Mountain resort hotel, eat breakfast and dinner every day at the resort restaurant, and only venture out during the day for relatively low key day hikes that are appropriate for (in my case) the relatively elderly and the relatively young. It does offer some long-distance backpacking potential, but the extreme aridity of much of the region can make that problematic, unless you're willing to cache water beforehand. Because of this, Big Bend may, in fact, be better for day hikers than for backpackers--although there are some really iconic backpacking routes in the park that sound really nice.
Another nice facet of visiting Big Bend is that the best season to do so is precisely when many other hiking locations in North America are unavailable due to inclement winter weather. I went in February and found the weather to be perfect--warm, but not too warm. You'll probably need, especially in the Chisos, a sweatshirt or something in the early morning or later evening, but during the day, long pants and a t-shirt are perfectly comfortable. By March, it's Spring Break in Texas, and college student outdoor enthusiasts flood the park--at least relatively speaking--it's still never really a heavily traveled park, even during peak season. During much of the summer, the weather is miserably hot. Anytime between October and maybe April is workable, though--and the "dead of winter" is probably the best time to come. Snow is very rare, even in the highest peaks of the Chisos (which aren't really that high--high point Emory Peak is still under 8,000 feet). The average December/January high temp recorded at neighboring Lajitas is around 70 (low is 35) and in February it's still only mid 70s and mid 40s respectively. By May, your average daily high is nearly 100, and it stays there (or above) mostly through September. I consider the park season to reasonably be October through April, with preference for November until Spring Break--during which I want to avoid all of the college kids, and after which, it's likely to be too hot to be fun to visit.
If you've only got a couple of days or so, you probably want a quick sampling of what the park offers--I've given my favorite of each type of hike available. Although I haven't hiked every trail, these four short day hikes--none of which really takes more than half a day, including driving from the Lodge to the trailhead and back, were among my favorite.
Desert Hike: Grapevine Hills Trail. Following a pretty rough dirt road (although not 4x4 required--we were perfectly fine in our rented Ford Escape) from the Chisos Mountains Basin junction after coming out of the mountains, you reach the trailhead. It heads mostly north-northwest and according to the map, the last little section of it is called out as "primitive" and requires a HCV. I think this is slightly over-stating it, but be cautious. We hiked the trail on a sunny mid-morning during the week and saw, I think, maybe two or three other people on the trail in total--one as a small group coming out of the hike as we entered, and one coming into the area as we left. All in all, there is a sense of solitude and vastness, especially near the end of the hike when you're high enough on a ridge to see across the desert floor for miles. But this is all par for the course in Big Bend--you'll never feel crowded, and may in fact feel, frequently, like you're the only person around for miles on end.
The trail goes through the Grapevine Hills, which is the eroded and scrambled remains of ancient volcanic activity, and follows the course of a wash through a valley surrounded by crumpled and tumbled brownish red rock walls, which appear to be made of heaped boulders. The trail is easy to follow, and if you occasionally get it mixed up with the bed of the wash, it doesn't really matter since they both go the same direction.
The trail itself is an out and back--a little over a mile one way, and is flat for the majority of the hike. The valley is a closed in box canyon of sorts, though, so as you reach the end, you have to climb to the ridge of the cliffs, where you'll see an interesting structure where big fallen boulders have conspired to leave us an arch. From this high point, you can look back across the valley, with its long, rugged arms stretched out on either side of you. You can also walk through the arch--it's got about six feet of clearance, and see the other side, where the ridge slopes back down to the desert floor. From here, you have a commanding view of miles of desert, broken up by several hill and ridge structures similar to the Grapevine Hills through which you've just hiked.
The trail is reasonably well maintained and marked with cairns--although, like I said, if you lose it, that's hardly a major problem. I'm quite sure I accidentally got diverted into the wash bed repeatedly, since the trail crosses the dry stream bed repeatedly. There is no water or any facilities of any kind other than a sign at the trailhead, so bring your Camelbak or other water bottle. When I went in February it was a little cool at around 8:30 or 9 AM or so when we were in the shadow of the valley walls, but a little later when the sun got higher, it was extremely pleasant. It's a simple out-and-back; there's no loop, you just hike to the endpoint, look around, and turn around and come back. Although there is a few hundred feet of climbing near the end, it's not very long, nor very steep--maybe a Class 2 here and there at worst. Its not much worse than climbing a few flights of stairs. The ease, the solitude and the very scenic views all through this hike make it one of the gems of the desert hikes offerings, and a great example of what the desert hikes at Big Bend can offer.
Mountain Hike: The Window Trail. The South Rim trail is iconic, but fairly difficult and quite long--almost better suited for a shorter backpacking trip rather than an arduous day hike. Climbing Emory Peak is also both long and strenuous. The Lost Mine Trail (which I haven't done yet... sadly) sounds like a nice one that's comparable in distance, difficulty and scenic quality to the Window Trail. With a trailhead right at the Lodge parking lot, chances are you can wake up, eat breakfast, fill up your water bottle or Camelbak, and just start walking before the sun has completely risen over the walls of the mountains around you, especially in the winter when sunrise comes late. For almost three miles, you'll head downhill from the Lodge down the valley floor to the east end of the basin. At first, the mountain walls are fairly distant, but as you get further along, they close in, until you're almost in slot canyon conditions at the end of the hike. You'll also go through a relatively well watered creek-bed, and may in fact cross over running water and see some aquatic wildlife (we saw a frog near the end of the hike.) You may see other wildlife as well--we saw both several whitetailed dear and quite a few javelinas, but black bear and cougar are not unknown in the area, and bird life is abundant. Again; the hike offered a fair bit of solitude, but near the end, we bunched up with another group or two of day hikers.
The entire hike is quite nice, although you're going further downhill into the bottom of the basin rather than uphill to the peaks. Once you reach the end of the hike, the canyon walls have grown all around you, and through a narrow slot, the creek pours off the edge of the Chisos Mountains down into the desert below, and you get a spectacular view of the desert floor thousands of feet below you spread out in the mid-morning sunlight. Be careful about going too close to the edge though--needless to say there's no railing, and the slickrock is often wet.
After this spectacular hike down, don't forget that you need to hike back, and this time it's all uphill (although it's only really steep in a few places--but it's like climbing quite a few flights of stairs all at once when it really gets going.) Although it's relatively cool, it's very, very dry untill you get very near the end. Bring plenty of water. My 2-liter Camelbak would have been perfect if I'd had it five years ago when I was last here. My one 16-oz. water bottle that I did bring was not.
River Hikes: Santa Elena Canyon trail. The river environment is the last major environment in Big Bend, and it's worth checking out. From the Chisos Basin Lodge, take the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive towards the canyon. On the way, take a few moments to stop at the Tuff Canyon and at least look at the overlook. If you're feeling a little bit more adventurous, walk down into the canyon. The NPS considers this one of the desert hikes, but honestly, it's too short to seem more like just exploring the area you're already in to me. The Tuff Canyon is a nice, shady area--it's not super spectacular as far as canyons go, but still interesting. If you really want to get crazy, you can also stop at the Mule Ears peak viewing area prior to that, and hike to Mule Ears Spring, for another desert hike with some neat scenery. From the Tuff Canyon view area, you can also see Cerro Castellan, a beautiful and iconic solitary mountain.
The Santa Elena Canyon trail is close to an overstatement as well. It's a very short hike; under two miles round trip. From the parking area/trailhead, you cross a broad, sandy river bank several hundred yards across (unless the river level is a lot higher than when we were there) and then enter the narrow, high-walled canyon itself. Across the river on the Mexican side (which you could easily hit with a thrown rock if you were so inclined) the rock walls rise straight out of the river, but on the American side, there's a sandy riverbank with foliage. Because of the steepness of the walls, the entire canyon is usually fairly shady, making for a nice cool environment to explore and scramble around in. You can't actually go very far before you run out of trail and bank and have to turn around. It's a nice environment, though and worth seeing. I also like this particular trail, because on the way to the trailhead, you have the opportunity to see several other fabulous points of interest in the park, making it a busy and productive part day. The Boquillas Canyon Trail on the other side of the park, is very similar in all respects, except there's not as many easy lookouts and sights on the way. However, if you want to be a little bit more adventurous, load up on water bottles in your car, and spend a day doing the Marufo Vega Loop trail, including a backcountry camping night. This trail is not well maintained, and use of a high quality topo to avoid getting lost is essential. But, if that doesn't intimidate you, that could be a fun prelude to doing the Boquillas canyon hike, which is just a little down the road from the Loop trailhead. Because this is only a day (and possibly night or two, depending on how fast you want to hoof it) in the backcountry, water isn't as much a concern, assuming you have a stash in your car when you're done walking.
Nearby point of interest: If you leave the park on the east side (and pick up some barbecue or Mexican food in Lajitas) you can take Farm Road 170 towards Presidio. This is a fantastically scenic drive through Big Bend Ranch State park, which is also quite large (although not even half the size as the national park.) Although the Ranch lacks the geological spectacle of the Chisos, El Solitario, the geographic feature that most defines it, is also pretty nifty, and it is a great example of more of the rugged desert scenery that makes the national park so appealing.
I didn't really explore it much, although we stopped frequently on the drive for scenic lookouts and photo ops, but one hike in particular is a must-see. Completely on a whim, we came across Closed Canyon right off the road, and stopped and explored it. It's about a mile and a half hike (round trip) into a slot canyon, and it was possibly my favorite hike of the entire trip, in spite of the fact that it was outside of the park, and we only did it on a whim. Although in theory, the canyon pierces the entire mesa and reaches the Rio, unless you come equipped with rock climbing gear, you can't actually make the entire trip. We got stopped by some really gnarly tinajas--pools of old standing water.
In general, I think of southern Utah as the capital of slot canyons, but this is a pretty nice one, and feels a bit different from Utah's red sandstone, since it's grayish brown igneous rock.
Like in the national park, we saw a few people, but not many, and felt like we were often on our own for much of this hike. Really, except around the Chisos lodge area, and in the Santa Elena canyon, I never once felt like there was much in the way of human activity anywhere in this entire region.
As always with slot canyon exploration, keep a wary eye on the weather. There's no escape route if a flash flood decides to race through the canyon.
This "quick summary" format is not a true trip report type post (such as done on gjhikes, for instance) but rather a sampling of what various locations offer in terms of day hiking opportunities.
About five years ago, I went with my folks and my oldest son (who was only 12 at the time) to Big Bend National Park, and we did a number of day hikes. Big Bend is smack dab in the heart of the Chihuahuan desert, which offers significant differences in character, flora and fauna from other southwestern deserts in the US such as the Mojave, the Sonoran, the Colorado plateau, etc. But the desert isn't the only thing that the vast expanse of Big Bend offers--in fact, there are basically three environments that are on offer. The Chisos Mountains are a "sky island" type of area. Because of their relative elevation, the climate and character of the Chisos Mountains differs substantially from that of the desert. The third environment is the Rio Grande itself.
Big Bend is an extremely large park, one of the largest in the lower 48, and is in fact larger than the entire state of Rhode Island (which, granted, is the smallest state. But that's still pretty cool.) However, compared to many other parks, it's extremely remote, and gets relatively little visitation. Big Bend is, in fact, a great place to escape and enjoy a fair bit of solitude. Even if, like me, you go and stay in the Chisos Mountain resort hotel, eat breakfast and dinner every day at the resort restaurant, and only venture out during the day for relatively low key day hikes that are appropriate for (in my case) the relatively elderly and the relatively young. It does offer some long-distance backpacking potential, but the extreme aridity of much of the region can make that problematic, unless you're willing to cache water beforehand. Because of this, Big Bend may, in fact, be better for day hikers than for backpackers--although there are some really iconic backpacking routes in the park that sound really nice.
Another nice facet of visiting Big Bend is that the best season to do so is precisely when many other hiking locations in North America are unavailable due to inclement winter weather. I went in February and found the weather to be perfect--warm, but not too warm. You'll probably need, especially in the Chisos, a sweatshirt or something in the early morning or later evening, but during the day, long pants and a t-shirt are perfectly comfortable. By March, it's Spring Break in Texas, and college student outdoor enthusiasts flood the park--at least relatively speaking--it's still never really a heavily traveled park, even during peak season. During much of the summer, the weather is miserably hot. Anytime between October and maybe April is workable, though--and the "dead of winter" is probably the best time to come. Snow is very rare, even in the highest peaks of the Chisos (which aren't really that high--high point Emory Peak is still under 8,000 feet). The average December/January high temp recorded at neighboring Lajitas is around 70 (low is 35) and in February it's still only mid 70s and mid 40s respectively. By May, your average daily high is nearly 100, and it stays there (or above) mostly through September. I consider the park season to reasonably be October through April, with preference for November until Spring Break--during which I want to avoid all of the college kids, and after which, it's likely to be too hot to be fun to visit.
If you've only got a couple of days or so, you probably want a quick sampling of what the park offers--I've given my favorite of each type of hike available. Although I haven't hiked every trail, these four short day hikes--none of which really takes more than half a day, including driving from the Lodge to the trailhead and back, were among my favorite.
Desert Hike: Grapevine Hills Trail. Following a pretty rough dirt road (although not 4x4 required--we were perfectly fine in our rented Ford Escape) from the Chisos Mountains Basin junction after coming out of the mountains, you reach the trailhead. It heads mostly north-northwest and according to the map, the last little section of it is called out as "primitive" and requires a HCV. I think this is slightly over-stating it, but be cautious. We hiked the trail on a sunny mid-morning during the week and saw, I think, maybe two or three other people on the trail in total--one as a small group coming out of the hike as we entered, and one coming into the area as we left. All in all, there is a sense of solitude and vastness, especially near the end of the hike when you're high enough on a ridge to see across the desert floor for miles. But this is all par for the course in Big Bend--you'll never feel crowded, and may in fact feel, frequently, like you're the only person around for miles on end.
The trail goes through the Grapevine Hills, which is the eroded and scrambled remains of ancient volcanic activity, and follows the course of a wash through a valley surrounded by crumpled and tumbled brownish red rock walls, which appear to be made of heaped boulders. The trail is easy to follow, and if you occasionally get it mixed up with the bed of the wash, it doesn't really matter since they both go the same direction.
The trail itself is an out and back--a little over a mile one way, and is flat for the majority of the hike. The valley is a closed in box canyon of sorts, though, so as you reach the end, you have to climb to the ridge of the cliffs, where you'll see an interesting structure where big fallen boulders have conspired to leave us an arch. From this high point, you can look back across the valley, with its long, rugged arms stretched out on either side of you. You can also walk through the arch--it's got about six feet of clearance, and see the other side, where the ridge slopes back down to the desert floor. From here, you have a commanding view of miles of desert, broken up by several hill and ridge structures similar to the Grapevine Hills through which you've just hiked.
The trail is reasonably well maintained and marked with cairns--although, like I said, if you lose it, that's hardly a major problem. I'm quite sure I accidentally got diverted into the wash bed repeatedly, since the trail crosses the dry stream bed repeatedly. There is no water or any facilities of any kind other than a sign at the trailhead, so bring your Camelbak or other water bottle. When I went in February it was a little cool at around 8:30 or 9 AM or so when we were in the shadow of the valley walls, but a little later when the sun got higher, it was extremely pleasant. It's a simple out-and-back; there's no loop, you just hike to the endpoint, look around, and turn around and come back. Although there is a few hundred feet of climbing near the end, it's not very long, nor very steep--maybe a Class 2 here and there at worst. Its not much worse than climbing a few flights of stairs. The ease, the solitude and the very scenic views all through this hike make it one of the gems of the desert hikes offerings, and a great example of what the desert hikes at Big Bend can offer.
Mountain Hike: The Window Trail. The South Rim trail is iconic, but fairly difficult and quite long--almost better suited for a shorter backpacking trip rather than an arduous day hike. Climbing Emory Peak is also both long and strenuous. The Lost Mine Trail (which I haven't done yet... sadly) sounds like a nice one that's comparable in distance, difficulty and scenic quality to the Window Trail. With a trailhead right at the Lodge parking lot, chances are you can wake up, eat breakfast, fill up your water bottle or Camelbak, and just start walking before the sun has completely risen over the walls of the mountains around you, especially in the winter when sunrise comes late. For almost three miles, you'll head downhill from the Lodge down the valley floor to the east end of the basin. At first, the mountain walls are fairly distant, but as you get further along, they close in, until you're almost in slot canyon conditions at the end of the hike. You'll also go through a relatively well watered creek-bed, and may in fact cross over running water and see some aquatic wildlife (we saw a frog near the end of the hike.) You may see other wildlife as well--we saw both several whitetailed dear and quite a few javelinas, but black bear and cougar are not unknown in the area, and bird life is abundant. Again; the hike offered a fair bit of solitude, but near the end, we bunched up with another group or two of day hikers.
The entire hike is quite nice, although you're going further downhill into the bottom of the basin rather than uphill to the peaks. Once you reach the end of the hike, the canyon walls have grown all around you, and through a narrow slot, the creek pours off the edge of the Chisos Mountains down into the desert below, and you get a spectacular view of the desert floor thousands of feet below you spread out in the mid-morning sunlight. Be careful about going too close to the edge though--needless to say there's no railing, and the slickrock is often wet.
After this spectacular hike down, don't forget that you need to hike back, and this time it's all uphill (although it's only really steep in a few places--but it's like climbing quite a few flights of stairs all at once when it really gets going.) Although it's relatively cool, it's very, very dry untill you get very near the end. Bring plenty of water. My 2-liter Camelbak would have been perfect if I'd had it five years ago when I was last here. My one 16-oz. water bottle that I did bring was not.
River Hikes: Santa Elena Canyon trail. The river environment is the last major environment in Big Bend, and it's worth checking out. From the Chisos Basin Lodge, take the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive towards the canyon. On the way, take a few moments to stop at the Tuff Canyon and at least look at the overlook. If you're feeling a little bit more adventurous, walk down into the canyon. The NPS considers this one of the desert hikes, but honestly, it's too short to seem more like just exploring the area you're already in to me. The Tuff Canyon is a nice, shady area--it's not super spectacular as far as canyons go, but still interesting. If you really want to get crazy, you can also stop at the Mule Ears peak viewing area prior to that, and hike to Mule Ears Spring, for another desert hike with some neat scenery. From the Tuff Canyon view area, you can also see Cerro Castellan, a beautiful and iconic solitary mountain.
The Santa Elena Canyon trail is close to an overstatement as well. It's a very short hike; under two miles round trip. From the parking area/trailhead, you cross a broad, sandy river bank several hundred yards across (unless the river level is a lot higher than when we were there) and then enter the narrow, high-walled canyon itself. Across the river on the Mexican side (which you could easily hit with a thrown rock if you were so inclined) the rock walls rise straight out of the river, but on the American side, there's a sandy riverbank with foliage. Because of the steepness of the walls, the entire canyon is usually fairly shady, making for a nice cool environment to explore and scramble around in. You can't actually go very far before you run out of trail and bank and have to turn around. It's a nice environment, though and worth seeing. I also like this particular trail, because on the way to the trailhead, you have the opportunity to see several other fabulous points of interest in the park, making it a busy and productive part day. The Boquillas Canyon Trail on the other side of the park, is very similar in all respects, except there's not as many easy lookouts and sights on the way. However, if you want to be a little bit more adventurous, load up on water bottles in your car, and spend a day doing the Marufo Vega Loop trail, including a backcountry camping night. This trail is not well maintained, and use of a high quality topo to avoid getting lost is essential. But, if that doesn't intimidate you, that could be a fun prelude to doing the Boquillas canyon hike, which is just a little down the road from the Loop trailhead. Because this is only a day (and possibly night or two, depending on how fast you want to hoof it) in the backcountry, water isn't as much a concern, assuming you have a stash in your car when you're done walking.
Nearby point of interest: If you leave the park on the east side (and pick up some barbecue or Mexican food in Lajitas) you can take Farm Road 170 towards Presidio. This is a fantastically scenic drive through Big Bend Ranch State park, which is also quite large (although not even half the size as the national park.) Although the Ranch lacks the geological spectacle of the Chisos, El Solitario, the geographic feature that most defines it, is also pretty nifty, and it is a great example of more of the rugged desert scenery that makes the national park so appealing.
I didn't really explore it much, although we stopped frequently on the drive for scenic lookouts and photo ops, but one hike in particular is a must-see. Completely on a whim, we came across Closed Canyon right off the road, and stopped and explored it. It's about a mile and a half hike (round trip) into a slot canyon, and it was possibly my favorite hike of the entire trip, in spite of the fact that it was outside of the park, and we only did it on a whim. Although in theory, the canyon pierces the entire mesa and reaches the Rio, unless you come equipped with rock climbing gear, you can't actually make the entire trip. We got stopped by some really gnarly tinajas--pools of old standing water.
In general, I think of southern Utah as the capital of slot canyons, but this is a pretty nice one, and feels a bit different from Utah's red sandstone, since it's grayish brown igneous rock.
Like in the national park, we saw a few people, but not many, and felt like we were often on our own for much of this hike. Really, except around the Chisos lodge area, and in the Santa Elena canyon, I never once felt like there was much in the way of human activity anywhere in this entire region.
As always with slot canyon exploration, keep a wary eye on the weather. There's no escape route if a flash flood decides to race through the canyon.
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A white-tailed deer we saw in the Chisos Basin near the trailhead. |
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Near the end of the Window Hike in the Chisos Basin. |
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My son and my dad at the top of the Balanced Rock hike in the Grapevine Hills. |
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Closed Canyon, a slot canyon in nearby Big Bend Ranch State Park. |
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
New banner
Quick new banner image, using one of my own images (albeit not one that's high quality. I should take the time to look up the original image instead of the smaller facebook version.)
The location is near the summit of the Balanced Rock hike in the Grapevine Hills section of Big Bend National Park.
The location is near the summit of the Balanced Rock hike in the Grapevine Hills section of Big Bend National Park.
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