The Great Adventure

Tuesday morning and I was awoken at 6 am by Christine's cry of "we have overslept". I was to learn in the coming days that every trekking group has its early bird and Christine was ours.

Tea is the fuel

Despite having lived in the US for over 30 years she has not lost the habits of the English amongst which was the ability to consume vast quantities of tea. Every day started and finished with a large billy can of tea. 

Christine was a trekker of some distinction having been up Kilimanjaro and trekked extensively in Nepal as well as Scotland and nearer home in the US. Whilst I was aware that she was no spring chicken I was amazed to learn that she was 63 as, for someone of this age, her physical stamina was truly amazing. She has a longstanding love of the outdoors and nature and walks/camps most weekends. 

I guiltily and hastily emerged from my tent into a veritable black cloud of mosquitoes who refused to be discouraged by an unhealthy dose of DEET and had me for breakfast before I have even started mine. Dave had obviously seen this all before and was showing a decided reluctance to leave the sanctuary of his tent.

Whilst the sky was encouragingly blue the sun had yet to penetrate the deep valley sides so there was still an early morning chill in the air. It was not as cold as I had imagined it might be, but still sensible to start the day with trousers and fleece (which also provided some protection from the loitering mosquitoes).

Hanging the foodHaving retrieved the food from the tree where it had been hung overnight - a sensible precaution to discourage overnight visitation from bears, breakfast comprised a cup of coffee and some form of ready cereal - typically an oats type mix to which hot water, boiled on the stove, was added. Again it sounds like nothing but as I was to learn over the coming days one's obsession with food increases the more limited the choice.

Breakfast over it was time to break camp and move on. As I became more proficient and methodical in my packing we speeded up but in the early days it took roughly 2 hours from waking to actually commencing walking. Even so, having arisen at 6am we were typically "on the road" by 8am.

Walking the trails in the American National Parks is a completely different experience to that in the UK. The paths are clearly defined and signposted and whilst a map is informative it is not the absolutely essential necessity (along with compass) as in the UK. We spent very little time off route searching for the correct trail.

Trail signage

Crossing South Badger Creek we immediately started up hill climbing onto Dry Ridge Mountain (not much water here) in the direction of Green Lake. The climb was unrelenting and as the sun's rays sought us out, warming out backs,  the temperature even at this early hour became uncomfortably warm.

Water is or more accurately sources of water as the sustainer of life, along with food, whilst out in the back country is a key concern. In packing for the trip I had cautiously ensured that I had sufficient capacity to carry 4 litres of water, not really expecting to utilise such an amount. However my caution was fully justified as I found that at these altitudes I was constantly thirsty and on some days was consuming up to a gallon of water. Even overnight it was common to consume a litre of water.

By 10 am we had climbed out of Badgers Creek and were rewarded with our first view of the day looking out on to the plains of Idaho.

The distant plains of IdahoThe picture is deceptive - the plains in the distance are at an altitude of approximately 5,000ft and the picture has been taken at  9,000 ft.

I was increasingly aware that the altitude was affecting me. The unrelenting climb, even at a slow pace, was leaving me slightly out of breath and light headed. I found my trekking poles invaluable and relied on them for both stability and assisting my legs on their upward path. By the time we stopped for a mid morning break I had more than acclimatisation to worry about.  

A serious problem

Whilst admiring the view I noticed that the sole bonding on my left Zamberlan boot was starting to come away from the upper. With the possible exception of the airline losing my backpack I could think of nothing more serious than a failure of my footwear.   

Dave's comment of "that's not good" I thought admirably restrained given the circumstances. Fortunately he (with typical foresight) just happened to have a supply of substantial tape which we used to bind the sole to the upper.

I was really frustrated at this stage as had I had the slightest inkling that my boots were suspect I would have replaced them instantly. Worst case scenario was that I would have to leave the trek and given the research and planning (as well as expense already committed) that was almost unthinkable. I was concerned but there was little to be done for the present but carry on and see how the situation developed.

By the time we stopped for an early lunch at noon I was feeling slightly nauseous and my appetite had all but disappeared. It may well have been that I was not looking forward to a lunch of flattened bread (a consequence of my woeful packing technique) along with cheese and salami, but it was more likely caused by my bodies reaction to the altitude, which I recognised as a mild symptom of altitude sickness. I really did not feel like lunch but I forced some down anyway.

Green Lake

Fortunately our campsite for the day was not far away and as we started a short descent down to Green Lake we met a group of American teenagers who were just setting off having spent 2 hours splashing in the lake. They were out for 18 days and I was suitably impressed as our 10 days trek seemed a long time to me.

We completed our descent to the lake  and I was much relieved to be able to discard my pack and pitch my tent. We were not yet above the tree line and care is needed to ensure that the location of the tent is not near any weak trees (referred to as "widow makers" for obvious reasons). There are constant reminders as fallen, splintered trees, sometimes blocking trails are a common sight.

As the afternoon passed blue sky gradually disappeared as the cloud cover increased. Dave with a practiced eye forecast that a thunderstorm was developing and aware that we were now at an altitude of 9,500 ft and particularly susceptible to the vagaries of the weather I revisited the guying of my tent, using handy rocks to supplement the pegs where appropriate.

Camp 2 - 9,500ft

By 4.30 I had developed a raging headache and having take a couple of aspirins I retired to my tent  to see if I could sleep it off. Dozing I became aware that the air temperature had dramatically reduced so climbed into my sleeping bag. A short time later the rain commenced and I had my first experience of a full blown thunderstorm at 9,500 ft with the thunder echoing around the peaks around me.

My head was so sore that I slept through the remainder of the storm and awoke approximately an hour later feeling slightly better and emerged to consume my tea of macaroni and cheese.

So passed another day, but this time I was aware that we were truly camped high on the hills in a relatively exposed position rather than nestled in the relative security of a valley canyon and I wondered what the night might bring.

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