--- Useful things ---

2016

An advantage of walking is that you only need what you can carry, or, put another way, you only carry what you can carry. My years as a backpacker comes in handy. It's surprising how much you learn when you have to worry about size and weight.

I find that I don't have to worry too much. In the first place, I'm at that age where I can wear just about anything I want without drawing attention ("When I'm old, I shall wear purple...."). My main consideration is that I'm in Colorado which is a meteorologist's nightmare. I walked to the shopping center (less than a mile) a couple of days ago. When I left, it was warm and fair. I was chased home by a thunderstorm. That night, some folks around here was coerced into wearing sleeves. From September to June, if I go on a long hike, I have to plan to remove layers as the day goes on, and I'm never sure if I will need to. Luckily, I get hot in the upper 50s when I'm active.

It's been below freezing here and I've always worn overalls and coveralls hiking. A flannel shirt, sweater, and leather coat is the most I've ever needed for warmth. You, of course, need to plan for your weather and your body heat.

I wear regular clothes and inexpensive shoes. Socks make a difference. Shelling out for the microfibre wool and such is worthwhile if you don't like blisters and such, but I go the way of the bandaid and moleskin when I feel a hotspot developing. I've had a lifelong relationship with pain and it doesn't bother me much. Pain avoidance, I find, is a individualistic thing.

I have caps for short hikes and big, floppy expedition hats for long hikes. I've had cataracts removed from both eyes and Colorado's sun is not the same sun I knew in Alabama. It's closer and less filtered. I try to keep the sun out of my eyes and I find most sunglasses to be ineffective.

Secondly, hiking requires something to carry everything in. I'm a Rob Liefeld hiker. I like pockets and lots of them, which is one thing that draws me to overalls. I hate digging through a backpack to find a piece of equipment.

I have two backpacks, one for short, nontechnical hikes and just walking to the store - the other for long, technical hikes and for hauling back 60 pounds of groceries from the store.

I'll be distinguishing between technical hikes and nontechnical hikes. Technical hikes are project oriented, requires equipment, and usually involves the collection of quantitative data. Nontechnical hikes are more casual, requires little equipment, and usually involves observation.

My big backpack can handle a laptop and I have several laptop size inserts with pockets and straps, that can be used to outfit myself with a portable laboratory. American Science and Surplus (bless their little bitty comedic hearts) often carry those kinds of things at prices that a retiree can handle.

I also keep a couple of waist packs (or "fanny packs", if you must) for my photographic material. One of those I almost never carry on hikes because it carries equipment for the SLRD camera, which I only use for portrait photography. I would not want to have to carry that huge thing on a hike (although I wouldn't mind driving up to a ridge one afternoon with it.)

I carry two cameras. I use my regular digital camera for most of my photography. That saves batteries for my phone. That,  I use for much more than photographs. My phone camera is used for closeups, telephotos, and microphotos. It's much better and has much better stabilization than my regular camera.

The phone also carries a library of apps, guidebooks and maps that I use for technical hikes.

I like to be a model of what people on a limited income can do to enjoy their world so I try to avoid expensive equipment and activities. My most expensive piece of equipment is my laptop which, admittedly, is a little pricey, although not nearly so much as when I bought it. But I assume that, if you're reading this, you have access to a computer anyway. My computer is my home lab. I have many pieces of equipment that plugs into the USB port, things that, a few years ago, would have cost a laboratory enough that they would have to save up awhile to buy it. For instance, you can now buy a spectroscope for a computer or smartphone for less than ten dollars.

According to where you live, rain gear is important. In Colorado, definitely. In the southeast, it's a sometimes thing. And in Arizona, do you ever need it? A good, light rain jacket is inexpensive and easy to pack. I've never had any need at all for rain pants. As long as my shoes are relatively waterproof, I'm happy. Actually, I don't mind rain or being wet as long as I'm not also cold. Years working outside in the rain has made me rather blase about most weather conditions.

Werewolves don't get sick easily and heal quickly, but I carry a small first aid kit anyway, mostly for blisters. Plantar blisters plague me and I can slap a bandaid of swatch of moleskin on one and I'm good to go. I carry only what I think I might use. If I get a cut, I'll wipe it off with a moist towelette and smear on some Neosporin. I don't even cover it. If It's bleeding, I let it bleed. There's no better antiseptic/antibiotic in the world than blood. On long hikes, I carry suntan lotion (the spray on greaseless kind) because I'm light skinned and tend to burn easily, and I carry bug spray because biting insects find me tasty.

If I'm gone long, I carry a roll of toilet paper. There are many rest stops on Bear Creek - other places, maybe not so much.

I've taken to wearing a biker's mirror on my glasses, not so much for the bikers; in my area, they're very polite and warn you when they're coming up behind you, but for stalkers. We have a few furry ones who are not very much trouble but, I would want a photo. Briefly, I'm out there to observe my world and I want as much coverage as I can get.

Other than that, I choose the equipment I will need for the project I have at hand. I choose inexpensive and compact tools and I pack so that I can get to what I want when I want it.

Uh, I almost forgot one of the most important pieces of hiking equipment. I always carry an old, worn t-shirt tucked into my back pocket. I sweat a lot and that works much better than a handkerchief to keep the sweat out of my eyes. I can also twist it between the sleeves, flip it over my head so the tail falls over the back of my neck, and tie the twisted part around my forehead for a quick do-rag.

--- Snow business ---
(2016)

There's no business like snow business

Most of my life, I lived in a place (the southeast US) where snow was a rare commodity. Up to the 70s, we would get at least one good snow a year but things changed when I was in college. The snow went away and the armadillos and coyotes moved into Alabama. Now there are capybara in Georgia. Things change.

Now, a light dusting of snow in the southeast will shut everything down.

The year I moved to Colorado was the snowiest year since. When I left Selma, it started snowing on me just south of Birmingham and it snowed on me all the way to Broomfield and continued snowing until well into the spring months.

So I've had three good snow hikes in my life. I'm not counting the walks to work when I was a tutor in Broomfield or the many grocery runs in the snow. There was one SEHowl at Mount Cheaha in Alabama where a snow storm covered the area in March, followed by a tornado that blacked out Anniston and went on to hit Atlanta.

I learned to wear socks when I slept in cold weather. Being the host, I was the first person at the Howl and the only Howler the first night. I went to sleep listening to rain on my tent and woke up to a strangely dark morning. When I unzipped the tent fly, snow cascaded in. I also noticed that I couldn't feel my feet. I didn't even look at them. I put my clothes on and drove to the developed campground up the road. When I got to the showers I examined my feet and was relieved to find that I would not lose any toes.

After my morning ritual, I hiked up the mountain to the country store at the top.

I love snow.

I've also hiked twice to Mount Carbon in the snow. On the first hike, the snow had melted from the paved path and I still considered Mount Carbon to be a necessary evil that stood between me and Morrison. I've walked to Morrison several times and there's no way around the two hundred foot rise on the path. I either take the trail over Mount Carbon or I take the road over the shoulder of Green Mountain. Neither are very pleasant and I had always considered both to be rather ugly - until I tried the Mount Carbon Loop Trail.

This trail shows Mount Carbon at it's best, following a series of switchbacks along the flanks of the hill to the summit. On the way, it provides some spectacular vistas.

Earlier this year, I decided to hike to the top of Mount Carbon in the snow using the Loop Trail.  I've hiked in just about every kind of weather available where I have lived, but this was my first snow hike. I started around 8:00 on a 2 degree but sunny morning.My Neanderthal physiology kept me nice and warm with no more than my usual cold weather get-up - overalls, sweater, and leather jacket.

I found that my body had to adapt to the cycle of focusing on each step to avoid crashing to the ground. About half way to the end of the hike up, I no longer had to concentrate on my pace and could enjoy the scenery.

The hike up Mount Carbon was grueling. The trail is a ledge and doesn't provide much room for mistakes. A fall probably wouldn't kill me, but the scrubby brush blanketing the hill wouldn't be pleasant. Still the view was spectacular and well worth the work.

(Mount Carbon in the snow)

(Mount Carbon Loop Trail)

(Green Mountain from Mount Carbon)

(The ledge)

(Mount Morrison)

(Denver skyline)

(Almost to the top)


I made the top ("Summit" would be an appropriate verb but it seems a little overblown for such a small prominence.) a little after noon. It was 27 degrees and I felt great.

(Me on top)

I gazed out at the Rockies and down at the tiny shelters of the ice fishers on Bear Creek Lake.

The really nice surprise came when I started down. Gravity did all the work. I felt like I was drifting down the side and the descent was quick and painless.

I made it back home before dark in great spirits. This was the hike where I tried out new methods to prevent the plantar blisters which had plagued my hikes all my life and the simple step of sticking duct tape on the balls of my feet did the trick.

By the way, you might have noticed that some of these posts are dated 2016. Those were written last year. I wanted to have a backlog built up so I could keep a fairly consistent stream of new posts appearing. Also, my adventures will be somewhat topical. The posts I wrote last year are general subjects - the blog, my geographical area, resources, and such. In 2017, I'll be looking at philosophy, psychology, parapsychology, and religion around Bear Creek and Denver.