ADZPCTKO

Following my Pacific Crest Trail section hike last week, I had the good fortune to attend the Annual Day Zero Pacific Crest Trail Kick Off (ADZPCTKO, 'the kickoff', or just ADZ).

I didn't really have an idea what to expect. Sure, I'd read about the kickoff in trail journals, and Paul (Potential 178) told me how much fun he had at the '07 gathering, but it was still something of an enigma. In thru-hiking circles the kickoff is both praised and opposed to both ends of the spectrum. Proponents laud the camaraderie, education, and nostalgic benefits, while detractors complain of the 'herd' (too many hikers starting at once) and lack of solitude. In the end, the 'hike your own hike' mantra seems to prevail.

So, it's the Thursday before the kickoff weekend as Paul and I hike South into Lake Morena. Already there's so many tents scattered about it looked like an REI truck exploded. Of course, on closer inspection, most of the lightweight shelters wouldn't be found at REI, being a breed currently known only to thru-hikers and well educated backpackers. Silnylon, Tyvek, and even some Cuben Fibre tents prevailed.

We found the registration tent and received our name tags and camp site assignments. After setting up, we went up to the disappointingly provisioned 'Malt Shop' to get a snack. Fortunately, a local entrepreneur had set up his chuck wagon, 'Ray's Bitchen Kitchen', to augment the food supply. Ray had never met a vegetarian before, so I was happy to enlighten him on the ins and outs. I had a 'bitchen' plate of beans and corn with a warm tortilla and "seriously, no meat at all?".

Once we had settled in, I followed Paul around to meet some of his friends from previous hikes. I quickly took a liking to Squatch and Jester, as they shared my immature joy in bathroom humour. Squatch is a famous character on the PCT, being the producer of numerous movies about trail life. He also has an unfeasibly large fanny-pack which provided for hours of entertainment. Near our campsite we met up with a group we had run into back at Warner Springs, where we recycled some trail jokes and stories. Nitro, Tomato, The Onion, Heinz, Swifty, Ducky, Nano, Bearcant and I formed an entourage for the remainder of the weekend, staying up late by the fire and disturbing as many people as possible. This nucleus attracted many visitors, and we were regaled by stories of both the trail and real life.

I should make a side note about trail names here. Hikers come from all walks of life (pun intended) but mostly none of us were ever those cool frat guys with names like "Pinto" and "Flounder". In response, the concept of trail names was invented. The best trail names are given on the trail, by other hikers, usually inspired by an event or character trait. Some trail names stick for life, while others are only for that year's hike. Paul's trail name, 'Potential 178', is one of those names that comes with a fantastic story. Let me explain. No, there's not enough time. Let me summarize. Paul was given a hard time by US Customs last year, where it was deemed he may be a burden on the US economy, or a 'potential 178' in border-guard lingo.

Anyway, back to the kickoff. Besides sitting around in the shade drinking beer, there were other events and happenings. We saw slideshows from previous year's thru-hikers, a screening of one of Squatch's movies, gear contests, auctions, and informative seminars on trail conditions. The highlight of all these events had to be the ones involving trail legend Eric Ryback. Eric is famous in the hiking world for being the first to thru-hike the PCT, among other achievements. He has been detached from the hiking community (in fact, he didn't know there was such a thing), and it was only after some family members of his who hiked the trail last year that he got in touch with the ADZ planners.

The first presentation involving Ryback was a panel of 'old timers' giving their views on the trail from the 70's compared to now. A few of these were trail-hardened octogenarians who enjoyed berating us youngsters and our cel phones and MP3 players. The panel started to slip into a "you damn kids these days" speech, but then it was Eric's turn to talk. He was so positive, and excited about the trail community, that the whole auditorium gained a buzz of electricity. His now-famous comment was "I'm tempted to go and call my wife and tell her I won't be home for 5 months" (or words to that effect). Eric was astounded to discover the sense of community and fellowship among the hikers. He didn't lecture us on how hard he had it, instead he shared his excitement in the new gear and technology available. Not to dismiss the other panel members, some did have interesting comments and it was fascinating to hear about their adventures, but I couldn't help wanting to hear more from Eric Ryback.

Fortunately, there was more. Saturday evening presented us with a slide show and talk from Eric, featuring slides (yes, actual 35mm film positives, no Powerpoint!) from his 1970 hike. Equipped with jeans, a wood framed pack, and no sunglasses, Eric started in a snow-covered Washington and hiked south to the Mexican border. The crowd was very receptive, and nobody soured the mood with questions about the controversy involving his thru-hike (witnesses claim he hitchhiked around some of the areas. We all chose to not care. Hike your own hike.) The day also gave me the opportunity to explore the specialty gear makers' displays, and meet the people behind the gear. I chatted with Henry Shires (Tarptent) and got a preview of his new tent design. I'm ready to order when you are, Henry!

On Sunday, Swifty hiked down to the border (I really wanted to go, but my knee was acting up and I didn't want to do any more damage). Instead, the entourage piled into two cars to drive down to the border and meet her. We stopped for a gallon or two of ice cream before hitting the dusty road to the border fence. The border was an odd mixture of barbed wire, sheet metal, and sponsored placards from insecure Americans. I'm sure the scene of a bunch of dirty hikers posing for photos made the minutemen nervous, but they didn't interfere.

Other memorable times involved cooking burritos for 500. You've never cooked until you've cooked refried beans on a barbecue. The volunteer spirit was in full-force in the kitchen area, and there was never a shortage of volunteers. We also performed interventions, helping overpacked hikers lower their pack weights. The remainder of the time was usually spent hanging out with other hikers, while my evenings were spent with the entourage around the campfire. One evening was spent at 'the cabins' which is an area noisy hikers are encouraged to go to, to avoid disrupting people at the campground who need an early start the next morning. The party at the cabins was a riot, and, after a bit of night hiking, I got to bed at around 4:00am. Not typical hiker bedtime!

On Monday morning the air around the campground was quiet and solemn. The thru-hikers left for the next leg of their trip, and the rest of us packed up for home. It was sad to say goodbye to my new friends, and we promised to keep in touch. Hopefully, a group of them are going to visit me in Victoria late summer and hike the West Coast Trail. I'm already counting down the days!

For more photos check out Mad Monte's and Splash's photo pages.

Pacific Crest Trail section hike (Warner to Morena Southbound)

For my first backpacking adventure of 2008, I joined my friend Paul (Potential 178) on a section hike of the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT). For those not familiar with the PCT, it runs through the Western states, from Campo on the Mexican border to Manning Park in Canada. More information can be found on the Pacific Crest Trail Association web site.

Paul and I both were able to lower our base pack weights to well under 10 pounds, and were very excited about testing out our new found buoyancy. On April 17 I took a ferry to Vancouver, enjoyed dinner with a friend, then made my way to Paul's apartment. After a bit of last minute gear organizing and food packing, we had a short sleep before heading to the airport the next morning.

Not wanting to risk misdirected baggage (you wouldn't believe how often this happens to me) we opted to pay extra for a direct flight to San Diego. We arrived midday and proceeded to the tin-man statue to wait for two other hikers, and a ride from Pea "Girlscout" Hicks (more on trail names in a future post). After stopping for tacos, Girlscout took us back to his place where he generously has made space and amenities available to hikers. The plan was for Girlscout to drive some people to Campo in the morning, then come back and take Paul and I to Warner Springs in the afternoon. Unfortunately, we had a severe case of trail fever and couldn't wait, so we called up a cab. A very expensive cab. The driver and his co-pilot had no idea where they were going, and ended up going 20 miles out of the way. By this time it was nearly midnight, we were hungry and grumpy, and didn't argue the price. Much to Paul's dismay, I even gave them a small tip.

The next hiccup was on checking in to Warner Springs Ranch. The lady at the counter insisted that as it was after midnight on a Thursday, she had to charge us weekend rates. This obviously made no sense, but we didn't have much choice so she left a note to the manager to discuss it with us in the morning. Sure enough, as we're walking across the road to find breakfast, Maureen, the manager, comes running out to apologize for the error. Our spirits are lifted, and we enjoy a great breakfast at the golf course club house. Overall, I'm very impressed with Warner Springs, all of the staff went out of their way to make sure we enjoyed our stay, even the night-shift security guard was chatty and curious about our hike. Next time I definitely want to stay longer to enjoy all the serves the ranch has to offer.

Okay, so we're finally on the trail! Our destination for the day was a short 9 miles to Barrel Springs. Maureen had described a horse trail we could use to get to the PCT and avoid some road walking, which was a nice start to the day. Once on the PCT we followed Cañada Verde Creek, gracefully lined with Oak trees, until emerging into chapparel covered hills and ranges. One of the famous landmarks on the PCT is Eagle Rock, an appropriately named mass of rocks that no hiker wielding a camera will ever bypass. Paul commented that it didn't look remarkably like an Eagle, but then we proceeded to the correct side and were properly impressed. We stopped here for a snack and plenty of photos. The land here is quite dry, but there are some seasonal creeks. We stop off at San Ysidro Creek to dip our feet, then hike the last few miles to Barrel Springs.

Setting up camp at Barrel Springs, we meet a few thru-hikers, including the infamous Warner Springs Monty. Monty is a character who helps maintain the water pipe at Barrel, among many other duties. He also is very involved in the annual kickoff party, ADZPCTKO (report to follow), and took the opportunity to drum up our interest in helping to prepare food at the kickoff. Our night at Barrel was otherwise uneventful, and we were serenaded to sleep by a chorus of frogs, crickets, and owls. And crazy drunk redneck women screaming at their cars at 3:00am. In the morning, I briefly chatted with a couple of turkey hunters heading up into the woods to catch something to put in their sandwiches.

From Barrel Springs we proceeded up into the hills, past Billy Goat's Cave, (Billy Goat is a well-known hiker who, rumour has it, was born in this cave. Or maybe he just took shelter here on a particularly hot day. Trail gossip is great.) The trail in this area wasn't overly spectacular, but still nice to be out and about. Small flowers attracted butterflies, and small prickly vegetation attracted my buttocks. Water promises to be scarce, so we tanked up with 3 litres of Barrel's finest. Midday we arrived at the Third Gate Water Cache, an oasis of bottled water for thirsty hikers. As the day wasn't too hot, and we still had a bit of water from Barrel, we just took a splash each. The cache is resupplied by trail angels (and hikers with spare time) via a 1 mile spur trail down to the road. We contemplated camping here and playing Gungadin, but it was still early in the day so instead opted for more miles. The databook promised a "sandy wash" ahead, so we saddled up and hit the trail again. The winds started to pick up, and by the time we got to the sandy wash, it was evident we'd need to find a sheltered spot to set up camp. The wash had a lot of flat ground to choose from, so we spent half an hour walking around, eventually settling on nice spots protected by shrubberies. The wind brought cooler evening temperatures, so it was early to bed to read, justifying the extra weight of the book I brought along (The Salmon of Doubt by Douglas Adams).

The next landmark on the trail was Scissors Crossing, where the trail intersects a couple of highways. We must have been hungry when we got to the road crossing, as we took a wrong turn and headed a mile up the highway in the wrong direction. After a bit of frustration, we narrowly avoided fisticuffs by finding the correct trail 10 feet to the right of where we turned left. Shortly after the road crossing we found a small patch of shade we shared with a couple of thru-hikers and prepared some lunch. Spirits lifted, we walked another mile to the next water cache. The Scissors water cache is right by the road, so we felt a little better about filling up our supply as nobody had to hike the water in. A gaggle of section and thru hikers was gathered in the limited shade, and we enjoyed a few trail stories and a brief rest. A mile of flat, treeless land lead us to the looming hills ahead. We were told there wasn't too many flat spots after we crested the first batch of hills, so we agreed to look for a camp spot once we had made a few miles into the hills. We passed quite a few nice spots, but really weren't ready to make camp, so kept on hiking until just before the crest. A little worried that we had passed all the good spots, we agreed to stop at the next reasonable area. It turned out to be a very nice spot with a view of the valley below, and the trail from the previous day's hiking back into the hills.

Although we each had a bit of trail damage to our feet, we woke up in otherwise good spirits and health, eager for a solid day of hiking. Plenty of ups and downs today, punctuated by flowering cactus, panoramic views, and wind. Our first rest was at the Rodriguez Spur fire tank, the biggest bucket of water around. Just below the fire tank was a spigot where we could fill up with water and rest in the shade. We heard a voice from up at the tank, and upon investigation met Eric, one of the only two people to yo-yo (hike the trail both directions in one year) the PCT. A humble and friendly chap, Eric remembered Potential from the trail last year and was happy to answer our gear-related questions I'm sure he'd been asked countless times before. With a base pack weight of under 5 pounds, Eric's spartan gear list made our previously ultralight packs fall into the shameful category of just plain lightweight. From the fire tank, we almost took another wrong turn up the spur road, but quickly realized there were no footprints or other clues of the trail. A gate with a PCT sticker on it revealed the correct path, and we quickly moved on. Just around the corner we spotted a hiker perched in a field of yellow flowers who was excited to hear that he was just a few hundred feet from the fire tank. Shortly thereafter we started up a steep hill climb where we ran into Ridgewalker and Lynn, the other hikers who shared Girlscout's ride from the airport with us. Once reaching the summit, we hunkered down in a nice shady spot for a long lunch and rest. Rejuvenated, we decided to push on to the Sunrise Trailhead, which offered clean outhouses with a nice.. umm "backdraft." From Sunrise we kept on going, eventually hitting Kwaaymii Point, a fantastic stretch of abandoned road perched on the edge of a massive cliff face. Popular for hang gliding, the rock-strewn ledge had several memorials to fallen hang gliding enthusiasts. From Kwaaymii, we proceeded to the Pioneer Mail trailhead, a picnic area with outhouses and a water tank. The water tank was polluted with dead rats, but luckily a local Samaritan had provided jugs of fresh water for the hikers, which we shared with the 15 or so others camped in the picnic area. Dusk arrived quickly, so we tucked into bed shortly after Paul tried to warn some night-hikers about the dangerous water. They stormed past, upset that Paul's flashlight was ruining their night vision.

After a cold night at Pioneer Mail, we quickly packed up camp in eager anticipation of our first town stop at Mt. Laguna. The miles flew by, and before we knew it we could see the radar station that marked the outskirts of Mt. Laguna. A little bit of road walking, and the glowing beacon of the Mt. Laguna Lodge general store. The store is a hiker's paradise, offering such delicacies as microwave burritos, ice cream sandwiches, beer, and plenty of packaged food for a resupply. The brothers who run it are helpful and very hiker friendly, always happy to sit on the deck and hear some trail news. The deck at Laguna is a part of hiker lore, and almost every hiker has a story that starts with "so we were sitting on the deck at Laguna..." We booked a cabin for the night, loaded up on burritos, and plunked down for about 4 hours on the deck with some other hikers. Russ, a former gold miner, regaled us with tales of stripping the land bare. Pheeew, after a few hours of unsuccessful hitchhiking in the sun, demonstrated gravity's awesome power by falling off the deck and breaking her ankle in two places. (I'm told she's had it splinted and is resuming her thru-hike. Look forward to her book!). This prompted a visit from the local emergency services crew, who were very helpful and professional. Later on, a group of hikers showed up who will end up playing a major roll in my enjoyment of the kickoff, and hopefully will be hiking with me on the West Coast Trail this Fall. The evening was punctuated with some horrible television and good beer in our cabin.

Although we enjoyed our 20 miler the previous day, we were in no rush to get to the end of our hike, so we broke up the trip to Morena by stopping at Cibbets Flat campground. Cibbets was a picturesque spot by a creek, with clean outhouses and private camp spots. As it is about half a mile off the trail, we didn't see any other hikers for the night. In the morning, we had our last on-trail breakfast and began the final leg of our journey.

On the way to Lake Morena and the kickoff, we stopped at Boulder Oaks campground where some trail angels were handing out Gatorade and sandwiches. We were fine for supplies, but couldn't pass up an ice cold drink. The last of our food was consumed under the shade of an oak tree, then the lure of the Lake Morena Malt Shop's famous fries beckoned us onwards. The miles went quickly, interrupted only by the occasional rattlesnake. When we arrived at Lake Morena, there must have already been 100 tents set up for the kickoff party, even though it didn't begin until the next day. We found our assigned spots and set up camp, then headed up to the store. To our bitter disappointment, the shopkeep informed us that he wasn't going to open up the deli for another month, thereby denying over 500 ADZ attendees and countless more hikers the chance of a cold milkshake or tasty french fries. The store had a pathetic selection of food, mostly just potato chips and beef jerky. Fortunately, it had beer and ice cream sandwiches, so all was not lost. Fortified with San Diego's Red Trolley Ale, we headed back to the campground to settle in for 4 days of fun at the ADZPCTKO, which I will review in a few days.

In which the remainder of my overtime pay gets spent

Although I'd love to take an SLR with a range of lenses, flash, filters, and tripod, it wouldn't really work with my style of hiking. Aside from the weight and bulk, if I have to spend 10 minutes setting up a photo, I probably won't bother to stop. On the other hand, if I have a camera in my pocket ready to go, I'll probably end up with a decent amount of good quality photos.

With the decision made to bring a small and portable, rather than large professional quality camera, there's still a number of other options - but the largest one is probably film vs. digital.
Film cameras, although becoming obsolete for anyone other than a traditionalist or specialist, do offer some benefits over digital. Weight, price, and durability to name three. A moderate quality, feature sparse film camera can be had for under $50, weighs a couple of ounces, and can survive most punishment you throw at it. A lot of them don't need batteries unless you want to use the flash, offering further weight savings (not to mention 6 months on a thru-hike without having to recharge). On the downside, you have to buy film, carry plenty of it, and pay to have it developed.

Digital cameras are generally heavier than film cameras, there's no getting around that. Up until now, I usually carried a Kodak EasyShare DX4900, at nearly 10 oz. including battery, memory card, and wrist strap. Although I've had excellent results, often comparable to pictures taken with much higher end cameras, I had to keep it in a padded case, waterproof bag, and be extremely careful around sand and wet areas. It is also fairly bulky, and feels uncomfortable in a pocket. The advantages of a digital camera, including holding hundreds of photos, still made it worth it to me over a film camera.

Last week, I decided it was time to replace the aging Kodak with something more suited to the outdoors. I did quite a lot of research online, and narrowed it down to either the Olympus Stylus 850 SW or the Pentax Optio W30. Both cameras came in at roughly the same price, and had a pretty similar feature set. Both are water and dust proof, lightweight (around 5 oz inclusive), and small enough to fit in a pocket.

I went into my local camera store and asked the clerk to help me narrow down my selection to one camera. He suggested that the Olympus had one major advantage: it was shock proof as well as waterproof. Knowing how rough I can be on gear in the outdoors, this sounded like a great feature. I paid the man, came home, and crossed another 5 oz. off my gear list!
In two weeks I head off for a section hike of the Pacific Crest Trail, so I'll be sure to post some photos and a review of the camera when I return.

Spring Gear Splurge

Last year, I finished the season with a respectable base weight of around 16 pounds. While discussing our upcoming Pacific Crest Trail section hike, I proudly mentioned this to Paul. "Wow," he said, "that's a pretty heavy base weight." Ouch, there goes my ego!
I've recently worked a lot of overtime, so I have a bit of extra spending money. Well, I did, until 15 minutes after Paul's comment. I've ordered a new pack (Mountain Laurel Super Prophet), water bladder (Platypus Big Zip 1.8L), mattress (Gossamer Gear NightLight), Wind Jacket (GoLite Ether), and a few other bits & pieces. I've also tweaked some of my existing gear, including streamlining my first aid kit, repackaging hygiene items, and eliminating items unnecessary for the specific locale.

The verdict? My base weight is under 10 pounds! I've posted a spreadsheet, please feel free to take a look and offer any suggestions. I plan to review all of the new gear, and detail the optimization steps to get to this weight.

Crunch time

In an effort to compensate for a winter of sloth-like activity, I've started an exercise schedule to help me get back into shape. Using a Google Apps spreadsheet, I'll keep track of my daily mileage and fitness routine. It's a bit geeky trying to use a spreadsheet to get in shape, but I find having a visual aid helps me stay on track. Shadow, my training partner, is really enjoying this new fitness routine as well. She's getting at least 6 or 7 kilometers of walking/hiking/running a day, rain or shine. She doesn't much care for the spreadsheet though.

The other geeky thing I've added to my fitness routine is my GPS. Not exactly a necessary item, but I really like knowing how far I've hiked, what my average speed was, as well as learning to use the darned thing. I don't know if it will join me on any backpacking adventures, but at 5 oz it isn't too unreasonable to bring on some trips. If there's any interest, I'll write up a review and usage guide for it.

Out of Hibernation

I'd like to start by apologizing for my shockingly long absence from posting. I could give you the usual excuses about being busy and all that, but really it's because the dog ate my homework.
Anyhow, spring is here on the West Coast, and my desire to get back out on the trails is in full bloom.

So far I have two hikes confirmed to tell you about. First, I'll be joining my friend Paul (Potential 178) on a week-long Pacific Crest Trail adventure in late April. We'll be flying down to San Diego, hiking a section of the trail southbound, and finishing up in time to participate in the ADZPCTKO. Paul has hiked the southern section of the PCT twice now, so I look forward to learning from his experience.

My second confirmed hike will also be on the PCT, but this time with my brother, Nathan. In August, we'll be tackling a section in Southern Oregon, around the Crater Lake area. I've vacationed in Crater Lake, but I'm very excited about getting onto the trails in the surrounding area.

I really need to get in shape quickly, as it's only 6 weeks until I'm on the trail. I have a layer of winter fat to shed, some gear to update, food to prepare, and itineraries to plan. I'll keep you up to date with my progress!

Trip Report: Yoho National Park

Our search for the sun was successful! On Wednesday morning, Ian and I got on the 9:00am ferry and headed towards the mountains. Because this was a last-minute adventure, we decided to go into familiar territory and headed for Yoho National Park. After a motel stop in Revelstoke, we proceeded early on Thursday morning to the Yoho Information Centre to purchase our park permit and wilderness passes. We asked about some of the backcountry hiking which allowed for "random camping" (no assigned campsites) but were advised that the best hiking was in the Yoho Valley. We chose an itinerary based on this advice, and opted for 3 nights: one night each at Twin Falls, Little Yoho River, and Yoho Lake.

Plans were settled, and we eagerly set off for the short drive up Yoho Valley Road towards Takakkaw Falls. Around 11:00 am, we quickly grabbed our packs and headed up the Yoho River trail. It only took about 5 minutes to leave the tourist-filled parking lot behind, and soon we were in the relative solitude of the Yoho Valley.

The hike to Twin Falls is about 8km on well-marked trails. Although this is some of the most accessible, beautiful hiking around, we only saw a couple of day hikers and even fewer backpackers. After an hour, roughly halfway along the Yoho River trail, we passed Laughing Falls which I assume got its name from when I tripped over a root and Ian laughed at me. Another hour later and we were at the Twin Falls campground. No, we didn't both trip over here: this one is actually named for the waterfall that divides into two distinct plumes falling 180 meters (591 feet). We set up camp and had lunch, then put on the daypack and headed up towards the Yoho Glacier.

The trail up to the Glacier begins in a pine forest, but soon opens on an expansive and barren valley and the Yoho River. Panoramic views of the Waputik Icefield, Mt Balfour, Mt Gordon, and Yoho Peak prevail. Hiking up the rock strewn pathway, the trail gets steeper and then scrambled up some rocks beside multiple waterfalls. We explored the waterfalls for a while, scrambling about on the rocks and looking for a safe place to safely cross a small branch of the river to continue on the trail. As it was getting late in the afternoon, the river was fairly wide, and we didn't feel comfortable with jumping the distance and risking a twisted ankle. After a bit more exploring, we started back towards camp. A father and son went by, in a rush to avoid what they predicted was an impending storm. They mentioned that it was just a "hop" across the river, but we still opted for safety and continued back to camp. The "storm" never materialized, so we spent the rest of the evening relaxing by the river with a book and plenty to eat.

Day two was to take us to the Little Yoho campsite. Heading out of camp, the trail takes you to the base of Twin Falls for some fantastic views, then punishes you for them by heading straight up to the top of the Falls. Well, not quite straight -- there's plenty of switchbacks. Once at the top of the Falls we stopped for lunch and took many photographs of the valley down below. Thankfully, the ruggedness of this trail keeps the majority of tourists away, so the steep cliffs are accessible without the usual blight of guard rails, fences, and warning signs. Common sense keeps you at a reasonable distance, while allowing for an unimpeded view for hundreds of miles.

Once we crossed over the top of Twin Falls, the trail continued to climb for a bit to the top of Whaleback (7250 ft.) A few more photos, and we headed down the much-steeper switchbacks towards the Little Yoho River. We both agreed that coming up from this direction would have been much harder. About 7km from where we started, we arrived at a junction and headed up the Little Yoho River trail. This 5km trail went through a mostly forested area with beautiful meadows and stream crossings until arriving at the Little Yoho campground. We set up camp and had lunch, then freshened up in the ice-cold river.

I was still full of energy at this point, so I decided to head up the 4km trail to Kiwetinok Pass. Ian was feeling his age and opted to stay at camp and guard the coffee. I grabbed some water and a snack then headed up the trail. After about 10 minutes I arrived at an unmarked 3-way junction. David, a gentleman we had met at the previous campsite, had been exploring the area and said the right-hand fork looked like the one to the pass, so off I went. A couple of easy river crossings were required, then playtime was over. The trail went straight up, and then got steeper. I was in full spirits, and practically jogged up the next few kilometers. After one false summit, I crested a second ridge and was rewarded with a small, deep-blue lake of stunning clarity. I took a short break and splashed about in the frigid water, then sprinted up the final section of trail to the top of the pass. Absolutely stunning views in all directions took my breath away, and I cursed myself for forgetting my camera. Luckily David came to the rescue and sent me some great photos, including the one at the top of this paragraph. He also advised me that the

I eventually tore myself away from the top of the world, and bounced down the trail past a few other hikers, practically beaming with contentment. When I got back to camp, I tried not to gush too much about the trail to Ian as I knew he had a hard time saying no to the hike. He made the right choice though, and didn't take a risk that could have made the rest of the trip less enjoyable.

Saturday morning, we awoke to another clear day, and started the trek towards Yoho Lake. After a few kilometers in the forest, we reached the junction to the Iceline Trail. This popular trail follows a ridge just below the Emerald Glacier, and winds through a boulder-strewn landscape replete with small lakes, ice patches, and creeks. Views of Takakkaw Falls and the Daly Glacier proved irresistible to our cameras. We passed dozens of dayhikers equally dazzled by the sights, exhausted after their climb from the valley below. After about 6km on the Iceline Trail, we turned back into the trees toward Yoho Lake.

Emerging into the campground and picnic area at Yoho Lake was a little surreal. A very popular dayhiking spot, the lake front was filled with screaming children, dogs, and guided tour groups. I knew they had all made a long, steep hike to get there, so I didn't begrudge them for intruding on my solitude. We scouted out the available campsites, and found one by the lake with a couple just packing up ready to leave. Rather than hover over them, we retreated back to the main beach area to relax and put our feet up. When the couple still hadn't left after an hour, we settled for a spot in the trees. The lakefront spot probably was probably too close to the water anyway.

After setting up camp, we started to head towards Yoho Pass and Emerald Lake. Once over the pass it was 4km straight down to Emerald Lake, and we were a bit hesitant to hike that far down and end our day with a long uphill hike. I felt suddenly very clammy and sweaty, and really wanted to go back to Yoho Lake for a swim. We abandoned our hike and headed back to the campsite, which was now deserted. I took the opportunity to don the special swimsuit given to me at birth, and jumped in the glacier-fed lake. The water was a bit warmer than the rivers at the other campsites, and I managed to cleanse myself without risking hypothermia.

After my swim, we noticed black thunderheads racing towards us over Wapta Mountain. The air thickened, then shook with thunder. We quickly strung up our small siltarp and had dinner under the shelter while the heavens opened up for an hour-long deluge. Goretex laden campers hurried in from their various explorations and sought the shelter of their tents. It seems we were the only ones who have discovered the 4 oz. siltarp. I wonder if my sudden need to abandon our hike was my body's spidey-sense tingling and detecting the coming storm long before my eyes did? Maybe I'll get a job as a meteorologist. Or a superhero. Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's a Weatherman!

I digress. The storm passed and everyone emerged from the nylon cocoons. The rest of the evening was spent reading, relaxing, and chatting with our new friends Barry and oh-I'm-so-bad-with-names. If you're reading this, please forgive my ignorance, you know what we all smoke out here in BC. And mom, I know you read my blog, I'm just kidding. (Edit: Barry and Jennifer sent me an email too!)

Sunday morning we awoke early and quickly packed up camp. It was a short 4km hike back to the car, and we knew we could make the 9:00pm ferry if we didn't dawdle. Just as we put our packs on it started to drizzle. Hiking in the rain is fine, but I'm glad we didn't have to pack up in it. 45 minutes later we were in the car, and headed into Field to have breakfast at the Truffle Pigs Cafe. With casual service, excellent coffee, and a small but tasty menu, Truffle Pigs is an adventure in itself. Allow for an hour or so as it's usually busy, but there's plenty of knickknacks and distractions to pass the time.

The drive home was long and uneventful, an although we got to the ferry terminal at 6:45, there was a two-sailing wait so we were on the 9:00 sailing anyway. The buffet made the crossing bearable, and shortly before midnight I was home to a warm shower and soft bed.