A Journal of Movement
The mind wanders. Legs get wrestless. This is a place for stories, stories about going places, about the things that happen along the way, about the people you meet and the things you discover. Open this door and follow along on journeys short and long, but be careful how far you go, for even I’m still trying to find my way back…
This is a topic I’d been wanting to write about previously, but have only now found the motivation after my recent and unplanned decision to run a marathon. Now, with my legs as tight as a drum, and my general mobility restricted to the house, I’ve found the motivation to put together some words on the subject. Continue reading “Endurance, Recovery, and the Miracle of The Bike”
Truth be told, the only rest day Liz and I took on our recent 7-night trip in the Enchantments was our first full day in the alpine. After slogging alongside Snow Creek and the 10-12 miles up to our base camp, a good meal and a nights rest were in order. When the next day dawned, I was up and ready, taking in the beautiful surroundings and turning over all the endless possibilities that may fill the days ahead. Although we both felt relatively well for having shouldered some big-ass packs for almost 5,000 vertical feet and 9 hours the day before, we thought it’d be wise to take a day to rest and recuperate, which took the form of a casual stroll up the broad Northeast shoulder of Little Annapurna Peak. The next day, ready for adventure, we tackled our first adventure, a combination of 5th class climbing and scrambling over the Nightmare Needles and up the convoluted Southern expanse of McClellan Peak. Check out the wright up here, or just look below, HA! Continue reading “How to take a rest day in the mountains.”
It was our third day camped out in the headwaters of Crystal Creek. We were as close to the edge of the permit zone of the Enchantment Basin, in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, as we could get. Two days ago we had left Leavenworth with 50+ pound packs, loaded with food, fuel, and enough climbing equipment to keep us busy for over a week. The awkward and oversized packs barely fit in our bicycle trailers and the thought of flat tires was a real threat on my mind. We reached the trailhead without incident, and began the slog-fest to the high peaks above. The 10+ mile approach took about 9 hours, and I was happy we made for an early start when around 5 o’clock in the evening we found a suitable spot, hidden, out of the way, and near abundant fresh water. My ass had suffered, with at least one spot rubbed raw by the oversized expedition pack I was carrying. Without a scale I’ll never know exactly how much my pack weighed, but my earlier excitement with carrying two ropes, 9 days of food, a tent, bag, and daypack had turned into happiness that I hadn’t injured myself carrying all this gear that most likely topped out at over 70 lbs, and was, hopefully, the heaviest pack I’ll ever carry.
For the last week Liz and I had a base camp high in the Enchantment Peaks. With Eastern Washington burning around us, many of the climbers and residents of Leavenworth and nearby towns have run off to seek higher ground and an escape from the smoke. For those with automobiles, escape means Washington Pass, North Cascades, Smith Rock, or a variety of other destinations. For Liz and I, not limited but bound to human power, we put our hopes on the high country of the Enchantment Peaks. With fires blocking access to some of our bigger goals, we had to re-think our plans, and make the best of a world on fire. We were rewarded with many days of clean air, some days of smoke, and one of the best times anyone could ask for. Continue reading “Higher Ground”
For the past week fires have raged in Eastern Washington. The “Wenatchee complex” as it is known, is contributing to hazardous and unhealthy air quality in Wenatchee and Leavenworth. Another fire on Mt. Cashmere in the Icicle canyon has lead to road and trailhead closures. For Liz and I, this has meant a second look at our objectives and goals for these last few weeks of our stay here in Leavenworth. Continue reading “Shakaka Unbound”
When we arrived in Leavenworth this spring, it was the first time either Liz or myself had ever seen the town, the Stuart Range, or the Cascades. A dry ski season had left us with strong legs, weak butts, and a voracious appetite for climbing. With only our bicycles for transportation our appetite was indeed larger then our ability for those first few weeks. Slowly we worked our way into the season with short trips up the Tumwater and Icicle canyons, the packs on our backs were heavily laden with gear. Hobo’s Gulch, Clem’s Holler, Castle Rock, Pearly Gates, we methodically worked our way up the road, each ride a little farther, each climb a little harder. After a while we wised up and put some slick tires on our bikes and threw down some dough for a couple of B.O.B. trailers to get the gear off our backs and save our asses some unnecessary pain. We’ve come a long way since those first weeks of this human powered season, our cycling has become more efficient, faster, and more pleasurable, and our climbing has improved in the same ways. Not only the physical nature of our trips has increased though, the mental toughness required to undertake a multi night adventure in this style is demanding. Should either of us be hurt or otherwise compromised, we’re a long walk and ride from town. The more we’ve become accustomed to this risk and accepted its many challenges, physical and mental, the more successful, exciting, and purely awesome our trips have become. On our most recent bicycle-powered excursion into the Stuart Range, we wanted to push the envelope even farther by undertaking a committing alpine climb, from town, all human power, in one day. We aimed high, and were rewarded with one of the finest climbs, and most rewarding experiences of the summer. Continue reading “Dragontail Peak, Serpentine Arete”
Sounds like the beginning to a children’s story, but these two peaks help form the quartet of spires that is the Rat Creek Group. This collection of towers lies just a few short miles from Icicle Road as the crow flies, but a world away when you consider the trail less expanse of bushwhacking and blow downs separating it from would-be climbers. For our first single day alpine attempt, town to town, human powered, we chose the Mole, the largest in this quartet of spires lying just in view from the bottom of the canyon. Continue reading “The Mole and The Shrew”