Self-arrest lessons

Training for the trail has most certainly been moving forward. One major task was to practice/learn using an ice axe to self arrest and self belay. Luckily my husband has mountaineering training and experience-his tutorials are fantastic.  All I wanted for Christmas this year was a trusty Black Diamond Raven Pro Ice Axe, and that is what I got-my first real tool. Have to say, with my record of cutting myself with sharp objects, I've been a bit apprehensive about thrusting my body weight onto something so close to the major arteries in my neck. But with safety precautions, body awareness, and practice, I feel more empowered to have those reflexes available should the time come, i.e. I'm sliding down an icy mountain slope.

Last weekend Jacob and I drove up near Sonora Pass, to the snow, found a snow covered hill, and made a snow run. Guess my Minnesota roots came out-makes me want to get into more snow/winter activities.....

The following is what I learned from that lesson:

How to use an Ice Axe:

A Basic Ice Axe is a traditional, and essential safety tool used in mountaineering. Not to be confused with a Technical Ice Axe, or Ice Tool, a Basic Ice Axe serves as a balance and safety device while ascending or descending steep icy or snowy slopes. This wicked-awesome tool can be life-saving, for self-arrest in an unexpected run in with gravity, to carve steps, and as a self belay in the form of a retrievable snow anchor when you need to rappel down a pitch but don't have a better natural feature to tie onto. Learning to use an Ice Axe is an exciting and necessary skill for anyone interested in winter hiking and mountaineering, and will be helpful for us if/when we run into snow on the PCT.

The main components of an ice axe are

• The Adze: this is the wide, flat end of the head used for chopping steps in hard snow or ice.
• The Pick: this is the toothed, pointed end of the head, slightly curved, and the part that is shoved into the snow or ice during self arrest.
• The Head: comprised of the adze and the the pick.
• The Shaft: shaft length and configuration depend on climbing style, strength, size, and type of climbing. Back in the day, shafts were made of wood; but the one I will be depending on is made of aluminum-alloy; very lightweight-one of our major considerations for our thru-hike.
• The Spike: a steel point at the base of the shaft for balance and safety when the axe is held by it's head as if it were a walking stick. 

How to use a basic Ice Axe:

How to Self-Arrest

• With your side to the slope, you should be grabbing the ice axe with your slope facing hand at the head with the adze facing forward. The thumb is under the adze and your palm and fingers are around the pick. If you slip grab the end of the shaft above the spike with your other hand. 
• The pick should be pressed just above the shoulder, so the adze is near the angle formed by the neck and shoulder. *It's crucial to have a guard over the adze*
• The shaft crosses the chest diagonally and is held close to the hip. *gripping the end of the shaft in this way prevents the hand from acting as a pivot from which the spike can swing around and strike the thigh.*
• Chest and shoulder are pressed strongly down on ice axe shaft. It is the body weight falling on the axe which leads to a successful self-arrest. 
• Head should be facing down, so the shoulders and chest keep the body weight over the adze. 
• The spine should be arched slightly away from the snow. This arch is critical in body weight distribution, which puts most of the weight on the adze head, and the toes; which are the points that dig into the snow and force a stop. Pull up on the end of the shaft to further this weight distribution.
• Some say the knees should be digging into the snow, and if crampons are used, this is true. But in our case, we won't be using crampons, and the possibilities of going over rocks or cutting ice edges, the feet would be better for that contact than the knees. 
• Legs are stiff and spread apart with the toes digging in.  

Because there are various ways of falling down a mountain, it's important to practice the various different scenarios. The four likely scenarios are feet first on stomach, feet first on back, head first on stomach, and head first on back. The immediate objective in all cases is to get your body positioned in the only effective self-arrest position: feet first on stomach. 

Feet first on stomach

This is self-arrest position, so just get the body over the axe shaft and end in final position described previously

Feet first on back

Roll toward the head of the axe and aggressively shove the pick into the snow at your side near your hip as you roll onto your stomach. If axe head is on the right, roll to the right. If left, roll to the left. Careful not to roll to the opposite side as this could shove the spike in the snow and cause loss of control of the axe. 

Head first on stomach

Feet need to be swung downhill. Reach axe downhill and off to the axe head side, (if the head was in your right hand, this would be to the right above the head, and shove the pick into the snow to act as a pivot, to rotate your body so your feet are first downhill. Continue with above described self arrest position.

Head first on back

Hold axe across torso and shove the pick into the snow, then twist and roll toward it, the pick again acts as a pivot. Work your chest toward the axe head, and your feet so they are facing down hill. A sitting position helps this. 

And practice, practice, practice. Self-arrest is a last-ditch effort-few actually have to use it, and the hope/prayer is that you don't. But it is empowering to learn. Safety first, get proper instruction, and go with someone who knows what they are doing. 

We be-Trail Angels

… trail dust is thicker’n blood
~ Louis L’Amou

June 24-June 26, 2010

Leavitt Meadows-Fremont Lake-Cascade Falls-Hidden Lake-Out, Trailhead located about 5 miles east of Sonora Pass in Humboldt-Toyabe National Forest.

Total distance: 27 miles

Jacob and I went into the Pinecrest Ranger Station in Stanislaus National Park without knowing where we wanted to go. Our intention was to get into the Emigrant Wilderness for a couple of nights, and see if it was a possible refuge away from Yosemite. Turns out this place is a quiet oasis, away from the crowds, and walah. You can get away from people in one walking day. Helped that we left during week, missing the weekend crowds.

After getting our permit and a topo, we drove to the trailhead, in Humboldt-Toyabe National Forest, just east of Stanislaus at Leavitt Meadows- which is just off the 108 past Sonora Pass a few miles. Just before the entrance to the trailhead were, none other than a couple of hitchhikers- very very dirty hitchhikers. I saw the beards from about a mile away. I had just been asking Jacob if he thought we'd run into a couple of thru-hikers, and low and behold, there they were. A couple of angels, just waiting to be picked up. There were three of them. The tanned/dirty faces, scraggly beards, and full packs were a clear give-away. I looked at Jacob and was like "They're PCT hikers!!! Stop, we have to talk to them!" With star-studded eyes, and celebrity-awe, I asked them if they were on the trail. "Yeah, we're trying to get into Bridgeport. Can you give us a ride?" Man. I really wanted to. "No, sorry, we're going in here. Would love to if we could." After some brief pleasantries, we went into park. As we started to head toward the trail, Jacob looked at me and said, "you think we should give them the truck into town?" Without hesitation, and with enthusiasm, I said, "Yeah! They could just take it for the night, bring it back, and leave the keys in the back. No problem!" We looked at each other for maybe a second. In that second I think we were both trying to assess how crazy that is to give someone our truck. The second passed. And that was it. They needed to get to town. We were going to be in their shoes in about, well, less than a year. "You wanna just take the truck?" "REALLY? Are you serious?" "yeah, we'll be out for a couple of days, you guys need to get into town. Just bring it back in one piece." "Wow, yeah, you guys are awesome." Doing something nice for other people does make you feel good. I had that lovely butterfly feeling in my stomach. Being a trail angel is neat. I guess this helped me realize how much I miss being apart of a community of people who actually trust each other. Sure you may not always like the people in the community, but there's a network of people who aren't only caught up in themselves. College gave me a built in community-through basketball, through my major.  Peace Corps gave me a very unique community, with an ingrained sense of mutual purpose and direction. It's been hard to find that in a big city upon return. It's been hard for me to get outside of my cocoon. And the fact that I live with someone going through a similar readjustment process makes it less of an incentive to make the effort to connect with people. I used to be much more gregarious. Before living in Africa, I would go out of my way to connect with people, with anyone actually. Upon reentry into the US I've been much more hesitant, and closed. This trail magic has instilled a new-found sense of hope.  It gives me hope in the backpacking world-that trail dust IS thicker than blood. The mountains aren't forgiving, or relenting. But people are.

Jacob and I started our journey into the woods light-footed, ready to enjoy the bliss around us. We went into that Range of Light with full-hearts, knowing we were able to help out a few other travelers on their path. A path we want to be on in about a year. So, here's for being a trail angel. And here's to Beaker, Lakewood, and Mike (I forgot his trail name.)- Thanks for bringing the truck back, thanks for allowing me to enter your community, if for a passing moment. And thanks for the beer. It was delicious!

I really can't wait to be on the trail.

Imaginings

Today I imagined I was on the trail, 11 months in the future. With my pack full, carrying 20 lbs of water. Green spines poking at me, a rattle below my feet-the penetrating rays encumbering, an endless reminder of my one and only objective=walk. I start to feel the balls of my feet. I start to feel that place in between my toes where I've been rubbing the last 230 miles. And I walk. The only voice besides my own I hear is the one that is my life-partner, my best friend. Walking with me. We're 10 days in, 230 miles of a 2700 mile journey. Already crossed the line from one nation to another. And my initial euphoria fades from red to yellow. With green spikes. The water on my back, and the water trapped in the trunk of those green spikes. Politics, gone. Worrying about rent, gone. Stressing over a career, gone. The only certainty, walk into the uncertainty. With my home on my back, and my best friend by my side. And an insatiable hunger.
That's what I imagined today.
Tomorrow I come back to today. And the next day and the next. Until we get on the trail.

Kit's Top Bay Area Day Hike: Skyline to the Sea Trail in reverse.

The most accessible hike from where I'm at right now:  The Skyline to the Sea trail. 

At 34 miles, this popular hike traverses the gorgeous coastal vistas, as seen from the crest of the Santa Cruz Mountains, meandering through old-growth redwood and banana slug inhabited forests that stretches west toward the powerful Pacific Ocean.

Since we didn't have the time for the full 34 mile hike, Jacob and I decided on an easterly bound out and back; by starting at Waddell Beach, a popular kite-surfing destination 18 miles north of Santa Cruz on Highway 1. Across from the beach parking lot we began our hike. We started by weaving through a freshwater marsh that, I imagine, is a welcome refuge for migratory birds. The first few miles follows an old fire road through ranches and fields before we entered into a dense, green, riparian zone consisting of fern, wildflowers and moss; moist, calm, inviting, and peaceful as reflective of the salamander crossings we encountered. I fell into the familiar rhythm that provides the melody for good conversation. Following Waddell Creek,

we walked at a slight incline deeper into the now redwood populated canopy until we reached Berry Creek Falls, an exuberant 70 foot cascade over sandstone bluffs. Jacob and I reached this first bench mark, about 6 miles from the our starting point in the mid-morning with a full day ahead of us. Instead of continuing on the Skyline to the Sea trail, we ran into a biker that told us about a pretty offshoot that went up onto the ridge line to the highest point in the range for a view of the coast. A cold stream crossing awaited us; so we rolled up our pants, took off our shoes and socks and waded into the crisp water. The slick rock below proved to be a bit of a hurdle and took Jacob waist deep into the current. Only the blackberry Jacob carried in his pocket protested the dunk, a reminder of our looming return to civilization.

Dense riparian forest gave way to a hot, dry, and exposed ridge; something I love about California, this representative diversity. Our conversation flowed as we walked, and I relished those blissful moments of freedom; serenity. We found ourselves at the highest point on the ridge, with a vantage point that, to the west, showed us where we had come from, the pacific blue; and to the east, the Santa Cruz Mountains, over which is our current place of residence. The only thing about an out and back that I don't like is retracing your steps. With unchartered territory, it's easier to get into a rhythm, whereas backtracking causes me to become increasingly aware that the time on the trail is coming to an end. So a recommendation to anyone who is going to do this day hike; try to find a way to make it a loop. After 8 hours and 20 miles that characterized this hike with my best friend, I felt peaceful, relaxed, and although reluctant, prepared to go back and face the everyday realities of my current existence.I highly recommend this mild, accessible, and beautiful day hike.

Spring

"Afoot and light hearted I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me, the long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good fortune, I myself am good fortune...” - Walt Whitman

March 1st. In Minnesota February and March represent the dread of winters end. Cold, wet, and dreary, the snow is no longer white-washed, but a weight on the life just starting to wake up below. In Northern California, February and March are beautiful. Flowers are opening, birds are chirping, the sun starts to shine earlier and earlier, and rainy days give way to glorious sunshine, and green blankets cover the soft rolling hills that lead into the Pacific. And I spent a weekend away with this simple, eternal beauty; freely provided by nature.

It's been a few months since my last blog. We successfully made it into a new decade of the 21st century. 

I coached a girls basketball team, went through the ebb and flow of a season with 11 14-year-old girls. 

Jacob and I moved into an 1800's victorian home in San Jose, CA. I hiked into Big Sur, Yosemite, Pointe Reyes National Seashore, and other various places in this part of California.

I wasn't sure what I wanted from a blog when I started this one. 

It might seem strange that I lived for 3 years in East Africa, and only now am I documenting my voice in the ostensible anonymity of the internet. I was just having a conversation about how strange it is that people share so much of themselves in the open-access world we live in. Yet, here I am. Just another of my many contradictions.

Since I've started, I figure I might as well use this space for a purpose.

We all seek meaning in our lives, and wish to tell a story. I've been trying to strike an internal balance since returning to the states, and it's proven to be an arduous task-what with the challenges of reverse-culture shock-the struggles of re-entry into a place I used to recognize as home. 

With a new set of values and a fresh perspective, my frustration has been manifested in an unfair judgement of Americans-I say, I don't remember people being so indifferent and narrow in their scope; I don't remember this lack of depth or foresight in interpersonal, political, or social interactions. 

I don't remember people being so disconnected from the world around them-the Earth they are indebted to. 

I don't remember it being so hard to find a common connection to the people around me; and most importantly, I don't remember feeling so isolated or lonely. 

Lucky for me, I have a friend and comrade to commiserate with. Not all people are so lucky.

Nowhere has this change in me been so apparent as in my rejection of a career. I don't know what I want to "be", by American standards; yet I feel more certain than ever before of who I want to be. I don't know what path I want to take in the workforce, yet I feel very certain of a path I want to take for my own self.

I went home for a week, to the cold Minnesota winter, and visited with my beloved family. Although I think readjustment has been difficult, the time I got to spend with my parents and siblings was a refreshing reinforcement of the unconditional love that I have and feel with family. No matter where I go, or what I do, or vice versa, there is that common history, ancestry, and shared formative years that will keep us together. While having a dialogue with my sister, I was able to see the reflection of the my values in her eyes. "Kit has three things that are important to her-Jacob, the PCT, and fluffy poop."

While not in this order, or quite as literal-especially for the latter of the three, they do reflect the values that I have come to hold dear to my heart.

1.Jacob, of course, is the primary example of the value I have for intra and interpersonal relationships. I do believe that the most important relationship any of us can and ever will have, is the relationship we have with our selves. As individual as Americans are, I still find it interesting that this is the one relationship that tends to be the most neglected, damaging and affecting the ability to form, nurture, and develop relationships with others.

I find that I'm able to put the necessary energy and love into my relationships with the people most important to me when I've fed my soul. When I'm grounded, or balanced, or centered, or however you want to say it; I'm able to empathize, really listen, and love others. And I am grateful to have found a friend and life partner in someone I admire, respect, and want to have the longest conversation of my life with, through marriage. I look forward to when we will recognize our commitment to each other in October with friends and family. And I'll get to call him my husband.

2.The PCT

An intersection and interaction of three countries, three states, and nearly 2700 miles of rock, sand, wind, desert, mountains, and snow-the Pacific Crest Trail is a childhood dream that is now within my grasp. Like the Peace Corps, the PCT represents a desire and drive I have to continuously challenge myself to grow and change and evolve. Together, Jacob and I plan to walk at least 20 miles a day for 4-5 months; a full-time job with the deadline every day as the setting sun, and the long-term objective of walking inexorably north before the snow or our bodies stop us. With our homes on our backs, and nature unrelenting; I want to see the wind, hear the rocks, taste the sky, and smell the mountain streams. I want to push myself past my limits, and challenge myself to force that interconnection between my mind, body and spirit. I want to overcome and work through the heat, blisters, hunger, injuries, and mental and physical fatigue. It's what keeps me going right now, and what I'm looking to. This blog is a journal and documentation of the preparation for the PCT.

3. The final value my sister so explicitly stated, was fluffy poop. And before anybody can say how disgusting that is, please let me explain. Being a vegan does change the consistency, density, and form of bodily waste. Now I don't necessarily value that change, but I do value the implicit values in a vegan lifestyle. I eat with intention, I think about what is going in to my body, and what repercussions my eating has on the larger living community. It's, as I mentioned before, a pillar in my life.

So, this was another dialogue into that open internet abyss. Hope someone could take something from it.

Until next time, I'm out.