#122 Laural Creek Shelter to Niday Shelter - Day 56: ATMM 675.2 to ATMM 687.8
a chiropractor, an engineer, and a pharmacist walk into a wilderness…..
4/26/22
I’m notorious for late starts on the first few mornings of a section. Mostly it’s because it takes a few days to remaster the rhythm of breaking camp and loading the backpack properly.
There’s an art to loading a pack. Weight distribution is important for both comfort and balance.
Hikers also have to consider the items they might need from their pack throughout the day like food, extra clothing, food, medical supplies, food, or rain gear. We want to have those things readily available so we aren’t tossing half our gear on the ground to get to the snack bag.
I have learned to store my day’s snacks inside my camp shoes, which are strapped down on top of my backpack. Beneath them lies my foam sitting pad, which also comes in handy at break time.
Everything has to be organized before being loaded.
While my water is heating up on the camp stove I usually begin disassembling my tent and stuff it into its three gallon Ziploc storage bag, then push it to the bottom of my pack.
Next I stuff my sleeping bag, sleeping pad, and pillow together into another three gallon Ziploc storage bag, then push that bag into the backpack on top of the tent.
After breakfast my food bag goes in horizontally on top of the other two bags, minus the day’s snacks, which are stuffed into my camp shoes - in packaging of course. I can see your “eww” faces as you think about food exposed to the inside of nasty camp shoes.
Clothing is stuffed into empty spaces around the food bag.
My hygiene kit, emergency/medical kit, and inside tent kit, each have their own one gallon Ziploc bag, all go on the top level inside my pack for easy access.
Rain gear, plastic ground cloth for shelters, pack cover, and water filters all go in the large pouch on the back side of my pack.
After a few days the ritual becomes more rhythmic. It also takes a few days to get in rhythm with the sun - sleeping earlier and rising earlier.
But a 9:00 a.m. start is just about right for the first few days.
The cool morning air soon gives way to warm air and a hot sun as the morning progresses. I make my way down the mountain and pass through one cow pasture.
Clouds quickly build while climbing to the ridgeline of the next mountain. Things change rapidly on top.
Early into the five mile long ridge the wind begins blowing hard, the temperature drops dramatically, a slight drizzle sets in, but not for long. Well, not on me anyway. I can see heavy storms on the mountains to my left. The valley on my right side is a total white-out. Heavy rain falls in front of me and behind me, but I am moving in some kind of small bubble of dryness where I’m only receiving a light wind-driven mist.
Soon the ridge becomes a forty-five degree sideways angled slippery boulder hop that requires focus and deliberate foot placement in order to maintain grip. Falls and twisted ankles are a real threat. Either would be disastrous up here.
The whole vibe excites me. The wind, the cold, the mist, danger on the rocks, all of it fills me with excitement. I feel light and free, like a kid with no cares romping around his favorite playground.