The triple 14ers

14ers day 3 of 3: (Read Day 1, Day 2)
We saved the "combo" for Wednesday. Originally scheduled for Tuesday, we thought Quandary would be an easier (though longer) recovery hike after our hard first day, because of its Class 1 difficulty rating on 14ers.com. Ha, were we (or 14ers.com) wrong, wrong, wrong! Quandary was much harder than we thought it would be. We met hikers who thought we were pretty insane for doing back-to-back 14ers... then we told them we were doing three days in a row... and then we told them we came from 400' elevation in NC and NJ!

The view north, from the saddle between Mt. Democrat and Mt. Cameron, after a climb of about 1,450' from
the trail head. We took the trail to the right to ascend Mt. Cameron, another 750' up.

When we arrived at Kite Lake, we judged the hike to Mt. Democrat to be too hard for us to do and still summit multiple peaks (I know, wimps, right?). Instead, we decided to climb Mt. Cameron (14,239') and Mt. Lincoln (14,286'). Unlike the 750' descent/climb between Mt. Democrat and Mt. Cameron, the saddle between Mt. Cameron and Mt. Lincoln is only about 200'. This climb had a much gentler profile than the first two days, although it certainly had some steep parts. Wednesday also brought us the best weather of the three, although all three days gave us great hiking weather and no rain.

Your humble author at the peak of Mt. Cameron, with Mt. Lincoln in the background.

Like Mt. Sherman, the peak of Cameron was constantly hidden from is as we went up the ridge, turning and climbing. However, from Mt. Cameron, the view of Mt. Lincoln is great - although the short peak to the 11th highest peak in the continental US was the steepest climb of our entire three days, really a scramble up on hands and feet. Tomas and Tiffany then took the trail past Mt. Bross (the Bross summit was closed) and I returned across Mt. Cameron (my third 14er of the day!) and hiked down with Matt. I'm glad I did, because the descent from Mt. Bross was very steep and I did not want to risk knee or foot problems. (Tomas said the Bross descent was so hard—he had to back down at some points, holding onto rocks because the fine gravel was so slick—that it made one woman cry.

Tomas and Tiffany head for the final ascent to the peak of Mt. Lincoln, 14,286'. The snow visible in the previous picture (which showed Mt Lincoln in the background) is just to the right of this section of the trail.
You can also make out three other hikers on the summit.

Most of the mountains we hiked were on private land, but the owners allow hikers on the trails (although Mt. Bross was closed this week.) The trails are maintained by Colorado Fourteeners Initiative volunteers.

The 14ers.com site was a great asset in planning our hikes and ensuring our safety.

Day 3 synopsis: Hike distance: 5.9 miles; elapsed time: 5:36; elevation gain: 2,600'; average grade: 16.4%; GPS track. Lessons learned: Regular breaks helps a lot; Teamwork gets the job done on the mountain.

Tomas' bling from Breckenridge

14ers synopsis:

Mountain	Hiking distance	Total time	Elevation gain	Average grade
Sherman	4.70 mi	5:30	2,100'	17.2%
Quandary Peak	7.25 mi	6:50	3,500'	18.6%
Cameron/Lincoln	5.90 mi	5:36	2,600'	16.9%
Totals	17.85 mi	17:56	8,200'	17.7%

Lessons learned: Training pays off; at altitude it is forgivable to ask "Pass me my halogen" when you really mean "Pass me my Nalgene"; it really helps to go with friends who can encourage and inspire you.
I am so fortunate to have had this opportunity to go out to Colorado and really push myself, build my strength, endurance, and confidence. Nepal/Everest Base Camp - I'm coming for you next! We leave in three months.

“Thousands of tired, nerve shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity; and that mountain parks are fountains of life.”
—John Muir

Quandary Peak

14ers Day 2: (Read Day 1 of our 14ers trek, if you missed it.)

I took the luxury of sleeping in until 5:45 Tuesday morning because we were going to tackle Quandary Peak in the Tenmile Ridge, just south of Breckenridge. At 14,265', it is the 16^th highest peak in the continental U.S. The trail head is much easier to get to... at the cost of being much lower: 10,800', which meant a climb of about 3,500 feet over 3.6 miles, and a round-trip hike of 7.25 miles. We allotted 7 hours for the hike. The lower half was beautiful, coming up through the forest, past wildflower glades and spectacular scenery. Quandary Peak lived up to my expectation for these mountain hikes - the nature of this mountain and surrounding vistas was very different from Mt. Sherman.

View of North Star Mountain (the Western Continental Divide)
from the East Ridge Trail of Quandary Peak. That is Tomas in his orange backpack.
Note the spectacular, deep, blue sky.

Just out of the treeline (near 12,000'), there is a steep grade, consisting of steps made out of stones set in the hill. Just past these steps, we met a large group of young girls (Girl Scouts, we presumed) who were descending. They started their ascent at 2:00AM!
After this, we turned up the ridge, heading west toward the now visible peak, one a half miles ahead and still 2,300 feet higher. You can see the line of hikers stretched out ahead, just starting to tackle the toughest, final leg of the climb.

Quandary Peak rises up above us.  (Challenge: spot Tomas and his orange backpack amongst the climbers at center left.) The climb in the distance is about 1,000' climb in about 6/10 mile - about a 31% grade.

Tomas kept walking while we took a break to drop some layers now that we were in the sun. While I was trudging up that steep slope, a female trail runner zoomed past me. That level of fitness is pretty humbling. I rationalized it by telling myself, "She's not carrying a 25 pound pack... or 25 extra years" Yeah, right.

A mountain goat ignores the hikers on the Quandary Peak trail

I kept on moving on and up. I found a good, steady pace for the toughest part of the ascent, stopping to take pictures every once in a while. (I carried my Canon 40D DSLR and a Tamron 10-24mm wide angle lens in a camera case attached to the front straps of my backpack.)
I reached the crowded summit shortly after Tomas, after four hours of hiking. It was pretty cold and windy up top, but it was worth it—the view from the summit was simply spectacular.

The view from atop Quandary Peak. Nothing higher than us anywhere close by.

The 2-½ hour trek down was long and pretty hard on my old knees; my leg muscles were shaking when I had to step down. Happily, I didn't need any Vitamin I (Ibuprofen) on this or any other day of hiking.

Tomas and your humble author at the summit of Quandary Peak.
I can easily say that Quandary Peak was my favorite hike of our three days.

The U.S. Coast & Geodedit Survey marker at the top of Quandary Peak

Day 2 synopsis: Hike distance: 7.25 miles; elapsed time: 6:50; elevation gain: 3,500'; average grade: 18.6%. GPS track. Lessons learned: Moleskin is an essential piece of gear; there is always someone who is stronger/faster and I'm OK with that; when rating trails, "moderate" in Colorado does not mean the same as "moderate" in North Carolina.

14ers

No, 14ers is not the saga of some young teen skater boys. 14ers is the name given to mountain summits that surpass a height of 14,000 feet. (For my metric-fluent friends, that's 4267.2ers.)
14ers was my challenge this week as I sojourned to Breckenridge, Colorado with three friends, Tomas, Matt, and Tiffany. We all share a common goal, to trek to Everest Base Camp in November of this year. We came to Colorado to try not to fall off a mountain while getting in some altitude training.
We came home with much more than that.
We arrived on Denver on Sunday, hopped in a rented 4WD Dodge Journey (trading up from the Ford Fusion they had given Matt when he reserved a car) and drove two hours to Breckenridge, where we moved into a townhome we rented for four days from a friend of Tomas. Sunday evening, we planned our next day's hike to Mt, Sherman. We planned on a 6 hour hike - 4 hours up, 2 down.

Mt. Sherman is part of a large
but abandoned mining area

Day 1: Mt. Sherman is a 14,036' peak in the Mosquito Range, 10 miles east of Fairplay, CO. We got up at 5:15 and left shortly after 6:00. Just south of Fairplay, we turned up up a dirt road and drove about 10 miles, past an abandoned mining building, then parked near the end of the road at 12,000'. We put on our packs and started hiking! The mining road continues into the old complex. We hiked abut a half hour on a steep, steady incline, and I was getting very tied and out of breath. Welcome to altitude!
I was not sure if I could handle four hours of this kind of exertion. We stopped for a water break and some rest, after which I felt much, much better. On the east face of the ridge, there is a huge rock fall and we followed another hiker a few hundred yards up the steeply angled path across the shifting boulders on this death trap (well, bodily-injury trap). I put away my hiking poles so I could balance better by putting my hands down on the boulders.

Tomas going up the Mt. Sherman ridge

There were several other very steep sections. Mt. Sherman slowly reveals itself to the hiker. The trail is mostly up a ridge line, with very few switchbacks, so it's mostly steep climbing. The fog and the ridge line constantly hid the summit, so the climb became a set of small, independent challenges to be met.
We reached the top to find white-out conditions, but the fog parted somewhat to reveal the vistas. It was quite gusty at the top. Previous hikders had stacked up several wind breaks made out of small boulders. We made our way to one, and as we started taking off our packs, another hiker came over to inform is that this was not a windbreak, it was the summit bathroom. We moved on to another windbreak and spent about a half our at the summit.
Mt. Sherman really contradicted many of my pre-conceived notions of a mountain. The landscape was bleak; the mountain (and those around it) so much more, well, crumbly than I expected. They looked like the Creator just poured rocks and boulders into teetering mounds; the terrain felt more lunar than earthly.

Tiffany, Matt and Tomas behind me on
the tricky rock fall descent.

Our descent was pretty difficult, especially when we got back to the rock fall, which was extremely tricky. Luckily, rocks were the only thing tumbling downhill here. Tomas also felt very ill on the second half of the descent, probably the effects of the altitude. I was amazed that he pushed on and finished. He told us his condition, but never complained. We later found out that we had missed a turn on the ascent, and that the real trail completely bypasses that rock fall.
On the drive home, we stopped at Hoosier Pass, where Route 9 crosses the Western Continental Divide.

Day 1 synopsis: distance: 4.7 miles; ascent: 2,100 feet; total hike time: 5:30; average grade: 17.2%; GPS track. Lessons learned: I feel stronger after getting warmed up and in the groove of climbing, I can find a pace that works for me, I could do much more than I thought I could... and we need to read our maps more carefully.

Mt Mt Mt Mt Mt Mt Mitchell

Ma Ma Max Max Max Headroom

The image of Max Headroom (well, to be more correct, the voice of Max Headroom) came to mind as I looked at the map of our Black Mountains training hike route. All laid out, north to south:

Mountain: Potato Hill, 6,475 ft
Mountain: Balsam Cone, 6,611 ft
Mountain: Cattail Peak, 6,583 ft
Mountain: Big Tom, 6,581 ft
Mountain: Mt Craig, 6,647 ft
Mountain: Mt Mitchell, 6,684 ft

Yup, all those mountain peaks lined up: Mt Mt Mt Mt Mt Mt Mitchell. (Now say it like Max Headroom would...)

Then I looked at the topo map and see our starting point at 2,750 ft at the trailhead of the Colbert Ridge Trail.... then the 6,684 ft elevation of Mt. Mitchell, the highest point east of the Mississippi. That's a 4,000 foot net elevation change from start to end, but with the gaps and saddles between the peaks, we had a total vertical ascent of about a mile ahead of us. Awesome!

Even if it is 10,000 feet below where I will be in six months, this would be some great training for my Everest Base Camp trek in November! The Colbert Ridge Trail and the Deep Gap Trail (aka Black Mountain Crest Trail) are much steeper and on much more technical ground. We had to climb under and over logs, and at times use ropes to ascend a steep rocky incline.

Vista from the Colbert Ridge Trail,
the best view we'd get on an
overcast (low cloud cover) April day. 

David M. and Ashton planned the route and we were joined by Omar, Tomas, Amy, Janice (and Janice's dog, Nikki) for the April 27th hike. We arrived Friday at Carolina Hemlocks Campground, a very nice spot on the South Toe River, just west of the Blue Ridge Parkway near Burnsville, NC. We planned to get up and leave by 7:30... and managed to start walking by 8:00. We had a 3/4 mile walk to the trailhead. Then it was up, up, up.
No switchbacks here - just straight up the ridge. I was wearing my heart rate monitor, and for most of the climbing stretches, my rate was 145 to 150, reaching 165 on some of the really steep pitches. It took us 3 hours of climbing to reach the end of the Colbert Ridge Trail where it meets the Black Mountain Crest Trail at the bottom of Deep Gap, elevation 5,800 ft. We had a another climb of 700 ft. to get to our first peak, Potato Hill. The section of the Black Mountain Crest Trail we hiked crosses five peaks, each around 6,600 ft until we got to Mt. Mitchell.

Trails of the Black Mountains.
The Colbert Ridge Trail is trail #178 near the center. The Black Mountain Crest Trail is trail #179.
North is roughly to the right along the line of the crest trail.

We got lucky with the weather - predictions were for rain on Saturday. It was fairly dry for most of the climb in the morning. We had one clear view while on the Colbert Ridge Trail; once we got higher, we were above the clouds and it was whiteout conditions (same as every other time I've been to Mt. Mitchell...) When we reached the crest trail, some light rain was starting, but there was no wind at all. It was amazingly quiet and quite lush - a beautiful trail to be hiking in April.

We got to Mt. Mitchell around 3:00PM and it was raining more heavily. One of our party had had severe cramps for most the the crest trail hike, so it would a true

I meet Big Tom (peak 4 of 6)

hardship to do the remaining nine miles back to the campsite (or to leave him there while we hiked back and brought a car back.) There were few visitors at the peak (a brother and sister from Michigan and San Francisco who met to climb Mt. Mitchell because their last name was Mitchell!) and no one to catch a ride with. We called our wonderful camp hosts at the campground, and Jerry offered to bring a van to pick us up. The park ranger kindly opened up the museum so we could wait inside for the 45 minutes it would take Jerry to reach us by road. We had a nice, warm, dry ride back to camp. Luckily, we had covered our firewood with a tarp and David M. had no trouble getting a nice fire going.

This was a great weekend for me. The hike was fabulous- challenging and draining, but also extremely rewarding. My knees and ankles survived without any pain or injury; my gear served me well and kept me warm and dry and comfortable. I'm used to the extra weight and bulk of a full backpack. Those Mt Mt Mt Mt Mt Mt peaks were knocked down one by one, and the companionship of a great set of outdoor-loving folks and kindness of new acquaintances was ice ice ice icing on the c-c-c-c-cake.

Do you know where your pants are?

The scene: a Friday evening, earlier this month. I brought my hiking gear to work - boots, poles, backpack, some protein bars, water, and Gatorade, hiking pants, and a couple layers for the chill. I changed clothes at the SAS gym after work, then drove to Umstead State Park and started my hike on the Loblolly trail. This was just before all the trees budded out, so there was no pine pollen in the air. Lovely!

Umstead State Park, along the Loblolly Trail, in Spring, 2013.
Photo by yours truly.

The story: I was doing about 6 or 7 miles that night, on an out and back route. I started around 5:40 so that I'd finish before dark. I had come back about a mile after the turn, and stopped for a drink and to enjoy the hidden lake on the trail (see photo, right). I checked my phone, and there was a missed call from home at 6:45.  I called, and Debbie answered. I said "Hi! I see you called me." She replied, "Do you know where your pants are?" Hmm, that was not the phone conversation I was expecting deep in the woods on a Friday evening.

And yes, defying all reason, and knowing perfectly well I was wearing pants, I looked down. Wouldn't you?

Of course, when I had changed into my hiking pants at the SAS gym, I put my jeans down on a counter top to fill my water bag in my backpack. I then left my jeans there instead of taking them back to my car. The folks at the gym found them while making rounds before closing, found my wallet inside, and called home.

The gym closed at 7:00. It was now 6:55, and it was at least a 45-minute hike back to my car. I had to go in Monday morning to pick up my pants and wallet. My friend Patrick remarked that if you were to leave your pants and wallet anywhere, the SAS gym is probably the best place to do it.

It's all part of the journey, and all part of being 50, I guess. Mistakes are there so we can learn from them, right? A few things may slip my mind, but there are perks—now that I'm 50, I can put $6,500 into my IRA instead of the $5,500 that my young and beautiful wife is allowed.

The moral: Keep your pants close, and your friends and loved ones closer.

Dry, humerus

I was planning a long hike in Umstead park after work on Monday. I planned to stuff my new Patagonia Torrentshell hard shell top and rain pants in my backpack, since there was a chance of premature April showers. On Sunday, we woke to rain. Not a terribly hard rain, not even a rudely hard rain, just one of those steady, wet, all-day-long Sunday rains. Debbie suggested I go take a walk in the rain; I guess a shower in the neighborhood is worth two in the woods. So I put my rain gear on over my humerus and other bones and walked the hills in the neighborhood to field test street test my rain gear. Did the gear keep my bones and other body parts dry...?

Bzzzt, nope.

The Torrentshell jacket kept each humerus dry (at least in a light rain), but for some reason the Torrentshell pants really let down my tibiae and fibulae. The pants cinch tight at the bottom via Velcro, and I didn't kick up too many puddles (really!), but by the end of the four mile walk, my legs were pretty damp below my knees. Damp is OK on a 43 degree day on a one hour hike in NC; damp is definitely not OK one hour into a six hour trek in Nepal at 16,000 feet. November is supposed to be the dry season in Nepal, but one must be prepared, mustn't one? Yes, even if one is not a Boy Scout, one must be prepared. So the pants went back to Altrec (they were gracious enough to pay return shipping) and I'm considering the REI Rainwall or Marmot PreCip rain pants at REI as a replacement pair.

Here is a rundown of some of my other gear that will (I hope!) keep me warm and/or dry in Nepal: Columbia Titanium and Tek Gear (Kohl's!) convertible quick dry pants; Marmot Ridgecrest insulated pants, REI fleece jacket; Mountain Hardware vest; Northface jacket; Smartwool base layer; thin and thick tights (repurposed from my running/cycling gear); synthetic quick dry boxer briefs, windbreaker with zip-off sleeves; numerous quick-dry shirts (short and long sleeve); Marmot puffy down coat with hood; Burton Gore-Tek mittens with liners; lightweight fleece gloves; REI heavy smart wool hiking socks; smart wool thin boot liners; Asolo Drifter GV boots and Outdoor Research Verglas gaiters. For trekking, I also have an Osprey Talon 33 daypack (Meteorite) and 3 liter hydration bladder; and Black Diamond Distance trekking poles which are super light and foldable. And for the nights, I have a Marmot Sawtooth 14 degree down sleeping bag and a Petzl Zipka 2 Headlamp (Quite a bit of this gear I bought from Tomas' extra gear; more of it came on clearance from REI.com, Altrec.com or Backcountry.com or www.SteepAndCheap.com.)

Probably my most important gear also happens to be the two most thoughtful gifts I've ever received: is my Road Id (thanks, fam!) and my St. Joseph prayer card (thanks Dad!)

Oh, and I did get in that Monday evening hike. It was dry like I hope Nepal will be, and I got in 9 miles of ups and downs (much more so than at the beach) along the Company Mill Trail, Sycamore Trail, and Crabtree Creek Trails in Umstead, in just over three hours.

Some real elevation changes on my Monday hike

Today's long list of trek gear forced the dry humerus content to reduce my usual dry humorous quota. In the future (if my tibiae and fibulae stay dry) I'll strive to restore my target high dry humer to dry content ratio, so stay tuned as djb treks to Everest Base Camp.

The Lightweight

Welcome back, all my loyal followers. I must say, I have a very elite set of readers; you are literally one in 330,000,000. So don't spread this blog around; it will diminish your special status. You think folks feel special being just one in the 1,300,000 strong crowd of the Colbert Nation?

Today, I'm going to share what I'm doing to prepare for the physical challenges of letting a yak carry my duffle up to Everest Base Camp.

This is not me.

As I've already bragged, I have a decent  level of cardiovascular fitness... just enough to make me think I could do this trek without any artificial aids like a stretcher. But my current fitness is not really enough to take on an Wild and Extreme Endurance Event of hiking up to 18,500 feet (metric equivalent: 63.70 jillometres) in  minus 10 degrees Farenheit (metric equivalent: freeze your nads off cold). For that, some folks simulate high elevation low oxygen by wearing a training mask that basically forces you to breath through a straw. Um, I'm not gonna do that even if I can rock a maple leaf. I knew I needed to round out my fitness, if for no other reason than to give you, my many fellow advernturers, the hilarious mental image of a skinny-armed pale guy trying to do free weights.

Thus, I made an appointment with a personal trainer at the Recreation and Fitness Center at work. Cheryl W. in the SAS personal trainer pool was lucky enough to pull my name. I met with Cheryl for an hour, where we went over my fitness goals - not just EBC, but doing two or three hilly century rides this year, culminating with a double century again at Bike MS in September. At our second meeting, Cheryl showed me some core-building, balance, and general strengthening exercises to add to my current monotonous routine. And yes, these new exercises do involve free weights!

• Start with the big red exercise ball, sort of what you'd use to play fetch with Clifford The Big Red Dog. Sit on the ball, then roll forward until, facing up, your shoulders and neck are on the ball. Make a flat platform with your body, with knees bent 90 degrees and feet on the floot. Using dumbells, press 20 times slowly. Use a weight that is enough that you can just barely finish 20 reps. I won't say what my weight is; use your imagination for best humorous effect. I look at the guy on the bench next to me with 70 lb weights in each beefy arm and I tell myself, "yah, but can he do that on an exercise ball?"
• Next, lay face down with the ball under your hips/abdomen. Lift dumbells, one arm at a time, bringing them to your pits, then slowly return them to the floor. Do 20 reps with each arm. (Again, insert ridiculously light weight here.)
• Last ball exercise: return to the platform position. Starting with weights extended straight up, slowly lower the weights over your face and down on either side of your head, then return, straightening the arms and keeping elbows close together. This is a tricept press. Like the others, doing this while balancing on the ball helps build your core, especially if you position your feet closer together.
• Four, using an exercise step or other platform, and holding weights in each wimpy arm, step up with one foot and bring the opposite knee up to waist height hold briefly (or boxerly, if you lean that way), then return it to the floor. Repeat 20 times on the right leg, then 20 on left.
• E, hold weights in each arm, held low at your sides. With straight arms, raise the weights out to the sides slowly to shoulder height, hold briefly, then slowly lower. Repeat 17 times. (No, I'm kidding, it's 20). Oh, and while you're doing this, stand only on one foot for 10 reps, the other foot for the last 10.
• F is similar, but doing curls while balancing on one foot; 20 curls each arm. As before, choose a weight such that you can barely finish the 20 reps. For some inscrutable reason, this one is called the One Leg Arm Curl.
• Exercise 7 (Bridge): lay on your back on a mat on the floor, with knees bent, feet flat. Then lift abdomen up, straightening your back (or abdomen, I'm adaptable), while pressing arms firmly into the floor (which does not bend no matter how hard you press). Repeat the magic number of times.
• Final exercise is the Plank. I hold this and count 20 slow breaths, which takes about 80 seconds, then repeat. Try to ignore the shaking.

Stairmaster Step Mill

I've been doing these for a couple weeks now, and I'm actually pretty happy with the workout. My balance is noticeably improved; I hardly ever fall over anymore.

In addition to these core-building exercises, I'm adding intervals to my cardio workouts. So instead of just spinning for an hour at a constant rate while I read a book (latest: A Memory of Light, a bicep builder disguised as an 800+ page hardback), I'm doing other exercises. On Wednesday, I did 30 minutes on the "real" stair machine, basically a self-contained mini escalator in the gym, minus the elf. My 7 intervals consisted of 2 minutes at 99 steps per minute and 2 minutes "rest" at 64 steps per minute.  This simulates some pretty serious climbing (150+ flights of 15 steps each).

Although I really went nowhere, I think I'm getting somewhere, getting fit, finding what fits, and having fun while doing it. And that's the point, right? "Dave's journey from here to there." I hope you'll continue the journey with me.

The work out

Sometimes, things just work out.

We planned a twelve mile training hike at Raven Rock State Park for 10:00 AM on Saturday, February 16. The weather was predicted to be in the 40's with a chance of that wintery stuff later in the afternoon. As I drove to Tomas' house to ride together, it was already raining, though lightly. It then rained all the way through Lillington. It rained while we waited for Amy and David and Catherine to arrive. It rained while we prepped our backpacks. And it rained as we started our trek on the Campbell Creek Loop Trail.

But after a few minutes, the rain gradually changed over to snow. By the time we reached Lanier Falls, it was a beautiful snow. With really huge flakes. It was hard to not just stare up between the pines and watch it fall.

We continued our trek, stopped for lunch, but the snow did not stop for lunch. We continued our trek, and the snow continued. We hiked out the Raven Rock Loop trail to the top of the bluff, with an overlook over the Cape Fear River, then out to Raven Rock. And the snow continued.

Then the snow turned back to rain and our spirits dampened along with our hats. We continued out the Little Creek Loop trail. After turning the corner, the rain turned back into snow, although the flakes were no longer mutant-sized.

We finished our hike and marveled at the beauty. We ended up getting a training hike that simulated the conditions we might find on the Everest Base Camp trek. I found out I need better (waterprooof) protection. Plusses all around.

Sometimes, things just work out.

These boots are made for...

As I noted in my first post, I don't have the gear I'll need for this trek. So the first thing I did was start shopping around for boots, as that will be (I'm told) the most important piece of gear for this type of trek. Mel at Tusker Trail was helpful in giving me guidelines on what I'd need: definitely waterproof and medium weight to support carrying a 20 to 30 lb backpack. She said I would not need full leather boots; they would probably be too heavy.

I went to REI a few times, trying on different boots and talking to the folks there (who at least appeared pretty knowledgeable). I also looked at their online reviews, and online reviews on L.L. Bean and other sources.

The boots meet the beach.

I ended up getting the Gore-Tex Asolo Drifters from REI, and three pair of REI Merina wool trekking socks. I wore the Drifters to work for a few days to see how the fit was, and they seemed fine. With no opportunity to do some real trail hiking—I was going to be in Wilmington NC Saturday and Sunday so Val could attend  a UNCW soccer camp—I decided to do a real break-in test as opposite from Everest Base Camp as I could get: Wrightsville Beach, NC. After getting Val to camp on a cold Saturday morning, I was on the beach about 9:40. I started at Johnny Mercer pier, headed around the south tip of the island near the inlet, then backtracked north against the wind and a couple miles past the pier and back - 9 miles in total.

I had Wrightsville Beach pretty much to myself on a 25 degree breezy morning.

I really like these boots. The reviews all said they did not need a break-in, and I think it's true. I finished with no blisters, no sore spots, no discomfort at all!

When I said “opposite of Everest Base Camp”, I meant it. Here is my Runkeeper elevation map of my nine mile hike that day:

Most of my time was spent at 0 feet above sea level,
with occasional excursions into that treacherous 3-to-4 foot elevation.

My next training hikes will (I hope) be on trails such as Umstead Park near Raleigh. But I know I've got a good pair of boots to get my through it. I think I'm off to a good start, even if it is “all uphill” from here!