hobolinks :: May :: 2007

More poetry from White Crow as he emerges from the lonely Wyoming plains to find some Wyoming hospitality and companionship.

Good things move away fast; fantastic things are a breath, a gust of wind we try to hold in our mouths, minds determined to never breathe again for fear of the loss of it…and then it is gone. The breath is exhaled and for lack of anything else to do, we sigh. Eventually, if we are lucky, and if we are easy in this life, we smile, turn, adjust our hats, and step toward the next breath, hoping.

This is making the rounds for good reason:

Nocona’s newly started journal is quite promising (and includes quotes from other writers as inspirational as her own):

In my heart, I’ve wanted to cross the Rockies, just like Bridger or Coulter, since I was able to think. It’s something I’ve known, inside of me, and no matter how distracted I have become along the way, my internal compass always swings me back around to this. Traveling on foot through the Rockies is where I should be, where I belong.

Bethany on the privilege of hiking:

thruhiking is a privileged way of life. some days feel more so than others, but every day hiking is one that i’m not working, one where i can carry everything i need to live comfortably. i walk through beautiful places. and i meet beautiful people.

And Shaggy on the Pizza Hut buffet:

We made the pizza hut buffet. It wasnt so good as we hoped, but we got full.

What is it with Pizza Hut that even a starving hiker is disappointed? I made the mistake of visiting the Pizza Hut buffet in Gunnison after 8 days on the trail, and succeeded only in making myself so sick I was doubled over for two hours afterward…

The new Google feature for driving directions might be good for bike tour routes, keeping you off big highways. Shoulder width is probably not considered, I’m guessing.

So announced the World Conservation Union today. The assessment doesn’t seem to include a time frame, or claim that any mammals have yet gone extinct.

An Indonesian fisherman hooked this odd fish, which seems to turn up every few decades to quell rumors of its extinction. This specimen later died, so the species may now be extinct again.

Ferrets are great fun to watch. This 5-minute piece on the Black-footed Ferret recovery effort in Colorado, which is now releasing hundreds of ferrets into the wild. Not too much depth, but presents some reasons why the ferrets nearly went extinct, and why they might survive the second time around. No information about how much it costs to recover a species in captivity over decades like this.

(Via The Extinction Blog)

The GOP knows how to squeeze money out of liberal hikers: throw a cowboy breakfast on the CDT. From Haiku:

We all ended up back at Doc Campbell’s to use the phone, and then we saw that there was a “cowboy breakfast” being put on across the road. It was sponsored by the New Mexico Republican Party, but food’s food so we all went over and ate under the giant GOP elephant banner. Those cowboys know how to cook: bacon, biscuits and gravy, baked beans, hash browns, and eggs, all kept warm over a fire. Fire-brewed coffee, too. Delicious.

“Hot and dry” New Mexico is treating this year’s northbounders to some water. Bethany has joined up with Shaggy & Haiku’s crew for the soaking:

then, about 130p, the daily thunderstorms blew in, including some pea-sized hail for good measure. it rained for a few hours and just as it was letting up our route left the gravel road for a minor forest track. and in about 10 steps, each shoe was caked with 3 inches of very heavy mud. it was comical at first, but quickly lost its novelty and just became exhausting. we slogged up the road for an hour and a half to make litle more than 3 miles before giving up early for the day. in order to reap the benefits of group travel, you have to keep the group together, which meant stopping early today.

The whole while, visions of Pie Town dance in their heads:

Star thinks she can eat a whole pie in Pie Town. I am saying that I can eat 1.75 pies in Pie town. The rules are that it has to be in one sitting, we have to pay for the other persons pie(s), if we fail. If we both forfeit, the person with the most of their portion left, loses. So its going to be on in 4 days. I hope Star knows who she is messing with… May god be with her.

And of course the real joys of reading New Mexico trail journals are the horrifying descriptions of the drinking water:

We got down into a valley, which was near where we could look for water, so some of us took the water bottles for the rest and headed toward the water, which was labeled “G C Tank No. 2″ on the map. A “tank” as we’ve learned means an earth embankment built up to contain a seep or a spring into a small pond, so that cattle can drink from them. This was some scummy water. When Shaggy dipped his water bottle in, it came up with a leech attached to it. There were sea monkeys swimming in our water bottles. I’m not joking. I was really glad I had my filter, but the others were treating with chemicals, so they had some sour faces when they saw the water.

Scientists have recommended capturing half or all of British Columbia’s (fewer than two dozen) remaining Spotted Owls to prevent their extinction, but only if there is a corresponding commitment to protect some habitat for their eventual release. Without that, they will likely be extinct in the wild regardless.

The antarctic studies underway have yielded hundreds of species so far, with some pictures.

White Crow has just finished some tough hiking from Vernal, Utah to Rock Springs, WY:

Never have I arrived in a town while being this filthy (the promised rivers were not), this depleted of food, water, and self. My pants are oil cloth I can fingernail a cloud into. My face is sandpaper adhered by the sharp bite of salt I replace on my tongue with sea salt from a vial I keep in my pouch on my waist, along with a stick of grease for my shattered lips, a gratitude stone that is half a flint spear point, and several beads I can’t send away.

Watch these videos of Tommy Caldwell free climbing El Cap twice in a day.

If you want a really fun spring break adventure, sample the hobo lifestyle:

Bethany is the first CDT hiker I’ve followed who is starting at the remote “official” southern terminus of the trail. And she is not catching a jeep ride there as we did, but bushwhacking 28 miles to reach it, then turning around. Guts. She says:

trail days are big, full days. i forgot just how much can happen on a day when you’re just walking… in city life, you ask me what i did with my day and i’m likely to respond, “i don’t know… nothing”. that doesn’t happen very often on the trail.

By day 5 she’s in the groove, or something:

here’s some excerpts from the voices in my head today:

“is it too soon to be talking to myself out loud?”

“ooh, a fenceline. that’s exciting” sadly, there was no sarcasm involved here.

“old mcdonald had a farm, e-i-e-i-o…L” not kidding here either

“oh look, are those… woah, that’s 2 javelina pigs!”

Meanwhile, a ways north, hikers are fanned out all over the maze of dirt roads near the divide in southern New Mexico. From Haiku:

This road soon led to what looked like a large mining camp, with six bunkhouses, and a few store-looking buildings. No one was around. As we walked through we heard someone call out to us, and a toothless man emerged from one of the buildings. He introduced himself as Buster, and told us we were at the Royal John Mine. He said it was no longer in operation, but was very elusive as to what the property was used for now. He did offer us each a Coke, and talked for a while – I’d imagine he doesn’t see many outsiders. He told us that if we followed the dirt road for 11 miles we’d come to the highway to Mimbres.

Apteryx encounters the private land dilemma on his first day northbound:

Unfortunately at the point I was going to get off the road there was a locked gate and a sign
NO HUNTING – NO TRESSPASSING
Access by special written permission only
Violaters will be prosecuted under section 30-14-L1
and 30-14-3 New Mexico statutes annotated 1991
HURT CATTLE CO – DEMING, NM
If that was supposed to intimidate me it did the job. As I am seeking US residency with the process at the FBI check stage I didn’t think it a good idea to maybe get arrested. I’d heard enough stories about the ranchers in southern New Mexico.

This won’t be last time he encounters signs like that in New Mexico. I don’t know what he’s heard about the ranchers, but all the ranchers we met were exceedingly kind and generous. Most said, “Oh, those signs aren’t meant for you [hikers].” That doesn’t solve the dilemma, but at least we got some positive feedback.

Jason of x360 is waiting for a Sudanese visa, but couldn’t help getting on the bike in Ethiopia while he waits. It sounds rough, with scads of rock-throwing kids and overburdened farmland.

There are considerations besides comfort, Haiku finds:

Don’t get me wrong – I love hiking in a kilt. Around here the kilt gets a LOT of strange looks. I normally don’t mind the looks, but now I’m relying on the helpfulness of strangers, for hitches into town and the like. I got the feeling on our last hitch that the kilt really hurt our chances. So I’ll hike in shorts.

Treehugger, experienced trailie, calls an early halt to her CDT hike:

To complete a long distance hike, you have to be very motivated. You have to want so badly to hike that you don’t care about the heat, or the heat rash, or the cacti rubbing on the heat rash, or the fact that your feet hurt, and you don’t have an actual trail, or that you are being harrassed by Border Patrol daily, or that you almost stepped on a rattle snake, or that you are dirty, or that you miss your boyfriend, or that you have a pile of grass seed and burs in your socks, or that you haven’t slept in 48 hours, or that you hate hiking in a large group, or that your tent–or a rodent–keeps you awake at night, that you have to wake up before sunrise and hike beyond sunset. You have to really want it. And I guess I don’t.

Someone who didn’t know better would have done the grind for a couple of weeks. Contrast this with the perspective of Witch Doctor:

It’s almost 12:30am. We have been up all day and night preparing for our hike. We have all the gear we need. We have food drops ready to be mailed. Tomorrow I will be standing at the border, looking north, starting my next adventure. I can’t sleep. My mind is racing, and yet I can’t focus on a single thought. I am excited about getting on the trail finally, but worried that we haven’t planned enough. For the next 3000 miles, Lucky, Bams and I will be living the life we have grown to love. Solitude. Serenity. Sanctuary. It’s going to be a long 6 months…. but I am looking forward to every minute. Sunshine and Smiles!

DITR is for Diamond In The Rough: personally crafted sites hiding off the beaten track. Climber Mei wrote great climbing trip reports from 2002-2006. Then it seems she broke one finger, got a big diamond ring on another, and the trip reports came to an end. I’m glad she left them up.

Looks like a visit to Sydney, Australia provides a climber with a wide variety of locales.