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| Water snake |
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| Lupine fixes nitrogen and so is well suited to this sandy soil (Lupinus diffusus) |
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| Blue star |
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| azalea |
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Canoeing through the Cypress Swamp
The George Smith State Park in eastern Georgia features a cypress/ tupelo swamp with a network of canoe trails. Tannins from the trees make the water a rich tea-color and the still surface a mirror. The Trail Dames camped at the spacious and immaculately clean pioneer campsite. We rented a pair of canoes, and followed the blazes through the swamp, a bit too close to the nest of an angry osprey. We watched an elegant water snake glide through the water.
There was something extremely meditative about being on the peaceful stillness of water, breathing the clean moist air. Weaving through the cypress, whose reflection in the glassy water created a tangled optical illusion, I lost all sense of time.
We hiked through the longleaf pine forest, which was so different from the forests in north Georgia. The trail was hot and sandy, but we saw a few flowers.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Leaving my kitchen behind
I had another backpacking breakthrough-- I went completely stoveless. And it worked out great! I didn't miss the 12 extra ounces in my pack when I was squatting down to get a closer view of wildflowers. I didn't spend one moment wishing I'd had a stove to fuss with in the wind, or wait for what always seems like f-o-r-e-v-e-r for the water to boil.
Making my meals was simple- I'd add cold water to any dried food a few hours before I wanted to eat. On the trail, I pulled out my re-hydrated food and started eating right away. I relaxed at viewpoints full-bellied and content. What freedom!
Simple Standing Indian Stove-less Menu
Quick and easy burritos
At home, put instant re-fried beans (available in the bulk section of the local food co-op) in a small freezer bag. Add water to rehydrate and let sit a few hours. At beautiful wildflower meadow, spread beans on a tortilla, top with shredded string cheese, and add a few slices of bell pepper, cilantro, and a packet of salsa.
Sushi on the trail
At home, cook sushi rice according to package instructions. For each cup of cooked rice, mix together 2 Tbs. rice wine vinegar, 1 Tbs. sugar, and 1/2 tsp salt and heat in microwave until sugar dissolves. Pour over rice and mix well. Add sesame seeds (optional). Spread on dehydrator trays and dehydrate overnight. Put into freezer bag. On the trail, add cold water to cover and let sit at least three hours. I tore up "crispy toasted seaweed" and added it to the rice along with tuna (best with oil-packed) and mixed it all together in the bag. But if you want to get fancy, you can make little rolls if you have a flat surface (like I did on a recent dayhike) and even add avocado if you want to splurge.
Snacks to get you up the mountains
While backpacking, I "eat like a hobbit" (i.e. have first breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, tea-time snack, pre-dinner snack, dinner, and dessert). I eat snacks every two or two and a half hours. This gives my body sustained energy and keeps my tummy happy. I bring an assortment of home-dehydrated fruit such as strawberries, bananas, apples, kiwi, and mandarin oranges. To add protein, I dip dried bananas in peanut butter, and pair fruit with string cheese, which keeps for days unrefrigerated.
Awesome oatmeal
At home, put into your plastic bag any or all of the following: oats, wheat bran, flax seeds (just a little bit), unsweetened coconut, dried cranberries, dried milk (Nido is best), slivered almonds, cinnamon and cardamom. Before bed, add water, seal tightly, and hang in bear bag. In the morning it will be ready, the oats nicely softened and flavors melded together.
Making my meals was simple- I'd add cold water to any dried food a few hours before I wanted to eat. On the trail, I pulled out my re-hydrated food and started eating right away. I relaxed at viewpoints full-bellied and content. What freedom!
 |
| My pot, stove, & fuel weigh 12 ounces. |
Simple Standing Indian Stove-less Menu
Quick and easy burritos
At home, put instant re-fried beans (available in the bulk section of the local food co-op) in a small freezer bag. Add water to rehydrate and let sit a few hours. At beautiful wildflower meadow, spread beans on a tortilla, top with shredded string cheese, and add a few slices of bell pepper, cilantro, and a packet of salsa.
 |
| Lunch couldn't be easier. |
Sushi on the trail
At home, cook sushi rice according to package instructions. For each cup of cooked rice, mix together 2 Tbs. rice wine vinegar, 1 Tbs. sugar, and 1/2 tsp salt and heat in microwave until sugar dissolves. Pour over rice and mix well. Add sesame seeds (optional). Spread on dehydrator trays and dehydrate overnight. Put into freezer bag. On the trail, add cold water to cover and let sit at least three hours. I tore up "crispy toasted seaweed" and added it to the rice along with tuna (best with oil-packed) and mixed it all together in the bag. But if you want to get fancy, you can make little rolls if you have a flat surface (like I did on a recent dayhike) and even add avocado if you want to splurge.
 |
| The sushi rice is done dehydrating when it is totally crispy. |
 |
| Sushi rice with spicy tofu-jerky (Note: this was taken on a previous dayhike) |
Snacks to get you up the mountains
While backpacking, I "eat like a hobbit" (i.e. have first breakfast, second breakfast, lunch, tea-time snack, pre-dinner snack, dinner, and dessert). I eat snacks every two or two and a half hours. This gives my body sustained energy and keeps my tummy happy. I bring an assortment of home-dehydrated fruit such as strawberries, bananas, apples, kiwi, and mandarin oranges. To add protein, I dip dried bananas in peanut butter, and pair fruit with string cheese, which keeps for days unrefrigerated.
 |
| Finger-sandwich of dried apples, string cheese, and tofu-jerky. |
 |
| Slice fruit thinly and pat dry. Leave on dehydrator overnight. |
Awesome oatmeal
At home, put into your plastic bag any or all of the following: oats, wheat bran, flax seeds (just a little bit), unsweetened coconut, dried cranberries, dried milk (Nido is best), slivered almonds, cinnamon and cardamom. Before bed, add water, seal tightly, and hang in bear bag. In the morning it will be ready, the oats nicely softened and flavors melded together.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Standing Indian Overnight
The Lower Ridge Trail in the Nantahala Wilderness of North Carolina is described by Tim Homan as having more "ferns and herbaceous wildflower species than any other trail under 7 miles" in his whole guidebook to the Southern Nantahala Wilderness. After I read this, I knew I had to do this trail, and I figured out an overnight backpacking trip that would feature this trail as the grand finale.
From the Standing Indian Backcountry Information parking area, I started up the 3.7 mile Kimsey Creek Trail towards Deep Gap on the Appalachian Trail (AT). Not five minutes into the hike, I was already oooing and ahhing and stopping to take photos every few steps. The stream valley was carpeted in trout lily, hepatica, and spring beauties.
Going up in elevation along a trail like the Kimsey Creek trail allows you to step back in time. Early spring is in full swing down in the valley- the forest floor is awash in bright green and the early ephemerals wave their bright heads.
Climb higher and the same plants are at earlier stages of development with blossoms not yet open. Higher still, and they are like little wrinkly babies. The youngest sprouts look strange and at first it's difficult to tell what they will become. By observing the sequence up the hillside, it's possible in just one morning to see the stages of spring that take place over the course of several weeks at a single location. The tinniest sprout, the folded-up shoot, the partially open bud, the fully spread bright wildflower-- this whole dramatic series unfolds like in one of a timelapse nature movies, by simply walking up along this trail and back in time from spring to late winter.
When I reached Deep Gap and the AT, I turned south and began hiking the 6.8 miles to Bly Gap, where I had finished off my section hike last time. After the spring wonderland of the Kimsey Creek trail, the AT was a brown, windy, cold contrast. I even found traces of the ice that a thru hiker said fell the previous night. I put on my mittens and kept moving to stay warm.
There was a steady stream of thru hikers headed in the other direction on their way to Maine. I stopped and talked to all the other solo women (not that there were very many!). I met Weaver from Baltimore. She was really nice and we admired each other's skirts, and I found out she also is on the Women Hikers Listserv, and is a member of the Maryland Trail Dames. What a small world!
When I reached the famous oak tree at Bly Gap, I met Splitter, another awesome solo female hiker. When I asked her how her hike was going, she talked about not fitting in, being between the two big groups of hikers- the college kids and the retirees. She observed how it seems like everyone our age (i.e. 30's) is married, has a house, and is starting a family, not out on the trail. It was such a moment of connection for me-- here we were not even talking for five minutes, and we were having a real conversation. It felt so good to share this frustration of always feeling older or younger than everyone else. I was also happy to know there are other 30 year olds out there who are hikers and who are choosing our own path, even though we are very few and far between. (Note to my hiking friends: please don't take this to mean that I don't love hiking with all the people who are older than me, or that I don't feel accepted. It's just that sometimes I look around and wonder what is wrong with me that there are very few other people my age.)
I turned around at Bly Gap and headed back north again to look for a place to camp. Muskrat shelter was crowded so I kept moving to find a quiet place. Once I arrived at "White Oak Stamp" which was a high level area with dense rhododendron, I wandered around in the woods for a whole hour trying to figure out where to set up my hammock. The wind was intense and cold, so I needed to find a sheltered place out of the wind and I wanted to be well away from the trail. That was easier said than done-- the wind swept across ridges and swirled into hollows. I watched carefully to see how the wind moved across the landscape, and I finally found a spot halfway down the valley, protected by a rhododendron thicket. I was thankful that I carefully selected my site, because the wind howled fiercely. I crawled into my sleeping bag even before the sun went down because it was so cold out, but I left my tarp off for a view of my surroundings. I listened to a good episode of "This American Life" as I watched the tallest trees dancing against the starry-sky, the rhododendrons around me barely stirring. It was pure bliss to be toasty warm and comfortable in my hammock, breathing the crisp air and feeling my heavily-used muscles relaxing. I felt so grateful to my friends Kellye and Sweet Pea for introducing me to hammock camping. I used to toss and turn all night sleeping on the ground, but in my hammock, I sleep soundly.
The next morning, I got an early start, and watched the sun rise as I hiked towards Standing Indian, the tallest peak in the Nantahala Wilderness. The sun's rays lit up the mountains, and I had incredible views through the bare trees of the surrounding valleys. One thing I really appreciated was that even though I had never done this section of trail, I knew the mountains and valleys around me from hiking other trails in the area. I looked down into the Upper Tallulah River valley, and thought about the wonderful swimming holes, butterflies, and rare plants I'd seen hiking the Deep Gap trail. I love having that sense of perspective.
The view from Standing Indian was breathtaking, and I was delighted to run into Weaver for the second time, and we chatted with some other weekenders who were just waking up and emerging from their tents on the summit.
I returned down the steep but scenic Lower Ridge Trail. The wildflowers along the lower half of the trail lived up to the guidebook's description, both in diversity and abundance, and I lingered along the path as I made my way back to my car.
From the Standing Indian Backcountry Information parking area, I started up the 3.7 mile Kimsey Creek Trail towards Deep Gap on the Appalachian Trail (AT). Not five minutes into the hike, I was already oooing and ahhing and stopping to take photos every few steps. The stream valley was carpeted in trout lily, hepatica, and spring beauties.
  |
| Trout lily and bloodroot at lower elevation. |
  |
| Mayapple in its awkward early stage; bloodroot with leaves still clasped around their stalk. |
 |
| Ice at high elevation along the AT |
When I reached the famous oak tree at Bly Gap, I met Splitter, another awesome solo female hiker. When I asked her how her hike was going, she talked about not fitting in, being between the two big groups of hikers- the college kids and the retirees. She observed how it seems like everyone our age (i.e. 30's) is married, has a house, and is starting a family, not out on the trail. It was such a moment of connection for me-- here we were not even talking for five minutes, and we were having a real conversation. It felt so good to share this frustration of always feeling older or younger than everyone else. I was also happy to know there are other 30 year olds out there who are hikers and who are choosing our own path, even though we are very few and far between. (Note to my hiking friends: please don't take this to mean that I don't love hiking with all the people who are older than me, or that I don't feel accepted. It's just that sometimes I look around and wonder what is wrong with me that there are very few other people my age.)
I turned around at Bly Gap and headed back north again to look for a place to camp. Muskrat shelter was crowded so I kept moving to find a quiet place. Once I arrived at "White Oak Stamp" which was a high level area with dense rhododendron, I wandered around in the woods for a whole hour trying to figure out where to set up my hammock. The wind was intense and cold, so I needed to find a sheltered place out of the wind and I wanted to be well away from the trail. That was easier said than done-- the wind swept across ridges and swirled into hollows. I watched carefully to see how the wind moved across the landscape, and I finally found a spot halfway down the valley, protected by a rhododendron thicket. I was thankful that I carefully selected my site, because the wind howled fiercely. I crawled into my sleeping bag even before the sun went down because it was so cold out, but I left my tarp off for a view of my surroundings. I listened to a good episode of "This American Life" as I watched the tallest trees dancing against the starry-sky, the rhododendrons around me barely stirring. It was pure bliss to be toasty warm and comfortable in my hammock, breathing the crisp air and feeling my heavily-used muscles relaxing. I felt so grateful to my friends Kellye and Sweet Pea for introducing me to hammock camping. I used to toss and turn all night sleeping on the ground, but in my hammock, I sleep soundly.
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| Hanging in comfort. |
The view from Standing Indian was breathtaking, and I was delighted to run into Weaver for the second time, and we chatted with some other weekenders who were just waking up and emerging from their tents on the summit.
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| On Standing Indian, 5499 feet. |
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| Trillium |
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| Spring beauties |
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| Hillside of wildflowers |
On the drive home just before the NC/GA boarder, I stopped at one of the only local dairy's I know about around here, called Spring Ridge Creamery, and got a sweet treat to end the day. YUM!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wildflower Heaven
I eagerly anticipate my first visit of the year to the wildflower paradise that is the Pocket of Pigeon Mountain. I schedule a hike there with the Trail Dames on Sunday, and make a plan to "scout" the hike on Saturday. It's been a year since I've visited, so want to re-familiarize myself with the route and driving directions so the Dames' hike goes smoothly. It's also an excuse to spend an extra day watching spring unfold.
On the drive up on Saturday, the rain begins. From the look of the sky and the weather forecast, this is not a passing storm. The rain intensifies. My partner Still Water looks at me and asks if I want to turn around and go back home. I flash her my starry-eyed grin and say of course not.
We decide to save the trip to the Pocket until the end of the day, and take a detour over to hike the Keown Falls and Johns Mountain Trail Double Loop. Water pours from the sky and down rivulets, the streams swell and burst over their banks. I splash through the trail-turned-stream. Lightening flashes and thunder booms across the valley. The soaking rain intensifies the colors of the swollen bud tips of the trees, the white of the dogwood blossoms, and the blood red of the sweetshrub.
Rain drips from unfolding fern fronds and green moss. Water rushes over Keown Falls, and pours over the rockface in other spots, creating myriad other waterfalls. And of course there it is-- the most wonderful thing about hiking in rain... TREE FOAM at the bases of trees!!!
In the late afternoon, we head over to the Pocket. It's still raining like mad. But I can hardly wait to see what's blooming. I dart around the boardwalk, flapping my big rainponch and swishing my rainpants in greeting to all the flowers. Hello bluebells, hello poppies, hello trillium.
After three visits to the Pocket last year, I have some idea of where to find clusters of the various species, but I am also surprised at how much further along they all are compared to last year. There are also more trees down, and signs of flooding. I am astonished at the number of bent trilliums waving their white heads up the hillside. The rain fills the valley with an air of freshness. I soak it all in.
On Sunday, I repeat the hikes again with the Trail Dames under an overcast sky. I am thankful for the break in the rain so that I can take out my camera and because it makes for an easier hike for the Dames, but I am also grateful I got to experience the magic of that early spring rainstorm.
On the drive up on Saturday, the rain begins. From the look of the sky and the weather forecast, this is not a passing storm. The rain intensifies. My partner Still Water looks at me and asks if I want to turn around and go back home. I flash her my starry-eyed grin and say of course not.
We decide to save the trip to the Pocket until the end of the day, and take a detour over to hike the Keown Falls and Johns Mountain Trail Double Loop. Water pours from the sky and down rivulets, the streams swell and burst over their banks. I splash through the trail-turned-stream. Lightening flashes and thunder booms across the valley. The soaking rain intensifies the colors of the swollen bud tips of the trees, the white of the dogwood blossoms, and the blood red of the sweetshrub.
Rain drips from unfolding fern fronds and green moss. Water rushes over Keown Falls, and pours over the rockface in other spots, creating myriad other waterfalls. And of course there it is-- the most wonderful thing about hiking in rain... TREE FOAM at the bases of trees!!!
In the late afternoon, we head over to the Pocket. It's still raining like mad. But I can hardly wait to see what's blooming. I dart around the boardwalk, flapping my big rainponch and swishing my rainpants in greeting to all the flowers. Hello bluebells, hello poppies, hello trillium.
After three visits to the Pocket last year, I have some idea of where to find clusters of the various species, but I am also surprised at how much further along they all are compared to last year. There are also more trees down, and signs of flooding. I am astonished at the number of bent trilliums waving their white heads up the hillside. The rain fills the valley with an air of freshness. I soak it all in.
On Sunday, I repeat the hikes again with the Trail Dames under an overcast sky. I am thankful for the break in the rain so that I can take out my camera and because it makes for an easier hike for the Dames, but I am also grateful I got to experience the magic of that early spring rainstorm.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Section Hiking the Georgia AT (Part 2)
I did an overnight trip with SHOE to hike the AT section from Dick's Creek Gap to the North Carolina boarder near Bly Gap. This is the second to last section of the AT in Georgia for me, and it was definitely one of my favorites. Though I think I say that about all my hikes. I was so excited to finally see the "famous" gnarled old tree located near the boarder. I've read about this tree in many trail journals, and it definitely lived up to all the hype.
We stayed near Plumorchard Gap Shelter, and had some great conversations with a few AT thru hikers. We also ran into fellow Trail Dame Linda, who was out backpacking. What a small world!
It was a clear night and I slept in my hammock without the tarp, so had a clear view of the moon and stars through the trees.
Thanks so much, SHOE, for doing this section with me!
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| At Bly Gap near the GA/NC boarder. |
We stayed near Plumorchard Gap Shelter, and had some great conversations with a few AT thru hikers. We also ran into fellow Trail Dame Linda, who was out backpacking. What a small world!
It was a clear night and I slept in my hammock without the tarp, so had a clear view of the moon and stars through the trees.
Thanks so much, SHOE, for doing this section with me!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Urban Adventures with the Mad Housers
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| A Mad Houser- built hut. |
Our job this week was to respond to client's requests for repairs and/or put finishing touches on newly built huts. After picking up tools and supplies at the Mad Housers warehouse, we drove to the site and met the client. We repaired his leaky roof, added a ladder to provide access to the loft, and painted the outside green to provide added camouflage. My task was to climb up into the loft and caulk gaps between the plywood. Lying up there feeling the wind coming through the cracks, I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of spending the cold winter in what is basically a small, uninsulated shed.
The president of the group was our team leader for the day and was really friendly, and a super guy. He was great at explaining everything and at giving us all jobs and teaching us what to do so everyone could contribute.
It's amazing to think that within the city, there is this completely hidden world out there. Outside of view but closer to the rest of the world than you'd imagine, people are living with very little. Please check out the Mad Housers website and do everything you can to support this incredible organization!
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Pinhoti Trail through the Dugger Mtn. Wilderness
The Pinhoti trail extends 335 miles from Alabama to Georgia's Benton MacKaye trail and offers plenty of solitude. We saw early spring wildflowers and heard spring peepers on our 12 mile hike through the Dugger Mountain Wilderness in Alabama but encountered no other hikers, even though it was a 70-degree sunny Saturday. We started from the (well-marked and easily accessible) Burns Trailhead and went a bit past Dugger Mountain, the second highest peak in Alabama.
This little-used path weaved through remarkably varied habitats- dry open slopes, gleaming white boulderfields, mountain laurel lined stream banks, and forest types that were unlike ones I've encountered in Georgia. The constant of this hike was the bright emerald moss lining the trail.
This section of the Pinhoti trail was exceptionally well-designed (and well-marked) and had the most gradual inclines I've ever encountered, like a long ramp-- as if the trail designer's main goal was to create a trail that's easy on the knees. Often this required extensive detours up side-canyons, as we traced contour lines. The Pinhoti trail also lacked any intimidating-looking inclines. It spiraled it's way around the sides of the mountains, creating the illusion that the summit was just up ahead. But round the corner, the gentle incline continued ahead still not looking difficult. In this way, the trail tricked us into climbing 1500 feet while giving the impression it was just an easy stroll (though tired legs provided a reminder that we were really doing some climbing).
We never reached the summit of Dugger Mountain, or an overlook, making me grateful that the leaf-less trees provided winter views in both directions from the ridge-tops.
The other impressive thing about the Pinhoti trail was the detailed website, complete with trail descriptions, maps, and driving directions to trailheads. This trail is at lower overall elevation than the North Georgia mountains, making it a great place to go in the fall, winter, and spring.
 |
| Hepatica with its characteristic 3-lobed leaves |
This little-used path weaved through remarkably varied habitats- dry open slopes, gleaming white boulderfields, mountain laurel lined stream banks, and forest types that were unlike ones I've encountered in Georgia. The constant of this hike was the bright emerald moss lining the trail.
This section of the Pinhoti trail was exceptionally well-designed (and well-marked) and had the most gradual inclines I've ever encountered, like a long ramp-- as if the trail designer's main goal was to create a trail that's easy on the knees. Often this required extensive detours up side-canyons, as we traced contour lines. The Pinhoti trail also lacked any intimidating-looking inclines. It spiraled it's way around the sides of the mountains, creating the illusion that the summit was just up ahead. But round the corner, the gentle incline continued ahead still not looking difficult. In this way, the trail tricked us into climbing 1500 feet while giving the impression it was just an easy stroll (though tired legs provided a reminder that we were really doing some climbing).
We never reached the summit of Dugger Mountain, or an overlook, making me grateful that the leaf-less trees provided winter views in both directions from the ridge-tops.
The other impressive thing about the Pinhoti trail was the detailed website, complete with trail descriptions, maps, and driving directions to trailheads. This trail is at lower overall elevation than the North Georgia mountains, making it a great place to go in the fall, winter, and spring.
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