Mary [Shiff] Francis
(c) 2000
Crazy people are the only people who get out of bed at five on a Saturday morning. I am crazy. I rose, grumbling and in great need of coffee, and then I realized that coffee was the last thing I needed to drink before I went on an all-day hike up a mountain with no outhouses. My dear husband of only six weeks made two cups of coffee and was halfway through his when I explained why I wasn�t touching mine. �Uh-oh,� he said and set his cup back on the counter. But I saw him pick it up again later and drink the rest. He doesn�t have to get half-undressed when nature calls in the wilderness.
Packing our daypacks had kept us up until midnight as we loaded, unloaded, reloaded, unloaded, and reloaded again. Even though we would travel together, we were individual students in the Wilderness Training Course so we weren�t allowed to share anything. Each of us had to pack a full set of everything. �Everything� started with the �Ten Essentials,� a list we memorized at the first class. The list starts out with a map, a compass, and a flashlight. Then the item �flashlight� is stretched to include extra batteries and an extra bulb in case the flashlight dies between sunset and the car. Some leaders prefer a headlamp to a flashlight so they can use both hands to break their falls on the dark trail or to grab at branches as they go over the edge. Most leaders suggest carrying a tiny extra flashlight to provide light when I have to change batteries or bulb in my regular flashlight after dark. Essential item number four is an extra pair of sunglasses. The fifth item is extra food and water. Extra water is the one-liter bottle I will carry in addition to the regular water I need for the day. And the extra food is supposed to be a snack bar or some other high-energy food that tastes bad enough I won�t be tempted to eat it along with my regular snacks. By my count we are well beyond five items now. The leaders try to fool us into believing we are carrying less weight by lumping a numerous variety of items into a group called �Ten Essentials.�
I thought the packing session would be a good opportunity to practice my hiking breathing skills. I-i-i-h-h-h. Whooh! I-i-i-h-h-h. Whooh! My darling looked up from his daypack, �You all right, love?�
�I�m fine, just practicing my breathing.�
�Practicing?� he questioned.
�Remember when Leader Mark said that forcing air out of our lungs was a good way to make sure we would get plenty of fresh air in?� I demonstrated. I-i-i-h-h-h. Whooh! I-i-i-h-h-h. Whooh!
�Heavy breathing turns me on,� he said as he leered at me.
�Finish your packing!� I smiled innocently up at the victim of my charms. I-i-i-h-h-h. Whooh! I-i-i-h-h-h. Whooh!
The second half of the �Ten Essentials� list takes up more pack space than the first half, which had already filled my daypack well beyond the halfway mark. Extra clothing counts as item six, but it includes a wool cap, wool gloves, and a heavy shirt or sweater in case the weather turns cool or I get lost and have to spend the night on the mountain. I also have to pack extra socks. And I need rain gear: rain pants and jacket in a waterproof fabric that won�t tear easily. Essential number seven is waterproof matches and a piece of sandpaper to strike them on. Number eight is a candle or some other fire starter because a fire could come in handy if I get lost and have to spend the night on the mountain. I don�t relish the thought of being arrested for starting a fire on a mountain, but a jail cell would be warmer and I wouldn�t have to worry about falling over the edge in the dark. The pocketknife stands alone as an essential, but it must have more than one blade. If mine had a scissors on it I wouldn�t have to carry a scissors in my first aid kit, which is the last item on the �Ten Essentials� list. The kit can be very basic�band aids, gauze, antiseptic in a tube, adhesive tape, small scissors because I don�t have one as an attachment on my pocketknife, and sticky-backed moleskin for covering boot rubs before they turn into nasty blisters. The leaders told us that handkerchiefs work great as tourniquets and that sanitary pads are great for staunching a blood flow, but I refuse to add more weight or bulk to my daypack. If I am attacked by a bear, I intend to gasp a farewell to my beloved and die quickly.
My daypack was overstuffed by the time I finished packing the essentials. Then I had to pack the regular items for the day. How was I going to carry my water, my lunch, and my bag of trail mix for high-energy snacking? Where was I going to stash my camera and the extra roll of film? Did I have enough zip pockets on my daypack to hold my sunscreen in case the sun came out, my lip balm for protection from the wind, and my portable restroom? Potty breaks were going to break me. The idea of hiking up a mountain was depressing enough after I found out I would have to undress in the brush when nature�s call became insistent. I was shocked when the leaders instructed us to bring toilet tissue, a small trowel, and plastic bags for hauling back home our used toilet tissue. Plastic bags? I plan to drink only enough water to prevent dehydration, and I pray that the only use I have for the toilet tissue is to wipe my nose if my allergies act up.
So, after spending half the night stuffing my daypack with the ten essentials and other necessities, I got up before dawn. My darling new husband stayed at my side to make sure I stayed awake and dressed properly for the hike. Dressed? When he started kissing on me, all I wanted to do was go back to bed. �No, sweetheart,� he said as I sagged toward the mattress, �We�ve got a date with Mt. Lowe.�
The trail starts in Pasadena at an 1800-foot elevation. Mt. Lowe is at 5600 feet. The trail zigzags pretty much up for about five and one-half miles. If one is lucky enough to make it to the summit, then one has to zigzag pretty much down for about five and one-half miles to get back to one�s car.
We arrived in Pasadena at 6:50 a.m. and stopped at a gas station for our last visit to a flush toilet. At the trailhead, the leaders checked our packs to make sure we had sufficient weights made up of sufficient quantities to make us sufficiently miserable carrying the packs, but reasonably safe and comfortable if the hike turned into an overnight expedition. Then the leaders eyed our outfits to make sure there was no cotton visible. They didn�t ask if we were wearing cotton underwear; we had been instructed to wear polypro or other manmade fabrics that would wick moisture away from the skin. My brand-new long underwear with matching long-sleeved pullover top was made of 100 percent polyester. I wore a brand-new fuzzy polypro vest with a zipper so I could adjust my outfit for proper cooling and ventilation. And over everything, I wore an almost-new nylon jogging suit. My wide-brimmed, waterproof hat didn�t match the rest of my outfit, but it made me look like a real hiker so I wore it proudly as I lined up with the rest of the group. My wonderful husband took his place a little farther down the line to show that he was quite confident I could make it to the summit without his assistance.
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