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kbatku
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kbatku
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PostWed Nov 21, 2012 10:57 pm 
Quote:
Leaving Stehekin. Brr finally weighed his pack for the first time the whole trip. 80 lbs. Probably always weighed that much
I'll just go out on a limb here and guess that's why he finished in November rather than September?? smile.gif

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meandering Wa
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PostThu Nov 22, 2012 8:36 am 
I will add a slightly off topic note the thru hiker who left the trail and had cancer chemo in Yakima, resumed walking 2 days later and finished the trail. He returned to California and continues his chemo. http://hikingthepacificcrest.wordpress.com/

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RumiDude
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RumiDude
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PostThu Nov 22, 2012 10:06 am 
kbatku wrote:
Quote:
Leaving Stehekin. Brr finally weighed his pack for the first time the whole trip. 80 lbs. Probably always weighed that much
I'll just go out on a limb here and guess that's why he finished in November rather than September?? smile.gif
Old school ... Rumi

"This is my Indian summer ... I'm far more dangerous now, because I don't care at all."
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bullfrog
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PostMon Dec 03, 2012 9:02 pm 
Just want to follow up with the report from I'm Fine himself, as posted to the PCT-L listserve: "I'm Fine's" Story in his own words. October 19th, I was hiking in the rain, when I passed Bouncer and Storytime mid day who were waiting out the weather in their tents. After a few hours of hiking, rain turned to sleet, and eventually to snow. There was already some snow on the ground to begin with. I crossed Red Pass (6500 ft), and was soaked to the bone and freezing, so after descending to a small patch of trees at roughly 5500 ft, it started to get dark and I decided to setup camp. When I awoke in the morning, the snow was already knee to mid thigh deep, with some waist high drifts, and it was still coming down. I packed up and decided to make a move for lower elevation, soon losing the trail. I cut downhill to my left, the side of the ridge covered with nearly waist deep snow, aiming for a creek with the intention of following running water to lower elevation and hopefully eventually exiting the wilderness. After following the creek for maybe an hour or so, I came to another patch of trees and noticed a stump that had been saw-cut. I continued alongside the creek until I came to 3 small logs laying across the creek with saw-cut ends, and a noticeable indent (trail) in the snow on the other side. I crossed the logs, and followed the indent the best I could, eventually leading to a forested area, with the trail being much easier to follow. This led to a very nice man made bridge, and the trail through the forested area had less than knee deep snow for the most part. I came to a side trail reading "trail abandoned, use new side trail .25 mile north of Sitkum Creek on PCT". I continued to follow the trail until I reached that side trail, with a sign reading "White Chuck Road and trail washed out". f###. I continued north on the PCT until I reached a sign reading "White Chuck Road, and Kennedy Hot Springs". Scratched into the sign were some notes from other hikers including "Both Destroyed!!!" and "Not an exit!!!". f###. I continued on the PCT hoping to cross Fire Creek Pass, and camp by Milk Creek, hoping that the Milk Creek Trail would offer an exit. By nightfall I lost the trail just north of where it crosses Glacier Creek (not realizing that it crossed the creek, continuing straight instead), and dug in next to a boulder, setup camp, and hoped to find the trail in the morning. When I woke up a fresh 3-4 inches of snow had fallen. I continued to walk straight until I got on top of the ridge line. When I crested the ridge I saw no sign of trail. The ridge dropped steeply down in front of me, to my left was a steep treacherous pass, complete with shear cliffs and glaciers, and to my right the ridge gradually descended until there were trees on it. I couldn't cross the pass, I didn't want to slide down into the canyon to my front (which eventually ended up happening anyway), I didn't want to back track, so I trucked down the ridge to my right hoping to find sign of the trail once I got into the trees, cut off branches, bark, anything. Eventually the ridge grew steeper and steeper until I started sliding out in 20ish foot sections, stopping myself on trees, until I reached a small 5 or 6 foot cliff. I lowered down that holding onto small trees and branches. Eventually the path I chose became nearly vertical offering me no other options than to continue forward. I reached a 15-20 foot cliff, the path behind too steep to back track, so I maneuvered horizontally holding onto trees until I found a smaller section of cliff about 9 feet high. I dropped my back pack and trekking poles down first, then pissed on my hands to warm them up enough to gain enough grip strength to lower myself down holding onto exposed roots or rock. When I got to my back pack, which had rolled about twenty feet in the snow I noticed that my camera had fallen out of my hip belt pocket. I dug all around in the snow, went downhill, back uphill, nothing. I had lost the only thing making me feel somewhat connected to the outside world/people. Lost my video diaries of this whole misadventure. Felt more alone. I continued forward until the ground got a lot flatter and stumbled through a patch of small trees all bent over under the weight of the snow from knee to chest height. I reached one more small cliff and dropped down to the scree slopes of the canyon below and started following the creek at the bottom downstream until after about a quarter mile it dropped off steeply into a section of canyon with 20 foot vertical walls. I back tracked until I reached another waterfall. Each side of the canyon was too steep to ascend, so on the floor of the canyon between two branches of the creek, I stomped down and scooped out as much snow as I could on the flattest spot I could find and set up my tent. And I waited. And waited. And waited... And starved. And froze. And waited. On day 2 for some reason I had a premonition that after nine nights in my tent I would be rescued. I spent those nine nights rationing food at 300-500 calories per day, the first couple days were closer to six or seven hundred. The first five or six nights were very cold, and during this period the snow would melt a little during the day, then usually more snow would fall back to it's original level. After that it warmed up enough to rain, and even the nights held only slightly below freezing. After night nine, the snow was mostly melted. During this period I spent all day either hoping, thinking, going crazy with hunger pains, or sometimes extreme anxiety, or laying down calmly escaped in a day dream. I would sometimes feel good in my decision to wait for help, and other times I contemplated trying anything I could to make an escape. I would drift back and forth between feeling relatively calm and sedated, to helpless and anxious. At times I was confident that I would survive, and other times I was less hopeful. By the fifth or sixth day I began imagining airplane sounds from the noise the creek was making, by the seventh or 8th day I began imagining helicopter noises, and by day nine or ten I would constantly hear both airplanes and helicopters so I wore earplugs for the last two days to try to protect my sanity the best I could. After the ninth night the snow had melted enough that I should have made a break for it then, but I decided to wait the day out in leu of my premonition, and if I hadn't been rescued I would go for it the next day. This was my first full day with zero calorie intake. The day came and went, and when I woke up the next morning I decided that if I were going to die in the wilderness, I wasn't going to die laying in a nylon coffin in that god forsaken canyon which I had grown to detest. I packed up and headed for the waterfall upstream, and carefully climbed hand over hand beside it, then followed the creek above to a low spot in the small cliff above the steep canyon wall, the only possible chance I had of climbing out. I crawled up the small scree slope on my hands and knees, then grabbed onto rocks and roots to climb up the canyon wall. I reached a shelf between the small canyon wall I climbed up and a large canyon wall on the other side. I fought through thick undergrowth and trees until I reached an exposed section and climbed up a small knoll to view the surrounding area. I spotted my best chance of getting up the canyon wall and back onto the ridge line that I originally ended up on after glacier creek. Leading up to this small spot was a steep scree slope, which I crossed very carefully, each ill placed step sliding out. When I got to the point I would attempt to climb, I started up, and grabbing onto the frigid rock face for dear life, made it up. Thinking back I cringed a little at the thought of how narrowly I had made it to where I was and what would have happened if I made a mistake. I hiked back to the first spot I reached on the ridge and resurveyed the surroundings. I hiked around the area for a couple hours, backtracking two different times until i got back to the same spot, and eventually traced my steps back to glacier creek, found the trail and where it crosses, and followed it up to fire creek pass, which was still covered in snow about eight to ten inches deep and completely exposed, making navigating very difficult. The north side of the pass still had deep snow drifts and I couldn't see the trail at all at some points. I found my way until the trail became clearer, and I followed it as it dropped in elevation, back into pine forest. It started raining lightly and by nightfall I was pretty wet. I camped on the trail north of milk creek. The next two passes between me and Stehekin were all pretty much the same, difficult to maneuver, covered in snow, and sometimes frightening. I made it to Stehekin on anose was bleeding all morning from the cold dry air. By nightfall, before the sun had even finished setting, my thermometer maxed out at zero degrees. After the ice that had formed in my inflatable sleeping pad the night before stabbed a hole through it, I set up a bed of pine branches under my tent for extra warmth on the last night. I finished my thru hike on November 11th. Ian Sarmento (I'm Fine)

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grizzlygibbs
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PostTue Dec 04, 2012 12:08 am 
Wow!

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puzzlr
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PostTue Dec 04, 2012 2:14 am 
riveting reading. So glad he made it out to tell the story.

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Snowbrushy
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PostTue Dec 04, 2012 5:06 am 
Thank you I'm Fine for telling your story. I was only a little worried about you - you had all my faith (With a name like that). Congrat's on your huge accomplishment. up.gif

Oh Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace Like thoughts inside a dream Heed the path that led me to that place Yellow desert stream.
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wolffie
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 1:29 am 
This story is my nightmare: out in that country without a good map, even without snow cover. Presumably, PCTers can't carry adequate maps to cover their whole sections -- too heavy -- so they rely on not wandering too far off-trail into my nightmare. I would say his principal mistake was in continuing on after he realized he'd lost his way. Every time I've gotten lost, that's how I did it. When you're off-route, don't blunder on, hoping to get lucky. Go back to the last place where you knew where you were, and carefully try again from there. Usually, you lose a trail at some obstacle, perhaps where it makes a turn of some sort. Can anybody figure out where he got lost? I can't puzzle it out. I'm wondering if he misidentifies Pumice Ck as 'Glacier Ck'. If he did continue ENE up Glacier Ck to the ridgetop about 6200-6800, he'd find horrific cliffs below him on the N side (Pumice Ck cirque). But that doesn't seem to fit. "By nightfall I lost the trail just north of where it crosses Glacier Creek (not realizing that it crossed the creek, continuing straight instead), and dug in next to a boulder, setup camp, and hoped to find the trail in the morning. When I woke up a fresh 3-4 inches of snow had fallen. I continued to walk straight until I got on top of the ridge line. When I crested the ridge I saw no sign of trail. The ridge dropped steeply down in front of me, to my left was a steep treacherous pass, complete with shear cliffs and glaciers,..." Where was he at this point? What is this "treacherous pass, complete with sheer cliffs and glaciers..."? Could that be the 6600' pass W of Milk Lake between 6903 & 6914? Or the pass NNW of Milk Lake between 6914 & 6693? Was he up on the W--E ridge between Pts. 6903 and 6952, N of Pumice Ck? Sounds like he was well above treeline. If he tried to descend N (towards Milk Lake) or NE (towards Milk Ck valley) from there, my old map shows small glaciers there, and there still might be some. I can't identify this ridge: "...and to my right the ridge gradually descended until there were trees on it." Could that be the ridge that drops N to the Milk Lake outfall? Is it the ridge dropping N from Pt. 6952? "...I couldn't cross the pass, I didn't want to slide down into the canyon to my front (which eventually ended up happening anyway), I didn't want to back track, so I trucked down the ridge to my right hoping to find sign of the trail once I got into the trees..." If this ridge is the N ridge of Pt. 6952, he may have been trying to descend the Milk Creek headwall (the "canyon"?), between the Ptarmigan Glacier and Milk Lake tributaries. My God. Awfully steep below 5800; if that's where he was, he was amidst the tightest contours on the map around there. I recall looking up at upper Milk Ck cirque from the Milk Creek PCT switchbacks, feeling so glad I hadn't tried it... in far better conditions. That's a true survival story in nasty country. It's also my favorite country. Come visit us again, I'm Fine. In late August or early September.

Some people have better things to do with their lives than walking the dog. Some don't.
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Hulksmash
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Hulksmash
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 1:43 am 
If anything it illustrates the need to rebuild old exit points.

"Bears couldn't care less about us....we smell bad and don't taste too good. Bugs on the other hand see us as vending machines." - WetDog Albuterol! it's the 11th essential
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kbatku
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kbatku
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 9:15 am 
Like somebody mentioned earlier, I think he (and many other thru-hikers) suffer from target fixation. If ever there were a contradictory philosophy to the old adage "It's not the destination, it's the journey" this is it. Hike your own hike and all that, but really? I hike into the Goat Rocks in early/mid September every year and camp north of Elk Pass. In the dark of the evening - seven or eight o clock at night - headlight wearing thru hikers stumble happily by my camp, oblivious to the fact that they have just traversed one of the most spectacular and riveting sections of the PCT IN TOTAL DARKNESS. eek.gif confused.gif frown.gif I've got nothing but love for my thru hikers, but it always makes me wince to think of what they missed. But that's just me, and it's their hike, and like you said, maybe some day they'll come back and visit when the sun is shining and the snows not falling and they aren't on such a tight schedule to get somewhere before their food runs out.

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Snowbrushy
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 10:22 am 
kbatku wrote:
target fixation. If ever there were a contradictory philosophy..
It's like, why do they advertise stoves that will boil water in just a few moments? What's the hurry? Everybody is running around in such a hurry getting lost. I think that I'll bring a Sterno stove because I'm actually here to relax campfire.gif

Oh Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace Like thoughts inside a dream Heed the path that led me to that place Yellow desert stream.
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ranger rock
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 10:56 am 
Snowbrushy wrote:
It's like, why do they advertise stoves that will boil water in just a few moments? What's the hurry? Everybody is running around in such a hurry getting lost. I think that I'll bring a Sterno stove because I'm actually here to relax campfire.gif
If you're freezing your butt of and just want a cup of hot something.. then you'll know what the hurry is.. Keep moving or get cold.. or drink something hot fast..

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Snowbrushy
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 11:24 am 
Ranger Rock wrote:
just want a cup of hot something.. then you'll know
Great philosophy: I want therefore I shall know. I like it fast & hot. Ask her, Zen. We can get there knowingly, Oh Baby.. How would you like to make some big money of the religous variety? The lost people want to know. And they just plain want. REI want's to know.

Oh Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace Like thoughts inside a dream Heed the path that led me to that place Yellow desert stream.
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RumiDude
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 1:09 pm 
kbatku wrote:
Like somebody mentioned earlier, I think he (and many other thru-hikers) suffer from target fixation. If ever there were a contradictory philosophy to the old adage "It's not the destination, it's the journey" this is it. Hike your own hike and all that, but really?
I think a lot of this is simply a matter of his experience over-riding a sober evaluation of the situation, though target fixation, or summit fever so-to-speak, has a part. But think of all the experience through tough situations he had already had. To him, this probably just seemed one more like the rest he had successfully overcome. It is often our past experience which gets us into trouble with instances like this. We need to disregard our past experiences and freshly evaluaate each new situation. Telling ourselves we have handled situations similar to this before causes us to ignore the pressent situation's evidence.
kbatku wrote:
I hike into the Goat Rocks in early/mid September every year and camp north of Elk Pass. In the dark of the evening - seven or eight o clock at night - headlight wearing thru hikers stumble happily by my camp, oblivious to the fact that they have just traversed one of the most spectacular and riveting sections of the PCT IN TOTAL DARKNESS. I've got nothing but love for my thru hikers, but it always makes me wince to think of what they missed. But that's just me, and it's their hike, and like you said, maybe some day they'll come back and visit when the sun is shining and the snows not falling and they aren't on such a tight schedule to get somewhere before their food runs out.
At one time I wanted to attempt a PCT thruhike. But after speaking with several thrus and looking at what I would need to do in order to accomplish a PCT thruhike, I realized it really wasn't the kind od hiking/backpacking I enjoy. The accomplishment is indeed formidable, but that isn't enough to tempt me. Maybe a thruhike over the course of two years would be more my liking. I would certainly want to explore and maybe just tary a while in some places. OK, make that over three years. hahaha Like you, I totally respect thrus and the accomplishment of doing it in one long push, so-to-speak. Rumi <~~~~~~thuhiker sorta wannabe

"This is my Indian summer ... I'm far more dangerous now, because I don't care at all."
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contour5
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PostSun Dec 09, 2012 3:37 pm 
Quote:
headlight wearing thru hikers stumble happily by my camp, oblivious to the fact that they have just traversed one of the most spectacular and riveting sections of the PCT IN TOTAL DARKNESS
This has always flummoxed me as well. I sometimes tease them about what they're missing. Almost redirected a pair to Image Lake last fall, but in the end they just continued north. Made them promise to google it... I respect and admire most of the thru hikers I've met. The tenacity and resolve required to complete such a massive itinerary is almost beyond comprehension. I've hiked sections, and they pretty much wiped me out. How do you do that 20 or 30 times in a row without a break? I'm too lazy to compete with these maniacs. Hoping I can bag a few more sections before I'm done. I envy Ian Sarmento, for his accomplishment, but I'm also glad I'm not him. He missed Image Lake. I got to sit there for a couple of days and smoke my pipe... Glad it all ended well for him.

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