When Things Go Wrong with: Common Preparatory Mistakes

Last time, we had fun talking about some of the misconceptions and dangers people have about running into wild animals in the back-country. As promised, this installment will be concerning some of the Common Preparatory Mistakes a novice hiker might unconsciously commit, as well as answers to questions like: “What if I get lost?”

Without further ado:

 

Hike Your Own Hike

Granted it's a cheezy maxim but there is some truth in there. Even after having logged a significant amount of time on the trail, I still get the inevitable anticipation early on in my hike that I like to call the “Where are we going?” reflex. Hiking is more about the actual hike than the destination but it takes a while to appreciate this, even for the experienced hiker. After all, usually you're just walking and walking and walking past trees and trees and more trees and the occasional rock. It can seem a tad repetitive.

How each individual hiker learns to appreciate nature is their own business and a large part of the appeal of backpacking. I won't get into that here—but I will caution that the Where Are We Going reflex can have some negative physical consequences outside of making the early part of the hike seem anti-climatic.

A hiker who is too enthusiastic in the early part of a hike—too eager to get somewhere—will not enjoy the hike and will expend vital physical and mental energy. During times like these, it is important to remember that if you are lugging weight on your back and walking at a significant pace, you are most certainly exercising. Though it may seem like you are just walking, even if you are not carrying weight, it is important to be physically prepared for a hike. Know the way your body will react to extreme physical activity so that you can regulate how much energy you are expanding—which usually means “slow down, there isn't a Hardee's at the end of the trail brah”.

When you do hit the trail, it is important to hike your own hike—go at your own pace, find your comfortable stride, and, for goodness sake, stop and take in the ever changing landscape every once in a while. Just remember that it's better than being on a treadmill.

Camel Up

On my last back-packing trip, I decided to try an experiment—something that is popular on the Pacific Crest Trail where it might be a hundred miles between water sources. This technique is referred to as Camel Up. This is more an insider tip than a precautionary tool, although in certain terrains where water sources are scarce or far apart, it may be necessary. 

The basic idea is to drink as much water as you can comfortably stomach—and then drink more. And just keep drinking until you're ready to hit the trail. Granted you will be peeing on every other tree but you won't need to carry as much water because you will be full of water. It just makes sense. In areas where water sources are scarce, it may be necessary to carry more water than you usually would or to cache water before hand in certain hidden locations along the trail. Ultimately, water is incredibly important on the trail so however you get it, always make sure that you have enough.

A Serious Drinking Problem

There is something ennobling about finding a water source in the back-country. A common concern among novice hikers is water availability and quality. There are (usually) no water fountains on the trail. But drinking from a mountain spring is a deeply satisfying endeavor that can't be duplicated in civilization.

Finding water is one thing, but once you find it, you still may not be satisfied. Water quality in the back-country is fickle. Sometimes it's burbling straight out of the face of a mountain. Other times, you're using your bandanna as a sponge to get at three-day old rain-water collected in the concavities of tree-trunks. Ewww.

Where ever you get it, water should always be treated somehow. Filter, boil, or add a chemical. Hell, do all three. Some hikers boast of drinking straight from the source like burly mountain men. I've read reports of Giardia and all the other wonderful waterborne nasties and from what I've heard, it feels kind of like you've had your insides taken out, dropped in a blender, burned, and then placed back into your eviscerated abdomen.

That being said, know how to use your treatment method before you are relying on it in the back-country—and if you are using chemicals, know how you react to their inclusion in your drinking water. Dad and I had a scary incident on the AT involving iodine water treatment tablets. The packaging specifically lists the tablets as being “good for camping.” According to the CDC's website, Iodine is not recommended for pregnant women, people with thyroid problems, those with known hypersensitivity to iodine, or continuous use for more than a few weeks at a time.

After using Iodine for two days, we were both feeling queasy and unsteady, not a good way to be in the middle of Nowhere, Georgia. We decided to boil our water for the rest of the trip, which was a great idea until we ran out of fuel. Still a day out from the ranger station and without a reliable means to purify water, we started rationing. On the last day, we had a five mile hike over two mountains back into Amicalola State Park. We drank the last of our water before breaking camp and stumbled over the mountains in the exhausting June heat. Water out of a public bathroom faucet never tasted so good.

That's Why You Always Leave a Note

I enjoy hiking by myself. I prefer to have a companion but occasionally, the solitude of the trail is necessary to heal the wounds inflicted by civilized life. When hiking alone in particular, it is extremely important to let a friend or family member know so that in the event that you walk off the side of a mountain, people will have a general idea of where to search for your corpse. 

When I was in college, I would frequently get the urge to escape the bustle of Tampa and get out to the trail. The Old Fort King Trail north of USF near Hillsborough River State Park is an exceptionally enjoyable trail that travels through some remote hardwood flood-plain forests as part of the Lower Hillsborough Wilderness Preserve. I went there so often that my roommate kept a copy of the trail map and the phone number of the State Park handy in the event that I didn't return. This is always just about the best thing you can do before tramping off into the wild. So many back-country tragedies would have ended differently if people would just remember to always leave a note.

Getting lost is usually pretty high on the list of novice fears about hiking. Most public trails are blazed and those that aren't are probably not the place to learn how to hike. A map is always useful as is a compass or at least a general idea of where you're going. However, should you look up and out of a deep thought to discover that you are no longer on the trail, the best thing to do is to stop and try to get your barrings. If you're really lost, sit down, maybe make some noise, and settle in. If you left a schedule of your trip, you probably won't have to wait more than a few hours. If you packed smart, you should have everything you need in your pack to survive a few uncomfortable hours in the back-country.

Which brings us to our next point—

Back-country Insurance

Since acts of god aren't usually covered in life insurance, about the closest thing to peace of mind you can have in the back-country is knowing that you're well prepared and ready to take on whatever devices of lethal cunning Mother Nature decides to throw your way.

However, no one wants to be the hiker overburdened with crap.

The best way to travel in the back-country is light. I like to make my own gear as much as possible and this little nifty gizmo is probably the most important piece I've made yet (a close second would be the beer-can stove I will be talking about in a later post).

Now—I know what you're thinking. What the hell do I need with a commemorative Celestial Seasons Sleepy Time Tea Tin covered in painter's tape? Well, guess what suckers? This little bad boy is about as close to back-country insurance as you can get.

The tape serves as a water seal but is also useful for fixing rips in your gear. Normally, I would use duct tape but the painter's tape works better for illustration.

What you have is a very compact survival kit or, as I like to refer to it, the Shit-Just-Got-Real-Tin.

Inside, I have

-combination compass/magnifying glass

-candle/wax tipped matches(waterproof)

-Thick sewing needle and several meters of fishing line

-a fishing lure (I would prefer a couple hooks but the big red thing was all I could find in the shed)

-gauze

-ibuprofen

-bismuth tablets

-benedryl

-antiseptic pads

This little nifty gizmo is a combination compass and magnifying glass and just about the coolest thing ever.

I would like to add a bit more to the first-aid section including emergency chlorine tablets, a straight razor, and a wire-saw. I would need a larger case though as my nifty little tea tin is already bulging at center. An Altoids tin would also work well. 

So, that will about do it for this week. Tune in to our next post as we conclude the When Things Go Wrong  series with a section on Weather related issues.  

Now go take a hike!