Preparations, Probably a Little Early

Good news!  Lola is on board for the Colorado Trail thru-hike next summer.

When I first suggested the idea she said she would be interested in doing a few segments of the trail, maybe two weeks' worth.  Over the past few days she's become kind of excited about the thing and, as of today, wants to at least attempt the whole thing with me. John has yet to commit. But what about our dog, Milo?  What do we do with him while we are hiking?

(I am pretty sure that I have neglected to mention that Roxy, our first and best dog, died last November.  It devastated us as much a losing a dog can, which is not a little.  She died of a particularly swift and nasty anemia that put her fuzzy little black and white dog body at odds with itself.  Less than 48 hours after the diagnosis we had to put her to sleep.  This of course was after the veterinarian had raped us for all the money he could get.  Two sad months later we adopted Milo, who might be part Catahoula Leopard Dog, part something else and then another one to three parts other things.

Pictured below is Roxy in happier times, waiting sweetly for us to leave a campground and go home where the soft bed is.  No doubt she is also thinking about going to town on a beef rib bone or maybe working hard at making a spoon full of creamy peanut butter disappear.)

Originally, when I had the idea of a thru hike not even half-assedly formed, I imagined John and me doing the length of the trail with Lola and Milo meeting us at one of the more picturesque segments for a couple of weeks of hiking.  Every five days or so, because we can only carry so much food on our backs, we would descend from the trail to some mountain town to resupply, which means hitch-hiking into town (adventure!), grabbing a proper dinner, staying the night in a hostel and hitching back to the trail head (or as close as we can get) the next morning.  Having a dog with us would present some logistical issues in all these endeavors.

(Here is a picture of Milo napping when he was just a pup, maybe three months old.  He's a good looking little man, but a willful little son-of-a-bitch.)

This seemed like a good, manageable, short-term plan...that the dog would hoof it with us only for a short period and we would work around the logistical problems he posed during that time.  But now Lola wants to attempt the entire 486 miles with me.  I am happy about that, butMilo won't be manageable the whole way.

It might be possible to have Lola's aunt and uncle--who live here in town--keep him for the duration of the trip.  They are really nice people who lost their dog a few years ago and have not gotten a new one, so it's likely that they might enjoy some doggie company.  We'll have to see.  There is plenty of time to figure all this out.

Anyway, I have spent a happy and absurd amount of time researching the gear needed for this thru hike in the past two weeks.  I could tell you in nauseating detail all about the pros and cons of closed cell foam sleeping pads vs inflatable pads,  butane canister powered stoves vs homemade cat food tin alcohol stoves,  gravity filter hydration systems vs ultraviolet light vs chemical vs hand pumped filters, compass orienteering vs gps vs nothing at all, why two pairs of underwear are plenty for five weeks of sweaty up- and down-hilling, which backpack designs are good for multi-day hikes like the Colorado Trail and which ones will make you cry before day two is over, the difference between double- and single-walled tents, why dehydrating and vacuum sealing your food ahead of time is a smart idea, etc.

The pictures below show some of the more interesting items I have decided upon after reading dozens of thru hiking articles and gear reviews, reading Cheryl Strayed's "Wild" (her account of a Pacific Coast Trail thru hike), watching countless videos about sock thickness, waterproof hiking shoes and titanium cookware, and even attending one lecture given by a woman who hiked the entire CT this summer detailing her experiences.  Nothing is final, though, and these items may finally end up not making the cut.  But for now they seem right.

My favorite piece of gear so far:  The Tarptent Stratospire 2.  Made by a hyper-small company based in California, this tent is a cleverly conceived two-person netted shelter that weighs a feather-like 48 ounces (significantly under the two-pounds-per-person shelter recommendation of seasoned thru hikers).  The Stratospire 2 uses trekking poles in place of tent poles and since we will be using poles on our journey anyway we save weight and space by using gear in multiple applications.  This is one way we can--at least a little--save our backs and legs some unnecessary agony ascending (and descending) 89,000 vertical feet over 486 miles.

The Sea To Summit Trek II down sleeping bag.  Weighing in at 39 ounces (including its compression sack that makes it easier to cram into the backpack) it will keep me cozy and warm down to 18 degrees Fahrenheit.  It's a bit heavy by thru hike standards, but my feet really like to thrash around while I'm sleeping and this bag gives a little extra room for them to do just that, unlike the lighter weight mummy-style bags which I do not sleep soundly in.  I will happily carry a few extra ounces to let my legs do whatever it is they do when my sleep-brain is sending them ridiculous orders.

The Sawyer Mini water filter.  Pure genius.  Muddy, bacteria- and protozoa-infested bleh water goes in one end...clear, pathogen-free, refreshing water comes out the other end.  Easy as pie at only 3.4 ounces.

The MSR Pocket Rocket.  Sounds gay, right?  You bet it does.  What it also does is boil a cup of cold river water in just over a minute.  If that's what gay is then I am on board.

The Suunto M-3 compass.  To be honest we probably don't need a compass or gps or anything like that because the trail is well-marked and we'll have the Colorado Trail Databook with us that will let us know about any potential confusion.  On the other hand, you would be a fool to go deep into the wilderness without anything to tell you which way is north. Have you accidentally strayed off the main trail and found yourself on an unmarked animal trail?  These mountains are serious business so you had better find your way back.  Step off the trail to poop and lose your bearings?  More bad news.

Speaking of which:

I just ordered this baby today (the picture below, not the pooper scooper above):  The Osprey Exos 58.  It is considered a lightweight (but not ultralight) backpack weighing in at 2# 10 oz and is very comfy holding 25-30 pounds, the amount of weight I filled it with at REI to test it.  Many long distance packs are built lightly, sacrificing bulky shoulder strap padding, doing away with structural support, 86ing superfluous pockets, bells and/or whistles...things that hardcore hikers certainly enjoy but are willing to give up in the name of weight savings. It's a design compromise.  Less weight means less burden, but it also means the pack is unable to manage high pack weights comfortably.  With these light packs it becomes imperative that the backpacker reduce his total pack weight if it is to be effective.  If he doesn't then he pays the price with pain. This pack, the Exos 58, lives in the middle...somewhere between ultralight and whatever the next thing up in weight is called. I don't expect to ever be carrying more than 30 pounds, though, so even when freshly loaded up with food and water it should do the trick.

I really hope this pack works out for me.  It is light, it possesses just the right amount of volume for what I will be carrying, it has a sufficient but not absurd number of bells and whistles (it literally has a whistle integrated into one of the buckles) and, perhaps most importantly, it is on sale for 25% off.   Bonus:   it includes a free backpack cover for the rainy times.

I do not now nor have I ever believed in God, but please God make this backpack one with my poor, unsuspecting back, shoulders and hips.  If you do I won't promise that I'll make fun of you less, but I will promise that in the next year I...

Stop.  I'm not going to promise anything.  If it turns out this pack doesn't work for me I'll just return it for a full refund within one year of purchase.  Thanks, REI.  Your return policy is much better than God's is.