Last winter Justin ‘Trauma’ Lichter and his partner Shawn ‘Pepper’ Forry completed the first winter thru hike of the Pacific Crest Trail.  For those unfamiliar with the “PCT” it is a 2650 mile trail from Canada to Mexico that cuts through 3 US states including Washington, Oregon and California.  This diverse trail crosses deserts, mountain ranges, deep forests, glaciers and volcanic peaks, and is considered one of the most difficult hikes in the world….in the summer!

For the western US states the winter of 2014-15 was very mild compared to normal winters.  Many areas reported record low snowpack, which might lead one to believe that this would be a great year to attempt a winter thru hike on the PCT.  However, it turns out the lack of snowfall and unpredictable weather patterns were a major challenge that almost forced Trauma and Pepper to abandon their expedition.  Not too long after starting in Washington, Trauma and Pepper found themselves caught in an unexpected storm that left them debilitated with frostbite.  Later on the trail they had to ditch their ski touring setup (due to lack of snowpack) and rely on snowshoe travel, which takes more time and burns more calories.  Thru hiking in the winter is filled with challenges, especially when it comes to food.

For many long stretches, the PCT is a desolate trail that cuts through uninhabited wilderness.  Trauma and Pepper often went weeks without seeing another person.  Many small towns with re-supply stations along the PCT close for the winter, which meant Trauma and Pepper had to be meticulous with their meal planning.  Cold weather and minimal pack space greatly limited the types of food Trauma and Pepper could eat.  According to Trauma, “our breaks were centered around eating. Any time we stopped we would spend that time ingesting calories. And if we took a break we couldn’t sit still very long because of the cold, so we had to keep moving.”  The most efficient calories came from conveniently stored nutrition bars.  The guys rotated between Lara Bar, Pro Bar and Kind Bar and ate 10 bars each per day, receiving 1/3 of their daily calories from bars.

Cooking at night proved to be another serious challenge.  Often times Trauma and Pepper had to melt snow for the next days water supply, since they frequently did not have a running water supply available.  Due to the terrible snowpack there was often “sugary” snow, which does not hold much water content and takes up to 2 hours to boil down for the next days needed water supply.  After a long day of hard work, the guys were often hungry, tired and ready to sleep, but had to commit an extra two hours of work to melt water.  This left little time for cooking dinner.  Trauma and Pepper relied on quick one-pot calorie dense-meals such as, Top Ramen, Knorr Sides, angel hair pasta, cheese, beef jerky, instant mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, or any combination of these.  Trauma was especially a fan of the instant mashed potatoes because they can be made without bringing the water to a boil, which saved time and fuel.

Snacks were another essential in their backcountry pantry.  While dinner was cooking or snow was melting, Trauma would often snack on chocolate chips, Justin’s Hazelnut Butter, and Justin’s single serving almond butters.  The single serving packets were especially handy because they were easy to ingest and provided quick calories to his tired body.

In addition to making food, getting supplies was often another daunting task.  Trauma and Pepper had to hike miles off the trail to find open grocery stores or to access post offices with re-supply boxes that they had mailed to themselves before they embarked on their journey.  One much appreciated surprise came from a ‘trail angel’ who hiked miles to leave an anonymous supply box at a remote location.  Even though they were often isolated, the support from the PCT trail community was received throughout Trauma and Pepper’s trip.

After an astonishingly fast 132 days Trauma and Pepper reached the US/Mexico boarder to complete the first successful winter thru hike of the PCT.  As they signed the book at the end they were greeted by friends, family, and a champagne celebration to end their historic journey.

Check out the Adventure Dining Guide episode to learn more about Trauma’s PCT cooking challenges.

What do you do when you want to go camping or backpacking and there is a fire ban in effect? On this episode you will learn how to prepare “Fire Ban Tacos”, a no-cook alternative to camping without a fire.

You know those items of clothing where your friend or sibling finally says, “When is the last time you washed that thing?” Or better yet, “Do you ever take that off?” Yeah, you know what I’m talking about…

The Sambaya Stretch Fleece is that item of clothing. I was fortunate enough to acquire this fleece several weeks ago before a trek to Escalante, Utah. With temperatures dropping below 20 degrees at night, this was the perfect go-to item to throw on top of some thermals. The best part of this warm and insanely soft zip-up is the hood! I love hoods, and it seems rare to find them attached to technical layers. The Cotopaxi Sambaya takes quality and fashion into account. To note, I tested this in a size medium in the color Capri. This item runs pretty true to size and I could have probably gotten away with a size small, but this works perfectly for layering!

The Polartec Power Stretch fleece fabric keeps you dry, regulates body temperature, and is breathable.  The design allows you to keep that womanly figure and camp in style, with it’s long fit (just below your hips) and long sleeves with thumb-hole cuffs (LOVE!). It’s fitted, but has enough room for several base-layers underneath. It has two big pockets to keep your hands warm or to store snacks for your day hike, along with an internal stash pocket and a small breast pocket for smaller items. The Sambaya comes in two bright colors (Capri or Terracotta) that are vibrant and match everything or black (Raven) which will be my next purchase. I can’t say enough about this fleece, it’s performance quality is great for outdoor expeditions and it’s stylish enough for causal use while tripping around town. My only wish is that it could also block wind a bit, but the breath-ability makes up for it!

Bonus? Each purchase of the Sambaya Fleece provides 1 cancer treatment for a patient in Senegal. If you are going to purchase gear, might as well feel good about it and give back while doing it.

*Disclaimer: Cotopaxi provided the author with the Sambaya Fleece as a sample product (at no cost) in order for us to test. 

Buy the Cotopaxi Sambaya Fleece from Cotopaxi.com

SPECS

Learn how to make an Australian camp bread called “Damper” from free ski legend Keri Herman.

Day two, we overslept. It was only 8 AM but we missed our window of opportunity to climb and ski anything of significance. We conceded that the day would be better served by setting up an auxiliary camp close to some of our targets as well as observing the snow and sun movement in order to have a more educated idea of our possibilities. The basis of our conversations the night before revolved around the large, open north-west face of the peak looker’s right of Kickstep. Due the sun’s movement, we figured our magic window would be between noon and one, just after the sun began to hit the slope. Anything before would be rock hard ice, anything after would be too soft and run the risk of wet slides.

There we were digging again, not skiing. Pausing for lunch, we were treated to a fireworks show of sorts. It was just before three and like clockwork, southerly and easterly faces around us let go of what was left of the snowpack. Our serenity was interrupted by what sounded like jet engines echoing around the valley every five minutes. They served as stark reminders of the omnipresent dangers that exist in the mountains, amplified by below average snowpack and above average temperatures. After lunch and some impromptu nude foot races, we put our gear back on and collectively skied some fun, low-angle terrain before returning to camp and calling it a day.

Up before the dawn, the four of us set out on the day’s mission. As we reached Camp II, Lange, Sage, and myself continued towards the ridge as Sales remained behind with the promise of hot pancakes and bacon upon our return. The three of us traversed along a route that alternated between snow and exposed tundra on the way to the base of the ridge. We decided the quickest way up the ridge would be to boot pack so we strapped up and began the hike. Lange took point and broke trail – MVP of the day. The ridge was a lot longer than it looked but after an hour of solid hiking, we made it to the top.

The sun had yet to hit the face and sure enough, it was frozen solid. We found a cozy plot of exposed tundra to rest our legs as we cracked jokes about what Sales had been doing by himself for the past four hours. Over the radio, Sales’ voice crackled, “Okay, you guys ready to drop?” Our reply was concise and resounding, “No dude, it’s rock hard!” I awoke from a nap about an hour later, slightly startled at my surroundings. This place is indescribably beautiful with layers upon layers of mountains as far as I could see. Testing the snow, it was go time.

One by one, we descended the ridge to the top of the open face. I won – or lost, depending on your view point – rock, paper, scissors for first drop. Pointing down the fall-line, I made a few cautious turns as I approached the blind roll-over. Feeling confident with the perfect corn beneath my skis, I raced down the remainder of the slope and raised my arms in elation as I made one final arc towards the direction of camp. In a safe spot, I cheered as I watched my two friends snake down the two-thousand foot face at high speeds.

Stoke was high as we rendezvoused at Camp II. Sure enough, we had hot pancakes and bacon waiting for us. Jet engines signaled that the day was done, but we didn’t mind. One run was all that we needed. That feeling still hadn’t worn off as we sat around the fire that night on our three-piece sectional made out of snow. Returning to Anchorage the following day to see Sage off on his journey for higher education, we took the time to recoup, refuel, and resupply. Real furniture that wasn’t constructed out of snow sure was a welcome sight.

Check out the beginning of this series in Part I of the Myst crew’s Alaska trip report.

Four season tent – check. Skis, boots, skins – check. Beacon, shovel, probe – check. Harness, rope, ice screws, crampons, axe – check. Beer, whiskey – check. Reindeer sausage – check. “You sure all of this will fit?” Camera gear, radios, stove – check. We sat in Sage’s basement meticulously packing all of our gear into the sled and respective packs. Preceding this was a full day of frantic running around Anchorage ensuring that nothing was forgotten for five days of camping and skiing. By mid-afternoon, we set off along the Seward Highway en route to our destination.

I was taken aback by the surrounding scenery as we drove along the Turnagain Arm. This was the first time that I have ever witnessed such dramatic peaks arise immediately from the ocean. Sales informed me that this body of water has some of the most dramatic tidal ranges in the world. As the tide ebbs and flows during the colder months of the year, car-sized blocks of ice will be traveling along the inlet as if they were another vehicle on the highway. No such frozen cars today, but there was a fair share (read: more than one) bald eagles flying overhead – perhaps an omen of good things to come.

A short ninety minute drive had us at the turn-off where we would embark. The route we selected was a fairly mellow skin that would have us at the planned campsite well before sundown. In hindsight, we should have left in the morning allowing easier transport of our sled, which at this point weighed well over a hundred pounds. Our timing was largely centered on Sage returning to Anchorage in a few days to board a flight to Chicago for the start of med school, leaving us with no choice but to depart this afternoon. Sage bravely volunteered as the first sled mule and we set off at a less-than blistering pace along half-frozen, half-cream corn snow. Less than five hundred yards from the start, the sled had already tipped over, requiring two of us to assist in getting it back upright. This was going to take a lot more effort than we had originally hoped.

Spirits were high despite the slog. Smiles visible, jokes aplenty, even as we lifted the sled upright time and time again. Two hours in, after some bushwhacking and a change of course, I hopped in the saddle despite knowledge of some inclines ahead. This wasn’t so bad. Aside from a few tip-overs here and there, it was relatively smooth sailing complete with a hundred pounds strapped to my hips. We approached our first sustained climb for about a half mile, maybe a fifteen to twenty degree slope at its steepest point. This climb might as well have been vertical. In the two hours it took us to get to this point, it required another two hours to ascend a quarter of that distance. At its worst, Lange was carrying Sage’s skis as Sage pushed the sled from behind because I could no longer get the thing to move under my own power. The smile was gone from my face. By the time we crested the ridge, it had been five hours since we left the car. Exhausted from two hours reminiscent of power sled workouts for soccer, I handed sled duty over to Lange for the final push as I basked in my new found fleet-footedness.

Still short of our intended campsite, we settled on a level plot of land sheltered by tall trees on all sides. As the other three began to dig a solar well and pit for our fire, I set off on a brief recon mission to see where we ended up. Fifteen minutes above camp, I first got eyes on Kickstep and the surrounding zone. It was just as it was described to me, except for the fact that the spine face to the north was all but melted out and wet slide debris was visible on just about every aspect of the compass. Changing over, a smile came back to my face as I linked some downhill turns through the trees back to camp. Finally! I made my first turns in Alaska.

Part III of the Myst crew’s Alaska trip report is up next.
In case you missed it, check out Part I of the Myst crew’s Alaska trip report.

Fifteen hours into a day that will be burned into my memory forever, I paused amidst watching Nick Langelotti manhandle our gear sled down a now-grassy slope. I thought about the Alaska I optimistically envisioned before I landed in Anchorage – you know, the Alaska that you’ve seen in just about any form of ski media ever published. I was standing there, thinking about the raid about to ensue at the Girdwood Tesoro station, if we ever got there. Knee deep in a frozen porridge, I was more exhausted, cold, and hungry than I have ever been in my entire life. Just after midnight, I collapsed on the gravel parking lot we had departed from 18 hours prior. It was simultaneously the best and worst ski day of my life and is the embodiment of my first trip to Alaska.

Rewind three weeks to a Taco Tuesday meeting at Spedelli’s in Salt Lake City, Lange, Eric Sales, and myself met up to discuss our plans and expectations for the trip. The idea was to tour into a zone at the foot of Kickstep Mountain in the Turnagain Pass region of the Chugach Mountains. From there – on a good year – we could tour to a multitude of options including spine faces, open bowls, and even an attempt on summiting Kickstep. This was not a good year, with mountain ranges in Southern Alaska seeing snowpack levels well below average for late April. Upon landing in Anchorage, it became clear that we would have to dial back pretty much all of our expectations.

We were picked up at the airport by Sage Gale, Sales’ college buddy who grew up just outside Anchorage. Sage’s contributions to the trip are priceless as his family took us in and allowed us to stay in their basement for two weeks. Shortly after arriving at Sage’s home, we were in the hot tub in the backyard with local Alaskan brews in hand. Catching up and ragging on each other, I interrupted the conversation by pointing out a faint, grey-green streak dancing in the sky above me. Sage assured me that it was probably a cloud, and that he had only seen The Lights this far south only a handful of times. I was not convinced and the longer we gazed, the more we began to realize that this was indeed a solar event. We hopped into dry clothes and cruised thirty minutes north to get further away from any light pollution.

This couldn’t be happening. Surely, within two hours of being in Alaska I was witnessing one of Mother Nature’s greatest shows for the first time in my life. We stood there in awe. Sales taking exposure shots, naturally. The grey-green streak had turned into green waves gently moving across the sky. We watched for about an hour before the full day of travel had caught up with us and we decided to turn in. There was quite a bit of work to do over the next two days to prepare our gear and supplies for the coming days. We were there to ski after all, although beers and a hot tub were pretty enticing.

Some pictures from a 3 day backpacking trip to Desolation Wilderness in the Sierras.  Echo Lake, Upper Echo, Lake of the Woods, Lake Aloha.

Montana trip with the boys: We were camping just outside of Bozeman, Montana and were running the Gallatin (by house rock). On the down time, we were either fly fishing or slacklining and there was a ton of climbing being done also. Was a very successful trip!!!!

Going to bed doesn’t usually feel like the greatest feat of the day – it’s often the moment when you can finally indulge in relaxation. However, during “The Houseless Chronicles”, at times, bedtime could reveal itself as just the opposite. Whether it’s playing long games of life size Tetris with the majority of your belongings or not, the adventure to visit Mr. Sandman can actually take days. Or at least it seemed like. I remember a couple of nights being ready to melt into my tiny mattress around 8pm or 10pm – or whatever – and having to search for hours finding a suitable parking spot. You ask yourself; will any security guard want to find me here? Does that spot have too many bright lights around it? Do we have to pay to be here? Where is the free land? Why can’t I park here? Are we in America?