I'm in a full bore, heads-down training routine. Up at five. I gulp a quick coffee and power bar. Then twenty minutes for Angel's stretches; ten minutes to tape my feet and dress. Next, there's a trip to the can to empty one bladder and a trip to the kitchen to put a liter-and-a-half in the other—a zero-sum game of sorts. Then the Platypus gets slid behind the cannister into the old Mariposa. Along with the with cat liter and bathmats that comes to 30 pounds. (see The Equipment List). Once I lace up, sling on the pack and stick a Post-IT for Lilalee on the window over the phone, I'm headed out the back door to the Crest Trail. Hopefully by six.
I'm now up to three-days on, one-day off. Darn near kills me. My clothes get drenched, my legs rubbery. In the beginning, I struggled to the point that all pride was stripped away. I now make the last up hill with only a pause or two. Progress, but not yet in Sierra shape. The test is will be taking thirty-three pounds up to Mount Wilson and back. That's an eighteen miler with 4,000 foot of elevation gain.
My first ORT is just 3 weeks away. I'm ready for that. I've been looking at the map. With the drought, the passes should be clear early. I could do the loop around Cottonwood Pass to Rock Creek and back over New Army Pass. Or head over Piute Pass around to the Evolution Valley and back. Or maybe even the Rae Lake Loop out of King's Canyon. Or maybe head north to Yosemite. I can't decide.
Duane would be a good guy to talk to. I drop him an email. He's home for the holiday weeked and responds right away. He'll meet me for lunch next Wednesday.
While I'm at it, I order up the freeze-dried Sampler from Harmony Foods and a few bags for dried chicken, beef and sausage from Pack-it Gourmet. Time to nail down the recipes. One thing's for sure, I better get my food figured out or I'm not going anywhere.