The dream goes like this. I am riding in a car with a blinker that tells the driver where to go. If the blinker flashes left, we're supposed to turn left. If the blinker flashes right, we're supposed to go right. But the driver doesn't hear the blinker and we're getting farther and farther away from where we're supposed to be. I tell the driver that the blinker is blinking. He doesn't hear me. I tap him on the shoulder. He ignores me. I become afraid and try open the door. It is locked. He speeds up. Suddenly we're headed for a brick wall and I wake up. Just as well, gets me out of bed for my training hikes.
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.
It's the same old 7-mile, Crest Trail route. 700-feet up from the house under the palm trees and street lights to the Tanoble trail head. Then past the crosses where the firemen fell in '93, to the high-spot on the south shoulder of Muir peak with its view of the backyards and the neighbors leaving for work. Then 700-feet down the twisted, eroded slopes, past the fire-proof house, across the Eaton Creek bridge and up 500 feet up the Toll Road to the picnic area. After a ten minute break on an 'L-shaped' tree near the pee zone, it's 600, steep feet down Rattlesnake Trail to the park road and around to the bridge. From there, doubleback up the Crest Trial to the Tanoble trailhead. I can get home around 9, about an hour after Lilalee leaves for work.
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.