There are two types of suffering.
Firstly, you have the suffering that comes with a reward. You know the type. You're halfway up a 14er and your legs and lungs are burning something fierce, above treeline and the sun is baking you into oblivion, the scree and talus are loose as shit and you're losing your mind because you slide backwards half a step for every step forward. Then you get to the top and god damn, it was worth it. Right? It's more than just a scenic vista, it's that feeling of accomplishment, of fulfillment, and without the suffering, you just wouldn't have it. The suffering actually is the means to the end. It's the kind that makes you feel more alive.
Then there's suffering type two. The one difference is this: there is no reward. There is no fulfillment for enduring. It's just seemingly endless punishment for no real reason. And you have no choice in the matter. You just suffer, because what else can you do? You suffer or you die. Sometimes that's what survival looks like, suffering. And so you escape into whatever you can, drugs, alcohol, even your own mind. Maybe insanity will offer some reprieve if reality is just too abhorrent. There is no summit, no vista, no reward.
And that's where I'm at right now. A part of my body is actively betraying me at all times. Why? I don't know. And doctors can't or won't tell me. I've tried every type of self medication, from the most wild new agey to the most normie conventional shit. I will literally do anything to feel better. I will do anything to alleviate some of the searing pain in my insides. As if a blacksmith stuck me in the stomach with a molten hot poker. But you know what? I don't want to escape. I don't want to lose myself to drugs or alcohol or even insanity. I don't want to just survive. I want to thrive, and I'll accept nothing less. But it's hard to keep a positive attitude when there's no real end in sight.
Today, I was on the phone with my dad, and I asked him, "What if this is it? What if I never feel any better than I feel right now? What if it just gets worse from here on out?" And then it hit me, that I need to be prepared to answer those questions.
I can't stop dwelling on those thoughts. Fuck, I hope it's not true. I'm only 27 years old, and I have so many plans, so many adventures, so much life left to live... But life isn't fair and I could easily find that all of those plans have gone down the shitter, robbed from me in the blink of an eye.
So ask yourself the same questions, ask yourself what you would do if you knew your heath, your physical condition was only going to get worse. Would you sit here and stare at this fucking screen? Would you go into work and make food for assholes for 10 dollars an hour? Would you keep sacrificing today for the myth of tomorrow? Because maybe tomorrow isn't fucking coming. I know that's cliche as fuck, and I don't mean that a car is going to drive through your house and kill you in the middle of reading this. I mean that no matter how you prepare, at some point life is going to kick you in the fucking teeth. And yeah, you can prepare accordingly, you can save up money preparing for the inevitable and never take any risks, but what does that get you besides mediocrity? If there's one thing worse than death, it's mediocrity.
So here's the deal, I have a colonoscopy scheduled on Monday morning. It might be the first time in almost a year that I gain some insight into what affliction is ruining my life, which could be fucking amazing. It could also be the worst day of my life. I could receive some very very bad news on Monday. But I promise you this, whatever they say to me, I will not sacrifice what remains of this body and this mind, the only vehicle through which I've ever been able to experience this beautiful, horrible, wonderful, awful thing called life. I will die before I succumb to mediocrity. I'll go down in fucking flames doing what I love.
If I'm going to suffer, I'm going to do it on my own terms.
VEGAN on the AT
Friday, April 15, 2016
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Know your enemy.
Hey there.
It's been awhile, I know. Pull up a chair.
I am still sick. I still don't know what I'm sick with. Are y'all sick (ha) of hearing about this yet? Who cares, this is my blog, deal with it.
Want to see what my life looks like? It looks like this:
It looks like not eating sugar, or grains, or legumes, or caffeine, or ANYTHING FUN. I'm vegan, do you know how hard it is to do that? DO YOU? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA? God damn it's hard.
Anyhow, I have a gastroenterologist appointment on April 12th. If you are very poor and don't have insurance it is very very hard to see a gastroenterologist. Hence why it's taken me six fucking months to see one. Hopefully they will be able to tell me what's wrong with m body, maybe even help me help myself, and then maybe I'll be able to move on with my life.
In the meantime I've taken tests. Lots of tests. Lots of tests that cost lots of money. Blood tests, stool tests, etc. They've all come back negative. Negative for what? Oh, everything. You name it. Parasites, ova, candida, h. pylori, blasto hominis, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. My blood tests? They look fine. The only abnormality I've heard from a medical professional's mouth is that I "have a slightly below normal white blood cell count". Great, does that mean anything? I don't know. It doesn't seem like my tests aren't indicative of anything insidious, and I honestly think all of the doctors I've seen up until this point aren't very concerned because it appears that I'm in great health. And maybe I am. Except for, you know, the fucking severe muscle spasms that happen in and underneath my abdominals, the crippling side and back pain that I experience for no real reason, the inability to eat anything without immediate consequences such as unexplained burning pain all throughout my gastrointestinal tract or the sharp stabbing pain in my descending colon, the inability to pass stool or gas and the accompanying pain and bloating that brings. You know, other than those minor concerns, I'm doing great.
Needless to say, it has been difficult to work, difficult to exercise, difficult to eat, difficult to fucking live. But regardless, this illness hasn't killed me. I'm still alive and I still have hope. I still have plans, god damnit.
These are the things I know: I am sick. On April 12th a medical professional will tell me what sort of weird alien has decided to inhabit my body and ruin my life. Immediate after, I will dedicate my life to eradicating said alien, armed with accurate and important information about my enemy. I will hit them where they're weakest and refuse to do anything to bolster their strength. I'll flush their fucking ass down the toilet and say good riddance. Then I will mark down this time, these last six months, as the worst six months, past or future, of my life.
Then, May 7th will come around, and if you happen to be in Campo, California on this day, perhaps you'll see me. I'll be standing at the border of Mexico, at the new PCT terminus, reading through endless amounts of overused John Muir quotes left by previous thruhikers before signing my name and leaving an equally overused quote by someone that I'd at least like to think is a little more obscure. Then I'll start walking. I won't stop until I hit Canada, and then just for shits I'll put a couple more miles in.
These are the things I know: In my darkest moments, I think maybe thruhiking is a thing of my past, regardless of however bad I want it. Why? Because my body just won't allow it anymore. But guess what. I am an incredibly determined person, and I never compromise on any promise I make to myself. And I made myself a fucking promise. We are all going to fucking die someday, but I'm not dead yet, and regardless of whatever some asshole doctor says to me on April 12th, I'm going to hike the motherfucking PCT this year, even if it means eating nothing but raw pumpkin seeds and kale the whole fucking way.
See y'all out there.
It's been awhile, I know. Pull up a chair.
I am still sick. I still don't know what I'm sick with. Are y'all sick (ha) of hearing about this yet? Who cares, this is my blog, deal with it.
Want to see what my life looks like? It looks like this:
 |
| Plus all the other supplements that I've already taken and thrown away in the last half year. Not picture, all of the RAW GARLIC THAT I EAT WHOLE EVERY DAY. |
Anyhow, I have a gastroenterologist appointment on April 12th. If you are very poor and don't have insurance it is very very hard to see a gastroenterologist. Hence why it's taken me six fucking months to see one. Hopefully they will be able to tell me what's wrong with m body, maybe even help me help myself, and then maybe I'll be able to move on with my life.
In the meantime I've taken tests. Lots of tests. Lots of tests that cost lots of money. Blood tests, stool tests, etc. They've all come back negative. Negative for what? Oh, everything. You name it. Parasites, ova, candida, h. pylori, blasto hominis, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. My blood tests? They look fine. The only abnormality I've heard from a medical professional's mouth is that I "have a slightly below normal white blood cell count". Great, does that mean anything? I don't know. It doesn't seem like my tests aren't indicative of anything insidious, and I honestly think all of the doctors I've seen up until this point aren't very concerned because it appears that I'm in great health. And maybe I am. Except for, you know, the fucking severe muscle spasms that happen in and underneath my abdominals, the crippling side and back pain that I experience for no real reason, the inability to eat anything without immediate consequences such as unexplained burning pain all throughout my gastrointestinal tract or the sharp stabbing pain in my descending colon, the inability to pass stool or gas and the accompanying pain and bloating that brings. You know, other than those minor concerns, I'm doing great.
Needless to say, it has been difficult to work, difficult to exercise, difficult to eat, difficult to fucking live. But regardless, this illness hasn't killed me. I'm still alive and I still have hope. I still have plans, god damnit.
These are the things I know: I am sick. On April 12th a medical professional will tell me what sort of weird alien has decided to inhabit my body and ruin my life. Immediate after, I will dedicate my life to eradicating said alien, armed with accurate and important information about my enemy. I will hit them where they're weakest and refuse to do anything to bolster their strength. I'll flush their fucking ass down the toilet and say good riddance. Then I will mark down this time, these last six months, as the worst six months, past or future, of my life.
Then, May 7th will come around, and if you happen to be in Campo, California on this day, perhaps you'll see me. I'll be standing at the border of Mexico, at the new PCT terminus, reading through endless amounts of overused John Muir quotes left by previous thruhikers before signing my name and leaving an equally overused quote by someone that I'd at least like to think is a little more obscure. Then I'll start walking. I won't stop until I hit Canada, and then just for shits I'll put a couple more miles in.
These are the things I know: In my darkest moments, I think maybe thruhiking is a thing of my past, regardless of however bad I want it. Why? Because my body just won't allow it anymore. But guess what. I am an incredibly determined person, and I never compromise on any promise I make to myself. And I made myself a fucking promise. We are all going to fucking die someday, but I'm not dead yet, and regardless of whatever some asshole doctor says to me on April 12th, I'm going to hike the motherfucking PCT this year, even if it means eating nothing but raw pumpkin seeds and kale the whole fucking way.
See y'all out there.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
What I ate on the Appalachian Trail.
I'm vegan. This should be obvious to anyone reading this (if it's not, then god help your miserable soul). Also obvious, food was an incredibly important part of my thruhike, and being vegan somewhat altered the experience I had, what I took with me, what was available for me in town restaurants and grocery stores, etc.
Food (or hot chocolate, coffee, soda) is and can be some major motivation. But being vegan means that you won't necessarily have those motivations readily available to you. Ask any thruhiker on their way into town, I promise you they're most looking forward to "a burger and a beer". This can put a damper on things, but honestly, you can prepare similar motivations for yourself. How? Mail yourself cookies and coffee and all sorts of fun shit. Trust me, the knowledge of having access to these things will give you superhuman strength and you'll suddenly find yourself hiking 30 mile days whilst fantasizing obsessively about dunking said cookies in said coffee.
Okay, so beyond being vegan, I'm also gluten free (wah wahhh). This also significantly decreases what I can eat, especially in terms of vegan junk food readily available at gas stations and trail towns. To those you reading this with special diets, fret not, your experience will not be diminished at all if you take the time to prepare. Trust me.
Let's talk about calories real quick. To keep the weight down, I wanted a very high calorie to weight ratio. This basically means high in fat, high in sugar, or both. So you know, by default, thruhiking food isn't exactly the healthiest stuff in the world...
Anyhow, let's get to the food.
BREAKFAST
1. Cereal or (gluten free) granola with powdered nondairy milk.
This is definitely my most favorite of breakfast meals. I experimented with different types of nondairy milk, and dehydrated coconut milk was undoubtedly the best. It's extremely dense in fat and therefore dense in calories and tastes damn good. This is the brand I used. You gotta help it dissolve some, but that's all good.
Soy milk was pretty hit or miss, honestly. If you're going to go with the powdered soy milk route, just make sure you actually experiment with different brands before you hit the trail. Some are very... healthy, ya know what I mean? The taste and texture is reminiscent of the smell and feel of being in an all vegan store owned by seventh day adventists with a name that includes at least two of the following words: mother, earth, and/or natural.
Other hikers have had good luck with rice milk, so maybe go with that.
As for cereal, I typically went with the big Nature's Path brand bags. Favorite flavor: Mesa Sunrise. So dope. And granola? Kind granola typically. It's cheap, gluten free, and has a lot of calories, and doesn't have too much sugar. Just make sure the granola you're buying doesn't have honey!
2. Instant oatmeal.
It was rare that I made oatmeal in the morning as oatmeal requires cooking (unless you've achieved thruhiker level 9 status, in which you are okay with eating cold oatmeal), but sometimes, on cold, lazy morning, a hot meal is dope.
Once again I mostly went with the gluten free Nature's Path instant oatmeals.
3. Bars.
So you don't want to have to prepare a real meal (i.e. eat anything that requires a spork)? You don't have time to get a pot messy or the water to waste cleaning it out? Bars are what you want then. I ate mostly Macro bars. The flavors with peanut butter have the most calories, but I ate mostly cashew flavors cause I got them from a discount grocery store before we left. They were stale as fuck by the end of the hike, but I long ago learned not to care. I'm also a big fan of Luna bars since they taste like straight up cake. White chocolate macadamia is probs my favorite flavor. Clif bars are a favorite of most hikers, but 1) I spent the first few years of being vegan living off Clif bars and learned to hate them and 2) they're not gluten free.
4. Chia seed pudding.
Chia seeds, sugar, chocolate, dates, raisins. Whatever you feel like adding really. I got sick of this eventually, but chia seeds are crazy nutrient/calorie dense and because of their omega fatty acids, are anti-inflammatory, and guess what fools, you need to eat things that are anti-inflammatory on the AT. If you don't then god have mercy on your knees. Or if you decide to ibuprofen your way all the way to Katahdin, then god have mercy on your liver.
SNACKS
1. Bars, part deaux.
You know, the ones I just told you about.
2. Chips.
Potato chips. Tortilla chips.
I'm a crazy person and sent myself chips in resupply boxes even though chips are available literally anywhere. So if I got a box, I was probably eating Earth Balance sour cream and onion chips, dope. If I didn't and I could find them, I was eating Kettle chips, probably sea salt and vinegar but maybe maple and bacon (they're vegan I swear!). Also dope. If I couldn't find either then I was probably eating Lays or Fritos (so many calories, jesus christ). I don't like doing these things, but you kind of go into survival mode and just eat what you gotta eat when your drop box doesn't show up in fucking Nowhere, VA and you gotta resupply at the Grocery Xpress where the car tools aisle is the same as the produce aisle.
3. Dried fruit.
Do yourself a favor. Eat some fruit. No, sugar does not equal sugar. Fruit sugar is different than corn syrup and your body will be a lot happier if you just eat some fucking fruit.
4. Nuts and seeds.
Cashews and pumpkin seeds were my most consumed. Cashews cause they just taste good and I'd rather buy cashews than peanuts if cashews are available and cost pretty much the same amount. Pumpkin seed because what did I just say about omega fatty acids? Oh yeah, they're anti-inflammatory. Dope. Also, pumpkin seeds have this weird ability to paralyze parasites so they don't take hold in your gut, and if you already got 'em then pumpkin seeds help get rid of them. Don't believe me? Too bad.
5. Peanut butter.
I honestly didn't start eating peanut butter until way later in the trail, and then at some point it became basically all I ate. That and chips. Peanut Butter & Co has the dopest flavors, like White Chocolate Wonderful, Cinnamon Raisin Swirl, and Dark Chocolate Dreams. Plus it's cheap and can be found at basically any grocery store. And they're all certified vegan so there.
Let me tell you, dipping gluten free cookies in dark chocolate peanut butter is an incredible morale booster after seven straight days of torrential rain.
6. Candy.
Yeah, candy is right. There's this company called Go Max Go and they have a shit load of vegan candy bars that seem incredibly similar to some of the more... mainstream candy bars... My personal favorite is the Thumbs Up (which is supposed to be a butterfinger... get it?). But if you're just sooo stereotypical and you just gotta have the real thruhiker experience (but you're still vegan), you should probably eat about ten Jokerz bars as day, as they're the snickers equivalent.
I also ate quite a few sour jelly beans from the company YumEarth.
There's a variety of gross candy that's "technically" vegan that you can find in most gas stations, but I won't get into that because I don't want to endorse it, and I don't recommend eating trash, regardless of whether it may or may not be vegan. Plus, well, I just don't think a lot of it is vegan... *cough* oreos aren't vegan *cough* everybody stop saying that *cough* *cough* what does the ingredient "chocolate" mean, y'all are lying to yourselves *cough*.
7. Faux jerky.
Primal strips don't have a whole lot of calories but god damn do they taste good. Only one flavor is gluten free, but at least I get to have that. There's also this brand, Butler's, and they have this product called Sam's Harvest Jerky, and god damn! This shit is amazing! Unfortunately it's not such a popular brand and you won't be able to find it most anywhere, so ordering online is recommended.
8. Energy chunks.
You know what I'm talking about right? Those weird squares of dates plus whatever other ingredients they wanted and maybe a superfood or two? You know, they have them at literally every health food store in the world in bulk? Anyhow, these are dope and I'm surprised more people don't use them on the trail... I mean, they're chunks of "energy", isn't that we all need whilst thruhiking?
9. Dates and figs.
With or without coconut shreds. SO GOOD. SO MANY CARBS. SO MUCH HIKING WILL BE HAD.
10. Cookies.
Gluten free cookies? Gotta have 'em. There's a bunch of brands of gluten free vegan cookies, Lucy's, Enjoy Life, Mary's Gone Crackers... once again, figure out what you like most and go for that. Or go for variety, that's what I did and I literally never got sick of cookies. Honestly you can probably just thruhike on cookies and peanut butter. Do the damn thing.
11. Dark Chocolate.
Bars and dark chocolate covered everything. Peanuts, almonds, espresso beans. Honestly, you can find dark chocolate just about anywhere but like always, watch out for the companies that hide "less than 2% milkfat" up in that shit. I probably ate more chocolate than any human being has a right to consume, but chocolate is healthy! It's got antioxidants and shit!
DINNER
1. Premade dehydrated meals.
I, unfortunately, made the mistake of placing a huge order through Outdoor Herbivore, thinking that I would at least enjoy most of their products, if not all of them. This was a huge let down and I would never recommend that anyone eat these meals for any extended length of time. Why? It doesn't matter what you get, they all pretty much taste the same... kind of like clif bars. It doesn't matter what flavor you're eating, you're eating a god damn clif bar and it tastes like a god damn clif bar. Same principle applies to Outdoor Herbivore. If for some reason you decide you just gotta order something from these guys, then let it be the blackened quinoa or the lickety split lentils. Everything else is whack and I hate that they have a monopoly on the vegan backpacking food market. Someone please remedy this!
However much Outdoor Herbivore sucks, Backpacker's Pantry does not. There's a reason this is a popular brand. The best part is that these are pretty much anywhere. Only a few of the flavors are vegan, but the pad thai is amazing and has like a thousand calories.
2. Dehydrated beans and corn tortillas.
Once again, I got sick of beans pretty quick, but it was a good idea for awhile. Pack out an avocado from town, carry a little bit of hot sauce, and god damn you got a badass meal. There's a variety of dehydrated bean flavors, so once again, figure out which ones you like best before committing to eating them for 5+ months.
3. Noodles and sauce.
Gluten free macaroni noodles. Probably of the corn or quinoa variety. These cook decently fast, but make sure you dump that starchy water as it will ruin whatever else you put in your pot with your noods. I used some powdered marinara mixes and cheese mixes, but honestly I wasn't a big fan of either. Maybe just olive oil and nutritional yeast is your best bet here.
Rice noodles cook fast. That makes them worthy of thruhiking in my book. Thin noodles work best (duh). Pair some noodles with a "sauce" and you win. My favorite was powdered miso, which is fairly easy to find, but watch out for fishy (literally) ingredients in that miso! Pad thai and peanut sauce packets are fairly easy to find in most grocery stores as well, but once again, check those ingredients y'all.
4. Thai kitchen.
Cheap, but not very calorie dense. You gotta use like three to get a decent meal out of the deal, but I loooove eating these things on the trail. Only a couple of the flavors are vegan, but who cares, the spring onion is the best and it's all you need. Or get the garlic flavor, mix it with a spring onion, go nuts, it's your hike and you deserve it!
IN TOWN
1. Produce.
Eat produce! Just do it! You have to! You're a human being god damnit! Pack out some bananas and avocados and you'll be so fucking happy you did, I promise. Maybe even eat a salad in town, I don't know, get crazy!
2. Pickles.
Let's face it. You're gross and sweaty. You've lost more sodium through your pores than you've consumed in the last ten years of your life. Get it back. Eat those damn pickles.
3. Soda.
You know the routine, it's liquid calories dude.
4. Nondairy ice cream.
Mostly coconut milk, but sometimes those new cashew flavors. Once upon a time in the "Daleville/Troutville Metropolitan Area" I ate two pints of cashew milk ice cream then watched Mad Max at the Roanoke movie theater. My gut was literally on fire for the duration of the movie, but I have no regrets and I'm still alive, if just barely.
5. Coffee.
Strictly for morale. Also, I don't drink alcohol so I had to spend money on something in town, right?
6. Chinese food.
If you're on the AT, you'll notice that most trail towns have at least one Chinese restaurant. If you're really desperate for some town food, hit it up. They should have tofu and at least one thing on the menu that's vegan. Should being the key word here.
SUPPLEMENTS/OTHER
1. Powdered greens.
I used Healthforce Nutritional's Vitamineral Greens. This was a good idea in terms of staying healthy, but it was hard to adhere to. I just didn't have an incredible amount of extra containers to get all nastied up with greens. Is nastied a word? Doesn't seem like it. Who cares. I'll try to do greens again on the PCT because I'm a fucking hippie and I don't believe in not eating them.
2. Magnesium powder.
Early on in my hike, this was a good idea. Magnesium powder makes a huge difference in whether or not your legs are going to cramp hard as shit in the middle of the night. After a few hundred miles and a couple months of routine exercise, your body adjusts and you find that you no longer cramp, ever, for any reason. You've transcended into some other realm and you're a deity who no longer experiences muscle soreness.
3. Electrolytes.
The AT is hot. I mean like, really fucking hot. You're going to sweat. So much. Gallons. Every day. There's no avoiding it. Unless you want to struggle for the entire summer, I guarantee that you'll want to use electrolytes. I used Ultima and Vega most of the time. They were both messy and annoying, but hey, you do what you gotta do.
4. RAW meal.
This was the hardest of the supplement routine. I figured I could use a high quality protein source since I was getting pretty physical out there on the AT, you know, using my muscles and shit. But it was messy and just didn't work well and blah. I eventually started ditching all of my RAW meal powders into hiker boxes and never once regretted it.
5. Multivitamins.
I took a couple of different brands. Again, find what works for you, it's just a multivitamin. I will definitely continue to use multivitamins on my thruhiking ventures. Read all about why, here.
6. Starbucks VIA coffee.
For anyone who isn't familiar, Starbucks VIA are little coffee sticks that you just add to water and voila, a delicious coffee drink. In "real life" these aren't the greatest, but as soon as you hit the trail and you/re forced to cope with the sudden absence of caffeine in your life, you'll be reaching for the VIA sticks and praising jah that they exist.
7. Tea/hot chocolate.
These are the two reasons that I refuse to go stoveless on the PCT, I just love my hot drinks too much. I made my own hot chocolate mix ahead of time, and it was incredible. I sent myself a variety of teas in every drop box and probably only made half of them, but who cares, the weight was negligible and the tea was delicious.
8. Veggie bouillon.
Get the cubes and put them in literally anything and it's suddenly worth eating. Par boiled rice? Add some veggie bouillon and you win.
9. Condiments.
Mustard, ketchup, hot sauce. Whatever tickles your fancy. If you hate what you're eating, squirt like six mustard packets on it and just try to disguise how gross it is. I'm looking at you Outdoor Herbivore...
THINGS I DIDN'T USE BUT MY FRIENDS DID
1. Ramen.
With and without MSG. The "natural" brand is Koyo, and the in-no-way-natural brand is Top Ramen. You know, the one from walmart? Well only the "oriental" flavor is vegan... but what the fuck kind of flavor is oriental? On the plus side, these cost jack shit. On the not so plus side... these may literally kill you because I would never actually qualify them as "food".
2. Probars.
These have the most calorie content of any vegan bar on the market, to my knowledge. They're decent and there's a million flavors. Unfortunately they're made with oats (contaminated with gluten), and I'm a big enough baby to care about that kind of stuff. They're also hella expensive, so, try to find a sale or something.
3. Gatorade.
I don't deny that gatorade is pretty delicious, especially the flavor glacier freeze. I just adhere to stricter standards about these things, and I already had ultima and vega playing in my electrolyte game. Gatorade does have a lot of calories and doesn't taste like shit, so there's that.
4. Tortillas.
I was very jealous of other's ability to eat gluten whilst on the trail, and nowhere is this more apparent than bean burritos. I don't think I would have gotten sick of beans, or at least not nearly as fast, if I had had the burrito option. Plus you can just get weird and make trail mix, peanut butter, cookie, chocolate burritos and honestly that sounds like a damn good meal on the trail.
5. Couscous.
So cheap, so easy. Cooks literally instantly. Also has a good nutrition profile comparable to quinoa. Honestly if you're going on a thruhike, regardless of diet, you should be eating couscous.
WHAT I TRIED AND DIDN'T LIKE
1. Outdoor Herbivore.
I already explained this one. They're just bad, but don't take my word for it, go ahead and buy a couple. Ha.
2. Coconut oil.
Too messy. Hot and then cold and then hot again so many times that it probably went rancid. A lot of people used coconut oil on the trail, but it just wasn't for me. I may come back to it someday.
3. Little almond butter packets.
So annoying. Don't ever do this. It seems like a good idea at the time, but it's not.
4. Raw meal.
Like I said, this just didn't work out. I'll try to find some other powdered protein mix that I like more.
Okay, so beyond being vegan, I'm also gluten free (wah wahhh). This also significantly decreases what I can eat, especially in terms of vegan junk food readily available at gas stations and trail towns. To those you reading this with special diets, fret not, your experience will not be diminished at all if you take the time to prepare. Trust me.
Let's talk about calories real quick. To keep the weight down, I wanted a very high calorie to weight ratio. This basically means high in fat, high in sugar, or both. So you know, by default, thruhiking food isn't exactly the healthiest stuff in the world...
Anyhow, let's get to the food.
BREAKFAST
1. Cereal or (gluten free) granola with powdered nondairy milk.
This is definitely my most favorite of breakfast meals. I experimented with different types of nondairy milk, and dehydrated coconut milk was undoubtedly the best. It's extremely dense in fat and therefore dense in calories and tastes damn good. This is the brand I used. You gotta help it dissolve some, but that's all good.
Soy milk was pretty hit or miss, honestly. If you're going to go with the powdered soy milk route, just make sure you actually experiment with different brands before you hit the trail. Some are very... healthy, ya know what I mean? The taste and texture is reminiscent of the smell and feel of being in an all vegan store owned by seventh day adventists with a name that includes at least two of the following words: mother, earth, and/or natural.
Other hikers have had good luck with rice milk, so maybe go with that.
As for cereal, I typically went with the big Nature's Path brand bags. Favorite flavor: Mesa Sunrise. So dope. And granola? Kind granola typically. It's cheap, gluten free, and has a lot of calories, and doesn't have too much sugar. Just make sure the granola you're buying doesn't have honey!
2. Instant oatmeal.
It was rare that I made oatmeal in the morning as oatmeal requires cooking (unless you've achieved thruhiker level 9 status, in which you are okay with eating cold oatmeal), but sometimes, on cold, lazy morning, a hot meal is dope.
Once again I mostly went with the gluten free Nature's Path instant oatmeals.
3. Bars.
So you don't want to have to prepare a real meal (i.e. eat anything that requires a spork)? You don't have time to get a pot messy or the water to waste cleaning it out? Bars are what you want then. I ate mostly Macro bars. The flavors with peanut butter have the most calories, but I ate mostly cashew flavors cause I got them from a discount grocery store before we left. They were stale as fuck by the end of the hike, but I long ago learned not to care. I'm also a big fan of Luna bars since they taste like straight up cake. White chocolate macadamia is probs my favorite flavor. Clif bars are a favorite of most hikers, but 1) I spent the first few years of being vegan living off Clif bars and learned to hate them and 2) they're not gluten free.
4. Chia seed pudding.
Chia seeds, sugar, chocolate, dates, raisins. Whatever you feel like adding really. I got sick of this eventually, but chia seeds are crazy nutrient/calorie dense and because of their omega fatty acids, are anti-inflammatory, and guess what fools, you need to eat things that are anti-inflammatory on the AT. If you don't then god have mercy on your knees. Or if you decide to ibuprofen your way all the way to Katahdin, then god have mercy on your liver.
SNACKS
1. Bars, part deaux.
You know, the ones I just told you about.
2. Chips.
Potato chips. Tortilla chips.
I'm a crazy person and sent myself chips in resupply boxes even though chips are available literally anywhere. So if I got a box, I was probably eating Earth Balance sour cream and onion chips, dope. If I didn't and I could find them, I was eating Kettle chips, probably sea salt and vinegar but maybe maple and bacon (they're vegan I swear!). Also dope. If I couldn't find either then I was probably eating Lays or Fritos (so many calories, jesus christ). I don't like doing these things, but you kind of go into survival mode and just eat what you gotta eat when your drop box doesn't show up in fucking Nowhere, VA and you gotta resupply at the Grocery Xpress where the car tools aisle is the same as the produce aisle.
3. Dried fruit.
Do yourself a favor. Eat some fruit. No, sugar does not equal sugar. Fruit sugar is different than corn syrup and your body will be a lot happier if you just eat some fucking fruit.
4. Nuts and seeds.
Cashews and pumpkin seeds were my most consumed. Cashews cause they just taste good and I'd rather buy cashews than peanuts if cashews are available and cost pretty much the same amount. Pumpkin seed because what did I just say about omega fatty acids? Oh yeah, they're anti-inflammatory. Dope. Also, pumpkin seeds have this weird ability to paralyze parasites so they don't take hold in your gut, and if you already got 'em then pumpkin seeds help get rid of them. Don't believe me? Too bad.
5. Peanut butter.
I honestly didn't start eating peanut butter until way later in the trail, and then at some point it became basically all I ate. That and chips. Peanut Butter & Co has the dopest flavors, like White Chocolate Wonderful, Cinnamon Raisin Swirl, and Dark Chocolate Dreams. Plus it's cheap and can be found at basically any grocery store. And they're all certified vegan so there.
Let me tell you, dipping gluten free cookies in dark chocolate peanut butter is an incredible morale booster after seven straight days of torrential rain.
6. Candy.
Yeah, candy is right. There's this company called Go Max Go and they have a shit load of vegan candy bars that seem incredibly similar to some of the more... mainstream candy bars... My personal favorite is the Thumbs Up (which is supposed to be a butterfinger... get it?). But if you're just sooo stereotypical and you just gotta have the real thruhiker experience (but you're still vegan), you should probably eat about ten Jokerz bars as day, as they're the snickers equivalent.
I also ate quite a few sour jelly beans from the company YumEarth.
There's a variety of gross candy that's "technically" vegan that you can find in most gas stations, but I won't get into that because I don't want to endorse it, and I don't recommend eating trash, regardless of whether it may or may not be vegan. Plus, well, I just don't think a lot of it is vegan... *cough* oreos aren't vegan *cough* everybody stop saying that *cough* *cough* what does the ingredient "chocolate" mean, y'all are lying to yourselves *cough*.
7. Faux jerky.
Primal strips don't have a whole lot of calories but god damn do they taste good. Only one flavor is gluten free, but at least I get to have that. There's also this brand, Butler's, and they have this product called Sam's Harvest Jerky, and god damn! This shit is amazing! Unfortunately it's not such a popular brand and you won't be able to find it most anywhere, so ordering online is recommended.
8. Energy chunks.
You know what I'm talking about right? Those weird squares of dates plus whatever other ingredients they wanted and maybe a superfood or two? You know, they have them at literally every health food store in the world in bulk? Anyhow, these are dope and I'm surprised more people don't use them on the trail... I mean, they're chunks of "energy", isn't that we all need whilst thruhiking?
9. Dates and figs.
10. Cookies.
Gluten free cookies? Gotta have 'em. There's a bunch of brands of gluten free vegan cookies, Lucy's, Enjoy Life, Mary's Gone Crackers... once again, figure out what you like most and go for that. Or go for variety, that's what I did and I literally never got sick of cookies. Honestly you can probably just thruhike on cookies and peanut butter. Do the damn thing.
11. Dark Chocolate.
Bars and dark chocolate covered everything. Peanuts, almonds, espresso beans. Honestly, you can find dark chocolate just about anywhere but like always, watch out for the companies that hide "less than 2% milkfat" up in that shit. I probably ate more chocolate than any human being has a right to consume, but chocolate is healthy! It's got antioxidants and shit!
DINNER
1. Premade dehydrated meals.
I, unfortunately, made the mistake of placing a huge order through Outdoor Herbivore, thinking that I would at least enjoy most of their products, if not all of them. This was a huge let down and I would never recommend that anyone eat these meals for any extended length of time. Why? It doesn't matter what you get, they all pretty much taste the same... kind of like clif bars. It doesn't matter what flavor you're eating, you're eating a god damn clif bar and it tastes like a god damn clif bar. Same principle applies to Outdoor Herbivore. If for some reason you decide you just gotta order something from these guys, then let it be the blackened quinoa or the lickety split lentils. Everything else is whack and I hate that they have a monopoly on the vegan backpacking food market. Someone please remedy this!
However much Outdoor Herbivore sucks, Backpacker's Pantry does not. There's a reason this is a popular brand. The best part is that these are pretty much anywhere. Only a few of the flavors are vegan, but the pad thai is amazing and has like a thousand calories.
2. Dehydrated beans and corn tortillas.
Once again, I got sick of beans pretty quick, but it was a good idea for awhile. Pack out an avocado from town, carry a little bit of hot sauce, and god damn you got a badass meal. There's a variety of dehydrated bean flavors, so once again, figure out which ones you like best before committing to eating them for 5+ months.
3. Noodles and sauce.
Gluten free macaroni noodles. Probably of the corn or quinoa variety. These cook decently fast, but make sure you dump that starchy water as it will ruin whatever else you put in your pot with your noods. I used some powdered marinara mixes and cheese mixes, but honestly I wasn't a big fan of either. Maybe just olive oil and nutritional yeast is your best bet here.
Rice noodles cook fast. That makes them worthy of thruhiking in my book. Thin noodles work best (duh). Pair some noodles with a "sauce" and you win. My favorite was powdered miso, which is fairly easy to find, but watch out for fishy (literally) ingredients in that miso! Pad thai and peanut sauce packets are fairly easy to find in most grocery stores as well, but once again, check those ingredients y'all.
4. Thai kitchen.
Cheap, but not very calorie dense. You gotta use like three to get a decent meal out of the deal, but I loooove eating these things on the trail. Only a couple of the flavors are vegan, but who cares, the spring onion is the best and it's all you need. Or get the garlic flavor, mix it with a spring onion, go nuts, it's your hike and you deserve it!
IN TOWN
1. Produce.
Eat produce! Just do it! You have to! You're a human being god damnit! Pack out some bananas and avocados and you'll be so fucking happy you did, I promise. Maybe even eat a salad in town, I don't know, get crazy!
2. Pickles.
Let's face it. You're gross and sweaty. You've lost more sodium through your pores than you've consumed in the last ten years of your life. Get it back. Eat those damn pickles.
3. Soda.
You know the routine, it's liquid calories dude.
4. Nondairy ice cream.
Mostly coconut milk, but sometimes those new cashew flavors. Once upon a time in the "Daleville/Troutville Metropolitan Area" I ate two pints of cashew milk ice cream then watched Mad Max at the Roanoke movie theater. My gut was literally on fire for the duration of the movie, but I have no regrets and I'm still alive, if just barely.
5. Coffee.
Strictly for morale. Also, I don't drink alcohol so I had to spend money on something in town, right?
6. Chinese food.
If you're on the AT, you'll notice that most trail towns have at least one Chinese restaurant. If you're really desperate for some town food, hit it up. They should have tofu and at least one thing on the menu that's vegan. Should being the key word here.
SUPPLEMENTS/OTHER
1. Powdered greens.
I used Healthforce Nutritional's Vitamineral Greens. This was a good idea in terms of staying healthy, but it was hard to adhere to. I just didn't have an incredible amount of extra containers to get all nastied up with greens. Is nastied a word? Doesn't seem like it. Who cares. I'll try to do greens again on the PCT because I'm a fucking hippie and I don't believe in not eating them.
2. Magnesium powder.
Early on in my hike, this was a good idea. Magnesium powder makes a huge difference in whether or not your legs are going to cramp hard as shit in the middle of the night. After a few hundred miles and a couple months of routine exercise, your body adjusts and you find that you no longer cramp, ever, for any reason. You've transcended into some other realm and you're a deity who no longer experiences muscle soreness.
3. Electrolytes.
4. RAW meal.
This was the hardest of the supplement routine. I figured I could use a high quality protein source since I was getting pretty physical out there on the AT, you know, using my muscles and shit. But it was messy and just didn't work well and blah. I eventually started ditching all of my RAW meal powders into hiker boxes and never once regretted it.
5. Multivitamins.
6. Starbucks VIA coffee.
For anyone who isn't familiar, Starbucks VIA are little coffee sticks that you just add to water and voila, a delicious coffee drink. In "real life" these aren't the greatest, but as soon as you hit the trail and you/re forced to cope with the sudden absence of caffeine in your life, you'll be reaching for the VIA sticks and praising jah that they exist.
7. Tea/hot chocolate.
These are the two reasons that I refuse to go stoveless on the PCT, I just love my hot drinks too much. I made my own hot chocolate mix ahead of time, and it was incredible. I sent myself a variety of teas in every drop box and probably only made half of them, but who cares, the weight was negligible and the tea was delicious.
8. Veggie bouillon.
Get the cubes and put them in literally anything and it's suddenly worth eating. Par boiled rice? Add some veggie bouillon and you win.
9. Condiments.
Mustard, ketchup, hot sauce. Whatever tickles your fancy. If you hate what you're eating, squirt like six mustard packets on it and just try to disguise how gross it is. I'm looking at you Outdoor Herbivore...
THINGS I DIDN'T USE BUT MY FRIENDS DID
1. Ramen.
With and without MSG. The "natural" brand is Koyo, and the in-no-way-natural brand is Top Ramen. You know, the one from walmart? Well only the "oriental" flavor is vegan... but what the fuck kind of flavor is oriental? On the plus side, these cost jack shit. On the not so plus side... these may literally kill you because I would never actually qualify them as "food".
2. Probars.
These have the most calorie content of any vegan bar on the market, to my knowledge. They're decent and there's a million flavors. Unfortunately they're made with oats (contaminated with gluten), and I'm a big enough baby to care about that kind of stuff. They're also hella expensive, so, try to find a sale or something.
3. Gatorade.
I don't deny that gatorade is pretty delicious, especially the flavor glacier freeze. I just adhere to stricter standards about these things, and I already had ultima and vega playing in my electrolyte game. Gatorade does have a lot of calories and doesn't taste like shit, so there's that.
4. Tortillas.
I was very jealous of other's ability to eat gluten whilst on the trail, and nowhere is this more apparent than bean burritos. I don't think I would have gotten sick of beans, or at least not nearly as fast, if I had had the burrito option. Plus you can just get weird and make trail mix, peanut butter, cookie, chocolate burritos and honestly that sounds like a damn good meal on the trail.
5. Couscous.
So cheap, so easy. Cooks literally instantly. Also has a good nutrition profile comparable to quinoa. Honestly if you're going on a thruhike, regardless of diet, you should be eating couscous.
WHAT I TRIED AND DIDN'T LIKE
1. Outdoor Herbivore.
I already explained this one. They're just bad, but don't take my word for it, go ahead and buy a couple. Ha.
2. Coconut oil.
Too messy. Hot and then cold and then hot again so many times that it probably went rancid. A lot of people used coconut oil on the trail, but it just wasn't for me. I may come back to it someday.
3. Little almond butter packets.
So annoying. Don't ever do this. It seems like a good idea at the time, but it's not.
4. Raw meal.
Like I said, this just didn't work out. I'll try to find some other powdered protein mix that I like more.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
The PCT: Don't Sleep, Dream.
"And the football season is the only reason you stay alive in your primetime beehive."It's 2016. Somehow a new year snuck up on me while I was doing my best to ignore my debt and illness. You know, those two parasites that I inherited on the AT that just refuse to leave me alone.
Yes, I'm still in debt, but I should be able to remove that particular parasite in the next month or so. And yes, I'm still sick. Sick with what? I still don't know. Could be anything, really. I could have a lingering giardia infection or a chronic illness like Crohn's or UC, but I couldn't really tell you. That's why I've been jumping through all the necessary hoops to get state funded health insurance. Unfortunately, and as you all are aware, anything involving "the state" takes time and patience and then even more patience. So I guess I'm waiting. Waiting to see a doctor, and waiting to get this shit figured out.
Why? So I can live my fucking life. And what does living my life entail besides not feeling like shit anymore? Well, I'll tell you. Living my life entails me hiking the PCT this year. In fact, that's my biggest motivator for finally feeling better. Not the worry and anxiety that eating causes me. Not the constant fear that I won't be able to work because my stomach pain is just too crippling. I mean, those are definitely considerations. Strong considerations. But that's just how bad I want it, how bad I want to hike the PCT this year.
I am more worried that being sick will stop me from hiking than the fact that it is literally ruining my life.
Again, why? Because I can't do the "real world", this world of distractions. I can't fully assimilate into this life of working shitty jobs that don't pay anything worth a damn and slowly kill you and your will to live, paying rent to live in an apartment where all of your appliances are broken or on their way there, giving money to some assholes to keep said apartment partially warm so that I don't fucking freeze to death through the winter, and pretending like all of this makes sense to me while I do my best to forget how much I hate it. It doesn't. It never has, maybe now more than ever.
But it's not all bleak.
When I sleep, I dream of being on the trail. Of walking. Through the desert at night, the sky clear and crowded with stars guiding me through the silence and the sand, the mountains moving under my feet as I pick my way precariously along the passes in the Sierras, dense fog covered slopes on either side of a ridge as I move along the top of the world.
Inevitably, I wake up, confused and disoriented. And I remember that I'm here, in a city, with a job, and rent, and bills, and last but not least, a part of my body actively betraying me every moment of every day.
But all is not lost. I always remember that in the end. All is never lost.
Because none of this is permanent. And in four months, I will be on the trail. I will be hiking (you know, that thing that humans do that is inherent to our biology and survival) and I will pause, and then I will sigh. A sigh that will release all of the shit that seven months of stress caused by the "real world" can stuff inside the small, fragile frame I call my body.
And then I will continue. And I will smile.
But until then, I will live this shitty life that most people call normal, biding my time, planning my escape. And I will hope.
I will hope, and I will dream.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Post AT 2015 Gear Review.
Here is a link to my original post about the gear I took (or more accurately, planned to take) on my thruhike of the Appalachian Trail. Don't get me wrong, I still used most of that same gear, but I made some changes just before and during the trail. Check it out.
What I would have done differently:
I would have used a Zpacks Solplex rather than a Hexamid. I would have taken a real rain jacket like an Outdoor Research Helium II and ditched the windshirt. I would have used the 2400 version of the HMG Windrider, or I would have used a ULA Ohm 2.0. I would have taken a small external battery for emergency phone charges... Other than that, I think I'm aces.
 |
| The hexamid in all its glory and some asshole posing. |
Pros: This tent weighs like 12 ounces all things included. It takes all of two minutes to set up (once you know what you're doing). It's made from cuben fiber so it doesn't retain moisture like silnylon, so it won't weigh you down if it gets wet (and it will). Easy to repair with cuben fiber tape.
Cons: Cost. This thing costs a buttload, but I bought a slighter older, well loved model from somebody on the Gear Swap at backpackinglight.com. Unfortunately, this means it wasn't seamsealed, so halfway through our hike I had to "re-seamseal" all of the stitching with cuben fiber tape, which actually turned out to be inexpensive and easy. It rains a lot on the AT, and it sucks to get rained on in this thing. Or at least it did for me. Why? I didn't have the "bathtub floor" and I took a lot of splash damage through the mesh bottom. Trust me, it sucks to have residual splash damage hit you in the face all night. I used my own polycro or emergency blanket groundsheet most of the time, and eventually I figured out how to rig my groundsheet and various stuff sacks to block most of the splash. In addition, there's no way this thing will make it through another thruhike, as of right now I have parts of the mesh duct taped and lots of small damage taped up on the cuben fiber top.
Bottom line: It got the job done and weighed jack shit. Anyone who has thruhiked with Zpacks gear will tell you that it's the way to go. Did I mention that Zpacks has great customer service? I was having trouble with my zipper and they offered to have me send it in to get fixed, free of charge. I didn't take them up on the offer since I was using it literally every day at the time, but the fact is that they are willing to help thruhikers pretty much without fail. Regardless, I was pretty envious of anyone with a Zpacks Solplex, which seems to be made more for AT-like climates with its large bathtub floor and . If I was going to do the AT again, I would use a solplex, but since I'm doing the PCT this year, I'll be using the Hexamid Tarp, which is the same tent but with no mesh.
 |
| After 2189.2 miles of rain, dirt, and giardia. |
 |
| Looks pretty good before it turns the color of rusted robot shit. |
Pros: Waterproofish. Would definitely last another thruhike. Carries weight well. No frills, easy to use. Turns brown after hiking with it for too long. Amazing customer service. Offered to send me a loaner pack whilst they fixed mine up and then send it back to me once done. Turns out I can fix the problem myself so it wasn't necessary, but I'd put HMG service on par with Zpacks.
Cons: Waterproofish. Somehow water gets inside and soaks your quilt, unbeknownst to you. The brown stain will never go away, forever turning your 300 dollar NASA gear into a turd colored piece of shit that normal people sneer at whilst in town. Retains a smell... a bad smell, kind of like ammonia. Allows for absolutely no ventilation, this in turn makes you sweat profusely, this in turn warms your back up considerably, this warm sensation turns from uncomfortable to horrible pain when the heat becomes a thousand tiny stabbing needles. Way, way, way too big. Should have got a 2400, what the hell was I thinking? The only times I used the entire collar was when Cheyanne was dying and I carried most of her gear to halfassedly slack pack her for awhile.
Bottom line: I like this pack. I wish it was smaller. I'm going to keep it around in the hopes that I will one day get into packrafting or ice climbing (ha), but I don't plan on using it on the PCT or even CDT for that matter.
 |
| A very rare specimen, the giant slug with the head of a Cheyanne. |
Pros: Synthetic, won't lose warmth when wet. And trust me, you'll get wet, and you'll stay wet, for days, for weeks, for months, you will forget what it's like to be anything but damp and clammy and eventually you'll start to seriously worry about trench foot, but don't worry, it's all apart of the AT experience. Easy to wash. If it's hot (and it will be), you can drape that shit over you like a blanket. Tight. Did I mention that by using synthetics rather than down you're not contributing to one of the most despicable and morally reprehensible industries to ever exist?
Cons: Quilts can be drafty. That's why I got a wide. I didn't really need a wide, but this was my first thruhike, and I can be a baby if I want to, so ha.
Bottom line: I will be using this same quilt on the PCT... it's only a 30 degree so we'll see how that turns out.
 |
| Way, way, way too big/wide, to the point of being an inconvenience. |
Pros: Huge. So comfortable. Amazing. Luxurious. King in the castle.
Cons: Too big. Seriously, so freaking big. Barely fits in my tent/shelters. Also I've had this asshole for like five years and have entirely compromised its R-value (ability to reflect heat) by blowing moisture inside of it.
Bottom line: Don't buy the lie. Neoairs don't pop for no freaking reason. Trust me. I've had this one literally forever and have seriously manhandled it, and it's never freaking popped. I'll be using a neoair size small on the PCT.
 |
| Little rusted droid dude. |
Pros: Super easy. Reliable. Light weight. Can simmer (kind of). I've had this thing for a million years and I've never had a problem.
Cons: Doesn't do great in wind, canisters cost a bunch of money and weigh more.
Bottom line: A canister stove is a canister stove is a canister stove. If the PCT bans alcohol stoves, I'll bring a canister stove. It might be the Soto, it might be a Snowpeak, it might be something else, but I don't think it really matters.
 |
| Only about an ounce of difference. Don't use the mini! |
Pros: Easy to use. Decent flow. Immediate satisfaction.
Cons: Probably will break. The flow on the mini is total shit. I filtered all of my water the entire trail and somehow got a bacterial infection in my gut that I still haven't quite figured out, so I guess I kind of hate these filters.
Bottom line: I'll end up using a Sawyer Squeeze on the PCT because aquamira scares me more than most waterborne illness and it weighs jack shit, plus it's just so damn easy to use.
 |
| Looking like a total doofus with my O2 rain jacket in The Smokies. |
Pros: Costs almost nothing and actually works. Plus it's an obnoxious yellow color so you're sure to never get shot by a hunter.
Cons: Obnoxious yellow color. Can't wash. Disposable. Fragile.
Bottom line: I didn't have any problems with this jacket, and honestly I'd recommend them to just about anyone, but I think it's time for me to upgrade a bit. I won't be using this on the PCT, instead, I'll be opting for the Ultimate Direction Ultra Jacket.
 |
| "Quick, look like a model." |
Pros: Really light. Synthetic. Doesn't lose warmth when wet. Handy dandy pockets for keeping fickle things like your phone close to your body heat so that the cold doesn't destroy them.
Cons: None, really.
Bottom line: I'll use the no frills UL version of the thermawrap on the PCT.
 |
| "What are you doing?" |
Pros: Nice to have on laundry day. Versatile.
Cons: Stays wet when it gets wet. Honestly couldn't find very many practical applications for this particular piece of clothing.
Bottom line: I won't be using a windshirt on the PCT, instead I'll have a more functional rain jacket that I'll use for both rain and wind.
 |
| Not as uncomfortable as you might think. |
Pros: No blisters.
Cons: Get "stale" easily. Don't last long before the toes start busting through the fabric, probably 300 or 400 miles each.
Bottom line: I'll probably use these again. I hate blisters and I can always "layer" injinji liners with more durable darn toughs to get the most bang for my buck.
 |
| Pack down small. Especially handy for hitchhiking purposes. |
 |
| Rusted hardware. However, probably a universal screw that can be found at any hardware store. |
Pros: Very light. Very compact. Easy flick lock mechanism. Fairly inexpensive.
Cons: Annoying rattle. Didn't bother me much but is super noticeable after using another person's poles. Several obnoxious, albeit easy, repairs had to be made whilst hiking. My hardware kept coming loose on one of the sections and I had to find a super strong adhesive to bring it back to life. Locus Gear assisted me with this, emailing me all the necessary information and handy pictures to guide me in repairing my poles.
Bottom line: I'd use these again, and I will if my Gossamer Gear LT4s break, but until then the LT4s are my go to.
 |
| Not looking too bad after 500+ miles. |
 |
| The most noticeable damage. |
 |
| Lugs still looking pretty decent at the end of their life. |
Pros: Very light. Wide toebox, No blisters. Zero drop. Very comfortable. Somewhat aggressive lugs.
Cons: So slippery. I don't know what the fuck it is about Altras but their soles are insane slippery. It's unfortunate because I'll literally only use Altras. The Lone Peaks had a tendency to "pancake out" after about 400 miles, which is what I'd expect from them realistically.
Bottom line: I will only wear Altras. Lone Peaks or Olympus.
 |
| First pair of Olympus. Brand new at the time of this picture. |
 |
| First pair, end of their life. Most noticeable damage. Sole was coming detached from upper. |
 |
| Pretty much no tread left after 700 miles. Pennsylvania will do that to you. |
 |
| Second pair at the end of their 1100+ mile life. The tread was smooth as a baby's bottom. |
Pros: So much cushion. Wide toebox, No blisters. Very comfortable. Got 1100 miles out of a pair of these, that's half the AT fools. And it weren't no easy sections neither. They went through Pennsylvania, The Whites, Maine, and up Katahdin.
Cons: Again, so slippery. But Altra has fixed this problem with more current models. They teamed up with Vibram and now have not just nice soles, but the best soles in the biz. It's too bad they cost 150 bucks a pair now, oh well.
Bottom line: You bet I'll be using these on the PCT.
 |
| Use this book. It's the AT thruhiking bible. |
Pros: Pretty much tells you everything you need to know. Mostly just an elevation map so you can look ahead and laugh at how much your life sucks in the days to come. Also has detailed information and maps for trail towns. Comes with a nice little pdf document to save to your smartphone.
Cons: Sometimes just flat out wrong, in which case you're fucked. Seems to omit some really important information sometimes, like WATER SOURCES.
Bottom line: This is the most reliable guide for the AT regardless of its problems, I'd use it again and so should you. Guthook's app is good too, but it costs quite a bit.
What I would have done differently:
I would have used a Zpacks Solplex rather than a Hexamid. I would have taken a real rain jacket like an Outdoor Research Helium II and ditched the windshirt. I would have used the 2400 version of the HMG Windrider, or I would have used a ULA Ohm 2.0. I would have taken a small external battery for emergency phone charges... Other than that, I think I'm aces.
That about wraps it up. Obviously I used other random shit like water bottles, stuff sacks, electronics, etc., but I don't think I need to tell you how well a stuff sack worked... right? Maybe you disagree, if so, shoot me an email or leave a comment.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Not an epilogue...
It's been over a month since we finished the trail. I'm having trouble processing this fact.
At some point on the trail I began to think that nothing else existed. There was only walking. There was only constant forward movement. But the movement came to an end. Honestly, it was anticlimactic, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
I don't want to talk about the trail right this moment. I want to talk about life as of right now. Why? Because I still intend on talking about the trail, but later. I still have yet to write about any of Maine, and man is there some stuff to say about that section of the trail.
So right now. Let's talk about that.
It's been over a month, I got that far right? I'm currently in Eugene, Oregon. All of us are. It came to attention just recently that no one really knows a whole lot about us, and that's my fault. We're from Oklahoma... well, kind of. We're kind of nomadic. Me and Stevie were born in Oklahoma, and that's where we met Cheyanne, so let's say we're from Oklahoma. But we tend to seek out mountains, so here we are in Eugene.
Me and Cheyanne are working at a vegan greasy spoon joint called Cornbread Cafe (which gained some notoriety when it was featured on a famous television show hosted by Guy Fieri). If you're ever in Eugene you should probably check it out. Words can't express how relieving it is to work at an all vegan restaurant, but regardless, it's still work. And god damn have I been working. So I apologize for the fact that I've basically abandoned my internet pursuits for the moment.
You see, I'm in debt. All of us are. Mostly from hospital bills. And yet I'm still suffering, from what? I'm still not sure, but I got diagnosed with "post infection IBS", whatever the fuck that means. But hope is on the horizon, I should have health insurance soon and with that as my catalyst I think I'll finally be on the path to convalescence. That whole debt thing though, well it's got me working overtime every week trying to unbury myself.
The "real world" beckons with responsibilities and is not-so-slowly crushing me under the weight of its terrible burdens. As much as I suffered on the trail, I look back at that time with nostalgia and longing, often finding myself on the trail again at night in my dreams, only to wake and discover that I'm back inside the confines of a house, in a city, listening to the sounds of traffic.
And I despair.
Anyhow, my intention for this blog was to be informative. Ha, I didn't really accomplish that. But I guess it was at least moderately entertaining. So I just went with it. I find that I enjoy this whole memoiresque writing thing, especially about things worthy of writing about (like living in the forest for five months). So I'll continue to do that, but in the meantime, I still need to heal, and that's going to take some time. Regardless, I have some plans for the future.
That whole informative side to the blog? It's coming, I promise. You see I have this idea that I'm going to write a "Vegan's Guide to the AT". It's going to exist in three parts, ONE) thruhiking gear, what's vegan and why it's worth having, TWO) resupplies, what we used, what worked for us, and where you'll absolutely need to send dropboxes, and THREE) a comprehensively list of every grocery store along the trail and what they have to offer in the way of vegan goodies. It'll be available for free on this blog, and hopefully I can get it organized into a nice little PDF that peeps can maybe put on their smartphones. So you see, it won't be too much information, but it should at least help to educate anyone who might be interested in doing the trail, and doesn't necessarily apply only to vegans.
Also, gear and food reviews are going to be abundant in the near future, so watch out for those.
As for the name of this blog... well, it's got to change. You see, I'm not on the AT anymore, and I plan on going on other adventures, so I need a name that's more comprehensive... maybe Vegan On The Trail? Nah that sucks, but whatever, I'll figure it out sooner or later.
That's all for now.
Still not dead, still not giving up, still (and forever) vegan,
Colton
At some point on the trail I began to think that nothing else existed. There was only walking. There was only constant forward movement. But the movement came to an end. Honestly, it was anticlimactic, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
I don't want to talk about the trail right this moment. I want to talk about life as of right now. Why? Because I still intend on talking about the trail, but later. I still have yet to write about any of Maine, and man is there some stuff to say about that section of the trail.
So right now. Let's talk about that.
It's been over a month, I got that far right? I'm currently in Eugene, Oregon. All of us are. It came to attention just recently that no one really knows a whole lot about us, and that's my fault. We're from Oklahoma... well, kind of. We're kind of nomadic. Me and Stevie were born in Oklahoma, and that's where we met Cheyanne, so let's say we're from Oklahoma. But we tend to seek out mountains, so here we are in Eugene.
Me and Cheyanne are working at a vegan greasy spoon joint called Cornbread Cafe (which gained some notoriety when it was featured on a famous television show hosted by Guy Fieri). If you're ever in Eugene you should probably check it out. Words can't express how relieving it is to work at an all vegan restaurant, but regardless, it's still work. And god damn have I been working. So I apologize for the fact that I've basically abandoned my internet pursuits for the moment.
You see, I'm in debt. All of us are. Mostly from hospital bills. And yet I'm still suffering, from what? I'm still not sure, but I got diagnosed with "post infection IBS", whatever the fuck that means. But hope is on the horizon, I should have health insurance soon and with that as my catalyst I think I'll finally be on the path to convalescence. That whole debt thing though, well it's got me working overtime every week trying to unbury myself.
The "real world" beckons with responsibilities and is not-so-slowly crushing me under the weight of its terrible burdens. As much as I suffered on the trail, I look back at that time with nostalgia and longing, often finding myself on the trail again at night in my dreams, only to wake and discover that I'm back inside the confines of a house, in a city, listening to the sounds of traffic.
And I despair.
Anyhow, my intention for this blog was to be informative. Ha, I didn't really accomplish that. But I guess it was at least moderately entertaining. So I just went with it. I find that I enjoy this whole memoiresque writing thing, especially about things worthy of writing about (like living in the forest for five months). So I'll continue to do that, but in the meantime, I still need to heal, and that's going to take some time. Regardless, I have some plans for the future.
That whole informative side to the blog? It's coming, I promise. You see I have this idea that I'm going to write a "Vegan's Guide to the AT". It's going to exist in three parts, ONE) thruhiking gear, what's vegan and why it's worth having, TWO) resupplies, what we used, what worked for us, and where you'll absolutely need to send dropboxes, and THREE) a comprehensively list of every grocery store along the trail and what they have to offer in the way of vegan goodies. It'll be available for free on this blog, and hopefully I can get it organized into a nice little PDF that peeps can maybe put on their smartphones. So you see, it won't be too much information, but it should at least help to educate anyone who might be interested in doing the trail, and doesn't necessarily apply only to vegans.
Also, gear and food reviews are going to be abundant in the near future, so watch out for those.
As for the name of this blog... well, it's got to change. You see, I'm not on the AT anymore, and I plan on going on other adventures, so I need a name that's more comprehensive... maybe Vegan On The Trail? Nah that sucks, but whatever, I'll figure it out sooner or later.
That's all for now.
Still not dead, still not giving up, still (and forever) vegan,
Colton
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Day 141: I stand in awe of my body.
We're officially out of the Whites. It feels weird to be so stoked about that statement, considering how long I desired to finally be in the Whites. But they were hard as all get out, and I can't wait to have more control over where we camp.
The Yellow Deli drops us off at Rattlesnake River at about noon. We want to make it 17 miles to a shelter that we believe will be uninhabited by other thruhikers. The shelter is just beyond the border of Maine, and making it into our final state is another huge motivation.
The first ten miles are easy cruisin' and even though we're not in Maine yet I start thinking, "Ha, everyone says Maine is hard, and this is eeeasy!" Before long though, the climbs start, the trail gets relatively shittier, and I know that we're in for a struggle.
There's one major difference in this day though, and it's not the trail. It's how I feel. You see, for the last few days I've been doing a pretty significant diet change. That is, I have pretty much limited my sugar intake to less than 20 grams a day. No small feat for the real world, and an incredibly enormous feat for the trail. This means my diet is pretty restricted, and I find myself eating mostly rice, rice noodles, potato chips, and peanut butter. I know that I can't do this for the long term (because of obvious nutritional concerns), but right now I feel awesome. Awesome as in no abdominal pain, no need to evacuate, no constant threat of shitting my pants, no pressure on my intestines, no microscopic goblins hacking up the inside of my stomach with rusty pickaxes (that's how I envision my problems at this point). So I'm flying up and down mountains. I'm literally skipping down the trail listening to a playlist I made with nothing but nostalgic high school era jams. The songs are embarrassing, but I don't care. I'm dancing and singing with complete disregard for the fact that someone might hear me. It's as if an invisible force has hijacked my brain and exterminated by ability to worry and all that's left is pure undulated bliss.
This is how I feel as I make my ascent of Mount Success, the final mountain top in New Hampshire.
I'm charging up the mountain, literally yelling the words to my favorite high school jams, using my poles like drumsticks to emphasize the rhythm, and as I make my final climb, I took and look back at the sun throwing rays of light through the clouds.
Awesome. I feel awesome. Life is good. God damn.
The wind speeds on top of the mountain are crazy and they're tossing me around like a rag doll, and my sudden change in mindset interprets this as fun rather than annoying. So I do what anyone would do. I drop my bag and have an impromptu single person dance party as the sun sets on the Whites in the distance.
Before long Cheyanne catches up, gives me an eyebrow raised look as if to say, "What did I just catch you doing?" Unashamed, I run off across the bald peak still singing like a total idiot.
Before going back down into the trees, or what we affectionately call "Tree Mile" rather than "Tree Line" because of a speaking error on the part of Cheyanne, I pause.
I turn around, take one last look at the Ghost of Mountains Past. I hold my finger up in front of me, putting it on top of Mount Washington and slowly trace it over the peaks of the Presidentials and down the ridge that brought us into Pinkham Notch, then along the Wildcats and down into Rattlesnake River. I turn back around, looking off into the distance or, "The Mountains Yet to Come". Beyond them somewhere is Katahdin. I feel its presence pulsing gently in my chest, pulling me like a magnet.
Here, on this peak, looking back at where we've been and where we're going, a warmth pushes the anxiety inducing pull of Katahdin to the side and I realize the warmth is pride. We walked here. Over those mountains, over mountains beyond those, over mountains beyond those! And I can physically see what we've done! A sentiment comes to mind, one that would echo in my subconscious for many days to come. Henry David Thoreau, in describing his ascent of Katahdin, once said, "I stand in awe of my body."
Sometimes it feels like it's killing me. Sometimes it feels like I can spread wings and fly to the fucking moon. Sometimes it's eh. But always, it is there, taking punishment and providing me with input. It's always there. And it's a beautiful feeling, the feeling of BEING a BODY. I am my body, and my body is capable of so much. And so in this moment that I realize what I've subjected myself to and survived, I take a step back (metaphorically) and just cherish the vehicle that allows me to experience.
My body, and all of its amazing abilities. The ability to see, and feel, and run, and climb, and move, and maybe most importantly, to suffer.
I stand in awe of my body.
And like that, we're in Maine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)