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Sorry, no pictures because I was trying to conserve my phone battery going in and it died anyway. We stayed 2 nights at the Two Oaks campsite. Our original plan was Frog Lake but a troupe of boy scouts already had it. It turned out to be for the better, because the Frog Lake site is right next to a big trail and I was fixin' for solitude. MOTIVATION I'd rekindled my interest in mushrooms and edible plants after reading some books, but was frustrated by the preponderance of half-day trails I've gone on in the South Bay, which were all just a ridge carved out of a steep hill, or going up and down the center of a steep hill. I appreciate the geology's impact on the ecology and economy of the region, but these goddamn ridge trails may as well be a VR tour. I've since learned that the good meadowy areas are in the North and East Bay, so I have a solid queue of weekend trips for the coming year. EQUIPMENT LIKES/WISHES As noted, as I was walking in, my phone was draining its battery basically floundering to look for a cell network and I didn't realize it. So I turned off cell data (I think airplane mode is technically what I wanted because 'data' =/= network) and later turned off the phone entirely to save battery overnight. I had brought my portable battery but I wish I had remembered to charge my portable battery days in advance because it had almost nothing left in it. When I turned it back on in the middle of the night to check the time, I didn't notice that it didn't have battery saver mode on (I always leave it on as a habit) and potentially it also had wi-fi on? Anyway, it drained overnight because of that and I was without a phone to take pictures or even check the time. I wish I had brought a $10 watch to easily tell the time. The phone might have been enough in more prudent circumstances for taking photos, but I'm considering getting a small digital camera for identifying plants and fungi without using my phone. Love the Osprey 70L Aether, got the European version off Amazon because it's like $100 less. On the way in I had the bottom support things over my jacket, which I did because I was afraid of being too cold. In fact, I sweated through my layers by the time we got to the campsite. On the way back I had my jacket pockets over the bottom things, which made it easier to use my pockets and also pulled the back of my jacket up a little bit, which tilted the backpack in such a way that I think took some pressure off of my hips. There are some pretty expensive burners out there with wind guards, but I was happy with the classic Pocket Rocket, per the last thread. I found some chestnuts and felt like I could have roasted one easily on it, but I don't really like chestnuts. The wind got up to 20mph the final morning, which tore the tarp off of two of its stakes. I was still able to light the burner, and it stayed lit, but the wind did effectively stall the heat from getting into the kettle enough to fully boil. However I don't think I'll be camping in this weather again for a very long time. I was also not thinking too much about the tarp, and realized on the final night, when it was too late to do anything, that I had oriented it wrong. I was confused initially because the seams weren't lining up with the bars, but I didn't think too hard about it and just wanted to get it over with. Then I thought it was strange that the opening from the mesh door opens to one side, but the tarp's entrance zipper was vertical and in the middle, which was very cumbersome. It's really supposed to form an outward edge and one half can be pulled back so the other half forms a vestibule during the day, and that explains all the tying parts that I wasn't using. So I wish I had practiced putting the whole tent+tarp together with a video tutorial before going out for the first time. We packed 3 days' worth of freeze dried meals that you add boiling water to, in order to compare what we liked most, but it didn't reduce the packing volume as much as I had hoped. I appreciate that Backpacker's Pantry describes the cook time by elevation and notes that the base time is meant for 5,000 ft, the elevation of the facility in Boulder, CO. The other companies almost certainly test at the facility as well, so you can extrapolate from the guidelines on BP packages and apply it to the other brands' cities if you do your research ahead of time. The ones that cook in the pouch are hit and miss, and their appeal depends on your relationship with cleaning. It's hard to escape that the best results come from the stuff that you boil in water in a pot, which means potentially cleaning the pot in addition to bowls. The pouches are often deep, so it can be messy to eat out of them if your utensils are small, getting little bits on your knuckles or gloves. I wish I had brought longer utensils. In general, the best just-add-water meals aren't trying to be something they're not. Take cheese, for example. Water plus powder equals cheese? It's a hard sell without a real milk and/or butter. We tried three different brands of mac and cheese, and only one was okay (it was Backpacker's Pantry, and it may have had an advantage because it gave us an appropriate wait time). By contrast, anything with black beans is probably good, because those have been made from dried for generations. You could probably even make your own by looking at the ingredients, but watch out for the difference between regular dried black beans and "crushed," which is how they make it cook so fast. However, I did say "relationship with cleaning" for a reason. My partner is more finnicky about "dirty" utensils and vessels, but IMO that applies primarily to the domestic setting where there's a greater diversity of bacteria and viruses that piggy back on humans that are always sneezing and coughing and touching things in tight quarters. I am inspired by John Muir's declaration of the purity and cleanliness of animals and the wilderness in general. I figure that if I'm looking at a vessel—especially a cooking vessel—with some dried remnants in it, that means there's no water for anything to grow in. I find that for bowls, rinsing and drinking the food debris and wiping it down is sufficient after eating, and then if there appears to be grease or something when you're getting ready to use it again, put a few drops of Dr. Bronner's and swish in some boiling water and swish out. It won't catch every last spot, but it's not like you should have to worry about using a basin just for that sake. Again, no water no life. That said, I would have been happy to have a scrubbing tool of some kind. Instant Coffee: I tried a kind from REI that wasn't bad, but Mount Hagen is still my favorite. It is rather expensive, though. FLORA & FAUNA The new grass was just coming up to replace the old tall grass, which tall grass was not ideal for mushrooming, but there were clearer spots and dead wood where I did find a few Clitocybes, turkey tails, some yet to identify, and even a little white lonely liberty cap! Lots of oaks around, of course. One thing I didn't know about oaks is that when their characteristic leaves have fallen, some of them sprout these bushel things from a few spots, up to one per major limb. I saw a lot of oaks with no bushels, so I wonder if it's a thing they do every few years to release acorns, or what. I didn't think to check the no-bushel oaks for signs of having just shed all the little curled round leaves, but anyway I guess that's where a lot of random twigs come from. There were some pines young and old, and the sprouts of maybe a kind of vine inside and around a huge stump that was hollowed by fire. There were a lot of manzanitas along the trails, as well as the occasional holly, and I think there were a lot of bay laurel trees. I wish I had taken the time to tell a bay laurel confidently because I thought it might have been some other random tree so I didn't grab any leaves. I now know to look out for the tiny white berries, which I did see. The leaves can be smooth on the edges or a bit ruffly, and the tips of the leaves can be pinched or not. We passed by Frog Lake on the way to the campsite, and there were some cattails along the shore. There's a way to cook them, but I don't have the equipment. In string winds you can see all these big star seeds blowing away from them, which is kind of magical. It's like upgraded dandelion blowing. On our hike back I got to see more clearly the difference between parts of the hill with more sunlight exposure versus where the hill blocks the sun. Lichens and ferns are all over many of the shady areas, with the occasional gilly mushroom or set of shelves on a log. It was mostly just grasses, burrs, and desert-friendly plants on the sunny side because the moisture just doesn't stick around long enough to support the other things. Hence for mushroom hunters I would say that the reason they often grow near trees is not just the roots but the consistent shade, and you should consider the angle of the sun throughout the whole day to refine your search. I walked up the hills behind the camp site and found a manzanita grove that was populated by birds that I couldn't see too well. They warned each other of my presence with a song, "hii---low-hiiiiii," IIRC. We also saw some robins fly up in a wave as we walked by an impenetrable field (by which I mean too much bramble to be worth treading), and on the drive back down toward Morgan Hill there's a group of quails that run up and down the road and go just off to the side when there's a car coming. We also spotted a blue jay. I love those tails. WEATHER Yeah, I was not quite prepared for the cold, though the REI class on winter camping gave me enough sense to avoid genuine health problems, so it was just uncomfortable at night. I was reluctant to use the tarp, but we 100% had to, given the lows of 30F. We were shivering in our 25F-rated sleeping bags, with our layers on, mostly because of the wind, and likely the incorrect tarp installation as well. I was taught that when it's cold you have to pee more because your body doesn't want to spend all that energy keeping the water in your bladder warm, so I had to pee in the middle of each night, and experienced how it was easier to be warm afterwards. It wasn't too bad to be out of the tent for a minute or two (and I think the brain issues enough reward signal for letting it out to have you not be bothered by the cold so you can do it), and I'm glad I was forced to step out because I finally saw the stars. I can't remember the last time I really saw the stars that you can't see from a city. I always knew about Orion's belt and could usually make out the point of his sword beyond that, but it's like come on, three stars so it's a guy's belt and then you throw on the nearest random ones for feet? That's a stretch, guys. But then I saw the bow. I didn't even know there was supposed to be a bow, but it's so obvious and I can't see it being interpreted as anything else. I was blown away, and that made the lovely sleep worth it. I definitely want to spend more time looking when the weather is warmer and we can go without the tarp. In short, it was just shy of downright miserable, but the process of warming up in the morning and watching the sun cover more and more of the trees then the grass with gold was rewarding after the fact. I'll call it my own personal Hero's journey. The transformation is that I've reconnected with my sense of hunger and satiation and no longer feel the urge, as the now-cancelled Louis CK put it, to "eat until I hate myself." Luckily it was all done raining, or else we'd have been extra miserable and living mostly on peanut butter packs. I was worried that mushrooms only come up right after rain and expend their life cycle in a couple of days, but of course that's naive thinking. They respond to moisture on their own time, and moisture condenses right out of the air over night at these temperatures. Therefore I found a few but just the scant few. I have since learned that Point Reyes National Seashore has such abundance that there is a limit on collecting of two gallons plus one shroom (if you find a really big one I guess) per person per day! Really looking forward to that in a few weeks. poo poo I brought the famous $5 trowel with me and it worked very well for digging a poo poo hole. At one point I was trying to use it as a lever to pull up too much (root-connected) soil at once and the trowel blade bent, but I let it unbend and there were no visible marks and it kept working exactly the same as before. Very nice. However, pooping proved difficult for me. I was happy to squat, and tried different combinations of pants on ankles, minimally pulled, and stance widths, but I couldn't get it out. I think there was an inner conflict with not wanting to open the piss muscles at the same time. I tried to pee beforehand and then squat, but still nothing. I dug a closer hole and went to it every time I felt nature's call, and I knew there was something to take out because the sensation was in the background of every footstep at one point. Ultimately I succeeded by doing what I call the sasquatch method. I removed everything but my socks and shoes so that I could pee freely without getting it on my pants, and rather than squatting I just took a wide stance and hunched over, forearms resting above the knees. Again, good thing I got that solitude. It worked, and it was the most gratifying poo poo I've taken in years. Highly recommended. The other lesson is that even when it's 40 degrees, there is an intrinsic motivation and afterglow to certain activities that allows you to live comfortably without the standard layers on. So, I hope this reveals some gotchas for first-timers that more experienced backpackers wouldn't realize would be an issue for someone.
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Jan 1, 2019 03:26
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Good write up, forums user Striky_Pete! Sounds like you're very observant and eager to learn - like you gained a lot from the experience. You raise some important points which would be useful to a novice who might be expecting it all to be like a page from Backpacker Magazine - all sunsets and vistas. Hope you manage to get out there some more and hone your outdoors skills. I know you can reach some amazing stuff within a half-day's drive from the Bay Area. The more often you go the less miserable you will be, till the cold no longer phases you and you are sleeping and pooping freely. And as the seasons change you will be introduced to all kinds of interesting challenges. Your section on poop is especially important, as many people have no clue and simply poop on the ground and leave dirty toilet paper behind. I suggest doing away with toilet paper completely, using leaves and water (from a jug, away from a stream). Did you bathe yourself during the trip? You can have a refreshing sponge bath with just a pot of water and a rag. Use some tea tree essential oil for extra freshness! I find it crucial to at least wipe down my sweatiest areas at the end of the day. But I don't understand your issue with ridge trails. How are they like a VR tour? Keep on 'packin!
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Feb 23, 2019 19:09
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Some people will probably find this gross or whatever, but its like convenient and stuff. Bring an empty gatorade bottle or similar, it has to have a good lid, and gatorade bottles have good lids so thats what I usually use. Have to pee in the middle of the night? Shove your dong** in the bottle and pee. No leaving your tent and you don't really even have to leave your sleeping bag. I've done it a bunch of times when back country camping its extremely convenient. Be careful obviously or you'll get pee everywhere. **You need a dong for this to work.
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Feb 23, 2019 22:40
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wesleywillis posted:Some people will probably find this gross or whatever, but its like convenient and stuff. poo poo, this is really good. I used to have a lovely WalMart tent with a basic flap in the front, so if it was raining and I needed to piss, I could just kinda open the flap enough to hang my dong out and take care of things without getting into the elements. Now I've got a tent with vestibles and if it's not raining, whatever, get out, go piss, come back to bed. But whenever it rains I find myself struggling with what to do, and thus far my strategy has been to pick the vestibule I'm not using to store my boots and just kinda crawl out until I'm in a pushup position with the top half of my body exposed and then just piss straight down, which has been less than great. Gatorade bottle is a pro move.
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May 6, 2019 01:47
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I am genuinely delighted by the amount of piss chat in this thread.
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May 17, 2019 11:31
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Thanks for the write-up, OP. I just purchased an Osprey Atmos AG 65 yesterday ($200 at the REI July 4th sale), and I'm excited to plan my first overnight backpacking trip in the next few weeks. How was the wildlife-in-the-night situation? Did you feel vulnerable? I'm planning on lugging my REI Passage 3 tent (I'll be going with a partner so we can split the rest of the load). Even when car camping, though, I've had uncomfortable moments of "what animal just made that sound over there?" Did you experience this, and if so, do you have any tips for dealing with it? Or am I making a big deal out of something that really isn't a problem at all?
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Jun 30, 2019 21:49
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Thanks for the encouragement everyone, I've gotten a better sense of how to tell what a trail will be like after having a chance to go mushroom gathering in Point Reyes in January, Salt Point in February, and hiking a few trails in Sunol Wilderness a few weekends in April. What I meant about the VR tour feeling was that when I never had an opportunity to go off-trail, I felt like I was being funneled through a curated experience and not fully part of the environment, though it's not about going off-trail per se, just the possibility of it. There was a trail in Tillamook State Forest in Oregon (Jones Creek?) That had a few good plateau portions that wound around a flat area of greenery, and it was absolutely magical. I could see into the distance over the clover/moss mat until the trees added up through it, rather than facing a wall of short ferns. That's the kind of thing I mean. Vistas where the valley opens up below you and the sky above you and you're just seeing the other peaks a mile away are nice, but my elixir is those deep flat zones without orientation.codebot posted:How was the wildlife-in-the-night situation? Did you feel vulnerable? I'm planning on lugging my REI Passage 3 tent (I'll be going with a partner so we can split the rest of the load). Even when car camping, though, I've had uncomfortable moments of "what animal just made that sound over there?" Did you experience this, and if so, do you have any tips for dealing with it? Or am I making a big deal out of something that really isn't a problem at all? Our campsite was on a plateau of a hill that was going down on one side of the tent, and going up starting about 20 feet from the other, and it was mostly grass all around us, so we didn't really have any expectations of large mammals. If we did encounter a dangerous animal, I would simply use my martial arts skills to defeat it. I'm glad I checked the thread, because tomorrow morning we're heading out to Big Basin, which may have mountain lions. Our reserved campsites have about a dozen spots each and at least half are reserved, so I figure that the mountain lions know to avoid the area. I'll let you know if I have to deal with worrisome noises. Realistically I would say that the best defense is ostentatiousness. Bears really don't like to take the risk of a fight, so we're supposed to announce ourselves while walking through so that they can keep a wide berth. The advice for mountain lions is to maintain eye contact, look big, and back away slowly, fighting back if attacked. The only wild animal that I've witnessed attacking a person was a cow, who had been putting up with people getting threateningly near her calf for about an hour. The hikers got a fright but ran away and got over the cattle grate easily and without incident as I laughed from a picnic table. The cow wasn't charging to hit, but did more of a thrashing jumping thing that got the message across. There's a kind of hardwired social contract that mammals have for territory, I believe, which is "I'm going to make a show of attacking, but if you make a show of yielding there will be no damage." It saves a lot of trouble because even if you win a fight, you might come away with a limp or only one eye. At night you can keep a lantern on somewhere that doesn't bother you, maybe mark your territory (by pissing on a hard surface, not the soil) for the sake of peace of mind. Think "what would a wolf see as the local bulletin board or guest book?" Probably the main thing to worry about is keeping your food from attracting a would-be scavenger, a raccoon or possum. That's usually pretty easy if you're just hydrating dry food as you go, but crackers and so forth need to be sealed with you in the tent or hung from a tree. I, however, am not at the stage of bringing a bolt of rope with me. Anyway, I'm glad I don't have to pack as many layers this time around, as we're doing about 5 miles a day for 3 days. We have a few waterfalls to look forward to, so I'm ready to treat the trails like a regular nature excursion rather than just a means to an end.
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Jul 4, 2019 07:33
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Okay, one kind of wildlife that I forgot about, is mosquitos. I got constellations of bites all over my back, shoulders, neck, and upper arms. They go ballistic for my virile bloodstream. If you keep moving it can make their landing maneuver too hard to compute, but what you don't notice is the parts of you that aren't moving. They can bite through a single layer of clothing, and I read that they see opportunity in darker colors. If you wake up and pack up early enough, you can beat them to the warmth they need to fly. Unfortunately, my partner is a lazy sleepyhead and she took too long to rouse herself. During that waiting period the mosquitos accumulated on the mesh door of our tent, waiting. Yearning. I happened to get some spotty LTE, so I downloaded a couple of apps that are supposed to play a disturbing frequency that makes them go away. Turns out it's a myth, they don't avoid sounds. Luckily I knew how to identify lemon balm and rubbing that around mitigated the bites somewhat, though I didn't really get enough to form a repellent. After all, they were getting on me while I was picking and a lot of the leaves were dirty with eggs and even larvae of some tiny fly. I love lemon balm, as I've been seeing it practically every wilderness I visit at some point, and this time of year it flowers into sets of 5 speckled trumpets erupting from the main stem. I'm going to grow some in my new back yard and see if I can make my own ointment from it. The substance that should repel mosquitos is citronella oil, which I believe is found in the zest of citrus fruits as well, and repellents should mention it as the main ingredient. Other repellents are just blanket pesticides, which are just trying to kill the mosquito once it gets on you. The campsites in Big Basin had lockers to keep your food in overnight, but I think it was just to guard against raccoons and such. The only animals we heard, were party animals. The grown-rear end men in the tent site nearest to ours were projecting their voices as if nobody else was around, and as I was laid down in my sleeping bag, some of the bug spray that one of them used floated over and got in my eyes. Another site at least 11 feet away had these girls scream-laughing and generally shouting well into the night and morning. I didn't realize people would go to the trouble to get that far out just to hang out like they would at the pool, but maybe asthma causes me to overestimate the difficulty that others have getting in. Another thing is that you have to know about water sources. Some creeks marked on the map are dry or inaccessible especially at this time of year, and at our second campsite the nearest source of flowing water was about 4 miles away. Luckily I found a standing puddle from a creek that was enough to hold us for the night and morning before getting to a more suitable source on the way back to HQ, which was just over 3 miles out, downhill, so I had to carry the water back uphill. That was quite an ordeal because I didn't know how far I would have to go, and 2 possible sites were dry before I found the puddle. It had a lot of sulfur, but the sulfur didn't noticeably change the taste of the food. During that walk, I thought about how this is what some people have to do every day, albeit from a more reliable source. Villages where the women have to walk miles and carry these massive urns on their heads just to get the water for the day or two, can't have been that far from the water by choice, and were probably pushed out by force of colonists, or their original source of water diverted by some uncaring power. I can't imagine picking up and migrating so many miles without being sure what you'll find, whether you'll run into water after a couple of days. It's basically an act of faith when you have no other options. That experience helped me realize the uncertainty people had in the past when, if you didn't preserve your food for the winter, you would not be able to buy any. It makes our present abundance feel so overwhelming. I've been reading Walden lately, and it is much easier to understand now with that perspective.
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Jul 14, 2019 18:19
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