| |
|
| | |
|
| Hiking | 14.50 Miles |
5,210 AEG |
| | Hiking | 14.50 Miles | 12 Hrs 30 Mns | | 1.16 mph |
| 5,210 ft AEG | | | | |
|
|
| |
| Linked |
|
none
[ show ]
| no linked trail guides |
| Partners |
|
[ show ]
| partners | | Bruce suggested a hike from Carney to the Flatiron and back as a night hike for the near full moon. We set foot on the trail at about 7pm in the declining heat. Near the old Carney Springs Campground Bruce spotted a large Gila Monster. Pretty cool since I've never seen one before. It was much larger than anticipated at a foot long and fat as a boa. Bruce chased the toxin beast under a bush trying to capture photo evidence causing him to hiss up a storm. Unfortunately I had to endure Bruce imitating the hiss throughout the remainder of the hike.
The ascent to West Boulder Saddle is a push. Not far up I learned Bruce had his heart set on winning the 2010 Tibbermode Olympics.
All went well until we neared Three Sisters Wash. We got off track for a few minutes then managed to shake it off and get back on track. Bruce did not appear to enjoy the route finding challenge. My bad as I mentioned to him that this would be a pretty straight forward hike. Our progress was a tad slow, we had already busted out the headlights as Bruce calls 'em at this point. Bruce lent me his amazing high-power single-AA L.E.D. mini flashlight since my headlamp should be retired to a pioneer museum. This bad boy could find cairns a hundred yards in the distance and was dubbed the "Cairn Finder".
Approaching 5057 I noticed one of the rock cairn goal posts was down so I set it up again. Here I cached a frozen solid quart of water. The route around 5057 went remarkably well, albeit slow (Bruce impersonating Tibber), with only a three minute alignment issue. The Pinion Pine atop Heiro seemed to take forever to reach. I cached a Gatorade right smack in the middle of the trail here too. Bruce commented on how it was a green light night. I was like what? Sure enough, looking down at the valley you'd swear every stop light running east to west was a green light. Eerie and cool at the same time! One of many reasons I enjoy a hiking partner to help me see things I'd never see on my own. Believe we mutually agreed Bob is a sick nut for his over-down/up-back hike on his own last December. It could definitely be a little spooky and lonely up here alone.
The moon was bright and the weather was beyond awesome in the low 80s with occasional breezes. Through the countless hurdles of the southern end we finally thought we were making better time on trail. This just wasn't the case. With 5024 in clear view, maybe 3/4 of a mile away, we decided to cancel the pain any further. We were both tired and I hadn't had a sip of water in over an hour underestimating the whole ordeal. Six quarts of water just wasn't enough. To make matters worse I froze it too much and was therefore transporting a block of ice across the desert while getting dehydrated.
After a well deserved forty-five minute break the Tibber-wanna-be just about fouled out of the Olympics trying to pull off impossible hand held shots. Mind you it's one in the morning with a point-n-shoot, not a tripod in sight and wobbling like a sleep deprived hiker attempting the Ridgeline out-n-back in the middle of summer.
TibberBRU downs his 8333% B12 shot and is ready for a run while I'm praying I make it to my Pinon Pine cache. My body was in bad shape. Luckily we beelined it across the ridgleline whereas on the way in we followed a Kanode route to the SIDE of the ridge. Rejuvenated with my cache things started to be less painful. Somewhere in this realm we realized the moon was being eclipsed and getting smaller, how cool!
Heading down from 5057 the sky was glowing with morning light, here we hit the biggest obstacle of the hike... Tibberitus not only infected Bruce but I too fell pray to the warm orange glow of a mid summer sunrise. We were giddy and taking pictures of anything and everything. The progress of the hike at this point was roughly 1/16mph if not backwards. Bruce was doing Happy Gilmore shots in the agave, whispering to the foxtails and waving large white bed sheets in the breeze. I gotta admit he did a remarkable job, who am I to judge!
Heading down from West Boulder Saddle just proved to be pure torture on my legs. Not sure if it was dehydration or what but I've seen better days! Luckily we survived. Thanks Bruce! |
| _____________________
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
| |
Route Editor
Route Scout
