Equipment *

Lake Myakka, Fl - 6/99 *

Everglades National Pk, Fl. – 11/99 *

Withlacoochee State Forest, Fl. - 2/2000 *

Blackwater River State Forest, Fl – 3/2000 *

Pinhoti Trail / Cheaha Wilderness, Alabama – 4/2000 *

Appalachian Trail – So. Nantahala Wilderness, NC – 5/2000 *

Over the course of several years I have refined and limited my backpacking equipment to meet 3 main objectives:

I wanted a tent that didn’t leak, a sleeping bag that kept me warm and a pack that stood up to the harsh environment of the trail - all of which had to be combined into as light a load as possible. The following is my current compliment of equipment and some of the purchasing rationale:

With clothing, accessories, first aid kit, food for 4 days and 2 liters of water, my loaded pack weighs about 45 pounds.

This was my first solo-backpacking hike in the heat of a Florida summer. I hiked 20+ miles in 3 days with my old Kelty internal frame pack that collapses with over 35 pounds. As I knew in advance that the well at the 1^st campsite was dry, I packed 4 liters of water and carried over 50 pounds. The temperature was in the mid 80’s but the sun was mostly behind clouds. On the 1^st afternoon I got caught in the middle of a prairie when the sun came out. I had overestimated my endurance and quickly got over heated. I had to pitch the tent tarp in the middle of the trail, strip and lie down for several hours to avoid heat stroke. I consumed a lot of water and learned a valuable lesson. I arrived at the campsite later that afternoon with no other problems. It lightly rained that night but the tent and tarp kept everything dry.

Up and on the trail by dawn of day 2. I used my last water for breakfast and was fortunate to meet some ranchers riding their fence line within a couple of hours. They provided 2 quarts of water, pleasant conversation and I was on my way. I was at the 2^nd campsite by mid-afternoon where I rousted several wild turkeys. The deep well worked fine so I had a sponge bath and filtered plenty of water. My feet were sore and I didn’t bring camp shoes so I waked around camp in stocking feet . Bad idea! The sharp stones, pointed roots and sap from the trees quickly made a mess of both the stockings and my feet. My 2^nd lesson learned. I tried to do some stargazing after dusk, but it was still muggy and the sand flies were biting bad. I was into my tent by 8pm.

On the trail before sunrise on day 3 and finally saw wildlife. I surprised a momma and baby raccoon that scampered up a 50 ft. pine tree – showering me with bark shavings. I could just make out their eyes in the false dawn as they stared down at me. A short while later, I saw what I first thought was a tabby colored housecat as I left a tree line and emerged onto a grassy plain. The short pointed ears and the quick bounding run however convinced me I had spotted my first Florida Bobcat in the wild. Their presence in this part of the preserve was later confirmed by the rangers.

The final 8 miles out was along a power line. It seemed like every pole had an Osprey nest with young. My nose warned me with a distinctive odor of decay as I approached each pole. Several quick investigations uncovered skin and bones of small rodents that obviously had provided food to the osprey and then unceremoniously been dumped out of the nest to land at the base of the pole.

My car was unmolested after 3 days parked on the side of the road.

I had 2 new pieces of equipment for this solo hike:

Pack – Palisade (5200 cu.in.) by Gregory

Water System – Platypus (1 liter) with hydration tube and valve

After phone conversations with park personnel, my original plan was to hike the Coastal Prairie trail near the Flamingo Visitor Center. I drove down the day before and stayed in a hotel right outside the park. The next morning I drove the remaining 38 miles from the park entrance to the Flamingo Visitor Center only to be told that most of the trail was under water and the bugs were unseasonably dense. A short excursion proved all this correct. Plan 2 (hastily determined with the aid of rangers) was to hike the Old Ingraham Highway. It runs 11 miles from near the Royal Palm Visitor Center and dead-ends in the middle of the swamp.

This old road runs straight into the Everglades. It averages about 10 feet wide and almost all of it is above sea level (a few damp spots). Aside from birds and alligators, there is little other animal life. But oh the alligators! On hot days they bask in the grass on the edge of the road. They are almost invisible until my presence startles them and they crash back into the water. The noise and motion in the otherwise quiet environment takes a bit of getting used to. The good news of course is that they are running away from you. They are well fed by nature and unaccustomed to humans.

I reached the Coe campground (a wide spot in the road) by mid-afternoon. There was absolutely nothing to indicate this is a campground unless you spot an old marker covered by brush and trees at the edge of the water. As I was setting up camp, a biker whizzed by on his return to the Royal Palm Visitor Center. So much for isolation!

The night was quiet and uneventful – ignoring the grunts of alligators and birdcalls. I watched the stars through the screen top of my tent and there were no city lights to mask them. In the morning I was surprised to see a log under where I had hung my food. I didn’t remember it from the night before. The noise from unzipping my tent however, caused the "log" to disappear into the water.

After breakfast I strolled down the road with coffee cup in hand to watch the sunrise. It sure rises low to the horizon when you’re standing on an ocean of grass. I found an old road sign indicating a curve in the road ahead. It was held upright with brush and vines as the mounting pole was nowhere to be found.

The next camp was 10 miles further down the road, but it became apparent that one blade of grass looked just like another. As I would have to retrace all my steps (Ingraham highway was a dead –end) I decided to turn back. The bright sunshine now at my back allowed me to spot the gators before I startled them. I was amazed and scared at how close I came (20- 30 feet) before they became aware of me. A cool breeze in November made it an enjoyable return.

A point of interest. All water sources in the park (drinking fountains, spigots, etc.) had been disabled because of contamination. I was advised to carry all my water (and I did) because of high mercury content that my purifier might not be able to remove.

The Citrus tract of this forest is 42, 000 acres and almost in the center of the state. After a 4-hour drive, I started on the trail in the late afternoon. It was warm and I hiked alone in a tee shirt. As it would be dark before 6, I covered about 5 miles and then camped at the edge of a meadow with trees at my back.

The stars were out in full glory and the clear skies should have been a clue to falling temperatures. In the morning my tent poles were frozen with icicles on them from my breath. I had to wait until after sunrise for the ice to melt and break camp. I also had a cold breakfast as my lighter would spark but not produce a flame. (Hmmm – where was my backup?). The lighter had spent the night inside my cooking pot, which was damp from cleaning after dinner. As the lighter worked fine when I got home, I can only surmise that the wick had absorbed the moisture from within the pot and subsequently frozen.

A good portion of the land had been "clear-cut" and not replanted. It was mostly sand and short scrub pines with a few small ponds and no streams. As a result there was little wildlife or interesting vegetation. Like most state forests, there were intersecting dirt roads in 1-mile increments, so there was more motor traffic in the forest than I expected. I cut the planned 3-day trip to 2 and hiked 12 miles out on the 2^nd day.

This was my first hike with a buddy. I met Ed at work just before I retired and discovered we had a common interest in hiking. As this was our first time hiking together, we decided we would each bring our normal complement of equipment. Ed had a 1-man bevy tent and alcohol stove – both new to me.

Blackwater is 183,000 acres in NW Florida, bordering on Alabama. It is comprised of rolling woodlands, lakes and streams. It was a 7-hour drive and we stayed in a hotel outside the Forest. The next morning we parked in the Southern campground of Karick Lake. For a small fee, the campground host (Harry Cole) provided a shuttle to the SW terminus of Jackson Trail.

We hiked the 21 mile Jackson trail from SW to NE. There were no streams or rivers in the lower section so during the shuttle we stashed water about a half-mile from a shelter where we planned to camp the 1^st night. The day was enjoyable and sunny but the temperature was unseasonably warm (low of 55 to a high of 80 degrees) . We had an easy and enjoyable walk over gently rolling woods and made camp as planned. I pitched my tent in the open, Ed put his under the lee of the shelter to avoid the morning dew. I learned how alcohol stoves worked and watched Ed eat beef stew out of the can to avoid any dirty dishes. Each to their own.

On day 2 the trail followed many unimproved roads and we got engrossed in tracks – some animal and some human. Turkey, raccoon, dog (maybe fox) and what we think was a small bear. The latter were over 4 inches in diameter and a later review in my Tom Brown’s Field Guide seems to confirm it. I was surprised by their close proximity to civilization. The downside of tracking along dirt roads is that you fail to notice when the trail leaves the road and re-enters the forest. As a result we had to backtrack several times to find the trail.

At one point the trail followed a paved road for over a mile. As there were few blazes, we were not sure we were really on the trail. People waved and talked from their front lawns, but were unaware of any hiking trails along the road. Makes you wonder if many hikers take the Jackson trail. But we were right and continued on.

Around noon we were on another dirt road and passed a field where a farmer was spreading seed in long rows – up and back, up and back. Soon a pickup truck arrived and waited in the shade at the end of one of these rows. The farmer stopped nearby, walked to the pickup and a woman got out. They opened the bed of the truck and proceeded to have lunch. It was as picturesque as American pie!

Later in the afternoon we rested beside a stream, replenished our water supplies using my purifier and had a snack. Ed checked the moleskin he had applied to a blister early in the morning and all was fine. We had to cross several more dirt roads before we left civilization behind and camped. We had a good rain that night but both packs stayed dry in the 22-ft. vestibule of my tent. The morning of day 3 brought clear skies. Ed likes to sleep late, but we had breakfast, covered the final 5 miles and were back at the car by late morning. Ed brought a camera and we took pictures of each other at random times throughout the trip. I hope they turn out.

I first got the idea for this trip from an article in Outdoor Magazine in late 1999. The author had highlighted two trails (the "Silent" and the "Skyway") that interconnected with the Pinhoti trail to make a 17-mile loop. The Pinhoti (pronounced with a long "O") runs for over 100 miles within the state and goes through the Cheaha Wilderness Area.

This section of the Pinhoti runs along ridge tops and I was warned about the lack of water. The day before my hike, I bushwhacked up to the Pinhoti trail from access road 649 on the South side of the ridge and stashed a gallon of water. It’s a tough, rocky scramble up 1,000 feet from either side of the ridge.

I planned to begin and end my hike in the Lake Chinnabee Recreation Area on the "Silent" trail. The access road to the Recreation Area didn’t open until May 15 however, and I didn’t want to leave my car parked on the side of the road for several days. As an alternate, I parked at Turnipseed Hunter camp - about 4 miles away. The "Silent" Trail ran right past this camp so all I did was camp there the night before and start my hike from there the following morning. This effectively just shifted my beginning / ending points clockwise around a circle.

My plan was always to camp at least the first night on the Pinhoti (thus the stashed water). As my start was now 4 miles closer, I made the ridge before noon. With a pack (but on a trail as opposed to bushwhacking) the ascent on the North slope was no more difficult than the previous day. To my surprise however, there was a running stream about 100 yards from the junction of the "Silent" and the Pinhoti. It was not on the topo map and the rangers never mentioned it! Oh well – now water would not be a problem on this hike. Ha – stay tuned!

I stashed my pack (and used the top which converts into a fanny pack), to begin exploring the Pinhoti going North. I soon learned that "Wilderness Area" means VERY few trail signs with no roads or structures – everything is left wild. Following the trail through brush was not a problem, but on exposed rock it was real easy to lose. Numerous side trails to the summit made staying on the main trail even more unpredictable. But wild it was – and I found a picturesque vista for lunch about 3 miles later.

I hiked back to my pack (found it with no problem) and proceeded South along the ridge for several miles to the area where I had stashed the water. I made camp high on the summit (about 2200’) amongst pine trees and 200’ feet off the trail. I recovered my water stash, had dinner, watched the sunset from some really great vistas and went to bed a contented man. I listened to the wind howl all night long and slept great.

The morning was COLD (probably in the low 40s) and wind was blowing at least 25 mph with stronger gusts. I dressed in every piece of clothing except my poncho, quickly broke camp and started hiking to generate heat. Shortly thereafter I encountered Chuck Wilson ( flswampeagle@aol.com ) hiking North and we stopped to chat. He’s from Florida and plans to hike from Key West to Canada. His wife Betty drives the house trailer, plans his next segments (maps, trails, provisions, etc.) and meets him every couple of days at trailheads. Good luck to them both.

3 hours and 6 miles later I was at Adams Gap (1400’). By now I had stripped to a T-shirt and hiking shorts. The "Skyway" trail begins here for the 6.6 mi trip back to the Lake Chinnabee Recreation Area. The trail went along a steep slope and was heavily covered with leaves. The leaves didn’t make the trail hard to read, but they hid places where the trail had washed out. I "found" the first wash-out about 20 minutes later and took a pretty good tumble. When you step into a deep void on the downhill side, your body twists and the pack becomes an unstoppable pendulum. I landed on my back (on top of the pack) and rolled several times before I was able to hook a tree. Shaken but not really hurt, I scrambled back up to the trail and proceeded more cautiously. I found 2 more wash-outs but both times I was able to drop to my knees and avoid rolling. It was slow and hot, and I drank a lot of water.

Later in the afternoon I entered a burnt-out area. The smell was not strong so I guess the fire was a year or two earlier. Everything was covered in soot and anything that touched it became black. Even the small streams looked unhealthy and I wasn’t comfortable using them as a source of drinking water. No fun! I didn’t want to camp in this mess but it got dark before I was out of it. I pitched my tent on what looked like an old wagon road. It had some returning green and was the only clear spot I found. Dinner had a distinct charcoal taste.

Up and on the trail before dawn, I cleared the burned area in a mile (wouldn’t you know it). I stopped by a clear, cool stream – cleaned up, made a hot breakfast and replenished my water. The remaining 2 miles on the "Skyway" trail and the following 4 miles on the "Silent" trail were pleasant. Some great waterfalls and canyon views on the lower "Silent" trail with steps and handrails for tourists. I bet this section gets really crowded in the summertime.

I stopped for lunch along the trail at the Cheaha Falls Shelter. A sign told me that this shelter was removed from the Pinohti trail by helicopter when that section was declared a Wilderness Area. I arrived back at Turnipseed Hunters Camp about 2 p.m. I shared coffee with a camper who was an Electrical Engineer (designed compilers) and was taking several months off. We spent 2 hours discussing compilers and DSL while sitting in an area that had neither phones nor computers. Seems strange now, but was pleasant at the time.

My car was fine although heavily covered in light green pollen. I had to wash the windows before I could see well enough to drive. I had planned to spend the night in a hotel, clean up, replenish supplies and hike another section of the Pinohti trail a little farther North. When I stopped by the Ranger station to acquire the maps, I found out that much of the North section of the trail had also recently burned. That was not my idea of fun, so I started the 12-hour drive back home.

My second hike with Ed - who has hiked portions of this section every year for the last 10 years. Our plan was to take 3 days to hike from Deep Gap to Wallace Gap via the Appalachian Trail. This section of the trail makes a 22-mile loop around the rim of Standing Indian Basin. Ed arranged for parking and a shuttle from the Rainbow Springs campground (1 mile from Wallace Gap) to our starting point at Deep Gap. We left home at 6 am and arrived in Franklin, NC about 4pm. We had a dinner and slept in a small hotel.

The temperature in the morning was 39 degrees. There were many hikers at Rainbow Springs campground waiting for their shuttle. For most of them, the campground was a stop on the trail to replenish supplies, wash clothes and take a shower. Ed and I were the only ones being shuttled to Deep Gap. At the Deep Gap trailhead, we encountered 2 members of the local trail association preparing to repaint trail markers on a northern section. I hope I’m in their shape when I get that age!

We began our hike about 10 am. I had pulled a calf muscle a day or 2 before and had it wrapped in an ace bandage. Mistake! With the hilly terrain, my calf started to hurt within a couple of hours. I then strained the other leg trying to compensate. I began to hum that old song "ankle bone connected to the knee bone. Knee bone connected to the hip bone. Hip bone connected to the…..". Anyway we began to make plans to bail out at the next connector trail to a road. I slowed my pace and really started using the hiking pole for support. When we reached the connector trail, both legs were feeling better. After a rest, I decided to go on.

I reached the Carter Gap shelter at 4,600 ft, and found it already occupied by another hiker that had passed me earlier in the day. Ed then arrived and let us both know we were in the "old" shelter and the "new" shelter was on the other side of the trail. The three of us moved there and were shortly joined by 4^th hiker - a buddy of the other hiker. He had a big Labrador Retriever – quiet, well trained and behaved. The 2 buddies talked about just completing their first 20-mile day. That really made me feel old - as I had just struggled through 9 miles with pulled muscles. We all slept in the shelter, 4 sleeping bags in a row. I woke up whenever someone got up, rolled over or coughed. This didn’t meet my expectation of quiet and solitude.

The next morning I watched both of the other hikers bandage the most complete set of foot blisters I had ever seen. Their comment was "you should have seen these a couple of days ago". Ouch! They left separately and we never saw them again – as they planned another 20-mile day.

Day 2 was shorter (6.8 miles) but the trail guide warned of a 1.5 mile section where we would be "slabbing" up the very steep face of Big Butt. Calling this a trail was an overstatement. It was holes, tree roots, loose gravel, wash-outs and loose slabs of rocks – all along the steep mountain face. I cinched my pack tight to my back to improve my balance and crossed without mishap. The final 2 miles included a sharp ascent and decent from Albert mountain (5,250’). There is a bypass road that reaches about 5,100’ but at a more gradual incline. With my legs still tender, Ed advised that I take the bypass and we did. We reached Big Spring Gap shelter in another mile and met Thea from Australia.

This was Thea’s first trip to the US. She arrived 2 weeks ago in Atlanta and has been hiking solo for 10 days. She is a graduate student who took a 6-month sabbatical to thru-hike the Appalachian trail. She is slowly working up her daily mileage – now at about 10 miles per day. Thus far she has avoided blisters and hopes to reach Mt Katahdin this year. Two brothers who were starting a weekend hike joined us. Lots of good conversation, but we all pitched tents nearby for the solitude we were seeking. Ed slept in the shelter alone.

I was the first one up in the morning. I made tea and cereal, hiked about a mile up the trail to a bald and watched the sunrise while eating breakfast. When I returned, everyone was stirring. Thea left first, followed by the brothers. Typical trail relationships - fleeting but enjoyable.

My legs were feeling pretty good. I took off before Ed and kept up a steady pace to Glassmine Gap and down to Rock Gap shelter. Wallace Gap was less than a mile ahead and the car at Rainbow Springs a mile beyond that. I left Ed a note and continued on to the car. I left my pack at Rainbow Springs and drove back to pick up Ed – who was now walking down the road. We returned to Rainbow Springs, packed our gear, cleaned up and treated ourselves to a cold drink and ice cream. Ah – the simple pleasures.

By 2 PM we started the drive back. We spent the nigh in a motel well South of Atlanta and were home by 1 PM. on Sunday (Mother’s day). In a strange quirk of events Ronni (my wife) was gone. Knowing that I would miss part of Mother’s day, I had previously arranged for flowers to be sent. The flowers were there, but she had gone to Nashville, TN to visit my daughter. Oh well – a guy tries to stay out of trouble and it still bites him in the a…

Except for a few bad sections this was a nice hike. Water was never a problem, but with clear sunny skies it was unseasonably warm (50 to 85 degrees). I developed a profile of this trip using a software package from Maptech. It listed the distance as 21.4 miles with 5,148 feet of ascent, 4,489 feet of descent and an average grade of 10%.