ULH

I've started researching ultralight gear recently with an idea of PCT in mind. There are too many links and useful info and I am starting to feel overwhelmed. I will use this post to classify everything. BTW if you know any links that are not listed here, or just have any advice/ideas PLEASE feel free to share!


GENERAL INFO:
Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail Website
PCTHicker
Pacific Crest Trail Association


JOURNALS:
PCTHicker (1999-2003)
PCTA (up to 2007!!!)
Trail Journals (not only PCT)
Henry Shires


PERSONAL PAGES:
John O'Mahoney
Ray Jardine
Rick Halbert
Onestep
Adventure Alan


UL GEAR:
Troubadour's and Nocona & Bald Eagle's gear lists and reviews. (PCTHicker)
Light Gear Forums
Backpacking Lightweight
Centrewalk's gear list


GENERAL GEAR REVIEW:
Trailspace
Moontrail


GEAR:
Granite Gear


MAKE YOUR OWN GEAR:
Backpacking.net (general)
Henri Shires (tarp/tent system)
John (stove) and some MORE


PACKS:
McHale


BOOKS:
Journey on the Crest: Walking 2600 Miles from Mexico to Canada
Dances with Marmots
PCTHicker selection
Rick's selection


LINKS:
PCTHicker links
Centerwalk's link


PCT MAPS:
PCTHicker
PCTA
Henry Shires


APPALACHIAN TRAIL MAPS:
John's


UL FAQ:
John's

Down the Richelieu River Part 3

Our first morning in the US was cool and grayish. The wind was getting stronger and the weather radio announced the speed of wind to be 15 knots.

We enjoyed yet another porridge breakfast, drank the coffee, and went to explore the neighborhood in search of the map. Right next to the “Barcomb” marina we saw another one. The owner spoke French and, as it turned out, was from Canada. Just like everyone else he was very surprised to find out that we crossed the border by kayaks and suggested that we take a break for one day, because of the very windy weather conditions: “The wind is at least 20 knots and won’t die off until late afternoon”.

We decided to take off despite the warnings. Our plan was to cross to the East side, through the hole in the half-burned wooden rail-bridge and check the weather conditions on the other side.

It was the first time I’ve paddled in such windy weather. If usually a paddler has to fight the current, we had to fight the wind, which was pushing the boats, and the paddles, slowing us down to 1 km/h (instead of regular 4km/h). We also had to pay attention to the direction of the waves (it’s not fun to flip-over in the middle of the unfamiliar crossing) as well as the half-burned poles of the old bridge sticking out of the water. Some of the poles were short enough to be hidden by waves and only when the water would recess we would see their dangerous ends couple of centimeters away from the boats.

But all is well that ends well and almost an hour later we were paddling next to the Eastern shore realizing that the wind is as strong here as it was on the other side. The rain started drizzling over our heads; we “parked” the boats, and decided to wait until the wind dies off.

Anna and John came home an hour later. They were quite surprised to find 2 kayakers on their front yard;

- Judging by the sky, the weather won’t change until tomorrow – said Anna, - but you are welcome to crash in the corner of the yard.
- Would you need an extension cord? Something warm? I won’t be OK until I’ll know that you are good – said John.

It feels SO comforting to meet people who are nice to the crazy kayakers ;)

And so we had half a day to set up the tarp and the tent, watch the rain, rest, eat (Thai soup and Vegetable couscous with textured vegetable protein), and get ready for more adventures.

To be continued ....

Down the Richelieu River Part 2

Nothing bothered us during the night and the morning was calm and pleasant. Our third day was as sunny and warm as the previous ones. Eric was getting impatient to get to the boarder so I made a fast porridge breakfast, packed everything in the boat, and waited for him to get ready. The river was busier that day; the little fish were jumping out of the water, the motor-boats were zooming by, and the fishermen were waiting for their catch in their crafts.

After half-a-day of paddling we finally reached the “big golden buoy”. The concept of border always puzzled me, and if it is pretty straightforward on the ground, I couldn’t wait what would the Canadian-American boarder look like in the middle of the Richelieu River. As it turns out the actual boarder is identified by the big golden buoy but the office of the American Border Patrol where you have to register your crossing is in the nearest marina.

“Barcomb” marina made me think of the American movies: a saloon-type of place that smells like beer and French fries, the regulars sitting at the bar, the barwoman (Sue) running the place, and ….. two Canadians dressed in the wet-suits, clogs, bandanas, and spray skirts asking about registering the kayak-crossing. All the head turned when we entered the place and we were explained that during the off-season the officer waits in his office for a phone call, and once we fill out the paper he would come to talk to us. While waiting for the officer we met Steve who told us stories about his life all over the States.

An hour later the officer showed up......

It was the first time he saw kayaks crossing the boarder and had no idea how to fill up the necessary papers. After talking to the head-office he registered the boats and we were free to go! However, it was getting dark and we had to look for a place to stay. We went back to the bar to inquire about the nearest beach where we could’ve spend the night, but everything nearby was a private property so Sue offered us a patch of grass next to the marina, which was more than enough for our tent.

The evening and the morning after were somewhat surreal. The street right next to us, the highway-bridge on the left, houses, cars, people ….. although Rouses Point is a very little and quiet city. We ate the dinner (another Thai soup and Thai yellow curry with vegetables and textured vegetable protein over rice noodles), drank some tea, went back to marina to say “Goodnight” to Sue, who was watching “House” and cuddled up in the sleeping bags.

To be continued ....

Down the Richelieu River Part 1

Our 7 days trip to the Chaplain Lake started on the bright Saturday afternoon. We drove to the Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu and put our kayaks in the water next to the St. Therese Island. The day was warm, the sun was up high, and we were impatient to discover the beauty of the lake.

According to the calculations we would get to the border the next day and spend the whole week paddling among the islands, visiting Plattsburgh, and crossing to Vermont. The paddle down the canal was calm and effortless. The sun was still quite bright above our heads, the weather was wonderful, not too hot or too cool, the water was calm, and the people walking on the shore were friendly and smiley. After couple of hours of paddling we snacked on “Clif” bars and decided to keep going despite the approaching evening. After couple of more kilometers we saw ….. the locks!!! Jean-Claude warned us that there were 7 locks on the Richelieu River. Starting as low as the St. Therese Island we were sure to clear all of them, but … alas! …. we couldn’t go any further and had to portage!!!! It was the first portage in my life (kayakers are not as used to caring their belongings as canoeists) and I hated every second of it. The boats were very heavy, still filled with all the food, and I was pretty tired. I tried to “cheat” and most of the time Eric was carrying 80% of the boats’ weight (but hey, he is the guy, right?) ;)

The portage was done and the river opened up in front of us; the big marina on one side, motor boats anchored next to the shore…. The sun was going down but we decided to paddle “just a bit more” until we would find a nice place to crash. The river at night looks almost mystical. At one point the light mist raised over the water and we would try to guess what was coming up in front of us judging by the dimmed lights.

It was getting darker and colder and we had to stop for the night. On the shore at our right we’ve noticed a street lamp…. Yeah a street lamp in the middle of nowhere. It turned out to be the end of the road with a huge house on one side and an empty lawn on the other. The house was dark and uninhabited so we assumed that our “squatting” for the night would not cause any problems.

The temperature dropped significantly and as soon as we stopped moving we felt chills. We changed in the set of dry clothes, and while Eric was putting up the tent, I made a big pot of chili to keep us warm and full. Before we knew, the chili was eaten and we were both crawling in to the tent, half asleep.


“Is everything OK?” – a man’s voice woke me up in the morning.
“Yeah, we are good. Is it your terrain?” – answered Eric.

It turned out that the owner of the house came home late last night and did not notice us on his land. He had nothing against us staying for couple of days. He even explained to us that the apple trees were sick and apples were not very good, whereas plums were much nicer and we should feel free to pick as much as we want.
Eric went to pick some plums and I started the breakfast:
Orange juice followed by fried potatoes with mushrooms and vegan sausages. And definitely some coffee.

It was getting nice and warm, we didn’t want to waste any more time so we packed our belongings in the boats and set off. Our next destination was the American boarder.

Paddling on the river is quite different from paddling in the canal. You have to pay attention to upcoming boats, to the coast line, to the bottom that could get shallow pretty fast. Moreover, you should not paddle anywhere but stick to the canal, separated by green and red buoys. But the best part of paddling in the river is the WAVES that passing boats leave behind. We would stop every now and then to bob on the waves, or to cross them perpendicularly.

Once again, we were taking it easy and before we knew we were passing the Lennox Fort. Checking with the map Eric announced that we would still not make it to the American boarder today, and the Fort would be an ideal place to stay for the night.

The sign said “no camping” but the island was empty, so we decided to go in the Fort and ask if we can camp for one night. It turned out that the offices were closed and the only man we’ve met said that during the off-season period we would not bother anyone by pitching the tent in the corner of a huge field.

The field was big indeed with picnic tables, trash cans, and nice access to the water – a true heaven for kayakers. We made the camp and I slowly got to cooking. This time it would be a light soup from the “Thai cuisine” and to stay faithful to the Asian cuisine I made stir-fry vegetables with rice noodles.

Amazing part of camping in autumn is the speed of weather and light change. Early in the morning you don’t want to get out of the tent because it is quite chilly outside, but once you stay in the sun for two-three minutes you get warm and even hot. The sun keeps working hard the entire day and the temperature rises significantly but towards four-five o’clock it gets cooler again and when the sun sets you have to put on your warm fleece, hat, and gloves. It all happens very fast because the sun sets in the matter of an hour or so and the darkness falls fast.

Once the supper was finished we made some hot tea with Marzipan “Ritter Sport” chocolate – our favorite dessert – and we were both ready to get in our sleeping bags.

to be continued .....

Equipment

The food-related post or two are coming up tomorrow. Meanwhile, here are new "toys"



"Komperdell" Antishock Fire Trekking Poles - a "not a gift" birthday gift from Eric





"Max-mtn" mat - a gift to myself (?)






Getting ready for winter!!!

Urban Hiking

Before starting the story of our next adventure I have to tell you about my baby. I saw her couple of years ago. Was it a love at the first sight? Most probably. I remember looking at these pictures

and being amazed by her wonderful frame and her elegant beauty.

I dreamed about the baby for a year, holding it every time I was in the store, imagining our adventures together……. But all this time I was waiting for some sort of sign, saying that “it’s time to get it!” The sign did not come, and I was ready to day-dream for another winter, when one day I went to “Atmosphere” to get my new sexy shoes. With the shoe-box under my arm we (Eric and me) went to the tent department. The end-of-the-season sale was on and all the tents were 20% off (on top of already the lowest price for the baby in Montreal!!!). However no babies were seen in the store - just a picture in the catalog. Eric took a chance to ask a sale-girl if they still carry this model of the tent…… and…… it turned out that the last baby is waiting for my in the Angrignon mall!!!! If that wasn’t a sign, then what was it?

Now I am a happy owner of the wonderful “Hubba” tent (which is referred to as “baby” from now on) by MSR. It’s a 1-person 3-season most beautiful tent there is!!! And our next adventure is the first adventure of my little baby.

Urban Hiking.

For the Labor Day week-end we decided to go hiking. Instead of driving to the park, getting a camp-ground and hike during the day we took the train to Dorion in hope of squatting down somewhere next to the river. The train stopped in the nice area full of pretty houses:

We made our way to the nearest depanneur, bought a map of the area, and started the adventure. We decided to walk along the coast line which would be up (North) on the Chemin Des Chenaux, following the coast of the Vaudreuil Bay. With water on one side and nice houses on the other (I am a sucker for pretty old houses and can’t help but peek in the windows once in a while) the walk was super cool for a Saturday afternoon. Walking and talking for couple of hours we started to think about the place to rest. Sure we can ask one of the house owners to stay in their backyard (or rather front yard with the water view) but that would be a bit too urban for our liking so we kept walking until we got to …… the highway! The magnificent 40 was crossing our path.

Sleeping under the highway has some advantages (no rain) but also has a disadvantage of noise and some possible guests so we decided to keep this option as a last resort and continue walking along the highway to the end of the little peninsula. The Tourtes Island looked somewhat promising, but we did not have any equipment for crossing the water. After walking for half-an-hour we realized that the only place where we could stay on the Southern part of the highway would be a huge hotel (Palace the Vaudreuil, if I am not mistaken). We entertained the idea of pitching our tents on top of the king-size bed in one of the suites and finally decided to cross the highway and check out the Northern side.

After more walking along the highway we found a very interesting spot next to the water. A couple that was fishing there told us that half of the grass patch belongs to Hydro Quebec (could it be that they are getting some gas there???) but as long as we don’t try to climb the fence or set anything on fire we should be good. The spot looked pretty nice: grass, flat surface, woods right next to it, water right in front, the magnificent 40 close enough to remind us that we are not in the wilderness ;) who can ask for more? We took off the bags and started setting up the camp.
I opened my bag and carefully took out my baby. It would be the first time I would pitch it, the first time I would be sleeping inside it (I don’t count the week of sleeping inside it in my room – yeah yeah I pitched the tent in my bedroom and slept inside it with the door zipped! Crazy? Don’t think so. So I’ll let the pictures show the excitement and the sanctity of the moment:



The baby was out, pitched, guyed, and ready for the night. Now it was time for ….. cooking! I found a spot closer to the water and worked on the classical Pasta with Red Sauce.



After supper I realized that I was very tired so I got into the tent and started the usual routine:

No, I am not praying – I am hanging the lantern to warm up the place.

Eric was quite unhappy about the 2 tents camping scenario….

Day two was the day of adventure. We carefully studied the map and picked Cadieux Island as the final destination. Good old Chemin Des Chenaux should eventually lead us to the little bridge that would bring us to the island. We drank the coffee, ate the porridge, packed up the tents, and hit the road.
After an hour of walking we’ve noticed that the houses around us were changing; instead of the older ones we were surrounded by newly build boxes that all looked the same. Each new street looked exactly like the previous one: grey asphalt, grayish houses with new cars in the drive-ways, carefully trimmed grass lawns with no trees…… it was the new part of the town that was not fully developed, yet. The real adventure started when the streets that according to the map were parallel started to intersect in reality! Could it be that we’ve reached that wonderful place in the infinity where all the parallel lines meet??? The answer was far less exciting - it turned out that the map was rather old and the part of the city was rather new and this whole region was only projected on the map.

Eric was ready to abandon the idea of visiting the island but I was full of adventurousness and after yet another careful look at the map we found the detour that would lead us to the island. Unfortunately this detour involved walking along the 40 in the industrial area. Nevertheless after couple of hours of walking we stepped on the little bridge and crossed to the island.

Cadieux Island is narrow and long. It seems like originally there was nothing but a forest on it. Today it has one main road with houses on each side of it and the “free” places are full of trees. I fell in love with the place right away despite the fact that most of the houses are humongous and have up to 5 cars (BMW, Audi, and other shi-shi-poo-poo models) on their driveways. The island still carries the feeling of wilderness and calmness.
The main road led us to the tip of the island, which was blocked by the fence. On the right side of it there was an empty space possibly the remains of an old federal/municipal building. It had a dock with the flag pole, small abandoned cabin, and the leftovers of the base of the building. Tall grass grew all over and the place and looked just perfect for an overnight squatting.

That day was the first real testing of my baby. I had to set up the tent in very windy conditions. The baby passed the test with distinction. But the wind was testing not only my tent’s strength but my cooking abilities. I had to find the spot where all the dehydrated ingredients would not be blown away in the river. Here is the result and the picture of a wonderful “Tousqui” (tout ce qu’il rest) soup we had for the supper.

Despite the emptiness and abandonees of the place it did not have any spooky or scary feel to it. Soon we’ve realized that we are surrounded by others…… mostly slugs. The tall grass was there preferred habitat and everything left on the ground for longer than an hour became their play-ground.
Apart from leaches we had some daddy-long-legs and caterpillars.

Our last day started with the breakfast on the dock. The wind died off over the night, the water was calm, and although the sky was grey the sun was trying to burn its way through the clouds. Eric was enjoying the view from the doc and I was busy snapping the auto portraits.

Then I saw the POLE! I have recently read in the newspaper about the new exercise technique that combines useful (exercising) with fun (pole-dancing). It seems to be the latest hype among the stars in the Hollywood. Even in Canada we have some courses and females or rather their boyfriends/husbands are very happy with the results.
I like dancing, I am in need for exercises, and the pole is right there…. What am I waiting for?




After the pole-dancing and more goofing around it was time to pack and go.



Back on the road of the Cadieux island I was peeking at the houses and taking the pictures of pretty mail-boxes.

We made our way to Dorion and still had several hours before the train. I decided to be a real tourist and take pictures of all the cool stuff, like these wonderful duckies in the window of the boutique (you can see us in the reflection – hey!!!!)

The analogue thermometer on the corner of the street – we have only digital ones in Montreal

And the cool “statue” (?) of the bird

Sight-seeing made us hungry so it was time for lunch. We had a choice between: rotisserie, pizzeria, Tim Hortons, bar, and Asian Restaurant (alas, nothing vegan). Asian place, our first choice, was closed so we went to “the best pizza in town” place. I have to give them credit their pizza was very good and cheeeeeeeeeesy.

Eric had a poutine with 2 slices of pizza. He felt guilty for eating so much and fell into deep thoughts about not only his eating habits and purpose of this trip, but the meaning of his life in general. Meanwhile I was taking some pictures of him.



But hey, I want some serious pictures of myself too. I can’t show my parents only the pole-dancing, right? So I posed:

And posed (I am trying really hard not to burst with laughter)

And posed some more:

Our train was leaving in an hour so we made our way to the station. The darkness was falling over the city, lights were turning on in the houses, and streets were getting empty. The first urban hiking experience was really cool ….who knows we might do it again – time to think of the dew destination.