It was morning, and still. Another dark and stormy night had passed as March 2006, in all its ironic flippancy, had brought with it a cavalcade of snowy storms, and contrary to the previous month's sun, winter rain, and cold wind, the new pack of snow on and around the house absorbed all external sound, making for particularly deep and cave-like dreams in our morning slumber.
Out of this silence shrilled the telephone, of all things, and like a well-trained, on-duty fireman in the firehouse when the alarm goes off, I slung the covers aside and raced for the phone, my brain several feet behind me---a miasma of dream fragments and crystalline shards of Utopian yearning.
"Hello?" I said, still waiting for coherence to apply to my new reality. "Gene...it's Tim ... Hippie Tim" came the reply. "I hope I didn't wake you or anything but I just couldn't help but call you to tell you this idea I had before I forgot it or whatever."
By this time I was back in bed, not having noticed the time, but cognizant of the fact that I now had a phone stuck to my ear and that my feet were no longer suffering from hypothermia. "What is it?" I asked. I was all ears by now, as a call from Tim Burson is a rarity indeed, and with his excitement so apparent, this was a truly momentous occasion.
Thusly prompted and encouraged, he told me what was on his mind, and it haunted me for the rest of the year until now; I hereby reveal Tim's Idea, and present it to you for your consideration:
(I now leave the first-person narrative and take up my usual concise writing style, without too many unneeded descriptive elements or self-indulgent forays into lengthy, confusing and totally superfluous run-on sentences which turn into unreadable chunks of text that are glossed over all-too-frequently as the concerned persons are not as interested in how I wrote myself out of whatever corner I have written myself into, but are looking instead for the salient points or "meat" of the article as opposed to the blathering prose so laboriously created seemingly for my own amusement. Not far from the truth, that!)
Read on, fellow adventurers!
The Scenario:
The seventh annual Mt. Shasta Snow Trip, Friday through Sunday, February ninth, tenth, and eleventh, the year two-thousand seven. Mt. Shasta City, California .....
Traditionally, at least in the sense that it has happened six years in a row out of the six years of the Shasta Snow Trip prior, we have considered Saturday a "play" day, and (most of us) gone up to Castle Lake for ice-fishing, horsing around, snow driving, and general mayhem, then gotten stuck (or attempted to), and later froze our hubcaps off at Bunny Flat eating the fast-chilling grub cooked up around a bodacious bonfire with the buses casting their shadows on the twenty-foot snowbanks surrounding us.
It is true that the facilitation of Tim's Idea will very likely impact the aforementioned tradition in a way some Newts have already expressed as a bummer. One very likely cause of this disruption is another, not-so-lofty tradition: That unassailable inertia that overcomes unwary Shastians the day after a seventeen to twenty-two-hour driving day which followed considerable days, weeks, even months of tiresome preparation; all of which culminates now, on Saturday morning of the Shasta Trip, and renders all but the most stalwart early-risers helpless and immobile until at least nine-o'clock, and then inflicts a kind of befuddled somnambulism on the bleary-eyed Newts. This, of course, results in the majority of the group actually getting on the road to mayhem, rampaging and cold toes at eleven-o'clock or (gasp!) later!
The other reason that reactions to this Proposal may contain traces of reluctance is that in order to take the time necessary to accomplish the primary goal of this endeavor, such time must be taken either from our sleep/recuperation/breakfast time, as insinuated in the previous paragraph, or that a significant portion of the Castle Lake experience be spent on this alternative activity. Understand, however, that all pre-arranged events are voluntary, as is every aspect of the Trip, to be sure, but that the purpose of this document is to share plans as they exist, and provide a framework against which to fill with the details which can only happen through the act of experiencing what ever it is that we set ourselves up for, in this case, certain death by starvation and hypothermia, with some complications caused by enraged Yeti or renegade Lemurians.
As far as I have been able to sustain thought on this matter, logic suggests that in lieu of sacrificing any one or more complete experiences in order to have another, totally different experience, a relatively inconsequential amount of time should be "borrowed" from several donor apportionments of time. Arising a bit earlier and mobilizing by, say, 9:30 am, as opposed to 11:00, would yield an hour-and-a-half, which, by itself, would serve as half the primary mission time allocation. Not spending several hours on Castle Lake would obviously bequeath the same hours to the Cabin Trek, and NOT getting stuck in some stupid snowdrift in such a manner as to require more hours of extrication by multiple Newts (howevermuch fun that can be!) would allow us to risk getting stuck in a similar fashion as we learn about some of the backroads between the cinder cone (Black Butte) and the base of Mt. Shasta.
So hear ye! (That means "Listen up!") We
can have it all, and we will! Here's my idealized, untested, and heretofore unpublished version of that day in the future:
We rise from a restful sleep after an invigorating, exhilarating, and bummer-free Friday, at the end of which we were not late, nor were we totally exhausted. (Hey, it happened once, y'know; it can happen again!) At approximately 9:47:08 a.m., we (that is, "we" meaning those who choose to go along with this) rumble through the streets of Mt. Shasta, having eaten a sustaining, satisfying, yet quick breakfast (again, this is possible with proper forethought!), fueled up, and then head on up to Castle Lake to see the sights, slide around, and greet the spirits of the lake, which would be sad, offended, and potentially dangerous if we did not pay our respects with a visit, however fleeting. Time to Castle Lake and back should be held to approximately two hours max. Less would be better, but let's be realistic, schedule with buffers, hope for the best, and deal happily with whatever comes. Right.
Back in Mt. Shasta City around 11:45, we then strike northward, to a road which starts near the base of Black Butte and wends its way up the lower base of Mt. Shasta to meet with Everett Memorial Highway, which ultimately takes us to Bunny Flat, now termed "Upper Camp", our accommodations in town called "Base Camp", and our destination, as it were, shall be saddled with the moniker "Horse Camp" because that is what it is called, which is, in our case, quite odd, as we should be more surprised to see horses there, especially camping, than we would to stumble upon a Sasquatch Hootenanny, which would be bad luck in the most extreme.
I have a little information about this mystery road we would hopefully find passable, but not too much so, if you get my drift. One of the persons I talked to while doing lodging research learned to drive in the snow on that road, but said that it is one of the last to be plowed. Could be good, could be bad. One good thing, though, is that we should be able to access the Black Butte road by using the railroad frontage access road all the way up from the intersection near the cabins, as opposed to any major streets or highways. It is not far, really, but just the frontage road can be quite rewarding. There is a lot of potential for fun of the rampaging type on the railway frontage roads, as there is the possibility of getting into some trouble with the local gendarmes with regard to the trespassing aspect of it, but as per Shastian Tradition, we shall heartily ignore it and carry on as if we owned the place.
Eventually, we will, with plenty of time to accomplish our mission, (I'd say three hours) find ourselves at Bunny Flat, park the buses, strap on the snowshoes, and embark on our expedition to the stone cabin of the Sierra Club, at a place on the mountain called "Horse Camp". You can read a bit about Horse Camp and the cabin here: http://www.snowcrest.net/ecoshasta/shasta/ Obviously, the scene won't look like the photo on that page when we see it!
Meanwhile, those Newts who have chosen not to join the expedition to Horse Camp are at liberty to enjoy themselves in whatever manner they choose. Hopefully a contingent will go to Castle Lake and catch a mess of trout for us to eat later at the Bunny Flat Cookout, and others are welcome to go get stuck elsewhere, they can join us for the rampaging and exploration of the little roads at the northwest base of Mt. Shasta, or they can watch TV in the cabins or browse the local stores for more curios, clues, and paraphernalia pertaining to the U.F.O. sightings and unusual psychic phenomenon manifesting around the Shasta Vortex. Whatever works, hopefully, will work well, and we will all meet as usual at the Bunny Flat parking lot for a big fire, varied cuisine, (bring enough for your team, with mind to share, but don't try to feed everyone!), and moderate libation-lapping, all whilst hanging out with other similarly clothed, shivering Newts and their buses.
If you are still considering participating in the Horse Camp Expedition, you should be prepared for it in all ways possible. While the exertions and challenges of this little winter hike should not be sufficient to necessitate helicopter rescue, we should not wax cavalier in our regard to and respect of the mountain.
Never underestimate a natural force! These are good words to live by. Live by. Living. As in not dying.
That said, here's what you will need:
1. Fitness. If you do not exercise regularly, and/or live your daily life at relatively low elevation, seldom hike in the mountains, (especially cold snowy volcanos!) and/or have any physical or medical condition(s) that could prevent you from successfully and safely fulfilling an approximate 3-mile (round-trip), 1000ft. vertical ascent at elevations from 6,860 feet to 7,950 feet, in what could be rather gnarly conditions, either hot or cold, but most definitely in the snow, which you will be dressed for, then you must decline the challenge for the safety of yourself, the safety of those who would have to risk their own well-being should you need extraction, and just plain common sense, good judgement, and courtesy.
However, know that this is not intended to be a death-defying stunt or feat of speed. We will take our time, assure ourselves of our location using previous knowledge of the area, by map and compass, and the likely existence of tracks made by previous hikers, skiers, and snow-campers. There will be at least a couple fools dashing up the trail a ways to set up a camera, then dash back and rejoin the group for a trudge-by, collecting the camera after the shot, and repeating the process, but most participants will be able to simply stomp up the mountain at a quite reasonable pace.
It would be well-advised, however, if you do not already, to engage in some regular aerobic and strength training of some type should you are planning on making this journey. It will not require that much, really, but some physical preparation and conditioning should be undertaken. Remember: Do not underestimate this natural force that is Winter, and it is Mt. Shasta!
2. Gear: It could be assumed by now that if you're going to do this, and do it with alacrity, efficiency, and of course, safety, that you will be needing the following:
a) Snowshoes (see below for notes)
b) Warm, layered clothing, including snowpants and gloves or mittens.
c) Insulated, preferably waterproof boots with high ankles
d) Water and food for the trail (a canteen and a couple energy bars, container of trail mix or similar idea should be sufficient)
e) A small pack for your food, water, extra clothing, etc.
f) Sunglasses and sunscreen, hand/footwarmer packs, a protective hat, chapstick, rubber chicken, etc.
g) Camera(s), small first-aid kit, extra socks, gloves, space blanket, flares, a good flashlight, Yeti repellant, and whatever else you think you might need, or desire, as long as it doesn't get in your way or bog you down.
Hopefully, a set or two of FRS radios will be on hand, and perhaps someone at Upper Camp (Bunny Flat) will have stuck around to back us up in case of emergency, or just for the sheer fun of it all.....
If time allows, Tim Burson, myself, and a couple others may attempt to ascend further up the mountain past Horse Camp. This is entirely dependent upon the time, snow conditions, the weather, and of course, how we are feeling at the moment. Should this extension of the expedition occur, it would be up to the remaining Newts as to whether they stay at Horse camp and explore that area, or head back down to Bunny Flat, retracing the rather obvious trail we will have left on the ascent. It is stated by the Sierra Club website that the way to the cabin door will be clear as will be the door to the solar composting toilet. If the weather is decent, the views from a short walk uphill from Horse Camp will blow your mind!
The estimated time to walk from Bunny Flat to Horse Camp is around 45 minutes to an hour, depending. It could well be less, but it should not be much more. Until I get more information, I will stand by this estimate. This section could be revised at any time. The general plan, also, could be revised. If you are not receiving Shasta Trip updates from some quarter on a regular basis, make sure you check back here as the dates approach. For now, suggestions, questions, or flames should be directed to me,
Gene Cornelius at mizamook@stardustweb.net.
Snowshoes! These are really important, although depending on the condition of the snow, you might not absolutely need them. If the snow does not support your weight on a single booted foot, then snowshoes are needed. Slogging uphill through thigh-deep (or worse) snow will really ruin your day. Even sinking a mere foot or so can tire a snow-hiker prematurely. As for style, I recommend buying, renting, or borrowing the type that has the full hinge. This setup eliminates "tail kickback" which is energy robbing and annoying, as it throws the snow you've collected on the trailing deck part of the 'shoe with each step up onto your back. It is work to lift that snow, and work to lift the entire shoe. Also, I feel that it decreases the maneuverability due to the limited range of motion inherent in the "semi-hinged" models. With the full hinge, you can easily step up a steep incline by kicking in with your crampons and stepping up the mountain like a staircase. No implication there, though, our route is mostly of limited slope, and should not be too arduous.
Back to the snowshoes, and choosing thereof: There are three common sizes of snowshoes with associated general weight ratings:
- "8x25" 120-200lbs.
- "9x30" 200-280lbs.
- "10x36"280lbs. and up
If you have not used snowshoes before, don't expect to be floating on top of powder...you will still sink in a bit, but believe me, the difference they make is quite significant! If you have shoes larger than the weight rating for you implies, you might "float" on top more, but you will pay for that luxury by having to deal with more weight as well as decreased maneuverability. Some people have multiple pairs, as different snow conditions and/or types of outings (day hike versus a week-long snow camping excursion, for instance) necessitate further consideration, but I think that we'll all be fine with whatever.
Look for snowshoes with ratcheting buckles on the straps, as these will make your life much easier! If you are using the traditional wood and webbing shoes, make sure that the leather and cordage of the bindings is in good shape: Flexible, oiled, strong, and not rotting. Everybody should familiarize themselves with the binding system and fit of their snowshoes before the trip, as it should take about three minutes to fit the things to your feet if that!
Poles are preferred by some; I do not like them, as I feel they are generally unnecessary, and get in the way, as well as taking up two of the two hands I have other uses for, such as photography.
If buying snowshoes, you can generally expect to pay around $130 for a decent set. There are cheaper, and there are those more dear. Buy according to your budget and the potential usage you think your shoes will get. I would expect that there are several outfitter-type places in Mt. Shasta to rent such things from....if you seek to rent, then I advise using the Internet and/or the telephone to make reservations for your gear. Michele and I will have our own, and maybe an extra set or two.
Snowshoes can be purchased in many places. Try a Google search for snowshoes. Try eBay. Call your local sporting-goods store. Ask your uncle if you can borrow his. Ours came from Cabela's, and we are both happy with our choices. (Michele has the Redfeather V-Tail 8x25" set, and I have the Alaskan Guide 9x30" set.)
Also, if you have not used snowshoes before, and get a chance to, do a test run or three to get an idea of what muscles will be stressed, how well your boots fit, what socks to use, whether the straps cause chafing, and have a general awareness of potential problems before they become real problems. Since snowshoes/crampons really don't like to be used on hard ground or pavement, find a nice green lawn to tear up....golf courses are excellent, as they have little hills and sand traps and things for your experimentation. When you can outrun the groundskeepers while in your snowshoes, you are ready! (This is the same golf course you test-fit and test-run your tire chains on, right? Good!)
Conclusion
By now, you have pretty complete knowledge of what Tim's Idea was all about (and then some). I make no pretension to know every angle or bit of preparedness intrinsic in such a venture, nor do I have control over the people involved, the weather, the day before, the Sasquatch hordes, or the advisability of it all. For myself, I'm aiming for the execution of the plan exactly as stated in this document, but am open to suggestions and changes.
After the triumphant return of the exploratory team (and their documentary crew) to Bunny Flat from the heights, evening will just be falling (after a spectacular sunset), the fire started, the fish cooking, and the revelry just beginning.
Hope to see you there!
Gene Cornelius
www.backroadbus.com
3-Nov-06
