So when I became a hiker, it was only natural for me to continue keeping an eye on the ground as I hiked, looking for those tiny landscapes underfoot. Recently, as the snow piles up in the Cascades, I’ve been heading east of Bend into the High Desert. The more time I spend out there – especially in the Oregon Badlands Wilderness – the more I love Oregon’s deserts. At first glance, it seems like all it consists of is Western Junipers, rabbit brush, and volcanic rocks. But, there’s much more to see if you look harder. Not too far from the Badlands is the Horse Ridge Research Natural Area, where scientists have attempted to preserve and study a swath of Oregon desert. They’ve attempted to identify all species of plants and animals found within the area, including 11 medium shrubs, 85 herbs, 17 grasses and sedges, 6 mosses and 19 lichens.

When I looked over the 24-page PDF on the Horse Ridge NRA (here), it was that last factoid that stood out: 19 types of lichens. My current obsession is lichenology, or the study of lichens. If you really get your nose in them, you’ll see strange and wonderful world. A square foot of rock can hold my attention for a while, especially if I have my camera. Recently, I brought my camera into the Badlands and photographed some of these tiny landscapes underfoot. I hope you enjoy. Remember: while you’re enjoying the grand landscapes on a hike, don’t forget to focus on the smaller things. They can be amazing in their own way.

Click on the image to be brought to the gallery.

This is the second of five installments about my artistic journey I like to call, “The Numbers.” (To read Part 1, please click here.)

I’m really happy how this project is turning out. Taking time to make each hike’s number using materials found on the hike has caused me to concentrate more on looking at my surroundings as I hike. I try to select a material that 1) is abundant and 2) won’t affect the ecology or aesthetics of the area. I love nature, but I don’t want to love it to death. If I’m using living flora, I prune the plant and not pick it outright. Here’s a few stories of the behind-the-scenes of numbers 11-20.

Hike #11 – Shevlin Park, Bend, OR - I found a patch of snowberries (Symphoricarpos) early on this hike.  The berries are a food source for land fowl (grouse, quail, pheasants, etc.) but poisonous to humans.  A hiker saw me gathering the berries and was concerned I was going to bring them home and make jelly or something.  I’m not sure he believed me when I told him my intentions.

Hike #14 – Stough Canyon Nature Center Trail – Burbank, CA - I was invited to Southern California for the screening of a documentary I worked on, Mile… Mile & a Half. While there, I took a stroll in the Verdugo Mountains with producer Ric Serena. XXX grew in abundance along the trail, so it seemed the best choice to use. I love it when my hiking friends get involved in making The Number.

Hike #15 - Mishe Mokwa Trail to Sandstone Peak – Malibu, CA - Two friends helped collect and construct Number Fifteen near the summit of Sandstone Peak in the Santa Monica Mountains.  Here we used Redshanks (Adenostoma sparsifolium), a common tree/shrub native to Southern California.  The backdrop of the number is a type of igneous rock found in abundance around Sandstone Peak which, surprisingly, isn’t sandstone.

Hike #16 - East Metolius River Trail -  Sisters, OR - My friend and I used moss that had fallen from the trees to make Number Sixteen. I thought the unique jigsaw puzzle quality of a fallen Ponderosa Pine (Pinus ponderosa) made for a good backdrop, but the needle-covered slope the fallen tree rested made this number difficult to make. I slipped a few times.  In this photo, my friend makes it look so easy.

Hike #18 -Porcupine Snowshoe Loop – Bend, OR - The first snowshoeing outing of the season, my friend and I used green and brown pine needles to make Number Eighteen.  Aesthetically, I dislike this number. I felt rushed in the cold and wet Deschutes National Forest. In hindsight, I could have made it look a lot better.  However, it is what it is.   What I like most about this number is that my good friend helped make it.  When I look at it, I’m reminded of the great time I had on the 4-mile snowshoe trek.  The hike was especially memorable because this was the last hike I went on with my good friend before she moved to Montana.

Hike #19 – The Ale Trail of Bend, OR - This was an unusual hike, but one I had hoped to do on this project.  In Bend, only about eight miles separate a dozen breweries.  Most people drive to each of them, but, if you plan it right, you can visit all of them on foot in a day.  For my birthday, a few friends took up the challenge and we visited thirteen locations, hiking a total of 8.5 miles. Along the way, I gathered bottle caps, coasters, and stickers to make Number Nineteen.

Hike #20 - Flatiron Trail – Oregon Badlands Wilderness - The big TWO-OH!  Early on the hike, I passed a Juniper tree that had green, orange, and yellow needles and immediately imagined this reggae-esque design.

If you would like to own a limited edition print of The First Twenty, check out my Etsy store.

I’m excited to make the next 80 numbers. If you’d like to see behind-the-scenes of the first ten, click here.

Page 01-02- Here’s the first two pages of my journal. Technically, this is the pastedown (left) and the front free-endpaper (right). With all my journals, I like to sketch something on these first pages that represent my trek as a whole. In the past, I’ve drawn a monkey in my Nicaragua journal, a camel for Morocco, and a moose for Nova Scotia. For this book, I decided to paint a representation* of what I had been feeling for the last 10 months, what the Germans would call fernweh. The longing to return to the mountains was a powerful feeling ever since stepping off of the Pacific Crest Trail in October 2011.

The unfinished sketch on the right page is based on a photo I took while hiking through the Sierra last summer: A Prettyface flower (Triteleia ixioides) which is only found in the Sierra. I hope to finish this sketch in the near future.

Page 03-04- I find it hard to get a journal going, so to help inspire myself to write in it, I add sketches/interesting items in the first few pages of the book. I brought my watercolor pencil palette with me on this trek. I experimented on what each color would look like the more I let water sit on the pencil. This color palette (left) came in handy while on the trail for helping me decide on which paint to use and how long to soak water on the paint.

The beer labels are from a bottle of limited edition Sierra Nevada beer which a friend gave me prior to the trek. I like collecting labels on my journeys, but this is one of the few that I’ve added before my hike.

Page 05-06- This spread might look familiar to some of my followers. I originally scanned this page in January soon after painting it. (I blogged about it here) This is a recent scan of the same page, to show you how it fared on my 350-mile hike. I expect my journals to physically represent my journey, showing evidence of toil on such a long backpacking trip into the wilderness. So paint smudges, a deteriorating spine, sweat stains, and dirt smudges on the pages make the journal more honest in telling the story of my journey.

Page 07-08- I consider the pre-trip planning an important aspect of the journey and, as such, should be recorded in the same journal I carry on the trail. Not all journeys work out exactly as planned, so having these notes handy help in finding alternatives to the original route. On the right is a rough mileage map of the trails I plan on taking and the nearby alternatives. On the left are notes on the ecology of the Sierra Nevada.

Page 41-42- Before leaving on the journey, I visited my 96-year old grandmother and told her of my intentions of spending the summer in the mountains of California. She gave me a small figure of Buddha to carry with me. She wanted to give it meaning, so she held the small plastic figurine between her hands, as if in prayer, and said, “Protect him, all the way… but not from adventure.”

Page 47-48- Everything on this page was done on my first day on the trail. Unlike previous treks, I used a mechanical pencil (Staedtler Mars Drafting Technical Mechanical Pencil,0.5mm width) using 3B graphite, which I found best for my needs. Along with the mechanical pencil, I also brought a ballpoint pen (my ink of choice) for warmer days when the ink would flow well.

Page 59-60- On all my hikes, I try to spend time studying the flora and fauna. Almost immediately, I had magical encounters. Within the first week, I saw a bobcat, owl, pine martin, snakes, lizards and a menagerie of insects. Included on these pages are sketches of a tiger beetle and a wasp gall.

Page 67-68- I enjoyed the real estate that a Moleskine Plain Notebook Large, especially when comparing it to the pocket Moleskine I usually carry. I spent a few minutes sketching the footbridge that crosses South Fork Kern River, nicknamed “Swallow Bridge” by hikers for the birds that nest in its underside. When I finally returned home from my journey, I painted the sketch with watercolor, pen & ink.

Page 101-102- Early in my trip, I was still trying to balance out my desire to sketch with my desire to move up the trail. For the first two weeks of the trek, I concentrated more on raising my fitness level, squeezing in time to write and make rough sketches when I could. On this spread, I sketched with pencil on the trail then used watercolor, pen & ink after the trek. I made my own topo map on the trail when entering Kern River Canyon from the east.I liked drawing maps to create a stronger personal connection to the geography of my surroundings.

Page 103-104- Instead of picking and pressing flowers in my journal as I did on trips of the past, I decided to paint them instead. These wildflowers of the Sierra were painted on the trail and once identified, were a useful key for the rest of the trek. I find that sketching flowers for identification requires an eye for detail. By the end of my trek, I was able to identify dozens of flowers thanks to the time I spent studying/sketching them.

Page 111-112- I’m always on the look out for ephemera to slip into my journal when I hike back into civilization to resupply. I hiked into the popular side of Sequoia National Park and stamped my book both at the park’s visitor center (left) as well as at the small US Post Office (right).

Page 119-120- Here’s a sketch of a tent moth cocoo followed by dreaded blank space. Although I have an easy time journaling on the trail, I struggle to push pen to paper while in towns taking “zero” days, or days of rest without hiking. I’ve talked with many hikers about journaling and they admitted that it’s these trips in towns that kill their hiking journal. They don’t take the time to write and, after a handful of life’s experiences slip by the pen, the white pages of the journal become intimidating and they never touch the book again. I solve this by skipping a few pages with the intention to fill them in later but, more importantly, I begin writing again. I cut my losses and begin again. I still hope that I take the time to fill in the gaps now that I’m home. The longer I wait, the more of the details will fade from memory.

Page 147-148- Along with a mechanical pencil, I carried a stub of a wooden pencil so I could do some rubbings in my journal. When I was in Mammoth Lakes, CA I asked a ranger if I could borrow his badge. Surprisingly, he handed it over so I could get a rubbing of it. I wish I had done the same with the National Park Ranger badge – I had many opportunities to ask – but this idea didn’t occur to me until later in my journey.

The other rubbing on this page is of an interesting plastic piece I found on the side of the road while hitchhiking home from Bishop to Bend, Oregon.

Page 239-240- All of my hiking journals begin with a hand-drawn spreadsheet in the rear of the book. It is these pages that I access the most, adding in daily data such as mileage, coordinates and elevation of my camp. I also named each camp, as the explorers of eld once did. I still have a bit of work to do on this page, calculating daily mileage using my GPS data, but this gives me an opportunity to review my trek, an important step in any major journey.

Page 241-242- The last pages of my journal are reserved for those I meet. An autograph page, of sorts. I prefer that the hiker writes their information with their own hand, connecting their journey to mine in a more personal way.

I hope I have given you inspiration to start a journal or ideas to include in your own journal keeping. Feel free to share your feedback below.

*This artwork was based on another work, but I couldn’t find the artist responsible.

We’ve all read scary stories that begin with this opening hook. What usually follows is a scene of a castle perched high on a steep precipice of rock; lightning licking its spires which pierce a brooding sky; the dark clouds scrape over a full moon. Terror seizes those who come near it. Mystery surrounds those who reside within it. But as readers we know that this is the predictable dwelling of the story’s villainous character.

But where in history has this story derived from? Is there a castle somewhere in the world that has been the basis for such a dreadful plot? I asked myself these questions as I backpacked throughout Europe in the Fall of 2001. I had hoped to find the source for such stories and I thought the best place to look would be in the heart of Romania, otherwise known as Transylvania.

Brasov, Romania

My first full day in Transylvania was spent in Brasov on October 31, 2001 – Halloween. It didn’t take long to realize that Romanians will take no part in such nonsense. They are probably sick of tourists coming here and assuming that Halloween derived from Romania’s past. The fact is, Halloween – originally called All Hollow’s Eve – started in the 5th century BC in Celtic Ireland, which, if you look on a map, you’ll notice it’s nowhere near Romania.

Central Romania might not be the original home of Halloween, but it sure does personify a ghost story setting! When dusk settled on Brasov on Halloween, chills raced up and down my spine. Throughout the city, stray dogs could be heard howling at the moon. Bats quietly snatched bugs out of the sky. Smoke from a few unseen chimneys blanketed the windless city. The large bell from the Black Church in the center of town tolled monotonously. Yes, Transylvania is Spooky with a capital “S”!

Castle Poenari from the valley.

The next morning, things seemed to return to normal. The Black Church, although still blackened from a fire in 1689, looked less foreboding in the sunlight. The stray dogs were no longer howling and instead, whimpered for food when I passed by them. I made my way to a bookstore to gather some information on the legendary Dracula.

Once there, I flipped through a large Romanian encyclopedia and found myself looking at a small 5-inch-long entry for “Poienari” (pronounced poy-en-ar-ee). This is the official name for Dracula’s castle. The book says that Romanians know it as Cetatea Lui Negru Voda, or Citadel of the Black Ruler, however most call it Cetatea Poenari, or Poienari Castle.

It was erected around the beginning of the 13th century by the first Romanian rulers in a region of Romania, known as Wallachia. Around the 14th century Poenari was the main citadel of the Basarab rulers. In the next few decades the name and the residents changed a few times but eventually the castle was abandoned and left in ruins.

However, in the 15th century, realizing the potential for a castle perched high on a steep precipice of rock, Vlad Tepes repaired the structure. This ruler is known better to the Western world as Vlad The Impaler, or Dracula.

Poenari, a.k.a Dracula’s castle

Legend has it that Vlad forced the nobles of Tirgoviste, whom he held responsible for the deaths of his father and brother, to trudge fifty miles through mountains and snow to the spot where Poenari Castle lay in ruins. If they survived the brutal journey, they spent the next few months repairing the castle until it was fit for Vlad to live in. And if the nobles survived this feat, which many did not, Vlad did what he was famous for: he impaled them on the spot.

So my quest had found a destination! Wallachia, Romania – located just south of Transylvania. For the next couple weeks, I stayed with Romanian friends and studied as much as I could about the castle. I read about the folklore surrounding the place, and how, in the mid-15th century, Vlad was able to escape into Transylvania with the help of local villagers. Still told by villagers supposedly related to those in their stories, residents of Aref claim that, when the Turks were pursuing Vlad, they helped him escape in the opposite direction. Supposedly, they did this by reversing the horseshoes on Vlad’s steed, thus making it look like the horse was traveling towards the castle and not away.

Dracula’s Castle = the real deal.

Although the castle was used for many years after Vlad’s death in 1510, it eventually was abandoned again in the first half of the 16th century and fell into in ruins yet again in the 17th century. Due to its size and location, the castle was very hard to seize, even by natural forces. However in 1888, a landslide brought down a portion of the castle which crashed into the river far below. Nevertheless, the castle was slightly repaired since, and the walls and its towers still stand today – mainly for tourists to invade.

So on November 18, 2001, armed with a camera and the info I had acquired, my friend Marius and I drove towards the infamous castle. Marius lives south of the castle in the city of Pitesti, so the pleasant drive up the highway was quick. We arrived at the base of the castle at about 9am. (Map to Poenari)

My first reaction to the area surrounding the castle wasn’t what I had expected. Most noticeably, there was a large power plant sharing the same hillside as the castle. The Vidraru Power Plant is said to be one of the biggest in Romania, and if you ask me, it is also the biggest eyesore in Romania. The constantly humming monstrosity sits just 100 yards from the path leading to the castle.

From the ramparts of Castle Poenari.

On the other hand, the castle itself was everything that I had imagined. It really does sit perched high on a steep precipice of rock just as the classic frightening tales describe. And I’m certain that in the right conditions, lightning would lick its spires (which do indeed sort of pierce the sky). Marius and I stood looking up at dwelling of this story’s villainous character. Just one small obstacle stood in the way: the stairs.

Location of Dracula’s Castle.

In order to access the castle, visitors must climb 1,425 stairs. I know there are 1,425 because I carefully counted them myself. The stairs weren’t in good shape – some were broken and at slightly varying heights. Worst yet, they were covered in a morning ice. In fact, everything was covered in frost. The trees looked eerily frozen in place, almost vitrescent.

At the top, the view was breathtaking. Standing there looking out over tens if not hundreds of miles of land, I could see why Vlad wanted to have his castle at this location. He could see his enemy approach hours in advance, allowing time to prepare for battle. Heck, he could probably relax for a bit before preparation, for those 1,425 stairs I gruelingly climbed most likely weren’t there 500 years ago. Attackers would have to scale the steep hillside in order to attack the fortress. And that was if they had the energy to do so after such a climb!

For the next hour or so, Marius and I explored the small ruins. I joked around a few times by climbing on the rebuilt tower, torturing Marius and his fear of heights. But the possibility of a long, hard fall is no laughing matter. To fall off this castle means a 50-foot free fall followed by a 1,800-foot bone-breaking tumble down to the river below.

From atop the castle.

Poenari Castle could possibly be the source of the stereotypically frightening fortress portrayed over and over again in books and movies. Although a large collection of scary castles resides in countries like England and Germany, Poenari has an ambiguous radiation of wickedness. It was here where nobles of Tirgoviste were murdered by one of the more macabre deaths in history, impalement. It was here where countless Turks died trying to seize the strong hold. And it was here where one of the most infamous – and sometimes villainous – characters resided: Dracula.

This article was first published on my travel website, kahunna.net in 2002.

Along with my big hiking goal, I’ve got a few artistic goals as well. One of them is to create the hike’s number using material found on the hike. I got this idea while hiking the Pacific Crest Trail in 2011. When big milestones are reached, like mile 100, 500, 1000, etc, it is common for a hiker to write the mileage in the trail using rocks, sticks, flowers, etc. One thru hiker I met made a mile marker every 100 miles for her entire 2,655-mile trek. As well as using the common stone, stick, or pine cone to make her century numbers, she also used flowers, snowballs, lichen, burnt logs, deer bones, fruit, even other hikers laid out to form the numbers. For my own art project, something I simply call “The Numbers,” I’ll be sticking to a few rules:

1. The Number must be made on the hike it is representing. (i.e. “33″ must be made on hike #33.)
2. The Numbers must all be the same size – about 5-6 inches in height.
3. The Number must be made using materials found on the hike.
4. The Numbers will be made without killing. If living fauna is used, the plant will be pruned so it can continue living and reproducing.
5. The Number will be left as is for nature to reclaim. I simply walk away once it is created and photographed.

I’m writing this after bagging my first ten hikes and this project has turned out to be much more fun and educational than expected. Looking for things to use in The Number gets me to pay attention to my surroundings, to see things that I might’ve missed otherwise. The item(s) used are never decided upon prior to the hike, but I do have an idea of what I want. When I finally pick out something to use, I become more curious. I want to learn more about the thing. For instance, for hike #10, I chose a reddish-orange berry that I found growing near Paulina Creek. I didn’t think much of the berry before, but now I was curious. What plant is this? Are these berries edible? Where does this plant normally grow? After ten hikes, I’ve learned quite a bit more about the plants, trees, and geology of the area having used flower petals, tree branches, coniferous needles, and rocks to form The Numbers. I imagine by the 100th hike, I’ll know quite a bit more about nature than I do now, and that excites me.

On some hikes, I’ve made more than one number after finding something more interesting to use later on the hike. Below is the first number for Hike #2, but later on I went with something that I thought better represented the hike (see below).

The trail up the North Fork Tumalo Creek on Hike#6 has a lot of downed trees, making it easy to collect very specific twigs to make Number 6.

Building Number 8 was one of the most difficult to make thus far. It was the first to be made on a grade and on a very uneven surface. Trying to balance small pumice stones is like a game of Jenga and Tetris combined.

I spent a few minutes on the shores of Paulina Lake gathering small polished obsidian pebbles to make Number 9. Here’s a close-up showing a small green bug along for the ride.

The accidental inclusion of the green aphid in Number 9 gave me an idea for Number 10. While making this on Hike#10, I saw a darkling beetle nearby and decided to include him in the photography of this piece created using rose hips.

I invite my hiking partners to help out in gathering the materials once I’ve figured out what I’m going to use. I usually look for something that’s prevalent on the trail or represents the hike. No sense trying to gather something that’s hard to find or unusual. Not only would it be more time consuming to collect but I’d hate to use something that would obviously make the experience for the next hiker less enjoyable. On hike#5, Caitlin and I made sure not to pick more than a few petals off of each yellow flower needed to make this along Six Lakes Trail. She’s adding the final touches here: pearly everlasting.

Kim and I found a nice shady western juniper to make The Number on hike#7 from the yellow flowers of the local rabbitbrush. We highlighted it with blue juniper berries.

Emily and I had to dig deep to find the patience to build #10. Put one round rose hip in place and three others rolled out of place. Patience prevailed and we had something we both were proud of. Then we walked away, leaving the number in place, never to see it again. That’s how I roll.

And here’s all ten of The Numbers! I look forward to the next 90!

To follow my progress on this project, head on over to my other website: 100hikes.com!

And there you have it:

“I, Kolby Kirk, resolve to hike 100 times and 700 trail miles by 2014.”

So why am I posting my 2013 goal now, here in August 2012? Because I’m getting an early start on it! I feel that if I’m going to be able to be successful at this, I’ll need to start right now. I’m in a much different place in my life than I was in 2009 and 2010, both personally and geographically. Secondly, I was based in Southern California and able to hike in relatively mild weather year round for previous hiking goals. Now I’m living in Central Oregon where snow can cover trails for half the year. Finally, I plan on hiking 100 times AND 700 miles, so the hikes must be an average of 7 miles in length. To compare, hikes in 2009 and 2010 averaged 4.2 miles and 5.6 miles in length, respectively. Believe me, when looking at all of the variables, I’m going to have to try very hard in order to complete this goal. In fact, I have my doubts. Accomplishing this goal seems to be just beyond my capabilities… which is exactly how I like it.

I’ll be posting updates here at TheHikeGuy.com, but I’ve also created a website specifically for this project. Those who have been following me since 2009 might recognize the domain name. 2013.100hikes.com. I’ve already completed my first hike (here’s the report). You can also follow my progress on Facebook. I hope you stick around. It’s going to be an exciting 17 months!

My life has been pretty hectic for the last few weeks leading up to this trip. So much had to be lined up for me to place my civilian life on hold before reconnecting with a life among trees and mountains.

For the next two months or so, I’ll be enjoying the company of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I will be hiking over 450 miles on a few trails, but that is only explaining the journey’s route and not its intention.

It seems today that exploration has been replaced with speed and where long hikes are measured by how quickly they are completed. I’ve never understood that mindset. I’m going into the mountains to experience them. To “hear the trees speak for themselves,” as John Muir wrote. One of my goals I set as we entered 2012 is to spend at least 50 days in the Sierra this summer and I plan on doing just that.

I once used to say that I wasn’t sure if I was a naturalist who liked to hike or a hiker who liked nature. Well, for this journey, I am to be a naturalist.

Dani, Fish and I will be on the trail tomorrow evening, beginning our acclimation to the rough lifestyle of testing ourselves against the hard granite. I imagine each of us will be grinning ear to ear.

Billy Goating
noun
The act of hiking a long trail, such as the Pacific Crest Trail or the Appalachian Trail, simply for the enjoyment of being outdoors. The desire to enjoy the trail outweighs the motive of thru hiking. This definition fits between thru hiking, which is the act of hiking an entire trail from end to end, and section hiking, which is the act of hiking a defined section of a long trail. Billy goaters might start as thru hikers, but as their journey progresses, their intentions change from the act of getting somewhere to the act of enjoying where they are.

Examples:
“I’m going to billy goat the Sierra Nevada Mountains this summer. I have a general itinerary, but really hope to find some new areas to explore.”
“I’m currently billy goating through Maine’s 100-Mile Wilderness, hiking a few trails in the area.”

This definition is named in honor of George “Billy Goat” Woodard, who has hiked more than 36,000 miles (and counting). As the Los Angeles Times put so nicely, the trail is his destination. He spends a good part of the year out on the trail, enjoying the act of being out on the trail, and not with any major concern about his destination. Without knowing its namesake, the term can also relate to those young animals that feel at home on hills and mountain tops.

So if you find yourself on a long hike and realize that you’re probably not going to cover the entire length of the trail you’re on, yet you still want to hike as long as possible, then congrats: you’re now billy goating.

My PCT Appendix

I’m still adding information to my fifth and final PCT journal, which I first blogged about here. Truthfully, I think I’ll be adding to this journal for a good amount of time still to come.  I’ve got information in my head that I just have to get down on paper before the memories fade to oblivion:  Campsites, packing lists, songs I heard, trail conditions, favorite foods… the sort of info I look forward to reading when I’m much, much older is sitting in my head, waiting to be added to the “appendix.”

This page below is from the section on my campsites of the PCT.  The watercolor, pen & ink sketch is of a campsite I named “Camp Sneaky Deer,” a small meadow in Kerrick Canyon (Yosemite NP).  I named it after a deer tried to sneak up on me while I slept to lick the salt off of my hanging clothes.

I was curious on how much of the PCT I actually skipped. The answer surprised me!  Half of a mile here, ten miles there, and before I knew it, I had detoured nearly 150 PCT miles!  However, for the most part, I stuck to a personal guideline: if the detour is equal to or greater than the PCT section I’m straying from, I’m OK with that.  I hiked about 220 non-PCT miles on my journey.

I finalized all of the data I collected on my trek.  The red represents adjusted mileage that I miscalculated while on the trail (Usually only a few tenths of a mile off.)  Have you ever thought it was a Friday when it was actually a Thursday?  Yeah, I did this for NINE DAYS.  The section in yellow is the time I spent not realizing I was a day behind.

“100 Hikes 2012″ Journal

In November, I was hoping to get an early start on my resolutions for 2012.  I was planning on upgrading my 2009 goals and hiking 100 times & 700 miles in 2012.  But life takes unexpected turns and after a family health emergency, I changed plans. I’m beginning to think that my journals are like jazz music: open to experimentation and inspiration. I suppose that’s why I don’t have “rules” for my journals but rather just “guidelines.” I don’t want to limit myself in how I capture my journeys. Experimentation in journal keeping has lead me to new ways of keeping them.    In this hiking journal for the new year, I put down my standard black ballpoint pen and started using a Pigma Micron ink pen.  I also began experimenting with color while on the trail. On the page below, I used watercolor pencils and Pigma Micron pens to make the pages a little more interesting for me to create.

I learned quickly that it is difficult to write with Pigma Micron pens while on the trail, so I switched to mechanical pencil.  On this hike, I wrote and sketched using 2H grade graphite. For the image on the right page, I sketched it in pencil, then used my Watercolor Pencil Palette and Pigma Micron pens to add detail. I also incorporated white gouache paint, another first for me.

I went back to using my trusted Papermate black ballpoint pen for a camping trip in February.

A pencil I brought along came in handy when I saw a summit marker on Mt. Diablo. I took a rubbing of the marker for my journal.

I used my 2012 Hikes journal to start hashing out my goals for the year. Among the goals, and now well documented on my blog, is my upcoming Sierra Trek 2012. The page below shows some preliminary route ideas and possible resupply locations. I also began using a heavier graphite in my pencil. The 3B grade works a lot better for me than the 2H. Even though it smudges easily, it’s darker markings are easier to see on the cream-colored pages.

I’ve always had an obsession with maps, but only recently have I begun to really enjoy making my own. Here’s one I made during a hike along the Deschutes River here in Bend, Oregon.

“Sierra Trek 2012″ Journal

For the first time, my main hiking journal is a large Moleskine rather than the pocket-sized version. Lucky for me, I’m a big guy and the large book still fits nicely in my breast pocket. I just started using this journal, mainly adding information I think I’ll need on my long hike. Instead of photocopying a ton of nature field guides, I decided to sketch some of the info in the journal, making it easier to reference on the trail.

This page below is a start of the common butterflies found in the Sierra, painted using my color pencil palette. I’m not done with the page but I wanted to scan it to show you the rippling of the pages, a common effect caused by painting in the Moleskine Plain Notebooks (both large and small). My style of painting uses very little water, making it possible to use watercolors in this type of journal without it bleeding through the page, but the rippling of the page still occurs. Thankfully, after a few days of drying, the ripples will go away. (As you can see in the other watercolor pages in this post). I’ll finish this page soon and rescan it, showing you how the ripples had faded away over time.