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deirdreWell.
It was a long day. It was a very long day.
Snapped some flower photos Saturday morning. Some even turned out. Fewer than I'd like. Note to self: when using manual focus lenses, maybe you need to check your eyeglass prescription first. Doh.
We ate lunch, dropped off packages at the post office (where I think I may have met the least smart person in the entire postal service, but the packages got mailed).
Rick donated blood, wanted to know if I wanted to go walking on the Sawyer Camp Trail. I'd always wanted to get to the Jepson Laurel, but had never managed it. So I said sure, since I was feeling better and I had been thinking to go back.
So we set out.
We'd planned enough to bring sunscreen, but not bug repellant.
Water, but not enough.
We didn't bring any windbreakers.
I had a cashmere shawl in the car and chose not to bring it.
I had some other analgesics with me, but I'd forgotten to pack more ibuprofen, which has a life of four hours, and I'd be needing it.
These were all mistakes.
Instead of the mile-and-a-half-ish Rick thought the Jepson Laurel was from the car, it was two-and-a-half. For a person in good shape, the difference between three miles round trip and five may not be super significant.
But this is me we're talking about.
It took us almost two hours to reach the laurel tree (photography, rest stops, looking around at things), at which point I was so tired I could scarcely enjoy the victory. I was almost certain I couldn't make it back. It was now getting to be almost six o' clock, it was breezy, and it was colder than I'd like. I knew it would drop to colder than was safe.
I called the ranger's number to ask for help, leaving a number on the machine. No call.
After half an hour, I'd had enough of being tired and I was getting hungry. I didn't have a lot of water left. It was only going to get colder, and I was only going to get hungrier and thirstier. One of the advantages, such as it is, being my particular form of out of shape is that walking will cause me to overheat, and the way back was mostly uphill.
So we set out, and I called back the ranger's number and left a message that we were walking, and that I'd update if we needed something else. I realized I could always call someone else, like the sheriff. I didn't feel it was that urgent.
I spent the time thinking about the recent death of Sally Menke, Quentin Tarantino's film editor, who died hiking in Griffith Park the other day. (Likely hyperthermia.) She edited all Tarantino's films and was nominated for two Oscars. I wonder what he's going to do now. The temperature range at which a human can survive unprotected overnight is smaller than you'd like to believe.
By this time, I'm well and truly cursing myself for my lack of stupidity. I'm not an average person as far as wilderness knowledge goes. My father helped develop and/or revise many, if not most, of the Angeles Chapter of the Sierra Club's leadership training materials. In many cases, I was the person who did all the edits. I've read it all over and over and over.
While I don't have the order of magnitude of wilderness survival (or failure to survive, in the case of some of his friends) experience my father has, it grated on me all the more for making bonehead errors where I should have known better.
I know what the ten essentials are. In fairness to myself, I had four: map/compass (iPhone), flashlight (Rick and I had three between us), and sunscreen. I had water, but not enough for an extended stay. (Granted, there was a huge body of fresh water nearby, albeit off limits.)
Plus, we were on a paved trail that was uncomplicated, not in the middle of the wilderness. Impossible to get lost, really. Despite some people's commentary about AT&T, I never lost coverage (we were within hearing distance of an interstate, though).
So, the walk back. It was getting dark, but thanks to light pollution, never unsafely so. It was cold, but once we were moving, not unsafely so. I rationed the water out for the time back, drinking the last at the half mile marker. We managed. It was good to know that at the end of the trail, there was water, and the car would be able to be warmed if we needed it.
We got back to the car 3-1/4 hours after leaving the laurel tree. I was so exhausted. By that time, the ibuprofen had completely worn off, and I had nothing else I could take (having already taken some tylenol and naproxen sodium I had with me). I called the ranger's office again to let them know we'd made it out. Fortunately, I had a bottle of ibuprofen in the car. That was wonderful!
We went out to El Grullense for some Mexican food; it was almost 10 p.m. by the time we got there, and they're open late.
Enough about me. You want to see pictures, right? Here they are.
It was a long day. It was a very long day.
Snapped some flower photos Saturday morning. Some even turned out. Fewer than I'd like. Note to self: when using manual focus lenses, maybe you need to check your eyeglass prescription first. Doh.
We ate lunch, dropped off packages at the post office (where I think I may have met the least smart person in the entire postal service, but the packages got mailed).
Rick donated blood, wanted to know if I wanted to go walking on the Sawyer Camp Trail. I'd always wanted to get to the Jepson Laurel, but had never managed it. So I said sure, since I was feeling better and I had been thinking to go back.
So we set out.
We'd planned enough to bring sunscreen, but not bug repellant.
Water, but not enough.
We didn't bring any windbreakers.
I had a cashmere shawl in the car and chose not to bring it.
I had some other analgesics with me, but I'd forgotten to pack more ibuprofen, which has a life of four hours, and I'd be needing it.
These were all mistakes.
Instead of the mile-and-a-half-ish Rick thought the Jepson Laurel was from the car, it was two-and-a-half. For a person in good shape, the difference between three miles round trip and five may not be super significant.
But this is me we're talking about.
It took us almost two hours to reach the laurel tree (photography, rest stops, looking around at things), at which point I was so tired I could scarcely enjoy the victory. I was almost certain I couldn't make it back. It was now getting to be almost six o' clock, it was breezy, and it was colder than I'd like. I knew it would drop to colder than was safe.
I called the ranger's number to ask for help, leaving a number on the machine. No call.
After half an hour, I'd had enough of being tired and I was getting hungry. I didn't have a lot of water left. It was only going to get colder, and I was only going to get hungrier and thirstier. One of the advantages, such as it is, being my particular form of out of shape is that walking will cause me to overheat, and the way back was mostly uphill.
So we set out, and I called back the ranger's number and left a message that we were walking, and that I'd update if we needed something else. I realized I could always call someone else, like the sheriff. I didn't feel it was that urgent.
I spent the time thinking about the recent death of Sally Menke, Quentin Tarantino's film editor, who died hiking in Griffith Park the other day. (Likely hyperthermia.) She edited all Tarantino's films and was nominated for two Oscars. I wonder what he's going to do now. The temperature range at which a human can survive unprotected overnight is smaller than you'd like to believe.
By this time, I'm well and truly cursing myself for my lack of stupidity. I'm not an average person as far as wilderness knowledge goes. My father helped develop and/or revise many, if not most, of the Angeles Chapter of the Sierra Club's leadership training materials. In many cases, I was the person who did all the edits. I've read it all over and over and over.
While I don't have the order of magnitude of wilderness survival (or failure to survive, in the case of some of his friends) experience my father has, it grated on me all the more for making bonehead errors where I should have known better.
I know what the ten essentials are. In fairness to myself, I had four: map/compass (iPhone), flashlight (Rick and I had three between us), and sunscreen. I had water, but not enough for an extended stay. (Granted, there was a huge body of fresh water nearby, albeit off limits.)
Plus, we were on a paved trail that was uncomplicated, not in the middle of the wilderness. Impossible to get lost, really. Despite some people's commentary about AT&T, I never lost coverage (we were within hearing distance of an interstate, though).
So, the walk back. It was getting dark, but thanks to light pollution, never unsafely so. It was cold, but once we were moving, not unsafely so. I rationed the water out for the time back, drinking the last at the half mile marker. We managed. It was good to know that at the end of the trail, there was water, and the car would be able to be warmed if we needed it.
We got back to the car 3-1/4 hours after leaving the laurel tree. I was so exhausted. By that time, the ibuprofen had completely worn off, and I had nothing else I could take (having already taken some tylenol and naproxen sodium I had with me). I called the ranger's office again to let them know we'd made it out. Fortunately, I had a bottle of ibuprofen in the car. That was wonderful!
We went out to El Grullense for some Mexican food; it was almost 10 p.m. by the time we got there, and they're open late.
Enough about me. You want to see pictures, right? Here they are.