Anyone who has hiked the Appalachian region would find it hard to imagine forests of pine trees...just pine trees. Acre after acre of pine trees is what you find in central Louisiana. In my 11 years as a Combat Military Policeman in the Army National Guard, there's one thing I do not miss; the red clay dirt and pine forests of Fort Polk.
This past weekend, I set out on my shakedown hike amid plenty of reminders of my service at Fort Polk. This trip was designed as a simple test of my equipment selections and a test of my body under the weight of a 65-pound pack.
 The trip started Friday afternoon. We left Lafayette for the Forest Hill public recreation area about 15 miles South of Alexandria. It's an area popular among 4-wheelers and motor cross bikers. It's not exactly the equivalent, if you're looking for a surrogate to the Appalachian Trail, but certainly provided enough of the elements to satisfy the requirements of a shakedown hike.
We arrived at our campsite at about 4:00 PM. I followed my brother-in-law, James, to the site, a regular weekend hang-out for his family, including three young boys, a daughter and my sister. The girls stayed home this weekend, so it was boy's weekend out. Still, I felt a little out of place, sans-four-wheeler and tent-bound. James towed a giant RV to the site and within a few minutes it was home-away from home for the James Gang. Just about anything you'd imaging, including a mac-daddy gas grill and fold-out picnic table.
For me it was certainly a different experience. I carried everything I'd need in a 65-pound back-pack, including equipment, clothing and food. For me, everything was a bit alien. For James, like a seasoned veteran RV-er, he could do it all in the dark.
Phase 1 – Tent Set-up
A bit tentative, I lugged the backpack out, and scratched my head for a few seconds while I tried to recall the location of my tent in my pack. It was getting dark and I wanted to get the tent up while there was still light. To my surprise, it was quick and easy. With only two sets of poles the tent went up without a hitch. Once the tent was in place, I unfolded the rain fly and tried to figure out how it fit over the tent. It was touch and go until I figured out the corners were color coded with the clips on the four corners of the tent. The fly snapped on quickly and Phase 1 – Lodging was complete.
Phase 2 – Stove Test
There was still sunlight as I initiated Phase 2 – Stove Test. However, James recruited me for firewood duty, and it was an hour later until Phase 2 got fully underway. By this time it was about 6:00 and it was getting dark. Setup and operation of my stove worried me more than any other single piece of equipment. It was a multi-fuel stove, meaning it can burn anything from gas to diesel fuel. Even though it was dark, I was prepared. A tip I discovered in my reading was the use of a head lamp, a clever light assembly that fit over your head, with LED bulbs on the front and the battery compartment on the back. It was bright, and provided a nice white-blue light, leaving my hands free to fumble with the directions to the stove. Aside from the fact I forgot to bring matches or a lighter, the stove was easy to figure out. Within a few minutes of setting aside the directions, it was working well. I'd wait until the morning to test it on food. The technology amazed me, especially coming from an Army training background. Everything was light years ahead of Army issue circa 1984.
This by the way was exactly why you do a shakedown hike…so you don't look like a greenhorn, or bear-bait, on the Appalachian Trail, sitting in a hunch reading the instructions in the dark.
Phase 3 – Sleep
Now, it was time for Phase 3 – Sleep. I discovered the self-inflating sleeping pad, doesn't self-inflate, at least on the first use. With a little bit of blowing into the shut-off valve it was ready. Then out with the sleeping bag and other sleeping accessories. This was the most disappointing aspect of the shakedown. The pad didn't provide much comfort, at least in my own measure. The sleeping bag was comfortable, but not too roomy, and there was great difficulty in sealing it up.
At least Friday night, with all the generators churning and four-wheelers winding into the early morning hours, ear plugs are an asset. I've read stories of chatty hikers and loud snorers, where ear plugs were a lifesaver. So, I employed my ear plugs, with moderate relief. Finally, I applied my pillow, which was my cold weather shell folded into one of its pockets. It folded in so tightly that it was softer than a rock, but nothing else.
I concluded there's more work to do in the sleep category, as two lessons I've learned that will be critical in the first 30 days; diet and rest are essential to mental and physical vitality. Unfortunately, there was no rest Friday night. I'll make some improvements here.
 Phase 4 - Cooking
At about 7:00 Saturday morning, someone felt it was late enough in the day to start firing a pistol or rifle. A few minutes later a couple of bikers started warming up their four wheelers, so I figured it was futile to try and sleep any longer. I mean 8 hours of trying to sleep had been enough.
As I awoke, I was reminded of the humid mornings at Fort Polk, where anything open to the air was covered with moisture. The inside of the tent was covered in a thin layer of condensation, including the floor. Good thing I had a waterproof sleeping bag!
At this point, I was not very optimistic about cooking breakfast and fixing coffee. Even with a good night's sleep, it's rumored I can be a grouch in the morning. I was expecting a disaster for breakfast.
I was wrong. My stove lit and heated up quickly. My coffee press was soon filled with boiling water and the coffee I measured out was perfect. What a nice cup of coffee I had, and all seemed to improve. My pancakes cooked up nicely and dishwashing was painless. Cleanup was quick an easy, proving the worth of my cook set, my spork and fold-up spatula.
I stowed my cooking gear, broke down my tent and folded up my sleeping gear within a few minutes and then packed it all into my pack. It was time to get onto the trail and test the legs.
Phase 5 – Hike!
I was planning to hike about 2 hours, however far that would take me. The pack was heavy and awkward to get up on my back. But, once in place I thought to myself how manageable this would be.
About a quarter mile along the trail, I realized I'd forgotten to put on my heart rate monitor. I will be tracking my heart rate along the trail, so it was important to include the watch and heart rate monitor as part of my shakedown hike. Still, my legs and hips objecting, I debated whether to return to camp for the monitor, or just keep going. I decided to go back. My watch includes a series of features that track various data, including heart rate and altitude. It would be interesting to have this data across the entirety of the Appalachian Trail.
I hiked what I thought was about 2 miles. However, after a bit of analysis of my GPS it appeared to be closer to 4 miles. Without maps of the area, I could not be certain of the distance. What was certain…I had an awakening. After the first quarter mile, I began to understand what type of rigor I'd be enduring each day. While I felt it was within my capacity, I now knew it would be more challenging to accomplish 15-20 miles a day than I'd ever expected. On the other hand, it was good to know that I could manage this weight, and if needed I could work my way down in the first few weeks, as non-essential items could be discarded.
At about an hour, I turned around and backtracked on my trail. The walking staff Kelli Guidry (also known as the Chainsaw Guy http://www.chainsawguy.com/) had made for me proved to be so much more than just an impressive hiking artifact. Its weight had concerned me initially, made of cedar and measuring about 6 feet high. This thing is a magnificent work of art, inspired by the Legend of Bizzy Bear. Kelli is a very successful artist who creates sculptured works carved in cedar, starting with a chain-saw, and this piece was inspiring. (I'll include pictures of it on the site, as words cannot fairly depict such a piece.)
From afar, the headpiece of the staff appears to be a bear. Yet, when observed at arm's length, it appears to be a natural and abstract shape, apparently without form. The magic of this piece is also beyond explanation. It is a work of art, a weapon and a functional walking instrument. I carried it mostly in my right hand, horizontal to the ground. Since the terrain was only moderately sloped, there wasn't much need for its assistance as a lever. On the other hand, I soon realized that I was using it in the horizontal position on inclines, pumping it forward, leveraging momentum up hills. Wow. What a surprise. The weight of the headpiece provided great balance to the entire staff, but also worked well to generate uphill momentum, a useful and unexpected aid.
More than a walking instrument, its character has a certain charm and persona that felt as much a companion as anything. This is certainly an odd reflection, I know. But I did push myself hard along this hike, and the mind does strange things under the rigors extraordinary! And these certainly are the things I look forward to most on the AT. |
