Real Alpine versus False Alpine.

I have written a few times about the false alpine environments that exist in a few high altitude places here in the southeastern USA. False in that the ecosystems were produced by rampant clear-cutting, and subsequent forest fires followed by erosion-causing rainstorms.

So I just thought I'd show a photo of a true alpine setting from a long backpacking trip I took at very high altitude in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado. The peaks around me here were well over 12,000 feet, and I think the one in the background was well over 13,000 feet. The table lands on which I was hiking is classic alpine meadow.

The second photo is of the slowly healing southern high country (roughly 6200 feet above sea level) in the North Carolina mountains in the Shining Rock Wilderness. It closely resembles the classic, true alpine setting. Eventually the Shining Rock area will once again be forested with red spruce and balsam trees. Until then, it will be similar to the open, high country we call "alpine".

Wilderness.

My favorite places to hike and backpack are in wilderness areas. The main reason for this is that I have found that many wilderness areas give me the best chance to find solitude which is often lacking in many National Parks and National Trails (such as the Appalachian Trail).

Following are some videos that I've made while hiking or backpacking through various wilderness areas (the first, ironically, along the Appalachian Trail).

Lardass, or not Lardass? That is the question...

For most of my life since my teens my weight has fluctuated in a really disturbing manner. I've been as heavy as 240+ pounds, or as light as 173 pounds. Throughout the transitions, the weird thing is that I've always stayed relatively active. Even when I'm really fat I still do a lot of outdoor activities--mainly hiking and backpacking. When I'm as fat as I've been I would still have the energy and stamina to hike up steep mountain slopes.

But when I'm thinner I feel a hell of a lot better than when I'm a lardass. So...why would I even allow myself to become a lardass? Outside of the fact that I love food and I enjoy eating, I couldn't say. Perhaps my metabolism is such that I add pounds more easily than most people do. And when I'm fat I desperately want to get back to a lower weight. But then I realize the work and torture involved (extra exercise and bothersome dieting) and continue along as I was, eating and enjoying the good life.

I discovered over the years that I can lose a lot of weight in quick order when I put my mind to it. But if I backslide even a little, then the calories catch up with me and the lard goes back on and I find myself in the fatty section of the clothing store yet again, and must look with disappointment at the boxes of clothes that I can no longer wear stacked accusingly in the closet.

The past ten or so years have seen me repeating the same crimes of weight gain/ weight loss over and over. I would pack it on, then buckle down and get it off, only to see it return over time. My latest struggle has seen me taking the pounds off again, but this time in a much slower and more controlled manner. Over the past year I've managed to lose thirty-five pounds and get myself back below 200 for the first time since I returned from my backpacking trip to Colorado. I'm feeling pretty good and would like to knock off another ten or fifteen pounds. Will it happen? I'm not sure, but it would be nice to not have to carry that flab up the slopes in Glacier National Park.

We'll see.

The fattest I've ever been (2005). Over 240 pounds. On a backpacking trip in the Black Mountains of North Carolina.

A year later I had dropped over fifty pounds.

In 2012, after two weeks of altitude sickness in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado I was getting toward a normal weight since ballooning to about 220 during the year. By the time I got home I was down to 195.

And within six months here I was back up to almost 230 pounds again!

And now, roughly a year after that I am under 200 pounds once more. The struggle to stay healthy continues.

Pure Awe

The most stunning place I have ever been in my life was the Weminuche Wilderness in Colorado. I'd been to mountains before, of course. I'd hiked the Appalachians from Katahdin in Maine to Wade Mountain in Alabama. I'd hiked in the mountains in southern California and in Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons in Montana and Wyoming.

But for scenery that inspired nothing but awe in me I have to give the highest marks to the San Juan Mountains of Colorado. It's a vast range of very high country (for the lower 48) that is packed with tortured terrain and stunning vistas. I wonder if I'll ever see anything like it again.

Today, I was looking through photos of my trip there. One major drawback for me while I was in that place was the altitude sickness and my back injury. The altitude sickness dogged me for almost the whole time I was there. It took me many days to finally acclimate to the high elevations, and by that time I had to head home. The next time I go to such country, I'll make sure to spend more time getting accustomed to the thin air.

I was generally struck speechless.

The tilted, tortured crust of Mother Earth.

Sometimes I was so ill from altitude sickness that I could barely move. And yet I'd still pause to take in the scenery.

Alpine glacial lakes.

Willow looks nice and beautiful, but it's a horror to negotiate.

What can you say? In the silence all I could do was look and appreciate.

I took this one from the worst campsite we were forced to use.

Waking to the mountains dusted in snow.

Chicago Basin on the way out.

The weather we encountered was all over the range. Snow. Sleet. Hot. Cold. Rain. Sunshine. Thunder.

This was the deepest into wilderness as I have ever been. No matter which way we could have headed from this point, we were at least two days from the nearest road.

High valleys surrounded by towering peaks.

I had never seen mountains such as these.

I think I took this one the day we were stopped by thunderstorms.

Trail heading down from a very high pass (almost 13K feet) toward Chicago Basin.

Colorado Rockies

The trip was not uneventful. Later, after I've had time to digest the experience, I'll write about it in some detail. But for now I will illustrate some of my impressions.

Some people can go from living a few hundred feet above sea level to the high Rockies and feel no negative effects from altitude. I am not one of those people. When I hiked peaks in Yellowstone a few years ago that were well over 10,000 feet in elevation I had not trouble at all. This gave me a false sense of safety. What I found in Colorado was that I hit a kind of wall at around 11,000 feet. Generally around 11,300 feet or so I would feel the classic effects of altitude sickness. I did not get headaches, but I did get severe nausea and shortness of breath. This slowed me down to a crawl and the only reason I did not retreat was due to pure stubbornness.

The rewards to pushing on were great. Amazing views and a sense of accomplishment. The punishments for continuing to crawl higher up the slopes were many and varied. There was the physical sickness, the biting cold, the frequent storms, and even occasional depression. It was only as we ended our trip that I felt that I'd finally acclimated myself to the high elevations at which we were hiking (11,000 to almost 13,000 feet above sea level).

So one thing that I learned is that I will either have to train hard the next time I head into the high country, and/or spend more time acclimating my body to high altitude before tackling difficult walks and climbs.

Heading toward the higher country through the willows.

An abandoned miner's shack at around 12,000 feet above sea level. The nearby rocks were pierced with old mining shafts. I suspect this shed was over 100 years old.

A piece of an old wood-burningstove that probably kept the miners warm once upon a time.

At the pass. What appears to be a road is actually the Continental Divide Trail.

Brilliant aspens in full Fall color lined the trails and slopes as we hiked.

A cow and bull moose visited the beaver pond where we were camped.