Sierra Adventures

Sierra Adventures–Training

Little Lakes Valley

“Merde! It’s only been five miles. My legs are dog-tired from carrying this backpack.” was the comment I mumbled inaudibly while hiking yesterday to begin the full regiment of training for this year's Sierra adventure.

Lori led the way for my first full backpack training exercise, “We need to get you out more these next few weeks; your trip is less than one month away.”

“Wow, you’re right. How is it that all that work I’ve done, bicycling and hiking, is not enough? This getting older is a bitch!”

We were hiking the Calavera Hills Nature Preserve in Carlsbad. I wanted to climb close to home to try out the new backpack. Granted, the 513-ft. Mount Calavera is not really a mountain at all but rather a 22 million-year-old volcanic plug—a mass of volcanic rock that solidified in its vent and feeding system millions of years ago. It is an excellent training area.

This year, our intrepid team will explore Little Lakes Valley, nestled in the Inyo National Forest near Bishop, CA., our high Sierra adventure. With a starting elevation of 10,200,' we are excited that the trail system is easily accessible to a great cirque of peaks and two major passes into the backcountry that can all be done in a day. An excellent opportunity to find the perfect spot, establish a base camp, photograph a sunset, and catch a few trout for dinner.

I remember preparing for the first trip. The anticipation, confusion, and apprehension, what will we need to pack, how much will we carry? In three days, will I be able to pack the necessary load and keep up? With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Robert said, “No problem, it's easy - you’ll see.”

Now that I have five trips under my belt let me assure you that it is NOT easy. A trip to the high Sierras takes planning, discipline, persistence, and a commitment to training. However, I will say this - it is one of the most rewarding experiences you will have in this lifetime. You will experience nature on a grand scale that no camera can capture; exquisite solitude, exhilarating experiences, magnificent panoramas, and the delight of discovery, yet contrast with the harsh reality of survival.

John Muir said it best, “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”

Those who have yet to have the incredible opportunity to explore the Sierras may enjoy reading about our previous adventures; Sierra Refections - 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, October 2018, Sept. 2022, October 2022, and 2023; just click the link for the year.

Now, if you will, please excuse me. I’m heeding my wife’s timeless words of wisdom.

“You need to get out more; your trip is less than one month away.”

Comments

The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...

Practiced Hands: The 50-Year Warranty

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active. We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update. But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece. The Kick That Changed Everything It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys. "Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up." Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room s...

On the Fly–Taking Flight

In this special 500th episode, On the Fly is moving to a new home. Here’s why—and what’s staying the same. For a very long time (since April 2012), On the Fly has lived on Blogger . Blogger has been a reliable host—dependable, quiet, and never complaining when I arrived late with another half-baked idea, a guitar riff, or a story that needed a little air. It faithfully archived my thoughts, my music, and more than a decade of curiosity. But the internet has changed. It’s louder now. Flashier. More insistent. Every thought is nudged to perform. Every sentence wants to be optimized, monetized, or interrupted by something that really wants your attention right this second. I’ve been craving the opposite. So today, On the Fly is moving to Substack . If you’ve been with me for a while, you know my quiet obsession: the A rt of Seeing . I’m interested in the moments we rush past—the Aversion Trap, the discipline hidden inside a guitarist’s daily practice, t...

Chasing 70

In this episode, Chasing 70: A Respectful Negotiation with Gravity They say golf is a game of misses. If that’s true, my first round of the year at Rancho Carlsbad was a masterclass in missing efficiently . After a four-month hiatus—during which my golf clubs quietly evolved into a self-sustaining garage ecosystem—Lori and I returned to our local par-three proving ground. Rancho Carlsbad is a par-54, just 1,983 yards long. That sounds forgiving until it exposes every weakness you’ve been politely ignoring during the off-season. I finished with a 78. In most contexts, 78 is respectable. On a par-54, it means I spent a fair amount of time “getting my steps in.” But here’s the real motivation: I turn 70 this August. As a core principle of my Great Un-Working Lifestyle, I’m putting it in writing: I want to shoot my age by my birthday. The Bald-Headed Man Course Around here, we have a nickname for Rancho Carlsbad. We call it the Bald-Headed Man Course. First, because there are no woods...

On The Fly

Search This Blog