A Diet That Works

One of my resolutions for 2018 is — this won’t surprise anyone who sees me from time to time — lose weight.   I’ve gained some, OK, a lot, since I finished hiking the Appalachian in July 2015.

That’s one of the things I liked best about hiking every day, month after month.  You could eat as much as you wanted of anything you wanted and still not gain weight.  In fact, you lost weight.

After those first few weeks, hiking out of Georgia into the North Carolina mountains, I was always hungry. We all were. Thru-hikers burn up to 6,000 calories a day, according to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. We couldn’t carry enough food to replace that many calories but brother, sister, we tried to make up for it when we got somewhere where we could eat.

Here are a couple examples of what I’m talking about:

Near Wallingford, VT, the Hiking Vikings, Bruin, and I walked an extra mile to have breakfast at Qu’s Whistle Stop.  It wasn’t an eat-all-you can place but it was hiker friendly — they served generous portions. I ate two eggs; sausage; hash browns; toast and jelly; two pancakes with maple syrup; orange juice; and plenty of coffee.

Breakfast desert
Breakfast dessert

And a banana split.

Two weeks later, I arrived at an eat-all-you-can restaurant right beside on the trail, at Pinkham Notch in New Hampshire.  And I ate all I could: two scrambled eggs, two servings of hash browns, a blueberry muffin, a sausage patty, 10 pieces of bacon, two glasses of orange juice, two glasses of apple juice, a bowl of fruit, and three cups of coffee. Oh, and four pancakes.

Even so, when I arrived in Monson, ME, the last town before Mt. Katahdin and the end of the hike, I was down 32 pounds, to an even 170.  I hadn’t had much to eat for several days, trying to make it to Monson without getting off the trail to resupply, and delaying the end of my hike.

On July 7th, the day I hiked into Monson, I was down to one piece of hard candy. I got up at 4 a.m. that day, packed, and was on the move at 4:50 a.m. I arrived at Maine 15, the Monson trailhead, at 1:30 p.m., after hiking 17.9 miles. Beside the piece of hard candy, which I had eaten for breakfast, I had traded a SoBo –a south bound thru-hiker — a dozen water purification pills for the three small packs of nuts.

That’s how you lose weight.

April 10, 2015, less than two months into the hike, "36" pants are too big.
April 10, 2015, less than two months into the hike, size 36-pants are too big.

When I started the hike, on Feb. 15, 2015, my belly hung over the top of my size 38-inch waist pants. After four weeks I switched to a pair of size 36s. Later I moved down to size 34s and by the time I finished the hike they were too big.

So how much weight — fat — have I gained?

I’m not going to say yet.  Let’s just say I need to go on a long, long hike.

Coming Monday: Be Good Or Else

 

The Hike Of A Lifetime Lottery

I don’t know how much more rejection I can take. Every day for a month the National Park Service has sent me the following email, addressed to William Stith: “We regret to inform you that your application was not selected in today’s wilderness permit lottery.”

Late this summer three backpacking friends –Viking, Iceman and Nine! – and I want to hike the 211-mile John Muir Trail, from Yosemite Valley, through the Sierra Nevada mountains, to Mount Whitney in California, the tallest peak in the lower 48 states.

The problem: a lot of other people also want to hike the JMT, and, like they say, space is limited. You don’t have to win the lottery but you need to win the lottery, which I’ll come to in a minute.

This would be a once-in-a-lifetime kind of hike, beautiful beyond words. Here’s how one JMT veteran described it:

The John Muir Trail
The John Muir Trail

“The John Muir Trail covers some of the most beautiful mountains in the world, from stunning, glacier-chiseled Yosemite, to the jagged spires of the Minarets, to the highest mountain peak in the contiguous United States. You’ll hike over numerous high mountain passes, pass ancient glaciers, cross fast-moving mountain streams while surrounded by giant peaks.”

To see more photos, go here.

And it would fun hiking with the guys I hope to go with, all of whom know what they’re doing. Viking has thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, 2,189 miles; Iceman has sectioned hiked all of the A.T.; and Nine! has backpacked into the Grand Canyon six times, including two trips down the infamous [as far as I’m concerned] Nankoweap Trail.

The JMT presents one challenge, altitude, that you don’t face on the A.T. and another, resupply problems, you seldom encounter.

The risk of altitude sickness

The altitude ranges from 4,035 feet in Yosemite Valley on the north end to 14,505 feet at Mount Whitney in the south. The first 100 miles is mostly above 9,000 feet and the rest is mostly above 10,000 feet.

By comparison, the highest mountain on the Appalachian Trial, which I hiked end to end in 2015, is 6,643 feet, at Clingmans Dome in North Carolina. Big difference. I’ve also hiked some in the Grand Canyon, the North Kaibab Trail which starts at 8,241 feet and the Nankoweap Trail, which starts at 7,640, but both descend quickly.

Limited Resupply

No roads cross the JMT, although there are nearby resupply opportunities on the first half of the trail. I’ve never carried more than a six-day supply of food, 1.5 pounds per day on section hike of, say, 100 miles or less; 2 pounds a day on the thru-hike. So I’ll have to resupply twice.

OK, so what’s the rejection all about?

Well, to hike the JMT you must have a permit. And your chances of scoring one in the lottery are, in a word, small – two or three percent, or so they say.

Yosemite restricts traffic on the trail to protect it. The daily quota is 45 hikers, and 10 of those permits go to walk-ups.

Here’s the way it works: You submit an application and you’re in the lottery for 21 consecutive days.  If your name is not drawn, you submit another application, for another 21 days.

I don’t know what I’ll do if I — if we — win.  Jump up and down, I guess.  I’ll let you know if and when that happens.

Coming Monday: The Rabbit Doctor