The short version: A dangle cord is an extra piece of line that you leave hanging down from a food bag that you hung in the trees, allowing you to pull the bag down again if friction prevents it from obediently descending on its own.
The long version: Have you ever hung your food in a bag, with the food bag hanging from one end of the line, with the rest of the line looped over a tree branch, then tied to something sturdy down below?
And then the next morning when you wanted your food back, you untied that bottom end, gave it some slack, and then your food bag just kept hanging there? Way up above your head? Refuseing to decend into your waiting arms? So then what?
Well, if you've ever spent two hours trying to get your food back out of a tree, and have almost decided to give up and go hungry for the final three days of your backpacking trip, then next time you hang up your food you might want to tie another piece of line onto the bottom of the food bag, or leave a loose end of that main supporting line hanging, so you can reach it. Either way works.
So that lets you give a tug to that second piece of line if you need to. To get the food bag started on its descent toward your waiting arms. Got that?
In other words, if the food bag don't move on its own, just give a tug straight down and pull your damn food out of the damn tree already, 'K?
Who cares if it suddenly decides to let go and fall, bonking you on the noggin? Better to get a brief head butt than to starve, is what I say. Are we all on board with this?
Try it. You'll like it.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Always learning, usually the hard way.
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Original image stolen from USDA Forest Service, then edited.
(1) A level area created by cutting into a slope and adding a retaining wall.
Since the soil exposed by this is already compacted, the level area created is generally more stable than if it was created by laying in fill.
A cut slope is a manufactured form of the stream version, which is a cut bank, but a bank is usually all-natural (no sweaty work needed).
(2) This is a hillside hack, created by placing a trail inside the landscape by removing some of what was there originally. Do that and you get something like this, a cut slope. Produced by cutting, eh?
The point is to make a firm, level surface to walk on, which a slope doesn't have, and which you also don't get by just piling dirt onto a slope, even if you do it carefully.
You gotta go and hack and chop and cut that sucka down into the slope, and you gotta know what you're doing.
And when you're done you have a cut slope and you can walk there, and that's just exactly right. It's now a trail. Congratulations, you.
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Me? Cutting and hacking? Me? Get real.
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This is always fun and educational, if not intentional in every case.
And doing this by yourself is a good way to get lost, simply and efficiently.
If you are so confused that you forget where the trail is, and then randomly wander off into the bushes, well, there may be no hope for you.
Because of this possibility, it's always a good idea to hike with companions. Then if all of you are so stupid that the whole bunch of you gets lost at once and has to bushwhack, you can always start eating the weakest members of your group as you go, and that may get you back home again.
On the other hand you might just walk yourself out of danger, back on a trail but into a nasty trial, so it actually could be better just to stay lost and starve to death.
Your call.
(2) Punishing the shrubbery.
You may have to do this from time to time to keep the vegetation in line.
Unenlightened people (i.e., non-backpackers) think that trails are actually maintained by paid drones whose only purpose in life is to go out and cut down little innocent plants so those city slickers can stroll through the landscape without getting grass stains on their socks.
Those slightly more brilliant but still basically cretinous think that trails are kept open by plenty of hikers using them, because of trampling the undergrowth back into oblivion and so on.
This is partly true, but trying it in an area where the shrubs have not been properly disciplined through frequent whackings can result in tragedy, something that all too often is the fate of idiots.
Always take your trekking poles, use them liberally, and never miss an opportunity to whack the flora as you pass by.
It's a jungle out there folks, and you can protect the rest of us by beating it into submission.
(3) Self defense in a mean forest.
This is really a last resort, though not a vacation resort, or a resort vacation, see? But really, if this is needed, then you picked the wrong place to go hiking.
If you notice bushes beginning to surround you or feel slithering vines stealthily snaking up and intertwining with your boot laces (and especially if you are out alone) then it may be too late already, so stop worrying and do something, pronto.
You should keep those trekking poles in your hands where they belong — never out of sight somewhere, never stashed.
Even reaching for a dry, sturdy stick might be a mistake. You never know exactly what you're turning your back on, and you can't count on always having a sturdy free range stick within reach anyway. And that stick may only be feigning death to fool you.
Yes folks, finding yourself way out there somewhere with lots of leaves and branches waving at you and creeping around, and all that nasty whispering going on is not pleasant at all.
You should always, always have companions, so at least you can abandon a few of them to the angry trees while you hotfoot it out of there again and back to town where you only have to face random gunfire.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Thinking about how fun it is to stay home with the cat.
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(1) A German word that ecologists apply to small organisms found on the surfaces of aquatic vegetation in freshwater habitats.
As if we needed a word for that, but aufwuchs is probably as good as any.
At least they don't bark all night.
(2) Glop.
(3) Slimy buildup.
(4) Algae, cyanobacteria, microbes, creepoids, tiny wiggly nameless swallowable things that gloop and munge around on aquatic plants and wet rocks.
(5) A phenomenon also known as "periphyton".
(6) The original German unimaginatively translates as "surface growth" or "overgrowth". But it's all just scum in the yuckpot.
(7) Anything you eat that subsequently makes you barfulent.
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Me? I never touch the stuff myself.
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(1) A sleeping pad made by Therm-a-Rest, now sold under the name "Original Z Lite Sleeping Pad".
It is made of closed cell polyethylene foam, and is reasonably lightweight (14oz/410g).
It folds into a sort of long whippy brick, which makes it easy to pack, or to strap on the outside of one's pack, by some accounts, or results in an awkward accordion of non-compliant plastic foam that has one and only one shape.
Being closed cell foam, this pad cannot accidentally puncture and deflate on you, but then again you can't purposely deflate it and store it more compactly. And if you are a side sleeper, well good luck with that because there really isn't that much cushioning, being only .75 in/2 cm thick.
The R-value, a measure of how well it insulates, is 1.7, which is not a lot, but probably enough most of the time if you sleep on your back and have a decent layer of sleeping bag under you. Since the pad is 72"/183 cm long, there is enough of it to fold into a double thickness and still have your torso taken care of, using your pack or whatnot under your legs, and spare clothing under your head.
(2) Ze rest is what you get if you sleep on ze plastique sheet crinkled like ze corrugated egg crate. Otherwise, and speaking frankly now, this is yet another closed cell sleeping pad, except that this one has a unique surface, and is designed to fold into a long, narrow (but light) brick instead of rolling up.
OK. Sweet dreams then.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Still asleep at the wheedle.
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A "blaze" is a mark, originally a light-colored splotch of fur on the face of a horse or a cow, and such-like critters.
From way back when, the mostest-oldest version of this word meant "to shine, to flash, to burn", which kind of fits. Doesn't it?
Anyway, from from the 1660s on, American English adapted "blaze" to also mean (aside from fur spots, and references to fire) marks cut on tree trunks to show the way. A "blaze" in this sense is mostly used today to apply to the route of the Appalachian Trail in the eastern U.S., where the route is often marked by swatches of bright paint.
So anyway, blazes show the way.
Unless you get tired of walking, when you might choose to catch a ride and then pretend that the yellow lines whizzing by on the highway are also blazes, which they are, sort of, though generally you can sleep through that movie. "Yellow blaze" is a hiker in-joke about trail markers painted on the highway, because you can tell yourself that the yellow-blazed road is a route that you are still conscientiously traveling down.
"Yellow-blazing" then is what a long-distance hiker does by taking to the road instead of sticking to the trail. Catching a car ride around some portion of the trail and picking up the hike at a different point on the trail after watching all the yellow stripes go by. Hitch-hiking or driving somewhere to cut off part of a longer hike. Can be considered cheating, probably mostly by people who keep saying "Hike Your Own Hike". As long as you do it their way.
Whether yellow-blazing is legitimate or not is up to the person doing it, so mind your own business already.
Example: "Seeing the yellow-blazer at the wedding reception seemed odd. She should have been out hiking. Maybe she got dropped off here by accident, or just showed up for the free food."
(Note: Today's term has nothing to do with The Flaming Urine Phenomenon. In fact, we've never even heard of that one, so forget about it right now.)
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Me? Still have never even heard of flaming urine.
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Gasification is a process that converts wood into gases and then burns them at very high temperatures.
The process combusts the wood smoke to a point in a way such that the outputs are only heat and ash.
The process is extremely efficient and gets the most energy out of wood while creating no smoke.
Wood gasification turns wood into carbon monoxide and hydrogen by reacting it at high temperatures with a minimal amount of oxygen.
Without oxygen, the wood doesn't burn but transforms into gas, which then burns.
(2) A simple but clever type of wood-burning stove in which the fuel burns from the top down, so that the heat of the flame generates smoke, which then rises into the flame and is cleanly consumed.
Such a stove can be made simply enough to serve as a lightweight and nearly foolproof backpacking stove.
(3) A stove that burns fumes from wood that's been eating the wrong stuff.
(4) A mythical device created to burn naturally-occurring but elusive gas emanating from forests.
That was based on the "swamp gas stove", which burns naturally-occurring gas emanating from swamps. (Also mythical.)
This in turn was derived from the "spirit burner" a device used by third degree initiates into the secret society of transcendental esoteric ectoplasmic spiritualist chemists, who worked exclusively in the dark, behind heavy, locked, oaken doors draped with thick, sound-deadening curtains. (Also mythical, and so on.)
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Not quite acceptable in polite company any more.
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(1) People making the trail better for hikers — a tradition of charity unto others. Sometimes people leave cold drinks and snacks at trail crossing or they'll pick up hikers on the road and take them home for a day or two of rest, food, laundry, and resupply.
(2) That which surrounds a yogi.
(3) Unexpected goodness falling on the heads of thru-hikers, unbidden. Can include being invited home for dinner, being given clothing, shelter, a warm place to shower, a ride, or might be the discovery of a full stash of water, or more, deliberately left trailside for hikers.
(4) Sex in the woods, preferably with someone smart, fun, good looking, and cleaner than you are.
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Me? Not magic yet. Clean though.
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Short pants that reach only to the thighs or knees, depending on what you've got (legs, etc.).
Tighty-whities are not shorts. Shorts are outerwear. Neither of these should be visible at a formal dinner, for a lot of the same reasons.
A garment worn by both men and women over the pelvic area and covering the upper part of the legs, sometimes extending down to or even below the knee, but not covering the entire length of the leg. Usually an outer garment designed for comfort. (Yawn)
Hiker hot pants. (Now we're talking.)
Underpants. (Nope. Not unless you're all alone, way out there somewhere, and really, really sure that you're all alone, and still want to be tacky.)
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Recently kicked off the island for violating the dress code (wasn't wearing a dress at all).
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Assuming that a waterfall is a thing, rather than a process, (Got that?), a "Ribbon Waterfall" is one that is much taller than it is wide — its height is much greater than its "crest width", the width of the stream at the top, or the beginning point of the waterfall.
So the stream of water going over the falls forms a relatively thin "ribbon" of water that falls a long, long way before it finally goes Splat!.
A ribbon waterfall, then, being much taller than it is wide, looks like a ribbon of water if you squint hard enough from far enough away, though it cannot be worn in the hair or used to wrap birthday gifts. (Too wet, eh? And cold too, likely smells of fish and/or bear poop, and is inconvenient to get ahold of when you need it most, etc.)
This type of waterfall tends to be seasonal, or even "ephemeral", coming and going with the seasons, or appearing and vanishing depending on the amount of water flowing in a particular year. As with the rest of life, ribbon waterfalls are not all that dependable, which can add to their charm, if you like that sort of thing.
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Me? Managed to get out of bed this morning. Woot!
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(1) If a tootle-flute and a drone pipe or two are attached, what you actually have is a bagpipe (aka agony pouch) with shoulder straps.
(2) For a long distance backpacker with an especially hearty appetite, this is a shoulder-strap-equipped bean bag, which handily doubles as a camp chair. The advantage of a pack stuffed with actual beans instead of plastic pellets is that beans have more calories and hurt less on the way out. Plus they are biodegradable, as you may know from personal experience. And they make their own music too, saving you the trouble of learning to play the bagpipe and having to dodge small arms fire from your hiking companions.
(3) A hiker hump.
(4) Pack, or anyway the thing that truly makes a pack a pack. It doesn't matter if you have an external frame pack, an internal frame pack, or a frameless pack, the bag's the thing. You can't do much with a frame all by itself, or just shoulder straps and a hip belt, and anyway the bag determines what the frame is internal or external to.
Yes, you could have a pack bag made of anything really (like cedar shingles, or fiberglass, or welded titanium), but as you'd guess from the word bag, fabric is the real deal. You probably wouldn't be happy with any fabric substitute, no matter how shiny, termite-resistant, or aromatic. With a correctly-sized and fitted pack bag you can carry as many cabbages or rutabagas as you need to see you through a trip, if any, or if you frequently fall into lakes and streams for example, you can augment your air supply with a windbag attachment (which, however, requires expert seam sealing).
Then again, as mentioned earlier, just stick a couple chanters on it and presto, you have your very own agony pouch to play on those lonely nights in camp when you can't sleep because you no longer have any friends. (This scenario is an example of what is called a "vicious circle" or "rotating rathole".)
(5) The fabric sack that holds all your stuff, a bag carried on your back or shoulders by means of one or more straps.
A pack bag really is the important part of a backpack. Without it all you have is straps, and that arrangement would not only identify you as stupid but would look pretty weird as well. But you're a hiker, so what the hey.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Really this weird.
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(1) One inclined to assume that only good things will happen. "The optimist claims that we live in the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears that this may indeed be true." — Queen Elizabeth II (now dead), et al.
(2) Brand of mountaineering and backpacking stoves made in Sweden, from the 19th century through the present. (Woot, and so on.)
(3) A Swedish company founded on June 19th 1899 by three engineers, and still in business as a producer of outdoor stoves, cooksets, utensils, and cutlery. Although the company makes modern liquid-fuel and canister stoves, it still has in production two models that it has been making for many decades, one for 70 years and one for over 100 years. The company is now owned by the Katadyn Group.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Still trying not to burn my fingers while picking my nose.
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A.K.A. "Little Dandy stove", this is a collapsible solid-fuel-burning stove made from flat plates of steel or titanium that link together with tabs and slots in the metal.
Disassembled it is an easily packable set of flat plates but sets up again in seconds.
It was invented by Meredith "Eb" Eberhart (trail name "Nimblewill Nomad"). Its five flat, thin steel plates assemble without fasteners, and quickly unhook again and fold flat for storage.
It was used by Eberhart in 1998 during his 4400 mile, 10 month walk from Key West, Florida to Cape Gaspe, Quebec along the International Appalachian Trail. The stove allowed him to burn anything at hand, and thus to carry no fuel. Smart guy, that one.
As for what to burn in it, see "The Firewood Poem" by Lady Celia Congreve from 1930.
O hey — I guess I have it right here...
These hardwoods burn well and slowly, Ash, beech, hawthorn oak and holly. Softwoods flare up quick and fine, Birch, fir, hazel, larch and pine. Elm and willow you'll regret, Chestnut green and sycamore wet
Beechwood fires are bright and clear If the logs are kept a year. Chestnut's only good, they say, If for long 'tis laid away. But Ash new or Ash old Is fit for a queen with crown of gold.
Birch and fir logs bum too fast Blaze up bright and do not last. It is by the Irish said Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread. Elm wood bums like churchyard mould, E ' en the very flames are cold. But Ash green or Ash brown Is fit for a queen with golden crown.
Poplar gives a bitter smoke, Fills your eyes and makes you choke. Apple wood will scent your room With an incense like perfume. Oaken logs. if dry and old. Keep away the winter's cold. But Ash wet or Ash dry A king shall warm his slippers by.
Oak logs will warm you well That are old and dry Logs of pine will sweetly smell But the sparks will fly Birch logs will burn too fast Chestnut scarce at all sir Hawthorn logs are good to last That are cut well in the fall sir Holly logs will burn like wax You could burn them green Elm logs burn like smouldering flax With no flame to be seen Beech logs for winter time Yew logs as well sir Green elder logs it is a crime For any man to sell sir.
Pear logs and apple logs They will scent your room And cherry logs across the dogs They smell like flowers of broom But Ash logs smooth and grey Buy them green or old, sir And buy up all that come your way They're worth their weight in gold sir.
Logs to Burn, Logs to burn, Logs to burn, Logs to save the coal a turn, Here's a word to make you wise, When you hear the woodman's cries.
Never heed his usual tale, That he has good logs for sale, But read these lines and really learn, The proper kind of logs to burn.
Yawn. (Who is this person?) Are we having fun yet?
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Not that smart, usually.
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Let's see if we can make any of this sound interesting, even a little...
(1) A measuring wheel is a device that records the revolutions of a wheel, converting them to distance traveled by the wheel as it is pushed along a trail. These things are used to measure distance for guidebook descriptions, and, it is said, also used to record the location of spots where trail work needs to be done.
(2) Example: Ed called his measuring wheel a "cyclometer", which is true, as far as it goes, but slower uphill, and sounds almost interesting but still isn't, as you can tell if you've ever seen one.
(3) You know those gizmos that when you see them you think "Wow! I wish I had invented that!"? Well, this isn't one of them.
If you see someone using one of these you'll probably think "Wow! That poor dork has to walk this whole trail pushing some stupid rusty squeaking old piece of rattling metal crap." Which is about right.
Some of them these days could be like the battery-powered bicycle computers that do mileage, current speed, maximum speed, elapsed time, and average speed, plus tell you the time of day and whether you are still the fairest one of all. Or whether it's time to give up on that whole youth and beauty thing, act your age, and cheat.
But if you see a measuring wheel at all you'll probably see the old squeaky kind made of waste iron and held together by twine and hope, because measuring trail lengths is low-tech, low-pay work and no one really gives a damn anyway except people who make maps and, given the profit margins in selling maps to hikers, actually measuring anything could cost enough to put them out of business, so it's easier to copy the numbers from someone else's maps or simply make up whatever numbers sound good. And that kind of explains why you see the same wrong intel on different maps.
The absolute oldest form of measuring wheel was a wheel. But later on, when people got tired of rolling that along with their hands, they put the wheel on a stick so at least they could stand up while it happened, but they still had to count how many revolutions the wheel made, which is a bunch of fun around the almost-done point when you lose count. Which is another reason to make up the numbers.
And why, later on, someone thought of hooking up an odometer to the wheel, to let the odometer do the counting. Which is a lot better until you get to the almost-done point, sit down to take the load off for a few minutes, maybe have a smoke and a swig of water, and accidentally, while brushing dust off the odometer, hit the little button on it that does a reset. Which is yet another reason to make up the numbers.
Hey, you're lucky to even get minimum wage.
And maybe that's why the stick is part of the mechanism, so you can detach it and hit yourself over the head with it, or if you're lucky and have an assistant, and, well, you know where this leads...
And then you start thinking. Not about the assistant with all the fresh lumps and welts, but about the bigger picture. Which is, if some government agency, say, has the time and money to go to the trouble to roll a wheel along a trail, then that explains all the bumps and mud holes and washouts because there isn't enough money left to take care of those things after generating some numbers to put on maps. Most of which are made up anyway, and yet you, dear hiker person, do keep buying maps and going out hopefully, which yet again, in turn, really says a lot about you too, doesn't it, in the end? Really? Eh?
Good luck with the rest of your pointless life.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? Wheel-less but still hoping to count in some way.
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(1) Opposite of heavier. If you are prone to extremism, then you are an ultra-lighter.
(2) Person responsible for forest fires. If this person is especially nuts, and starts lots and lots and lots of fires, they are called an ultra-lighter.
(3) Clever little gizmo for creating fire with. Much more efficient than rubbing two wet sticks together. Easier to use than nuclear weapons. More fun too, since lighters come in a rainbow of colors, and some are almost small enough to stick up your nose.
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Me? Having fun today weighing and sorting my booger collection.
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(1) An edged tool used as a cutting instrument. Has a pointed blade, a sharp edge, and a handle.
(2) A tool for cutting. Consists of a flat piece of hard material, usually steel (this is the "blade"), which is sharpened on one or both edges, and is attached to a handle, which is the part that smart people hold. The blade may be pointed, which makes it all the better for poking with.
(3) Something to cut yourself with.
Almost every backpacker, including ultralighters, always carries some kind of knife, though realistically speaking none hardly ever need anything more complicated than a single-edge razor blade to cut themselves with.
However, a genuine knife can be useful for cutting and splitting wood, for those who burn that stuff, or for those who just like to cut and split wood. Or for hunting water buffalo (when in season).
Unlike a fork, you seldom find a knife in the road, so you can't take it even if you are the sort of person who would, even if you really need one to hunt water buffalo with. Yet another of life's disappointments.
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Me? I didn't do it.
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(1) Messages describing how something is to be done. Usually ignored.
(2) Activities that educate or instruct, imparting knowledge or skill. Usually ignored.
(3) What hikers don't follow when using an unfamiliar piece of equipment.
So we're really just like all the other fools out there? Yeeg.
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Me? Always read 'em. Eventually.
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(1) Also known as: goblin, tent rock, fairy chimney, earth pyramid.
(2) A hoodoo is a finger of rock or hard soil that pokes upward from an arid landscape. Hoodoos range from around five to 150 feet (1.5 to 45 meters) in height.
They form when relatively soft rock, topped by harder rock, erodes away, leaving behind the typical columnar formation. Usually the softer under-rock has a sedimentary or volcanic origin. The hard stuff on top forms a "cap rock", which is like a protective, stony cap on top of the hoodoo.
Hoodoos mainly form in desert or hot, near-desert areas such as the U.S. Southwest's Colorado Plateau and the Badlands regions of the Northern Great Plains.
Two weathering processes create hoodoos: frost wedging and rainfall.
Frost wedging happens when liquid water seeps into cracks and freezes, usually at night. Freezing expands water by about 10%, prying open cracks and splitting rock.
Liquid water washes away loose soil and loose stone, and is also slightly acidic, so it can eat away at certain types of stone over long periods of time..
Different kinds of minerals within different rock types in hoodoos are responsible for horizontal bands of varying colors.
The average hoodoo in Bryce Canyon (known for its hoodoo gardens) erodes at the rate of two to four feet (0.5 to 1.5 meters) per 100 years.
(3) A jinx (originally from baseball slang). A charm. A spell.
"The jinx [is] that peculiar hoodoo which affects, at times, a man, at other times a whole team. Let a man begin to think that there is a jinx about, and he is done for for the time being." (Technical World Magazine, 1911)
Like this: "Don't try no voodoo near them hoodoo. They can fall on you head an give you a good jinxin' fer sure, Ed."
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Me? Still got a pointy head, me.
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Gully erosion is the removal of a deep channel of soil by water running downhill.
Gully derosion is the replacement of a deep channel of soil by water running uphill. (You have to watch closely to see this though — water is tricky).
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Me? Frequently not seen running uphill.
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(1) A result of inadequate trail hygiene. Contrary to what you might think, the most extreme face gardens do not show up on those with the most snout foliage. In fact most of those are little leaguers since it takes just about zero talent at all to accumulate soil, decaying organics, mineral elements, and bits of moss, twigs, and insects in the male beard.
Bearded females, of course, get extra points. Think about it.
The truly dramatic and most staggeringly accomplished thru-hiking gardeners are clean-shaven. How someone can manage to both shave and yet hold onto enough plant food to even sprout a thin layer of vegetation is a matter of brilliant, hard-won skill and closely-guarded knowledge, inherited only down long generations of inbreeding, after acquisition via the most painful means involving the most intricately arcane yet subtle permutations of slovenliness. And the learned part of this skill is in two entirely antagonistic and antithetical realms, face-scraping and horticulture.
Which makes it all the more remarkable that it is possible at all to carry a crop of snow peas to maturity, on one's face, while hiking, while remaining otherwise relatively clean (no, not in town terms — have to be clear about that).
Come to think of it, the most remarkable cases actually are among women, so I guess they get double-extra points all round. Clever critters, as usual, those gals.
(2) A face-first tumble. Takes no talent at all, even if done from atop a bicycle. Though that kind is quite a bit of fun to watch happening in front of you while you are having lunch along the trail.
(3) The act of landing face first, an acquired taste. And soon to be an Olympic exhibition sport, with three divisions, six weight classes, in both team and solo forms.
Try one of these (but only after proper instruction, please): Argentine face plant, arm triangle face plant, chickenwing face plant, diving face plant, double underhook face plant, electric chair face plant, full nelson face plant, full nelson wheelbarrow face plant, kneeling face plant, lifting double face plant, push up face plant, reverse chokeslam face plant, shoulder face plant, sitout face plant, spinning face plant, underhook face plant, and wheelbarrow face plant.
Granted, most of these are not used in backpacking, where face planting is considered gratuitously strenuous. Walking around in dirty underwear with a growling stomach while smelling like an unburied corpse and fleeing from swirling dark clouds of ravenous flies is pretty much enough for most backpackers, most days. Though they do enjoy watching those bicyclists who recently came screaming down the trail as they demonstrate the proper way to execute a rock crusher face plant, which, to be done right, requires a loud thwack and a full-on floral tomato splat. Go for it, boys, please.
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Me? No one really cares.
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(1) A type of hawser dating from the croaking, misty ancient days of wizards and dragons. Made of long-stemmed but sturdy flowers, they were used to secure slip-thin elfin boats to supple wharves at night. After long centuries this practice finally declined. A shortage of blooms and rising wage demands among the blossom weavers was most responsible, plus a scarcity of elves. A lot of weavers also left for less taxing, glitzier work in the hospitality and entertainment industries as Las Vegas mushroomed after the second world war.
A typical daisy chain required 260,000 flowers, took 300 weavers six weeks to create, and wilted to uselessness in 12 short hours on exposure to dragon breath. As with so many traditional crafts, the death of daisy chaining was inevitable as synthetics eventually overtook the market and nylon cable became the norm, outperforming the original vegetable solutions (and attracting fewer bees and biting lizards). Elves thinned out to the point of non-existence, not to mention wizards. And when was the last time you saw a dragon? Hey, really, when? (Though the lingering smell of their breath remains in a few distant and dark valleys.)
(2) If using rope, and you put lots of loops into it you have what is called chain sinnet. It's a method of shortening a piece of rope while leaving it usable as a rope, and can be released in an instant. Other names for this effect are chain shortening and monkey braid. (If sewing or embroidering, your result is instead known as a chain stitch, but it's purely decorative.)
(3) In backpacking, a daisy chain is a length of webbing that is sewn onto a flat surface (like the front of a shoulder strap) and left with lots of slack to form loops, which vaguely resemble chain sinnet. So anyway, for backpacking, you can hang various doodads from these loops or lash things to them. If you don't have any doodads you can use any doohickies, doojiggers, gimmicks, gizmos, gubbins, thingamabobs, thingamajigs, thingummies, whatchamacallits, whatsises, or widgets you might have at hand, or just leave the loops empty and let them snag on twigs and branches as you walk by, like most of us do.
(4) An arcane and highly intricate sexual practice rumored to be engaged in by wood nymphs, but seldom if ever witnessed and far too stimulating and inappropriate to talk about here.
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Me? Wishing I was more inappropriate.
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(1) A trail requiring limited skill with little challenge to travel. Easy is defined as relaxing, posing minimal difficulties and able to be traveled with little physical effort. Moderate is defined as not requiring excessive or extreme physical effort. Difficult is defined as physically strenuous requiring excessive or extreme physical effort. And so on.
(2) A trail of less than four miles (6.5 km) round trip and with less than a 2000 foot (610 m) elevation gain. Round trip hiking time is generally 45 minutes to 3 hours, but inexperienced hikers may take longer, and some of them choose to either get hopelessly lost, or even die sometimes, only one or two steps off the pavement. (Go figure.) This is only a guideline not a rule. You may die in some other, more interesting way.
(3) "Easy Trail" is a description you might use if you want to encourage others to die attempting to negotiate what almost just killed you. If you're that kind of person. Maybe you are. Who can say?
(4) The gummint and assorted experts and hangers-on have gotten into this cookie jar too, and gone ahead and defined difficulty once and for all and for ever and ever, so you no longer have to think. An easy trail is one that someone has decided is relaxing, posing minimal difficulties and able to be traveled with little physical effort. There is nothing really wrong with that. Just assume that trail means a long and narrow piece of ground with few stores fronting it, and you more or less have it. Sort of a skinny park. Yawn. Are we done yet? Can we go home now?
Example: Barb preferred doing the easy trails with Ed, because if she limited him to those trails he didn't end up whining so much.
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Me? Easy, peasy, but still slow and wheezy.
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This can be something that falls off your body or someone else's body, or a thing that falls from some other place and lands on your head. So keep one eye on that hanging stuff up there. Someone gets whacked every so often, and in the woods no one can hear you scream, or cares if you do. Lots of weird stuff goes on out there all the time and none of us pay much attention unless it looks good to eat or happens to be coming right at us with personal intent. Especially if it's getting dark and we just want to close our little eyes and get on with our snoring.
And then if the something that falls is a thing that falls from your body, well don't tell. Don't tell us, anyway, and we won't ask. Keep it secret and keep it covered at all times if at all possible. Don't scratch that spot it in public. Don't brag and don't whine. It happens to all of us now and again, and tends to happen more to people who look like you. It's probably genetic but if not then the rest of us really truly don't want to catch it from you. Wash your hands. Cover your mouth when you cough. Keep away. Wear clean underpants just in case. (You know what Mom said.)
If you are a tree, and your leaves change from that boring flat green color to lots of nice acid-trip versions, and the season is autumn, then you get a pass. This is not only supposed to happen, but everyone absolutely loves it for some reason. You should know this by now so settle down, stop your rustling, and do it already. It's what you were put here for.
If you stand still and look majestic (and are a tree or other certified vegetable) we'll even take pictures of you and put them up on the internet, which is a thing you don't need to know about. Lots of people do this and we don't want to be any different. They tell us it's normal.
So relax. We are children of the universe and no doubt something is either gracefully unfolding as it should or is headed this way to destroy us. Either way it's life — well-known as a definite crap shoot.
(2) "Deciduous", a prose poem by Max Ehrmann, a minor poet and lawyer from Terre Haute, Indiana.
Although some originally claimed that this poem was ancient and profound, and was miraculously found entirely by accident taped to an obscure church basement wall, that's the sort of thing that Aunt Martha says every time she finds some random newspaper clipping slapped on the church basement wall, and you know what she's like.
The rather mundane and awkward original poem of this name, about being stuck in a world full of crimps and spungs and feebs (to use Faulkner's words), was actually heavily edited by some anonymous fool before it was prank-published under the title "Desiderata" before it then got shared around by an army of Aunt Martha clones and slapped on myriads of church basement walls and their greeting card equivalents, but the original was much edgier and boils down to something closer to:
You are trash along the freeway of life. Remember, you have the right to remain silent, and we will ask for your opinion only if we want it. But as far as we are concerned you should just surrender now.
Listen — seriously — you are dull and ignorant. We can tell even from across the room. Any room. No matter how big. You have no story that needs to be told, or that anyone wants to hear.
If you compare yourself with others you will come up short, so don't start. Instead, try to enjoy being a runt, for not everyone can be, and at least you know which hole is yours to fill.
No matter how short the line, you will be at its end, and allowed in last, if at all, especially considering the way you dress. So fake it with caution, if you feel you must try, but you actually have nothing to gain.
Be yourself then, and embrace your loserhood, for that is how we see you. Realize that the world is full of tricks, and all of them will be played on you, for you are also a sucker.
Especially do not feign intelligence, for we know what the real stuff looks like, and it does not look like you, not even a little.
And while love may be a perennial flower spreading joy to the entire world, no joyous bee will be coming over to pollinate you. Forever and a day.
So heed the advice of your betters, who are also much smarter than you. Which is just about everyone, your relatives excluded of course.
We mean it. Give up. The sooner the better. You deserve misfortune, and fatigue, and loneliness, because, if for no other reason, we enjoy watching your clumsy efforts to deal with it.
Be gentle with yourself because no one else has the time right now. Or ever, truth be told.
OK, you probably do have a right to be here, if only to serve as a warning to others. And whether or not this is clear to you, it is increasingly clear to us as your life unfolds.
Therefore be cheerful, for everyone loves a genial idiot, for they are endlessly amusing. (Just switch on the TV for crying out loud — you'll see.)
So strive to be happy. If nothing else your doomed struggles to appear even adequate only enhance your entertainment value.
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Me? Mine hasn't quite hit the ground yet.
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The knobby protrusion at the base of the back of your neck when you lean your head forward. It's used for backpack sizing.
C7 is important.
You need it.
C7 means that it's the seventh (last, bottom) cervical (neck) vertebra. C7 is part of your neck bone, which is connected to your head bone and connected to your back bone and used to measure you for a pack bone. Memorize that.
Anatomists like to number similar things, which is why C7 is C7 and not Louise. (Glad we cleared that up too.)
Anyway, the vertebrae in your neck are like all the rest of them in your whole spinal column. (Because the Lazy Principle. Once you got a thing what works, keep using it, 'K? Then you can take more naps and do less fretting. Fretting is for amateurs and noobs. Laziness is for professionals. Whoever designed the human body is obviously a lazy bastard professional, as you probably know by now.)
So these bony vertebrae things help keep your various body parts together and allow you to stand up on your hind legs with your head held smartly in line as all the other self-respecting tailless apes do. It's a thing, a handy one, a handy thing. And people point and laugh less when you do it like this too.
These vertebrae provide a nice home for your spinal cord while giving various bodily muscles handy places to attach themselves.
Two things about C7 are especially important.
The first is that it works with the other vertebrae in your neck to keep your head attached, of course, as you should know by now, and the other is that the knobby protrusion at its back (the "dorsal process", a place where your muscles grab hold) is a handy landmark for measuring what size pack you need. See?
Measure from C7 down to the top of your pelvis and compare to the manufacturer's chart for the pack you're eyeballing. It's easy from there on out if you're not exceptionally stupid. You're not, are you? (Please see the next paragraph to be sure.)
Note: "C7" is not the same as "C4", which is a plastic explosive and not part of your body, and should not be taken internally and tastes bad too.
That's about it. Time for my nap.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@nullabigmail.com
Me? No — the taste of C4 is not getting any better, even with strawberry jam.
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(1) If you think a swamp is the big time, then back swamp is a step down, a huge step down. Back swamp is somewhere you don't want to be, ever, never.
Captain John Smith, referring to Virginia way back when, first used the word "swamp" because the land there resembled a spongy fungus, or possibly a morass. (From Old Norse or Middle English or Middle Dutch or Middle Low German, one of them or all of them, probably with a heavy emphasis on "low", and "morass".) My ass, your ass, morass, and so on, all on the line, sucky and yucky. Grabbing at your feet if you get anywhere near.
Poor man, that Captain John Smith. He could have been the original Swamp Yankee if only he'd lived farther north. No such luck.
So anyway, compared to a swamp a back swamp is much, much less impressive, even with glitter sprinkled on it.
You may say that a back swamp is a marshy low area along a river, but not right next to it. No, not quite up on stage. Not up to it. Its name is never up there in lights, and its fame even less so.
It is way farther back, between, say, a natural levee and the upland, somewhere in there, reduced to lurking.
But in the way all things find a mediocre average, back swamps are those perennially goopy anonymous low areas in flood plains where fine silt and infinite kinds of muck accumulate and fester, often disguised by thickets of disreputable vegetation virtually twitching with pestilence, and buzzing with crawling things, each of which is waiting for you to come within reach of its biting parts, or its poking stinger, which it probably has too. They all seem to have at least one. And maybe suckers — you never know. Definitely sucking parts though.
(2) If a backwater is a slow, sludgy, slimy, stagnant, infested hole, then imagine what a back swamp must be like. If you dare, that is.
Back Swamps are sagging, soft, squishy, oozing areas around flood plains where deposits of fine silt and clay drift in and settle after the floods that carried them along have sickened and died.
There they stay, muttering to themselves, unshaven, unbuttoned, wearing dirty underpants and going for weeks (possibly months — maybe even years) without a proper bath, eating out of cans, drinking out of bottles, and scanning the horizon unsteadily with bleary, bloodshot eyes, waiting for something to happen.
And then you come by one day, traipsing along merrily in your fine squeaky new boots, festively colored pack, with smiley faces all over your shirt.
Well folks, some people would call this entertainment. Not the hiking. Not the new clothes or the way you are wearing them, no. No. It's the what. What happens to you when you get too close to the back swamp and find out what the opposite of Have a nice day! really is. What it really is.
Which is Mighty Fine Entertainment. Yes indeed. For many, but of course not for you. You get something else.
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Me? Going to clean house right exactly now and hire some security.
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The hiker's favorite acronym. It stands for "All You Can Eat".
Sometimes hikers burning 4000 to 6000 calories per day, or more, coming into a quiet town hosting an unsuspecting AYCE buffet tend to amaze and frighten local people and inspire rapid policy changes at all restaurants in town after taking advantage of an offer like that.
Hikers then get thrown out, and maybe banned. Example: Fred got tossed from the MunchyTown Cafe after cleaning out the AYCE buffet. They said he was pigging out, not munching, and told him not to come back, ever.
There is a story illustrating trail hunger that I came across once upon a time, about four Appalachian Trail (AT) hikers who entered a cafe, settled into a booth, and waited for the server. When she came, she asked what they would like to order. Person A, who happened to be a male, ordered something like two chicken dinners with a side dish of fried potatoes, and another side dish of fried onion rings, a chocolate malt, and apple pie with ice cream. When the server finished writing down all of this, she began to turn away to place the order with the kitchen, but the three other people in the booth began to panic, scared of being left out, virtually shouting "Wait! Wait! We want to order too!"
So about like that then.
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Me? Patiently waiting for feeding time.
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"Zip Stove" was the original name of the ZZ Manufacturing stove. It's now called the "Sierra" stove. It is a self-contained wood stove with a battery-operated fan which keeps the fire going strong. The stove weighs over a pound (half a kilo, but less for the titanium version), plus the weight of a battery (AA or D cell).
Alternate Reality Story
(1) A sort of wood-burning stove made of discarded metal zippers. Can be zipped together for cooking, and then quickly unzipped again for breakdown and storage. When broken down, it resembles a pile of useless zippers, and can safely pass even the most rigorous customs inspection, though it might take hours or even days to reassemble if you lose the instructions, which will likely spoil your lunch and make you cranky.
(2) A sort of wood-burning stove made of sheet metal. (This sounds better already, doesn't it?) And this stove is now called the "Sierra" stove. It has a battery-powered electric fan built into its base so it can operate like a tiny blast furnace. No, really. Has a battery-powered electric fan built into its base? What the fork? Actually said to work pretty well, but it's big and bulky. Some clever individuals have made their own from empty coffee cans and computer fans. A no-moving-parts, no-battery-required wood gas stove works just as well, and is simpler, cheaper and lighter. And you can make it yourself, even with a limited selection of tools, and/or limited intelligence. (Worked for me.) So there.
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Me? Still AC-powered. (Cord not included.)
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(1) The process of food shooting up into your nose when you have a simultaneous hiccup, belch and gag experience while eating. You know. You do.
(2) The sound you make when this happens.
(3) A small in-tent fart that you hope no one else hears. Another good reason to stealth camp.
(4) The soft, hairy, dark stuff you get on yogurt when you've let it sit too long in the container after opening it, or the hair itself, which is really a fungus. Fungus...
(5) A portable, circular tent with a low conical roof, traditionally made of yak hide, or possibly felt, laid over a collapsible framework. Native to the steppes of north central Asia. Mostly too big, complex, and heavy for backpacking use, unless you're an ogre. If so, all bets are off, of course.
(6) The thing you wake up in, suddenly, alone and naked, somewhere on the steppes of north central Asia, in the dead of night, after meeting the supposedly mythical trail yogi and failing to leave even a token offering. You poor, stupid bastard. Better luck next lifetime, if there will be one for you. Probably not, considering.
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Me? Also portable.
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