Wednesday, February 19, 2020

Trail work in the Chiricahua Wilderness

Sometime in 2017

"a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little Minds. "

The Chiricahua Wilderness in SE Arizona, Sierra Club trail maintenance service trip for one week,  bucking logs (cutting downed trees) and grading the trail where needed at about 9,000' elevation .

After walking 2,000 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail PCT in 2015, I pledged myself to volunteer for trail maintenance.  This was the trip to fulfill that pledge.

Preparation. I was looking at either Capitol Reef or Canyonlands for a service trip, but then Lydia wanted to go on this one, with me.  I loaned Lydia my Osprey Exos 48 pack, thinking
 that she wouldn't take too much gear--her pack still weighed more than my Exos 58, even with the 41 ounce tarp and net tent in my pack. Maybe I should have given her the Exos 38. I brought my thru hiker gear, but forgot my down jacket, down pants and sleeping hood.

The trip leader said "get Personal Protective Equipment", which included:

  1. Quality high top boots.  I didn't have any such thing for hiking.  I tried to imagine how that would help "protect" me and failed--the trip leader couldn't really provide a reason beyond "protection." After the trip, I couldn't recall any situation in which they would have prevented injury, other than a rolled ankle that I never suffered in 2,000 miles of hiking the PCT wearing trail runners. I bought a $20 pair of high tops from Big 5 and wore them for the work detail.  Everyone else wore high tops, overkill for trail hiking.  I wore trail runners for the hike into/out-of basecamp.  The boots, laced only as much as I would have for trail runners, were easy to walk with.  I donated the boots before boarding the plane back to Seattle.  "Quality" didn't mean $100 boots for me.
  2. gloves.  I sent a picture of my gloves, the thin ones with which you can almost pick up a dime.  He wrote back yes that'll do.  Thorns easily penetrated them. Acht.  
  3. eye shields.  I sent a photo of some 3M shields that provided coverage over glasses, front and sides.  Yeah, he wrote.  During the demo of sawing technique, he said, no you don't have to get them out.  I never used them and he never commented. Ugggt.
  4. Long sleeve shirts & pants. Trip leader approved of REI Sahara convertible nylon pants.  I saw some $20 pants at Big 5, but not in my size.   I walked to/from basecamp and the work venues in my Patagonia boxer shorts.  I endured a few scratches from some shrubs that hung across the trail, but nothing more.  I brought jeans for the work days--protective, but heavy.  Arrrgh.
  5. Hard hat. Provided by the Forest Service.  Unventilated and just damned hot.  

Everyone else complied without complaint. I wanted everything just right.

For all that fuss, I still got a minor cut from a saw blade whose end tooth wasn't covered by the blade guard.
Many saws didn't have proper blade guards, and some participants were cavalier about safety around the blades.

Food fight. Ann the cook and two trip participants worked each p.m. and a.m. to make meals for the group in an attempt to feed everyone without offending. It largely succeeded.
I couldn't guess the caloric values of the food fed us, but it wasn't enough. I was  hungry 2-4 hours after dinner. Each night, I ate the nuts I bought for such cravings, and ran out on the fourth night. After that, I raided the food boxes and found the peanut butter, bread and olive oil.  I didn't bother to get my spoon to measure out the olive oil--I just took a few sips straight from the bottle.  When you're burning calories at high altitude (>9,000') you don't care where the calories come from--you get 'em.

The high mountain desert air was so-o-o dry, our noses bled just enough for scabs to form inside our nostrils--we were pulling out small pieces of it to decongest our airways.


As for the trail work itself, trail crews use the acronym OHLEC for approaching a log.  O for Objective: remove the part of the log blocking the trail.  H: Hazards, like overhanging trees/limbs or loose debris that could cause workers to lose their footing.  L for Lean/lie of the log, i.e. which part of the log would be under compression forces and which under tension forces.  E for Escape route, for how you'd position yourself before and after the log started to roll.  C for Cut plan, as in cutting from above/below/ angle of cut(s) to facilitate the cut piece's roll from the log/things to put under the log to change the direction of the roll after the cut.

I learned some things. The best situation is to cut on the tension side, but if you have to cut on the compression side you can hammer a wedge into the cut once you have enough of the blade into the log.

"Butt rolls" were pushes with the soles of the feet on a log with the legs from a sitting position above the log.  That was fun when several people combined their power to move logs.

Base Camp
We base camped 3.5 miles in from the ranger station at Rustler Park next to a well built cabin down the Greenhouse Trail.  Cima Park Fire Guard Station near Douglas, Arizona was built in 1934 by the Civilian Conservation Corps. It was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1993 for its "vernacular, log" architecture. It was designed by the USDA Forest Service and served as institutional housing. The listing included four contributing buildings (a cabin, a toolshed, an outhouse, and a barn). I didn't see a barn. Two dead trees, 80 and 120 feet high stood about 100' from the cabin, and though neither seemed about to topple, fearless leader warned against camping anywhere close. Seven people set up their tents within range of those trees. No one stayed in the cabin, as it had a few mouse droppings, (risk of Hanta virus?). Lydia and I camped just out of the trees' striking range under my Ray Jardine tarp. The tarp effectively tempered the sun's power while I napped and allowed cool air to flow through. Once I added the net tent, to add another layer to protect the air mattresses from the ground, it was as hot as every other tent.

On day 6 on the way to the work site, I got a bad left sided headache along with excessive fatigue for an easy walk--I knew getting altitude sickness.  I returned to camp  unaccompanied for meds (Diamox and nifedipine) I'd brought with me. The sweeper decided that I had enough experience to return alone.  In camp, I napped for a hundred minutes and exerted myself minimally for the next 48 hours. My only task was to move the sunshower bags to keep them in the sun all day. Neither the Basecamp nor the work site had cell coverage.  I and no one else had a Garmin Explorer-- the group wouldn't know I was ok until they got back to camp at 4 p.m.  After  the trip, and the descent to 4,200' it took a day before i felt "normal".

"Foolish consistency" Nearly everybody "learned" to backpack in a camping store, where the goal was to sell us as much gear as possible. They probably asked how long a trip we were planning, helped us select a backpack and then took us through the store, picking up everything that we'd  "need".  If everything spilled out the top, we bought the next larger size pack.  No one but I had the benefit of having hiked a long trail (Pacific Crest Trail) and the lessons of how to keep a backpack light, safe and comfortable. 

Bottom line on the trip:. It was my last service trip at high altitude and maybe my last trip cutting logs. I'm not sure I like group camping.  Not very many people know much about altitude sickness.

No comments:

Post a Comment