NOLS if famous (infamous?) for its backcountry culinary arts. Group cooking at NOLS reflects the ingrained philosophy of "taking a pantry in the backcountry". Sneaking a peak into the NOLS SW gear shed confirmed our suspicion: NOLS pots are heavy. And big. Our challenge: preserve the integrity of NOLS cooking programs while lightening their load as well.
Carol Crooker presents her kit to NOLS instructors for our upcoming weekend of trekking in Saguaro NP. The cornerstones of her gear: a ULA Amp, Bozeman Mountain Works' SpinPoncho, and (ahem) a CHAIR KIT for her POE inflatable pad. Spartan - and comfortable.
Peering out for answers into the Rincons, Andy Skurka can't figure out why we're stopping on the trail to ... bake muffins.
Bushwhacking in this desert, I'm told by Scott, a NOLS instructor, requires one to step rather carefully. It's a case where non-mesh shoes and durable gaiters are rather beneficial. Everything - and I do mean - everything - seems to poke you. I found my shins, calves, knees, and thighs poked regularly by brushy things that look benign. Case in point: this yucca plant plunges swordlike appendages into anything that gets near it. I learned to avoid them, and other plants, in remarkably short order. "No, son, these things don't grow in Montana".
Understanding NOLS philosophy, history, and current challenges is vital to breaking through and changing their culture to be one that is receptive of lightweight backpacking. Carol and Don are consummate professionals in this regard, understand the advantages and limitations of lightweight travel in the desert, and offer practical advice, and keen ears, for communicating with NOLS instructors who spend as much as 30 weeks a year in the field. It's a pleasure to have Don and Carol on our team.
Iris leads a pack of veteran NOLS instructors towards Spud Rock. When we asked them what surprised them the most about carrying a light pack, the response was nearly unanimous: "We arrived at camp early, with nothing to do!" This was a similar conclusion for the first NOLS Lightweight Backpacking course held in the Bighorn Mountains of WY last summer, a course led my Mike Clelland.
A jar of Pringles, a warm afternoon, and a ponderosa form the basic trinity for a high desert nap. Somehow, I think Don may have this dialed in pretty good.
NOLS' shelter considerations are not without its challenges. The impending plague of West Nile has students' parents concerned enough that shelters capable of protecting students from mosquitoes during the peak season are worthy of consideration. Risk management can be as simple as a full-perimeter tarp with some mosquito mesh sewn around the edges. Here, we extol the virtues of a Shires' TarpTent, which piques the interest of some of the instructors as a reasonable option for many of the personal trips.
Andy's prototype of the '07 Bozeman Mountain Works Stealth 1 Nano weighs three and a half ounces. One of those pot grabbers used by standard NOLS courses probably weighs 3.5 ounces.
We arrived at Spud Rock Camp and the spring was dry. Because it was already late in the day (noonish), and we were bushed from the long hike (six miles), and feeling gut-heavy from mid-morning muffins, we sent Skurka on a five mile run to find water. He came back with a positive report of water at the Devil's bathtub, so late in the afternoon, all rested from our discussions of lightweight techniques, we loaded up and headed to the 'tub to cook dinner.
Stephen and his GoLite Jam2 rest at the Devil's Bathtub, an oasis of beauty and comfort in this arid land.
Carol interviews Scott for a podcast to appear soon at BackpackingLight.com. Ponderosa pine provides a sound cathedral that offers beauty captured on audio akin to that of a cathedral hall.
Lush grasses in the high desert hide plants that poke, spear, spindle, and tickle. I stuck to the trail after seeking minimal reprieve in the soft grass. Here, with temperatures climbing into the 80s, the welcome feel of the wind, and rhythmic yawning of the grasses made desert travel as enjoyable as anything I've done in Montana.
The fishhook cactus is aptly named, eh? Scott says you can sit on them without causing you pain. I didn't test the theory. One of these fishhooks going the wrong direction in the wrong spot was an image I didn't want others to see.
Desert sunsets are remarkable. Alpenglow - as we call it in the mountains - turns dry desert plants into pink, glowing trophies of the southwest. And the grandest of them all - the Saguaro cactus - conveys images of cowboy poetry, Louis L'Amour, horses, grand bank robberies, Billy the Kid, gunfights on a dirt street, etc. The wild west remains alive, and beautiful. But, like the lodgepole forests of Montana, Saguaro "forests" are threatened by development, overuse of water, drought, and poaching. Remarkable to me, when driving around Tucson, was the rampant and seemingly disorganized encroachment of million-dollar homes in the middle of majestic Saguaro fields, complete with swimming pools, vast green lawns, and gated perimeters. Welcome to the New West.
