The John Muir

Brothers Hank and Brian Leukart hike the John Muir Trail over 18 days, while investigating the history of John Muir, Ansel Adams, and the native peoples of the California Sierra.

There’s a very important reason we love going on trips like this. If there’s one word that we would use to describe it, it’s “reset.” It’s resetting our expectations for the world, our expectations for myself, and getting away from all of the stresses that cause us anxiety in our everyday lives.

Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, The John Muir, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

Top 10 Best Hikes in the World

Hank and Brian Leukart look back on their past decade of trekking.

Over the past decade-plus, my brother Brian and I have hiked across the most beautiful landscapes around the world. Now, at the start of a new decade, we decided to look back and pick the best hikes we’ve ever done. In our new video, we discuss the adventures in detail and reminisce about our experiences in the outdoors. Can you guess which hikes we picked?

Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Top 10 Best Hikes in the World, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

Meet Me in the Alps

Hiking the 12-day, 170-km Tour du Mont Blanc with five friends from around the world.

LES HOUCHES, France — Experience the stunning Tour du Mont Blanc, a 170-kilometer (106-mile), 12-day circuit around Mont Blanc, the highest mountain in Western Europe. Hank gathers five friends from around the world to hike over the route’s 11 mountain passes — including the Col du Bonhomme, Col des Fours, Col de la Grande Ecaille, Col de la Seigne, Grand Col Ferret, and the Fenêtre d’Arpette. They also stop at classic refuges, including Auberge du Truc, La Croix du Bonhomme, Refuge Robert Blanc, Refuge Elisabetta, and the Refuge de la Flégère.

How to Hike the Tour du Mont Blanc

• OVERVIEW: The Tour du Mont Blanc is the ultimate tour of the European Alps. During the trip, hikers earn fantastic views of the highest mountains in Western Europe, climb over 11 mountain passes (depending on route and weather), and get a chance to eat lots of excellent French, Italian, and Swiss cuisine. The standard 170-kilometer (106-mile) route takes about 10 days, though the trip can be made longer with a smattering of side-trips along the way. Our trip’s cumulative elevation gain was about 12,000 meters (40,000 feet), so the hike is often physically challenging -- though achievable by most people with decent fitness.
• GEAR: The refuges along the way make this hike unique, because the services they provide make it possible for hikers to bring significantly less gear than they might otherwise on a trip of this length. We completed the trip without carrying a tent, sleeping bags or sleeping pads, and we carried only a minimal amount of snack food, instead eating most meals at the refuges and picking up lunch supplies from bakeries.
• LOGISTICS: Set at least two weeks aside total for the flights in and out of Europe, a couple buffer days for bad weather, and the trek itself.
• ROUTE: Shown below is the 12-day hiking schedule that we followed.
  • DAY 1: Les Houches to Auberge du Truc (14.1 km, 1,489 m gain, 8 hours)
  • DAY 2: Auberge du Truc to Refuge de La Croix du Bonhomme (18.2 km, 1,473 m gain, 9 hours)
  • DAY 3: La Croix du Bonhomme to Refuge Robert Blanc (9.1 km, 909 m gain, 7 hours)
  • DAY 4: Refugio Robert Blanc to Refuge Elisabetta (8.2 km, 436 m gain, 6 hours)
  • DAY 5: Refuge Elisabetta to Courmayeur (9.4 km, 520 m gain, 4 hours)
  • DAY 6: Courmayeur to Rifugio Bertone (11.1 km, 962 m gain, 4 hours)
  • DAY 7: Rifugio Bertone to La Fouly (25.4 km, 1,278 m gain, 11 hours)
  • DAY 8: La Fouly to Champex (18.6 km, 684 m gain, 10 hours)
  • DAY 9: Champex to Trient (16.0 km, 1,272 m gain, 10 hours)
  • DAY 10: Trient to Argentiere (14.2 km, 1,036 m gain, 7 hours)
  • DAY 11: Argentiere to Refuge de la Flégère (9.7 km, 992 m gain, 5 hours)
  • DAY 12: Refuge de la Flégère to Les Houches (19.8 km, 996 m gain, 10 hours)
  View our route and download the Without Baggage Tour du Mont Blanc GPS track in GPX or KML format.

Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Meet Me in the Alps, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

The Neverending New Zealand Story

Watch me hike and paddle across New Zealand in my video blog series.

When I was a kid, I loved watching adventure movies. I liked the idea that someone could set out totally on their own, and then discover amazing things, test themselves against real dangers, make new friends, and learn so much about themselves and the world. So, when I grew up, I started heading out on my own adventures. And one day, I decided that I wanted to really test myself — to see what I was capable of. And that’s when I headed out for my biggest adventure of all.

The Neverending New Zealand Story is my first video blog series. To see all 23 episodes of Season 1, you can watch this playlist. Season 2 is coming soon!

Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, The Neverending New Zealand Story, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

Float to the Superstitions

Brothers packraft Arizona's Salt River and backpack the Superstition Mountains.

SUPERSTITION WILDERNESS, Arizona —In 2014, my brother, Brian, and I packrafted Arizona’s Salt River and backpacked the Superstition Mountains. This was our first packrafting trip. We drowned an SLR camera, lens, iPhone, and audio recorder due to a bad dry bag during this trip, so this entire video was shot on a small snapshot camera and an GoPro. We tried.

How to Backpack the Superstition Wilderness

• OVERVIEW: The one-way backpacking trip starting at the Boulder Canyon Trailhead at Canyon Lake, to Box Canyon and Dutchman's Trail, to Weavers Needle and the Peralta Trailhead is a three-day, 30-mile wilderness hiking trip. The route takes hikers through the beautiful Superstition Mountains, filled with fantastic scenery, desert wildlife, and tons of mesmerizing saguaro cacti. (Yes, we also attempted to packraft from the Upper Salt River to Canyon Lake on our trip, but we didn’t make it due to weather conditions and lack of gear. I leave that part of the trip as an exercise to the reader.)
• LOGISTICS: Fly to Phoenix, Arizona. Rent two cars and drive them to the Peralta Trailhead. Drop one there, and then drive to the Canyon Lake Marina and Campground parking lot. Park in the designated, free parking, and walk across the street to the Boulder Canyon Trailhead.
• SAFETY: Water availability is the biggest issue for this trip. The National Forest Service provides a good trail map that indicates where springs can be found, but water availability is variable, especially in the summer. Confirm the availability of water sources with the ranger station before heading out. And, of course, stay away from cactus spines. Do not get cactused.
• ROUTE: We completed this trip in three days:
  
  
  • DAY 1: Hike from Boulder Canyon Trailhead to Box Canyon (optional side trip) and then toward Second Spring. (10.5 mi, 1,885 ft gain, 10 hours)
  • DAY 2: Hike from Second Spring to Charlebois Spring (7.7 mi, 1,110 ft gain, 7 hours)
  • DAY 3: Hike from Charlebois Spring, on Dutchman’s Trail, past Weaver’s Needle, to the Peralta Trailhead (11.6 mi, 1,900-ft gain and loss, 11 hours)
    View our route and download the Without Baggage Superstition Wilderness GPS track in GPX or KML format.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Float to the Superstitions, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-superstition-wilderness/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/photographs/bears-ears/ Tue, 25 Jul 2017 00:00:00 PST

  New Without Baggage photographs: A packraft trip in Bears Ears.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This photograph collection, Bears Ears National Monument, Utah, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/photographs/bears-ears/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-bears-ears/ Tue, 25 Jul 2017 00:00:00 PST

  Bears Ears

  A hiking and packrafting trip to explore Utah's newest national monument reveals an ongoing political fight.

  BEARS EARS NATIONAL MONUMENT, Utah — On December 28, 2016, President Obama set aside 1.3 million acres of federal land in southeastern Utah, to be known as Bears Ears National Monument. To protect the land, Obama used the Antiquities Act, the same law that Teddy Roosevelt used in 1908 to protect the Grand Canyon. Native American groups and environmentalists hailed Obama’s decision, but oil, gas, and mining companies and Utah Republicans opposed the creation of the Monument. In May, I asked my friend Jake to join me on a trip to Utah for a hiking and paddling trip to explore Bears Ears. There, we discovered adventure — and an ongoing political fight that epitomizes the strange culture war sweeping America.

  How to Hike and Packraft Bears Ears and the San Juan River

  • OVERVIEW: The one-way packrafting trip starting at the Honaker Trailhead in Bears Ears National Monument, down the San Juan River, and through Slickhorn Canyon to Polly Mesa, is a strenuous, three or four day wilderness trip with 18 miles of hiking and 23 miles of paddling. The route takes hikers on the historic, rugged Honaker Trail, down a beautiful section of the San Juan River, and, finally, through Slickhorn Canyon, with fantastic scenery, archaeological sites, remarkable geographic features, and desert wildlife.
  • LOGISTICS: Fly to Salt Lake City, Utah (5-hour drive), Flagstaff, Arizona (4-hour drive), or Grand Junction, Colorado (4-hour drive). (You can also consider Page, St. George, or Moab, if you’re flying from a nearby regional airport.) Rent two cars -- high-clearance vehicles are essential; four-wheel-drive is recommend in case of rain -- and drive them to the Kane Gulch Ranger Station to pick up your overnight permit. Then, drive both cars for 30 minutes to Polly Mesa by driving on south UT-261, then turning west onto Slick Horn Road (after 9.6 miles, unmarked and unpaved) and leaning left onto Point Lookout Road (after 2.6 miles, unmarked). Leave one car there, and drive the other car to the Honaker Trailhead above the San Juan River by returning to UT-261 and continuing south for 18.3 miles. Then, turn right on UT-316 and then lean right after a half mile onto Johns Canyon Road.
  • PERMITS: A float permit from the Bureau of Land Management is required year-round to paddle the 102-mile section of the San Juan River between Montezuma Creek and Clay Hills, Utah. Permits are issued through a pre-season lottery and by reservation for the permits remaining after the lottery. Permits can be reserved on Recreation.gov. In addition, a permit is required year-round for those hiking or camping in Grand Gulch or Slickhorn Canyon. Overnight permits must be obtained on the morning of the first day of the trip at the Kane Gulch Ranger Station, though permits can be reserved up to 90 days in advance by calling the the BLM Monitcello Field Office at (435) 587-1510.
  • PACKRAFTS: The itinerary below requires packrafts, five-pound rafts that can fit into a backpack. They tend to be stable, forgiving crafts that flow over waves easily and are resilient when bouncing off sharp rocks. Hypothermia is a risk; it's easy to get very cold while rafting in cold weather because you expend less energy than you do while hiking. Packrafts position you almost directly on the water's surface, so you will get wet. Wear warm, synthetic clothing, and put on more layers than you would for hiking. Be sure to bring a patch kit (duct tape, Aquaseal) in case a valve leaks or you manage to punch a hole in the raft -- otherwise, you could end up with an unexpected, long hike home.
  • ROUTE: We completed this trip in four days, though the first two days could easily be compressed into one.
    
    
    • DAY 1: Hike from Honaker Trailhead to Honaker Camp (3.2 mi, 1,458 ft descent, 3 hours)
    • DAY 2: Packraft from Honaker Camp to Johns Canyon (14.9 mi, 3 hours)
    • DAY 3: Packraft from Johns Canyon, through Government Rapid, to Slickhorn Canyon (7.8 mi, 3 hours) and hike into Slickhorn (2.7 mi, 1,162 ft gain, 3 hours, difficult)
    • DAY 4: Hike from Slickhorn Canyon to Polly Mesa (10.6 mi, 3,308 ft gain, 8 hours)
    
    View our route and download the Without Baggage Bears Ears Packraft GPS track in GPX or KML format.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Bears Ears, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-bears-ears/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-nepal-three-passes/ Mon, 03 Apr 2017 00:00:00 PST

  Three Passes

  Hiking Nepal's tough, high-altitude, Everest-region trek.

  GOKYO, Nepal — In October of 2014, a friend of mine from college, Susan, sent me an email.

  “I’ll be in Nepal in a few weeks,” she wrote. “I couldn’t find anyone to join me. If you hadn’t already been to Nepal, I would demand that you join me.”

  Three weeks later, I was in Nepal with her, hiking the famous Three Passes trek in the Khumbu Region. More of the story is to come, but you can watch the movie of our trip (above) now.

  How to Hike Nepal’s Three Passes

  • OVERVIEW: The Three Passes Trek is the ultimate tour of Nepal’s Mount Everest region, otherwise known as the Khumbu. During the trip, hikers earn fantastic views of the highest mountains in the world, climbs to three mountain passes and three peaks all with altitudes of over 5,000 meters, and a taste of authentic Nepalese culture. Depending on the peaks visited, the trek’s length is “only” about 166 kilometers (103 miles), but most of the hike is spent at altitudes above 5,000 meters (16,400 feet) and the cumulative elevation gain is about 11,000 meters (36,000 feet), making this one an intensely difficult physical test.
  • GEAR: The tea houses along the trails make the trek unique, because the services they provide make it possible for trekkers to bring significantly less gear than they might otherwise on a trip of this length. We completed the trek without carrying a tent, sleeping bags or sleeping pads, and we carried only a minimal amount of snack food. Trekkers can eat all of their meals at tea houses (though the food is rarely great) and rely on tea houses to supply blankets. Avoiding carrying heavy gear makes a huge difference in terms of difficulty at these altitudes.
  • LOGISTICS: Set at least three weeks aside total for: the flights in and out of Nepal, a couple buffer days on either end of the trek in case of bad flying weather, and the trek itself. Book a normal commercial flight to Kathmandu, Nepal, then book the terrifying flight to the small mountain village of Lukla on a local Nepalese carrier. We booked ours through Yeti Airlines.
  • DANGERS: Acute mountain sickness from hiking at high altitudes can lead to high altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) or high altitude cerebral edema (HACE), both of which are potentially fatal. The only known cures for altitude sickness are immediate descent to lower altitude or oxygen administration. To avoid altitude sickness, once above 3,000 meters (10,000 feet) hikers should avoid a net elevation gain of more than 300 meters (1,000 feet) each day, and allow for rest days to give the body time to acclimatize.
  • ROUTE: Shown below is the 15-day hiking and acclimatization schedule that we followed. However, most people do this trek in about 19 days, which makes the hike less grueling and gives more time for exploring side trips.
    • DAY 1: Lukla to Phakding (7.7 km, 209 m gain, 3 hours)
    • DAY 2: Phakding to Namche Bazaar (12.7 km, 1,116 m gain, 7 hours)
    • DAY 3: Acclimatization day, side trip to Khumjung and Khunde (12.3 km, 757 m gain, 7 hours)
    • DAY 4: Namche Bazaar to Thame (11.1 km, 707 m gain, 5 hours)
    • DAY 5: Acclimatization day, side trip to Sundhar Peak (9.3 km, 1,194 m gain, 7 hours)
    • DAY 6: Thame to Lundgen (11.5 km, 805 m gain, 7 hours)
    • DAY 7: Lundgen to Gokyo over Renjo La (12.5 km, 1,097 m gain, 7 hours)
    • DAY 8: Gokyo Ri climb (4.2 km, 659 m gain, 5.5 hours) followed by Gokyo to Thaknak (4.3 km, 202 m gain, 2 hours)
    • DAY 9: Thaknak to Dzongla over Cho La (9.5 km, 856 m gain, 6.5 hours)
    • DAY 10: Dzongla to Lobuche (6.5 km, 355 m gain, 2.5 hours) with side trip to Kala Pattar (13.4 km, 921 m gain, 8 hours)
    • DAY 11: Lobuche to Chukking over Kongma La (11.7 km, 865 m gain, 8 hours)
    • DAY 12: Chukking Ri climb (6.2 km, 829 m gain, 4.5 hours)
    • DAY 13: Chukking to Pangboche (11.3 km, 848 m descent, 4 hours) with side trip to Ama Dablam Base Camp
    • DAY 14: Pangboche to Namche Bazaar (15.2 km, 771 m gain, 1,127 m descent, 6.5 hours)
    • DAY 15: Namche Bazaar to Lukla (19.8 km, 710 m gain, 1,232 m descent, 7 hours)
    View our route and download the Without Baggage Three Passes Trek GPS track in GPX or KML format.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Three Passes, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-nepal-three-passes/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-mars-academy-first-look/ Thu, 19 Jan 2017 00:00:00 PST

  Mars Academy, a first look

  Filming a feature-length documentary in Brazil's City of God.

  CITY OF GOD, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil — In 2015, I traveled to Brazil’s City of God in Rio de Janeiro for two weeks with four scientists who work with NASA to direct a documentary film. Our goal was to bring NASA science — through hands-on experiments and field trips to Brazil’s islands and rainforests — to a group of kids who would otherwise never be exposed to it. The scientists surprised the kids with an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experiment: the chance to do their own exploring on Mars using an actual NASA spacecraft.

  This was a meaningful travel experience for a lot of reasons, but the most rewarding part for me was getting to spend time and have conversations with the kids and their families. The trip was a perfect example of the power of a slow, authentic travel experience.

  I’ve nearly completed a feature-length film about the project, and I’ll write more about my experience in Brazil here when the film is ready. For now, you can watch the film’s double-length trailer that I made above. I hope you enjoy it!

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Mars Academy, a first look, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-mars-academy-first-look/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-i-dont-take-beach-selfies/ Mon, 12 Dec 2016 00:00:00 PST

  I don't take beach selfies.

  Watch me visit 28 friends in 30 destinations around the world in five minutes.

  After writing this travelogue for ten years and creating travel videos for five, I decided it was time to try to capture the spirit of Without Baggage in a short video. It took me a couple months of intermittent work to end up with I don’t take beach selfies, which you can watch above. In the five minute video, I visit 28 friends in 30 destinations around the world.

  Making this video was hard for a bunch of reasons. I have over 8,000 gigabytes of video footage from the past five years, and it was almost too much to look through. Nevertheless, my heart broke as I looked through the footage and discovered the number of trips I had taken (before phone cameras and DSLRs) without filming anything. Then, even when I finally pulled together a string-out of my favorite moments from the last five years, trying to cull the 15 minutes of material to a mere 5 five was agonizing. I know that some travel-focused YouTubers have two-minute highlight reels which pack in nearly 100 destinations, but my travelogue has always been focused on narrative. I wanted my video to feel like watching a group of compelling stories, as opposed to a breathless reel of bungee jumps and beach selfies.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, I don't take beach selfies., originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/films-i-dont-take-beach-selfies/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/trans-catalina/ Sun, 14 Aug 2016 00:00:00 PST

  Waking sleeping bison

  Backpacking the Trans-Catalina Trail across California's Catalina Island with a new backpacker.

  First, watch my Waking Sleeping Bison mini-movie to see crazy bison charging at us in the middle of the night! Then, read everything about the trip below.

  CATALINA ISLAND, California — “What if this is a huge mistake?” asks Parker while gazing down toward the end of the Trans-Catalina Trail, which has nearly been subsumed by the post-sunset dusk. “It’s almost dark, and we might run into a bison. Maybe we should turn around.”

  I’m astonished. Though this is Parker’s first backpacking trip, and we have walked a surprisingly challenging 41 miles (66 kilometers) over the past three days across California’s Catalina Island, this is the first time she has said anything negative, let alone expressed any doubt about finishing the trip. But, we’re only 1.5 miles from the end of the trail.

  “Parker, we’re only a mile away, and you wanted to get to Starlight Beach by sunset tonight,” I say. “We can’t turn back now.”

  Only a week before this moment, Parker and I were sitting in a Los Angeles sports bar, ostensibly watching Parker’s alma mater team (University of Alabama) win the National Championship, but mostly dreaming of ideas for winter travel and outdoor adventures.

  “What about the Trans-Catalina?” Parker suggested. “This is a perfect time of year for it.”

  “Yes! I have wanted to do that for years, and I think it’s a pretty easy trip!” I said. “You know, I have time now to take four days — would you be able to go right away, like next week?” I asked.

  And, so, after a handful of days of planning, an overnight stay at Catalina’s perfectly chic Pavilion Hotel, and some exceptionally yummy swordfish tacos at Luau Larry’s bar next door, Parker and I set out one morning along Catalina’s coastline to start trekking across the island.

  “What are the trash bags for?” Parker asked, as we looked back at the unique, shiny, circular Catalina Casino sitting at the edge of the water. Since she had never tackled a multi-night backpacking trip before, she diligently packed everything on my suggested packing list, which some ultralight backpacking aficionados might argue is a tad too comprehensive.

  “I don’t know, exactly,” I said. “But, I always need them for something.”

  “Do you think we’re going to see bison?” Parker asked. “That’s the only thing that really scares me.” In 1924, a Hollywood film crew brought fourteen bison to Catalina to shoot a movie, but, after the studio canceled the shoot, the crew never returned the buffalo to the wild. Today, Catalina has over 150 mostly docile bison roaming the island, though in one recent incident, a land surveyor had to be airlifted to a hospital in Los Angeles after being gored by one of the bison only 4 months before our trip.

  “I doubt we need to worry much,” I said. “I bet we won’t even see one.”

  After a scenic hike along the coastline, an interesting jaunt through a seldom-seen industrial part of Avalon, Catalina’s biggest harbor town, and a climb up a “shortcut,” the two of us arrived at the Trans-Catalina Trailhead. We were off on our adventure.

  Over the course of the next ten hours, we realized quickly that not only is the Trans-Catalina Trail not easy, but it’s an exceptionally challenging backpacking trip. The Trail’s first five miles demands that hikers climb over 1,600 feet (500 meters) to the first day’s high point, and the relentless rolling hills that follow are a test of endurance. On the way up, we met a man named Travis, carrying a surprisingly small backpack, who told us that he lived in South Dakota and had just cycled for six weeks from Las Vegas to Los Angeles and then decided to walk the Trans-Catalina by himself. We hiked and talked with him for a few minutes, but, soon, he left us behind due to the astounding stamina he developed cycling.

  Only a few minutes later, just before lunch, Parker and I spotted a bison, about a half-mile away from us on a bluff, near a reservoir.

  “Don’t walk toward it!” Parker urged. But, we realized quickly that the trail didn’t lead anywhere near the lumbering animal, and we continued hiking. When the impatient winter sun set around 5 PM, it became obvious that we didn’t start hiking early enough in the morning, given that we still had two miles of climbing remaining to get to Black Jack Campground. We were near the top of our final 500-foot climb when Parker heard a rustling sound ahead of us in the dark.

  “What is that?!” Parker whispered.

  “Probably just the rain or the wind,” I said.

  “Wait, there’s a bison right in front of us!” Parker said. “I see it. I see it! We just woke it up!”

  I shined my headlamp into the inky night in front of us, but I saw only darkness. I was about to tell Parker that she was imagining things when, suddenly, I saw two eerie blue points of light reflected from my headlamp. I realized that they were the eyes of a bison, the largest indigenous land mammal in North America, and he was standing only 100 feet from us in the dark. We were terrified.

  “What do we do? What do we do?” Parker whispered. “What if he charges at us?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know!” I said. “We should have Googled this.”

  Scared, the two of us backed away very slowly and then followed the trail away from the bison, toward Black Jack, until we finally found our campsite.

  “It’s definitely already an adventure,” Parker said as we nestled into our sleeping bags, relieved not to have been killed by an angry bison. We fell asleep listening to the sound of light rain vibrating on the tent’s rain fly.

  In the morning, we awoke to a dew-covered world. Parker spread one of her plastic trash bags on the seat of a nearby picnic table to avoid getting our pants soaked while we enjoyed morning coffee. Then, after a slow packing process, we climbed 2.5 miles and 700 feet through dense fog and sprawling prickly pear patches to the Airport in the Sky, an airport built in the late 1930s near Catalina’s highest elevation. There, we ate a big breakfast burrito and veggie burger, did some Googling about bison safety, and then dropped 1,500 feet to Little Harbor on the island’s south coast, only to begin a 1,800-foot (550-meter) ascent and descent over rust- and celery-colored mountain peaks on the way to Two Harbors, back on the island’s north coast. We were rewarded with seemingly infinite, sparkling blue ocean views, but the grueling climbs and descents meant that the sun again left us behind with two miles remaining to Two Harbors Campground.

  “The bison seem to come out on the trail at night,” Parker said, nervously. “We’ve gotta get there fast.” Suddenly, Parker stopped walking and stared into the darkness ahead. “Wait, what is that? Is it a bush? No, it’s another bison!” Parker said.

  “It’s probably just a bush growing in the trail,” I said, suspecting Parker had become paranoid due to last night’s unexpected encounter.

  “Then why is the bush moving?!” Parker asked.

  Shining my headlamp toward the “bush,” I realized that she was right; there they were again: the tell-tale blue reflections from the bison’s eyes.

  “That is so crazy,” I said. The bison was standing right in the middle of the trail, staring at us, so we decided to walk around him off trail, hoping to avoid disturbing him. But, as we were walking around, we heard the bison pawing the ground, which, we read earlier, is one of the signs that bison might charge imminently. We froze in our hiking shoes again.

  “What is he doing?” Parker whispered. Suddenly, we heard the huge 1,300-pound (600-kilogram) bison start running at full speed. “Oh no, is it coming toward us?!”

  Immediately, though, we realized that the sounds of the bison’s hooves were diminishing, and the bison was running away from us. Nervously, we continued down the trail, with Parker still wondering whether every bush was a bison waiting to pounce. Surprisingly, when we arrived at Two Harbors Campground, we encountered yet another bison blocking the path to our campsite. By now, Parker’s bison paranoia didn’t seem crazy anymore. After skirting bison number four, we ran into our friend Travis again.

  “Did you guys see that bison wandering around the camp?” Travis asked. “You can kind of sense their personalities. This one seems like a chill dude.”

  Parker’s looked skeptical, but she eventually became used to having a pet bison in camp, and the two of us settled into the tent for the night. In the end, Travis was right — the chill-dude bison didn’t seem very interested in us.

  By the time we woke up in the morning, both Travis and the bison were gone. Over the next four miles, the “trail” — which was really just a dirt road not designed for backpacking at all — climbed nearly 2,200 feet (670 meters), without any switchbacks. To give an idea how difficult this section of the hike was with heavy backpacks, it’s worth noting that one of the National Park Service’s guides for trail construction standards recommends that no trail have a grade exceeding 10 percent for more than 100 feet. In contrast, the “trail” from Two Harbors to Parsons Landing has a section with a 13.5 percent average grade for 2.2 miles straight. Even for the two-hour hike down from the top, the trail has an average grade of near 11 percent for a three-mile stretch, which, with heavy backpacks, is almost harder than climbing up. Whoever decided to designate a hodgepodge of Catalina’s dirt roads as a hiking trail almost certainly had no experience building trails and had never been hiking or backpacking in their lives.

  Nevertheless, Parker and I pushed on. Parker’s energy seemed boundless, but my stamina started to wane. When we reached the trail’s high point, we celebrated with some candied pecans and gummy bears, which gave me a burst of speed and strength for the trip down to the beach. But, when we finally reached Parsons Landing after six hours and an additional 2,000-foot down-climb, the idea of hiking the day’s remaining 9 miles to the end of the trail at Starlight Beach and back seemed miserable.

  “Maybe we should finish the trail tomorrow instead,” I suggested to Parker.

  “I kind of want to get to Starlight by sunset,” Parker said. “Can we try?”

  So, after a big lunch, we left most of our gear at the beach and and started off toward Starlight with only our dinner and two hours remaining before nightfall. On the way, immediately before a steep uphill section of trail, we ran into Travis again.

  “Oh no, do we have to go up that steep hill?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, just climb up that and then you only have about two miles left,” he said as he rushed off toward Parsons Landing to try get back before dark. Though I feel a pang of embarrassment that Parker and I have never made it to our camp before dark during our entire trip, I still feel proud that we’ve managed to hike every mile super-fit Travis has, despite Parker’s inexperience and my recent lack of gym and hiking time.

  Nevertheless, this is the moment when Parker loses her will.

  “Two more miles?! What if this is a huge mistake? It’s almost dark, and we might run into a bison. Maybe we should turn around.”

  The impressive thing to me about Parker is that, even now, when I can barely lift my leg for one more step, it’s not that her endless energy has been exhausted or her indestructible will has been destroyed. She’s just understandably afraid of being gored by a bison in the dark, over 10 miles from any help.

  “Parker, we’re only a mile away and you wanted to get to Starlight Beach by sunset tonight,” I say. “We can’t turn back now. You could have convinced me a couple miles ago, but we’re so close!”

  Reluctantly, she agrees to go just a bit father as long as we don’t see any bison, and, two miles later, with only a few glimmers of orange and purple sunlight dancing above the horizon, we arrive at Starlight Beach, the end of the Trans-Catalina Trail. When we collapse together on a ledge above the surf to start cooking our dinner, Parker pulls out a Nalgene water bottle filled with wine to celebrate. After all, Parker has completed her first backpacking trip ever, and I’ve completed one of the most physically strenuous short (three-day) backpacking trips I’ve ever done.

  I don’t mention it to Parker, but I have a sneaking suspicion that yet another chill-dude bison is standing above us on a bluff, secretly watching us eat. I imagine that, to him, the hikers arriving at Starlight Beach to celebrate their victory night after night are like Bison Netflix. As Parker and I drink wine and recount our trip’s best stories under the moonlight, I imagine that the bison and his friends are celebrating too: congratulating themselves on making sure that all Trans-Catalina hikers feel accomplished by forcing them to pass through a nearly impenetrable bison gauntlet.

  “I loved the hike,” Parker says as she devours her macaroni and cheese. “I loved it.”

  How to Hike the Trans-Catalina Trail on California’s Catalina Island

  • OVERVIEW: The Trans-Catalina Trail is a very strenuous four-day, 55-mile (89-kilometer) hiking trip — with a total elevation gain and loss of over 12,000 feet (3,700 meters) — across Catalina Island, a 22-mile-long island sitting off the coast of California. The Trail starts near the town of Avalon on Catalina’s east end and ends at Starlight Beach on the island’s west end. Though the official Trail itself is a three-day, 40.6-mile (65-kilometer) trip, at the end of the trail, hikers must backtrack 4.7 miles back to Parsons Landing after tagging Starlight Beach and then hike another 7.4 miles back to Two Harbors (the next day) using a separate coastal road to board a ferry to return to the mainland. In addition, starting by walking to the trailhead from Avalon adds an additional one or two miles to the trip, depending on the route taken.
  • GETTING TO CATALINA: The Catalina Express, the ferry to Catalina Island, leaves daily from San Pedro, Long Beach, and Dana Point (for San Diego dwellers) to Avalon and Two Harbors, the two towns on Catalina Island. Reservations can be made at catalinaexpress.com. Round trip tickets cost an obscene $74.50, proving that a world with a ferry monopoly is a bad world indeed. The easiest way to use the Catalina Express for this trip is to book a ferry from San Pedro to Avalon to start the hike and then book a ferry returning from Two Harbors to San Pedro on the morning at the end of your trip. Ferries leaving Two Harbors only go to San Pedro, so if you arrive in Avalon by taking a ferry from Long Beach or Dana Point, you may need to take a taxi/Uber to retrieve your car.
  • CAMPSITES: Campsite reservations should be made in advance at reserveamerica.com for Black Jack Campground for the first night, Two Harbors Campground for the second night, and Parsons Landing for the third night. Note that the Catalina Conservancy charges an expensive $17 per person per campsite plus an additional $9.25 per reservation, resulting in a total of $43.25 per campsite per couple. These prices may make hikers think twice about going to hike on an island owned by a private land trust.
  • LOGISTICS: Though we carried the food we needed for almost every meal on this trip to save money, it’s possible to carry less food by eating breakfast at an Avalon restaurant at the beginning of the first day, breakfast at the Airport in the Sky restaurant at the beginning of the second day, dinner at the Two Harbors restaurant or general store at the end of the second day, and breakfast in Two Harbors at the beginning of the third day. Spigots provide water at Black Jack Campground and Two Harbors Campground, but no water is available while hiking during the day. Hikers must pickup their hiking permit and campsite reservations for Black Jack and Two Harbors at the Atwater Hotel (24 hours per day) in Avalon before leaving for the trip. Maps are available from the Catalina Conservancy in Avalon, but note that the office doesn't open until 8:30 AM. Hikers must check in at the Visitor’s Center in Two Harbors to pickup their Parsons Landing campsite reservations and locker access. For an extra $20, hikers can pay for access to a locker at Parsons Landing with firewood and 2.5 gallons of water, which most will want to do to avoid having to carry two days of water to Parsons Landing. For those trying to hike with the least weight possible, Catalina Backcountry will transfer a group’s backpacks between campsites during the hike for an wallet-busting $350.
  • ROUTE: Here is the route and schedule that we followed:
    • DAY 1: Avalon to Black Jack Campground (16 mi, 4004 ft gain, 10 hours)
    • DAY 2: Black Jack to Two Harbors Campground (14 mi, 3000 ft gain, 14 hours)
    • DAY 3: Two Harbors to Parsons Landing (7.7 mi, 2400 ft gain, 6 hours) to Starlight Beach and back (9.4 mi, 2600 ft gain, 6 hours) (total: 17.1 mi, 5000 ft gain, 12 hours)
    • DAY 4: Parsons Landing to Two Harbors via the coastal road (7.4 mi, 480 ft gain, 3 hours)
    Because this trip is so physically challenging, hikers should strongly consider taking five days to complete this hike by splitting the third day into two days and spending an extra night at Parsons Landing. View our route and download the Without Baggage Trans-Catalina Trail GPS track in GPX or KML format.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Waking sleeping bison, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/trans-catalina/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/wonderland-of-rocks/ Mon, 01 Aug 2016 00:00:00 PST

  Wonderland of Rocks

  Hiking over massive granite monoliths in Joshua Tree National Park's most notorious backcountry.

  First, watch my Wonderland of Rocks mini-movie to see what it's like to traverse Joshua Tree's difficult terrain, and then read more about our Joshua Tree backpacking trips below.

  JOSHUA TREE NATIONAL PARK, California — Joshua Tree National Park is deceptive. The Park’s sparse vegetation, expansive desert flats, and manageable mountain ranges invite what looks to be easy backcountry hiking. Believe me, I know: in 2007, I got lost with my friends searching for Aqua Peak in the Coxcomb Mountains, and, in 2010, the sun set while my friends and I were climbing up a rocky canyon still searching for the last of eight Park oases.

  So, when my brother came to visit me in Los Angeles In October 2015, we decided to try to change my Joshua Tree legacy by taking a weekend hike through the Wonderland of Rocks, a 12-square-mile maze of massive, granite rock formations in northern Joshua Tree. Because there are no trails through the Wonderland — with the notable exception of a short trail to Willow Hole from the Park road — I plotted a backcountry hike, using topo maps, that would take us past Willow Hole, up to the top of Queen Mountain from the north, and then down the mountain’s west side, looping back to the trailhead.

  Even with our extensive backcountry experience, the short, two-day backpack was a surprising challenge. I planned for us to make it at least to the top of Queen Mountain on our first day, but route-finding after Willow Hole quickly became difficult, requiring us to walk over and around miles of enormous granite monoliths. After eight tiring miles, we decided to call it quits for the day. In the morning, the hike up the mountain was so challenging that it took us over four hours to complete the four-mile, 1,800-foot vertical ascent to the peak — but we made it. But, as we began descending the mountain, we quickly realized that the most challenging section of our trip was yet to come. We climbed down via a particularly (and unnecessarily difficult) route, and the difficult boulder scramble slowed us to a speed of nearly a half-mile per hour. For awhile, we were trapped between two high ridges, unable to find our way off the slope until we found a viable route. It took took us over three hours to descend the first two miles and 1,150 vertical feet. Once we reached flat ground, we powered through the remaining seven miles back to the car in two hours, arriving only one hour after sunset. It was a grueling 21-mile adventure, but I was thrilled that we had managed a successful Joshua Tree adventure.

  Emboldened by the trip with my brother, five weeks later, I gather four of my friends — Whitney, an architectural engineer from a small town in Texas; Samantha, an actress from Austin; Rachel, a television-industry assistant from Kansas; and Jack, an American Red Cross volunteer from Massachusetts — and bring them to the entrance of Rattlesnake Canyon, at the edge of the Wonderland of Rocks. This time, I have planned a new, two-day, 18-mile, one-way route across Joshua Tree, following Rattlesnake Canyon to Willow Hole (a route called the “Wonderland Connection”), and then continuing on across the Park toward Ryan Mountain and Juniper Flats. But, the group seems nervous.

  “How do you avoid being bitten by a rattlesnake?” Jack asks. “Do you hear the rattle? Is that all you do?”

  “Don’t put your hand in crevices,” Whitney guesses.

  “Aw, that’s my favorite thing to do when I’m hiking,” Jack says.

  The first hour in Rattlesnake Canyon isn’t difficult, but as we move deeper into the Wonderland, route-finding through the maze of massive boulders quickly becomes nearly impossible. We’re traveling even slower than was with my brother. Since, this time, we’re not carrying tents or sleeping bags, I’m worried that we’re not going to make it out of the Wonderland to Willow Hole — where an easy trail leads to our campsite — by night. We delay our lunch, hoping to give us a bit of extra time before sunset. Adding an extra challenge, Samantha has the shortest legs of the group, and she has trouble doing some of the climbs and jumps required to navigate past some of the biggest rocks. In a particularly nerve-wracking moment, on the way to the top of a ridge with a 40-foot drop below, she balances across a loose log, and then shimmies up between two boulders with Whitney’s help, managing to defeat one of the most difficult boulder problems of the trip.

  Despite our difficulties, with only 20 minutes before sunset, we arrive, starving, at Willow Hole, where we have a jubilant lunch celebration. While walking in the dark on the way to our campsite, we spot a a bright, spherical, white light streaked with a bright, blue line in the black sky above the desert.

  “I have no idea what to explain that with,” says Whitney, staring at the light.

  “Yeah, what IS that!?” asks Rachel.

  “It’s our galactic overlords, and they’re coming back,” Jack explains.

  But, when we wake up in the morning, none of us have been abducted by aliens. The five of us pack up our gear and we head toward the summit of Ryan Mountain, traversing the nine remaining miles of easy walking through alien Joshua tree forests. When we reach the top of Ryan Mountain, I’m feel happy and relaxed. It feels like Joshua Tree and I are no longer mortal enemies and can co-exist peacefully, waiting together for the return of our galactic overlords.

  Eventually, we learned from news reports that the UFO we saw in Joshua Tree that night was a nearby military missile test.

  How to Hike Joshua Tree's Wonderland of Rocks

  • OVERVIEW: The Wonderland of Rocks is a 12-square-mile maze of massive, granite rock formations in northern Joshua Tree National Park. Most of the Wonderland is trail-less backcountry, and even the few trails (the Willow Hole Trail and the Wonderland Wash Trail) are mostly unmarked marked and can be hard to follow.
  • DIRECTIONS: Joshua Tree National Park is a 2.5-hour drive from Los Angeles. From Los Angeles, take I-10 East to CA-62 North (Twentynine Palms Highway). To get to the Willow Hole/west end of Boy Scout Trail, turn right on Park Boulevard/Quail Springs Road (the first park entrance); the backcountry board/parking lot is on the left side after about 10.5 miles. To start at Rattlesnake Canyon for the Wonderland Connection hike, located near the eastern end of the Boy Scout Trail) turn right onto Indian Cove Road from CA-62; the backcountry board/parking for the trailhead is on right left side after 1.5 miles.
  • DANGERS: Without excellent outdoor navigation skills and a GPS device, it is very easy to get lost in the Wonderland. In addition, most of the off-trail hiking in this area is rugged, requiring hours of climbing over and around truck-sized boulders and route-finding between towering granite ridges. Only experienced hikers should attempt navigating off-trail here. Do not hike in this area without a map and compass and/or GPS device. Remember, no water is available in Joshua Tree. Hikers must carry all of the water they'll need for the entire trip or they must cache water in advance.
  • LOGISTICS: Cars can be parked at the Park's designated backcountry boards, and cars can be cached at backcountry boards at at the end of hikes if you’re planning a one-way traverse (like Rattlesnake Canyon to Ryan Mountain to Juniper Flats).
  • TWO-DAY WONDERLAND OF ROCKS AND QUEEN MOUNTAIN LOOP ROUTE: My brother and I completed a two-day, 21-mile, looped backpacking trip through the Wonderland of Rocks by starting at the Willow Hole Trailhead (the west end of Boy Scout Trail) and proceeding to Willow Hole, the top of the Queen Mountain, down to Queen Valley Road, and back to the trailhead. View our route and download the Without Baggage Joshua Tree’s Rattlesnake to Ryan Mountain GPS track in GPX or KML format. Note: We descended Queen Mountain via an unnecessarily long and difficult route. While we succeeded, the route is quite difficult and we don’t recommend it. Instead, try the mapped separate descent track that heads due south from the peak.
  • TWO-DAY RATTLESNAKE CANYON AND RYAN MOUNTAIN ONE-WAY ROUTE: A few weeks later, my friends and I completed a two-day, 18-mile, one-way backpacking trip through the Wonderland of Rocks by starting at Rattlesnake Canyon, hiking to Willow Hole, and then proceeding across the flats to the top of Ryan Mountain. View our route and download the Without Baggage Joshua Tree’s Rattlesnake to Ryan Mountain GPS track in GPX or KML format.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Wonderland of Rocks, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/wonderland-of-rocks/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/photographs/joshua-tree-wonderland-of-rocks/ Sun, 31 Jul 2016 00:00:00 PST

  New Without Baggage photographs: Two backpacking trips through Joshua Tree’s infamous rock maze.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This photograph collection, Wonderland of Rocks, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/photographs/joshua-tree-wonderland-of-rocks/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/essays/unbreaking-my-leg/ Mon, 18 Jul 2016 00:00:00 PST

  Unbreaking my leg

  Attempting Tomales Bay kayaking and Kings Canyon backpacking trips while recovering from a broken leg.

  In March 2016, I broke my leg after hiking and paddling 600 kilometers down the length of New Zealand's South Island. First, watch the mini-movie above about how I dealt with breaking my leg, and then read more about my journey below. You can also start with the first of six essays about New Zealand for the whole story.

  TOMALES BAY and KINGS CANYON NATIONAL PARK, California — “You’re American?” my New Zealand helicopter pilot asks. “Just promise me you’re not going to vote for Donald Trump, and I’ll happily fly you to the hospital.”

  I try to force out the best laugh I can muster, despite the excruciating pain I’m feeling. Though breaking my leg in the middle of my epic, 1,300-kilometer hiking and paddling trip across New Zealand’s South Island has been one of the most dramatic events of my life, it’s clear that, for my paramedic and helicopter pilot, pulling up an injured an American hiker with a winch and shuttling him to a hospital is a typical day at work.

  “I promise,” I say. “I won’t vote for him, and I don’t think any thoughtful people will.”

  “To the hospital then,” he says. “We consider the election an American IQ test.”

  At New Zealand’s Greymouth hospital, the doctor informs me that my fall from a steep river embankment resulted in a fibula spiral fracture. She quickly decides to send me by ambulance to an orthopedic surgeon in Christchurch, who tells me that she’ll need to insert screws and a titanium plate into my leg to make sure my bone heals correctly. I’m relieved when I’m told that New Zealand’s accident insurance will completely cover the cost of my rescue and treatment — a taste of governmental compassion that would surely shock and offend Donald Trump.

  The doctor tells me that I won’t be able to leave New Zealand for two weeks after my surgery, erasing my fears about never being able to meet up again with the friends I met here. My kiwi friends Brittany and Andy — dubbed my “logistics team” due to the considerable help they gave me to keep my backpacking trip running smoothly — visit me in the hospital immediately after my surgery, carrying bags of my favorite gummy bears (Haribo Sweet & Sour, which are not sold in the United States). The three of us spend time catching up and hanging out with my hospital roommate, a cranky but loveable 70-year-old plumber named Jim, who manages to fight with every member of the hospital staff who tries to help him. A few days later, I leave the hospital’s horrible food behind and move into Christchurch’s excellent The George hotel, where I sleep constantly and survive on hotel room service. Some of my friends tell me that they’re somewhat jealous that I’m living out their secret fantasy of living in a hotel room, binge watching television shows while getting breakfast, and lunch, and dinner, delivered in bed. Of course, I quickly point out that they’re wrong to fantasize: the novelty of my experience wears off in a couple days and immediately gives way to utter misery about being trapped in a hotel room in one of the world’s most beautiful wilderness-adventure destinations.

  I get some reprieve from my frustration when German couple Carsten and Lena, who I met while hiking the notorious Richmond Range, visit Christchurch to take me to dinner. I’m sad to hear that they’ve temporarily stopped walking the Te Araroa after a knee injury has prevented Carsten from hiking. A few days later, Charlotte, the French wilderness guide I met while hiking in Arthur’s Pass National Park, surprises me by showing up in Christchurch. I’ve been dying to feast upon some good ramen since starting hiking in New Zealand, so, the two of us go out to dinner at a nearby Japanese joint called Samurai Bowl. Charlotte has never eaten ramen — apparently, ramen and chopsticks lessons aren’t common in the French Alps — but, after some prodding, she immediately becomes a fan (of ramen, not chopsticks).

  “What’s going to happen to all of your food drops?” Charlotte asks, as we eat. Before starting my bid to traverse the South Island, I sent eight boxes, filled with food, to locations across the island to pick up along my route.

  “They’re all sitting in the middle of nowhere in the wilderness,” I say. “I have no way of getting them now.”

  “I could probably find them,” Charlotte says with a mischievous smile.

  “I can give you the coordinates to them if you want,” I say. “If you’re able to get any of them, they’re yours.”

  So, after Charlotte charitably pushes me in a wheelchair to New Brighton beach so I can get some fresh air and do some grocery shopping — grocery stores are surprisingly exhausting to navigate on crutches — Charlotte heads off across New Zealand on a grand scavenger hunt to find my remaining food drops.

  When my doctor finally clears me to fly back to Los Angeles, I spend most of the next two months editing a documentary film in my apartment, immobile. My friends’ foolish jealousy at me getting to work from home continues, while I slowly go crazy because I’m unable to do any hiking or even drive my (stick shift) car to my favorite cafes. Though I’m devastated that I’m sitting in my Los Angeles apartment instead of completing my route across New Zealand, Charlotte manages to warm my heart and keep my spirits high with messages from New Zealand. As the weeks go by, she continually sends me photo and video updates of her impressive New Zealand adventure to find (and eat) my obscurely-located food drops.

  “I think this is the most incredible trip I have done in New Zealand,” she tells me in a message one night after finding one of my food boxes in a remote location on the edge of a lake and then climbing to the top of a nearby mountain. “You should come back. Everybody misses you here. Even the trees, the possums, the sunbeams, and the flowers are whispering your name. And the ravines miss you a lot too.” I know that she’s right. I’ll have to return.

  After an additional surgery and nearly three months of recovery, my leg becomes strong enough to walk almost normally. When I go to film my college friend Susan’s wedding in Seattle, I have enough stamina to kayak on Lake Union and bike for a few hours on Bainbridge Island with my friend Anna. I feel even more inspired when I receive word that Carsten and Lena managed to finish their 3,000-kilometer Te Araroa hike, after they gave Carsten’s knee a couple weeks to rest. By the time July 4 weekend arrives, I’m feeling ambitious enough to head out on my yearly Independence Day kayak-camping trip. My friends — Parker, a youth pastor from Alabama; Samantha, an actress from Austin; and Whitney, an architectural engineer from Texas — and I drive to Tomales Bay in Northern California, where we strap our backpacking gear onto kayaks and paddle seven miles to a boat-in-only campsite on the Bay’s western shore. In keeping with our yearly tradition, we spend the night eating pie and watching fireworks from the beach, with a toasty campfire and hot chocolate to keep us warm.

  In the morning, after a lunch of raw oysters at the delicious and hip Hog Island Oyster Co., Samantha and Whitney head back to Los Angeles. Parker and I decide instead to take a quick tour of San Francisco before driving southeast across California to Kings Canyon National Park. I’m ready to put my newly-healed leg to a real test: a 14-mile backcountry backpacking trip to Paradise Valley.

  At first, my leg, ankle, and knee feel very sore and slightly painful, but as I become accustomed to the hiking, the creaks and aches in my leg diminish. It’s impossible to overstate the euphoria that comes with being able to tackle a strenuous hike after three months of immobility, and I realize that, not despite but because of my accident, I feel more passionate about big adventures than ever.

  Parker and I climb 1,700 feet of elevation up the seemingly boundless valley, surrounded by massive granite slabs and towering sequoia trees. When we reach the sparkling Mist Falls, I’m feeling so strong that, when we set up my camera, I’m able to swoop Parker off the ground to pose for our photo.

  My leg is officially unbroken. Soon, I’ll be ready to start planning my return to New Zealand, to complete the second half of my 1,200-kilometer New Zealand South Island traverse.

  How to Kayak-Camp Tomales Bay

  • OVERVIEW: Tomales Bay is a long narrow inlet of the Pacific Ocean in Marin County, California, that forms the eastern boundary of Point Reyes National Seashore. It’s about a 90-minute drive from San Francisco, and it’s the largest unspoiled coastal embayment on the coast of California.
  • LOGISTICS: Blue Water Kayaks rents plastic, sit-on-top kayaks to paddlers without their own gear, and rentals include paddles, flotation jackets, and dry bags. The company’s service is generally good, though I strongly recommend bringing your own kayaks if possible. As with most kayak rental companies, they don’t rent proper sit-inside sea kayaks with a rudder, and the staff treats even experienced paddlers as though they know nothing, presumably because they're accustomed to dealing with inexperienced tourists. Blue Water’s staff is also extremely overcautious about not permitting kayak rentals when wind is blowing over the Bay, so be sure get your kayaks in the morning, before noon. We lost a day of kayaking because Blue Water wouldn't let us paddle out in mild wind conditions, despite our paddling experience. Note that the company’s sit-on-top kayaks do not have cargo space inside the kayaks, though there is ample space for backpacks on top of the kayaks even with two people.
  • CAMPSITES: There are about 18 beaches on the Bay’s western edge that allow boat-in-only camping shown on the Tomales Bay State Park campsite map. However, all camping at these sites requires backcountry camping permits issued by Point Reyes National Seashore. See their backcountry camping page for more info. Note that Marshall Beach and Tomales Beach have access to a toilet, but all other beaches require campers to bring a portable toilet and pack out human waste. Be sure to look very carefully at the high tide lines on the beaches when you set up camp or you’ll find yourself underwater in the middle of the night. Keep in mind that there are two high-tide times per day, and one high tide is likely higher than the other.
  • ROUTE: On our first day, we left Marshall at around 10 AM and kayaked seven miles to a boat-in-only campsite on the west side of the bay. In the afternoon, we paddled even farther north, a 3.5-mile round trip. On our second day, we kayaked seven miles back to Marshall. For most of the trip, conditions on the bay were calm, the current wasn’t too strong, and we were able to kayak at about three milers per hour. View our route and download the Without Baggage Tomales Bay Kayak GPS track in GPX or KML format.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This essay, Unbreaking my leg, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/essays/unbreaking-my-leg/ Hank Leukarthttp://withoutbaggage.com/photographs/kings-canyon-paradise-valley/ Sat, 16 Jul 2016 00:00:00 PST

  New Without Baggage photographs: A two-day backpacking trip in Kings Canyon National Park.

  Copyright © 2000 - 2022 by Hank Leukart, All Rights Reserved. This photograph collection, Paradise Valley, originally appeared on Without Baggage. You do not have permission to reproduce this content in any other form or context.

  ]]> http://withoutbaggage.com/photographs/kings-canyon-paradise-valley/