The Fake Facade: Tribes and Tribulations.

While some people like to chew the miles up, I prefer to mull over them a while. That is not to say I don't get the miles behind me, you spend so much of your day doing it that you really get into the art of walking. For starters hiking long distances with a pack you have to walk to avoid injury. This means making sure you're not pounding along sending stress through your body. I wear my camera around my neck and this is a great indicator to how I'm walking. If the camera is bouncing around I know I'm doing it wrong. On the downhills you have to sink your hips and let your muscles do the work to avoid stressing your knees. Then there is the footwork, avoiding rocks and roots or using them to sail over crappy sections. My trekking poles also factor in. From basic Nordic style walking to just digging them in using the whole body to get up steep hills. As I've gone along I've been refining my techniques. On gradual uphills I've developed a technique of applying the force through the poles in a nonlinear way. So rather than just pushing straight back on the pole, I wave my hand left and right slightly to give me more time pushing back. Then on the downhills, when your pack is lighter you can vault over obstacles and keep moving fast. But it isn't all scoring goals. Sometimes you play trekking pole pinball. That's when the pole bounces off a rock, you kick it back into the rock and the pole ricochets back into your foot again or worse into your knee. Then there is the dangerous game of hiking on the side of a mountain with a treacherous drop off the side and you try to swat one of those tiny yet infinitely annoying sweat flies mid stride. The trekking poles take on a life of their own, swinging madly off your wrist and often ending up jammed between my legs and (so far) almost sending me tumbling off the precipitous edge!

Hiking at altitude has it's own charm. Before you are acclimatised every step above 10,000 feet and you seem to age a month. By the time you are at around 12-13,000ft you are moving slowly and gasping for breath like a failing geriatric.

Gramps trying to hitch into Bishop from Independence... People say Indepenence is the place to be on July 4. This wasn't July 4 and we couldn't get out of there fast enough!

We arrive in Bishop thanks to Cathy the regional bus driver.

Stayin' Alive.

Lightning. Oh! This picture reminds me of the U-Haul incident... Twenty odd hikers decide to rent a U-Haul van, jump in the back and drive to San Fransisco to join the celebrations for the Federal decision to legalise gay marriage. Why jump on a sinking ship I say but that's beside the point. So the van gets pulled over by the police. Not knowing what to do with them, the coppers are about to let them go with a warning when the California Highway Patrol turn up to see what the fuss is about. These guys weren't so leinient and after (another) lecture they all got slapped with tickets. Except for the international people who they had no idea what to do with. I heard this story over eleven days through different hikers and you might be wondering, like I did, what happened to them stranded there on the highway? The police had to let them go.

Bishop.

Shake and Staying Alive heading to the saloon for Jim's farewell.

All in all Jim's farewell was a blast!

The selfie with Sara, I don't need to tell you how gorgeous she is, you can see it in the picture and it isn't just because she is next to the crusty Aussie!

Hiker trash.

Will (Wetpatch). An Aussie from Toowoomba (and a good bloke!) surrounded by drunk Poms. Poor bugger.

Shake giving Jim a farewell hug!

Clark Kent tying Staying Alive's shoes for him as we prepare to head back over Kearsarge Pass.

And finally they catch up! Machoman Randy Savage and The Queen of Sheba.

Back at altitude as determined by Clark Kent's inflated Cheetos pack.

Barry, very helpful Park Ranger with a piece. For the bears I presumed but then thought again.

This is Alex. He's 18 and from ? He decided to go for a hike and grabbed his Granddad's pack, the old sleeping bag from the cupboard, half a kilo of ground coffee, some books on the trail... Etc etc.

He definitely needed a shakedown. So right there on Mather Pass we repacked his bag with him. He camped with us that night, got up the next morning and we never saw him again.

My pack could do with a shakedown compared to Shake's

Back out in the wild and things started to get primal...

We crossed the 800 mark...

Gramps.

Staying Alive and Shake proudly in front of their tarp.

Oh, did I say things got primal!?

Shake decided to use the ash from the fire as some sort of bug/sun protection. It didn't do anything to deter the bugs...

Not one to be left out, Staying Alive dons his war paint.

Pretty soon everyone was in on it!

Although he swam in many lakes, it took over a week and some hot springs to cure him of the ash syndrome.

Moondog.

Shake kindly offered to swap packs up the next pass. With ten days of food I could really feel the weight. Shake's pack was considerably lighter.

Of course I remembered to complete the ensemble and gave Shake my camera to carry too.

Some lovely switchbacks. Well, depending on which way you're coming!

This is our 'bearicade'.

This is nine days of food that all has to go into my bear vault canister.

This trail crew passes and the lead guy just said 'you look like you've been walking a while.'

When this pedestrian crew approached the leader chanted 'hiker!' Which was passed down the line while they passed.

Saint Nick.

Clark Kent and Shake on Muir Pass.

The John Muir hut was built in 1930. It is an amazing stone structure.

Clark Kent.

Gramps.

Shake.

Staying Alive.

Takeout and Sam in the doorway of the John Muir hut on Muir Pass.

If you don't get the reference... Get off my blog! :-)

The trail offers challenging descents that in time become a game. Do you take the rocks or the roots? If you get your footwook and timing right you can score power ups and fly through the section.