Midnight, The Night Before -

Tomorrow morning, we are hiking to a peak near the Potosi Mine. This will be just an ordinary weekend hike to Mark. It will be a test run for me.

Now, fully geared, I want to get a feel for some of the action of my future adventures. I will be hiking fully loaded. I will set up camp at the end of our trail, to help get a feel for setting up the tent on rocks, with wind, maybe even a bit of rain, if the storm we’ve had all week continues. I’m even starting the adventure a little early, “camping” in the empty room his daughter used to occupy before she grew up and moved out. The room lacks the luxuries of bedding and light, so I am sleeping in my bag and using my travel pillow. I am writing this in the pocket-sized notepad I bought for blogging my journey while I’m in the wild, by the light of the mini-lantern that will be my only light source when I’m alone in the mountains. I could easily walk into the living room and write there, but using this lantern invites the illusion that I’m already on the trail. The only thing missing is the tight confines of my 3 foot high dome tent.

We are scheduled to be up at 7am and out at 7:15. I wake up slow, so I set my alarm for 6:30.

All my clothes are laid out, and I have the gear set up for a quick packing job before we head to the hills. This almost feels like being part of a real expedition team, needing to be on the trail to hit out next point before the first snow. It might be a bit childish, but it’s exciting. At 36 years old, it’s nice to find something that lets me feel giddy about something new. It’s after 12:30, now, and I don’t operate well on less than 8 solid hours. Time to crash.

Lights out.

6:30 am - Day of the trip

The big day has arrived. I’m up! I’m dressed!! I’m packed!!!

I want to go back to bed.

I have been getting up around 10 am all week, and didn’t get to sleep till after 12:30, and haven’t slept well. I never do with an alarm waiting over my shoulder. All night I keep waking to see if the alarm will go off soon. So after 6 hours of fitful sleep, I don’t feel rested. I’m looking forward to being back from the trip and going to bed. We don’t hit the road until almost 8. Apparently, I was mistaken about our launch time. I’m starting to wake up a little more, and the thoughts of drifting back to sleep are starting to wane.

8am - On the road

We load up the dogs into the truck, and strap the giant backpack in the back. Off we go. We stop a few blocks from Mark’s apartment, at 7-11. Coffee. Donuts. A slab of beef jerky to chew on while I’m on the trail...now I’m happy. The coffee wakes me up. The donuts fill my blood with their glorious sugar and empty calories. This is what life is all about. Feeding my body’s internal incinerator garbage to burn. That’s why they invented hiking in the first place. So we can eat crap. Life is good. Roll down the windows and enjoy the filthy Las Vegas air! We are on our way!

A few miles in, we stop to meet up with Mark’s friend Jeremy. So nobody has to ride with the dogs, we drive in separate cars up to the mountains, to a point where Jeremy’s car cannot take the rough terrain, and he parks. He’s going to jump into the back of the truck for our ride up to the spring, but I jump in the back, and suck in the glorious mountain air. I’ve lived here 13 years, and still have a hard time believing there are pine trees, and fresh air anywhere near Las Vegas. This is heaven.

8:45 - At the spring

We’ve driven as far as we’re going to. We are at Potosi Spring. A little bubbling pool of water, not big enough to dunk your head in, that gets an enormous title on the topographical map. I thought we could go scuba diving in it. You can barely fit your canteen. It is interesting to see the growth around the spring, and the amount of water that runs out of it. There’s a long stream running into the valley, and all around the little pool it’s lush and green with wild grasses. An oasis in the desert.

We hoist backpacks on, Mark and Jeremy prepare their GPS units. I’m old school. No high tech satellite navigation for me. A map and a compass for me. Luckily, Mark and Jeremy have their GPS units pointing the way.

I don’t know how to read the map.