A hike up Tiger Mountain

I learned a lot of interesting facts on my trip up Tiger Mountain. This composition attempts to highlight those interesting facts.

Interesting fact: My deodorant smells nice to women.
The adventure started without the benefit of human companionship I expected to have. Seems my companion had personal reasons, she wished not to share with me, for not going. So my first stop on this trip was at a local restaurant for a nice big breakfast. As I grabbed for the menu at the counter the waitress commented on my pleasant odor. I always secretly hoped that my choice of deodorant was aromatically pleasing to those around me, more so with the females. If her appearance didn’t look like a reject from the last 20 years of style, I might have inquired after her phone number. Regardless I’m not interested in the 40 plus age bracket… yet.

Interesting fact: You can’t always trust what you read on the Internet.
Interesting fact: River rocks are slippery
I know that information on the Internet should be taken with a grain of salt, but I hoped that the tidbit I gleaned would be of value. Using directions I found for the trail head I found on the internet ultimately helped me conclude that there was nothing resembling a trail head at the location specified. Before I reached that conclusion I attempted to infer what I thought was the most likely choice for the beginning of the trail. A creek lay before me and I crossed it so as to see if the trail showed itself on the other side. Within a short amount of time I found that while I could have strapped on my pack and forged my way through, trail blazing my own path, the established trail was missing. On my return across the creek I was reminded of the fact that round river rocks are slippery. I stepped on rocks that were above the waters surface and in my not so eloquent dance across the creek my feet slipped repeatedly. After much arm flailing and several failed attempts at keeping my feet out of the water I gave up and splashed my way across the creek in the most efficient route possible. On the other side my squishy shoes propelled me back to the truck.

Interesting fact: Bringing waterproof shoes is just as important as bringing extra socks.
On long hikes one should always bring several pairs of socks to change into. I found, however, that changing my water logged socks did little good if the shoes you are wearing are more water logged than the socks you just took off. I changed my socks anyway in a futile attempt to keep my mode of transportation happy.

In my drive to the creek, that bestowed great evil on my feet, I passed by a trail head that was clearly marked. I back tracked to that spot to start my adventure.

The Friz and I made it to the trail head sign

It was beautiful
The trail started off with little up hill effort. I was exited about the pleasant hike that was before me. My excitement soon abated as the trail soon became a grueling uphill effort. For this trip I bought an Under Armor shirt and pair of underwear. Under Armor is known for the wicking material they use to make exercise more palatable. However, the amount of perspiration that my body was putting forth seemed too much for this material. I remember thinking that if my shirt is having a tough time “wicking” my torso moisture, what was going on with my underwear? I concluded that those thoughts would make this experience much less tolerable as my squishy shoes propelled me along. I found it interesting that the designers of this trail must have been personal trainers. As soon as I thought I couldn’t possibly take any more punishment it would level out for a while, and I would take that stretch much slower to recuperate.

Interesting fact: Bringing enough water to gag a camel is not necessary.
Not only did I bring plenty of water to keep myself hydrated but there was more water on my personal body than my backpack. If I had thought to bring some water purifying tablets then I could have rung out my shirt for a water re-supply. I ended up stopping off the trail to recuperate. Plus there was some hikers behind me I wanted to let pass.

So The Friz and I stopped for a break. Trail mix was consumed and more water to perspire out was consumed. Once my breath returned I snapped a picture and continued on. As it turned out this trail ended a mile or so later. It was also much easier going once I reached the end.

The sign said Poo-Poo point. I could only conclude that a notable pile of crap was 4.9 miles to my right. Intrigued, and not wanting to return to the highway, I decided to investigate.

The trail was more like a dirt road and I began to wonder just how big this pile of crap was that needed its own road to get to.

About a half a mile later I came across another trail sign and gave up my pile of crap curiosity in favor of my original goal in making it to the top of Tiger Mountain.

Twenty minutes on this trail I encountered a couple that was coming from the direction that I was going. The male of the two person group was vary tan and had a foreign accent that I was not able to place. They stopped to ask me if I had been on this trail before. I told them I had not and they said that the trail doesn’t make it to the top of the mountain but goes around it instead. I found this information rather disheartening. I wanted to give my squishing feet some sort of reason for going on.

Interesting fact: Don’t forget your teeth on your backpack.
Interesting fact: Frozen water and Binoculars equals foggy lenses.
Interesting fact: Carefully count your socks before a hike
I continued on much to the displeasure of my wet shoes and over worked shirt. After 30 more minutes I took another break. I wanted to attempt to figure out where I was in relation to the topographical map I downloaded to my iPod touch. I could see Tiger Mountain to my left, but the trail I was on appeared to circulate around a lesser sibling. I broke out my binoculars only to find that their proximity to the frozen water in my pack fogged the lenses. I assume because my shirt was over “wicked” that this was the reason it would not “wick” the moisture from the lens. My Carhartt shorts seemed to do a better job. Anyway, I was not able to determine my position on the map with two points of reference. My male reasoning said that I needed three points of reference to triangulate my position. So I settled for sitting down and grabbing a bite to eat and deplete more of my water supply for latter shirt consumption. I took the four partial teeth I have out and set them on my back pack for a respite. While my mouth took a break, I decided to use one of the three pars of socks I had brought with me for a de-squishing attempt. That’s when I learned that I had not brought three pars of socks with me, but in fact I brought two and a half. Because I had changed socks at the beginning of the trip that only left one par. I decided that the squishing would continue as my shoes were still rather wet.

I packed up my stuff and headed out hoping to find the top of Tiger Mountain that the couple could not. 200 yards or so after departing I realized that I had forgotten my teeth on the top of my pack. I pulled the pack off hoping to find them dangling from the webbing. This was not the case. I returned to my rest stop while keeping my eyes to the ground in case they fell off at some point. Fortunately I did find them at my resting spot, picked them off the ground and returned them, begrudgingly, to my facial cavity.

As I squished my way along, the personal trainer of a trail began demanding more of my mental fortitude. It even went so far as to show me the possibilities as a couple of older women ran by me. It had the opposite effect my personal trainer expected as the thought of running up this hill did not occur to me at all. The Friz, however, offered as much encouragement as possible.

I huffed and puffed up the mountain secure in the knowledge that the peek, elusive to the first couple I had met, was near. It took me four hours to make it to this summit. My feet were happy to have the time to air out and even chuckled to them selves as I slapped the mosquitoes that were attracted to the sweet smell. Seems waitresses are not the only things that are attracted to my deodorant.

The trail continued on and I thought about accommodating it. As I sat there thinking about continuing on, but several factors changed my mind. The trail seemed to go in the opposite direction of my truck. If it took me four hours to reach this point then it should take me a little less to backtrack going down hill, longer if I continue along the trail. Currently it was 3:00pm and unless I ran the rest of the trail, which was not an option, I might be looking at darkness before I reached my truck. I finished my trail mix and airing out my feet. Put on fresh pair of socks and backtracked.

Interesting fact: Going down hill sucks too.
There was a fork in the trail I had passed going up the hill, that on closer inspection, one of those ways seemed to make a quicker journey down the mountain. Even though my feet were happy with being dry other parts of my body began to complain in large quantities about the downhill grade I had chosen. I began to weigh the negative effects that downhill verses uphill had on my already tired body. The only plus was that it took a much shorter amount of time to descend the mountain. By body maintained that it would have given up that plus for a less demanding route, even if it was longer.

I got to the gravel road and elected to stay on it as I knew that it would take me to my truck. I reasoned that the steady grade, firm ground, and shorter distance would be easier. That reasoning was in debate after miles of uphill began to take its toll on me once again. At least on a trail you get some level ground once in a while, not so with a road. I did finally make it back to the truck and it only took me three hours, from the Tiger Mountain summit, to traverse.

The seven hour adventure continues its impact as I write this, a day latter. My body is still complaining, but my feet are happy to be dry. All in all it was a wonderful adventure, and I enjoyed the adversity that was presented to me. I will be doing it again.