Backpacking Joshua Tree National Park, with photos

We planned a short trip for Ethan's last spring break as a high school student. Just the two of us, in the desert somewhere. Never been to Joshua Tree, so a few google searches and we had our plan.

The Original Plan
We started in Vegas, visiting my mom over Easter. So we planned to drive the four hours from Las Vegas to Joshua Tree and hike in that same day. We could do 7.5 miles the first day to Upper Covington Flats, right? Then another 10 miles on Day Two to Ryan Campground, then 10 miles back to Covington, finishing with the 7.5 miles out on Day Four with the eight hour drive home to Walnut Creek the same day.

Then I read that the trail has no water and, in the desert, you should plan to carry a gallon per person per day, just for hydration. More if you want to cook, brush your teeth, or anything else.

You know how much a gallon of water weighs? A little over eight pounds. I thought about what it might be like adding 30 pounds of water to our packs.

The Revised Plan
I cut a day off the trip. We would hike in the 7.5 miles to Covington Flats, then hike to Quail Peak and back to the same campsite, then out the third day. Less water to carry, especially if we left Day Three's water in the car to drink when we get out. And only 25 or so miles over three days. We'd done 30 miles in three days last summer, so seemed achievable, if a little ambitious.

Unfortunately, we left Vegas two hours late so we arrived at Black Rock Campground at 4 p.m. instead of 2 p.m. Still, we had done a 3 mph pace before, so we geared up and headed out with 40+ pound packs.

Ethan with his pack, at the trailhead.

(Note to self: A 40 pound pack feels WAY heavier than a 28 pound pack. WAY heavier.)

The Actual Event
I should back up. We planned on hiking the California Riding and Hiking Trail, but we couldn't through-hike because we had only one car and just the two of us. We acquired our topo map at REI in Vegas, but we knew very little beyond the couple of web sites I'd seen and this map.

Covington Flats was our original destination for Day One.

What I didn't realize was that the first 6 miles of this trail is uphill and also like walking on a very soft beach... deep, soft sand apparently groomed for horseback riding tours. So keeping a pace of three miles per hour with 40+ pound packs uphill in the sand is kind of tough. If you didn't know it.

We got about this far

We got a little farther than this on Day One.

and started feeling pretty exhausted. Additionally, the wind was whipping around and it was getting toward twilight. So we decided not to try to get all the way to 7.5 miles, and we started looking for a place to spend the night. We tried a ravine off to the right of the trail about 4.5 miles in, and it turned out to give us a perfect site, slightly sheltered from the wind and not in a wash, just over 500 feet from the trail (i.e. a legal site). So we set up there. Short of our destination, but early enough to feel confident and prep for bed while it was still light.

Our tents, with our Nepali peace flags strung between.
Yes, they really are from Nepal.

Chilly morning selfie before breaking down camp.

Turns out that was a good thing because even though the forecasts called for the temperature to drop into the mid 40s (which we were prepared for), we actually enjoyed biblical winds and temperatures below freezing. This last part we calculated by observing the frost on our tents and the ice in our water bottles the next morning.

Before getting on the trail, we bushwhacked to the top of a peak next to our ravine to check out the views and see if we could get a cell signal (we couldn't). But the views were worth it.

This really was a view from our little peak

And we could see some random snowcapped mountain in the distance.

I really was there. These aren't just stock photos.

Hey, there's the trail, way down there, heading uphill. Wait. More uphill? Damn.

Our Revised Plan (see above) was to try to make it to the peak of Quail Mountain and back to a campsite in one day. After consulting the map and doing a quick calculation, we realized there was no way in hell we'd make it that far. So we revised the plan again, deciding to get to Covington Flats and see how we felt.

The trail kept going uphill for like a bajillion miles. And I swear the rangers put the mile markers at like 8,000 feet apart instead of the standard 5,280. But we enjoyed more desert scenery, including lots of wildflowers, over the next three miles to Covington Flats. There, we decided we'd go on to mile marker 9 and turn around, coming back for lunch. So instead of going 18 miles into the park and up to the peak, we were going 9 miles in. Fine. Discretion is the better part of valor, right?

A log on which we snacked, about 7 miles in.

Ethan hiking. Typical of the trail from mile 6 to mile 8.

A different random snow-capped mountain in the distance, framed by Joshua trees.

We made it to the Covington Flats trailhead! Someone was parked here, and someone left some water jugs free for the taking. We did not need it because we had plenty, but it was nice to see the generosity of strangers here.

Wildflowers!

Hard to see, but the trail is framed by wildflowers here.

Typical of the trail in the Covington Flats area.

Turns out we chose our route well because mile marker 9 is just at the beginning of a long, steep descent into a valley. We assessed the hill and our enthusiasm level, and we found ourselves very enthusiastic about not coming back up that hill, so we decided not to go down it. Instead, we turned around and headed back to Covington Flats trailhead where we paused for a half hour for lunch. It was warm when the wind stopped, which happened for a few seconds. Otherwise, it was kind of chilly. But still nice to sit on the rocks and rest.

Around mile 7 you cross an access road,
so there's a trail marker.

We began walking back toward our ravine where we had camped the night before, assuming we'd set up camp there again. When we got there, though, it was still only 2:30 p.m. and we were feeling very good after a hearty lunch and some preventative Advil. We'd made good time (nearly 3 mph) back from Covington Flats to the 4.5 mile mark, so I suggested we consider hiking all the way out and camping at Black Rock car camp instead of suffering through another freezing night in the wilderness. (I'd stop short of calling it "miserable," but it wasn't exactly enjoyable.)

So we double-timed it down to the car.

Interesting thing, hiking. The downhill seemed much less steep than the uphill had seemed the night before. And the sand was no less difficult to walk through downhill than uphill. So keeping a 2.5 mph pace was still a challenge. But we did it, after already doing 9 miles earlier.

We made it to Black Rock Campground about 4:30 p.m, only to find that all the campsites were reserved for the night. Maria, back at the mother ship, did some Trip Advisor searching to find a cheap rate at the Country Inn. A phone call and a short drive later, we were enjoying hot showers and comfy beds and indoor heating and no wind. Which I really appreciate tonight as I type this post since the drive home the next day was nine hours long. Maybe I'm a wimp, but I'd rather do that drive after a night in a comfy motel than after a freezing night on the ground and a five mile hike.

Plus, the motel had complimentary breakfast.

I've had better, but the coffee was pretty good.

Overall, I'd say it was a terrific trip. It would be a beautiful through-hike if you cache water at the trailheads. We didn't see a single other person after the first mile, and the land was really very pretty. If you plan on doing this hike, you'll be tempted to skimp on the water. You'll say to yourself, "A gallon per person per day? That's over-planning. I bet I can get away with three liters. Probably even two!" Don't do it. By lunch on the second day (less than 24 hours into our trip), I'd already drunk four liters, and I don't tend to drink a lot when I'm hiking. AND the temperature never got over the mid 60s. So don't skimp on the water. Seriously.

I also wish we'd arrived a few hours earlier and were able to hike farther in on the first day, and that we'd been prepared for colder nights. I am a little disappointed we didn't camp both nights, but I do think we pushed ourselves. A 14 mile day with full packs is nothing to sneeze at for people who do one trip a year, right?

Finally: No backcountry travelogue is complete without a Blair Witch selfie:

"I had grand plans."

That was a primary point in my sister's keynote speech at Boston's ALS walk this past Saturday. Cathy was diagnosed with ALS only a few months ago, just weeks after retiring from a demanding and very successful career. The last time we saw each other, about two months before the diagnosis, she told me she had grand plans for the next chapters in her life; although she was still figuring out the specifics, "helping others" figured prominently in her ideas. Those plans have changed.

The last time I saw my sister, I saw no hint of ALS. Nothing to make me think anything like this could be coming. We talked about her pending knee surgery and retirement, our kids' college tours, plans for a long future filled with activity. Those plans have changed.

This past weekend I joined scores of others to support Cathy in the ALS Walk in Boston (we flew in from California Thursday night). Family I hadn't seen in decades were there. The morning was glorious, clear and warm after a week of terrible wind and torrential rain (so I'm told), and the location was beautiful. Cathy was honored with the keynote speech in part because in the couple of months since she was diagnosed, she assembled a huge team for the walk and became the Boston walk's top fundraiser.

My family and I also participated the previous weekend in our local walk in Northern California, which was much smaller but eye-opening. I've walked in several fundraisers for ACS, LLS, AHA, etc., but the ALS walk had a different feel. It wasn't until I started writing this blog post that I realized what the subtle difference was. Other walks are all organized around the survivors. This walk was entirely about finding a cure.

It's strange and difficult to return to normal everyday life after two weekends like the past two. I know my sister and thousands of others who are diagnosed with ALS every year don't even have that option, so I'm going to try to take advantage of the time I have. I don't know exactly what that means yet. There are things I want to achieve. There are places I want to see. There are people I love who I want to spend more time with. And I don't want to be so busy that I miss the countless moments of beauty around me all the time.

Photos from the two walks are posted below.

WALNUT CREEK, CA - October 19, 2014

With some Wells Fargo colleagues

Pretty long stream of people along the canal trail.

BOSTON, MA - October 25, 2014

The setting near Dorchester Heights along Old Harbor was gorgeous.

Boston financial district in the background.

Sis & me

Giving the keynote address to 1,500 walkers

The paparazzi taking family photos

How I thought I got into UC Berkeley but later found I was wrong

More than a quarter century ago, when call waiting was still cutting edge technology, I was a senior in high school on the east coast, and I wanted to go to college far away. I visited my high school guidance counselor and told her I was thinking of computer science.

"Great field," she said. "What colleges are you thinking of?"

"Stanford or UC Berkeley," I said.

"Ha ha ha HA HA HA HAHAHA >snort<," she said.

At this point in the story, you expect me to say I took that as a challenge. That I dedicated myself to proving her wrong. But I'm not a liar, so I won't say that. I basically just went back to whatever I was doing. (But I also picked a sure thing as my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency school. On the off chance she actually was good at her job.)

I applied early admissions to UC Berkeley. I boasted pretty good credentials--over a 4.0 at a good high school, some respectable if not astonishing SAT scores, participation several clubs, varsity letter in four events on the track team. And Berkeley let me in.

For years and years, because of that meeting with my guidance counselor, I thought what really got me into Cal was the essay I submitted with my application.

That is, until I stumbled across it in a box of old papers the other day. And I read it. Now, I can't really tell you what got me in. Luck, probably. Clerical error, maybe. Or maybe they thought I'd make all the other students look good by comparison.

Whatever it was, I don't think it was the essay itself, unless they were impressed by my 24-pin dot matrix printout. They probably saw that and said, "This kid knows computers."

But you be the judge. I give you, at the risk of losing the last tiny bit of respect you might have had for me, the full text. (Typos have likely been introduced during transcription.)

Peter J. Dudley

Everyone says that high school is “the best four years of your life”. I’ve found this to be true. At least, so far it is.

It is interesting that I should be writing this essay now, for I just saw a production of the play “Is There Life After High School?” It dealt with the problems of high school graduates and their memories of their school years.

I like to think of what I may be doing twenty years from now. I like to think that I will be successful and still handsome. I also like to think that I will still like the same things I like today.

One of the things I will always enjoy is traveling. I am among the fortunate few that travel all over the world when they are young. I not only have been around my state, but I have been to North Carolina and all over the southwestern United States. Two of my friends and I are planning to ride our bycicles across the country to California.

Not only have I explored the U.S., but I have also made one short excursion to Mexico, where I used my eight years of Spanish to speak with the other bilingual tourists. I have also been to southeastern Canada. I have also gone to England on a tour with a group of other students during April of 1983. A few years ago, I went with my family to Austria to visit my sister, who was studying at the University in Salzburg. While we were there, I was fortunate enough to ski on two European mountains.

Skiing is one of my favorite pasttimes. Although it may get expensive at times, I still like it more than any other sport. I like the thrill of speeding down a thin trail with the peril of trees all around me. This also gives me a chance to be alone with just a beautiful view and infinite space for my mind to expand.

I also like to hike into the mountains of New Hampshire. I have done this with my brother and my father. Each time we camped overnight under the stars. It is really beautiful country. Besides skiing and hiking, I enjoy other sports.

I have been on the track team for four years. I don’t run much, however—I pole vault. I also like to do the triple jump. I prefer the
technique sports, because they offer me a greater challenge. I like to be challenged. Competition is very important in my life.

I like to compete for things. Competition helps me to try harder at nearly everything. However, some people carry competitiveness to an extreme. All they want to do is win, win, win.

This is not a good attitude. In most things, I compete for fun. If competition gets hostile or causes arguments, I usually will be the first to give in a little. However, in some things which I deem important, I will not slack off in my attempts to win. When I do, it is out of courtesy.

Courtesy is also very important to me. Everyone who knows me knows that I am a “gentleman”. Some extreme people people might call this sexist, but I believe that men should be courteous to ladies. This includes holding doors, taking coats, and other actions of chivalry.

Some people are offended by this conduct, but more people enjoy it. It is a good way to meet people or make new friends.

Making new friends seems to be the theme of my senior year. I have become much more social, even with people I rarely talked to before this year. I also have joined many new clubs, including Spanish club, American Field Services, International Relations, and As Schools Match Wits. I used to be very shy, but now I am learning to be more forward. But, given time, I can easily make friends. Some of my good friends say i should be a politician because of my skill in diplomacy and making friends.

My skill with words is reflected in my poetry. I am fairly good with writing creative poetry. I also like to write creative prose, but I am not as talented wit that as I am with poetry. I mostly like to write science fiction or adventure stories. My biggest problem is that I don’t have enough time to write long stories. Time is one luxury I would love to have more of.

I usually type instead of write my stories, because I can type faster than write. I also use my word processor on my Apple ][+ computer. I also like to program my computer. I have a fluent knowledge of BASIC, and I know a little PASCAL. When I have some extra time, I either try to teach myself PASCAL or just play games. I like the fast-moving games as well as the strategy games. After all, who doesn’t?

While I play these games, I like to listen to my tapes. My favorite music includes the groups Adam Ant, Queen, and the Stray Cats. Music plays a great role in my life. I also like “Rockabilly” music. I mostly like fast music because I like to dance.

When I’m not dancing, writing, or making new friends, I like to relax. Sometimes while I’m watching television, I like to analyze the commercials and look at the advertising techniques. I also like to look at politicians like this.

During the recent election, I liked to watch the candidates over a long period of time and see if they changed at all. I also liked to watch the way they spoke to the public. “‘When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said, in a rather scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.’” This is what politics means to me.

Whatever I happen to be doing, I also happen to be having a good time. There is almost nothing that can’t be made fun. Even so, I always look forward to doing something else, for I can rarely keep in one place. I like to be doing something all the time, even if it is just daydreaming.

I daydream quite a bit. I fantasize about being successful in everything I do. Sometimes I wish that I was a world class skier. Other times I think of all the things I could do with large sums of money. These fantasies provide an escape from the everyday grind that we all must go through.

Other forms of escape I use are fantasy role-playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons. I like to tak eon another character and be that character once in a while. It’s a sort of “alter ego”. It’s strange how most of my characters are crafty, clever, intelligent people who like to get into trouble. I guess I like to play myself—all except the “get into trouble” part. I try to avoid trouble at all times.

I do this because there is really no one hovering over me protecting me. I have no real “safety net” if I should fall. My mother lives in Las Vegas, and my father and my stepmother have just moved to San Diego. I stayed in Glastonbury to finish my senior year among my friends and classmates. Over the past three months, I have developed a strong sense of independence. Occasionally my father sends me some money for necessary things such as education and doctor’s fees. However, I have been working and spending my own money on frivolous pleasures such as lunch and clothing.

I am living with my step-grandmother, but she is very active and rarely home. Much of my time is spent out with my friends. During vacations, my college friends come home, and I spend much of my time with them. Sometimes we discuss what we’ve been doing and what we would like to do in the future.

My goals in life all seem to point to the ancient Greek “Golden Mean”. I would like, as I suspect most people would, to be my best physically, intellectually, and emotionally.

However, I also have lesser goals. For example, I want to clear eleven feet in the pole vault this year. I also want to muster enough courage to ski Starr (an expert-only trail on Mount Mansfield in Vermont).

I also have more distant goals. For example, I want to have a good job working with computers and robots after I graduate from college with perhaps a Master’s degree. But, perhaps strongest of all, I want to remember the “best four years of my life.”

Still here? Cool. Leave a comment and let me know what you think. Or where you went to (or will go to) college. Or whether you can read. Or if you did any of the things I did, or whether you think I was right about anything in the essay.

And the obligatory PROM PHOTO! Since it was high school, y'all.

robot battle - a #VEX ing day (blog with photos)

Last Saturday, I was part of the small team that hosted a robotics tournament featuring at least 300 participants and spectators, 28 teams, three live displays, two playing fields, and a qualifying spot for the World Championships on the line.

Although we had only a vague understanding of the equipment and software before setting up Friday night, it's amazing that we got the tournament underway only one hour delayed. Huge thanks to Dougherty Valley High's team for bringing the second field control unit; without that, we might have ended at 8 p.m. instead of 5 p.m. If we were lucky.

Friday night we set up the two fields and tested out the network, the three projector displays, and the fields. We didn't have all the equipment to actually run a practice match, so we quit setup around 8:30 p.m. and resumed about 6:30 Saturday morning. The kids were a big help setting up the fields, but the rest of it was up to the three adults who were the least clueless about technology... and who were also the least clueless about not volunteering.

The first field went up quickly. Notice it's not wired yet.

It took surprisingly long to figure out where the tables would go to control the flow of the matches.

The second field didn't arrive until 7:30, but it was up in 15 minutes.

The finished field, 

My schematic of the setup. Fields, laptops, projectors all clearly diagrammed.

I'd attended portions of VEX tournaments in the 2011-2012 school year, but I'd never hosted one. It's an enormous task, far more complex than I had imagined. And chaotic. When you have dozens of teams of high school geniuses vying for top honors, you get some questions like, "When will you have the schedule done?" And, "How about now?" And, "What about now?"

Our club would be fielding three different robots, the A, B, and E teams. They set up shop in the location closest to the concession stand, and they spared no effort in making their space comfortable.

The kids brought the sofas from the school library. Guess who had to put them back?

The work pit was also productive, though, with mods going on all day.

Once we got the first competition underway, however, there were very few glitches. The second match was rerun because a bad cable put one team at a disadvantage. Other than that, our fields and network worked pretty reliably all day. But there wasn't a single second I felt relaxed because if anything had gone wrong, I wouldn't have had a @#$!# clue how to fix it.

The first match is underway! And... it all works!

Most impressive to me (besides the fact that we got the equipment to work) was the behavior of the teams. I did not encounter a single student who behaved badly in any way. One team had a complaint about the field not working (we decided it was team error, not field error), but they were courteous and gracious about it despite their disappointment. A couple of adults got a bit feisty from time to time, but for the most part everyone was civil and helpful and quite pleasant.

Even though the competition was cutthroat.

Look at the intensity on Ethan's face as he drives the bot!

Teams paired up in a 2-on-2 competition, red team versus blue team.
The team to score the most beanbags in the goals won the round.

The spirit of competition was trumped only by the spirit of collaboration, with
teams helping other teams overcome technical anomalies throughout the day.

The least likely robot, the E Machine, made it to the quarterfinals on the strength of
great driving and the luck of being paired up with excellent partners in the late matches.

The E Machine tended to get stuck on top of the beanbags and had some trouble
lifting them up to the goals, but in the end it did better than either of the A or B bots.

This competition is a great event, and it makes me sad that it's not more aggressively promoted to the high school community. I get constant emails about fundraisers and events for all kinds of sporting events at the high school, yet only two or three faculty and none of the school administration came to the event (that I was aware of).

We had about 15 or 18 schools represented from all over the region, fielding 28 different robots. Throughout the day we had at least 300 people participating or spectating or working the event. The club president, a senior at the school, did a fantastic job under great stress, as did the parent volunteers and our faculty advisor. The kids in our high school robotics club didn't fare so well in the competition, but in my eyes (and in the comments from everyone I spoke with), they represented well with great sportsmanship, a solid effort, and good hospitality. No awards for Northgate this time, and a thorough trouncing in the quarterfinals. But an event everyone should be very proud of, and which was terrific fun.

If I had to miss coaching my other son's 5-2 soccer victory over one of the best teams in our league, then this is what I would want to be doing instead.

Good job, Northgate Robotics! We'll get 'em next year.