Everyone at their own pace. Hiking Mauna Loa - Part 2 of 3

I had just made it to the cabin in part 1.  Yet it was obvious we have to go out and try to find Davie as the sun was setting.  I knew he was least experienced in the mountain, least prepared, and while younger, not very well conditioned.  The problem was it had been a while since Martin had last seen him, and we had no idea how far back we may have to go.  We grabbed extra headlights / flashlights, I got some hot water and food in case he needed some, and my mini aid-kit was on me.  I was most worried he had altitude sickness or an injury. He hadn't managed to get through 11 miles in 10 hours - granted that was 3,000ft gain and a lot at 13,000 ft (4,000m) even without the extra 5 miles to the summit.
We were just hoping he is still on the trail.  Worst case would be if we missed him and went farther down.

Hike photos

Discuss signals with your partners.  We had no established communication signals or devices.  Walkie talkies are nice but also not reliable (and he didn't have one).  I always have a whistle (actually 3 - on my jacket, backpack, and compass), so we could at least announce ourselves.

Good that all our worries were unfounded : we got to him not too far, still on the trail, although his headlight wasn't really lighting up much.  He was alright just a little under the altitude.  We grabbed his backpack and made it back as the mountain was falling in darkness and winds howling - shelter thermometer at 27F(-3C).

In the mountain everyone should go at their own pace

On our hike to Vihren (2916m) my friend Spas shared a good piece of mountaineering lore "In the mountain everyone goes with their own pace".

There is much truth to this for best efficiency and safety.  Yet I don't believe it should be taken to the extreme of meeting your buddies only at camp.  

Depending on the situation, frequent checkpoints are necessary.

Help in case of emergencies requires maintaining visibility and within calling/whistle distance.

If finding the best steps to make is critical then being even closer is important.

Obviously, you can have a very enjoyable hike if you are able to keep conversational pace and safely get where you need to be.

I've noticed that going slower than my natural stride and cadence hurts my knees, and overall tires me more.  I much prefer stop-and-go than having to go with someone slower. Most economical speed depends on many individual factors, and aside from balancing the load each one is carrying there is little else one can do.  Taking lots of pictures is a good way to let others catch up.

The group must not go slower than the slowest person can possibly do.  If speed is paramount, go in a file with the stronger people setting trail.  If you slow down to go with the slow ones, they may slow down even more.  Stay ahead and set a little faster pace.

Two people can get lost easier than one.

There were four people on the mountain that day all practically soloing it.

An intrepid Polish girl was day hiking from the observatory.  She had been well acclimatized but was not keeping good pace on the summit descent.   She definitely was going to have to hike back in the dark.  I hope she made it back safely as well.  Keeping someone company can lift both their and your spirits and help set pace.  

I stated half-jokingly that all the times I've been lost I've been hiking with someone.  We still ended up way off the trail several times, while sharing life and adventure stories.  It's easy to get distracted and follow natural paths in the lava instead of the faint trail or tracking the cairns.

Lesson: one person must be designated responsible for following the trail.

On self-sufficiency

Like most extreme sports it is always better and overall safer to have a buddy.  Often unstated is you must have an equally trained buddy.  In practice, when you are with partners that are not capable of rescue or delivering help to you, you are virtually solo.  

* Extreme conditions require extreme preparedness.  You must be self-sufficient, trained and prepared.  Trust your knowledge, skills, and equipment.  Self-sufficiency also means being conservative.  Plan

for contingencies: equipment, physical or psychological failures.  Hazards must be anticipated and avoided, or at worst corrected and treated.  You must track early signs and symptoms, and act conservatively while you still can.

* I have to state I am a very conservative person.  It may not be obvious from these posts ;) It is a matter of taking calculated risks. 

* I also overengineer especially for necessities.  I carry three headlights with spare batteries, and three water treatment methods.  Two methods of starting fire, two types of stoves, two shelter solutions, two hats.  A minimal first-aid kit on me, and a full first aid kit.  I still consider myself ultralight...

* Don't push to your limits in the wilderness.  You must push your body to work harder to get in better shape.  Yet you can only push yourself in a safe environment - go running, cycling, swim in the pool.  Especially if soloing, whether in the ocean or in the mountains, you must be capable to go much faster than your plan and at least twice farther.  "At the end of a day, you should be able to do it all again!"

A trained buddy can make the difference between a fatal outcome and a good story, e.g. for say near or total blackout in freediving where just a little help is needed but you can't help yourself.  There are situations where you can't get yourself out of trouble due to either impaired judgment - e.g.  HACE altitude sickness, or impaired physical ability - e.g. HAPE altitude sickness.  We'll discuss altitude sickness and early signs in more detail in part 3 of this series.

Stop, Eat and Drink. Think. Act. Hiking Mauna Loa - Part 1 of 3

I hiked 69 km (43 miles) in 49 hours (including two sleepless nights) to the summit of the largest mountain and largest active volcano.  This three post series will cover most of the experiences and lessons learned and reinforced above 4000 m - including my favorite topics of hypothermia, solo adventures, and altitude sickness.

Most of the fun started in the critical couple of hours around sunset.  I had just summited Mauna Loa 4,169 m (13,679 ft) and I was on my way to the summit cabin - 4.5 miles (7 km) on the other side of the crater at 4,039 m (13,250 ft).  I was losing sensation of my fingers - especially bad on my left hand - exactly where I had two layers of gloves!  Maybe I could last half an hour before frostbite, but it was better to take care of my fingers now than to wait until I make it to the cabin.  I do need my fingertips (e.g. to write this blog), so I had to do something about them.

Stop, Eat and Drink. Think.  Act.

A good old advice for any critical situation is to stop, think, act.  In the mountain I'd extend that stop time to always first include drinking and eating!  And at 4,000 m, don't forget to breathe!

Taking time for my freezing fingers increased the risk that I won't make it to the cabin before dark.  I estimated that the cabin was probably just a mile away, sunset in half an hour, wind was picking up  (~15-20mph), temperatures subfreezing and quickly dropping.  Windchill was bad enough, I could just imagine the fun on this stretch if you are wet from rain, snow, or your own sweat.  Good there were no rain clouds and the snowstorm was expected the next evening.  I had hopes the wind may die off after sunset.  The warmth of direct sun contact was very palpable when getting in and out of the shadows.  It was already very dark inside the giant caldera.  I thought I could make it to the cabin even on headlights and I was close enough. 

Walking on crumpling lava

Lava is a very treacherous terrain even when it's not melting.  Walking mostly on the established trail, I had a few ankle bites from rocks bouncing and crumpling.  Looking for the cairns - black piles of rock, on black lava - against the setting sun was plenty to think about on thin air.  Off the trail, it's a new level of experience.  You have to learn what lava textures, shapes and formations are stable and relatively safe to walk on and plan a few steps ahead.

Some history.  I was in a crater last New Year's Eve on a different adventure on the Napau crater trail.  I was again chasing the sun at sunset. I hadn't anticipated the total darkness inside the crater at dusk beyond the shadow of the crater rim.

It was awe-inspiring to know you are likely the first and for sure the last man to ever step on a piece of earth falling apart.  You have to watch for textures as some lava will crumble into dust under your weight.  Watch for shapes even if texture appears solid, a lava bridge can crumple.  Piles of crumbled lava plates on a lava lake shake with every step.  Probing ahead with the trekking pole helps find the most unstable pieces.  Yet, occasionally you still fall a foot or two.  Cracked by pressurized lava gone underneath, a lava tube can be close to collapsing.  Steaming cracks and sulfurous fumaroles are not reliable indicators what to avoid.  Sometimes you have to jump over cracks that you don't see the bottom of, and the ground is crumbling where you land.  You look back and see a half a meter hole where you were just standing.  Just keep running, just keep running...

Over hot tea last night we were sharing stories with the other two backpackers on the mountain: Martin - an ex- fighter jet pilot, and his cousin Davie.  Martin had backpacked through all 50 states and had lived for 30 years a few miles from the volcano.  His most memorable experience went back to the 1970s - he had taken a 'shortcut' through the crater of Mauna Loa after a recent eruption with the ground crumbling down 1 m deep.  I commented he still had very vivid memories after so many years, and we both agreed such thrills are best experienced just once in a lifetime.

I've already had that adventure, and a reminder of it earlier that day the few times I got off the trail getting down the summit.  This time I had a heavy backpack and I was hiking solo.  

Maybe with headlights I could stay on the trail, though it was hard enough to follow the trail at daylight. 

Two headlights with one at lower height could help negotiate the relief and avoid stumbles.  Yet batteries would likely die quickly with subfreezing temperatures.  If I got off the trail after dark, the best course of action would probably be to setup shelter for the night.  I was self-sufficient so I could overnight here if needed after getting my fingers back, so that was a good backup plan so I could afford to stop.

Freezing hands treatment plan

I stopped in a lava tube even though it was cold, as the protection from the wind was most important.  

If your limbs are freezing the best thing to do is warm up the core and get the body furnace going.  Eating some carbohydrate gels and drinking plenty of water got me started.  I also put another core layer.

I removed the gloves.  First to assess what's going on - it looked like my liners were restricting blood flow.  I left the gloves off to get maximum circulation, counting on wind protection from jacket sleeves.

I went for a quick run to generate some more heat (but not breaking sweat!).

I warmed up my hands on my biggest, close to skin arteries - going in order femoral (between legs), carotid (neck), and finally close to heart when hands were warmer.  It seemed to take a while before I regained sensation.

I increased my speed a notch to very brisk to keep me warmer and of course get me to the cabin faster.  My goal was to stay on track, and watch each step, as it would be the worst time to treat sprains or injuries.

Staying hydrated is absolutely critical for preventing both hypothermia and altitude sickness.

Fast exertion required breathing through both nose and mouth, and thin cold dry air especially though the mouth requires a constant supply of water.  

Now we can analyze what really went wrong:

Mittens vs Gloves

   The glove liner wasn't stretchy enough and was cutting circulation!  I was also gripping the trekking poles too tightly.  

   For photography and campsite chores I prefer wearing gloves vs having mittens.  If you need to take mittens off for precise tasks, you are overall more likely to get frostbite.  It's also hard to remember to put heavy duty mittens next to your swimsuit when packing for Hawaii ;)

Trekking pole technique

   My trekking pole technique is closer to cross country skiing / Nordic walking with double poling.  It had been working great to use the whole body to carry the extra weight.   I had no knee problems at all, even later on the downhills with the heavy backpack.  However, my poles were getting stuck in the cracks in the lava.  The final throw backwards with straight arm, open hand, weight on strap, was no longer that effective.  The left side of the trail was also less stable.  For both of these reasons I had started mostly gripping tightly the handles to plant better.

   Changes made: For the rest of the evening kept moving my hands and always did the catch and release.  On the final flat stretch, I switched to using the poles just when tripping and not for active support.  I held my hands on the strap instead of using the exposed grips.

Aggressive plans require aggressive execution

At 9am the previous day I had been looking for dolphins at the beach weighing whether to go freediving at -66ft or give my worsening ear infection a break.  I decided to play it safe and stay dry on the

volcano at 13679ft.  The prudent ranger at the park suggested the standard five nights itinerary, and to be prepared to stay longer in the cabins when the looming snowstorm hits.  He also said that it takes most people a full day to go around the crater even without backpacks as it is all at 4000 m.

The recommended Mauna Loa itinerary (5 nights): first night at the park at 4000ft; morning start for 7.5 mile hike to cabin at 10035ft; 11.5 m hike to summit cabin at 13250ft; 9 m hike to summit 13679ft and back to the summit cabin; 11.5m back to red hill cabin; AND on the sixth day 7.5m hike to trailhead.

My aggressive Mauna Loa itinerary (2 nights) 7.5m hike to stay at 10035ft in an afternoon; 16.5m hike to summit 13679ft and staying at summit cabin 13250ft; with a 19m hike back to trailhead on third day. I assumed altitude sickness (AMS) won't get to me immediately, so I could make the 7.5 miles in 4 hours. Everything else was just best case estimates, so I reserved 2 extra nights if AMS or bad weather got me.  With this plan I carried water for only 4 days, assuming that if the snowstorm comes I could melt snow.  Everything so far had been going according to plan, except for some delays to be covered in part 2.

If you make aggressive plans, execute aggressively.  I had worried that my outer ear infection might turn into an inner ear infection, as last time I had otitis it affected my balance.  I had doddled in the morning thinking it might be wiser to hike with Martin and Davie.  They weren't planning on doing the extra 5 miles from the intersection to the true summit that day.  

Martin and I hit the trail at 8am.  I still made it to the intersection at 1:30pm so I had decided to go for the summit.

Lessons:

* Hiking at dusk should never be planned in.  The day was very short - 11 hours.

* Never waste daylight.  Wake up at dawn, leave camp at sunrise.  Next day I did that.

GPS and batteries

My GPS was dead.  I had been taking waypoints every hour and that usually burns 1% battery.  At the summit it plummeted from 59% to dead.  We can blame as much Garmin, as the wind and cold.

Lessons:

  - Never rely on a GPS.  Obviously a map and compass need little maintenance.  

  - Absolutely never rely on a wrist-mounted one.  Carry a GPS with replaceable batteries in an inner pocket if you insist.

  - Never rely on a Garmin.  I do like it for training, but the battery life is so poor it can't last a whole Ironman competition.

None of this mattered at this point, as the terrain was totally unsafe for night time off-trail hiking.

Self-sufficiency

At the last intersection I had left a note to the Martin and Davie saying I am heading to the summit.  The note had been turned, so I knew they were already ahead at the cabin.  I wasn't counting on them to come look for me.

My backpack was heavy to satisfy demands for self-sufficiency in the desolate lava.  I had 3 more days of food supplies and water (10L).  On the positive side, I was prepared to set up camp if necessary.  I expected temperatures ~20F(-7C), but high winds were a worry as there was a snowstorm expected in two days.  The cabin would be nicer and safer.

At the cabin

There was still some light to take pictures of the otherworldly terrain.  Before I entered the cabin I checked out the thermometer at the window was just below freezing not counting the wind 30F (-1C).  The temperature was rapidly falling as the daylight was disappearing.  It's fancy LED display also had last night's minimum at 16F(-9C).  (Next morning I checked this night had been warmer at 20F (-7C)).  Either way camping out of the cabin would have been cold.  I was glad I made it.

I saw a propane stove light and I was thinking about getting some hot tea as I walked in.

Martin: Where is Davie?

To be Continued...