Tag Archives: hiking

The Complete Untethered Series

The latter part of last year was spent shooting and finishing two web-series for portable power company TYLT. Untethered: My Passion introduces us to 9 unique people actively living their passions and covers a wide range of interests spanning music to fashion to comic books to photography to BASE jumping. Untethered: On the Road follows Erika and me on a 55 day road trip across 42 U.S. states as we live out of a coupe, document our travels, experience new things, and meet work-related deadlines.

Both series released earlier this year and My Passion garnered a Telly Award.

Watch both series here in their entirety (all 16 episodes) and see how many faces you recognize. Take a look back at how the journey unfolded on instagram via #LiveUntethered or #ChinnyRoad2016.

 

Matthes – Moments, Mistakes, and Mileage

Saturday, 16 September 2016. 5:31 AM.
Sitting in my car at the Cathedral Lakes Trailhead in Tuolumne waiting for the sun to rise and begin to warm everything, I watch hiking groups and climbers come and go. I had driven into the area late the previous night and struggled to find an available campsite. The season in Tuolumne was coming to an end, campgrounds would be closed in a week or so and I would be embarking on a two month roadtrip across the U.S. within that same margin. If Alwin and I hoped to climb the Matthes Crest Traverse before next summer, it had to happen this weekend. The original plan was to meet Friday night in Tuolumne. I arrived later than I’d hoped and Alwin was running even further behind. His last message said he would be sleeping in Oakhurst and would meet me at the trailhead between 5:30 and 6:00 AM. My phone buzzes. I raise it to read Alwin’s text, “I slept here in the valley just woke up I’m on my way please wait for me.” I chuckle because I have no intention to solo the route, waiting for him is my only option. The Sun rises. More groups come and go. I take various photos. I read a magazine. I contemplate napping, but think it could be a bad idea as it may make me more groggy. I use the porta-potty. I sort my rack. His mini-van arrives. 7:30 AM. I didn’t suspect I was two hours into a 21-hour day.

Tuolumne Meadows is the Eastern portion of Yosemite National Park—the high country. Accessible from the meadows is the Cathedral Range where you’ll find many higher altitide climbs including Matthes Crest, a nearly mile long fin of granite rising at its highest point 900ish feet above the valley below (nearly 11,000 feet above sea level). Many hike the 4-5 miles to its base to climb its face and traverse its thin—occasionally knife-edged—and featured ridge line.The most common route is to traverse from its South face two-thirds of its length to the North Summit where the climbing gets harder, rappel off, and hike back the 4-5 miles to the trailhead. This was our plan.

As we sorted the remaining gear in Alwin’s van, the full story of his tardiness was revealed. He had been battling a bout of food poisoning the night before and crashed in his van near a restroom. The night alternated between attempts to sleep and emergency sprints to the toilet. He was finally able to relax in the early morning and slept through his alarm. His stomach had settled, but he was operating on very little sleep. We collectively did not have a full night’s rest between us and we were now 2 hours behind schedule. We shouldered our bags, stashed Gatorade and snacks in a nearby bear box, and began the hike into the backcountry.

Cathedral Peak is a beautiful 700 foot granite triangle protruding from the Earth and demarcating the boundary of the Cathedral Range. We hiked past it reminiscing about when we had each climbed it in the past. The valley dropped below us and we hiked down towards the Cathedral Lakes where we briefly joined the JMT (John Muir Trail) and were greeted by campers and a family of deer.  We had missed an earlier side trail skirting Budd Lake leading to Matthes more quickly. The views we were absorbing, the deer, and the perfect weather were worth the added mileage. At this point. We began heading uphill towards a long ridge partially obscured by trees. The contours didn’t seem quite right and it appeared less imposing than I expected. We forced our way up the slabs and the closer we grew, the more I doubted the formation. I stopped to remove the guidebook from my pack. As I turned, I saw an unmistakable ridge line—beautiful and intimidating—directly across from us. On. The. Other. Side. Of. The. Valley. We were near the foot of Tresidder Peak, a mile away from Matthes  and with 3,000 or so feet of elevation change to navigate between the two points. Neither of us would be applauding our navigation skills for the day. With a collective sigh, we began our descent.

Saturday, 16 September 2016. After 2:00 PM.
After 6 hours of hiking, a laborious scenic detour, and never-ending ascending slabs, we found ourselves triumphant at the base of Matthes. I snacked, Alwin took the world’s shortest power nap, and we tied in. Matthes is notoriously crowded. Not if you start after 2:00. The only other group we would see was already transitioning from the climb into the long traverse.  9 hours in and I was finally ascending rock. The climb of the Southwest Face was straightforward and uneventful. We each lead a pitch and were on the summit in a reasonable time. 2 pitches with a 70 meter (230 feet) rope, our only rope—a decision we would regret.

To attempt to belay all of the half-mile traverse would be ludicrous. Most simul-climb or solo the traverse. We were unsure when we could comfortably stop belaying and start simul-climbing. The answer was almost immediately. Alwin belayed me as I began the traverse and ascent up a short slabby crack section. I placed one piece, stepped above it and yelled back that it was much easier than it appeared. “Let’s simul.” Simul-climbing is precisely what it sounds like: simultaneous climbing. There is no belayer. The leader places occasional protection, the follower stays a safe distance behind cleaning the gear as he also climbs. It is far less safe, but the right call in certain situations such as this one. To be fair, most of our “climbing” was careful walking and scrambling with periodic technical moves. The rock face did fall several hundred feet straight down on either side of us so the “walking and scrambling with periodic technical moves” could be intimidating and the consequences were severe. The wind blew constantly, the view was spectacular, we took turns leading, enjoyed the featured climbing, and moved at a steady pace past the halfway point steadily working in the direction of the South Summit and towards our worst decision of the day.

I was carrying two cameras: an old Panasonic GX7 in my pack and a small GoPro Session on my helmet. Each was fairly new (to me). The GX7 was purchased on ebay and this was its maiden voyage. I would often pull it from my pack to grab photos and videos (such as the one embedded above). The GoPro Session was on its second adventure, the first having been a route called Fingertrip on Tahquitz in Idyllwild a week prior (also with Alwin). I have been using GoPro cameras for seven years in all sorts of environments. The only time I had ever lost one was years ago when I stupidly told a friend to throw it to me while I treaded water in a frigid dark pothole in Eaton Canyon. Otherwise, I had abused the shit out of these cameras with minimal consequences. A small latch on the Session would be my undoing. I was leading again and moving into a tricky section with an awkward downclimb into a thin backwards traveling traverse. I hugged the rock, shimmied along, and turned my head to check my surroundings. Scrape. Pop. Whoosh. A small latch on the Session had popped open, the camera shot off the back of my head and bounced down the slabby face below. I completed the traverse and settled onto a much roomier ledge. I built an anchor around a small bush and squinted searching the ledges below where small flecks of rock twinkled as if from a tiny camera lens while awaiting Alwin’s arrival.

We reviewed the situation. All of the most interesting footage of the day (feet walking knife-edges, thin traverses, expansive vistas surrounding intense exposure) was on that camera plus the camera was practically brand new. If we finished the route and descended at the North Summit, we’d never make it to the base where the camera may lay before dark. Besides, it was probably on one of the many ledges directly beneath us. As I struggled with a decision, Alwin’s words surprised me, “We have to find your camera.” It is said you can retreat at many places on the West face and there was evidence someone had done so before—tat decorated the shrub I had slung. To get off the North Summit only required two or three raps with a 70 meter rope and we expected this section to be similar. We’d be down before dark and we could search each ledge along the way. Logic had left us. And so we descended.

Two raps down. No sign of the camera. We continued expecting each rappel to be the last. The Sun was rapidly disappearing. The rope sometimes wouldn’t quite reach the next ledge and so we found ourselves at dusk down-soloing a 40 foot crack. If only we had carried a second rope. Anchor options grew less ideal with each ledge and I was always concerned the rope would snag on the pull. Alwin had forgotten his headlamp in the van during the tumultuous morning. We continued in the dark sharing my headlamp or using the flashlight on Alwin’s phone. 6 raps in lead to another down-solo through choss and dirt piles, our supply of quicklinks and emergency webbing dwindling. As we sacrificed my cordelette and one of Alwin’s carabiners on rap 8, we hoped once again to be embarking on our final rappel. The fates smiled upon us. The ground flattened, the rope pulled, and we scrambled down into the dark woods, the Session visible nowhere. I estimate we had been rappelling for over three hours.

We bushwhacked through the wooded area and emerged into the open valley. We could see headlamps high on the North side of Matthes. Others were sharing a similar fate. We wished them luck and continued into the night. Discussing our options we agreed on a sound plan of action, perhaps our first of the day. We didn’t dare try to take the shorter route back to the trailhead. We had missed it by day, our chances would not be better in the dark. Yet, we knew where to find the JMT, and although a longer route, we knew it would lead back to the trailhead without a doubt. We shuffled for hours and I often fantasized about the Gatorade awaiting me in the bear box. We had both run through our water and were finishing our meager snacks. Tuolumne is still beautiful under moonlight, but we were exhausted and the trail never seemed to end. Our breaks grew more frequent and progressively longer.

Sunday, 17 September 2016. 2:30 AM.
Finally the bear box mirages I kept imagining formed into a tangible solid form—a real bear box. I swung open the door and was greeted by a fresh Gatorade. It was not long for the world. We emptied our contents into our vehicles and caravanned to the campsite where we promptly collapsed and slept until noon. Our plans to climb more on Sunday now seemed ludicrous. We grabbed lunch at the Whoa Nellie Deli and discussed how we need to return this year and properly finish the route. 19 hours seems like an easy time to beat. And that camera is probably still waiting for us. Right?

In The Backyard

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T
ujunga, California. When asked where I live, most people—even many born in Los Angeles—stare at me in confusion. Those who do recognize the name rarely know where it is located, but imagine it is “far away.” North of Burbank, East of Sunland, West of La Cañada, and South of the Big Tujunga section of the Angeles National Forest. That is where you will find Tujunga. And, yes, it is inside Los Angeles City limits. Half an hour from the heart of the city, ten minutes from the mountains and forest. Oh, and Elliott’s house from E.T. is found here.

Many canyon routes are located on the other side, the North Side, of the mountains behind my neighborhood. A few blocks away are a couple of trails that head up the South side. The peak of one of those mountains is Mt. Lukens, the highest peak located in Los Angeles city limits. One afternoon while jogging/hiking one of those trails, I got an idea. I should be able to start from a trail in the Big Tujunga Wilderness, ascend to Mt. Lukens, and descend to my neighborhood. Then, walk home. The idea of beginning a hike in the forest and ending it at my doorstep was really appealing to me. One Sunday morning I had Erika drive me into the forest and leave me at the Wildwood Picnic Area and the start of the Stone Canyon Trail. I’ve hiked a portion of this trail a couple of times because it is the approach to the technical canyon route Stone Plus One. This route ascends 3500 feet over a few miles and leads to Mt. Lukens, a peak covered in transmission towers. I popped in some earbuds, turned on a podcast, and made my way up the trail. Two and a half hours later, I stood atop the peak. Behind me were views of never-ending mountains and forest. Ahead of me, Los Angeles spread in all directions terminating at the ocean. I explored the peak and its towers for a bit, then joined the Rim of the Valley Trail heading down into Los Angeles. At 3:00 PM, I walked down my driveway. There was something satisfying and freeing about ending a hike at my door. So much so, that I had Erika drop me off at Wildwood again yesterday.

Tolerate My Voice & Hear My Podcast

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I
t began as a video web-series a year ago. I thought it would be wise to further complicate my life so it has expanded into a podcast. What is it? G.O. Get Outside. And it is live. It is even on iTunes.

Expect a new episode every Thursday beginning September 10th. Season one will clock in at 21 installments (wrapping in early January). Three episodes are up now. What is it about? I’m glad you asked so I won’t feel so awkward telling you. This is what it says in iTunes and on the website:

G.O. Get Outside: The Podcast is a radio-style interview show for people who like to get outdoors or would like to get outdoors. Hell, it may even be a show for people who don’t know they want to get outdoors. Too busy? Think you don’t have time for frivolous outside crap? Poppycock! Each episode of G.O. delves into the outdoor lifestyle of some everyday schmo who probably has more in common with you than you think. Whether you are BASE jumping off a flying unicorn or hiking around your neighborhood in between diaper changes, you have a place here. Pop open your podcast machine and give it a listen. Maybe it will stoke some embers you didn’t know were burning.

Still unclear? Listen to episode one where it is explained in more detail or listen to all of them to really clarify your confusion. While you are there, want to do me a huge favor? You do?! How magnanimous of you! Subscribe, rate, and review it in iTunes. It will help more than you can imagine. Off to your podcast machine. Get. Go. Shoo.

Fifth Year of the Tiny Camera

It has been five years since I got that first HD GoPro. I’m not using that same model anymore (I just gave it away a few days ago), but I am still using these tiny cameras that keep getting tinier. At the end of 2010, I had decided to make a compilation using all of the footage from that year. Somehow I knew it was the beginning of a tradition because I named that video Year One. Now we are rolling into 2015 and the fifth of the series is live. This year the video is on YouTube because Vimeo’s new copyright algorithms didn’t let me upload it there. Oddly, YouTube did. The music is once again from First Aid Kit. I didn’t ask for their permission and hopefully if they ever stumble across this video or Year Four, they won’t hate me.

Havasupai in the Fall

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Many aren’t aware of it, but most have seen photos of the falls and creek. Havasupai is an Indian reservation in Arizona on the western end of the Grand Canyon. The waters are saturated with travertine, a mineral that gives them a surreal bluish tint and make a desert creek look like a secluded island paradise.

A week ago, a group of us made the 10 mile hike down into the canyon to camp for a couple of nights and explore the various falls in the area.

Taking Steps

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Exploration, adventure, and the outdoors have always been of interest to me. Growing up in Louisiana, I spent a fair amount of time outdoors, but adventure sports never seemed like an option. Climbing was something I saw on TV or in magazines. Besides, Louisiana has no mountains or boulders. I had to settle for trees. Surfing was something I longed to do, yet it was also out of reach. I wanted to try backpacking, but never did, even though I joined a club in High School that could have shown me how. I told myself I couldn’t afford it. Louisiana is known as Sportsman’s Paradise. The sports this encompasses are hunting and fishing. I knew many hunters and fisherman growing up, but not a single person who could have shown me how to tie a figure eight or paddle into a wave. The outdoor activities that interested me seemed complicated, expensive, and out of reach. I would finally learn otherwise at the age of 29 after living in California for four years.

I think this is the norm. I think most of us suspect that outdoor and adventure sports are something reserved for the elite, something beyond our capabilities.  They aren’t. You just need the personal drive and directions to the starting line.

Today, we at Butcher Bird Studios released a four episode web-series called G.O. Get Outside. If you want to get into caving, hiking, surfing, or canyoneering, these episodes can help you get started. Hopefully, there will be more episodes focusing on other activities in the future. It took me nearly three decades to find the trailhead. I hope these episodes can help you get there sooner.

gogetoutside.com

A Glimpse Behind the Hike

I’ve been working on this piece in my “spare” time for a few weeks now. It is hopefully a prelude to many more Butcher Bird Studios outdoor videos.

In addition to our other productions, Butcher Bird Studios is moving into outdoor and adventure video. The quadcopter is the latest tool we’ve adopted to aid in that pursuit and our other production work. In September of 2013 we ventured into the Ansel Adams Wilderness to test the copter and our own abilities.

Aerial Footage shot with GoPro HD Hero 3 on a DJI Phantom.
Behind the Scenes footage shot with Canon 7D and Sony FS700.
Interviews shot with Panasonic GH1.
Audio recorded with Tascam DR100.

Additional aerial footage shot in Joshua Tree National Park and Texas Canyon.

Into the 21st Century Teens

Four years of GoPro use have passed quickly. The image quality has improved dramatically (although the battery life has suffered) and I even got to strap it on a few radio-controlled helicopters this year. Above is my annual compilation of footage shot throughout the year with my tiny beaten and bruised GoPro 3 (and some of my friend’s GoPros also). This year I decided to take a different approach with the music selection by using a moody piece by First Aid Kit. Go buy their music.

Island Jaunt

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I’ve reached that point in my life where most of my friends are moving into or approaching their forties. A couple of weeks ago, a group of us celebrated Steven’s crossing of the 40 threshold on Santa Cruz Island in California’s Channel Islands. It’s the biggest of the islands and one I hadn’t visited before. It was a day of boat riding, hiking, snorkeling, and watching a kayaker be evacuated after injuring himself in a sea cave. I’d like to return with a kayak to explore the caves and remote beaches. While hiking around, we were lucky to stumble upon one of the islands adorable endemic foxes. Unfortunately, the only shot I was able to get of the pup wasn’t a very interesting one. Below are a few of the more decent photos I took from throughout the day.