HCRHST stands for the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. My son and I are attempting his first end-to-end which turned out to be about 90 miles. For pictures and back story check out these links: Getting Ready, Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Pictures, and Progress.

This is the portion of our trip where things began to get a bit crazy. Now, you may say that not having a hotel was crazy, or that sleeping through extreme weather warnings was crazy, or even hitchhiking with your small child was crazy, but all that was sort of par for the course on a long distance trip especially through our Gorge in January.

When we hit our third extreme weather advisory in Eagle Creek it was due to flooding. The rain began to come and it just didn't stop. It transformed from rain into pouring and continued for 2 days solid. This combined with the fact it had warmed up only enough to not be snowing and the ground was melting off. We got updates from the Rangers that went something like this: "You cannot continue, all trails are closed," or "We have rerouted some of the major trails as things appear to be letting up, but it is still not safe to continue," or "Nope, you can't go on. Multnomah Falls is even closed due to snow melt combined with the flooding. " When that one was announced I knew we might actually have to end. The only other time this major tourist attraction has been closed was in the now fabled Floods of '96. During that time the Willamette River rose over 10 and a half feet. A foot of that was in under 3 days. We get serious rain here. Since we didn't have a television or the Internet to watch, I couldn't really tell just how bad it was elsewhere. So the map was pulled out and we tried to figure out a new game plan as the information streamed in.

Multiple giant Douglas Fir trees flank the original pavilion complete with stone fireplace and giant cooking pad.

Luckily, Eagle Creek is an incredible spot to be holed up. In the 1840's this is the place where intrepid Oregon Trail folks would place their wagons on rafts and float them down the Columbia hoping for the best. By the late 1800's steamers were popular here and ferried all sorts of cargo up and down the Gorge allowing commerce to the settlements. Due to such popular traffic, in 1915 The Columbia River Gorge Park was established as a unit of the Oregon National Forest system. This was the first time in our nation's history that any part of land was set aside for exclusively recreational use. The very small space (23 miles by about 5 miles wide) was set aside from timber use, resort population, and even mining.

The rock reads: "In honor of Jacob Kanzler 1879-1940 whose dedication to humanity and love of the great outdoors this 23 mile strip along the Columbia River was formally dedicated in 1915 to all people for recreational use and enjoyment.

So as the rain poured down around us, The Barracuda and I slept in the first campground to ever be established in a National Forest. In the first two years the campground was established (1915-1917) more than 150,000 people would sleep here and use the Eagle Creek Trail. This action set the precedent to be followed by the rest of the nation in the National Parks system. We read Call of the Wild, listened to the eagles scream overhead catching fish, and tried to stay as dry as possible. It seems like such a simple act, but connecting with that kind of history has been important to our family. We want our son to see that if it weren't for the early days of preservation, much of what he knows just wouldn't exist.


To be clear, the Columbia River Gorge Park was not considered a National Park. Yellowstone was the first designated National Park in 1890, but was set aside as animal and land protection. Yosemite, was deeded to the state of California in 1864 for preservation as well. The Columbia River Gorge Park was the first recreational facility on federal lands and Eagle Creek the first campground. It was not for preservation of animals or resources, but for the sheer joy of recreational pursuits and a trial for the forest service to see if people would actively use a space for camping/hiking/natural pursuits.

I'm a control freak. While I realize the entire effort is completely pointless, because we are ultimately in control of almost nothing, I still grip the world far too tightly when it comes to matters of big change. I'm highly easy going with the little stuff, but big stuff and I just don't work out too well if you spring it on me.

Let's pick an example from quite a long list of recent events: In order to cash a savings bond I had to be placed on Jules' checking account for approximately 4 days. I had a complete panic attack in the middle of the bank. I think I scared the teller a bit. The security guard was definitely on edge as well. Later, Jules likened it to a cartoon cat who is supposed to take a bath. Yeah...that's probably accurate.

Well, another freak out moment happened yesterday. After quite a long drive and personal lecture (I moved out pretty young and had to embrace the art of the personal lecturing), I have decided to put my big girl pants on and get back into this blogging and being an adult thing. Regardless of how much of life is up in the air at the moment, I should probably hold it together a tad bit better than I have been. You know, that whole Role-Model-To-A-Child deal.

Let me state for the record (and mainly all the Family who read this), the up in the air stuff isn't really bad stuff. Here's the short list:

1 ) Finding out about the ulcer stuff isn't bad, though I am annoyed with how much of it is unknown.

2 ) The first house we were looking at fell through after 2.5 months of negotiations; it was a bummer. That isn't bad, because the one down the street we are currently negotiating on (and have been for the last month) is much, much better even if it is nail bitingly suspenseful working for approval of 3 different agencies (owner, county, and leasing agent) More will come after April 8th when we are given some kind of confirmation. Currently we are through 2 agencies and just need the third.

3 ) My work as a writer has been on hold for 6 weeks (making money tight), but that isn't bad because they are reworking the entire website and I've been given a promotion to columnist (WAHOO!).

4 ) After almost a month of planning, we are sending off our Wonderland Trail application and won't know until May. That's not really bad, since I want the mountain to be intact more than I want to traipse around it, but it sure would be nice to know earlier if the whole thing was going to happen and how many miles we have to hike a day.

So yeah, that kinda normal adult life stuff that I should probably not get all bent out of shape about. Long story short, blogging will once again be back to normal.

Here in our household, there is only one person who follows what would normally be called "Traditional Medicine" and that is Jules. I am slowly corrupting him over to "VooDoo Medicine" as he calls anything homeopathic. I don't even take asprin. However, in the last little bit that has had to change due to this whole ulcer thing. In the middle of the night, stabbing stomach pains which inhibit walking and breathing require an emergency room visit regardless of where you stand with Traditional Medicine. In my experience, emergency room visits generally result in X rays and medications with long fancy names, and this one was no different. I've now been on meds for about a month and it is really throwing me for a loop!

Pre ulcer diagnosis, I didn't really realize there was much going wrong in my stomach. I'd have occasional heart burn (but who doesn't when they eat triple pepperoni pizza with pineapple?) and I could easily identify the food which I ate that was probably a bad choice. It didn't really happen very often. I didn't feel all that tired. I didn't really have many foods which upset my stomach or my intestines. In short, I considered myself pretty healthy.

Now, I am on anti-inflammatory meds which turn down my stomach acid level quite considerably. I am supposed to accompany these meds with an over-the-counter antacid 30 minutes before I eat something acidic or which could produce excess stomach acid due to being hard to digest. Do you know now many foods are considered "acidic?" They include, but are not limited too: oranges, any citrus fruits or juices, tomatoes, coffee, chocolate, meats other than fish or chicken, fatty sauces or gravies, items which contain calcium (because they increase stomach acid), nuts and seeds (hard to digest), many raw vegetables, items which contain honey or sugar, and fruit juices. Well, that basically includes 90 percent of what I eat.

My non-medication centered life has been quite different for the last 25 days and I'm not liking the results. I'm exhausted. All this lowering of my stomach acids has caused significantly decreased digestion and I'm really feeling it. My anti-medication stance is being further fortified as I really dislike the borderline nausea feeling of having a constantly full stomach, but my body demanding more nutrients. Man oh man, I don't know how people can take handfuls of medication, or medications to counteract symptoms of other medications. It's kicking my butt!

I honestly recognize the need for me to be on these meds for the month that I have been. I dare say the pain in my stomach was even slightly more intense than labor with The Barracuda, and believe me, it wasn't a fun birth. With 11 pills left, I'm sticking it out because I just plain don't want to feel that bad again. However, after this first dosage is over we are switching back to the natural route for illness protection and prevention. If my current feeling is how 62% of traditional medicine followers feel, it explains a lot about depression in the United States.

It is odd to say that since taking medication to make me "better," I feel far worse. Considering most people acquire the H. pylori bacteria in their system when they are children and then carry it the rest of their lives, the issue is most likely never going to go away for me. Personally I'm taking this stint of ickiness to further fortify my desire to go back to juicing, teas/tonics, yoga, and long distance trails.

HCRHST stands for the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. My son and I are attempting his first end-to-end which turned out to be about 90 miles. For pictures and back story check out these links: Getting Ready, Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Pictures, and Progress.

Each morning I awoke about an hour before The Barracuda and would begin packing up. This way he could sleep as long as possible and I didn't have to think about his needs while getting everything packed. The night before we would set aside our morning Clif Bar (or Luna, or Odwalla, or Mojo bar) selection and oatmeal flavor for the next day. It was placed in my Wet Rib and meant no food had to be even thought about until backpacks were reopened to set up camp. The stove was always placed into The Barracuda's backpack along with the pot and all cooking supplies. I traded him for his clothes after the first day when it was frustrating to unpack so much just to eat. Our clothing for the next day was either slept in (when it was so cold) or placed in the bottom of the sleeping bag to heat up for morning.

When I awoke on Day 5, my mind was feeling better than the previous evening, but still reeling a bit. I'd hit the "What am I doing!?" point of being a parent. You know that feeling in the hospital when they hand you the baby to take home and all the nurses who have been taking care of things seem to feel that you are competent enough to take over? Jules likens it to when he taught his first day of classes as an actual teacher. It is that feeling of "Are you crazy!? I can't be responsible for this! Don't know know me?!" After our day coming from Wyeth my fearlessness was fading. There was a 6 year old I was in charge of who had no clue how dangerous some of yesterday was.

The greatness of sleep is that with dawn a whole new day begins again. We had no choice but to keep on walking. Today we were going to meet up with Jules and Guadie at Cascade Locks for our resupply and charging my cell phone. Due to the cold my phone would only stay charged for about a day and a half. As a result, it was off all day and only turned on at night so the alarm would wake me in the morning or for snow checks.

We got to sleep in a bit and awoke to quite a different feel in the air. You can smell the rain coming around here and it was definitely moving in. The once vibrant expanse of the Gorge, had become quite grey with all the clouds moving in.

The dingy day didn't damper our spirits too much. We had a date with Jules and Guadie in about 3.5 miles. That meant a resupply and restaurant food! Plus, even when grey, looking out at snow capped Cascades and the Columbia River is pretty incredible.


As we hiked on, the fog followed us. We were dropping in elevation down to the town of Cascade Locks and the bulk of the Cascades had been crossed. Being a major stop on the PCT, this town knows quite a lot about stinky hiker trash and welcomes them much more fondly than Hood River did for us. Though it had only been two days since I had had a shower, my clothing had been worn hard and was still unwashed. My son was not shy in letting me know that I stank. Later, Jules was just a generous with his comment, "You smell like a dirty thru hiker!" Why thank you, Honey!

We were walking briskly and covering the trail fast when a lanky gentleman in screaming blue capiliene and knickers appeared in the distance along with a very wiggly, backpack wearing dog. The dog burst into a sprint at the call of her name from The Barracuda. Guadie is already a wiggly dog, but when excited she goes completely overboard. Her hind quarters were gyrating back and forth, she was throwing herself at The Barracuda, she was licking me, her tail was whapping erratically; she was ecstatic. Not only were her people all back together, but she got to hike. Doggy life just doesn't get much better than that!

I don't think she left his side the entire time.

The rain began before we could even cover the 1.5 miles down to Cascade Locks. The drizzle slowly turned into a constant moisture, rain gear was donned and we slogged on. Once in town, we hit the nearest decent looking restaurant, plugged in my cell phone, and tried to take off any stuff which had wet-out. When the waitress came to our table and threw out the general question, "What would you like?" the Barracuda promptly blurted out his order of a dinner sized steak sandwich, french fries, cocoa, a salad with ranch, and a giant blueberry muffin. The waitress stared down at him with wide eyes, then saw our backpacks out the window and smiled. The food was brought, and the gusto with which my 45 pound child inhaled his lunch was quite impressive. He even helped finish off Jules' left over french fries.

As we ate the rain continued to fall. It wasn't going to reach more than 35 degrees, but wasn't projected to freeze either. We warmed up in the restaurant while we could, but knew a very damp day lay ahead. When leaving town, a horn honked and the nice gentlemen who had helped us the day before waved out the window of his truck. He said he was glad to see we made it, told Jules he had a pretty incredible son, and wished us luck. Throughout the trip, we would encounter wonderful people with kind hearts willing to help strangers. It is a very pleasant reminder of the world's goodness which is so often forgotten.

On the way from Cascade Locks to Eagle Creek, The Barracuda played trail games with his father, skipped along with a very full belly, and generally was happy as all get out. Jules coming meant that we could all sleep together, he got to be with his dog, he could relay all the previous hiking adventures to his dad, and (most importantly) there would be an iPod to listen to and sing along with. I was happy for a fresh supply of energy bars and some adult conversation, but let him have all of Jules' attention.

I preferred to marvel at the sheer amount of green which had begun to appear. Even as the clouds covered the entire sky and rain was coming down forcefully now, the entire expanse in front of us was carpeted in green. It covered the trees. It swelled over the ground in a dozen different shades, taking over even the rocks. With the falling rain, the color seemed even more vibrant against the downed red cedar trees and fallen leaves. It was a whole new other-worldly quality now that we were crossing out of the mountains and back into the rainy side of the Gorge.

The summers are nothing like this. Evergreens still stand and ferns poke out from anywhere possible, but the technicolor appearance fades without any rain.

As the rains continued, the cold began to seep in. It became very apparent that Eagle Creek was going to be a place to hole up and attempt to stay dry. Unlike other places in the nation where rain tends to come down in furious torrents and then move on quickly, here it lingers. The entire experience is much less aggressive. The rain creeps in, steadily falls for days, and then will ease away. Unfortunately, the temperature often hovers and the wind whips through causing disgusting hiking conditions. You can literally feel it as the city begins to hunker down and wait out the water.

Cascade Locks is the place where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses from Oregon to Washington. If you are a north-bounder, you are basically home free if you can beat out the snow. They close down the 2 lane bridge (The Bridge of the Gods) to all traffic and allow PCT hikers to cross in groups during the busy season. It is a nod to the work and effort of those who are fronting only the essentials and have traveled over 2,000 miles on foot. Looking back at The Bridge of the Gods, I realized we had now made it past the bulk of the Cascade Mountains from highly unknown terrain to places I have hiked since I was a child.


There is a level of satisfaction when you realize you've surprised yourself. My son and I had covered over 53 miles by ourselves, walked into unknown and now stood on familiar soil. It wasn't until now that I realized we'd really accomplished something.

I apologize for being out most of February. Sick has blown through our house infesting everyone from the pet, to the laptop, to the people. After a rather eventful late night emergency room visit, I have also been informed: 1) I am not pregnant WAHOO! 2) I do not have appendicitis, gall stones, liver failure, kidney disease, or a bladder infection 3) my medical insurance is RAD and 4) I have a medium to large sized ulcer. Yay! At the point they were giving me this information I couldn't have cared less, because I was so drugged up I couldn't keep the world from spinning. (Apparently when anyone asked me a question, I would respond "I'm really high right now.") On the plus side, I was no longer doubled over in crippling pain. All in all, a good trade off. Jules took a very flattering picture on his phone, but I will spare you from all the gorgeous details of the 2:30 am extravaganza.

At least I now know why my stomach is so touchy. Jules and I both believe I have had the ulcer for quite some time and just didn't realize. With how healthy our diet is, we figure it never really had a chance to "flare up." The end of January and February have been rather stressful, however, and I have never dealt with stress well.

So I'm now on meds and have been instructed to actively manage my stress. Hopefully March will be a bit more normal. The rest of our hike will be posted in the next day or so.

My son has just informed me there are soul sucking, crazed, teleporting scarecrows coming in from Idaho. I clarified that perhaps they would be coming from Iowa instead because that is where all the corn is. Nope, The Barracuda was very sure. Idaho. Mr. H, he wanted you to be aware of this and asked that if you did perhaps see any frightening scarecrows coming to life and beginning the process of teleportation, could you please send them to the East Coast. Apparently, you have some control over these things. Just in case, he is sleeping with his pocket knife and the dog.

Where does he get this stuff?

HCRHST stands for the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. My son and I are attempting his first end-to-end which turned out to be about 90 miles. For pictures and back story check out these links: Getting Ready, Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Pictures, and Progress.

The day away from Wyeth began quite well. We were up before the sun, had camp taken down before dawn and the snow had all but melted. Things were looking great other than a few rather water logged pools inside the tent which we hadn't seen before. I attributed this to the entire night of rain and large amounts of snow melt, but kept an eye on it. After another couple nights I began to watch where the water was coming in and it appears the undercoating on our tent has finally decided to bite the dust. After this trip, it is now relegated to backyard usage.

The majority of the morning from Wyeth was on flat-ish terrain and with no rainy weather, so we were pounding miles fast. We were paralleling the Columbia with relatively no elevation change in weather that was down right balmy feeling in the high forties. The pine trees had left us and we could actually see evergreens.

Wind mountain across the Columbia River. The foothills of the Cascades are outcroppings of small rounded mountains. Rather than a gradual ascent, they are more like small training runs before actually getting to the big stuff.

The ascent started to hit, and with it the scree slopes began to become the norm. Most of the snow had melted off by this point, but that only meant large quantities of water blowing out footbridges. The Barracuda hadn't had much experience with river crossings before this and quickly began to learn how to be confident, but swift of foot with the current.

The Barracuda's first river crossing. The bridge was completely blown and all we could see of it were a few 2x4's sticking up out of the water. He did well, and only fell into the water once the entire trip.
Due to the anabatic and katabatic winds of the Gorge, around early to mid morning you begin to walk through significant cloudline a bit lower than one would expect. The eerie cold air and decreased visibility bother some as they are not used to the fog sweeping in so quickly. The Barracuda and I personally find them quite enchanting and he commented that they reminded him of something out of The Chronicals of Narnia. I personally find them of the feel more like Tolkien's books, but either way, they give quite a mystical edge to any hike.

The Barracuda really liked watching the ecosystems change, first from the dry arid climate of the rainshadow to the damp evergreens, and then as we climbed to the barren scree slopes and towering basalt monoliths.

As we climbed, the spotty patches of snow became much more frequent and I took over the lead. The rocks seems to be mainly clear, but the trail was a great bench to collect any snow which had fallen from the above slopes. Crampons weren't needed (yet), but several times we were cautious and I was kicking steps. About three slopes in, the trail became completely obscured with icy snow and any steps which were kicked were significantly shallower than before. I ventured across, instructing The Barracuda to smash his heels down as hard as possible before planting his toes. Almost the entire way across I hear a scream from behind me and realize he has slipped. Up until this point, I hadn't properly known parental panic.

I quickly leaped out of the snow, ditched my pack and turned only to find him breathing heavily with a stick plunged into the ground. He had self arrested with the stick he was carrying and saved himself from a very disastrous and nasty slope. Sometimes all I can do is stare in awe of my child. He continues to be cooler than I have ever been. He had correctly flipped, rolled and plunged the stick he was carrying into the snow and then clung to it successfully all in a matter of seconds. We had discussed self arresting at home, as well as had him handle his father's ice axe, but we have never actually practiced figuring he was too young.

His face accurately illustrates the level of panic both of us were feeling. This was quickly shifted to excitement at his ability to keep his head and self arrest successfully. The picture was taken as he was calming down so I could come back out and drag him by his pack to safety.
After this eventful happening, it was all pretty smooth sailing. We covered ground quickly, but carefully and after a series of rise, fall and plateaus we found ourselves above cloudline and walking ridges before heading back down to sea level.

This hike showed me just how much I love The Gorge and the Cascades in the winter. My hiking experience was very limited this time of year as much of the hiking is rather unpredictable. However, it is far more beautiful.

Once the trail went back down, miles began flying even faster. We were getting hungry and had put in a good 7 miles on only our Luna bar breakfast. We couldn't stop yet, though. Not only was the trail not level enough to cook, but we had preset a trail intersection to be our break point and we weren't there yet. Occasionally when hiking we will take 2 or 3 minute breaks to have a drink and rest packs for a bit, but the only actual stopping place we have during our day is lunch. We eat for somewhere between 15 and 20 minutes and then hit the trail again until camp and dinner. Until we hit our stopping point we don't break, period.

The Barracuda is very keen on the fact that he doesn't get to whine and he doesn't get to stop. He has flat out been told he can, but that we are not going to. If he wants to stop, okay, but then he has to hike double fast to move the miles he has lost. This is not as preferable as keeping up. He has also found incredibly great ways to navigate distance through this. As we were descending, he realized he could see the exit signs on the Interstate if he used his monocule and this would give him an exact location that we were in. From that, he could see how much farther we had to go. Food is my son's best motivator.

Sometimes this investigating took him a bit off trail and up a rise or two, but he considered it worth it.

The map we had was chosen for a couple of reasons: 1) it was waterproof and a weird form of synthetic rip resistant plastic, 2) it seemed to contain a lot of good information quite well, and 3)it most importantly had both sides of the Cascades and covered the entire distance. I, for some reason, did not think about the fact that if it covered a long distance it wouldn't be as accurate in the specifics. At our trail intersection, there were supposed to be 5 trails which came together, and then a short jaunt till we hit our alternate connecting trail to the PCT. That didn't exactly happen. We ate and tried to orient ourselves. That should read, I tried to orient myself and failed a bit miserably. My visual spacial skills leave quite a bit to be desired. A trail was picked, and we headed off.

The connecting trail was supposed to be less than a mile by the look of things, but the map had been off by as much as a mile and a half in the past. We kept walking, kept talking, kept seeing great things.
This unnamed waterfall just plunged off the trail. It wasn't on the map, it just was there and HUGE. Water was filtered and The Barracuda threw in a few rocks.

The trail seemed to be taking forever and it was getting to be around 3 o'clock. We had maybe an hour or so of decent daylight left. Where was this stinking connector trail, or any trail. Then came the sign. Mark O Hatfield Wilderness, it read. Then came the cussing. Lots and lots of cussing. We had hiked a good 2 miles the wrong way. With darkness approaching we began to run back. I took The Barracuda's pack because he was having trouble and we raced to get back to the intersection. Once arrived, he took over the navigating. Unfortunately, the map was just plain unclear. We knew the trail we had come from, the wrong turn we had taken, but no other trail seemed to make sense. Time was clicking down.

We chose another likely candidate and headed off. No dice, the road split twice with no signs telling you what was going on. We turned back and tried another. Still not right. This one headed up hill and the topo specifically told us we needed to be loosing elevation. Back again. At this point I began to get a bit freaked out. We were lost.

There was more cussing. I cussed the map, and the trail. I cussed the time of year, and the sun, and the darkness, and my complete lack of ability to fix the situation. Then I became worried that dark was approaching and we couldn't locate where to go.

Trail magic is a funny thing. It speaks to the occurrence of extreme happenstance exactly when you need it. As trail magic would have it, two older gentlemen came up a bizarre side trail walking their dogs. Who walks their dogs in the middle of a National Forest off some weird side trail in the late afternoon as things are getting dark?!? They were locals and had never heard of the trail we were trying to find, but knew of the footbridge and how to get to the PCT. When they started to give me directions and I looked at them in complete bewilderment (I was so turned around at that point) they decided to take us their themselves. We went back down one of the places we came to previously, across a small unmarked jaunt, up three switchbacks and connected us to the sign pointing 1 mile to the PCT. The trail on my map was 405 E, the actual trail is 406 E. I honestly would never have found this connection in a million years, with all the daylight in the world. At this point I thanked Buddha, and Christ, and God, and Allah, and the Universe, any other deity which might exist somewhere that I had forgotten.

With darkness falling fast, we began walking double time. One mile seemed endless. The Barracuda was getting worried, I was getting a bit frantic. There was no where to put a tent if we wanted to. There was no way we could stop. Finally, it ended and we both squealed with delight. Headlamps were dawned and the tent was staked in the middle of the trail. At that point, anyone who was walking the PCT in January was just going to have to deal with it. We ate tortillas and cheese for dinner, read Call of the Wild and were so unbelievably thankful we didn't care that we were sleeping on rocks.

I have never been so thankful to see a sign in my entire life! The Barracuda put it best when he said, "I'm so thankful we have a place to sleep."

HCRHST stands for the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. My son and I are attempting his first end-to-end which turned out to be about 90 miles. For pictures and back story check out these links: Getting Ready, Day 1, Day 2, Pictures, Progress.

Day 3 in Hood River was our zero day. We didn't cover any miles, lazed around the hotel until 10:30 am and then headed to the library to spend some time out of the frigid air. Things were supposedly melting off, but someone forgot to tell that to Hood River. We were still on the west side of the Cascades and it just plain doesn't get warm there in January. However, the library was closed, permanently. Due to complete loss of funding, the building was no longer occupied and didn't look to reopen for at least another year while private funds were being located. I was shocked. It was quite the wake up call of what a bad economy can mean for a small community. There was quite a nice list of places in town one could make copies, use the Internet, and generally enjoy some time indoors. We picked a close coffee shop and went down there instead.

I'd like to throw a giant shout out to Dog River Coffee Company of Hood River. These guys have become a pillar of the community. They provide Internet access along with a computer to use, serve up tasty food, and now have a book swap since the library closed. What is more, after entering we saw the nice young teacher who gave us a ride. Dog River now allows her to tutor expelled students (who used to use the library) to get their GED's or get into the local community college. She was working with three or four kids when we came in. We said hi, warmed up, and used the Internet to check in. After a quick glance at the map and a discussion of where we were headed over the next couple days, it was off to some hot destinations. The toy store was first on The Barracuda's list. Next came the Taco del Mar. Finally it was off to the kid's playground.
Leave it to my kid to be completely undaunted by almost not having somewhere to stay the night before, a playground completely covered in snow, and freezing temperatures for the last 3 days.

As I watched my son play with complete carefree abandon, it became apparent I'd never fully actualized a zero day before. My previously, zero days had been spent sleeping in, resupplying, gorging myself on food, letting gear dry out and muscles relax. They were never spent playing, or wandering the town, or looking in bookstores. They were spent in sheer physical gluttony. The Barracuda spent his zero day enjoying everything he found wonderful - toys, coffee shop smoothies, snow, tacos, and the playground. He was completely unaffected by what had passed in the days before, the weight of his pack, the miles we had walked and the many ahead of us. When I got over marveling at his Zen level, I momentarily became disgusted by it, and then joined in and helped him build a snow castle/fort which we destroyed like Godzilla after it had been erected.

We headed back down to the coffee shop since we were completely frozen and I needed to more thoroughly plan our next couple days. We were almost out of the snow and entering warmer weather. Crossing the Cascades was two days ahead of us and we were going to begin our climb slowly over the next little bit. I knew that Rowena Crest, Mt. Defiance, and Starvation Creek lay before us and those were going to be some considerable obstacles for someone under 4 feet tall. However, when we got back to Dog River Coffee Company, we were informed there was no way we were going to be able to continue. Rowena Crest had been completely taken out by a large boulder and the road didn't exist unless we had technical climbing gear, Mt. Defiance had a major mudslide and had been closed, and Starvation Creek was flooded and washed out. Well....okay then.

A quick call to Jules, our Trail Angel. He would come up after work to bring us waterproof clothing and jump us to Wyeth (only 4 miles away). So we sat down, read Call of the Wild and The Barracuda enjoyed some toys they had. I was a bit discouraged at how choppy and crazed this trip was becoming. Nothing seemed to be going right. The Barracuda was quick to remind me that it was probably just as weird for Lewis and Clark since they didn't know where they were going to be either. They couldn't predict the weather. They had tons of stuff go wrong. They were at the mercy of circumstance as well. "But they made it," he assured me.

Dang Zen...It Gets Me Every Time

HCRHST stands for the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. My son and I are attempting his first end-to-end which turned out to be about 90 miles. For pictures and back story check out these other pages: Getting Ready, Day 1, Pictures, Progress.

When we awoke it was still dark and there were 8-10 inches of snow on the ground covered with an inch of ice from the freezing rain, but we made it! Camp was broken down as it was beginning to become light and we checked in with the larger Ranger. He didn't think we should continue. Jules didn't think we should continue. My father knew better than to tell me not to continue. Undaunted we headed up to Memaloose for a look at the view we missed yesterday.

Memaloose means "of the dead" in Chinook (a local tribe). Islands such as the one in this picture were the burial place for their people and were frequent in the Columbia before all the dams flooded them. The dead were wrapped and floated out on canoes to the islands as a final send off back to the water the Chinook relied on so heavily.
Memaloose is a famous place on the Oregon Trail as well as heavily mentioned by Lewis and Clark. The Barracuda greatly enjoyed using his monocular to look around at the eagles nesting, the tombs on the islands, and anything else he could possibly spy. He was quite excited to be standing in a place we had read about in Lewis and Clark's Journals and actually able to see one of the islands they found so disturbing. (I'd be disturbed too if I kept passing by islands with multiple dead corpses rotting on them for seemingly no reason).

This Brunton monocular was gifted to The Barracuda by our friends. It is RAD! I would whole-heartedly recommend it for anyone with adventurous kids. The Barracuda carried it the entire time and it came in quite handy. Thanks Laura and Jasper!

Our trip to Mosier was going to mean 3.5 miles backtracking and then another 10 for the day till we could get somewhere possible to camp. I honestly didn't know if The Barracuda could do it. The extreme weather advisory was still in effect and wasn't supposed to lift until the following day. Our packs were still heavy as very little food had been eaten and our journey would be uphill.

Thankfully, the crazy weather meant that Jules (and every other school district in The Gorge) had the day off. He threw chains in the truck, drove up to see us, and jumped us the 6 highway miles to Mosier. This was an incredible relief. We got coffee and ate at the only cafe left in Mosier and then headed out to Hood River. Whew! Crisis averted!

As Jules dropped us off at the trailhead from Mosier to Hood River, we ran into Matt Dewey again. He said hello, asked if we were going to continue, and gave us the weather report (freezing rain all day). I told him we were going to try and he shook his head. He'd opened the tunnels for us and given us a nice track to walk in so we weren't trudging through fresh snow.


Icicles the size of the Barracuda hang down menacingly from the ceiling of the tunnels as water drips through the mountain and freezes. These were a very exciting stop!

The Mosier tunnels are a five mile section of the old highway which was considered a major feat of construction back in 1915. Personally, I still think it is a major feat of construction. The tunnels were blasted straight through the mountain and the bridges were constructed contouring out over the basalt cliffs to give incredible views of the Gorge.

Looking back over our progress was a helpful venture for The Barracuda. He could physically see the Memaloose Islands we had been standing at earlier in the day. He also got a wonderful birds eye view of the Gorge which was quite impressive.

Along with the majestic tunnels were sets upon sets of tracks perfectly preserved in the snow by the freezing rain. Since the roadway is not able to support semi trucks or nearly the traffic of today's interstate, it is now only a walking, biking, and cross country skiing trail. With no cars allowed on the road, many animals use the pathway regularly without fear. Rabbit tracks, coyote tracks, elk tracks, small rodent tracks, bobcat tracks, deer tracks and more we couldn't identify were spotted all spotted. Pictures were taken for The Barracuda's nature journal and many were followed off into the side brush of the trail only to disappear.

Spirits were high as we trudged closer to Hood River. We weren't making amazing time due to the snow and the continuous freezing rain, but mostly due to all the great sights.

By the time we were 3/4s of the way to Hood River, the trials of the night before had been forgotten. The day had been a fun one and the weather was warming enough to not need balaclavas covering our faces as we hiked.

As we neared the end of the trail, it became apparent that my fabulous National Geographic, plastic, rip proof, water proof, swanky, GPS gridded map might not be the greatest judge of distance. It kept seeming like we should be at the end. Thankfully we ran into an at-risk high school science teacher and her dog, Mole the chocolate lab. She was cross country skiing the opposite direction and informed us there was only a mile left. As timing would have it, by the time we had covered that mile, she was returning and offered us a ride into Hood River. We gladly excepted.

She gave us the low down on Hood River, places to stay, the best coffee shops, what her students were doing. We told her about our trip, gave Mole treats, and thanked her readily for her kindness. She dropped us off at the Best Western and went along her way.

The weather had everyone holing up on the highway. Hotels were booked and not too happy to see people on foot with large backpacks and unclean clothes. They refused to take my cash without a credit card, wouldn't except Jules' because it wasn't in my name, and generally were kinda snotty. When another woman heard our trouble, asked if we were on foot and offered us a ride to another hotel in town in exchange for a road report. She was worried about the road, we were worried about a hotel, it worked out well.

The Hood River Inn was our next stop. It was the only place in town with a vacancy. I asked about their cheapest room and if they would take cash. The response was similar to the Best Western - they wouldn't take the card, they wouldn't take the cash, they only had a $150 suite left. It looked a bit hopeless. From the lobby we pulled out the map and scoured it for any campsites possible. Not a one. The closest was a state park down Interstate 84 about 5 miles with no way to walk other than on the shoulder. At this point it was 3:30pm and things were looking to get dark soon. I asked The Barracuda if he wanted to just call it quits. He was adamant he wanted to finish. So we loaded up our packs once again to head for the coffee shop to pay someone 20 dollars to take up down the highway to Viento State Park.

As luck would have it, the general manager (a very nice older woman) came through just then. She looked down at The Barracuda over her glasses with a smile and said, "My, that looks like a very heavy pack for someone your age. It's almost as big as you!"

Now is a good time to admit that my son has the charisma of a cult leader. People adore him and he can talk them into quite a bit when he wants to. He flashes his eyes, throws around a chuckle and a smile, it is obnoxious and borderline sociopathic. We are trying to teach him to use this power for good, rather than evil.

The Barracuda saw his moment of opportunity. He recognized her weakness. She didn't have much of a chance. I stood back to watch the show.

He dropped his little face, quivered his lip slightly, and gave her big puppy-dog eyes. "It is heavy," he said, "I don't understand why we can't stay here. We have money, but they said you wouldn't take it. Why can't we sleep just one night? We won't hurt anything." It was a masterful performance. The lady looked distraught. She gladly accepted Jules' credit card to cover the deposit stating "We probably won't even need it." The room's cost was dropped to "government rate" of only 75 dollars. We were given a large room with two beds and plenty of space to let gear dry out. I thanked them at least a dozen times, quickly signed the paperwork before anyone could change their minds and handed over most of our trip money.

Gear was strewn about the room to dry, the heater cranked up full throttle and The Barracuda promptly stripped down to watch cartoons for hours. Before bed we hit up the hot tub to rest sore muscles. It was awesome!

With another day down and a total 34.5 miles behind us, we slept well.

HCRHST stands for the Historic Columbia River Highway State Trail. The entire trail is not completed for bicyclists, nor does it run singularly as itself right now. You connect with multiple Forest Service trails in existence. By 2016 it is going to be opened as a contiguous paved bicycle path which runs from Portland to the Dallas.

Our hike began in the Dallas with looming bad weather on the horizon. The winter had thus far been so mild it didn't really bother me. The Columbia River Gorge is notorious for bizarre weather patterns and academic people flock to local universities from around the world to study it. Apparently a bunch of geological stuff all comes together in one place to effect the weather and that doesn't happen very often. Growing up here, it all seems normal. It's just The Gorge.

So we left from the Dallas, in the rainshadow of the Cascades. It was cold, but it is always cold there in January. The air was still dry then, as the day wore on it you began to smell the snow coming.
This was really hard for Jules. He has never left us out into the wilds before. His worry level was quite high, even with me armed with my cell phone. He was able to go home and commiserate with my father.
About 20 minutes in, The Barracuda announced "You're right, Mom, this is a lot of fun!" The Barracuda's experience road walking is quite slim since we normally keep to trails. Road walking has a significantly different feel, but he was quite thrilled with the Ponderosa pines, the cascades of frozen icicles along the road sides, the views of the Columbia we looked out upon.

The kid did the entire time we were out in a pair of Sorel puddle stompers we picked up from Goodwill. He's a beast!

The snow was not expected till somewhere around 5:30 that night and by 7 pm an extreme weather advisory was to come in effect. We had no way of knowing that as we walked, the weather was coming closer and the advisory being bumped up hour by hour.

A very nice woman stopped us along the road, concerned. She asked if we wanted a ride to which we responded no. So she handed over an old Stanley thermos of cocoa to The Barracuda. I explained that we would need to give it back to her since we were on foot and couldn't carry the poundage. She again looked concerned (we got this a lot by the end). We arranged to meet up with her before we crossed over the freeway to our campground to give her back the thermos. Apparently she was a photographer who was taking pictures of the ducks and would be down there anyway.

Hot chocolate raised the cold spirits of The Barracuda. Road walking isn't much fun and often begins to hurt the ankles at about 5 miles.

When we handed the thermos back over and began to walk toward the underpass, the woman became increasingly concerned and actually got out of her car to stop us. Apparently she thought I was going to try and cross the existing highway (an Interstate, with semi's) with my 6 year old while carrying heavy packs. Someone had tried to cross the highway on foot about a month before and it hadn't ended well. She insisted we let her drive us across. The Barracuda was tired, so we agreed. It wasn't until then that I heard the weather advisories on the radio. Snow was projected to hit any minute. It was only around 1:15. The day was hardly over for us.

The nice lady then proceeded to drive us over two miles further down the road to a campsite that she felt was better. It was well intentioned, but our quick jaunt of less than 1 mile across a highway had now become about 3.5 miles tacked onto tomorrow just to get us back on track.

There was no time to think about it, however, because as we were unloading our packs from her car the snow began to fall. It was about 1:30pm and we had to get a tent up fast. We followed the signs to the designated camping area, only to then see that it was closed for the season. If we wanted to legally camp we would have to hike the 3.5 miles back along the railroad tracks. There was just no way. The tent was pitched, The Barracuda went off to play, and I hiked back up to the rest area to fill the water bladder with scalding hot water from the rest rooms.

On the way back down to the campsite I was stopped by the Park Rangers. Matt Dewey was a nice young man, who we would see regularly over the next few days. Jules later became convinced he was in love with me, but Jules regularly becomes convinced of that with many people. Matt informed me the park was closed and we couldn't camp. He also wanted to know what I was doing camping with my son, in the Gorge, in the middle of January.

I explained we were homeschoolers, studying Lewis and Clark, this was close to the time of year they went through (they did it in November), we were heading to Troutdale on foot, a nice woman dropped us off here by mistake, we needed to get out of the weather. His look of "should I call the authorities on this person" quickly shifted to "WHAT?!" About that time another, larger Ranger began walking up the road with a concerned Barracuda.

Now is a good time to admit that I don't trust people, any people. For a long time after living with even Jules I had secret money set aside in case we needed to leave. There is no logical reason why I shouldn't trust any people, I just don't. Thankfully, Jules doesn't trust people either so he understands and it works.

At the sight of the Ranger with my son, my hand quickly went to my Spyderco and my face went dead. I took two steps back from the truck Matt was in, called The Barracuda over behind me and just stared at the two of them. Matt noticed my change and began back-pedalling fast. He called his supervisor to see if we would be allowed to camp that night and the other Ranger talked to us. He asked The Barracuda how old he was, commented on our gear, and asked how the trip was going. Our information was taken down and then made sure we had someone who could come get us if everything went wrong. They were both leery to leave, but we were granted until 9 am the next morning, and told they were going to come check on us to be sure we were out.

We ate at about 3:30, crawled into our sleeping bags and read Call of the Wild till around 5, and hugged the still warm dromedary. We were asleep by 6, but it didn't last long. Every 2 hours I awoke to knock the snow off the tent and keep it from collapsing. At the 9:30 I woke up to a whimpering Barracuda. His face was freezing, he couldn't sleep, and was having trouble staying warm. He crawled into my sleeping bag for us to share the rest of the night and the snow checks were bumped up to every hour and fifteen minutes. The freezing rain began around 3 am so I could sleep longer.
We only emerged from the tent to use the bathroom and all we could see was cold.
And so went our first night. I later found out the temperatures dropped somewhere between 8 and 11 degrees. With the crazy windchill it was definitely much, much lower. The campsite we were supposed to camp in (the one that was open) is an exposed site on right on the Columbia River. I don't know if our tent would have withstood the winds or if we would have been able to handle the cold had we not been taken to the wrong place.

I am a creature of habit. I like to do the same things in the same order over and over. I even like to eat the same things, in the same way, over and over. The Barracuda has a bit of this. When he likes something, he likes it and that just doesn't change. When something works for him, it works and that doesn't change either. As far as we are concerned, there is no reason for experimentation once you have found what works. Not so much Jules. Jules gets bored. Jules likes variety. So in order to make everyone happy, we go with the tried and true and then try to jazz it up a bit.

Enter the oatmeal.
Oatmeal is a great one for backpacking. It is light, rehydrates and heats in almost no time with very little water, and it is highly filling.

You can buy flavored oatmeal in a dozen or more flavors now, all prepackaged and such. The only problem is that it rarely only contains oatmeal, the packages are very messy when opened, and they are really darn expensive. You then stuck with a bajillion little wrappers to carry around with oatmeal powder gunk on them which inevitably gets wet and then you have oatmeal goo on everything. It's gross. I don't like it. So, much like everything else, we just make our own.

As a general rule of thumb, I packaged 1 cup of oatmeal and 1/4 cup of flavoring per person. This many seem like a lot, and initially it is. However, there is a turning point in any hike when you realize you are not able to consume enough calories. You become constantly hungry in the back of your mind. Even when your stomach is distended and you can't eat any more, you're still kinda hungry. At that point, 1 cup is about right. It fills you up, but doesn't slog you down.

The entire package gets opened and dumped into boiling water. I never measure how much water, I just add until the consistency is about correct. Everything rehydrates in less than 5 minutes. This is usually our lunch so that we can pound between 4 and 6 miles before eating at a nice stopping place. It is filling enough we can then pound another 6 before stopping to do dinner and bed.

The flavorings are simple enough: cranberry, blueberry, blackberry, and apple cinnamon. The cranberry and blueberry are just dried berries from the summer with a sprinkling of brown sugar added. By using jam and cinnamon applesauce we can also stretch oatmeal flavors with products on hand which have been presweetened, but don't contain high fructose corn syrup.

Dehydrating jam and applesauce are a bit of a pain. Luckily you don't need very much. Pour the contents out onto the fruit leather tray of your dehydrator. I tried waxed paper here and it was a complete fail. The plastic fruit leather thing is the way to go.










The Barracuda wants to try strawberry, but I personally think that sounds nasty. I'll probably cave and we can give that one a go, too.
Dehydrate at 145 degrees for a good 14 hours or more. You want them to look like fruit leather and then dehydrate another 8 hours so they are incredibly brittle.

At this point I peeled the blackberries off, ground them up and then dehydrated them again for another 8 hours. They just wouldn't stop being incredibly tacky feeling.

Once they dry out to the point they are stiff or crumbling (or you are just so sick of them you never want to deal with them again), you can package them safely without worry of mold. You want to pulverize the fruit into either small chunks or fine powder in a food processor. If the fruit is in larger pieces it will not rehydrate as fast as the oatmeal and you will either be left with extremely stretchy oatmeal or crunchy fruit. I often will throw in bits of dried apple rings with the apple cinnamon oatmeal as well to give it some added texture.

For the adventurous, you can mix and match your flavors however you would like. Any more than 1/4 cup of any flavoring to 1 cup of oatmeal is a bit overpowering, however.

These are all packaged in mylar and labeled. The mylar can be reused indefinitely and is water tight so you can rehydrate while moving if necessary. This works well when you are freezing. You cut the package open, boil the water and then let it cool till scalding. Add the water to the package and reseal with duct tape. Place the package inside your shirt and walking will gently stir and rehydrate while keeping you warm. Any left overs can also be safely stored in the mylar, duct taped shut, and eaten later in the day. We bring the mylar home, wash and reuse. Since it statics shut, the food residue powder doesn't really come out.

We do not oxygen absorb our backpacking food. For one, it is more weight and two it is really expensive. If we were planning on packaging for months in advance we probably would just to ensure freshness.

The Bad
Yesterday we had to put the cat down. Princess Bell Bell had a traumatic life before Jules rescued her from a shelter in Georgia. She traveled with him across the country and was very much his girl. However, she has had skin issues for years and neurotically licked herself. About a year ago she was pulled off all grains thinking it was an allergy and that seemed to help. Then had a complete freak out resulting in steroids to get her to stop attacking her skin. After that, she never seemed to quite heal.

The Ugly
She developed mites. They went undetected by the vet for quite some time and eventually I turned to the Internet to try and figure out what she had. At a certain point, they can't be cured and the pet has to be put down. Mites are one thing that I never want to learn more about. Apparently (and disgustingly!) they are constantly on our pets and even us with no one really knowing much about it. It is only when the immune system gets suppressed or when the populations get extremely high that there are nasty break outs. Once there is a break out, it is extremely contagious. Eeew!

The cat gave them to the dog. Only in a small place and it can be treated since we caught it right away. However, it means the entire house has to be washed, disinfected, completely scrubbed.

The Good

Last night and early this morning, things weren't looking good for the dog. I had applied tea tree oil to the patch of skin on her back which was infested. She was bathed and then Neem oil applied. We have given her tea tree before and had no issues, but late last night she began slight muscle tremors and then couldn't walk. She was lethargic, though alert and seemed to be fine other than her back legs. Apparently, she got mild tea tree poisoning. Thankfully she is now up, eating, and has even gone for a walk. She is actively trying to kill the squirrels in the front yard, though still being tender with her left foot. Guadie seems to be 85% better and on the mend.

THANK GOD!

Jules and I have always had the decided consensus that we will not breed fear into our child. He can go play where we can't see him, within reason. He can climb large objects, with a bit of climbing knowledge. He can stay home by himself if we are only gone for a bit, as long as he has a cell phone and doesn't open the door. He can play near the water without a life jacket, as long as he can tread water. He personally owns his own axe, BB gun, tent, and Spyderco all of which he can use himself quite proficiently.

He is going to scrape himself up, has cut his body a few times, has been pulled out of a pool by an adult with all their clothes on, and has already achieved a handful of concussions. But he also has a really great sense of his own limitations and the confidence to try things which most kids would be concerned over. One of the better developments is his caution about panicking when he realizes something isn't working out well; he merely asks for help and begins talking himself down. This has meant a few bizarre situations: Getting wedged 3+ feet off the ground between the our fence and the neighbor's fence, jumping on a bed till dizzy enough to gash his head open, getting his pants caught at roof level on the wrought iron fretwork out front, slapping himself in face with a spatula so hard there was a major mark for days, hanging from a tree feet from the ground by only his shirt, running full force into a cabinet door hard enough to slice his head open. He is definitely my son. I was an emergency room kid.

Luckily, we have only had to go to the emergency room once and it was an incredibly extreme situation with a very, very young Barracuda. When your child cries blood, you go to get pediatric facial stitches!

Our ability to hand most medical situations is due to a very hardcore first aid kit at the house and an all purpose outdoor first aide kit whenever we venture into the forest. We use the same outdoor first aid kit whether we are going to cut firewood or just day hiking. With the track record of our son, it seems highly irresponsible to do any less.

Regular first aide kits seem to lack items for serious bleeding, stitches, burns, infections, and adequate medication. They are all just far too generic. They have to be. How can the designers of the kit have any idea about your personal needs? Jules calls them "Boo-Boo kits," because all they really fix are the small "boo boos." So, we built our own designed to our specific needs.

Jules is in charge of this area of our lives. I take care of outdoor food; he takes care of outdoor safety. If you are interested in building a first aid kit for a specific personal situation, check out Nut 'n' Fancy's YouTube feed (search Level 1 first aid kit, and if you're really digging it his entire Level 2 series). Be warned, this dude is HARDCORE and really, really knows his stuff. He will tell you more than you ever wanted to know, but should know if you are compiling something which could save your life.

Click on Image to Enlarge
After 3 different colors, green seemed to show the best. This is designated as a Level 1 kit. We have one outdoor kit, one in each of our cars, and a level 2 kit at the house.

Our first aid kit is laid out in a triage fashion. Items are bagged by the escalation of the injury. Each of these lists is in its own bag. In this way, you don't have to go crazy, dump everything out, and then try and figure out a way to put it all back.

The bags are resealable clear mylar. They are military grade communications pouches which are waterproof and exceptionally durable. You can purchase them on Ebay. The smaller inner bags are just little dime baggies.

Minor Issues
Medication:

10 dosages of Advil - Jules thinks Advil cures everything. It does work to kill swelling and any kind of pain.

8 dosages 800 milligram Tylenol - These are the serious pain meds that don't actively conflict with much other meds if they are necessary.

8 doses Midol - This is the best over counter muscle relaxant there is. My athletic trainers used to hand it out without telling the guys what it was. It's mild enough to not cause you to sleep, but eases muscle cramping.

6 doses Imodium - Dude, food poisoning sucks when you really need to walk a good 10 miles.

6 doses Sudafed - Sudafed kicks the snot out of cold symptoms.

6 doses Mucinex - Mucinex is amazing at clearing up your head and lungs from crud.

4 doses Clariton - There have been two or three times that unexpected allergies have knocked Jules and I down. These will take the edge off enough that you can hopefully get out of the situation.

You may notice there are not childrens medication. This is due to The Barracuda being allergic to a filler placed in most over the counter kids meds. Taking OTC meds induces vomiting, hives, and skyrocketing fever. He would rather suffer, than take something and suffer more. We focus on herbal medicine at home.

Band-Aids:

6 butterfly - These work best on fairly severe cuts around curves (ears, nose, fingers, feet)

6 small - These are for those annoying issues which aren't going to do you any actual damage, but more cause you to hate your life because they just hurt. They are also sized just right for small people.

6 medium - As far as bandages go, these are the go to. Minor cuts and scrapes on hands, fingers and feet.

4 extra large - These must be purchased separately than the multi-pack box. They are big enough you could pad the wound with a 2 inch gauze pad to cover a fairly deep wound.

10 feet of Duct Tape - This is wrapped around itself and folded up all compact. Duct Tape is great when you notice rubbing on your feet or some other area. It is sticky enough to not come off and can be used to prevent future injury. Plus, it's Duct Tape - what can't it do?

1 Strip Moleskin - Used for developed blisters to remove pressure.

3 2nd Skin Patches - Burst and open blisters or burns.

I have highly, highly sensitive skin. I break out in a rash from Windex. Jules fertilized the yard and two days later when The Barracuda and I were playing in it I broke out in hives which lasted 4 days. I just plain don't go near chemicals. We believe natural products are better, but honestly, I can't really use much else. Jules could survive walking through nuclear winter style radiation. If you know of products which work for you, go for it. Even expensive "hypoallergenic" stuff causes me problems.

Miscellaneous Creams and Oils:

Neosporin - Standard low-grade infection prevention and healing. Be sure to wrap it in electrical tape due to heat and cool causing it to burst. If you wrap it up this can prevent explosion all over the other stuff. Not really the end of the world, but gross.

100% Tea Tree Oil - 1 half ounce vial. This is hardcore infection prevention and killer where only a little goes a long way. Its anti-fungal, anti-viral, anti-bacterial, anti-septic, anti-everything. It is also a natural thing which won't harm the wound, cause me to break out, be too harsh for our child, and can be used externally everywhere. It has personally killed a staph infection on myself which Jules was on 3 rounds of meds and in and out of the doctors office for.

Vitamin E Lotion - Jason 25,000 I.U's of Vitamin E Age Renewal Moisturizing Cream. This is wonder gunk. I don't even know how it works, but any skin issue it takes care of amazingly fast. Rashes, irritation, chap, blisters, swelling, hives, peeling skin, bites, sore feet or muscles, etc. Once the heat has been removed from a burn it takes care of it brilliantly. It also doesn't go bad and is safe to use on my highly sensitive skin and The Barracuda.

6 Alcohol Swabs - Basic alcohol swabs for quick cleaning and sterilizing tools for use.

Sprains and Stitches

10 feet 3M Porous Medical Tape - In our house, this is called stitches tape. By cutting small sections and pinching a fairly serious cut shut, it can seal it. Think butterfly bandages on steroids. The Barracuda has had me use stitches tape on him at least 3 times. It has prevented many a trip to the hospital and I am highly impressed with its effectiveness. It won't close a sucking chest wound, but man it's good. It can also be used to hold on gauze in an area where the skin needs to breathe. We keep it wrapped around a slice of an old credit card.

5 feet First Aid Athletic Tape - Standard white waterproof tape used to splint sprains or support broken fingers or toes. This is also wrapped around a slice of an old credit card.

Swiss Army Knife - Just a small one to cut the tape as needed.

Severe Injury

3 Tefla Prebandage - This goes onto the wound before gauze in order to prevent ripping the wound back open with removal. The prebandage stays in places and allows the wound to breathe.

3 Giant Adhesive Bandage - These are 4x6 and designed to cover the gauze and contain moderate bleeding. Basically a giant Band-Aid.

3 4x4 Sterile Gauze Pads - Standard gauze for moderate bleeding. Before applying gauze read up on basic aid training as more damage can be done to a wound if used incorrectly. All good intentions can actually wind up hurting someone instead.

3 5x9 Surgipads - These are serious bleeder situations. They are designed to contain major blood loss. If you are using these, the goal is to physically remove someone as fast as possible or they are going to die.

Suture Kit - This is used in self rescue types of situations to close a gaping wound. Something has definitely gone wrong. This is another one of those situations that if you are pulling it out you've gone through every other option and someone is not going to make it. Don't carry this if you don't know how to use it. It's another situation you can do way more harm than good if used incorrectly.

I honestly thought Jules was a bit over reactionary when he put the first IFAK bag in my car. Three or four uses patching our son back together and I'm now sold. We need to add some burn gel and some Derma glue, but all in all it works pretty well. Like anything, it is still evolving as we go. Every kit should be personalized, this is just our take.


The entire kit weighs 8 ounces which makes it doable to carry around for just about anything outdoors that we need.