Have You Hydrated Enough Today?

"Excuse me, sir! do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior depicted in the Piss Christ?" Immersion, more commonly known as Piss Christ, by Andres Serrano, is a 1987 photograph of a white crucifix submerged in an aquarium of the artist's own urine. Although it won several awards, its merit was criticized by both art critics and people of faith. But the artistic and theological value of the piece, and I think it has both, is irrelevant. What I find truly problematic about Serrano's Piss Christ is that the artist's urine has the same coloration as a bowl of Spaghetti-O's. 

Based on urine color analysis, I live and move and have my being in a constant state of dehydration. I seem to fancy myself part camel with an ability to go super long periods without consuming water. But as my latest blood work revealed, I am, in fact, only human and my kidney function is what the doctor calls, "below average." I need to drink more water. 

Drinking water is excellent. It's good for us in like a gazillion different ways. Notably, when I drink enough, my urine doesn't come ripping out of my urethra as a flaming, stinking, marigold-colored mess. That, and my recent doctor's visit, is why I decided to drink more of it. And while I don't think I'm ready to post on the hydrohomies subreddit yet, I have made changes in the last couple of months that keep me peeing clear. 

SIDEBAR: upon actual research, it is possible to overhydrate before and during endurance activities. Despite the dictum of "clear and copious," the ideal color of your urine is straw-yellow. See chart above.

I try to maintain a 1:4 coffee-to-water ratio. That means for every 8 oz of coffee, I try to drink 32 oz of water. This is absolutely arbitrary and not backed by science in any way. Maybe it is, I don't know. I could Google it but I won't because it works for me. 

I started substituting apres-ride/climb/work beer for seltzer water. Post your favorite LaCroix flavors in the comments below. I like it plain and Key Lime if I'm feeling like mommy's little fancy boy. And if I'm hitting harder stuff, mango-flavored White Claw is the nectar of the gods.  

But these aren't things you couldn't learn from any self-help and wellness influencers on TikTok. That is to say that these aren't things you didn't know already. And this isn't a blog about home and work. It's a blog about [insert human-powered endurance activity here].

WARNING: It's about to get real techy up in here. TL;DR for the non-gear junkies, the triumvirate of backcountry hydration is this: (1) Katadyn Steripen, (2) Nalgene Ultralite, and (3) Arundel Looney Bin.

When it comes to hydrating in the backcountry, nothing beats the Katadyn Steripen Ultra UV Water Purifier. I bought mine with a pro deal back in 2013 and have used it on every backpacking trip. Every bikepacking adventure. Every rock climbing road trip. Cost-per-use, this baby has paid for itself multiple times. I don't know why I never considered it for shorter day hikes, bike rides, or days at the crag until now. Yet here we are, and it rules. The Steripen is light (4.9 oz) and uses ultraviolet light to purify 32 oz of water every 90 seconds. That means you'll be guzzling the good stuff while your rube friends are still pumping and squeezing and sucking through whatever archaic water purification system they still use. I have safely and successfully purified water from the clearest high country creeks to murky, stagnant ponds. Giardia free since twenty-thirteen. I try not to overcommit myself to any brand or product, but this is a hill I am willing to die on. If you go places outside that require drinking more water than what you bring with you, then you need a Steripen. 

My favorite water-carrying vessel is the Nalgene. Everyone has a Nalgene. I prefer the Ultralite (48 oz or 32 oz) not because I'm an ounce-counter, but because I like the bland non-color and the plastic is a little softer and more malleable for fitting into a bicycle bottle cage. What's that you say? "A bottle cage that fits a Nalgene?!" 

Yes, the Arundel Looney Bin and it's my new favorite piece of gear. A bottle cage big enough for a Nalgene that does not rely on Voile straps, what's not to love? The Looney Bin has enough room even for a big ol' wine bottle (though that might offset your hydration gains). The turn knob ratchet strap keeps my Nalgene secure on even the loosest, baby head-sized, rough stuff descents. The Looney Bin will be on all my bike builds from now on. 

With this holy trinity of hydration, I will never go thirsty again. Glory be to the Steripen, and to the Nalgene Ultralite, and to the Arundel Looney Bin, as it should have been in the beginning, is now, and will be forever, a world without dark yellow pee-pee. Amen.  

Have you hydrated enough today?

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Not My Words: On Staying Warm

There's something special about imbibing around a campfire with your friends on a cold winter night. After the conversation lulls and woodpile dwindles, it's time to get in your sleeping bag. The key to sleeping outside in the winter is that it is easier to stay warm than it is to get warm. Layering clothes, stacking sleeping pads, and putting a Nalgene of boiled water in your sleeping bag are all tricks of the trade. Eventually, however, you'll have to pee. Herein lies the problem: dehydration strains the body's ability to stay warm, but your body also expends energy to store urine in the bladder. Valuable energy that could otherwise be used to keep you warm. Timing is everything. See chart above. Here's a scene from one of my favorite episodes of The Simpsons. I thought about it a lot while making this chart. 

-- The Simpsons, "Homer the Heretic" (Season 4; Episode 3)

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The Future of Climbing

You've seen it. The local university outdoor club leaders going to bolt-to-bolt on the cliff's only moderate routes. The conga line of colorfully clothed gumbies waiting impatiently to top rope for the next several hours. The hammocks all flapping about like the sails of a hippie pirate ship. The "Mother of God! It's all toilet sounds!" music blasting from Bluetooth speakers. We've all seen it. Heard it. Heck, we've probably been a part of it. 

Last December, the Access Fund distributed an email with a picture of a similar scene at the Orange Oswald Wall near the New River Gorge. It asked, "Is this the future of climbing?" You probably remember the now-viral traffic jam of over 300 climbers on the Hillary Step of Mount Everest (if you don't, watch 14 Peaks on Netflix). Whether Ten Sleep, Wyoming, Sand Rock, Alabama, or the highest peak on earth, the problem of overcrowded crags isn't the future of climbing, it is the present reality. 

Climbing advocacy groups like the Access Fund and local climbing coalitions have two competing goals. On the one hand, they seek to increase access to an activity that is relatively exclusive. On the other, these groups seek to decrease the negative impact rock climbers have on the environment. These effects are infinitesimal compared to, say, a coal-fired powered plant but with rock climbing in the Olympics, Alex Honnold at the Oscars, and the proliferation of big business climbing gyms, more people are at the crag than ever before. The effects are noticeable. To be clear, I think these goals are inherently good. Diversity, inclusion, and the longevity of cliff base vegetation matter. But, like a good toprope anchor, these goals are opposite and opposed. It doesn't take a nihilistic alcoholic rocket scientist to know that more people climbing means more impact on the environment. Morty, meet pickle. 

It's a dilemma, but it isn't one without solutions, even if I personally do not know what those solutions are. Thankfully the fine people over on the Mountain Project forums do. 

Mountain Project posters with predictable profile pictures have taken it upon themselves to determine who does and does not have access to America's rock climbing, i.e., "gatekeeping." And it is almost always those who started climbing after the gatekeepers that do not deserve access. It's an ingenious idea that certainly would, if implemented, have positive results on our climbing areas. No new climbers! The implementation is the tricky part. Who's let in the gate? What year does one have to have started climbing? How established in the scene does one need to be? Are people who climb above a certain grade grandfathered in?  

Instead, I would like to propose an alternative to these Mountain Project posters, an alternative far easier to implement and far more effective for protecting wild spaces. Just stop climbing. Quit it. Walk out of that gate you made and leave it behind. I mean, when you took the photo of the overcrowded crag and complained about it at the bar later, were you not also there, crowding the crag? And when the boulder field parking lot was full, did you go somewhere else or did you park on the shoulder and work on your sick project anyway? It seems to me that the most responsible thing for a climber to do for the future of climbing is to quit climbing. 

There are so many other hobbies to choose from! Have you ever tried meditating? Trail running? Becoming a sommelier but instead of wine, you become an expert in Danimals® Kids Yogurt & Smoothies? Other such "hobbies" may include but are not limited to...

• reading
• baking
• knitting
• competitive duck herding
• watching Lord of the Rings: Return of the King 362 times
• Magic the Gathering
• open water swimming
• semi-professional stone skipping
• weightlifting
• staying more hydrated
• hog calling
• LARPing 
• bird watching
• mowing the yard with a pair of fingernail clippers

Each is as arbitrary and momentarily rewarding as on-sighting 5.12 or finally sending your boulder project. These hobbies are less time-consuming than volunteering with a local climbing coalition to conserve wildlife or working with land managers to preserve access. And each is far easier than mentoring a new climber in the ways of Leave No Trace principles, crag etiquette, and safe climbing practices. Ugh, creating an actual sustainable future for rock climbing is so much work! 

Protect America's climbing. Stop climbing and start being a Danimals® sommelier. 

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Not My Words: Cowboys, Capitalism, and Corruption

BLM and open-range land near Cañon City, CO 

Every January, I walk my A.P. U.S. Government students through the concept of "iron triangles." It is the policy-making relationship between congress, bureaucratic agencies, and special interest groups. E.g., an interest group will give money to a congressional campaign in return for friendly legislation and so on and so forth. Iron triangles are generally considered detrimental to democracy because the common good is ignored for special interests. Christopher Ketcham's This Land is a deep dive into the destructive relationship between corporate cattle farming, Congress, and federal agencies like the U.S. Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management. As one chapter's epigraph reads: "The real history of the western livestock industry is a country mile from our idealistic cowboy fantasy..." 

"Everything I thought about cows as an Easterner-come-west is wrong. They are not symbols of a noble culture of mounted herdsmen. They are not cute. They are invasive species, Bos taurus, a water-loving European animal not fit for arid climates, and their cancer-like effects on the land have not ceased. The fatal error of the [The Establishment of Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument] was that it continued to allow cattle grazing. This was for political expediency, to quiet the opposition of cattle interests. There is no way to square that decision with the science of botany. How can you preserve a wild and unspoiled landscape with a ruinous alien bovine on it? You can't. It's an impossibility, an absurdity." -- Christopher Ketcham, This Land: How Cowboys, Capitalism, and Corruption are Ruining the American West (2019)

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12 Months Sleeping Outside

Suck Creek Canyon and the Tennessee River Gorge

Sleeping outside is good for you. Evidence? Oh, so you’re Mr. Science Guy now. Here’s a sentence from the Journal of Environment and Behavior that’ll make you absolutely want to scrape your eyeballs out: 

“Analysis revealed a positive, linear association between the density of trees and self-reported stress recovery, adjusted R² = .05, F(1, 149) = 8.53, p < .01.” 

STEM ruins beauty. Compare that to this poem by Wendell Berry:

"I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free." 

I spent the year trying to regularly, once a month, rest in the peace of wild things and it was liberating. This dumb little goal helped me feel a lot more like myself but I have no evidence to prove it and also I'm no poet. So here's some beauty-ruining data and crappy iPhone photos from a year of sleeping outside once a month. 

Figure 1

I did not sleep outside in February or August. Mid-February, Rebecca and I took our first trip away since the pandemic started. Ultimately, because of COVID restrictions, we really just did the same thing we do in Chattanooga, except in a cabin in the woods. We went for hikes, watched T.V., got dinner out, brought it back to the house, and ate. R.V. people call that "camping" so it's on the list but is not included in the subsequent data. August is just terrible and I didn't even try to sleep outside. Who cares? Not me. 

I wrote trip reports for a few of these, which you can read HERE. 

Russ vintage mountain bike-packing through north Florida pine forests

Figure 2

Ten out of 11 trips were with friends. I think that speaks for itself. I also appreciate the variety of folks I was able to share these spaces with; ranging from my life-long best friend, Russ to Reid and Leah and their one-year-old daughter. Max and Brooks take the cake for most trips (Max was part of the King Family Campout). 

Max riding out of the fog in Prentice Cooper State Forest

Figures 3.a and 3.b

Getting outside doesn’t have to be complicated. “Aim small, miss small.”80% of these monthly adventures were overnighters within an hour or two of home. This is pretty easy in a town like Chattanooga and I'm thankful for that. But I think that a lot of us can find these small adventures near our respective towns. 

adventure from the front door somewhere on Lookout Mountain

Figure 4

83% of nights slept outside were on public land. Public land conjures images of dense forests and spacious deserts managed by the US Forest Service or  Bureau of Land Management but let's not forget about our state parks! State parks get a bad rap, I think, because, well honestly, they can be bougie and touristy and feature things like zip lines and golf courses. But some of our iconic outdoor spaces are our state parks: Eldorado Canyon in Colorado or Cloudland Canyon in Georgia. What incredible resources we should protect. 

Becca overlooking Savage Gulf at the South Cumberland State Park

Figure 5

2021 was the year of bikepacking. This was by design as part of the reason I set this goal was to bikepack more. A note on the "other:" this includes car-camping with Rebecca's family and sleeping in my parent's backyard. 

all that bikpacking and only one flat...

Figure 6

I slept outside for years, months at a time even, without owning a tent. Cowboy or cowgirl or cowperson camping is the purest form of sleeping outside and it’s in my blood. I finally bought my first nice tent back in 2018 and I got some good use out of it this year but I still prefer no separation between me and the open air. Again, I want to emphasize the point that camping doesn't have to be complicated. Camping tentless is lighter, simpler, and in my opinion, better. 

Brooks cowperson camping in Suck Creek Canyon

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