Every time I pull myself dripping with sweat, muscles screaming in pain, to the top of another peak, I start dreaming about what I will make for dinner. After six hours of hiking uphill gaining near five thousand feet of altitude all I can focus on is when will I have another meal that is …
To this day I cannot eat a Cliff Bar. I blame THAT on the Sierras. Altitude sickness is no fun. Neither is explosive diarrhea 15 miles from the nearest bathroom. Oh believe me, I lived through that shit. Literally. It began with a backpacking trip in Southern California. Sounds simple enough. Add 6 friends. Try hiking …