Doing it – the actual “research”: traveling the trails, talking with folks along the way, and cooking, sleeping and dreaming in the huts – was magical. And while writing intensively to meet the manuscript deadlines was a welcome project during the pandemic, scribbling field notes daily in huts and on trail was more fun! The book, tentatively titled Hut-to-hut in the USA: a guide for walkers, skiers, bikers and dreamers will be published by Mountaineers Books in fall 2021.
After 4 years of intensively studying huts and building a website, I shifted gears in 2018, putting the website on hold and focusing on filling in the blanks and organizing what I’d already learned. I wanted to shape it into a substantive introduction for Americans to the idea and reality of hut to hut traverses. Altogether, writing the book was a marvelous outdoors, logistical, social and intellectual adventure! Now, with the manuscript submitted and copy-edited, the hardest parts are done. I’m indulging in some reflection on the process. Here is an uncharacteristically personal account of the project that has been keeping me busy the past two years.
Proposing a partnership
The book idea germinated on a backpacking trip in Yellowstone in August 2017. After the trauma of my Dad’s decline and death and mom’s sad move from Minnesota to be with my sister, my partner Laurel and I embarked on a six-week head-clearing trip out west. While we spent days hiking, swimming, and relaxing in and around our backcountry camp at Heart Lake, I reflected on my immersion in hut studies. I had visited most US hut systems, written dozens of articles, trip reports, and operational profiles. Perhaps inevitably, after 45 years as an academic librarian – it became clear that I wanted to write a book!
I’d never written a book. Writing — though I do a lot of it –, is not my strongest suit. But I happen to be married to a voracious reader, clear and efficient writer, and ace editor. Could I persuade her to join me?
After all, she was my eager, constant, and capable companion in planning and travelling hut-to-hut around the world. One afternoon as we lounged in a hot spring infused, mineral-rich creek, I told her about the book idea. I carefully proposed an equal partnership in writing the first book to paint a picture of huts in the USA. Newly retired, did she have some big projects in mind? If not, since she’d be coming on the trips anyway, why not enter into the “research”? Ever the incrementalist, she responded, “You don’t even have a publisher yet. Ask me again when you have one.” That was enough. On return home I sent out a query letter and developed a detailed book proposal; Laurel reviewed it and made suggestions. I selected Mountaineers Books (Seattle) – a non-profit with author-friendly copyright policies, and the oldest US publisher of guidebooks. Moreover, they were the best choice because I’d discovered — while spending a day in the stacks in the mountaineering section at Harvard’s Widener Library — that they have a history of publishing substantive books introducing new outdoor recreation forms to American audiences. Laurel and I then took off for three months in New Zealand. Emerging from a glorious week-long traverse among the historic huts of Kaharanghui National Park, there was an email saying the Mountaineers agreed a book on American huts was needed.
By then Laurel had warmed to the idea and agreed to partner on the project with one proviso, “I won’t enter into your world as a hut nut.” That was fine with me. One fanatic is enough.
Two years of “research”
Our research protocol was simple: study maps, trek every system in the mode for which it is best known, talk with lots of people along the way, read everything relevant. Basically try to get a full sense of each hut system.
We hiked, skied and biked more than 620 miles, touring more than 20 hut systems in a dozen states. The continuous planning and navigation of trips was occasionally intense, but what a great way to see the country and meet lots of interesting people! Along the way we visited family and friends and occasionally participated in Sierra Club Service Trips, for which Laurel is camp cook. We re-visited all the hut systems we’d previously experienced over the years; and in the end we visited half of the hut systems two or more times. Except in the three largest systems, we were able to visit every hut and ski most of the trails. Talking with the owners/operators was especially informative, and we have now personally met all of these great pioneers in American recreation! We learned the stories of how these systems came to be and met many founders. We recruited friends and family to join us, benefitting from their unique perspectives.
Along the way we met lots of folks in huts, on trail, on the road, in coffee shops and bookstores, etc. Many asked, “Have you hiked this trail or seen this cabin, or have you met so-and-so?”. These chance meetings, suggestions and introductions created a rich trail of bread crumbs. We happily followed these to some really cool people and places, and got a peek into many interesting subcultures around the country. The mountain communities in particular were woven with tight knit connections. These led to gatherings in coffee shops and over meals to talk about how these towns had forged trail systems, trail networks, and hut systems. We learned that backcountry ski hut systems were often developed as alternatives to the overwhelming commercialism of destination ski resorts. And gratifying to see how much support they had from locals.
US huts offer both “by-the-bunk” and “exclusive use” reservations. We generally prefer by-the-bunk systems because we happen to like the unique “communal living” aspect of sharing space with fellow travelers that we’ve never met. We frequently end up sharing meals, playing games, and trading stories. And we almost always learn about something about why people trek, why they like (or occasionally don’t like) huts, and about other huts, trails, parks and places to visit. Many folks expressed interest in our research, and occasionally invited us to give impromptu talks or lead a discussion about huts. But mostly it was just informal, mealtime or after-dinner conversation. Reservations are hard to get in the Rendezvous Huts, but a family kindly agreed to share their hut with us. This made our traverse much easier. We were traveling with Leyton Jump, who works with the USA’s only all-volunteer hut system (Mt. Tahoma Trails Association). It turned out this sweet family helps operate an all-volunteer hut system, Tetrahedron Huts, in British Columbia, and we had lots to talk about. In the AMC huts a trekker urged us to develop a code of ethics for hut operators and publish it in the book. Talking with staff in the full service huts, mostly young people, was another great way to learn about how people use and respond to huts.
After each trek — or after several in a row — we usually treated ourselves to a few days (or more!) in an AirBNB or hostel to wash clothes (and ourselves), rest, and write up our notes. At the foot of Blanca Peak in SW Colorado we stayed in a remote, rambling old farmhouse for three days, sharing some meals with the owner, and working all day at the big round kitchen table, surrounded by magical light and views of the peak. Our favorite AirBNB ever! In less remote rest stops, we visited local libraries, historical societies, chambers of commerce, bookstores, coffee shops and bars as part of our research. Salida and Breckenridge Colorado, and Winthrop, Washington in the Methow Valley stand out among our rest stops! One great pleasure was getting to know more of the remarkable folks who operate US hut systems. They are a talented and inspirational group!
Trials and tribulations, learning curves and lotteries
We fit the profile of our audience, “folks of above average fitness, possessing a spirit of adventure, and solid backcountry skills.” We are strong hikers and love to ski; but not experienced long distance bikers. So I borrowed a mountain bike and spent a summer getting into shape for a wonderful five day, 165 mile ride with my brother on the San Juan Huts Telluride to Moab gravel ride. Alas, due to my inexperience I took only some of the awesome single-track options offered by this route.
Above: San Juan Huts bike route: well stocked pantry, a hut on wheels (in case of forest fire), and our bunk mates who joined us on the ride.
Skiing was the biggest challenge. We quickly realized we were in for more skiing than expected and some on quite steep terrain. Our many years of cross-country skiing had been mostly on small hills and fairly flat terrain in the Northeast and Midwest. Preparing for a trip on intermediate level traverses in the Tenth Mountain Division Hut System it became clear that our skiing skills (and especially Laurel’s) were barely up to some of the more challenging backcountry skiing in the Rockies. Wisely we hired a guiding service for the first time in our lives. Donny and Jimbo of Paragon Guides helped us navigate a four-day version of the Tenth Mountain’s Haute Route. Laurel bailed halfway through the third day, but I managed to make it up the final 3,000’ climb to Jackal Hut and complete the traverse. It was an exhausting thrill!
While most of our treks were super fun and satisfying, a few must be classified as adventures or even misadventures! Skiing yurt-to-yurt through a three-day blizzard (24 inches in one 24 hour period!) in the Never Summer Mountains of Colorado was certainly a test of our mettle (and our trail-breaking ability!). We learned afterwards that the storm, called “Snowmageddon” by the media, had paralyzed traffic on the interstate between Denver and Fort Collins. But we were mostly cozy in the yurts. But on the last night it dropped to 10 below zero and even feeding the fire all night didn’t keep the yurt warm enough for me to sleep (I need a warmer bag!). When we reached trails end and dug out our rental car, one of the rear windows shattered from the cold. We sealed it with cardboard and duct tape and carried on to the SW Nordic Center in the San Juan mountains. We got lost several times and Laurel couldn’t handle the crusty snow conditions. So we bailed and I went back the next year to do the whole traverse with my brother.
The project required that I become more adept in using a variety of GPS apps and learn to use the amazing CalTopo site to make map scraps. This learning curve was alternately fascinating and frustrating. Honestly, figuring out how best to take detailed notes on trail, and then later write clear and concise turn-by-turn navigation descriptions was not my favorite part of the project. But now I know how to do it!
Reservations can be hard to come by. Even with two years to plan, we had to confront the scarcity of reservations available for some hut-to-hut traverses! We learned that most hut systems are so popular that one has to book far in advance, get lucky, be very flexible, and/or rely on the kindness of hut operators and other hut guests to piece together an itinerary. Even this combination of strategies failed us for the High Sierra Camps in Yosemite. Twice we didn’t get reservations in the highly competitive lottery. While we did manage twice to get reservations by constantly phoning to check for cancellations, in both years the season was cancelled due to depth of snowpack in the Sierra. Finally, with our deadline looming, we decided our only remaining option to experience the High Sierra Loop was to backpack it. While we couldn’t stay in the backcountry tent camps, we camped there; and we were able to stay in the front country tent camp (the tents are very similar) both before and after our glorious six day backpacking trip.
And finally, the pandemic interfered with our research. It derailed our second trip to Alaska, planned for March/April 2020, to do two cabin-to-cabin ski traverses: Nancy Lakes (Alaska DNR) and White Mountains National Recreation Area (BLM). Alas, while we had visited both areas on our first Alaska trip, we really wanted to ski the routes and write about them in detail. Now they are short entries in the “Bonus Hut-to-Hut Traverses” chapter. And our trip to Adirondacks Hamlets to Huts was twice cancelled due to NY state’s pandemic travel restrictions. Fortunately, I had participated their first pilot trip in 2018, and used this experience and help from the owners to write about this new remarkable new “hut” system.
In the end it all worked out!
All I can say is WOW!!
Very impressed how much you two pushed yourselves through all the challenges!
Look forward to reading the book!
sounds like it was a great adventure in many ways! I look forward to the book
Big full hearted congratulations!
Well done Sam and Laurel … specially given the frustrations and constraints of doing field work in a Pandemic.
I hope the book is everything you hoped it would be, and I’m sure will be a huge success. Nga mihi nui (big congratulations in Maori) from Aotearoa.
I’m continuing to tramp and write about huts here in New Zealand, where we are lucky to have weathered the pandemic better than most countries due to our isolation, sea border, and inspired leadership from our Prime Minister and her government.
Shaun