FAQ about the PCT, Part Two

If you don’t know what the PCT is, or even if you do, you should check out FAQ about the PCT, Part One! I’ll wait.

There. Did you enjoy it? Do you think I’m crazy? You’re in good company. There’s no way I would undertake something like this on my own, but I would follow my husband to the ends of the earth, and if the ends of the earth include an awesome hiking trail that winds through 2,600 miles of breathtaking wilderness, that ain’t too bad.

Now, without further ado, here’s another round of questions that I often get…

Q: When are you leaving and when will you come back?

A: We have a flight booked for April 19th, but we’re going to spend Easter and a couple days with my sister in San Diego before hitting the trail. We’re hoping to attend the official kick-off date on April 25th. We should finish the trail in mid to late September, and then we’ll find our way to Portland and stay for a few weeks, leaving our return to land somewhere in mid to late October.

Q: What will you be eating and how will you carry it?

A: We will be eating mostly meals that we’ve dehydrated and packaged ourselves, which (hopefully) will include pasta, mashed potatoes, chili, rice, hummus, chicken, and beef, supplemented with lots of olive oil, peanut butter, parmesan cheese, and Snickers bars. We’re currently working on packing our resupply boxes, which we will leave with my parents, who will send them to general delivery at post offices along the trail as we go. This way we’ll always have a supply of staple food, plus whatever we want to buy when we’re in town.

Q: Will you be able to keep your townhouse?

Buford Mountain, MO— I wish we could hike here more often.

A: Sadly, no. There’s no possible way we could afford to pay rent on a house we aren’t living in. We’ll be moving out pretty soon.

Q: Are you quitting your jobs?

A: Nope, but neither of us will be working during that time. Zach just got approved for a leave of absence, and I will be able to jump right back into my editing job when we get home.

Q: What are you doing to train for this?

A: We walk a lot, although we should walk more. We’ve been carrying our backpacks lately. However, there aren’t any big hills or rugged terrain in our town (or anywhere close), so there’s no a whole lot we can do. Our best shot is to keep our bodies in shape and prepare our minds for dealing with the pain and soreness of hiking day in and day out.

Q: Is the trail safe?

A: Well, that depends on your definition of “safe.” I wasn’t able to find info about casualties on the PCT, but I know there have been some— a couple times caused by hikers getting caught unprepared in unexpected weather, but mostly from hikers getting hit by cars when they try to cross a road. To my knowledge, no one has died of crime or animal attacks on the PCT. We will be in constant danger of blisters, shin splints, turned ankles, rabid mosquitoes, and scrapes and bumps— but all in all, it’s not much more dangerous than going for a walk where you cross busy streets, as Zach and I do every day. 

Q: You’re going to take a bunch of photos, right?

A: We’ll try! We have a camera that isn’t terribly good, but it’s waterproof and shock-proof and Zach already owned it, so we’re gonna call it good enough.

Washington, 2010: this is how I looked after working eight
hours a day on a farm and not showering for two weeks.
It's really not as bad as you think.

Q: How will you afford to stay in hotels along the way?

A: This is generally asked by people who don’t seem to grasp the concept of a backpacking trail. Yes, we will be stopping by towns here and there, and I’m hoping we’ll have enough money to get a hotel once in a while (though that is a dim hope at this point), but we are going to be sleeping in our tent every night. 

Q: How will you shower?

A: We won’t.

Q: Ew! How can you go without a shower for that long?

A: Because we’re expecting not to. I’ve heard that you can count the hot showers on the PCT on one hand. We’ll wash up once in a while, but we will have to be at peace with our level of griminess. I’ve done this short-term while working on a farm. Once your standard of cleanliness goes down, you hardly miss the shower!

Did I forget any? Is there anything else you’d like to know?

~~~

FAQ about the PCT (after all has been told)

(Check out other FAQ about the PCT here.)

I know, I know. It’s been another long silence. Every time I think about posting to my blog, I always feel like there needs to be an eloquent lead-in, some sort of transition. But if I keep waiting for that to happen, it never will.

So, without any more prelude, here are some answers to questions I’ve gotten since I finished posting my memoir.

Q: Did you ever figure out what Zach's persistent stomach issues were all about? 

A: We never figured it out for sure, so we’re just chalking it up to a stressed digestive system. And although my stomach held up fine on trail, about three months after we finished, my body had a complete system failure. Zach finally convinced me to go to the doctor, and after a horrible two-month sugar cleanse, I was restored to health. Zach and I did a shorter sugar cleanse recently, and his stomach appears to be doing better. But I still can’t fathom why Zach could eat two cups of mashed potatoes, topped with half a summer sausage and a literal half cup of olive oil, without any stomach issues, but get sick on a soda and half a bag of chips.

Q: What would you do differently?

A: How much time do you have? (I kid, I kid.) There are a ton of small things (there will be a whole entry on this later), but here are some general things:

The number one change I’d make, hands down, no contest: I would’ve spent more money. I have always been adamant that you should never go into debt for a trip, but our lives would’ve been soooo much easier if we had just been willing to spend more cash. We paid off what little debt we had in short order, with very little stress, and I’ve been kicking myself ever since.

On a similar note, I would’ve relaxed more about our mileage. Near the end of the trail, we told ourselves, “Morale is more important than mileage,” and it’s true. If you’re happy and well-fed, you’ll sail through the miles much more easily.

I would’ve carried more snacks and fewer meals. Meals are great, but they take a long time to prepare, and often require water. Snacks are golden. Especially peanut-butter-chocolate-honey tortilla wraps.

I would’ve asked friends and family for more help. In Washington, we finally wrote a group letter asking if anyone wanted to give us some cash, and the response was overwhelming. People were wanting to help, but we had to give them the chance. This was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and I don’t think I fully realized how eager people were to help us out.

Q: How did the trip change you?

A: It seems odd to say this, but this is a difficult question to answer. You’d think that the hardest and most incredible trip of your life would affect you in some dramatic, singular way. But as far as I can tell, it didn’t.

Crazy, right?

I wish I could say that I appreciated nature more, or that I embraced minimalism, or that I felt more connected to my husband, or that I had learned not to sweat the small stuff. But if I did, it’s so subtle that it’s escaped my notice.

That’s not to say that the trip didn’t change me. It affected me in a million little ways.

It taught me to trust my husband’s judgement. 

I appreciate civilization and convenience and my possessions a lot more.

It gave me a small sense of just how much it would suck to be homeless; I’ve given a lot more money to panhandlers since my return.

It gave me a much more physical sense of the size of the world— I know how far a thousand miles is. I know what it takes to walk that distance. Twice. And whenever we sing a song in church about God being “higher than the mountains that we face,” or with us “in the desert” or with us “every step of the way,” I tear up, because I know, on a visceral, sensory level, what a mountain and a desert and a never-ending journey of steps feels like.

It gave me memories and stories that seem to come up in every conversation, no matter how hard I try to avoid always bringing up, “When we were on trail…”

It gave me new perspective on patiently dealing with something. I used to say, “Life is a marathon, not a sprint.” Now I say, “Life is a thru-hike, not a marathon.”

It showed me I had more strength than I realized.

In the end, I think I’m still processing how the trip changed me. It was incredible. It was exhausting. It probably had more of an impact on me than I realize. But it was less like a trip and more like a very strange, very short, very intense phase of life, one that may take years to fully understand.

~~~

In Which Lisa Creates Her First Meme

I’ve been thinking a lot about backpacking lately, and along with these thoughts has been an overwhelming urge to make one of those “What I Actually Do” memes. So I made one:

I’ll post some blogs of substance on this topic in upcoming weeks. To tide you over for today, check out these FAQ about the Pacific Crest Trail.

~~~

Opportunity: Host a Foreign Exchange Student

Hey all! 

I wanted to give a quick shout-out to a non-profit organization that my cousin works for, Ayusa. They coordinate a program for foreign exchange students, and they’re actively seeking hosts right now for their out-of-country high schoolers. You don’t have to be a nuclear family to host: they accept all sorts of family structures and situations! 

Although I’ve never personally hosted a foreign exchange student, it sounds like a great opportunity for both the host and the student. If it’s something you’re interested in, please check out their site, or go straight to the FAQ page about hosting.

Thanks!

~Lisa

FAQ about the PCT, After the Fact (Part One)

John Muir Trail
hikers gave the
best leftovers!

These are the questions I got asked most while we were hiking the PCT. 

Q: What is your trail name and how did you get it?

A: My name is Leftovers and this is my husband, Tabasco. I got my name because I was eating everybody’s leftover food at Lake Morena. He got his because he carried a bottle of habenero Tabasco for most of the trail.

Q: Where are you from?

A: St. Louis, Missouri. (Actually, I’m from St. Charles, but nobody knows where that is.) This would often lead to a discussion about the city, in which the people who had actually visited seemed positive about it (“The Ozarks are beautiful.” “City Museum is awesome!”) and the people who hadn’t visited were negative (“Don’t they have a lot of crime?” “Isn’t the weather terrible?” “Isn’t that the place where all the white people shoot all the black people all the time for no reason?”).

Q: What was the highlight of the trail?

A: The parts where we weren’t hiking! (Cue laugh track.) But I’m actually serious. Hanging out with other hikers and going to trail angel’s houses and finding caches of soda by the side of the road— that was honestly my favorite part.

Q: I mean, what was your favorite section?

A: Oh, that! Well, that’s a different story. For most of the trail, I told people that the Lake Tahoe area, including the incredible lakes in the Desolation Wilderness, was my favorite part because of the sweeping views and the wildflowers. However, in the end, this section was beat out by the North Cascades in Washington, which was the most beautiful scenery I could imagine. Wide views, jagged peaks, shreds of mist, blazing blue skies, larch trees turning golden, acres of huckleberry bushes blushing red— it was the most incredible thing I had ever seen, or probably ever will see. (Also, by the end of the trail I was feeling better emotionally, which made it easier for me to appreciate the beauty.)

This is pretty much what all of northern Washington looked like.

Q: What was your least favorite section?

A: Northern California. By the time we left the Desolation Wilderness, I found myself very disheartened that we’d been in California for two and a half months, and we still had a month left before we’d hit Oregon. The weather was horribly hot and humid, we ran into the creepiest town I’d ever seen (Belden Town, if you’re curious), a crop of forest fires erupted which turned the sky red and rained ash down on us, and we woke up one morning to find a dead bear in a pool of blood on a road twenty feet from our campsite. It was pretty much awful.

Q: Did you see any cool animals?

A: Yes! We saw several black bears (not all of them were dead), which was thrilling. We also saw a lynx and a gray fox in southern California. In the Goat Rocks of Washington we spotted some shaggy white-furred mountain goats. And of course we saw some cool rattlesnakes in the desert.

See that tiny black speck near the edge of the river? That's a bear!
(Also, see the nice misty scenery? That's smoke from a forest fire.)

Coming tomorrow… part two! 

~~~

Six Misconceptions about the Pacific Crest Trail

The more I learn about backpacking, the more I realize how different it is from car-camping. I’ve posted some FAQ about the PCT here and here, but I thought it might also be useful to mention some misconceptions that I’ve heard (or thought myself). Be sure to let me know if I miss any!

What we won't be doing

1. We’ll be sitting around a campfire every night. I love campfires. The crackling sound, the toasting of various junk food items, the awkward renditions of Kum-ba-ya in which no one can remember the verses… honestly, this is the stuff of dreams. Sadly, however, there are multiple problems with campfires when you’re backpacking. First of all, California has this annoying habit of catching on fire. Especially since this is a dry year, we’ll be lucky if we are allowed to even light our camp-stove anywhere along the trail. Second, campfires require wood, and since we can’t carry our own firewood, we’d have to scavenge from the local forest (if we’re in one), thus robbing the ecosystem of rotting logs and/or live branches. If too many people do this, eventually all the trees will get stripped and the forest will be ruined. So alas, we probably won’t make a campfire until we hit Oregon, and maybe not even then.

2. We’ll wear heavy-duty hiking boots. Until pretty recently, heavy hiking boots were considered a must for backpacking. However, the majority of people who do long-distance hikes now wear trail runners (a sturdy athletic shoe with good tread). That’s what we’ll be doing.

Some of Zach's shoes

3. We’ll hang our food in a tree to keep it safe from grizzly bears. First of all, there are no grizzly bears on the PCT (this fact was a huge relief to me when I discovered it a couple months ago!). While hanging your food is standard procedure in most places, in Yosemite Valley, where we’ll be hiking, it is discouraged because the black bears often hurt themselves attempting to get the food. Instead, we’ll be using bear canisters— sturdy plastic containers that you leave on the ground in plain view a few hundred feet away from your tent. The bear will find it, attempt to open it, give up, and (hopefully) leave you alone.

4. We won’t bring toilet paper. We will bring toilet paper. I’m not that hardcore.

5. Cell phones are useful in case of emergency. We’ll be bringing a cell phone for its GPS capabilities (and for the Internet when we have Wi-Fi in town), but a phone is basically worthless as an emergency tool when you’re in the backcountry. We won’t have reception 90% of the time, so it’s unwise to rely on it. 

6. We’ll hike with a group for safety’s sake. Many people have asked me if we’re going to stick together with a group, but we’re not planning to. I’m sure we’ll run into a bunch of people, but honestly, the solitude is part of the experience. We don’t have to worry about grizzlies or bull moose, and have minimal worries about mountain lions (don’t worry, they always pounce for the neck, and our backpacks cover our necks). We have no fear of crime— we’ll be out in the middle of nowhere where it’s not worth it for a criminal to make the trek. We’ll keep an eye out for rattlesnakes and black bears, but mostly we just have to worry about blisters and sprains, scrapes and twisted ankles. In short, I’m not afraid of facing anything on the trail with just the two of us. I’m confident that we’ll be fine.

~~~

What's the Deal with Organic, Anyway?

I ate my first certified-organic vegetable while traveling solo in Bellingham, Washington, in 2009. It was a carrot lined up attractively in the farmer's market bin, and when I bit into it, I was shocked at how light, sweet, and crisp it was— how "carroty" it tasted. "Why haven't I been eating this my entire life?" I thought. "Organic food is the best!"

The next time I tried organic food, it was an apple from a grocery store. And it tasted like… an apple. No special flavor. In fact, the next time I bought an organic carrot, again from a grocery store, it had that slightly bitter edge that most carrots do. 

"Huh," I thought. "I guess organic food is a scam." And I didn't buy any again for a long, long time.

FAQ about My PCT Memoir

"Why haven't we seen enough posts lately?!"

Q: Why haven’t you been posting as much lately?

A: Sorry about that! In mid-June, Zach and I moved into our very own house (huzzah!), and have been pretty busy with getting everything in order. In addition, we don’t have internet yet, so it’s harder for me to post. That said, I made an effort this week to work on my posts offline, so next week there will be five posts as usual, and I hope to keep up that schedule pretty consistently from here on out.

Q: How do you remember all this stuff?

A: Obviously my memory is flawed, and I do take artistic license, especially when conversations are involved (since I can only remember the gist of what was said). I have a diary that I kept on trail, mostly consisting of sentence fragments to jog my memory. For example: “Day 80, July 13th, Sunday. LaP./Quincy Rd to Bear Creek. Late wakeup, very hot, mac n’ cheese makes us feel sick. Getting to Feather River & washing clothes & sitting in the water. We camp near Bear Creek w/Catdog. I am exhausted.” 

These entries usually help me remember almost everything, but I also use my photos as memory aids (if you hike the trail, take a million photos— believe me, you won’t regret it), and consult our maps to help figure out mileage and to check to make sure I have the correct names for mountains and highways. All in all, I feel like I’m coming up with an accurate portrayal of the trail, both in the way I felt and what actually happened.

Q: Have you finished your memoir yet?

A: Not yet. However, I’m about to start writing about the Washington section, so I’m getting close. The current word count is about 180,000. I’ve been committing to writing more often now that the craziness of the move has settled down, usually bashing out a couple thousand words a day.

Q: Are you going to publish the memoir when it’s finished?

A: I would like to, but the form that will take is still yet to be seen. I want to finish it first, and let it rest, before I decide what to do. 

Q: When did you guys start enjoying the trail? It sounds like you were miserable the whole time!

A: I know a few people have been disappointed when reading the account to hear how grumpy and upset I was most of the time. As I said in a previous post, I wish that I hadn’t been, but I’d be lying to say that I wasn’t. If you asked a marathon runner to give a second-by-second description of how they felt, you probably would find that most of the moments were painful and difficult, despite the joy at the end. So it was with the trail. 

The entries over the next couple weeks reflect some of the most mentally and emotionally difficult weeks on trail, so it’s going to be a rocky ride for a while. But I do want to let you know that yes, I did finally start enjoying myself. It took a long, long time, but the last part of the trail holds a special place in my heart, as you’ll see.

As an addendum to that, though, a different perspective on this question might yield this answer: I started enjoying the trail now, a year after the fact. I look back on my entries about how miserable we were, and how freaked out, and how unprepared and grumpy, and I feel a fantastic sense of happiness and nostalgia. Look at what a cool adventure that was! Remember what it was like to sleep under the stars and drink from mountain streams and carry everything we needed on our backs! What a once-in-a-lifetime experience. What a blessing that we were able to hike the trail in the prime of our lives. What an incredible gift! I have never regretted hiking the trail, but now I appreciate that experience more than ever before.

Which, of course, begs the question: if something was miserable at the time, but you look back on it with happiness and love, was it really miserable?

~~~

FAQ about the PCT, After the Fact (Part Two)

Q: What was your best day?

A: Honestly, I can’t pick out a best day on trail. One of the best, though, was the day we got into Carson Pass near the end of the Sierra. We were starved and malnourished and trying to find cell reception to see if we could go to Sacramento for the week to recover a bit at Zach’s grandparents’ house. That was where we ran into some of the most beautiful wildflowers yet. We crossed a road, and a lady at the visitor center at Carson Pass had made a huge batch of sandwiches and cookies for hikers. We sat there and ate and ate, then hiked up into a gorgeous field of wildflowers… and found cell reception for the first time in weeks. We called our friends and family, and at the end of the day, we hiked to another highway and got picked up by Grandpa Ray and whisked off to Sacramento for a week of relaxation, showers, and copious amounts of food. That was a pretty awesome day.

It wasn't as breathtakingly gorgeous as the high Sierra, but we were deliriously happy that day.

Q: What was your worst day?

A: It’s a toss-up between two days: 

1. The time we walked across the incredibly boring California aqueduct in blazing heat. We hiked into a wind farm that nearly blew us off our feet. I got sand stuck in my eye and it took half an hour to get it out. Then we hiked another seven miles in 60mph gusts of wind (if not stronger), into a pitch black night, hoping to get out of the wind to camp. We never got out of the wind, and could barely sleep that night because of our tent flapping like a sail.

2. The day in the high Sierra when we crossed our first pass, a 13,000-foot notch in the mountains called Forester Pass. It was a long, hard, post-holing snow-walk to get there, followed by a set of dizzying switchbacks up to a narrow pass. We started down the other side. I kept on post-holing and bashing my ankle into rocks. I was afraid we were going to break our ankles and be stranded. We ended up scrambling down a nearly-sheer cliff and inching our way around a frozen lake, with me in hysterics nearly the entire time.

Yeah, neither of those days lives very fondly in my memory.

Q: What was your favorite town?

A: That’s a really tough one— I loved so many of the towns that we passed through! In the end, the unlikely winner goes to Sierra City, California, a tiny old mining village tucked into a deep mountain valley. All the buildings have tin roofs, and a brooding sense of history lies over the town. It was quiet and a bit mysterious and beautiful. Many hikers think it’s creepy, but I loved it. The Methodist church there let us camp on their lawn for free, a fellow thru-hiker bought me ice cream at the general store for my birthday, and a local took us out for breakfast before we hit the trail again in the morning.

A very close second place goes to Stehekin, Washington, a remote community on the banks of Lake Chelan. It was gorgeous, the town let us stay in a boathouse to keep out of the rain, and their bakery had the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever eaten.

Q: Would you do it again?

A: No, I don’t think we would ever thru-hike the PCT again— we feel like we conquered the trail, and had the full experience. We’ve kicked around the idea of tackling the Appalachian Trail, or perhaps the eastern third of the American Discovery Trail, but not in the near future. Right now, I’m pretty excited to settle down and try to start a family. However, everyone says thru-hiking is addictive. I didn’t believe them at first, but now that I’m feeling so nostalgic about the trail, I’m beginning to see what they mean…

When I see photos like this, it's easy to remember a rosy-colored version of the events
 and forget how starving, malnourished, exhausted and afraid I was at this point.

Do you have any questions about the PCT? Your questions will help me figure out how to start blogging about our trip. Thanks!

~~~

FAQ about the PCT

As the year strolls along, my attention has focused more and more on Zach’s and my big goal for 2014: hike the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) from beginning to end. Although there are countless factors that might keep us from actually finishing (or starting) this expedition, we’re going to give it our best shot.

Whenever I talk to people about the trail, a string of questions inevitably comes up. Many of these questions make me think that I must not be explaining what we want to do as clearly as I should. Therefore, I give you, Frequently Asked Questions about the Pacific Crest Trail!

Forest near Timothy Lake, Oregon,
where Zach first discovered the PCT.

Q: What is the PCT?

A: It’s a backpacking trail that starts on the border of Mexico and winds its way up through California (passing through the Mojave Desert and Yosemite up the Sierra Nevada range), over the Cascade range in Oregon and Washington, ending a couple miles into Canada. 

Q: How long is it?

A: Approximately 2,660 miles.

Q: Wow, that’ll take you, like, at least three or four weeks to hike, right?

A: *blink blink*

I don’t even…

What?

Q: Why are you looking at me like I’m stupid?

A: You’re not stupid. You have just managed to completely and utterly baffle me.

*awkward silence*

Q: So how long will it take?

A: If we go at a decent rate, about five months.

Q: Five months! How will you make money during those months?

A: We won’t. 

Q: So will you do your online teaching job while you’re out there?

A: This is one of those questions that makes me think I haven’t properly conveyed what hiking the PCT actually looks like. Even if I could afford the extra weight (my computer weighs more than our tent), and be sure that my Macbook could stay dry, and have enough battery power to keep it going, I wouldn’t have time to edit when I’m hiking ten hours a day. So no.

Q: When will you go?

A: The kickoff date is in late April.

Q: Will you take breaks?

A: Maybe a day here and there, but we’re hoping to hike straight through (as opposed to “section hiking,” where you hike it in chunks over a longer period of time).

Q: So you’ll be stranded in the wilderness for weeks at a time?

A: Actually, no. We’ll be stopping into towns every four to five days. We’re also likely to meet a lot of other hikers on the trail.

Timothy Lake

Q: How will you carry enough food?

A: We’ll be mailing ourselves packs of shelf-stable food to the different towns. 

Q: You’re going to take a cell phone or satellite phone, right?

A: We haven’t decided yet. A cell phone would be basically worthless, and a satellite phone probably wouldn’t be worth the weight.

Q: Why are you so obsessed about weight?

A: In backpacking, every ounce of pack weight counts. Have you ever tried to bench-press a one-pound barbell? Easy, right? Now, do 40,000 reps. That’s approximately how many steps we’ll be walking in one day. Every extra ounce adds up quickly.

Q: What happens if one of you gets injured?

A: Probably cry. And then we’d use our wilderness first aid skills to figure out what to do. Like I said, we won’t be too far from civilization at any given time, and there are other hikers on the trail.

Q: What happens if you have to call the whole thing off?

A: Head to the nearest family member’s house (there are many on the west coast) and book a flight home.

Q: Are you really hardcore enough for this?

A: Well… I don’t have an answer to that yet. A triathlon champion reportedly went home crying after a week on the trail, but a nine-year old girl hiked the whole thing with her mother last year. We won’t know until we get there. And that’s half the fun.

Did I miss anything? Do you have any more questions about the PCT?

~~~

FAQ about Our Chickens

Our girls love to "dust-bathe" in the mulch!

Chickens are the best conversation starters. Whether chatting with the neighbors over the fence, talking to people in cars who slow down to catch a glimpse of our girls, or showing off the beautiful eggs, I find plenty of opportunities to talk about the joys of keeping these fluffy fowl.

People are often eager to learn more about both our specific chickens and chickens in general, and the same questions have come up several times. So, as a public service announcement, here are the top ten questions we get about our chickens, with answers from yours truly!

1. Where did you buy them?

We bought our chickies last September from the Fenton Feed Mill, which sources their chicks from the Ideal Poultry Hatchery in Texas. Although a lot of books and articles will tell you to order chicks via mail, most hatcheries won’t sell you a small number of chicks because shipping them in small numbers is much more stressful to the birds. So I was glad I came across the mill! They post updates about shipments of chicks on their Facebook page, so if you’re in the St. Louis area and are interested in getting just a few birds, I highly recommend them.

2. Do you have a rooster (and do you need one)?

After finding five eggs in the nest box in one day, we can officially confirm that we don’t have any roosters! An expert can tell the gender of a baby chick right when it’s born, but there’s always a small chance that you’ll get a male. Fortunately, all five of our girls are laying, so we are officially obeying the St. Charles prohibition against roosters. Hens will lay eggs without a rooster, the eggs just won’t be fertile— which is fine with us.

3. How much work is it to keep chickens?

Getting the whole set-up together took a lot of time and money, and raising the chickens until they were old enough to be put outside was probably about as much work as keeping a hamster or other small animal. Now that our system is put together, it’s not much work. Every morning I bring them a small plastic bin of food, rinse out and refill their water, and check for eggs. I’ll go out around noon to let them forage in our compost pile and to gather eggs again, and usually once more at night, although three times a day isn’t necessary. We clean their henhouse about once a week.

4. Are you going to eat your chickens?

At this point, we are planning to cull our chickens once they get past laying age, but I’ve never killed an animal before so I’m not sure how it will come down— we may end up giving them to someone who will humanely butcher them for the soup pot. Chickens can live upwards of 20 years, and since they are livestock, not pets, we don’t want to continue feeding them if they are not going to lay.

5. What?! How could you eat something that’s so cute?

If you’re a vegan, this is a good question. Our relationship with meat is very complex, and I wrote about it more in these three blog posts (part 1, part 2, part 3). If you are not a vegan, it’s true that the idea of killing these cute creatures is hard for me, but I remind myself that they live happy lives, unlike industrially-raised chickens, who are usually cramped, fed a diet of antibiotics, and routinely starved to force them to molt. Looking an animal in the face before eating it is emotionally and mentally weighty— and again, I’m not exactly sure how I’ll handle it— but I firmly believe that this face-to-face interaction is necessary to be intellectually and morally honest about eating meat.

6. Are chickens vegetarians/insectivores?

Nope, they are avid omnivores! (See this video for proof.) The idea that chickens are vegetarians is a myth reinforced by the proud, “100% Vegetarian Fed” labels on grocery-store eggs. Chickens eat a lot of grains and greens, but they also love bugs, worms, spiders, mice, snakes, and carrion (although ours have mainly just hunted grasshoppers and worms so far). Traditionally, people would feed chickens small animal carcasses during the winter when there weren’t any bugs out, in order to keep their protein levels high. In fact, if you dropped dead in your chicken run, your chickens would happily eat you. They’re basically little scavenging dinosaurs.

7. Are brown eggs healthier than white eggs?

I used to think that brown eggs were a sign of chickens having a healthier diet— and organic grocery-store eggs perpetuate this misconception by only marketing brown eggs. In fact, the color of an egg is dependent on breed, not diet. Some hens lay brown eggs, some white, and some bluish-green, like our girl Bobbie Dylan. 

8. What do your hens’ eggs taste like?

Brown or blue, all chicken eggs taste roughly the same. Eggs laid from happy chickens who get to scratch and eat greens all day taste like regular eggs— except much richer, fuller, and more intense. The yolks are bright to dark orange and stand up tall in the pan, and the white is very white and not very runny. This is due to diet and exercise, not shell color.

9. Are these eggs healthier than eggs at the grocery store?
Yup! See this study about pastured eggs vs. store-bought eggs. Even the organic eggs at the grocery store are usually taken from chickens who live in cramped quarters and don’t go outside very much.

10. Are you glad you got chickens?
Absolutely! They aren’t that much work, their eggs are delicious, their poop makes rich compost, and they are downright hilarious to watch. I’m so glad we finally made the plunge and brought chickens into our lives!

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Why We Bought an Electric Car (and what it's like in real life)

#modellife

A few months ago, Zach and I returned to St. Louis to realize that our 1993 sedan was super dead. We briefly considered going car-free, but decided on a compromise that we'd been thinking about for ages: buying a fully electric car. We ordered one on Carvana and had one delivered to our house within a week.

When I tell people we've gotten an electric car, most people assume I mean a hybrid, and are amazed when I say that it doesn't have a gas engine at all. There is a notion that electric cars are for the elite, for people who don't drive anywhere, or for people who live on the west coast. But EVs are more accessible and feasible than they've ever been— and it's only going to get better.

The Internet is full of great information about electric cars, but I thought it would be helpful to consolidate some of the facts and figures here, as well as my thoughts about what it's like to drive an EV in real life. Although I've tried to answer all the questions I can think of, if you have any more, please leave a comment below and I'll answer as best I can!

What kind of car is it?

The vehicle we ended up choosing was a 2016 Chevy Spark EV. It is fully electric and has a range of about 80 miles in between charges. 

We chose this vehicle because it seemed most appropriate for our needs. Teslas are far out of our price range, but we also considered a Nissan Leaf and a Fiat. We chose the Chevy because it was overall cheaper than the Leaf and bigger than the Fiat— although still pretty small. It also has a system that, when plugged in, conditions the battery, cooling it in the summer and heating it in the winter, which is handy for our climate.

What factors did you consider before getting an electric car?

We considered a whole lots of pros and cons, listed below, but I think the most important thing we did before springing for an EV was analyzing our driving habits. What did we actually use our car for?

Although both of us love the idea of just throwing a bag in the car and vagabonding around the US for a week or two… in reality, we don't actually like driving that much. Since our old car was in such bad shape, Zach and I never went on road trips, so we're not in the habit of it. Most of the time we'd rather save our money to visit his family, anyway— who live in Oregon, Washington, and California. 

The majority of our driving is around town: to and from work, to visit his mom or our friends in St. Louis city, to our favorite hiking spots, or to buy groceries and supplies. An electric car would work perfectly fine for all these and more. And if we really got a hankering for a road trip? We could always rent a car, using the money we saved from not having to pay for gas.

PROS OF DRIVING AN ELECTRIC CAR

1. Less reliance on fossil fuels

We have no illusions of our car "not causing pollution"— since we're in Missouri, it is still running on coal energy, which is pumping harmful gases into the atmosphere. However, electric cars are still far better for the environment than gas or hybrid because it's more efficient to burn fuel at a refinery and transmit it via electricity than it is to combust gas in an engine. According to some estimates, the "gas mileage," in terms of pollution, for an electric car averages out to 80 mpg, as opposed to 58mpg for a brand-new hybrid, or 24 mpg for a new gasoline car. 

Moreover, as electrical grids continue to move toward renewable energy (such as Missouri Community Solar), electric cars won't need any modifications to keep running on clean energy. We're hoping that in a few years, our car will be fueled by solar and wind. 

There is a common misconception that since electric vehicles require more energy and emissions to manufacture than regular cars, that they are worse for the environment. This is a myth: electric cars "pay themselves back" in terms of emissions/pollution within two years. 

2. Fewer moving parts

Electric vehicles are practically like toy cars. They have a battery and brakes, climate control, a battery conditioner, windshield wiper fluid, some coolant tubes, and miscellaneous electronics. No engine, no transmission, no oil changes, no gas fill-ups. Very few things can go wrong.

This was the biggest reason that we didn't spring for a hybrid (though there are other reasons; see below): hybrids still have gas engines and transmissions, which means regular oil changes, fill-ups at the gas station, and engine/transmission failure points.

3. Cheaper to run

Although a 2016 car of any kind is more expensive than something older, in terms of ongoing costs, our EV earns its keep.

It gets roughly 5 miles per kWh (not taking into account running heating or cooling when we're driving), which means it requires 20 kW to go 100 miles. With current electricity rates, this costs us slightly more than 1¢ per mile.

In contrast, a brand-spanking-new 2020 Prius gets at best 58mpg; so if gas is rock-bottom at $2 per gallon, that's 3¢ per mile (at $3 per gallon, it's 5¢). A car that gets 30mpg would cost 6¢ per mile at the cheapest rate.

Also keep in mind that we don't have to get oil changes, and some maintenance fees are cheaper (for instance, the brakes in an EV last longer due to regenerative braking). 

So it's not exactly free to run, but it's still considerably cheaper than other options.

4. Increased consciousness about driving

When Zach and I are planning a trip to St. Louis city or need to run multiple errands in a day, we first have to stop and think: will the battery last long enough? Will we need to stop and charge somewhere? Should be be trying to do all of this in one day anyway? Are there any other errands or things to do in the area we're looking at, do we don't have to go there twice?

Yes, it makes things a bit more complicated, and many people would consider this a con rather than a pro. However, I like that this car forces us to think about how much we're driving. I like that it makes us stop and think before we hop in the car. 

Everyone drives cars a ton because it's considered normal. But doing something a little abnormal forces us to consider things in light of the bigger picture. Should we be running around this much? Do we really have to drive to some far-flung locale for a day trip, or would something thirty minutes away be just as good? What is there to explore in our local area?

Like having a push mower (which eventually was rendered nearly obsolete by us sheet-mulching our whole yard), having a slightly inconvenient vehicle means that we are conscious about the choices we've made, and will consequently design our lives in tune with these boundaries.

(But, that said, EV infrastructure is getting much better very quickly— so this point will probably be obsolete in just a couple years.)

CONS OF DRIVING AN ELECTRIC CAR

1. Limited range

As a counterpoint to #3 above… as much as consciousness is great, sometimes you want to do something, and it's inconvenient to stop at a charging station or combine trips. Honestly, in the few months since we've had the car, we've only had to get fancy about charging twice, and only had to actually pay a fee for charging one time. But the limitations can be frustrating, especially if you're used to not thinking about distance.

2. Replacing the battery is expensive

Like, as-much-as-a-new-car expensive. However, batteries don't wear out as quickly as you think they will, because you don't drive as many miles in an EV. We are currently saving all the money from not buying gas to save up for that day in the future when we'll have to replace the battery.

3. No backup if battery runs out

Unlike gas, which can be easily transported from the nearest station (and has plentiful stations), electricity is not mobile. If we run out of battery, that's it: the car has to be towed to the nearest charging station. So you really have to be diligent about figuring out trips beforehand, so you don't get caught out! However, with some simple planning (thank you, Plug Share), this hasn't been an issue yet.

A lot of Walmarts have installed EV charging stations. It takes about ten minutes to charge, and costs about as much as buying gas.

FAQ:

How do you charge it? Where do you plug it in? Do you have to have a charger installed at your home?

It came with a charging cable, which can plug into a simple wall outlet (no adapter required), or a 220 outlet (like a dryer outlet), which will charge it faster. We have it plugged into a regular outlet at our house for now and that's working fine. There are also 220 charging stations around the city (often free!), as well as "fast charging" stations that require a fee to use, but can mostly charge your car in five to ten minutes.

Why didn't you buy a hybrid? 

There are several reasons. As mentioned, they have more moving parts and more failure points. Most hybrids still require gas (even plug-in hybrids have smaller batteries than electric cars, so you're still dependent on gas). Plus, hybrids are higher-end cars, so for a comparable manufacturing year, hybrids are much more expensive than EVs. We decided that, in view of our driving habits, an EV made more sense.

What would you do in case of a power outage? Do you have a back-up generator? 

Several years ago, power outages were very common throughout winter and summer storms, but in the past ten years or so, they hardly ever happen. Still, if they did happen, we can walk or take public transit everywhere we need to go except for Zach's work— so if the power outage lasted for more than two days (he can get to work and back twice on one charge) he could either get a ride from someone with a gas car, or simply take a few days off work. 

What happens if you run out of electricity on the road? 

As mentioned above, you have to call a towing service. So we're going to try not to make that happen!

How often do you charge it?

We plug it in every night, just so the battery conditioning can work, and so the battery stays fully charged. 

Are there many charging stations in the area? 

There are a surprising number in the St. Louis Metro area! We rely heavily on a website/app called PlugShare, which has a ton of good information.


CONCLUSION

All in all, we've been very pleased with the car. It runs well, we've been able to keep up our regular driving habits, and we're happy to have the means and privilege to use a lower-impact vehicle. 

If you have any questions that this post didn't cover, leave a comment and I'll do my best to answer!

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