Thread: Hypothesis: Disproven?

Over the last year I’ve been gradually refining my backcountry hunting loadout. The goal being to cut weight without compromising efficacy or safety. A year ago, I’d be lucky to hike in with a loadout less than 22kg, now I can get it as low as 16kg. That’s including rifle, binoculars, walking sticks; the lot.

Alongside that refinement goal, I’m also a big fan of fasting. Often, I’ll fast 18-36 hours because it makes me feel great mentally and physically. I’ll go to work fasted, bike, run, lift weights never with any trouble.

Putting those two things together has left me pondering a hypothesis: If I were to hunt fasted, I’d be able to cut another 2-4kg of weight. Given that I normally feel very mentally sharp fasting would hunting fasted open up a new option of ultra-efficient and focused hunting?

A few hunts ticked by where I was in remote backcountry and didn’t think it safe to test the fasting theory. Then an opportunity presented itself. An overnight hike on a popular hiking trail, with favourable conditions during Waitangi weekend. The plan was to hike the Pinchgut track to Pinchgut Hut, then up Cattle Peak route to Bob’s Camp Bivouac. Staying at Bob’s Bivouac overnight and returning the next day, home in Otautahi in time for lunch.

On Sunday afternoon I set off with a very light pack, absent of food and anything else non-essential. Alongside me was my best friend Blue carrying a few more supplies in his doggy backpack (photo 1) we travelled fast and light. We made Pinchgut Hut in half the suggested three-hour hike time, then carried straight on into the big climb up Cattle Peak ridge (photo 2). While the pace was quick, I did feel the heat and my shirt showed it: soaked wet with sweat like a rag.

Along the track a trapper had let me know there was another hunter up ahead hunting the ridge as well, so I made the decision to stay along the ridgeline until I saw him, not wanting to waste time looking into a basin he might be hidden down in or risk cutting down into his firing line. I never saw the mythical hunter and gradually made my way to Bob’s Camp Bivouac, arriving shortly before dark. We’d done the 12km, 900m elevation hike in around 4 hours.

We settled down quickly that evening. Blue devoured his biscuits, and I sipped on water – I’d hiked up with 1.5L, expecting to be able to find more near the Bivouac but the only nearby creek had reduced to a slow trickle that we managed to use to fill up a bowl for Blue.

We slept well that night. Both tired from the day's efforts and the afternoon’s heat. Blue slept happily with a full belly, and I felt no hunger at all, reflecting positively on the experiment so far as I faded to sleep.

An early pre-dawn start had us looking into a few likely basins for deer, but with strong winds that I couldn’t keep the bino’s from wobbling in I figured chances weren’t great and with a big hike ahead of us I decided to focus on the experiment not ungulates.

Cruising along the ridgeline I noticed I was feeling very tired, and my legs were fatiguing fast. Two thoughts battled around in my head as I continued to pick a track over the scree and tussock. One: Oh-no, the fasting wasn’t a good idea, I’ve depleted my muscles of glycogen and I’ve got hours of hiking ahead of me. Two: It's nothing to do with fasting, my legs are tired from a bigger than expected hike, and they’ve had no time to recover. Over the next two hours hiking over the undulating ridgeline and then down the final big drop to Pinchgut Hut the two thoughts battled it out.

Arriving at Pinchgut Hut a winner was announced: Thought 1. Fasting wasn’t a good idea. I drank my fill of water at Pinchgut Hut and continued on hoping to make my car as soon as possible. I did my best to pre-occupy my mind with a more important problem. At Rangiora would I eat a Pie, a Pizza, or Fish & Chips? Each culinary choice was carefully considered on its merits and finally after much internal dialogue and in the interests of progressive inclusion it was decided that the only right thing would be to have all three.

Despite the lively internal debate on catering options, it became harder and harder to ignore my growing exhaustion now accompanied by sharp hunger pains as well as vision and thinking that was becoming foggy.

What I slowly realised – as water became harder to drink – was that it probably wasn’t the lack of food that was causing the trouble so much as the lack of salt. I had sweat a lot over the last 20 hours and hadn’t replaced that salt at all. On a typical hunt I will rely on a double strength electrolyte drink after reaching the tops, having found it plays a big role in recovery.

Thirty minutes from the end of the hike I came across a very friendly and knowledgeable gentlemen who asked after my hunting success (having noticed the rifle barrel poking up over my head), we got to talking and he passed on knowledge that would have taken me five years to learn on my own. (Sir, thank you and if you happen to read this, I’d love to buy you a drink and share some more stories). After talking for a few minutes, I felt another wave of exhaustion hit me followed rapidly by nausea. I abruptly ended the conversation and walked ten metres around the corner to dry retch at the base of a beech tree and then continued on my way.

Four and a half hours after leaving the Bivouac we arrived back at the car Blue, and I quickly got unloaded and headed at full steam for Rangiora. The hunger pains and nausea were constant now and I was desperate for food.

Arriving in Rangiora the first place I saw was Burger King, “A drive through!” I exclaimed to myself “Genius, no more walking!” In the carpark of that fine establishment, I ate what little I could stomach then continued home. At home I continued to slowly eat, drink and take on salts. After a couple hours I was feeling mostly normal, aside from absolute fatigue.

Chalking the 24 hours up to an experience I’d never repeat, I went to bed grateful for the springs in my mattress and crisp sheets. The next morning, I woke up and at once felt off and thought “oh this feels familiar, I better take a Rapid Antigen Test.” Before I made it to the tests in the pantry my partner tells me not to bother, she’d taken a test the night before and was positive.
Suddenly the fatigue and fogginess had an explanation.

As I’m writing this a week later, recovered from my experiment; and COVID-19 I find myself annoyingly unsure of things. As a whole the ‘hunt’ - if you can call it that - was an absolute disaster but I’m not sure why. Was it the lack of food? The loss of sodium? COVID-19? Or a brutal cocktail of all those things? Should I try again? Or maybe accept that hunting is an extreme endurance sport in its own right and like any other endurance sport nutrition management is key to success.

I’ll take the next few weeks to build my strength back up from COVID-19 and plan the next adventure, I think for now I’ll keep packing the jet-boil and Mi Goreng noodles but I’m not quite ready to throw out the idea of fasting during a hunt yet.


Post Script. To those of you that might be shaking their heads thinking “idiot, that was super dangerous” in a way you’re right. Safety is always my highest priority. I’m a dad and coming home to my son – and the other people I love and that love me - will always be my priority. I personally felt well within my own safety parameters. I picked a popular track on a busy weekend, crossing paths with other hikers almost every hour. I carried a PLB – like always. I told someone of my plans. And I’m no stranger to endurance sports, fasting, survival training and the backcountry in general. However, I’m not recommending or endorsing my approach for anyone else.