June 23, 2015

PCT Mile 1094.5

I hung around Mammoth for days, eating, enjoying the company of friends Jim, his Aunt Vel, Joan, assorted hiker trash, my sister, Annie, and eating.  Annie flew south to hike with me for 3 days to Tuolumne Meadows, a beautiful stretch of the trail.  We took the JMT alternative so as not to miss any of the alpine lakes.  It was a very happy few days hiking with Dawg Breath (of course I gave her that trail name, can you see a sibling dynamic here?  I’m still giggling, what a good sport she is, she let me have my fun introducing her, which made me laugh every time.  Catwater and Dawg Breath.) and I think she looks forward to upgrading her gear and doing more backpacking.  Success!

After a wonderful dinner and breakfast with 4 great women at Tuolumne Meadows, I headed back on the trail by myself.  The trail goes to Glen Aulin High Sierra Camp, where I’ve done some volunteer work, (oh how memory can pierce your heart!), after which was all new country.  It was a perfect sunny day and the trail wasn’t difficult, but for the first time I felt a little sad and lonely.  I missed my sister, and friends Noreen, Joan and Vicky–I felt so warm and cared for in their company.  I missed too the JMT, 200 miles I’ve hiked now 4 times in 3 years.

At the end of the day I walked a log across a deep stream and camped up a side trail within eye shot of several other camps.  The next morning I went a few miles before checking my GPS app to see where I was.  Whoops.  Back the way I came, I hiked 7 miles not on the PCT.  Feeling annoyed with my sleepwalking, as I got back to the junction, I saw 2 men on rocks next to the stream with what looked like a hiker garage sale spread out in the sun around them.  Howdy Doody, clad in navy blue underwear and a gold Star of David, stood next to tall fully dressed Lucas, and told me he slipped off that log crossing and got swept head first down a waterfall, then trapped under a log as he tried to unlatch his pack straps.  Lucas, crossing upstream, saw this happen and hustled downriver to pull him out.  “He saved my life!”  Howdy kept saying, “I would have died.”  They retrieved most of his gear and had been drying it out as I merely walked a couple of hours in the wrong direction. It’s all relative.  Later on the trail, Lucas caught up with me and I told him, “Lifeguard, your trail name should be Lifeguard.”  He smiled and said he liked it.  I think it will stick.

I found a perfect campsite, then another the following night in the rocks on a ledge out of bugs with a vast view.  The next day was more steep trail until finally, on the fourth day out of Tuolumne, the grade was flatter and I could get back to 20+ mile days.  If you can’t keep to your schedule you’re going to run short on food, and that sucks.  Food is fuel, food is energy.  Sonora Pass is beautiful but I hated the 12 mile climb in the freaking wind.  I picked up resupply from Keri at Sonora Pass Resupply (another great business supporting hikers!) and kept going.

The country changes dramatically, with wildflowers and talus mountains like I’ve never seen before.  Climbing to Ebbett’s Pass and Hwy 4 was some of the most beautiful territory I’ve seen the whole hike. Across the highway, it all changed again, utterly amazing rock formations.  My phone camera can’t do them justice, I just had to stop and look and wonder.  I love this trail.

Solstice, June 21, is also Hike Naked Day.  Nope, not happening.  I’m pleased to note that none of my hiking comrades were inclined to donate their skin for a mosquito feast either.  It was a super windy day anyway, we saw a forest fire near Ebbetts Pass blow up and we nearly got blown off several exposed pseudo passes by wind and gusts so strong I leaned into them like a sailboat on tack.  Coming down into slighter lower and protected latitudes, the kind volunteers at Carson Pass Visitor Center treated us PCT thru-hikers to watermelon, pineapple, grapes, brownies and Cokes, a great boost for the last 6 or so miles to camp.

What a life hiking the PCT.  Dirty, tired, bug bit, exhilarated.  Stinky, grimy, wind blown, astonished.  Hungry, achy, angry, happy.  It’s all relative.

June 8
PCT Mile 906
Red’s Meadow

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned that I hiked 500 miles in the Sierra last summer, solo, basically hiking the John Muir Trail (JMT) from north to south and then south (Horseshoe Meadows) to north.  I am pretty much at home in these mountains, I am respectful but utterly unafraid, I trust my experience and ability to assess risk and make “go, no-go” decisions.  Plus I have a satellite navigation device with an SOS panic button….

So that’s the Disclaimer.  I solo because I’m lazy and it’s easy, not because I don’t enjoy hiking with others, and camping with others, and in fact I am very happy I am part of this PCT migratory group and have comrades of all ages ahead, behind and with me.  Sometimes the freedom to hike as I please, camp when and where I want, never having to wait for someone to catch up or having to hustle faster to catch up to someone ahead of me, sometimes it makes me kind of complacent.

I got a FIRST this hike.  I was Strider’s first “Full Package” at her wonderful hiker -friendly Mt Williamson Motel in Independence.  I stayed there twice last year and loved the deal.  You get a ride to and from the Onion Valley trailhead, she holds your mailed resupply bucket, does a load of laundry, gives you a room and breakfast and greets you with a cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale upon check-in.  Bonuses include getting to pet her dog Indy, tons of personal insights about the trail, and hugs.  I highly recommend this place to all JMT and PCT hikers!

Strider dropped me off and I hiked over Kearsarge Pass to join the PCT with Glen Pass a bit further on.  Glen was clear on the south facing ascent, but it was getting on to dinner time so I didn’t loiter at the top any longer than it took to slip the powder baskets on my sticks and the micro spikes over my trail runners.  The boot track traversed a bit and then headed straight down.  Through a dignified  combination of big stepping, glissading, and butt scooting, I managed to make it to the bottom with burning, shaking quads.  It was a long steep way down and I camped at the first Rae Lake I came to at about 7:15 pm.

The next morning, my legs were weak as I headed down to the Woods River suspension bridge and began the tedious climb to Pinchot Pass.  I was whipped, lethargic, and those 15 pounds of food in my pack made every step harder.  So I camped early, after just 11 miles and no pass.  Who was going to argue with me?  Felt like a touch of altitude sickness combined with too much descending, felt like I was a wimp.  Marathon John stopped to talk, then a couple hours later, Half Slow and Señor Whiskers, all OGs trucking up Pinchot.

Woke up feeling great and crossed Pinchot and Mather passes.  Post holing, talus tumbling and generally just heading straight down off Mather into the glory of the Palisades, I managed a 12 hour day and a perfect little stealth camp above the inlet to Lower Palisade lake where I fell asleep to the sounds of thousands of frogs croaking and woke to a thin sheen of condensation dripping down the rain fly.

Down the Golden Staircase, through the down flats along the river till I turned up and began the long approach to Muir Pass.  There were deer everywhere, no fawns yet though.  A cool thing about hiking this section is the memories that pop up associated with a particular spot on the trail. The bear I flushed out of a ferny creek that ran and ran way up into the granite, the mama grouse and her 3 enormous fledglings, the campsites Tarcey Jayne and I enjoyed on the JMT in 2013 at Dollar Lake, the north side of Muir Pass and the secret spot south of Selden Pass.  I went up Muir Pass early enough that the snow was firm, although down to Wanda Lake and beyond was pretty mushy.  I was through the snow by 1:30, although it was windy and cool clear down to McClure Meadow where I wanted to camp so as to ford Evolution Creek early in the morning so  my shoes would have the rest of the day to dry.  More deer, no hikers and I found a 1977 quarter (you find quarters at campsites because they’re used to open some brands of bear canisters) which made me review what significance the year 1977 had in my life.  Oh yeah, Juneau, Fairbanks, “the year I finally grew up.”

The following was a long day, I crossed Selden Pass, finishing at 6:45 just seconds before hail piled up around my tent.  I peeked out at clouds and mist, lightening to the east and the moon struggling to be seen in the opposite sky.  Since I’d taken a sick day on trail, I was short of food to make it all the way to Red’s, so I decided to hike to Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR) off trail for a night, not many hours away.  I had a leisurely morning letting the sun melt the ice off my tent, and enjoying the views of the mountains ringing my oasis until 8 am.  I had wet feet all day from the numerous fords of “rollicking Bear Creek.”  Just before turning off the PCT for VVR, Lone Wolf Expedition, a 1977 thru-hiker, pulled out a gallon ziploc and gave me a $2 bill (“weighs less than two 1’s”), to buy a treat in town on him.  How cool is that?  1977 again.

VVR was a trip.  Made it into the lodge just as another thunder shower opened up.  It took a few minutes, but I knew the 2 people inside:  Julia used to work at Tioga Pass Resort, and Everest had materialized out of the woods last summer, like Captain Kirk on the surface of an unknown planet, to talk with me, Joan, Jim and Tom.  Everest, 51, continues his long distance adventuring roam in the Sierra, a unique quest having to do with love and enlightenment.  At dinner, a bunch more PCT’rs gathered for real food.

Up and over stunning Silver Pass to camp in yet another hail storm at Lake Virginia with Cool Breeze, Growler and Puff Puff.  My last night before Mammoth, my beloved Thermarest NeoAir XTherm let me down after 1400 miles of cushy warmth.  I insulated myself from the cold, hard ground somewhat with my pack, clothes bag and rain gear underneath.  Sleep walked into Red’s, met by Jim, and transported to his Aunt Vel’s in Mammoth for a Mission IPA and homemade hummus.  And then a really delicious dinner at Mammoth Brewing Company accompanied by Jack White on the sound system.  I love Mammoth, I really do.