Memories from June 19.

Happy Father’s Day! I don’t have network (as some German hikers say) so I can’t call and I don’t know when this will get uploaded but I wanted to say that anyways.

Anda and I took the long climb up to Silver Pass. The Pass is below 11000ft but we were coming from about 8000ft.

The most fun stream crossing yet was right next to a waterfall. It looked really impressive but the water itself wasn’t moving quickly.

Silver Pass had the traditional snowy approach though the tracks were pretty easy to follow.

Silver Pass is at the first dip in the ridge on the left.

Looking back from the pass.

Above the Pass looking down. Silver Pass is unique in that once cresting it you have to go up a little more. However the tracks in the snow lead straight. I spotted what looked like a little bit of trail above the pass so we hiked straight up to it.

On the way down, there were a number if old tracks through the snow which formed trenches. I’ve heard the red color is due to an algae.

The descent from this ridge was a little strange.  The trail technically runs its entire length and switch backs down off the right side of the picture. Most people just walked far enough that they were comfortable glissading which left lots of options for tracks to follow.

Cliffhanger (formerly Half-Spoon) and Cookie Monster (who wants a different trail name) passed us but didn’t make it very far then passed us again.

Just another pretty picture.

We camped with Bushwhack, Prancer, Cliffhanger, Cookie Monster, and Ripper.  Bushwhack and Prancer hadn’t found the trail above Silver Pass and had lived up to the former’s name though it sounded like the living part of it was not a clear guarantee from some of the slides that happened.

Memories from June 18

I spent the morning lounging around and playing soccer with MP3. He set out into the Sierras a few weeks before I did had a crazy story from his trip over Forrester Pass: turning back because of wind, trying to get over Shepherd’s Pass instead and it being too icy, having to wait out storms, people running out of food, a helicopter dropping food and evacuating an injured person. To be clear, he was sufficiently prepared, and it wasn’t him that ran out of food but it shows how much conditions can change in a short time.

In the afternoon, Anda, a hiking buddy from home showed up. She’s taking a week off of work and joining me for this section of the Sierras. We took the ferry back to the trail and camped by Mono Creek where I had before coming to VVR. It was strange being in a vehicle which could move fast enough that things near you moved faster than things in the distance.

Memories from June 17

This morning I hiked into Vermilion Valley Resort by the trail north of the lake. Tomorrow, I’m meeting a friend from home who will join me for a week. I’ve been going slowly the last few days so as to not get there early and sit on my hands spending lots of money.

VVR is on the corner of Thomas A Edison Lake which doesn’t seem to have quite recovered from the California droughts but is pretty nonetheless.

VVR is very hiker friendly. Camping is free and so is your first beer. They have loaner clothes to wear while you do laundry. I grabbed what I thought was a Hawaiian shirt thinking of having a throwback to the Anderson’s who greet you with a Hawaiian shirt to wear during your stay. It turned out to be a little long.

On the way in I saw Nana and Indy who’d been forced to camp in the thunder storm I’d heard the night after Muir Pass. They were close enough that the hair on their arms stood up when the charge for a lightning strike built up.

I had chocolate peanut butter milkshakes with lunch and dinner and picked up a pair of gloves to replace the ones I probably left at the Muir Pass shelter. Otherwise I passed the time hanging out with other hikers.

Memories from June 16

It was pretty cold last night. Not so cold as to be notable but cold in a way which makes it seem closer to winter than summer despite the opposite being true. My thermometer, whose accuracy I don’t completely trust read 40°F just before dark last night. Between this and the weather from a few days ago, any buyers remorse I had about getting a second sleeping bag, designed for winter, just for the Sierras, is completely gone. Every day when I struggle stuff the giant thing into my little pack already occupied mostly by a bear canister, I think how nice it was to not have been freezing last night.

Today was pretty uneventful so I’ll talk about the amusing distribution of bridges on the trail. All pictures are from this morning though many days in the Sierras provoke the question why one stream or creek is bridged and another is not.

Here’s a case where I used three logs to get across without getting my feet wet. This guy just decided to get wet. I guess there’s no bridge because it’s seasonal.

Here, on the other hand is a bridge which someone clearly invested a lot of time in. The stream looks seasonal but one might say it was done because the ditch is so deep. First, you regularly have to make jumps this far on rock hops to keep your feet dry. Second, it’s shallower above and below the crossing so you could go a little off trail as is frequently done at any stream crossing involving the potential for wet feet.

Finally, here’s the bridge over Mono Creek. Given the width, depth, and speed if the creek, it seems pretty reasonable.

By normal PCT standards, however, there’s already a bridge. See those logs? They look pretty stable. There are two other log bridges around the bend.

In case this comes across like a gripe as opposed to an exploration of the amusing, I should say that it’s a huge treat to cross a bridge wherever they are on the trail and a fair evaluation of the situation will usually result in a deep gratitude in not having to trudge up and down the bank looking for a safe ford.

To wrap up the bridge theme, I camped tonight just before the Mono Creek bridge and built a fire for a very pleasant evening.

Memories from June 15

Continuing the recent theme of going slow in the Sierras, I didn’t do much in the way of miles today but those miles contained a pass and a notable stream crossing.

Selden Pass was close in both mileage and height. With relatively little snow on the south side, it was the first pass I created without microspikes.

Looking back at Sallie Keys Lake where I spent the night.

Not the most intimidating of passes.

A marmot sits and considers a passing hiker as is their way. Without a zoom lens on my camera phone it’s hard to get a good picture of them but marmots are a frequent sight up here.

From the crest of Selden Pass, looking back to the south.

And now looking north.

My trip down from Selden contained one of the longer games if Where’s the Trail? that I’ve played. Fortunately the terrain was pretty simple and I won eventually.

An example decision from playing hide and seek with the trail. No tracks (you followed them here over snow which has ended), no trail, the map says the trail is between the ridge to your right (off the right of the picture) and the stream to your left. Of course there could be a larger stream on the other side of those rocks. Do you follow the stream? Cross it and look for a larger one or diverge right from this stream. Of cours,e you could pull out a GPS but where’s the fun in that?

After a few more miles (in the trail’s pleasant company’s), I came to Bear Creek which is marked in the notes I have as being potentially dangerous to cross. It came up high on my thigh but wasn’t moving particularly quickly. After a big rain (like a few days ago), I can imagine it being waist deep and fast though.

I washed in Bear Creek since I got wet during the crossing and left my clothes out to dry. Then the sun hid behind a cloud. After eating a bunch of food I put on my mostly dry outer clothes and hiked commando and without socks so the movement would at least warm me. Even at noon, the temperature in the shade is still cool.

A short distance down the trail, I set up camp in an existing campsite by a bend in the creek, let my clothes dry, thought some deep thoughts, and in the late afternoon wasted all but four matches from a new matchbook starting a fire which kept me company until bedtime.

Memories from June 14

After a pleasant sleep-in, breakfast, and conversation Brandon and Matt departed around 10am. Brandon had been cold again in his hammock and so had wound up sleeping on the ground. I finished letting my permits dry. Something had poked through both of the Zip Lock freezer bags and trapped a bunch of moisture inside. The color didn’t run much so expect they’re still valid.

Leaving the Muir Ranch area, there’s supposed to be a shortcut back to the PCT. I’m really confused about what happened other than that the shortcut is definitely not where I thought it was. After hiking over a mile towards Florence and having to backtrack, I gave up on map reading and just followed trail signs for Selden Pass even though I thought I’d come from that direction on my way in. I must have seriously mis-remembered something because when I checked my GPS app expecting to almost be back to the PCT, I was about two miles down it. Apparently I took the Sallie Keys Cutoff unintentionally after having given up on finding it.

The trail climbed towards Selden Pass and overlooked one of the wider valleys I remember seeing in the Sierras.

However, due to some misunderstanding and conservative planning on my part, my next resupply is in Vermilion Valley Resort (VVR) about 20 miles away but on June 18th. So the question becomes, how slow can you go? This is actually fine since it’ll give me some time to focus on the introspection oriented goals for this trip and do so in one of the more desirable sections of trail. All of this is to say that instead of going over Selden Pass which would have been a trivial matter given the entire afternoon, I set up camp at Sallie Keys Lake before 2pm, finished listening to the Divine Conspiracy, and started a todo list for VVR to clean out my head.

Given how little I had to do today, it’s funny I didn’t take more pictures but here’s one from shortly before the lake. There weren’t a lot of open, well composed views.

Memories from June 13

I spent the day hanging out with Brandon and Matt who came out yesterday to resupply me. The river looks a little shallower today but is still too deep, wide, fast, and cold for a safe crossing. Brandon and Matt were in hammocks and quite cold last night so they slept in while I caught up on blog entries.

With the lack of sun the last few days I haven’t wanted to use my phone for anything but its camera and GPS otherwise I’d risk running out if battery. Fortunately, the sun was out this morning and I could out out my solar panel.

The sun greets me as I open my tent flap. Hasn’t happened for a few days.

We took a short day hike down a trail towards Kings Canyon National Park which wasn’t on any of our maps. It just lead along the river so we enjoyed the scenery and napped.

Brandon and Matt introduced me to MREs which they’d brought. On the whole, they seem slightly better than most rehydrated backpacking food. There was a Creamsicle Cookie which was so good I can’t believe it’s not more widely available.

Back at camp we lounged around a fire until shortly before sunset. The fire was significantly better at keeping the mosquitoes at bay than my previously unused 100% DEET bug spray. I guess that’s another item to leave in the next hiker box.

Memories from June 12

Today’s main event was crossing Evolution Creek. It’s very deep, fast, and wide so at this point in the season we had to use an alternate route which is merely wide and deep but not fast. Still deep enough to prompt the quote of the day, “Is this a pants on break?” Which closely mimics the frequent question during group stops, “Is this a shoes off break?”. Photos exist but because this is a public blog and it was also cold, here’s the only one I took.

The morning started with the discovery that it had snowed. My poncho-tent doesn’t have much in the way if structure and so had bowed in and the walls were wetting my sleeping bag with condensation.

At least the view was pretty.

After extensive negotiations held in dramatic tones through closed tent walls, Camille and Lilly, Stitches, Bright Side and I decided to leave assuming we’d be warmer on the move. The negations were complicated by trees maintaining the illusion of precipitation by dropping snow and water on the tents.

After crossing the Evolution Creek Alternate we found a campsite at the bottom of a set of switchbacks. Camille, Lilly, and Bright Side spent and hour getting a proper fire going using my old paper maps, a lot of wet wood, and sometimes the help of hail and rain donated my Mother Nature. Once it got going, it was a thing of beauty. Eventually the rest showed up but not before we’d wondered if they’d decided to wait out the day’s weather.

In the early afternoon we carried on with the cooperation of the local clouds which compromised on keeping it to a spitting rain at most.

There were several bridge crossings which were much less involved than the morning’s river crossing.

Since I’m meeting a friend at Muir Trail Ranch for resupply and the rest were continuing to Vermilion Valley Resort or Mammoth for resupply, we eventually parted ways. I hope to see them down the trail.

After asking a guy at Muir Trail Ranch (closed until June 15) whether my friend had stopped by (no) and misunderstanding some directions he’d given me, I decided that the hot springs would be a good place to wait.

Unfortunately there was a river in the way. From some defeated hikers on their way back from it, it was hip deep just a few steps in. I went to see for myself and it appeared to be flowing faster than an most people can swim so I decided to spend the night at one of the many campsites placed, surprisingly, on the opposite side of the river from the hot springs. Apparently other people have had this issue as well

Mama Lion and her son Boon were camped nearby so I tried to start a fire. Despite our best efforts it never really got to the point where it could live for more than a few minutes without rescue breathing.

Out of nowhere Branden, my friend bringing the resupply showed up. He and his cousin Matt had camped at an earlier site which explained why he materialized without a backpack. I had dinner with them and returned to my site for the night.

Memories from June 11

Today was hands-down the most crazy, adventurous day on the trail.

I had been extremely lacking in energy last night (ex: I got winded collecting fire wood) but wound up getting up around 4am anyways which is good because it was still 6 miles out and 2000ft up to Muir Pass. We’d been warned that there were 2 miles of snow on this side if the pass and 5 on the other. Early mornings mean hard snow which is easier to move on.

The day’s hike opened with a number of small stream crossings. Having passed what I though was the trickiest section on this one (I was rock hopping to keep my shoes dry), I my foot slipped on a slimy rock and I fell hard. For better or worse, I was in a section surrounded by other rocks and so didn’t get wet, just winded.

Shortly after that was a multi-part crossing at which the tracks in the snow stopped cold. I was not feeling up for it but wound up getting across with just a little water getting into the mesh of my right outside forefoot.

The trail was mostly under snow but peeked out from time to time as a reassurance. It followed the stream which cut in and out of the snow.

Muir has the most complex approach of any Pass I’ve crossed so far. In hindsight it’s never so bad but I misidentified Helen Lake which was what I was using as an anchor to identify the correct pass. Fortunately, it was a simple case of false pass where the thing you think is a pass is actually just more trail to the correct pass. It turns out Easy and Rip Snorter had also misidentified Muir Pass but they’d tried to take a shortcut and felt distinctly outclassed by the terrain.

Crossing the outlet of Helen Lake.

I had been noticing that the sky wasn’t being it’s normal, blue, late spring self.

Muir Pass is just to the right of the little point in the middle of the saddle. Just after taking this picture two snowflakes decided to ominously fly by.

Fortunately, there’s a weather shelter at Muir Pass.

Because then this rolled in.

The rest of my group had left at 5:30am or 6:00am and so had about an hour of hiking in the snowstorm. I left the shelter and stood at the top of the last slope up to the pass. I was able to see everyone for about the last 3/4 of a mile of their approach when they weren’t behind outcroppings of rocks. Camille later said that seeing someone up there was a confidence lending confirmation that they were on the right route which made me glad.

We waited in the shelter eating and playing word games in until the snow stopped. We weren’t fooled the first time it stopped. There was an interesting conversation to decide the latest time we were willing to leave the shelter given that we didn’t want get stuck in the dark, post holing through fresh, tackless snow. Drops of water started forming of the stones if the shelter’s roof and falling on us and our gear. It was still preferable to the storm.

When we finally decided to leave it was around 1pm. The clouds seemed to be forming an upside down bowl with us in the middle but it seemed we had a good chance of getting down to lower, probably warmer, more navigable terrain before another big weather event.

As we got below the snow line the sun began to peek out… behind up. We were heading away from its warming, drying effects.

We camped in a light rain after a sloshing tramp into the valley. Admittedly, it was much prettier than if the day had been hot and bright. The diffuse light and general damp seem to make colors less uniform.

Due to the weather, there wasn’t much group socialization which required us to be outside. I could hear the sounds of some of the others talking through closed tent flaps. At some point it started to hail (see the ground visible around my poncho-tent). My poncho-tent held up just fine.

As I was dozing off after listening to and audio book, distant lighting and thunder started and I instinctively would count the seconds between the flash and the clap. There seemed to be two clusters if lightning, one at 17-20 miles away and the other at 8-10. The latter is about the distance we’d come from Muir Pass and the former is a little farther than we’d camped the night before. Who knows where the strikes actually were but I’d glad to be passed the pass.

Memories from June 10

I started out early as I do for most passes. The pre-sunrise light and clouds made a great show over the walls of the valley on the approach to Mather Pass.

I’d planned on keeping my feet dry as much as possible (some days you just give up or decide it’s not worth the hassle). Unfortunately, just a mile or so in, I slipped off this rock on a trivial rock hop over an insignificant stream. Also, while I don’t know for sure it was here, I might have lost a water bottle when I slipped here since I now only have one.

I was following tracks over the snow an when they disappeared into a patch of dirt and rock, I pulled out my map and misidentified the pass. I thought it was between the small reddish one on the left and the left of the center ridge in picture below. It’s actually just to the right of the picture.

There were two other people in the valley, both of whom were also lost. Maverick was following tracks to the wrong pass and Bourbon’s GPS wasn’t getting a fix. Collectively, we found the trail and stayed in a loose group until getting down the other side.

A view of Mather from just below the switchbacks.

Having crested the pass.

The way down.

Bourbon lost control on an icy glissade and scraped his legs up but we found all the gear which had fallen out of his pack.

Descent to the valley.

We split up after the lake and I flew downhill. It was a long stretch down and Bourbon naturally hikes quickly which pushed me into super hiker mode where I run/jump over obstacles and become like a four legged animal with how much I use my trekking poles. I descended the Golden Staircase at breakneck speed. On the way down, I ran across Mama Lion and her son Boon who are hiking the PCT together. This is the second time I’ve seen kids on the trail and it impressed me a great deal.

The plan was to go 15 miles and then regroup and decide how much farther to go. I ate and dozed. A bee came to visit.

I woke to the crunching sound of a boot on trail just in time see Lilly wave at me and keep hiking. I packed up, drew water, and got back to my pack in time to see Camille looking around for me. He informed me that the plan was to go to Big Pete Meadow about five miles away.

The rest of the day wasn’t particularly eventful. There were mosquitoes in camp and I hope it’s not a trend which continues. There were some more clouds in the evening than usual but I cowboy camped anyways.