PCT 2019: Desert Redemption Extension
Day 5
June 22nd, 2019
“One can choose to go back towards safety or forward towards growth.”
We arrived at Walker Pass Campground feeling strong and with a desire to keep walking, so onward we went! We mingled with hikers at our newly earned seat at the Walker Pass picnic table.
Amidst the smorgasbord of trail magic were several bunches of garlic. Cosmo and I took a bunch each, and thus began a new habit of eating raw garlic with our meals.
Leaving Walker Pass we began our hike through the Owens Peak Wilderness.
Smiles and Twig: two Canadian hikers we met on our first day.
After a smooth hike through Owens Peak Wilderness we began a ten mile climb. I remember this climb from two years ago. Then, I was exhausted and weak and every step felt like a struggle. This day I felt strong and capable
At the top of the climb we found a primo campsite! In 2017 we were limited to camp sites that would accommodate our large hiking crew. Tonight we were excited to enjoy a small, beautiful, open spot all to ourselves!
Day 6
June 23rd, 2019
The barren landscape of an old desert burn area is oddly intriguing. Naked tree branches bend and curve in their own unique shapes and the absence of leaves reveals unobstructed views across the valley. Bold shades of red and purple wildflowers stick out amidst the beige desert grasses and pop in contrast to the blackened burnt bark of the trees.
I reached the top of a climb in the middle of the day and stood still, stopped in the tracks of my memories.
For a moment I was transported.
I reached a dirt road and found Cosmo gazing out at the clear sky - in the distance we could see a ball of smoke this was the first concern of a wildfire we had all season. We passed two hikers that turned around saying that the forest needed to be evacuated, cautiously we continued on.
Today, the sky is clear and there is no smell of smoke. Cosmo is far ahead and I am at this juncture alone. I look out at the scene but what I see is a resurrected memory. Memories from our 2017 thru-hike often find their way into my current consciousness with chill-inducing clarity. It isn’t always that the memory is of anything significant, and often I haven’t reflected on it at all since the day it happened. All it took was being back in this place, the sights, the smells, and suddenly it is all so clear. I wonder…will this memory be buried on top of the last, taking its place?
I stay for one more moment to soak it in before continuing on to catch up to Cosmo.
The late afternoon sun is hot and we are tired and covered in dirt. We search around for a place to camp and settle on a quiet spot near the Kern River.
Day 7
June 24th, 2019
We woke up and hiked the few short miles to Kennedy Meadows.
We arrived at Kennedy Meadows and were greeted by the customary cheer of fellow thru-hikers. For such a prominent landmark of this trail, however, the famous General Store was uncharacteristically devoid of a large thru-hiking crowd. Many had already flipped north in order to avoid the high snows and rivers of the High Sierra.
We were exhausted. We went to Grumpy Bears for lunch (and a break). As we ate we overheard conversations from various groups of hikers nervously talking through their plans for entering the mountains. After lunch we joined a small herd of hikers sitting outside of Yogi’s new gear shop. Most of the hikers were sorting through their resupply boxes and getting ready to go, I was envious of the length of their journey and the excitement of getting ready to be immersed in the Sierra for the first time.
We left Kennedy Meadows and found a hidden spot on the bank of the Kern River. We rinsed our clothes, rested our bodies, and sat in the warm sun with our feet cooling off in the swiftly flowing fresh water. Here we are safely nestled in our adventure. We are far from the noise of our city lives, past the point of planning a trip and we are still weeks away from needing to discuss, “what comes next”. Here we can stretch out in the sun and let our minds wander. We can connect to ourselves and each other in a deeper way, strengthening our bonds. Here…we can just be here.
We left the river with some sunlight left in the day and hiked a few more miles. We camped off trail within Sequoia National Forest. After setting up our campsite we played catch with one of our cork massage balls (don’t worry they are ultralight!) and enjoyed the evening outside as long as we could before the mosquitos exiled us to the tent.
Day 8
June 25th, 2019
Lavender flowers line the sandy trail, adding color to our morning stroll.
We reached an open meadow and gazed out in the distance at the snow-covered peaks in front of us.
We stopped for a snack next a wooden bridge at the south fork of the Kern River. We laid in the grass and watched as a few hikers played in the water and used their air mattresses as rafts to float downstream. A perfect morning in the Sierra summer.
The sun started to set and we set up camp high up on a rock, away from the trail with Olancha Peak (the southern most prominent peak in the Sierra) hovering above us. I don’t know if one of us said it out loud, or we both just thought it but we knew we must come back to bag that peak! The sunset was spectacular from our isolated rock island. In these moments life is sweet and simple. In these moments we have much to be grateful for. It is difficult to feel anything negative when you are surrounded by beauty and love at the magical hour of sunset in the Sierra. Unfortunately, there is one thing that can ruin a good time. Blood thirsty mosquitos!
Summer in the mountains here after a snowy winter means a summer of mosquitos and this evening they made their presence known with their incessant buzzing and blood sucking bites.
We said goodbye to the sun and took refuge from the bugs behind the mesh of our tent.
Day 9
June 26th, 2019
We reached Horseshoe Meadows, the spot we loosely declared would be our next re-assessment point. Looking out at the meadow, all the plants appeared vibrant, green and alive! One of the benefits of a wet winter is the beauty it reveals come spring and summer.
We caught a ride to town with two other hikers, Dr. Caterpillar and Smelly Cat. The hikers stayed in Lone Pine and Cosmo and I stuck our thumbs out along Highway 395 to make our way back to the car.
Kirk picked us up and drove us to Highway 178, the turn off to Walker Pass. There were few cars heading in our direction so Cosmo and I walked along the empty road until sunset. As darkness took over Cosmo became concerned for our safety, walking along the narrow shoulder in the coming darkness.
It’s dangerous to try and hitchhike in the dark and he wanted to set up camp off the road. I was hungry and stubborn knowing that the car was just a few miles away…but I knew Cosmo was right.
We were about to give up and set up camp off the side of the road when a pickup pulled over and motioned us in Such relief! We made it back to the car, our snacks, our beer, and set up a tent in the parking lot ready to discuss the next phase of adventure.
Day 10
June 27th, 2019
In the morning we drove back to Lone Pine, up Horseshoe Meadows Road and decided we would continue to hike north the following morning. By the time we arrived it was already getting late and we were almost packed up and ready to settle into sleep when a small group of hikers approached us in the parking lot. Lucky, Aloha, and Heart Burn were desperate to get to town. They had run out of food, were cold, and needed to catch a bus in the morning. Cosmo will never be the one to turn down a hiker in need, especially when that hiker is asking for a ride (something and he and I have often been in need of). So we drove them back down the long and winding road, nearly a half hour down the mountain to town.
Day 11
June 28th, 2019
We took Trail Pass to get back to the PCT and bumped into hikers that we had seen in town. Brie with her stylish turqouise Patagonia pants and her husband Ardha. We met a friendly fellow, Jason (no trail name yet), who approached us with the freshness and excitement of a John Muir Trail hiker just getting started.
By late afternoon we reached Rock Creek, our first big water crossing. We hesitated briefly, looking for the best place to cross. We met Rosan, a hiker from Brazil who was happy that Cosmo spoke Spanish so he could communicate with someone.
As is custom, I linked arms with Cosmo and we crossed with confidence. We hiked a few more miles up a steep ascent and camped just above Guyot Creek.
Day 12
June 29th, 2019
We entered the Mt. Whiney Zone (official name) where the trail is surrounded by granite peaks as it meanders around pristine lakes, crystal clear rivers, and vibrant meadows that look like they were pulled out of a fairy tale.
To arrive at a mountain lake and find Cosmo sitting under a tree with a book in hand and a smile on his face. These are the moments that don’t need words. Moments of pure bliss and shared experience.
Saw our first marmot of trail.
Wright Creek was our first challenge of the day. We approached the fiercely flowing rapids with more hesitation than we displayed last night at Rock Creek. Another hiker stood on the opposite side and must have sensed our concern because he came as close as he could and used a series of animated hand gestures to instruct us on what to do. The rapids were too loud for anyone to shout across the river. Cosmo crossed first using a fallen branch to hold onto through the white water. He then came back for me, took my backpack and together we crossed safely.
Just four miles past Wright Creek is Tyndall Creek, another challenging water crossing in big snow years. When we arrived at the spot where the trail crosses the creek we found the group of JMT hikers that passed by us a few days earlier. Much like in 2017, the loud, strong current was flowing far too quickly and fiercely to cross from the PCT juncture.
The JMT hikers were huddled together trying to come up with a solution, and together we all started to hike upstream. We walked for about half a mile before finding a calm section of the river, a spot that looked familiar from our first time around. The JMT hikers were hesitant but Cosmo and I felt confident, as we had been here before. We kept our sneakers on, took a deep breath to prepare for the extreme cold of the water and quickly trudged through the knee-deep water to the other side. The JMT hikers followed our lead and we all gave smiles and high fives safe and sound from the other side.
We hiked beyond grassy meadows and into snow-covered fields towards the base of Forester Pass. As we hike we get higher and higher in altitude, taking us above tree line. Much of the trail is still hidden beneath the snowy footprints of hikers, and we rely on these prints to find our way. The terrain is rugged and rocky (underneath the snow) and the basin is desolate and beautiful. It is easy to become mesmerized and distracted by the moonlike vastness that surrounds us but it is important to pay attention to each step. The route here is technical and can be treacherous. I move cautiously so as to not post hole knee deep in snow, slip on the ice or trip as I hike across loose scree fields.
We get close to Forester Pass and set up camp on a flat rocky spot. As we set up the tent and prepare our dinner we are mindful of a nearby marmot who has built a stakeout fort, watching and waiting for a vulnerable moment when he can move in on our food.
We are in awe with the scenery and use the last hour of daylight to relax and enjoy the paradise we are in.
Day 13
June 30th, 2019
From within the warmth and darkness of the tent I was awoken by the crunching sound of metal spikes clicking and clanking atop of frozen snow and the deep incomprehensible hum of hikers trying (unsuccessfully) to talk quietly. I opened my eyes and all I could see was a sporadically moving light darting around the tent like we were an object on a stage in a play where the spotlight operator had lost control.
Most hikers make a plan to begin hiking before dawn to reach the top of a mountain pass before the snow starts to soften in the sun. Cosmo and I are not most hikers.
I turned over to face my partner who was not all the way awake. “Should we be getting up this early?” “No.”muttered Cosmo without hesitation. I was happily relieved and happily returned to my sleep state. I much prefer to wait for the warmth of the sun to hit the tent and caress my skin, easing the otherwise chilly transition from sleeping bag to hiking clothes.
I felt much more confident now ascending Forester Pass than I did in 2017. We reached the top of the pass in late afternoon with the strongest sun rays shining down upon us. The snow was soft but easily traversable. Before I knew it we were up and over the highest official point on the PCT at 13, 153 feet. We had the pass to ourselves and few footprints to follow on the way down.
From the top we had the pass to ourselves. We took time to gaze out at the expansive snowy mountain range, we day dreamed about future adventures and explorations, we wondered what treasures were waiting for us to explore over passes we had not traveled and within basins off in the distance.
When it came time to descend we had no hikers to follow and the trail was buried under the snow. There were three sets of footprints in this choose-your-own-adventure, and we opted for the middle route. Climbing mountains, route finding, dangerous conditions, these characteristics require patience and good team work. Cosmo and I are constantly working on creating that balance for each other. At times frustration or confusion may creep in, but we know that our ability to communicate effectively is critical. It was slow going on the way down but at least we were in it together.
On our way down we stopped to chat with a group of PCT hikers sitting in a dry spot of grass enjoying a snack. As we talked I looked down to see sunflower seed shells sprawled all across the ground. Instinctually I bent over to pick them up. Cosmo and I don’t usually hesitate when we notice that a “trace” has been left by humans. I glanced up at Cosmo with a concerning look and he returned the glance with uncomfortable confusion. It hadn’t occurred to me that these shells might be the property of the hikers we were chatting with. It didn’t occur to me that PCT hikers (especially at this point in their journey) would not know the importance of leaving no trace. Quickly the non verbal communication turned into an apologetic conversation with the hikers. “Oh! We didn’t know that we couldn’t leave those there. They belong to us, we will get them!” Awkwardly, I continued to pick a few more up and mentioned the importance of not leaving any materials that we bring in, even if it is organic material.
As soon as Cosmo and I walked away we discussed the discomfort of being assertive to other people and speaking up for what we believe at the risk of social awkwardness. I appreciate Cosmo’s ability to always remain kind and keep the peace, and he let me know that he values my inability to stay quiet when it comes to something I believe in. I appreciate the way we learn and grow from one another. We have much work to do, but these experiences are always opportunities to learn. How could we have approached this situation better? How can we communicate in an effective and non judgemental way with people we encounter, and with one another?
We descended below the majority of snow by late afternoon and for a brief moment were separated by a confusing turn in the trail. I backtracked, and whistled and for a brief moment (that felt like an eternity) I had flashbacks of the night I spent alone on the PCT when Cosmo and I got separated. I felt uneasy in my stomach as panic warmed my blood. Luckily, we were not actually that far apart and before I knew it Cosmo appeared around the trail.
We let perfect camp spots pass us by, promising to snatch them up next time we see them. We decided to set up camp early just below Vidette Meadow next to Bubb’s Creek.
We thought we might have our campsite alone until a group of young men came and set up next to us. Once again we found ourselves come on now challenged by knowing when to speak up and when to be accepting and silent. The more I learn about outdoor etiquette, conservation and environmental stewardship, the more passionate I become about the spreading the word. I recognize it is critical to the well-being of our modern day society that more people take advantage of the great outdoors and enjoy their time in the wilderness. I struggle with finding my voice in scenarios when I want to share information and learn from one another.
The hikers that set up next to us were a friendly group of young men. They were laughing and enjoying each other’s company throughout the evening. The noise was something I was willing to let go of, we were at a campground after all, how much of a curmudgeon do I want to be? What I could not ignore was the young man I saw leave the group with his small axe and start chopping at living trees to use as fire wood. He hacked at healthy, green branches, the sound of his axe echoing through the forest. At a loss for words, Cosmo put his head in his hands and said “Those won’t even burn.” I was incredulous. “Dude!” I yelled through the trees to this tank-topped bro. His friends became quiet and turned to face me, but the axing continued. “Hey! Don’t cut down the live trees here! There’s plenty of wood around for your fire.” He grunted an “Uh” in my direction and trudged back to his camp.
Day 14
July 1st, 2019
The next morning we took our time as we hiked over Kearsarge Pass, stopping at each lake to sit, read, meditate and drink coffee. We chose not to go right into town so we set up camp early just above the parking lot, still hidden within the safe space of our wild utopia.
Day 15
July 2nd, 2019
We woke up in the morning, packed up our things and continued down the trail to the Onion Valley Campground / Parking Lot. We were not yet ready to get in a car, so we decided to walk down the winding road towards town.
We hiked for about six miles before a van full of hikers pulled over and encouraged us to get in. We were dropped off in the town of Lone Pine in 100 degree weather. Cosmo and I retrieved our car and drove to the Alabama Hills (in the outskirts of Lone Pine) and set up camp amidst the bizarre rock structures and sand dunes that sit in the shadows of the majestic Sierra Nevada peaks.
