PCT Days 66 to 70: The New Millennium

Aid. I need new music. I ran out of my current playlist. Please leave suggestions in the comments. I like indie rock/pop, I think of The Band CAMINO, The WLDLFE, nightly and The Strike.

Day 66: Yosemite zero.

Today was another blessed zero in one of the most beautiful places in the world. Unfortunately, our campsite neighbors had no idea about the shared spaces and decided to wake up at 4:30 without caring at all about their volume. Ugh, the lack of respect. I fell asleep again, which was nice. After a second slower awakening, I walked down the street for a coffee and a place to blog. A beautiful, warm Saturday in the heart of Yosemite Valley. I remember being in this same place a little over five years ago on my road trip. People of all ages stroll, observe and take photographs of the various waterfalls, granite walls and… squirrels. It was a shock to the system to be in the hustle and bustle of human civilization. I longed for the quiet of the desert, but appreciated the beauty of the valley and the lack of hiking (comparatively). However, I was paranoid about getting sick from touching a door handle or something similar.

After writing, I returned to find the group relaxing on the shore of the Merced River, along with dozens of other visitors. Shoeski’s friends had come from Los Angeles over the weekend and brought an RC car to play with. It was fun to watch people send this thing over hills of sand and dirt, without a rock or a foot stopping it from reaching its destination.

At dinner time, the Los Angeles team brought their A game, because we were able to enjoy carne asada tacos and ceviche. What a pleasure it was not to cook ourselves and enjoy a hot meal full of freshness. We all sat around the campfire talking, drinking and eating. It was a perfect summer night. At sunset, we drove to El Capitan to watch the climbers. With binoculars we only found some ropes and equipment on El Cap, but we did see a group climbing the wall in front of El Cap. They are BRAVE. And magical.

Day 67: First storm.

I left late, but this time I had a big breakfast, including lots of ceviche, sausage, and bacon. I also started listening game changer after being on the waiting list for over a month. Finally a hot romance with real human emotions! Not like the disappointing Say you’ll remember me Branded as a romance, but it was actually a soapy family drama.

It was a slow return to nature, as we returned to the trail around noon, the weather still very hot and sunny. I headed north from Tuolumne Meadows passing through fields of tall grasses and waterfalls. I could see dark gray clouds to the east moving closer towards me, the thunder growing louder with every step. Around 3 in the morning, I was among a pine forest when the thunder became so strong that I quickly fell and took refuge in my tent. Mystically, a huge rain fell just as I jumped inside and I could see lightning through the roof vent. Thunder echoed in the sky for a long time and originated right above me. For thirty minutes, I crouched with my feet on my mat hoping this would be grounded enough. Finally, listening to the rain and thunder, I took a short nap as I saw my Garmin weather report that the storm would last a while.

It was a kind of peace to hear the rain fall heavily on the tent. It reminded me of summer afternoons at my family’s cabin, the droplets bouncing off the tin roof, creating white noise and a fresh scent perfect for falling asleep. Here, the storm stopped after about two hours, so I hurriedly packed my bags to make up the miles. In the end I didn’t get the miles done or have lunch or dinner, plus I took a wrong turn that turned into two wasted miles. I chose a campsite just before the 10pm group, tired as a dog and ready to be done.

Day 68: Fleeing the fumes in mosquito hell.

So no dinner was a mistake. I slept until 7:30 and barely had the strength to leave at 8:15. I was absolutely out of power, not even an emergency ramen pump helped. I couldn’t move my legs, it was slow and sticky like molasses. I was so fatigued that it took me five hours to walk seven miles. No amount of food would save me now. You’re an idiot. Your dinners restore your glycogen and now you have none. Of course you feel like shit.

At a snail’s pace, I climbed the Benson and Seavey passes, nothing reminiscent of the previous passes but still requiring a fair amount of uphill work. I was able to admire the granite valley and the prolific streams that flowed between them. The pine trees and forest floor were lush with vegetation in contrast to the austere alpine areas before. At one point on top of Seavey, it began to rain while there was still sun, creating a rainbow between the ponds located between the mountains.

I was grateful to have regained enough energy to get through those steps, which got me to a respectable 21 miles for the day, but I was still three miles away from making it to the group. I was walking through swampy conditions as Yosemite mud coated my shoes and ankles. Going down to Kerrick Creek, the mosquitoes were absolutely crazy. I moved my arms constantly as if I were wearing a PASS device. Hitting my arms every few seconds, these insects were relentless in their bloodlust. They annihilated my body with bites. Just after crossing the stream, I frantically set up my tent, fighting off most of the bugs, but they still bit me. I put my bag and myself inside while holding the hall door open so I could prepare dinner. My door became a extractor hood when I opened the zipper slightly to access the pot. I was so glad to have a dehydrated meal tonight that only required boiling water. I ate the nutritious dinner in my tent while mosquitoes covered the screen door, a futile attempt to gain entry.

Day 69: Beautiful day for a new millennium.

I set my alarm for 4:30 and left at 5:30. This was a feeble attempt to catch my group, who for the second day had still not been caught and remained 3 or 4 miles behind. The morning starts with two big ups and downs for five actual miles, then pretty much flat or downhill the rest of the day. This would be a great day to meet up with the group as it was the flattest of the entire Sierra section.

I met up again with Monty, whom I had met at Muir Pass, climbing the winding canyon trail with a determination I couldn’t possess. However, once the climbs were over, it was time to focus on logging the miles as we crossed more godforsaken streams, meadows, and swamps. At a river crossing, I met a girl who had packed a Yosemite beer… three days ago. What patience and dedication.

Overall, it was a cold day, but hot in the sun and plagued with bugs depending on how close you were to anything resembling water. I felt much more energized today thanks to the food. Around mid-afternoon, I reached Lake Dorothy, the northernmost Yosemite landmark on the trail, and entered. I didn’t spend much time here, but this was my favorite alpine lake of the trip. I loved feeling the refreshing water cool me down and could have stayed all day. Unfortunately, there was work to be done.

A long time ago at CLEEF, when Scout and Frodo were hosts, they signed a bookplate sticker for me. They should have told me the name of the lake in the box, but I didn’t hear them well and I only knew that it was in the mile 900-1000 section. I had been nearing the end of the 900s and nothing was clicking, but upon arriving at Dorothy Lake, I met my match.

Only later, once I got to Tahoe and looked for the painting, did I learn it was Thousand Island Lake and not Dorothy. Well, it’s pretty close and the feeling still stands.

Two miles beyond the park boundary, I hit 1000 miles, incredible. Quadruple digits. It got to the point where it felt like another 100, but it was only by really thinking about it that I was able to understand what I had achieved. A thousand miles. ‘Cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles. I celebrated the moment with other hikers at the stone monument, including Giardia Man (who I learned is actually Mosby).

I still had eight more miles to go, so I logged on and listened to my book. At that moment, a sudden hail and rain storm made for an uncomfortable twenty minutes. After what was a long 43 kilometers, I arrived at camp just as the sun began to set. My group was already brushing their teeth when I walked in, but I was very happy to see them. I returned to cooking from my thin hood, looking at the pink beaks and the possible family of foxes running below.

Day 70: The highest Sierra moves behind us.

The group had a daring plan to arrive at Sonora Pass at 9:30 to catch a ferry to Kennedy Meadows North. It was ambitious even by their standards, but we tried anyway and we all left at 5:30. The trail began with a big, steep, non-horse-friendly climb along the edge of a ridge as the sun rose to greet us. The shaded snowfields were sheets of thick ice and very slippery. It also looked like this part of the trail was as wide as a one-lane road. An old wagon road? We saw a trail to Emigrant Pass at one point.

For the rest of the morning we traversed more snow and scree bowls. We could see the view change from sharp granite to grayish red puma. We even saw Kul Cat and Muffin Man along the way. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw them walking and not in the city.

At mile three, I knew I wouldn’t make it to 9:30. However, as I headed towards Sonora Pass, I opened a trail sliding on soft snow. I even saw snowboarders camped below and their S-shaped boards above. When I got by, I was expecting to wait a while, but Suave and Shoeski spotted a problem right away. Packed into the open back of a pickup truck with Monty and everyone’s crew, we hit Highway 108, cornering too fast as the smell of brakes clouded the air. It was beautiful though, which made up for the fear.

We all survived the trip to KMN and Monty told me something that stuck. He always said how slow I am, that I’m always last and that frustrated me. I complained that my walking days were always longer and it made me tired.

‘It’s not about miles per hour. It’s miles per day.‘

You are right. I do miles almost every day. I’m still on track and moving fast, even if it takes me longer. I realized it was something to be proud of. My body has adapted to this hiking routine and has done well. Once I heard that, my entire way of thinking changed for the better.

At KMN, it was certainly a hot day. Visitors camped, glamped or rode horses. The restaurant made a sad cheeseburger and offered an expensive refill: $43 for 1-2 days of food. At least they had dirty clothes because damn, I needed them. There wasn’t much time for anything else, as the return bus left in the early afternoon. Maybe it would have been better if we had more time to relax.

14 people and a dog packed into a transit van to return to the pass. The engine screeched as we drove up and down those same hills and curves, while our driver gave us a history lesson and talked about the pioneer deaths on this road. Super encouraging. On the trail, our group hiked 10 more miles up and down into a canyon. It was difficult to be in and out of the «city», so my mind was not completely occupied with the walk. I finished game changer and I enjoyed how all the characters got what they wanted. At camp, we had dinner with some new faces, Forerunner and Pics, while looking out over the river from the rocks above.