Forester pass: face my fears

August 17 – Bubbs Creek A Forester Pass A Tyndall Creek

A relaxed beginning

We have a later start today. Most of the other campers had already left early, chasing the coldest hours of the morning. After so many consecutive days of 20 miles, a 11 -mile walk felt almost easy. We were not hurried, a welcome change of our exhausting schedule. We kept our eyes wide open so that the bear is rumored to frequent this site, but the young upriver did not look anywhere.

Kim had a restless night and barely slept. My morning was not much better: I had to drown my fight for breakfast, although at least hot chocolate fell easily and warmed me. Even so, despite the difficult beginning, I felt ready to face Forester Pass. I knew I would try me, but I was determined to face the front challenge.

The rise to Forester Pass

The rise to Forester Pass was a stable and gradual uphill, much easier than I expected. After the long and punishing days we had, he felt like a gift. With 13,153 feet, Forester was the highest pass that we had uploaded so far, which caused him to reach the top he felt even more gratifying.

Standing there, we couldn’t help thinking in advance Monte WhitneyOur final destination at 14,505 feet. Conquering Forester gave us the feeling that we were ready for the challenge: Whitney would be difficult, but finally felt within reach. We also meet with the two ladies to make the JMT section, exchanging jokes before moving forward.

Feared descent from Forester Pass

Just when we were leaving, I wasn’t sure where the path went from. I saw a strong fall with fingerprints and I assumed that this was the way. I even dropped my backpack, ready to slide it through the steep ramp before making my descent. Fortunately, a spectator stopped me, he leaves that was just surveillance. The true path was above and much less heartbreaking.

I was proud of my willingness to address this descent if necessary. Forester Pass had been my nemesis for months. Every photo I had seen showed a single and steep change carved in a pure slope, and had built it in my mind as a terrifying.

When we arrived at that steep section on the road down, I prepared, and then simply walked down. Don’t be misunderstood, I was nervous, I hugged the mountain and took it easy. I made sure that every step was solid like a rock before moving forward, but there was no panic in the past.

A medical emergency on the path

From there, the path fell to Tyndall Creek, where we camped to spend the night. Along the way, we met a small group, a man was struggling to breathe after leaving the other side of Forester. He asked if we had an inhaler or albuterol, but we didn’t.

He and his hiking companion discussed whether it was the evil of altitude or simply anxiety. With almost 11,000 feet, the lack of breath is not uncommon for those new in elevation. It can be very disconcerting and anxiety inductor, which only worsens breathing. We pointed to the nearby ranger station, and a few hours later we listened to the distinctive helm of a helicopter and we asked if it was for him.

A quiet night on Tyndall Creek

We arrive at the camp in the late afternoon with a long time to rest, eat and immerse ourselves in tranquility before our thrust towards Mount Whitney. For tomorrow, we would be camping at the base of the highest peak in the United States, and the southern terminal of the JMT. We couldn’t believe we were so close to finishing. While we dream of life after the path, our talk became fresh food and showers, the two things we miss the most.

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