Night walks, plateaus and passes: PCT Days 66 to 68

I woke up at 6pm. Why was I awake? I had risen around midnight, I walked and returned to Monte Whitney, and I could only sleep at 3 pm. Why was I awake after only 3 hours?

And yet, I was awake. Totally awake, my body that tells me that sleeping would not return to a few hours again, and I also felt inexplicably good. It should be absolutely shattered from that ascent! And yet, my body told me that it felt great, ready to walk even.

So, that’s what I did. I thought that if I was going to be awake, I could be walking, so I packed, ate a snake and moved, leaving the camp around 8 pm the good feeling persisted while walking. Maybe I could prepare to make the Forestry pass tomorrow?

Everything ended abruptly, however, at the time I tried to go even a little uphill. At that moment, my body remembered the evidence that had spent only hours before and the weakness shook the knees. I reduced my rhythm and managed to reach the fortunately small hill and the feeling of well -being even returned once I was in flat terrain, but it was clear that my reserves were basically empty.

The stars are brilliant here!

Even so, I managed to walk 4 miles full that night before my body told me that I could go back to sleep. I camped next to a large water crossing, letting the roar put me to sleep quickly.

Day 67: That is not my path name

I woke up with mild pain, the pain and fatigue strangely delayed from Mount Whitney had finally reached me. I let it be a slow morning, I only left the camp at 9. As I expected, I had to vote for the river that I camped next to what it means that my shoes were immediately soaked. I walked, cast with each step, because I knew that another river was approaching shortly; I would dry them later.

An easy water crossing to start; They would get more difficult.

In the second River Crossing, however, the sister, soup, sprite, flash and clandestine bar reached me and suddenly we were walking as a group. Everyone had left Crabtree Meadows this morning and had covered the 4 miles that I had already walked on my night excursion. We take a break in a picturesque meadow to let our shoes dry.

I also made a small knitting fabric. Still on the foot increases but moving forward.

After walking a little further, we arrive at the Bighorn plateau, and only Wow. Incredible mountain views in all directions, a lake, marmotas, this place had everything.

Sometimes you have a guitar air.

We crossed a more significant river and camped around 1 PM we were about 5 miles from Forester Pass, the highest point along the PCT, and we would get up at 3 am to overcome it before the snow was muddy.

Forester Pass wearing a little intimidating in the distance.

We ate lunch/dinner (Linner?) Together. He was making strangely cold and some snowflakes even fell. He seriously regretted having camp shoes; My path runners were cold and clumsy every time I had to put my feet in them. During dinner while talking about journey bidets, I shared my story of using uranium water in mine. Sprite immediately tried to give me the name of the Hulk’s Butthole path and thank God that Knitwit already had because, if not, I have kept this.

After dinner, I taught soup baseball stitches to be able to repair their leggings, then removed to my store. Many other hikers appeared to this camp and was filling a little. It was the last camp marked before Forester in Farout and this must have been a popular plan. The night became colder and fueled properly before finding my dream finally.

Day 68: A multipass day

Indeed, he was at 3 and walked by 4. The camp in the dark looked completely different from the day and managed to lose myself, needing him to get up to the road. Fortunately, sister sister and showder realized that I wasn’t with them and I looked again.

Hair lamps in the morning light.

The walk to the forest base was one of slow accents through an increasingly snowy terrain. We cross the thaw streams, cross the ice and rush on rocks. When I was just a hill at the base of the pass, a strange rumble divided the air. When I arrived at the beginning of the ascent, I learned from others that I missed a rock slip near the area we were going to upload!

It turns out that he was also closely intimidating!

Forester Escallar looked a lot like Mount Whitney. There were long and rocky curved curves. Unlike Whitney, however, the only snowfall where I felt that I needed my ice ax was just below the upper part, just below the cornice (a drop of snow without support without support; very dangerous to walk).

The final part snowed near the top. Photo courtesy of Rambler.

I arrived at the beak around 7:15 after just an hour of climbing. Very far from Whitney!

Pico posing.

There was a Pika, the first one I had seen on the path, wandering around the top and the rocks around us occasionally produced an acute squeak that knew that I had to be close.

Clearly, a student from the school of thought «If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.»

It was a long snow that crosses down, but fortunately it is relatively easy. The sun had not been awake for a long time, so the snow was still firm and the ice ax and the microspikes bit well. There was a Glissade route from the top of Forester to the shores of the partially frozen lake, but I decided that my first glissade should probably not be a 1000 feet decrease. Anyway, I have to make a much more short and safe glissade near the bottom.

Long and snowy draw down.

Shortly after meeting String and PDF and walked with them for a while. The snow was clarified when we separated in the valley below. I updated yesterday’s hiking gang for lunch. We had had a great time and the tentative plan to go through Kearsarge Pass to enter Bishop today suddenly felt within reach!

The valley was wooded and lush.

I went up while chatting with flash. PDF and String reached us and joined our hiking group. However, the climb by the side of Kearsarge was long and ended with flash, sprite and clandestine bar near the end of the tail of our package.

Feeling much less energetic than the photo of the pass of the previous day.

The road down was also hard. The snow was not so bad, but like Whitney’s last miles, fatigue was established and did what should have been easy. However, I finally arrived at the beginning of the path and I finally broke the 20 mile barrier. 22 miles, 5400 feet of elevation and 2 mountain passes made the achievement even more impressive.

Chowder, Sister Blister, 100 Grand, and I managed to take a walk with a hiker past to the city and dinner at a Mexican restaurant there. PDF and String joined us there, they had obtained their own walks. We share the hotel rooms and the dream came quickly after a record of records.

I inhaled this burrito. It was good.

Path Statistics:

Cathols: 20

It stops to filter water: 78

Results: 11

Hitches: 14

Ceros: 12

Crys on the path: 9

Ampoules: 10

Gear repairs: 14

Miles jumped: 212.3

Significant water crosses: 11

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