Day 50: 720-737
Two other hikers and I left at 7am and had a series of multiple climbs. They were gradual, but the weight of the bear can and all the food slowed me down a lot. Each step became much more difficult, struggling to catch our breath as we reached 10k+ foot crests. During our lunch stop, the snow flurries began. We still had seven miles and more of climbing left to reach camp. As storm clouds blocked the sun, temperatures dropped below freezing and snow began to stick. It’s normal to walk through a snowstorm in late May and I felt prepared, but it was still cold. All day I regretted my planning and judgment in bringing a lot of extra food. Potentially adding unnecessary weight and challenge to the climbs. I was also struggling with back pain because I didn’t have a sternum strap, so my shoulders were bearing the weight. It was a challenging start in the Sierra, with many factors already testing resilience. Another night sleeping with my water filter to keep it from freezing.
Day 51: 737-752
The day started out clear and cold with about 1 to 2 inches of fresh snow. It melted pretty quickly but around 11am it started snowing again. Today there was a strong storm with wind and snow falling rapidly. I ended up walking until about 3:30 pm until we reached Chicken Spring Lake. It had already snowed at least 2 or 3 inches and this made it difficult to find a place to camp. Just when I thought I had a decent spot I found large rocks buried in the ground. I was exhausted because we didn’t have time to eat lunch because of the snow. In the end, I chose a spot by the lake, set up my tent, and prepared a meal for the night. Today didn’t feel fun, it felt more like being on the edge of survival. Maybe that’s fun for some people, some might say type 2 fun. But it wasn’t a good day on the road for me; I had to ask myself what I think I’m doing here. Something I still don’t know if I have the answer to. But I will definitely get the full Sierra PCT experience.
Chicken Spring Lake
Day 52: 752-767
It was a very cold night at ten degrees. I woke up to about 4 to 5 inches of fresh snow. I slept terribly, cold and knew I needed to get up and move. Packing became difficult with hands and fingers freezing instantly. I finally gave in and used one of my two pairs of hand warmers. The snow was difficult to walk in, but also beautiful. The way the morning sun hit the snow made it look like a field of diamonds. As I descended about 1500 feet, the fresh snow appeared to be only about 2 inches and was melting rapidly. I walked until about 11am and stopped to dry my tent and quilt on a nice big dry rock while I ate lunch. Continue another 8 miles to the Crabtree Ranger Station, the western base of the Mount Whitney climb. It is difficult to describe this area. The surrounding peaks are covered in snow, redwood trees, green grassy meadows, and beautiful, clear-flowing rivers. This place looks like something out of a fairy tale. And in the distance I can see a peak that I have dreamed of climbing for many years. Something I put on my bucket list. Mt. Whitney
Day 53: 767-772 + summit of Mount Whitney
We started hiking at 230am, we chose this in the hope that other hikers would start before us to reach the summit at sunrise and help us clear paths to climb the mountain. There were three brave souls who preceded us and who made the first tracks after the recent storm 24 hours earlier. There was a lot of layer management from the start and as we started to reach some completely snow covered sections we turned on our microspikes and ice axes. I was nervous, I had some training with an ice ax, but this was the real problem and the real danger. As we walked through the snow, we could see the first signs of dawn beginning to illuminate the pinnacles. The entire climb past 12k feet was snow covered with at least a foot of snow. As we climbed, the snow became deeper and more difficult to traverse. Some traverses were over 150 feet, all the way to the other side, where the exposed rock makes you feel like you can rest on flat ground. I was terrified inside, but somehow there was confidence, a belief that I could do this. There were other people doing it and I could watch and follow their example. When we reached 13,000 feet, my hands started to feel very cold. Holding an ice ax in one hand and a hiking pole in the other. The ambient temperature was just below 20 degrees Fahrenheit, but the wind made it seem much colder. I could add layers like my puffer jacket and raincoat, but my hands would never be able to stay warm even with wool liners and waterproof black diamond gloves. In retrospect, I should have used my second pair of hand warmers, but I felt too cold to even try to open the package. I was also moving slower than the group and felt like I was holding them back. By the time I caught up to them and was able to catch my breath and take a drink of water, they were on the move again. And for good reason: to stay warm and get to the top as quickly as possible so we can return. I had to stop a couple of times to try to warm my hands and get a good grip on the ice axe. When we reached the final climb up the rocks, most of them were covered in at least 2 feet of snow. It was so deep that you could make a hole in the dust unless you were stepping on the exposed rocks, so we tried to jump to the top. It was so cold and windy (and I was so cold) that I could barely enjoy the view. I took some quick photos and it was important to get back down quickly before the snow below 13 thousand feet started to melt and become more slippery. After descending to 12k feet, I began to slow down and enjoy the scenery I had missed as we passed it in the early morning darkness. We stopped at base camp for a quick nap and a chance to lie flat. I just did 16 miles and over 4000 feet of climbing and descending on very little sleep and I was exhausted. However, if we were going to go over Forester Pass the next day, we would have to do it early, meaning we still had more hiking to do. We walked about five more miles until we passed Wright Creek. As we crossed the last stream before camp, I lost my balance on a loose log and one foot sank into the stream. So, with our right foot very wet, we camped just after the creek. Over 21 miles and 5k feet on one of the most challenging but also rewarding days of my life.
Going down Mount Whitney in the morning
Day 54: 772-788
I woke up and my tent was covered in frost inside and out. I also had my right shoe completely frozen and it was extremely difficult to put on because it had no flexion. I was glad I had pre-dug the catheter hole the night before to keep some warmth in my hands. It’s hard to describe the bone-chilling cold your hands and fingers experience as you try to brush off as much frost as possible on a cold morning. I had to stop several times to blow on my hands and try to restore the sensation. At the same time, it is surprising that our body can experience and feed back this cold. After you start walking and climbing to reach the sun, that feeling goes away and you return to a comfortable temperature. And just a few hours later it was so hot that I was back in my base layers. This hike has taught me that our bodies can handle a lot more discomfort than we think. Discomfort is just a sign, a warning sign, and eventually it passes. We had our first stream crossing at Tyndall Creek, where there were no logs or rocks to cross. So I took off my socks and shoes, put on sandals and walked through the cold with water only up to my shins. After a quick dry off, we moved on to Forester Pass. The meadows reminded me of a kind of swamp. The ground is soaked with small streams of melted snow everywhere. And marmots frolicking to eat grass when they are not in their homes under the rocks. After what we had experienced at Whitney the previous day, the ascent of the Forester was much easier as much of the turns were clear of snow. The most dangerous part was the slide at the top. Icy from days of thawing and refreezing, the traverse seemed only about 30 feet. I took it very carefully as my heart was pounding and adrenaline was probably pumping as I walked down a snow and ice covered slide at 13k feet. Success. And our reward was slipping down the back of the pass. Glissading is a great natural slide, but what wasn’t fun was having my water bottles and bear can fall out of my backpack halfway down and having to walk back up the hill to retrieve them. Going down the back seemed almost more complicated than the step. The snow was soft and melting rapidly as noon approached. We had a few more opportunities for some small slides that helped ease our route down. While walking down a section of partial snow, I ended up slipping, trying to catch myself with my hiking pole, which broke in half when I stuck it on a rock. This then caused me to fall onto another rock which I caught with my forearm. It hurt, it bled, it will hurt, but I’m fine. Fortunately, my hiking partner, who has a free-standing tent, offered me his hiking pole so I could pitch my tent at camp. The section from mile 783 to 788 is absolutely stunning. Huge mountain peaks, beautiful redwoods, countless mountain streams that feed Bubbs Creek which we hiked and also had to cross. Fortunately, there were logs on the other side of the stream to help us stay dry. Had lunch with an incredible view and then set up camp near the creek. Eventful and successful day. Tomorrow she will leave Kearsarge Pass and enter Bishop for resupply and zero.
Day 55: 788-789
A beautiful, slightly chilly morning along Bubbs Creek in Vindette Meadow. We had only 9 miles to get out of Kearsarge Pass, but also over 2,300 feet of climbing. I saw a beautiful deer effortlessly climbing the forested rocky slope in the morning. Even on a close day (less than 10 miles), this was particularly exhausting after the big days and little sleep we had been experiencing. I made it out and luckily met Keith, the trail angel who took us to Bishop. We stopped at Coppertop BBQ, highly recommended! I was able to pick up some used hiking poles at a consignment store, restock, and send home the remaining pieces of my poles and umbrella. I also bought my new Durston buckles to replace the broken strap. A burger and beer for dinner in town was the cherry on top of a proud achievement in completing Mt. Whitney and Forester, the highest point on the PCT.
Day 56: Bishop Zero
I like my zero days where I rest and plan the next leg. I caught up with the posts, with the people and did the laundry. Tomorrow we will return to Kearsarge Pass for the next section of the Sierra.
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