High Sierra Trail - Day 5

Day 5 - Kern Hot Springs to Wright Creek

July 25, 2017

The journey from the hot springs (AKA glamping spot) had me anxious. Although not a lot of elevation gain, we knew we'd be crossing the three W's - Whitney creek, White creek, and Wallace creek. We had been warned by the ranger that these might require extensive off trail scouting if we were to cross at all. Making good time was critical to reach Whitney (creek) before noon.

Not five minutes on the trail and we were already crossing a creek (unnamed, most likely) with our shoes off. This one required a little scouting; we found a place where it split into three different creeks. The first two we did with shoes on and then we were forced to take them off on a little island of sorts. I was discouraged - if this was any indication how this day was going to go, I figured we would never get out of the Kern river valley.

Fortunately, we actually made decent time. Some of the trail was washed out in certain areas, and creeks were abundant. We didn't see any more snakes, but M hung behind just in case. She was also having her obligatory *tough* day. The Kern river valley is pretty spectacular, if you stop and look up. Which I only did when I stopped, as I was diligently searching for snakes. We now had a more detailed map (the Tom Harrison Mt Whitney Zone map), and we thought we knew exactly where we were and how close we were getting to Whitney Creek. We stopped to take a break from the pack weight; we just happened to stop by a geological marker. What a blessing! This gave us an exact point on the map and I felt encouraged.

Kern River - trail washed out

I love these...

We decided to eat lunch on the other side of the mighty Whitney creek. It was, as expected, pretty treacherous. Tom, from the UK, was on the other side of the creek, finishing his lunch. Seeing we had arrived, he immediately went back (pantless, I might add) in the creek and pointed with his trekking poles the path that we should take. I want to be sure it is understood how much this meant to us. First, we had no idea how deep or strong the water was, especially where it was white. We also had no knowledge if we could make it, but Tom apparently felt we could. He also went into that freezing, painful water to make sure we would be safe. I went first, then K, then M with my sandals. Tom waited for us on the other side. I thanked him profusely and balled my eyes out when M made it across. This was such a weight off my mind that I couldn't control the emotions that followed. Whitney creek, was in fact, the most difficult creek due to the current. It wasn't the widest or the deepest; it was the swiftest.

I'd like to describe these types of creek crossings. First, the prep work is a little annoying, and some people just trudge through with their pants and shoes on; they dry out later. I'm not that person because I wear waterproof Asolos with custom inserts that take three days to dry. Second, I usually convert my pants to shorts or at least roll them up. My camera then goes up in my pack and any snacks or stuff in my pockets must be put up high so they don't get wet. My boots are tied to my pack, throwing it a little off, and then the pack is unbuckled, should I succumb to the creek. This allows me to get the pack off and hopefully survive. Once the sandals are on, I extend my trekking poles and begin. The initial shock of snowmelt is painful. The first part of the creek crossing is usually not white water, and all I can think about is the pain in my feet and my legs from the cold water and rocky bottom. Then the white water comes; the pain disappears and the adrenaline kicks in. Each step is felt out after I have secured both trekking poles to either side. In the heavier currents, just getting the trekking poles in the right spot is a challenge. Then, I take a step, and the process is repeated. I do not think about anything else but the next step. I do not see or hear anything other than the rushing water in front of me. The current pushes me down one way so I have to counterbalance - but not too much, or I'll topple over because I'm top heavy with the pack. My knuckles are white because I grip the trekking poles so hard. I have no idea if there's pain, just survival of the next step. I go slow because my life depends on my next step. When I finally get through the white water and current, the pain rushes back like before, and I start stepping fast to get out of the ice cold water. Finally, the warmth of the air reaches my legs and feet. I stop, put my pack down, and turn my attention to whoever is behind me. Once we are all safe, we work in reverse - drying feet, putting shoes, socks, pants, and backpacks back on. Trekking poles are returned to normal size. The numbness continues, which actually starts to feel good now since I cannot feel my blisters or other pain in my feet for a while.

We pressed on to cross Wallace Creek. Please understand that I hate crossing on logs; I'd rather take my chances in the freezing, rushing water. While K & M searched for a crossing upstream, I was to confirm the log I saw downstream was a no go. I climbed it and walked back and forth twice. The broken branches were like handles, which left only a four foot section without any "handles"; thankfully, the log had a significant diameter. K & M saw me waiving wildly and came down to cross it; it ended up being the easiest crossing we'd have.  We thanked Mother Nature for her tree sacrifice.

We then arrived at Junction Meadow where the "guys" were staying. We immediately began discussions of the creeks. While I relived the harrowing tale of Whitney creek, the guys were overwhelmed with the last creek (Wallace).  I felt a bit of pride that I had found that log and we had avoided that last one, and a huge amount of relief that we didn't have to cross it. We couldn't believe we had made it this far, this fast. Five creek crossings to get here, and it was still fairly early in the day. We decided to continue on. Tom was past us, but the couple from Delaware (later we learned, "Leaf & Taylor") were behind us.  We all moved at different speeds, but ended up at the same places at varying times. We were hoping to get to or close to the JMT, which was Wallace creek (again).

The terrain was rockier and brought us up out of the Kern river valley at a steady pace. The views of the valley were tremendous. With two W's down, and one to go, we felt pretty confident. We took one last break before heading east again.

Rock chairs and couches. It's a challenge to find a rock that doesn't hurt worse than standing up, or one that relieves your pack weight but doesn't make your back hurt worse. If such a rock chair or couch was found, it was your duty to offer it to the rest of the girls when you were finished. I mean, let's not be selfish people.  Here are some we found here:

M on a rock couch

K on a rock couch

Finally - Wright creek. It was worse than we thought. It looked worse than Whitney. M was tired, sunset threatened, and the creek appeared deep. The terrain, should we go scouting, was very steep. (We'd eventually see cairns marking the way, but not at this moment.) I think we were just standing there, contemplating if we should go forward or stay (and if we stayed, where the hell would we pitch a tent?) when Leaf & Taylor caught up. We exchanged ideas about the creek, and we shared our map briefly. We felt we were but only a mile or so from Wallace/PCT, and this seemed to strengthen their resolve to cross the creek. Leaf led the way, shoes, pants and all. He held Taylor's hand and used hand signals to help communicate. The water was near his butt, splashing up to his waist. If that were me, it would be waist deep. After they crossed, he pointed out a path for us, and they continued on full speed. By now I was getting cold from the mist from the falls/creek, so I can't even imagine how cold they must have been. Given the fatigue of the day, the depth of the creek, the onset of evening, and M's current state, we elected to not take a chance.

As the trip leader, I assured a park ranger at Sequoia National Park that we would camp in designated spaces. I also agreed to the usual rules such as staying 100 feet from water, along with restroom use, fire restrictions, and food storage.  Retreating to the last known flat area (see rock chairs/couches) was not an option. Wallace creek flowed below us, with Wright Creek in front, and a very steep slope above. I felt horrible as I succumbed to the notion we would have to pitch a tent on the trail. It was as if I was violating the wilderness, or pissing off Smokey the Bear, or Mother Nature herself.  It really was for safety reasons, and I hoped that anyone who might come along would understand. Well, we knew the boys were a couple miles back, and Leaf, Taylor, and Tom were ahead of us. It seemed safe to say we wouldn't be blocking the trail for anyone, and we tried to leave as little of an impact as possible. 

This was the coldest place by far, probably due to the surrounding water and altitude. The mosquitos were pretty bad, but if you stood close to Wright creek, they were tolerable. However, you'd be wet and chilled with mist. The tent barely fit on the trail; one entrance to the tent was a drop off while the other one was the side of a mountain. M ended up on a very large rock, but somehow slept the best she had the entire trip. K and I squished together to make more "flat" room for her. The creek was very loud, and I wondered if I would hear anything important with such background noise.

View from Wright

Wright Creek, looking up

Campsite in the trail. Do not do this!

Miles:  9.8

Elevation start: 6880

Elevation end: 9600
Elevation gain/loss: +2729/-negligable
Campsites: Umh, no
Water: Wright Creek, in your face
Toilet: N
Bear storage lockers: N
Privacy: N

Hashtags for the day:

#fiverivercrossings #whitneycreek #thankgodforTom #treesacrifices #wrightcreek #camponthetrail

High Sierra Trail - Day 4

Day 4 - Big Arroyo to Kern Hot Springs

July 24, 2017

The trail out of Big Arroyo, though an incline, was glorious compared to black rock pass. We passed a few backpackers; I never exactly knew why they were headed the opposite direction. From here until we collided with the JMT, we'd see the same people, exchanging help and advice regarding creek crossing, the hell we'd endure, critter encounters, and good camping spaces. After the incline, there was an amazing flattish few miles. Rain threatened, reminding M & I of a hike in Yellowstone in which we gave each other "Nemo" names. Remember "Sharkbait oo ah ah"? I was "Bear Cloud", M was "Sunshine Moose" and we named K, "Wolf Lily".  Mosquitos were very little. I enjoyed this part of the hike.

Crossing creeks (with shoes)

\

Oo ah ah

Nearly missed the trail

Enter "log vahalla".  This is apparently where logs go to die, and there was no way around it - trust me - we looked. A graveyard of fallen logs lay before us. As a vertically challenged person, these presented quite a difficult task with a top heavy pack on. That group of bathing folk passed us here, playing "Love Shack" and some Donna Summers on their phones. {Tall people, pffft.} Some of the logs were burnt, leaving our butts blackened, adding to the sap already splattered on our behinds. (At one point, M pulled a chunk of pineneedles stuck to my butt because it was "driving her crazy looking at it.") Log vahalla behind us, we came upon a meadow. I was hellbent on making up lost time this day, so as lead hiker I missed the trail junction. I noticed our "Love Shack" fellows on the other side of the meadow and stopped. We backtracked, thankfully only a short ways, to the trail split.


We finally came upon the Kern river valley - a poster child of a U-shaped valley, and began our descent to the Kern river. The trail dabbles in the Funston Creek, eventually causing us to cross it, twice. (dammit, more creek crossings). Finally the skies began to weep. I knew if I put my rain gear on, it would stop. Had I not, it would pour incessantly for hours. Sure enough, it stopped, and we spent some valuable time covering packs and swapping out waterproofs. Still thankful it was downhill, we reached the Kern River  and the gate to the wilderness. No, really, it was a gate to the wilderness. The sign said "Close this gate to protect wilderness", and it was latched. Any critter could have gone under or around it - there was no fence attached to this gate. We laughed hysterically at this, but diligently closed the gate the wilderness, just in case...

The gate to the wilderness (photo courtesy of M)

Enter rattlesnake territory and "trail under water". Remember I stated that sharing sandals would not prove to be a very good idea? Well when you have to trek through 1/4 of a mile of water, sharing sandals is not an option. M took one for the team and hiked through barefoot while K took point. M was petrified of snakes, one of which we encountered immediately upon entering the Kern river valley. The trail meandered in water then on the west side of the valley, up and down steadily, with only one more snake encounter. This was a juvenile rattlesnake. K tried to get it to move off the trail more; eventually we had to run by it like our lives depended on it, which they literally did. A bridge to cross the Kern came into view. At least someone, somewhere, had the good sense not to allow hikers to traverse the Kern river, should there be more drownings and deaths attributed to the backcountry and lack of hiker sense.

Rattlers still a threat, but the Kern now to the left of us, we weren't out of the woods yet, literally and metaphorically speaking. Another creek crossing and a final one (possibly Rock Creek?). I had thought this would be the easier part of the day's hike. Instead, this part would take the longest with all the obstacles.

Hot springs privacy; Kern to the right

Glamping. Kern Hot Springs was, by comparison, glamping. Pit toilet. Flat campsites. Multiple bear storage lockers. Mosquitos, oddly, not an issue. A fire pit, which we utilized to dry M's shoes out. A HOT SPRING. A glorious, 150 degree, spring. Oh we were on it - we pitched tent and divvied up the campsite tasks in record time, and worked out a 2 girls at a time rotation at the hot spring. The hot springs were supposed to operate in a fill up/drain sort of way, but the plumbing and plugs were a little worse for wear. We made due; that bucket for cold water was rusted and super leaky. I didn't care - 150 degrees was tolerable and I got in, all the way. I cannot express the feeling of a four days of layers of sweat, deet, dirt, and sunscreen on the body, despite sponge baths, and the euphoria of hot water on said layers of nastiness, followed by a warm fire and dinner. This was truly a special place - the halfway mark a day late (but not a dollar short).

Useless bucket

View from the hot spring bath

This was a peaceful evening. I had a dream, though, one that would seem so real, I questioned reality the next morning. I dreamt of the next morning. We clearly had three days to exit the wilderness, either way, so not moving forward was not an option. In the dream, I had lost touch with reality. While we were still in the Kern River valley, I believed myself to be at home. K & M would ask me where I was, and I'd say I was in the bedroom, or in the living room. They kept saying they didn't know what to do. They kept telling me I was in the Kern river valley, on the High Sierra Trail, and I kept arguing that all I could see was the house. They'd point to a rock; I'd say it was the couch. They tried to shake my psuedo-reality, but it would not work.

When I woke, I was clearly in the Kern River Valley, with some major creek crossings on the radar for the day.


Miles:  12.5
Elevation start: 9520

Elevation end: 6880
Elevation gain/loss: +1030/-3670
Campsites: LOVELY
Water: Creek very near by
Toilet: Y
Bear storage lockers: Y
Privacy: Definitely

Hashtags for the day:

#sunshinemoose
#bearcloud
#wolflily
#logvahalla
#sappants
#pineneedleass
#straddletheblacklog
#loveshackbaby
#closethisgatetoprotectwilderness
#rattlesnakeswamp
#machetetrail
#perfectcampsite
#kernglamping
#hotspringbath

High Sierra Trail - Day 3

Day 3 - Pinto Lake to Big Arroyo

July 23, 2017

No more late mornings for us; from here on out we set alarms for 5 am to make sure we were making good progress on the trail before nightfall. We knew this to be especially important if we were going to make up for a lost day. This would be my bad day. I was feeling discouraged that we had not made it further than Pinto Lake, and that we had this enormous climb (3200 feet in 2.6 miles). The packs were not very much lighter, and we knew we had to have a full three liters of water for black rock pass.

Leopard Lily

K on the switchbacks in flowers

The trail immediately began with a meadow; we thought maybe this was Pinto Lake dried up? We finally saw the lake, which looked like a little pinto bean,  to the north, away from the campsites and the meadow. As we ascended, we struggled to discern exactly where we would "pass" through. There was very little shade, but a multitude of flora. Identifying the corn lilies, the paintbrush, shooting stars, leopard lilies, and other delicate flowers, helped us pass the time on the lower switchbacks. I was very sick to my stomach, struggling to eat small bits of Clif bars without vomiting, and definitely overheated. I cursed myself for not losing weight before the trip. The two lakes opposite us, Spring Lake and Cyclamen Lake, were mostly ice covered, and the views were amazing, had I cared to look. I dubbed any tree that provided cool wind and shade a "Jesus tree", as only God could have provided these on this awful mountain. It became clear which direction we were headed, and I would have never pegged it as a "pass". We joked that if Cajon Pass were like this, people would drive above Wrightwood and Big Bear. The snowfields on this southwest side of the pass were mostly melted away, which was a blessing given how steep the switchbacks had become. M & I were betting on number of switchbacks to a particular rock; she couldn't fathom that we'd reach it in 3 so she bet 5. It was three. Soooo steep!

Spring  and Cyclamen Lakes

M on the switchbacks

I pushed myself and began taking one breath (in and out) with one step. I was slow, but steady. I knew my body needed fuel, but I struggled to keep even small bites of food down. Finally, after I think 5 hours, we made it. M was first, I was second, with K right behind. The views were spectacular and we took in some lunch (which I again struggled to keep down the rest of the afternoon). Lunch consisted of tuna in sunflower oil, mayo, and left over cheese in a spinach wrap. Let me pause for a moment here and say, I will never eat Clif bars OR spinach tortilla wraps again. M also struggled with acid reflex on the way down, a difficulty we'd share for the remainder of the trip.

M & I on top of Black Rock "pass"

Moving on, we flipped off the southwest side of the pass and looked towards the snowfields on the northeast side. The first one was easy to get around, but the rest would involve a lot of trail spotting. We never needed the microspikes but a detailed map would have been oh so useful. (I purchased a 7.5 minute map for Kaweah Gap... not really helpful for our detour. Should I burn this map? Maybe not, since I share a deep, passionate love for maps.)
K took the lead here, and I staggered behind just wanting the day to be over. M & K diligently trail spotted; sometimes I would just wait until they found it before I made an effort. Like I said, this was not my day. Thank God K was on point and we found the trail after some time and made it into Little Five Lakes. Here we met some guys that wanted to head up black rock pass; after our conversation, they elected to stay the night and tackle it first thing in the morning.

Little Five Lakes

Enter mosquitos (emphasis on the first O, courtesy of Tom from the UK). M wears contacts and as we covered ourselves in Deet, she accidentally sprayed it in her eyes. Stuff went flying and she cried as she threw her contacts on the ground and begged for reprieve. K moved out of the mosquito area and I tried to help M (Did you try water to flush them out?) Eventually we moved out of Little Five Lakes and towards Big Arroyo. I knew we hadn't made up any time, but I didn't want to press on beyond Big Arroyo (this was the only time I'd concede to a shorter trip). The trip to Big Arroyo was mosquito ridden and fairly uneventful, except several creek crossings that required boots off. Actually, entering Big Arroyo required us to cross one last creek (One more? WHY???). Several women were bathing on the other side of the bank, and I could not fathom how they did it without being eaten alive. It was here, in Mosquitogeddan, that we all were chewed up. We surmised we would have been better to cover ourselves in mosquito blood, like the Walking Dead. Should we farm mosquitos and sell their guts to backpackers? K & I were covered in bites while M wore a Gore-tex to fend them off. Her butt, however, did not fair so well (see #lumpybutt).

While at Big Arroyo, we met the groups of people we'd see to the end of the HST, including the bathing woman. They had all managed to get through the #icetunnel, a day later than we would have encountered it. They all agreed it was scary and crazy and I knew my husband would be proud that I had not tried it. My adventurous spirit can sometimes overwhelm the sensible side of me. I can't remember dinner, but it was probably beef stroganoff and corn that I had difficulty eating. We made it to bed by dark and set our alarms for 5 am.

Overall
Miles:  6.9

Elevation start: 8400

Elevation end: 9520
Elevation gain/loss: +3200/-2080
Campsites: many, dirt/rock, fairly level
Water: Creek very near by
Toilet: N
Bear storage lockers: Y
Privacy: Some

Hashtags for the day:

#blackrockpeak #jesustree #inhumanepass #inadvertantwhitneytraining #wrongturnatAlbuquerque #snowfields #trailspotting #mosquitogeddon #pmsd #katiesgotthepox #lumpybutt #highsierrasexy #mosquitozombieblood #mosquitowarpaint

High Sierra Trail - Day 2

Day 2 - Bearpaw to Pinto Lake

July 22, 2017

We woke up slowly, giving a us a late start. We ate the heaviest of the breakfasts (granola + bananas) and had some Starbucks vias for coffee. The first day takes a while to load the packs, and mine was probably slowest because I carried the tent and rain fly. I really couldn't even start packing until both tent pieces were ready. K had the issue of the tent poles causing things to be off center, and M had mostly things that would not decrease at all in weight as we went on.

Hiking through Redwood Meadow

This was the first day of the southern detour, so technically not one iota of this trail is part of the high sierra trail. We descended (mostly) toward Redwood Meadow, a misnomer since it is a grove of giant sequoias. I had hiked to Redwood Meadow before via the Middle Fork trail; however, it was in the Spring and by a  slightly different route. The Middle Fork is a hot trail, which makes it ideal for Spring use, but terrible for summer. We met a few guys coming into Bearpaw who took the Middle Fork trail (and complained of the intense heat) but were able to give us a little information on trail conditions and such. Down we went, with some ups along the way. I was always thinking of how I did not want to descend anymore - the heat was getting to me, and the thought of going back up (in said heat) was disheartening. Still, we pressed on until we came to a rather large creek.

Cliff Creek feeder

This was probably the only creek we would cross that would require a significant amount of scouting to find a way across. There were no rock cairns to be found, but we did find evidence of previous crossings once we made it to the other side. Finally, K (my BFF) and I found a way, and  proceeded to mark our "trail" with sticks. As if something from the movie Elf, it went something like this: "Through the asparagus forest, past the lichen stick, over the fallen logs, past the water boulders..." We hiked as far as we could through pretty dense brush before putting on sandals. M(my daughter) & I were to share a pair of Keens - something that turned out not to be as easy at we had thought. I crossed first. While taking them off on a rather steep bank and finding a place to drop the pack, K would go to the "island" in the creek and wait for me to throw her the sandals. Then she'd toss them to M. The whole thing went well. The creek was wide and not terribly swift where we crossed. Once we all got our boots and packs on, we were then challenged to walk along a steep bank and head back to the trail. The brush was thick, the terrain rocky/slippery, and I managed to scrape and bruise my knee pretty good when a rock gave out.

switchbacks headed up to Pinto

We took inventory once we found the trail, noting the significant time we had lost trying to cross a creek that wasn't even on our radar. Coming into Redwood Meadow, we found the ranger station unoccupied, but had lunch near it in case he/she returned while we were there. We were looking for (but would never find) any intel on black rock pass. We ate the same thing for lunch (wheat things, summer sausage, cheese), but it was harder to eat this day due to the heat. Much of our trail was now uphill. We were counting "creek" crossings, but never quite sure if they were marked or not marked on the map with the record-setting snow season. We met a solo hiker who came out of Mineral King and was originally bound for Black Rock pass. The rangers had advised him it was better than Kaweah Gap due to the ice collapse and the 2.5 mile snowfield. He had injured himself crossing the creek, so he was on the way we had just come from in order to exit. He also indicated the junction was "just around the corner"; this was a milestone we would rest at and decide how much further to press on.

It was NOT just around the corner; in fact, it was probably 1.5 miles before we'd hit that junction. There we met another group of hikers who were familiar with the area. They said we'd be able to make Pinto Lake, but it was gruelling uphill.

Headed up to Pinto Lake (looking back) - sunset looming

Now, for some really dumb reason, we decided NOT to pump water at this junction. We decided we could do the next few miles without water, and resupply at Pinto. We'd already had 4-5 liters each; this seems like more than enough to sustain for the day. The uphill switchbacks to Pinto were intense, but M seemed pretty good and I felt okay. I snacked on almonds; in my mind they have a high water content (for a nut) and I had hoped it would help with the thirst. It did. This would be K's bad day. Trust me, each of us would have one of those days. K struggled up the switchbacks. She was pale, needing water and food. She scoffed at my suggestion of almonds. Darkness threatened us, and eventually overtook us before we made it up. M kept scouting ahead, hoping to find an end to the switchbacks or a water source. M eventually found a small stream and pumped some water for all of us. It was decided we'd leave K's pack and M & I would come back for it if she was unable to make it. She pushed on, and we made it into camp after 9 pm, all packs included.

I apologize now for pitching a tent so close to another set of hikers. I needed K to rest and get food/water ASAP. We pitched camp, pumped water, and ate dinner in the dark. None of us wanted that damned dinner; exhaustion breeds a distaste for food, despite the body needing the calories.
By the way, we never did see Pinto Lake itself until we ascended the next day.

Overall
Miles: 10.1

Elevation start: 7680

Elevation end: 8400
Elevation gain/loss: +2580/-1860
Campsites: many, dirt/rock, fairly level
Water: Cliff (?) Creek very near by
Toilet: N
Bear storage lockers: Y
Privacy: Some

Hashtags for the day:

#asparagusforest

#lichenstick

#nonameriver

#justaroundthecorner

#fuckpintolake

High Sierra Trail Day 1

Day One- Trailhead Crescent Meadow to Bearpaw Meadow:

July 21, 2017

My parents took us to the trailhead 7:15, through the familiar General's Highway and tiny road that leads to Crescent Meadow and Moro Rock. As we made final preparations, like pit toilet stops, sunscreen, & deet, my father handed us the "rope". For some reason, family and friends felt we needed a rope. Their explanations were not fact or experienced based, so we had declined multiple times. However, as we began putting our packs on, my father insisted we take the rope he bought for us - there was no denying it.

We knew this part to some degree; although, the year we hiked it was 2011 and our entry date was late June. This meant our previous experience had been with very high water and snowfields near Bearpaw meadow. Still, we knew the terrain and the elevation losses and gains, along with familiarity with the campground logistics.

Merhten Creek

The fire from Mariposa County, presumably, inhibited many of the great views experienced on this

Smoke towards the valley/Moro Rock

part of the hike. Once we were at Mehrten, things began to improve. While Mehrten was a questionable crossing with a pack last trip, it was quite an easy creek to cross this time around. We lunched on the other side and soaked our hot, swollen feet in the cold snowmelt. One guy was hiking barefoot in the water and nearly slipped to his death as he hit slick rock and slid about 10 feet. Fortunately, we'd not see this guy and his friends again after Bearpaw. Our lunch of Wheat Thins, summer sausage, and cheese was easily eaten, as our bodies were not really challenged other than the 40+ pounds. I remembered a lot of ascent and descent, and that we would descend considerably into the Buck creek/canyon crossing (a very welcome bridge, BTW), and that the roughest section would be the climb to Bearpaw. All in all, this would be an easy 10+ miles to transition our bodies to more difficulties that might lie ahead. One lady warned us (albeit unnecessarily) that it would be longer than expected to climb to Bearpaw once leaving Buck. I appreciated the honesty which helped us mentally prepare for a longer hike rather than a shorter one. We arrived fairly early, making the evening relaxing and simple. Dinner was the "thanksgiving meal" along with apple crisp for dessert.

Daughter and I with Great Western Divide in background

Buck Creek/Canyon

Bearpaw is a common destination, which makes it a
highly used and honestly, undesirable campground. There are two outhouses, not exactly preferable to a make-shift woods toilet, but very necessary for the amount of visitors that frequent the area. (They are nothing like the ones in Little Yosemite Valley, which seem more luxurious than any other in the backcountry I have experienced.)  Water is available from a faucet, but must still be treated. The high sierra camp lay on the other side of the "meadow", and I surmised we might have bear visitors in the night. With so many people, and multiple bear storage lockers, and a neighboring meadow, it seemed ripe for bear visititation.  We noticed deer in the evening, and even in the middle of the night during a trip to the outhouse. Sure enough, the next morning, there was a bear that walked by our tent (no rainfly due to the warmth of the evening) and huffed loudly as he sniffed the bear locker, as if to inform us of his disgust that we had prevented him an easy meal. He made his way to the meadow, and began eating "good" bear food; I was thankful that the other members of campground were also diligent about their food storage.

I digress now, to a moment on the trail, just before Mehrten creek, where we encountered a couple. The father carried a baby in front and a large pack in back, along with an umbrella to shade the youngster. The mother carried a considerable pack as well; they looked to be in shape and experienced. He asked our destination, and stated he had just come from Hamilton Lakes (which we would pass through our second day). He informed us of an ice "river" that was, in his opinion, impassable without significant experience with crampons and an ice axe. While I have had one mountaineering class that included crampons and self arrest techniques, I am by no means proficient at it nor was my BF and my daughter. In fact, we decided not to carry these tools as we felt something this technical was probably not something we should attempt. Apparently, there *was* an ice tunnel, but it had partially collapsed; meaning, one would have to go over the ice river/field/flow, which lay at a 45 degree angle. He noted a southern route that would bypass the ice, but that there would most likely still be snow fields (we're okay with that), and the route would add 1/2 or more of a day to our trek. Also, it would be a significant difference in elevation drop/gain. We decided to check with the ranger at Bearpaw and gather information from other hikers along the route.

Post creek crossing (Nine Mile Creek)

The problem with seeking advice  from the many hikers at Bearpaw is that their destination is the High Sierra Camp. This means they are most likely staying locally with shelter and food provided, and are not through hikers. We spoke to the park aide, who also spoke to the ranger, and we were advised that most people were unable to get through Kaweah Gap due to the ice collapse. They suggested we go to Hamilton and see for ourselves, and then if it were impassible, to just hike locally and stay on the western side. No one had gone the Southern route, and we also met a few hikers who had turned away from the "mini glacier" because they felt it was impassible. We made the decision, then, to take the southern detour, through Redwood Meadow, Pinto Lake, over Black Rock Pass, and eventually end up at Big Arroyo. If we chanced going to Hamilton, we may end back up at Bearpaw anyway, and we would have lost a day for nothing, making the entire HST impossible to complete on time.

Overall
Miles: 10.1

Elevation start: 6680

Elevation end: 7680
Elevation gain/loss: +1680/-680
Campsites: many, all dirt, fairly level
Water: faucet - must be treated
Toilet: 2 outhouses (no TP)
Bear storage lockers: Y
Privacy: N

Day One Hashtags:

#stupidfuckinrope

#nodenyingtherope

#cougardeer

#bearhuff

#outhousedooropen

#iceflow

#iceriver

#icewall

#icefield

#microglacier

#miniglacier

#nanoglacier

#icetunnelcollapse

Devil's Chair - Winter Version

A friend of mine said he missed my blogs, (huge ego boost), so I am making an effort to blog again about my adventures.

I ventured out to Devil’s Punchbowl for a hike to Devil’s Chair. I’ve done this one before, but in late Spring. Once again, I find the seasons subtly alter the beauty of my surroundings. The manzanita is one of my favorite winter flora; its deep claret bark, twisting and writhing with greying, aged wood, contrasts marvelously against its bright green leaves and the winter sky. Yet, in the summer months, I hardly take notice of this evergreen shrub.

The first mile of the Devil’s Chair hike is uphill via dirt road and is generally warm, with little shade and typical high desert vegetation. As the trail rounds to the north facing ridgeline, evergreens emerge. It had snowed three days prior to my arrival, and the subsequent days had been unseasonably warm, leaving trail conditions less than desirable, with slushy snow to icy mud to deep, slippery mud. If I had not had two dogs in tow, I would have definitely used trekking poles for stability.

I find sixty degrees to be rather warm, especially when hiking, so I was already rolling up my sleeves and hydrating frequently. The patchy snow-covered areas brought lower local temperatures, which both the dogs and I enjoyed. The trail continues up and down, only moderately, along the ridgeline for about two miles. Squirrels were busy taunting my dogs, but not much else in the way of fauna. (Note, I did see a deer on my drive up to the punchbowl, so I am sure they were around.) There are several opportunities to capture glorious views of the punchbowl, the desert beyond, and the snowcapped San Gabriel’s to the south.

Once the three mile marker is reached, the trail continues on a significant descent, which was difficult to manage in slick mud. Thankfully, my trusty companions know the command of “easy”, slowing to allow their owner to negotiate the slimy decline. At the 3.7 mile point, there is a resting log, a magnificent view, and a split in the trail. From here it is about .3 miles to the actual “Devil’s Chair” – back along the ridgeline and across the rock, complete with stairs and railings. Once I returned to the resting point, the dogs and I had our snacks and water.

The trail ends up being *about eight miles round trip, if one decides to trek out to the chair. The first and last miles are moderately difficult, with the center 2 miles being fairly easy. In researching the trail, some described it as “treacherous”… And while there are thinner parts of the trail, with no railing, and potential for sliding due to mud and/or snow/ice, this trail is by no means “treacherous”. I’d describe it as “sketchy” at times, with trekking poles recommended if that type of thing worries you. Definitely bring lots of water (as always) and be prepared for the conditions that the season and weather dictate.

Manzanita Shrub

Penelope & Teyla on the Chair

View of the Devil's Chair

Muddy

Devil's Postpile/Rainbow Falls

Second day in Mammoth Lakes: Time to head to Devil's Postpile and Red's Meadow.

I caught the mandatory shuttle bus down to Devil's Postpile (Stop 6, I believe) from Mammoth Mountain. I headed out to Minaret Falls via the PCT/JMT, just a short hike from the postpile. The trail was moderate with numerous down trees. They were all cut from the trail, which was great, but at one point I think there were 8 different trees that I passed through. I ran into a local hiker who explained to me that the trees were downed due to a massive wind storm in January. I never found a moment to confirm that, but clearly the number of downed trees (roots and all) was amazing.

Minaret Falls is a cascading waterfall, divided in three separate falls. From the PCT, the views are not spectacular but decent for the middle section. They seem as if they'd be amazing in the Spring time, and I secretly hoped to return after a "good" year of snow or earlier in the season.

I turned around and continued on the JMT until I reached the trail to Rainbow falls. The downside to this decision is that I would not pass directly by the postpile. The upside is that I'd be on a new trail (for me) and see the postpile from an explorer's perspective. Muir's musings floated through my wandering mind as I followed his footsteps, viewing the postpile from across the meadow. The trail was very pleasant until I reached the Rainbow falls, where trees are scarce and the trail is hot and sandy.

Rainbow Falls came quickly (despite the heat), but it lacked the usual rainbow. I do not know if the time of day made a difference, but certainly the water levels had a great impact on the ferociousness (or lack of) of the great waterfall. Still, I opted to hike down the "stairs", where I witnessed an entire track team frolicking in the pool at the base of the falls. Just one year ago, not a single soul would have approached the fierceness of the thundering falls, and the mist could be felt at the base of the steps. Disappointed, I hurried back up to a lookout point to enjoy lunch, slightly envious of those who had the foresight to bring bathing wear.

There are several trails options back to a number of shuttle stops. Having not seen Red's Meadow, I chose that trail option. I passed a family of four, in which the mother was morbidly obese. While this trail is relatively easy, the heat is nothing to scoff at, and I was once again amazed at the human spirit. Oh how nature beckons the soul and motivates the body beyond our perceived limits.

Red's Meadow was once described to me as a typical Gold Rush era entrepreneurship... still in operation. I'd totally agree. There was a restaurant, a small general store, and modest accommodations, all of which were grossly overpriced. I decided against the mentally-noted-reward I had promised myself (a Coca Cola) and caught the first shuttle bus I could back to Mammoth Mountain.

I can't wait to explore these trails again, hopefully in early June, when perhaps snow will dot the trails in shady areas and the Minaret falls will show their grandeur.

Note: I revisited this area the following with my daughter, in which we took the standard Rainbow Falls trail from the Devil's Postpile. I have included some of those pictures for reference.

View of the meadow from the JMT


Devil's Postpile from the JMT


View of the Rainbow fire area, from the JMT


Downed trees along the JMT


Rainbow fire area, Ansel Adams forest, as taken from the standard Rainbow Falls trail


Rainbow falls, dotted with visitors


Devil's Postpile, up close and personal


Me at the base of Rainbow Falls, the following week