Day 76, Wed 6.16 Arrived at Walker Pass in the afternoon. Hitched into Inyokern, after meeting hiker Anne Karoly. Judged by her trail maps that the PCT segment to Kennedy Meadows might be feasible without an ice ax, therefore it is not necessary to exit the trail to walk up Owens Valley just yet. Therefore will hitch back to Walker Pass to continue hike after medical attention. Otherwise, I would have walked down to Inyokern to maintain trip continuity. Camped in desert near Inyokern Post Office. Gusty wind all night so strong that I had to collapse the flapping tent around me just to get some peace. With arch less than two feet above ground, it shed wind OK, except that space was too confined to zip sleeping bag and woke up in the morning in a sweat.
Day 77, Thu 6.17 Back on PCT just north of Walker Pass. Spent most of day hitching into Ridgecrest and back, trying unsuccessfully to get treatment for giardia. Mistakenly assumed post office would not be open until 9 am. Actually my package was there and the early post office worker would have given it to me at 6 am. So hitched a ride 9 miles to the larger city of Ridgecrest by waving two one-dollar bills. Got iodine tablets and Kelty frame stirrups at Todd's army surplus store, and had a shoemaker sew them onto the backpack harness($6). So after ten years finally fixed the twisting strap problem as per original Kelty design. At hospital was charged $76 for an exam by a female doctor who prescribed some expensive pills for the phlebitis ($48, Relafen for vascular occlusion). She would not prescribe Flagel for symptoms of giardia but rather demanded stool samples for positive visual identification. Since the cost would be another $110 and require three days layover, I got some plastic specimen vials to carry with me, a horribly bad idea. I should have just insisted on a metronidazole prescription for my $76 fee. Turns out the vials leaked fixative and would also have leaked specimens, since they were not designed for constant shaking at high desert temperatures.
When I finally got back to the Inyokern post office in the afternoon with medicine and food supplies, the worker informed me my package had been sent up to Kennedy Meadows that morning because "PCT" was on it. So I have to hike another fifty miles to chase my things. Thank goodness no more mail drops. I hate to depend on other people when things go wrong. From the Inyokern post office I mailed the first 1/3 section of the PCT guide to Julie. Now until I pick up the middle section in the mail drop forwarded to Kennedy Meadows, I have no maps of this area. It looks like hiking up the Inyo mountains on the east side of Owens Valley would be very dry in the rain shadow of the Sierras, so I will probably just walk up Owens Valley only after reaching Kennedy Meadows, and then rejoin the PCT at Echo Lake southwest of Lake Tahoe. Mailed MSR water filter to Andrew Hall, happy to reduce weight and hopeful he can use it. Sent two paperbacks (Crichton and Kawaguchi) to John and Pip with thanks for visit.
Blisters on both feet, a result of desert heat, require micitracin, band aids and moleskin. Loose stool tonight. The doctor said that treatment for giardia takes one month [actually it is 10 days], but even if true, so what? You only have to give up alcohol, no big deal. I should be more assertive. May not have enough food for next leg of trip -- no cheese, just crackers and nuts. Weight was 165 at hospital, could lose another 10 pounds to reach high school weight of 155, so a little hunger is OK. Maybe some fasting would starve the little parasites.
Day 78, Fri 6.18 noon: Regained PCT after going round wrong side of a mountain without map. The error began when I mistakenly believed I was on trail at Walker Pass. After one mile when false trail disappeared, I retraced my steps almost to Hwy 178, but did not go back quite far enough, so repeated error. Instead of backtracking again, I headed north hoping to intersect trail by scrambling up a loose scree ridge about a thousand feet (at least legs are working). Then spotted the trail scar cutting across the face of the next mountain. I had to cross some loose slopes to get to it. At one point I rested with my bare feet in the limbs of a young pine tree, confident that no other human being had ever been there. pm: Found water in late afternoon when 3 quarts nearly dry. Popped in three iodine tablets, 1-2-3 presto! no pumping required. Hi tech doesn't always mean more convenience. Stomach cramps and gurgles continue but no diarrhea due to minimal food. On my mind considerably today is that woman doctor and how our dialog should have gone. Have you ever seen wild people talking to themselves in the street? Well that was me on the trail today, taking both roles of the conversation. My plan now is: abort hike to Kennedy Meadows for lack of a map as well as worries about fording snow melt in the Kern River, and walk canyon road back to Hwy 395 (Owens Valley) tomorrow. Then continue north up to Lone Pine. Call the woman doctor and complain about the leaking vials and get a prescription over the phone.
Day 79, Sat 6.19, New Moon. Tried a short cut but, without map, ended up hiking twice as far. When the PCT trail started to climb to another high pass, I took a fire road down canyon where I hoped a road would swing around the mountain. Met a rancher who described his bout with giardia and treatment. Then came a long hot climb up a zig-zag road blasted out of a cliff. At one point I was resting in the shade of a bank, lying on my poncho at the side of the road, when a fire truck came by. The truck stopped and backed up beeping like a tractor in reverse gear to stop alongside my prone body. A fireman told me that Kennedy Meadows was not far, so I guess I'll go up there after all and get my mail, having come this far. My guts are bubbling like a fumarole. Discovered a blister on right heel so deep under thick callus that I had to slice dead skin for ten minutes with a straight edge razor to get down to the white tender pocket and lance it open. Liner plus woolen socks take too much room in tight boots so I plan to go back to using Ultimax one-layer socks, which worked well for me in the Sundowners. It is uncomfortable wearing wool anyway in this heat. Saw a roadrunner. Heard a hawk plummeting past like a rocket.
pm: Stealth camp on private property on forested slope near road. BM in late afternoon after finding stream of uranium-poisoned water which tasted just fine. Maybe I don't have giardia but cramps due to electrolyte depletion (forgot to bring salt). Will eat pretzels and salt crystals tonight. Sun is burning hot. Summer is here. About 22 miles from here to Kennedy Meadows according to a road sign. Prefer exploring with a map more than without a map. May stay on PCT beyond Kennedy Meadows if trail is free of snow.
Day 80, Sun 6.20 Kennedy Meadows. Hiked about 22 miles today and it is still one hour before sunset. The secret was to get going early at 5 am. Met a birdwatcher surveying bird populations with a microphone and playback recordings of male calls. She was interested in me and offered food and a ride. She was slightly nervous. She dropped her microphone, forgot to turn off the recorder and forgot a tape cassette on the hood of her car. She identified the song of a mountain chickadee for me which I had wondered about for some time. At the end of the day, some sixteen miles further up the road, her car passed me again and she stopped and wished me good luck. She said she saw me around the middle of the day lying in the shade near the road but did not want to disturb my rest. I made Kennedy Meadows general store thirty minutes before closing. Why was I not surprised that Janie forgot the Crystal Light? (please forgive the sarcasm, it is just a way of coping with disappointment). My dear sister procrastinated so long that she took the power bars to Dallas and had Jim send them from Texas by priority mail. Please no more mail drops! Both feet are bandaged now with moleskin and tape. Left leg about 95% recovered. Seems a waste to have spent $130 for a prescription for Relafen for vascular occlusion when aspirin worked well enough. Oh well, don't worry about money at a time like this. Just be glad there is enough left to allow some choices. Picked up a Forest Service map suggesting a possible exit down to Owens Valley from the Kern Plateau, three or four days to Lone Pine, at an altitude of about 10K (at 6K now), so will continue northward along trail since I have gotten this far.
Day 81, Mon 6.21, Summer Solstice. am: Breakfast at Kennedy Meadows at cafe, wrote some letters and poured salt into shirt pocket. Last few days have felt a desire to urinate even when bladder is empty. Believe it is due to irritation due to high concentration of urea due to dehydration. Drinking six quarts of water per day for 20+ miles may not be enough, evidenced by dark color of urine, even though not thirsty. Prescription: 2 aspirin and lots of water. Take more salt to increase thirst. Irritation should go away after urine clears up.
pm: South of Beck Meadows, 8040'. Slow uphill climb, solitary all day. Bad blisters on little toes of both feet, left one worse, may not be able to walk on it tomorrow. Water available. Salt dose for urethritis successful. Did not find Anne Karoly's name in trail log, so left message for her, just as I once enjoyed getting a message from Ad & Trudi. Bridge over Kern River was a welcome surprise. Ford would have been cold and wet, although not as dangerous as Whitewater River. At afternoon rest, unbundled sleeping bag and took a nap in hot sun, cool breeze. Felt sluggish on waking and hiked only one mile further over pass. I'm camped at a pleasant site on a knoll with open space all around, trees farther down the valley, not too confining, shaded for sleeping-in tomorrow until noon if I wish. Did not have any problem with blisters for two months, but then problems started as a result of friction wearing slippery liners in desert heat. No snow at 8K is good news indeed. Carrying OC spray in a handy pocket made out of a yellow bandanna now that I am in bear country. The can is a small canister of Pepper Plus, a 5% OC + Capsicum blend, illegal in California and probably not worth the trouble, but I do not have enough experience with bears to give it up yet. My Nike running shorts are perfect for back-packing because there is no waist string or belt lump under the pack harness. Came across a pair of white coolmax polyester briefs lying on the trail in the middle of nowhere, in perfect condition, probably dropped by some hiker careless of zippers on a new backpack, or maybe an old pack with broken zippers. Wearing dark polypro undershirt in fully closed mummy bag these cool nights at 8K feet. Left knee still hurts to sit cross legged. Something must have really torn to take this long to recover.
Day 82, Tue 6.22 am: Lots of short vivid dreams this morning, cold air, warm bag. Difficult to come fully awake until I focused on the pale bluish white sky overhead. Suppose that reality is what our minds are used to. We may ignore unfamiliar things not in our experience. For example, once I noticed porpoises swimming on their backs in the main tank of the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago. They would plunge down to the gray concrete bottom to gather speed for jumps out of the water but their eyes were looking up at the surface. I asked a trainer if they might not prefer a more natural, sandy bottom. He remarked that the bottom is not a part of their environment. On thinking this over, now I wonder what dimensions of my life may be ignored because of my not looking. A mate is one example. Just as I am on the threshold of high wilderness country now, I may be nearing previously ignored questions in my life. So I am cautious about resuming computer programming or other familiar old pastimes. The legend is that the Buddha himself did not obtain enlightenment until he had exhausted other methods such as yoga and fasting, until at last he stopped moving and resolved to sit under a tree for as long as it would take. Maybe there is a way of hiking without moving all the time [yes: the whoa way].
late morning: Resting on sandbar across new footbridge over the Kern River. A beautiful, spacious wide valley. Many small starlings flock under the bridge. At this season the Kern could be forded safely but the water of course is icy cold and clear. In the near distance a mountain peak has snow at about 9K feet. I wonder how far I could get up the John Muir trail without an ice ax. Have to resupply anyway at Lone Pine, so will exit down to the desert at Horseshoe Meadows. Did not cover little toes with thick moleskin, just a band aid, feels better. Washed socks in Kern River.
afternoon: At 10K feet on flat shelf SW slope of Mt.Olancha. Only a smattering of snow patches on south and west slopes, great news! Plan to skip worst of John Muir trail (Forester Pass 13K north of Mt.Whitney) by rejoining PCT at Independence - Onion Valley - Kearsarge Pass. May get to see Yosemite yet. Can mail order miscellaneous supplies from REI for delivery to Independence if not found in Lone Pine. Sunbathed nude for maximum vitamin D exposure in warm afternoon sun, mild temperatures, no one around for miles. Have felt hungry several times today. Maybe absence of hunger in first stages of trip was due to exhaustion. I have been eating more salt lately even though I still have some stomach fat and loose folds of skin. Electrolyte imbalance may have caused torn knee muscle at Sierra Leone. It was the end of a long, hot sweaty climb and I had not eaten a normal meal in ten days. The cell walls couldn't withstand the pressure in their weakened state so something gave.
Day 83, Wed 6.23 pm: Horseshoe Meadows. Uneventful day, about 18 miles. Last hot shower was two weeks ago, motel tomorrow! Trail swung up to crest overlooking Owens Valley far below. Its a long way down, thigh muscles will get a workout.
Day 84, Thu 6.24 am: Rare nightmares last night, awoke feeling angry and resentful regarding tombstone issue with parents and the name Jonathan engraved without middle name Willis. Usually I sleep fairly well, maybe it is the altitude.
midmorning: 2/3 way down mountain on a well constructed road. A couple of vans crept past decked with hang gliders -- what a glorious experience to soar off this mountain. Unfocused feelings of anger swirling inside. Have decided to stop using the diminutive Jonny. Most people outgrow childhood names in adolescence. For me it is at age 50. There was a period of eight years in Tucson when I went by "John" as an engineer, not my given name at all. There are too many things to do to bother Janie with a long list. I think it would be better to get on a bus at Lone Pine and go down to her house to deal with the loose ends myself: Apply for AT& T calling card, store gold bar and computer disks, backup disks at Cal Poly, get REI supplies at San Dimas, mail clothes and pile jacket to Julie, dispose last of unpalatable Uncle John inventory, send letter to parents about the tombstone or talk to them and get passport photos.
Day 85, Fri 6.25 Lone Pine, Daw Villa hotel, $25 for a room, with bathroom and shower down the hall. The movie Tremors starring Kevin Bacon was filmed here. The cast stayed in this old landmark.
Day 86, Sat 6.26 Afternoon bus to LA arrived at downtown LA bus terminal at 10 PM, too late to get a suburban bus to Diamond Bar. Joe refused to let Janie come pick me up at the bus station, so I took a taxi in the general direction of Pomona until the meter reached $20, then got out at a well-lit Ramada motel and waited for Janie's pickup in the guarded courtyard. I never felt concerned about personal safety in the wilderness.
Day 87, Sun 6.27 At Janie's house in Diamond Bar. Changed to Ultimax socks. Lanced deep blister on right heel. Submitted passport application at the Pomona post office. Saw Jurassic Park movie and also read the book. Crichton's main point (in the book) is chaos and the instability of complex systems. It is amazing how complex living organisms such as a human body with 100,000 genes [the final human genome count turned out much less, only about 20,000 genes] encoded by 3,000,000,000 DNA base pairs unfold to maturity and live long. My favorite computer game is TRACON air traffic controller. The probability of error increases with the number of planes. Although very experienced, I can't handle more than about 30 airplanes at a time, but our bodies handle thousands of processes at once and without conscious control. Just pause for a second and think about this. Just press the pause button -- Oh, you don't have one? Fortunately, most vital processes are not under conscious control. They are protected from tampering like hidden computer system files. We imagine we are in control but we are only along for the ride.
Day 88, Mon 6.28 Janie's house in Diamond Bar. Missed urban bus to LA. Read excerpts from PCT Guide by Ray Jardine. We agree on many points such as the importance of reducing pack weight and caution about fording streams.
Day 89, Tue 6.29 Since I missed the bus to LA yesterday, there was time to revisit REI in San Dimas, and on an impulse I bought an ice ax, to give myself the option of hiking in the high Sierras if the desert is too hot. This is a perfect example of chaos theory. If I had not missed the bus, I would not have gotten lost in the Sierras later [see below], because without an ice ax I would not have ventured there. Stomach problems continue -- there is definitely a bug, this is more than electrolyte depletion.
Day 90, Wed 6.30 pm: 4 miles west of Independence, off road up to Onion Valley to rejoin PCT beyond Kearsarge Pass. Bus from LA dropped me off in Lone Pine last night at 11 PM. Found a flat grassy spot two blocks away near a stream, first time camped without a tent. Sweet evening smells of sage and alfalfa. In early morning light a skunk came sniffing around, tail high above the grass. Began 14 mile walk to Independence along highway 395 before dawn. Narrow shoulders and heavy traffic bothersome. Thighs chafe in desert heat. New 70 cm, 24 oz ice ax rides well, fastened to back of pack by homemade yellow velcro strap sewn to leather patch. Loaded up additional food supplies at local market and rested in city park before heading west up a paved desert road. Pack is heavy. Next resupply stop should be Mammoth Lakes in about 7 to 10 days [never made Mammoth Lakes].
Day 91, Thu 7.1 am: Camped last night near a noisy stream to get late afternoon tree shade and a location hidden from view of the road, but did not sleep well on account of the water noise (can't hear bears coming). Had bread, cream cheese and fresh green onions for supper and breakfast. Body stiff, sluggish after layover at Janie's. It was so hot yesterday afternoon the Thermarest air mattress and nylon tent floor got soaked with perspiration, but the evening was pleasant once the sun dropped below the western mountains. Morning sun will be up soon -- got to get moving early.
pm: Reached Onion Valley (9200') around 2 pm, continued on up trail without rest past a couple of high lakes, camped early in rocky area with some trees and some patches of snow at 10K feet. Trailhead signs warn about bears. Prepared a stack of throwing rocks outside tent, flashlight, whistle and bear spray. Pack is inside tent where I can defend it. Ice ax is planted outside entrance. Stuffed empty cream cheese container into spare quart bottle in broken pieces to mask odor. Climbed about 6K feet today but legs and feet not complaining, left knee is 95% well but still twinges from lateral pressure when sitting cross legged. My imagination conjures dinosaurs from Jurassic Park prowling outside in bright moonlight.
Day 92, Fri 7.2 Near mouth of Rae Lake canyon. Crossed two (!) 12K passes today. Kearsarge, an east-west pass, was almost entirely snowfree. I met a hiker on the other side whose eyes were bloodshot and tearing because he did not use sunglasses going over 13K Forester Pass in 12' drifts of snow. The climb up to Glen Pass, a north-south pass, had a few snowy sections on the southern face which tested my new ice ax. When I reached the top of the pass I walked out onto a broad convex mantle of snow which dropped out of sight in the direction of a cliff. Far, far below could be seen Rae Lakes. I stood for awhile trying to remember the path I followed three years ago on my southbound hike from Donner Pass to Mt. Whitney in a dry August season. I could not see any trace of the long trail which the boy scout troupe climbed to meet me at the summit. I began to step down the thick snow which was soft in the afternoon sun. My legs were trembling slightly because of memories about the dangerous San Jacinto slopes. I used my new ice ax for balance when my feet would posthole to knee depth. Imperceptibly the slope steepened until I happened to look back and suddenly realized that I was getting into serious danger near the brink of a blind cornice. Trembling, I plunged the full length of my ice ax into the snow behind me. I turned around and looked back away from the supposed cliff edge below me and held on to the ax with both hands until my nerves steadied. Then I edged sideways across the face until I could see the slopes below. I was glad I brought an ice ax after all. My feet were soaking wet by the time I finally got down to Rae Lakes because of postholing the soft snow. Because of snowmelt the lake level was high and the trail connecting two peninsulas was flooded by a channel of icy clear water, but I was able to wade through the water while holding on to a fallen tree bridge -- it was safer than walking on top of the wet, slippery tree itself. Tonight I have camped down canyon below the lakes on some rocky shelves with patches of green sod near seeping springs, away from usual bear haunts, and with all my gear stowed inside the tent.
Day 93, Sat 7.3, Full Moon. Highest camp yet at 12K feet on rocky knoll south of Pinchot Pass. Not expecting all these mosquitoes, need to get some long pants. There is enough light to clear the pass but no margin for safety and feet are numb with cold. Postpone crest until tomorrow -- maybe someone will come along and we can do it together.
List of Physical Obstacles List of Mental Obstacles
1. Giardia 1. Loneliness
2. Fordable rivers 2. Food thoughts
3. Unfordable rivers 3. Sexual thoughts
4. Steep snow and snow cupcakes 4. Fears
5. Ice 5. Doubts
6. Ticks
7. Rattlesnakes 8. Bears 9. Mosquitos 10. Wasps 11. Shoelace eating rodents 12. Hunger 13. Thirst 14. Sunburn 15. Blisters 16. Fatigue 17. Torn muscles 18. Cold 19. Wind 20. Darkness 21. No companion 22. No maps 23. Stinging nettles 24. Poison oak 25. Forest fire 26. Rock slides 27. Cross-country underbrush and blow-downs 28. Mud 29. Smelly socks and clothes 30. Rain 31. Hail 32. Earthquake 33. LA downtown bus terminal at night
My body feels sore, back and legs, although covered only 10 miles today. Gouged a chunk of meat out of inner right thigh with pick of ice ax. Should have known better than to grasp it by the point, the fickle finger of fate as Jardine calls it. The cut is about 1 inch long, 1/4 inch; wide, 1/8 inch deep. Felt no pain, but that part of my leg is missing some nerve tissue as a result of compound femur fractures in a motorcycle accident at age 21. Mind is sluggish at this altitude. Takes a long time to decide whether to go on or to camp. Began to encounter snow fields at 10,500' on approach to Pinchot Pass. Progress was slow due to cupcakes 12-18" deep, unlike the north face of Glen Pass which had smooth snow. Here the melting snow looks like corrugated egg cartons on both flat and moderate inclines. Some of the cusp edges are wide enough to walk on but more often than not it is necessary to goosestep down into the cups. Met another boy scout troop climbing up to Rae Lakes. Hope they get over Glen Pass safely if that is their intent [It was, and later I heard they made it ok. The group was roped together between experienced mountain climbers]. One boy in passing looked at my "I climbed Mt. Whitney" tank top and said, "Me too", so these kids were not all novices, although some of them looked very young. When I am asked by other hikers where I am going, sometimes I may truthfully name only the next supply point if I want to avoid a long conversation, depending on my mood and how they look to me. However, if someone does show an interest in my long Mexico-to-Canada hike (supposing I decide to go on to Canada), I patiently answer all their questions. I'm not in any particular hurry although many power hikers often are. When I meet someone I look at their face to see what kind of mood they are in. Put the rain fly on tonight to block moonlight and warm up the tent. Estimating 10 more days to Mammoth Lakes, will probably run out of food before then.
Day 94, Sun 7.4 dawn: Camped last night at foot of Pinchot Pass, at about 11,500 feet. No wind, not even very cold, but a long sleepless night due to a train of sexual fantasies in this lonely landscape. In predawn light the summit seems less hostile than last night and I am glad to have physical challenges to occupy my mind.
8 am: Waiting in sleeping bag near top crest for ice to soften. A cozy bivouac, a vast circle of snow covered peaks in every direction. Distant roar of snowmelt river out of sight below. One small sparrow chirping. Renewed resolve to achieve high goals by perseverance and making every failure a stepping stone to success.
10 am: Beyond the pass. When the snow soften enough to kick steps, I was so impatient to get over the crest that I charged up without stopping for breath. There was a thick snow crust on the northern face but the descent to a frozen cirque was routine on moderate slopes.
pm: Deja Vu. Camped high just below Mather Pass in Upper Basin of North Fork Kings River. Forded at least 10 sock-soaking streams today, including a serious ford of North Fork in three parts. Made only 8 miles. Stomach cramps continue. Feel tired, maybe because I don't have much body fat left for extra energy. At one ford today I tried to walk across on a log, a bad idea. I slipped on the wet surface but fortunately landed on my stomach on the log, not in the icy stream. A better method would be to walk in the stream and hold on to the log, or if the log is smooth, scoot across. If a very long stick is available and the log bridge not slippery, it might be possible to step sideways while planting the stick firmly in the stream bed. This is a modification of the tripod method for fording creeks. I keep my socks on under my leather boots for these icy streams, to insulate feet from bitter cold. This requires me to stop and wring them out before putting them back on again, reserving the alternate dry pair for the next morning. However I mixed them up today and used both pairs of socks, so tomorrow I'll have to suffer cold wet socks in the early morning. Once I tried to dry wet socks overnight in my sleeping bag, warming them between my thighs, but after they had warmed up they stayed too damp for comfort, so I took them out and they were cold again by morning. One other fording method I may try someday is to keep boots dry by wearing only socks. Once boots get wet, socks get wet too.
Mather Pass has a steep wall of snow above me, but it is concave, not convex, so it doesn't worry me as much as the north slope of Glen Pass. Will have to wait for morning sun to soften the snow which has frozen now in afternoon shadow. Heard the sharp report of a rockfall last night, like gunfire. Saw two deer today and a brave, hungry marmot who almost swiped my gorp when I dozed off at lunch, hat covering my face. When I sat up he scurried away but not too far, so when I left, he got a bar. Saw no one else all day, as usual.
Day 95, Mon 7.5 dawn: Peaceful night, woke up only three or four times. Full setting moon hangs over western ridge even while morning sunlight brightens the snow. The air is snappy and clear. It feels like Christmas morning, and I'm about to go get my present under the Christmas ornament moon. My soft bowel movement was dark like chocolate pudding. Regret soiling this pristine landscape, so dug a deep hole with ice ax and burned paper as an incense offering to the deity of this mountain to let me pass over.
10 am: The deity did not accept my offering! It was the wrong pass! On toiling up to the crest I was dismayed to find a sheer cliff on the other side, a drop from 12,200' down to 11,400' (10 contour lines at 80' per contour on reinterpreted topo map). How could I have made such a mistake? The wrong pass is broad and prominent, and I knew that the trail approached Mather from the east, and the lake in the basin under the wrong pass looks like lake 11589 (but they all look the same, and there are dozens of lakes here), and I lost the trail long ago under fields of snow. It took a couple of hours to find a way back down, then head east to a position where I can now see a faint trail scar up the canyon wall leading to Mather, which is still hidden from view, but appears to have a dangerous cornice of snow. I hate snow. Remind me not to live in a snowy country. Have wrung out socks so many times I no longer bother to turn them inside out after peeling them off. I just wear them inside out on alternate peels. The snow is turning from crunchy to mushy and I can hear streams of water gurgling underneath. I avoid low channels where the danger of falling through is greater. There is pink algae in the cupcake pockets. There are so many varieties of corrugated surfaces that I believe it is true that the Eskimos have a dozen different names for snow.
noon: This is not my day. At the base of Mather pass, I cannot see a safe route to the crest. There is a concave snowfield which curves up to the crest, which might be possible to climb by careful, slow switchbacks. However, the final approach would have to cross over a long ledge above a vertical 300' rocky cliff. There would be no chance for self arrest if the soft snow gave way. A fall would be fatal. Too bad the pass I climbed, even higher than Mather, was a dead end. My new plan now is to follow the South Fork Kings River from its headwaters here in the Upper Basin down to Cedar Grove. There get treatment for giardia and a night's rest in a motel and some food. Then hike roads or trails north to rejoin the PCT south of Mammoth Lakes. It is too risky to cross Mather Pass, the Palisades switchbacks and Muir Pass this early in the season. If I had not missed the bus to Los Angeles and therefore not read Jardine's book about the High Sierra and therefore not bought an ice ax and therefore stuck to my original plan to hike up Owens Valley, I would have missed this interesting adventure. This is an example of the butterfly effect mentioned in chaos theory outlined in Jurassic Park.
pm: On a high ledge against a granite wall, overlooking now thundering, unfordable South Fork Kings River, about ten miles down canyon from headwaters, six miles south of the Rae Lakes trail [sic. Confusing trail to Pinchot Pass with Rae Lakes trail to Glen Pass. I was more lost than I realized]. The roar of the river is awesome even at this height. The trail must be on the other side [wrong -- there was no trail on either side]. I have been bushwhacking through virgin wilderness. The terrain has changed from slushy snow cupcakes, sandy mud, isolated stands of small pines, boulder fields, second-generation boulder fields with 5' tall bushes blocking passage and a swampy meadow. It was at the end of the meadow that I saw my first wild bear. This bear was black and big as a brahma bull. He was standing taller than me on four columns of legs, sniffing the air for my scent. I felt concerned but not too afraid, because I was standing with boots on and a large backpack and an ice ax in broad daylight. But it worried me to imagine a confrontation with him at night so I decided to walk a few more miles. When the bear detected my direction of travel he lumbered off the opposite way upstream. My camp spot was chosen to be far from bear food sources, rocky, far from water, clear of surrounding bushes. My pack is inside tent and all food bags are snugly sealed inside pack. Wet socks drying out on backpack rungs are covered with the nylon jacket to further mask food scents. I have a pile of stones by the tent door just in case the bear comes back. I will hear him coming if he does.
This has been an eventful day. I have heard that monasteries are supposed to be uneventful places, even boring, to remove external distractions, to allow the mind to calm down. Some monks observe a vow of silence to avoid forming personal attachments which cause emotional waves. I read somewhere that Americans who go to Japan to practice Zen in Japanese monasteries do not get sufficiently bored by the daily routine to make spiritual progress. The novel language and customs change their practice into a travel adventure. Those yogis who sit facing a wall or those Tibetan hermits who retire to a windowless cell for years, food and necessities supplied by an unseen hand, I wonder what they experience on their inner journey. Where to go when the body has nowhere to go? This seems a greater challenge to me than hiking a few thousand wilderness miles. This hike may be a warm up for a greater adventure ahead, but if I am thinking about the future, this means that I am not fully experiencing the present moment. The two main goals of my hike are to regain physical health and to decide what to do with the rest of my life. I've been so busy with the first goal that I haven't had time for the second. Walking along a broken trail takes concentration because every step is different, especially when you are in strong condition and moving fast. Kawaguchi describes how he was swept off his horse by a tree branch while daydreaming. So I may be going too fast. It might be good for me to have my forward progress blocked like this.
Solo Hike 93 page 3 of 7
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