Up at 6:30 and cleaned the burned batter off my pan from yesterday’s breakfast, then slowly got my things together, ate, drank more coffee, and finally rolled out of VVR at around 10.
I like that place. It’s too expensive, but there’s a nice atmosphere, and the employees seem less interested in taking all my money, despite the high prices. Also, we were able to play Scrabble all day and into the night on the restaurant’s patio. The waitress, Olive, hung out with us as we played, and we all joked around together.
Today, though. Right. Back up the road, back up the Bear Ridge Trail, back onto the PCT. Nothing too exciting, just ten miles or so amidst swarming mosquitoes. They’re getting more annoying as we lose elevation. I’ve been swatting at my arms all day. The only good thing about mosquitoes is how easy they are to kill, and today I massacred them. In the mosquito language, I am known simply as “The Black Doom,” and adults tell their larvae horrifying (but true) stories to keep them from acting up. Sometimes, I just knock mosquitoes out, and those rare survivors go back to their mosquito families and friends changed, haunted forever by visions of my terrifying giant hand wiping out all of the mosquitoes around them in one powerful sweep.
Anyway, we’re camped by a lake up in the mountains a couple miles short of Silver Pass. I am very cold. G’night.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Tuesday, June 23—Day 62
Took a zero at VVR today. We rediscovered bottomless coffee and Scrabble, both of which we enjoyed for hours. Between games, we walked two miles up the road to make calls on Tom’s phone at the only place he could get a strong signal.
We really did play Scrabble pretty much all day, and I don’t think I’ve enjoyed myself more in some time. This place is pretty expensive, but we’ve managed to keep the food bills low. For breakfast this morning, I bought a jug of shake-and-pour pancake batter mix for $2. I tried to make campfire pancakes, but ended up eating a lot of clumpy batter, which was still tasty and filling. You learn to not be picky out here.
We’re hiking out tomorrow. Not too early, I hope, because it’s late and all my stuff is spread out everywhere. Also, if we’re still here when the restaurant opens at 7, I can get more coffee. Something I’m becoming very fond of. ‘Night.
We really did play Scrabble pretty much all day, and I don’t think I’ve enjoyed myself more in some time. This place is pretty expensive, but we’ve managed to keep the food bills low. For breakfast this morning, I bought a jug of shake-and-pour pancake batter mix for $2. I tried to make campfire pancakes, but ended up eating a lot of clumpy batter, which was still tasty and filling. You learn to not be picky out here.
We’re hiking out tomorrow. Not too early, I hope, because it’s late and all my stuff is spread out everywhere. Also, if we’re still here when the restaurant opens at 7, I can get more coffee. Something I’m becoming very fond of. ‘Night.
Monday, June 22—Day 61
Sixty days! Two months! (Paul mis-numbered his entries, so yesterday was actually the big day.)
Two months of walking all day with a pack on my back. Two months of sleeping in a tent and going to the bathroom outside. Two months of beard on my face and two months of hair on my head. We’ve come 877 miles, and we’re feeling good.
Nothing too exciting today. We hiked ten miles to Selden Pass, crossed over the top, and put in another thirteen to the Bear Ridge Trail Junction. Five and a half more took us through swampy muck to a road, and another four or so finally brought us into Vermillion Valley Resort right before dark. A big day. The guy running the store gave us each a free beer, and we picked up our box and sorted our food by headlamp light on the porch.
There were about ten minutes where I had all of us believe that I’d left my bear canister at the top of Selden Pass, before I discovered it under my pack, where I’d left it and forgotten about it not long before. Smart.
There’s a bonfire and hikers are drinking around it and yelling. This is not a problem for me, because I can sleep through anything, and I’m real tired. ‘Night.
Two months of walking all day with a pack on my back. Two months of sleeping in a tent and going to the bathroom outside. Two months of beard on my face and two months of hair on my head. We’ve come 877 miles, and we’re feeling good.
Nothing too exciting today. We hiked ten miles to Selden Pass, crossed over the top, and put in another thirteen to the Bear Ridge Trail Junction. Five and a half more took us through swampy muck to a road, and another four or so finally brought us into Vermillion Valley Resort right before dark. A big day. The guy running the store gave us each a free beer, and we picked up our box and sorted our food by headlamp light on the porch.
There were about ten minutes where I had all of us believe that I’d left my bear canister at the top of Selden Pass, before I discovered it under my pack, where I’d left it and forgotten about it not long before. Smart.
There’s a bonfire and hikers are drinking around it and yelling. This is not a problem for me, because I can sleep through anything, and I’m real tired. ‘Night.
Sunday, June 21—Day 60
By 7 am, today was the worst day I’ve had out here.
Woke up to a cold, cold morning after drifting in and out of a cold, cold night. Breakfast was an experiment: couscous soaked in cold water instead of hot, to save fuel. It was edible, but the morning air turned the water residue in my pot to frost before I could clean it. I went back to my tent and tried to pull out the stakes, but two of them were frozen into the ground, and I broke one of the loops on my rain fly trying to pull one out. Frustrated, I left them in the ground and packed up without them.
Our first few miles took us to a wide stream with no easy way across. Tom and Jerry rolled up their pant legs and forded it in their socks and shoes. The thought of soaking my boots when they’d finally dried, and then squishing around in the cold was too much for me.
I found an almost complete line of rocks going from one side to the other. There was just one step missing. I pulled a rock out of the hillside and tossed it in. It splashed perfectly into place. Success! I stepped onto the first rock, the second (my addition) and then the third. “This is going to work,” I thought. It wasn’t. The third rock was coated in a sheet of ice. As I began to slip, I leapt back to the second rock. It shifted under my weight, and I lost my balance and fell in. FURIOUS, I forded the stream as Tom and Jerry had, with socks and boots on. By now, they were long gone, and I squished up the trail on frozen feet, half soaked and never angrier at the Sierras!
After I caught up with Tom and Jerry, we made our way up Muir Pass, the last of the big mountain passes. It was a long walk on ice-coated snow to the top, but we made it. There is a stone shack at the top dedicated to the memory of John Muir, whose trail we’ve been hiking for the last week or so. The inside is just a round room with a bench encircling the perimeter, and a blocked-off fireplace. We stayed long enough to eat some snacks and take a few pictures, and then headed down the other side of the pass.
The trail took us past mountain lakes and through beautiful meadows. Later in the evening, we hit the Evolution Creek Crossing. The water was flowing fast and strong, and there was no way across, except to ford. Unfortunately, the water was too deep for rolled up pant legs. There was only one option. We took off our pants and waded in bare-assed, one at a time. The water came up to our waists, and the current almost pulled me off balance. We made it across all right, although very cold.
The rest of the day was easy. We found a good campsite at an established campground and had a fire, the first one all our own. I feel good about things right now. Just one more big day, and then we go into Vermillion Valley Resort. G’night.
Woke up to a cold, cold morning after drifting in and out of a cold, cold night. Breakfast was an experiment: couscous soaked in cold water instead of hot, to save fuel. It was edible, but the morning air turned the water residue in my pot to frost before I could clean it. I went back to my tent and tried to pull out the stakes, but two of them were frozen into the ground, and I broke one of the loops on my rain fly trying to pull one out. Frustrated, I left them in the ground and packed up without them.
Our first few miles took us to a wide stream with no easy way across. Tom and Jerry rolled up their pant legs and forded it in their socks and shoes. The thought of soaking my boots when they’d finally dried, and then squishing around in the cold was too much for me.
I found an almost complete line of rocks going from one side to the other. There was just one step missing. I pulled a rock out of the hillside and tossed it in. It splashed perfectly into place. Success! I stepped onto the first rock, the second (my addition) and then the third. “This is going to work,” I thought. It wasn’t. The third rock was coated in a sheet of ice. As I began to slip, I leapt back to the second rock. It shifted under my weight, and I lost my balance and fell in. FURIOUS, I forded the stream as Tom and Jerry had, with socks and boots on. By now, they were long gone, and I squished up the trail on frozen feet, half soaked and never angrier at the Sierras!
After I caught up with Tom and Jerry, we made our way up Muir Pass, the last of the big mountain passes. It was a long walk on ice-coated snow to the top, but we made it. There is a stone shack at the top dedicated to the memory of John Muir, whose trail we’ve been hiking for the last week or so. The inside is just a round room with a bench encircling the perimeter, and a blocked-off fireplace. We stayed long enough to eat some snacks and take a few pictures, and then headed down the other side of the pass.
The trail took us past mountain lakes and through beautiful meadows. Later in the evening, we hit the Evolution Creek Crossing. The water was flowing fast and strong, and there was no way across, except to ford. Unfortunately, the water was too deep for rolled up pant legs. There was only one option. We took off our pants and waded in bare-assed, one at a time. The water came up to our waists, and the current almost pulled me off balance. We made it across all right, although very cold.
The rest of the day was easy. We found a good campsite at an established campground and had a fire, the first one all our own. I feel good about things right now. Just one more big day, and then we go into Vermillion Valley Resort. G’night.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Saturday, June 20—Day 59
A hard-fought 20 miles today. We woke up at 5:30, took down camp, and headed up Mather Pass. The snow was still icy and slick in the morning air, which made the pass dangerous, but still (to me) preferable to postholing and hiking in wet socks for the rest of the day.
Speaking of which, we didn’t have to ford anything today! My boots have finally dried out, and I’m pretty happy about it.
We had lunch near a stream. The water was clear enough to see to the bottom, and there were fish swimming around. Tom caught one, cooked it, and ate it. Jerry caught one and let it go. I was too busy making mashed potatoes to bother trying.
After lunch, the trail took us into gorgeous pine forests. This is a beautiful place, and it seems to jump-start my memory, which brings back totally unrelated moments from my childhood as I hike. I’ve been thinking about home all day, about family and friends and old times and future plans, and about how I’m not going to take things for granted anymore. I’ve also been thinking about how much further we still have to go. Truthfully, I’ve never felt so much like quitting and going home as I did today. I think I’m safe for now, though, because our next stop, Vermillion Valley Resort, is still two days away, and short of being airlifted, there’s no way for me to leave the trail before then. I can do this. One step at a time. ‘Night.
Speaking of which, we didn’t have to ford anything today! My boots have finally dried out, and I’m pretty happy about it.
We had lunch near a stream. The water was clear enough to see to the bottom, and there were fish swimming around. Tom caught one, cooked it, and ate it. Jerry caught one and let it go. I was too busy making mashed potatoes to bother trying.
After lunch, the trail took us into gorgeous pine forests. This is a beautiful place, and it seems to jump-start my memory, which brings back totally unrelated moments from my childhood as I hike. I’ve been thinking about home all day, about family and friends and old times and future plans, and about how I’m not going to take things for granted anymore. I’ve also been thinking about how much further we still have to go. Truthfully, I’ve never felt so much like quitting and going home as I did today. I think I’m safe for now, though, because our next stop, Vermillion Valley Resort, is still two days away, and short of being airlifted, there’s no way for me to leave the trail before then. I can do this. One step at a time. ‘Night.
Friday, June 19—Day 58
Pinchot Pass sucked. We’d camped seven miles short last night, and I found myself tired and sluggish for those seven miles. The area before the pass was beautiful. Grassy meadows with Deer grazing, unafraid. Blue skies, lakes, and the bright orange and deep green of pine trees, all framed by rocky, snowy mountains.
When the trail began to climb up the pass, things changed. There was a lot of snow on the south side of the pass, and the sun had already warmed it to melting. I postholed the whole way up, sinking in to my shins, my knees, my hips. Trying to get out of hip-deep snow is exhausting after a while, and when we finally crossed over the top of the pass, I was both triumphant, and a sort of poor winner, saying all sorts of terrible things and making gestures at the slopes behind us. The mountains returned the favor, as we had to ford river crossing after river crossing, each one wider and faster than the last. For every ford, I took off my boots and socks, rolled up my pant legs, and stepped in the freezing cold water. The current tried to sweep my feet out from under me, and almost succeeded a few times. The water pushed and pounded my legs, reaching halfway up my thighs and soaking my pants, and it was all I could do to keep my balance, stepping carefully and not so carefully on the rocks along the bottom. None of us fell in, but we were soaked and freezing anyway when we finally set up camp. I can still hear the roar of water all around me. I miss the desert. ‘Night.
When the trail began to climb up the pass, things changed. There was a lot of snow on the south side of the pass, and the sun had already warmed it to melting. I postholed the whole way up, sinking in to my shins, my knees, my hips. Trying to get out of hip-deep snow is exhausting after a while, and when we finally crossed over the top of the pass, I was both triumphant, and a sort of poor winner, saying all sorts of terrible things and making gestures at the slopes behind us. The mountains returned the favor, as we had to ford river crossing after river crossing, each one wider and faster than the last. For every ford, I took off my boots and socks, rolled up my pant legs, and stepped in the freezing cold water. The current tried to sweep my feet out from under me, and almost succeeded a few times. The water pushed and pounded my legs, reaching halfway up my thighs and soaking my pants, and it was all I could do to keep my balance, stepping carefully and not so carefully on the rocks along the bottom. None of us fell in, but we were soaked and freezing anyway when we finally set up camp. I can still hear the roar of water all around me. I miss the desert. ‘Night.
Thursday, June 18—Day 57
Made it through the night without being murdered by poisonous spiders, and met up with Kevin, our ride to the trailhead. Kevin had stopped as we were hitching to Lone Pine from Independence, and after driving us to town and showing us around, had given us his card in case we needed a ride to the trailhead later. What a guy!
After he dropped us off, we began the four mile climb back up to Kearsarge Pass. It took a long time, and I lost a cherry pie along the way, not realizing it later, whereupon I threw my pack around in a tantrum.
Still, lost pies aside, the climb wasn’t too hard at all, and, although my body started out still sore from days before, I soon felt great to be hiking again, gaining ground and putting miles behind us. We made our way up to Glen Pass and slipped, slid, and postholed down the snowy slopes on the other side. We stopped at the beautiful Rae Lakes for lunch on top of some rocks, and I got my second sunburn of the trail. Third. I forgot that the sun, reflecting off the snow, burns just as well as the sun shining straight down, and ended up with a sunburn after Forrester Pass.
Next is Pinchot Pass. Like Bronson Pinchot, Balki from “Perfect Strangers.” I wonder if that show’ out on DVD yet. ‘Night.
After he dropped us off, we began the four mile climb back up to Kearsarge Pass. It took a long time, and I lost a cherry pie along the way, not realizing it later, whereupon I threw my pack around in a tantrum.
Still, lost pies aside, the climb wasn’t too hard at all, and, although my body started out still sore from days before, I soon felt great to be hiking again, gaining ground and putting miles behind us. We made our way up to Glen Pass and slipped, slid, and postholed down the snowy slopes on the other side. We stopped at the beautiful Rae Lakes for lunch on top of some rocks, and I got my second sunburn of the trail. Third. I forgot that the sun, reflecting off the snow, burns just as well as the sun shining straight down, and ended up with a sunburn after Forrester Pass.
Next is Pinchot Pass. Like Bronson Pinchot, Balki from “Perfect Strangers.” I wonder if that show’ out on DVD yet. ‘Night.
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