Ah leaving Kennedy Meadows, with its beloved burgers. Classics like The Double Gobbler, and of course The Double Justin. We drew stares and comments, not because of any hard expressions on our faces nor confident swagger to our exit... but because we were the only ones walking into a 50% snow-pack High Sierra's in mid-summer with ice axes. But we did it anyway, because ice axes are cool.
This was when we started camping above 10,000 feet, having peanut butter snickers and dipping Twix bars in peanut butter helped. I'm not sure if the excessive amount of olive oil was good, I think about one third of the volume of our meals consisted of the stuff. Remembering it makes me a little sick.
It's funny, most people imagine the mountains to be generally a peaceful and quiet getaway from the noise of big cities. But the noise I remember most about our time so far in the Sierras isn't the calming chirp of birds (though there was one that sounded like someone was strangling it or feeding it fried chitterlings or something) or hum of busy bees, but the incessant drone of jet engines cruising overhead. Sometimes only a few hundred feet above us. I mostly don't see them, but I did manage to spot a couple of fighter jets shooting by. I was told it was technically illegal for them to fly that low over the Sierras, but I guess the Sierras are just so damn nice you have to touch them to believe it.
Hiking up after several thousand calories of Twix and peanut butter I encounter Rebecca coming the other way, I didn't have much time to ponder this as she was coming fast... bear! A big one too. A giant black beast to the left of the trail, chewing peacefully. Almost ruminating on something that would take a long time to extract the nutrients from. Grass maybe? I couldn't tell, I was too distracted by the almost bovine curve of its nose, too bovine. Yes it was a big cow. It may have been a bull, but definitely cattle of some nature. It was sitting down which originally fooled us into believing it to be a bear. But we were so mentally geared for bear encounters, we had our bear mace and bear bells too! But this was not to be.
It was surprisingly dry directly after Kennedy Meadows, a little disheartened we retreated to Horseshoe Meadow in hopes of catching a ride to Lone Pine for more tasty tasty snacks. I thought I heard something Jurassic, or at the very least Triassic. Feeling every childhood dino-pocalypse fear rise in me, and maybe a little hope that it was a dinosaur film set or something where we could be that little mishap that stumbles through editing and film-nerds collate into a list of oversights a film has made. No, just more cows, a lot in a little pen. And a few minutes later after seeing a sign warning campers that they're now in an active bear area another bear-cow-scare as a calf leaps up from behind a log.
Getting a ride to Lone Pine took 3 hours, the ranger said it was illegal or something for him to give us a ride but assured us there would be plenty of rides. He didn't mention most wouldn't be leaving until 5pm, it was 11am. We just wanted fatty food and cold sodas. But we met Fire Hazard and Outlaw who had some mysterious luck on their side and promptly got us a ride with an ex-military guy who packed out around 16 days of food at a time. It was a dramatic ride down, dropping 6000 feet down the side of the Sierras to a desert valley with our first proper look at the Sierras to the West.
Lone Pine used to be in a green valley with a large lake to the south, then the water company brought up all the land secretly (maybe it wasn't a secret, but it sounds more sinister that way) and pumped it to LA along the Californian Aqueduct. Draining the Lake and the green valley of most of its vegetation. At least that's what we were told, I think the film Chinatown is based on it. Lone Pine has a big history in film, The Alabama hills nearby are the most famous and the surrounding area has been the set of over 300 films. I can see why, crazy rock formations and a towering mountain range in the background. Needless to say we stayed where John Wayne stayed and got free Margaritas and Nachos. It was a nice town, but we soon found ourselves bumping along in the back of a ranchers' truck with a couple of other hikers, Coyote and Samurai, back to Horseshoe Meadow.
This was when we began to realise we were suffering from altitude sickness, Rebecca more so than I but I still remember camping at about 11,500 feet that night (by a really nice mountain lake) and seeing the tent spin if I opened my eyes. We remembered the last week and started thinking maybe that's why we slowed down. Rebecca forgot all about this of course when we stumbled upon Crabtree Meadow, disturbing a large group of Marmots who bounded for the rocks, but surprisingly the herd of deer just kept grazing as if we never existed. I can only describe Marmots as a mixture between Otters and Meerkats, they run in a loping manner similar to the former and have a lookout perched on rocks much like the latter. Needless to say Rebecca adored them, and deer are a favorite of hers so she was pretty chuffed when she was able to get within about 20 m of them, maybe because there was a small lazy river between her and them. Above this peaceful meadow scene of course was our next destination, Mount Whitney. The tallest peak in The US outside Alaska, sitting at 14,495 feet it was about a 4000 foot uphill from Crabtree, but we did it the next day. Used all our snacks to get there but we made it. There was a wonderful steep drop-off of 2 or 3000 feet on the East side of the peak which made my feet itch, but the view to the North and West was inspiring.
It was about a 17 mile round trip to the peak and back so we crashed in Crabtree again, after a small chat with a guy filming a documentary about the PCT. He said he served with some Kiwis in Afghanistan, got along really well and asked where to sign up for the NZ forces. He's done some or all of the Appalachian Trail and talked about some of the differences in the trail, people and culture. The next night we camped at around 12,500 feet below Forester Pass, the highest point on the PCT (it's around 13,300. Mt Whitney isn't actually on the trail), the trail went through a series of lakes and waterways forming a beautiful alpine garden with lots of chubby Marmots to cheer things up. The altitude sickness didn't improve that night unfortunately.
The next morning we had a tiny oatmeal sachet each, and that was the last of our food. We climbed Forester Pass early and set of at a trot for Cedar Grove, around 9,000 feet below us and 23 miles of hiking. We got hungry. It was some of the most beautiful scenery we had encountered on the PCT so far, and all I could sense was the random olfactory hallucinations of tomato sauce, chips, meat, and oddly enough bourbon. From what I can remember some of what we saw that day was picture perfect, but we took no pictures. We were hungry, and we had limited memory and battery on our camera that we were saving for the giant Sequoias we planned to see the next day. Neither of us thought that going down this far was getting to perfect elevations and temperatures for bears and rattlesnakes, all of which had plenty of foliage to hide in. I just remember the fury at the realisation that we were misinformed and Cedar Grove was 6 miles further than originally thought.
Arriving at Roads End we catch a ride within 2 minutes for those last 6 miles to Cedar Grove, the guy even gave us snacks and bread! It was good seed-packed loaf. Of course we ordered what looked like the biggest burger at the lodge. Rebecca couldn't get through half, our stomachs had shrunk. It wasn't a common area for PCT hikers to go through so we met a few enthusiastic people, none more so than a couple who offered to drive us around to see the Sequoias with them the next day. Perfect! Mark and Jackie Jessie had both read the book Wild and were fans of the PCT. So they had questions for us and of course we had questions for them about things like tipping etiquette and the like. After agreeing to meet at 8 am the next day we trundle off to find a suitable campsite, there were probably campgrounds close by but being PCT hikers used to pitching anywhere (and following the advice of the guy who gave us a ride) we stealth-camping in a stand of trees next to the river. Washed our clothes using river water and the bear canister, I fell asleep fearing I'd be woken by angry locals wielding baseball bats unhappy with dirty hikers/travelers thinking they can use their land. I definitely felt safer in the high mountains than close to people/cities at that point.
Waking early to get the first showers, and a quick breakfast, Mark and Jackie whisk us off in their air conditioned vehicle to see some of the most amazing trees in the world. And they were worth every mile walked. We even got an unexpected gift when a giant black bear leaped across the road right in front of the car (near-miss) and dashed down a steep bank. Off to steal candy from a baby or something. Arriving at the Seqouia grove we stroll down to General Sherman, and get to know what it's like to be a mouse staring up at a six foot person. I'm glad it can't walk. Mark informs me that a group of African American soldiers were stationed to guard the Sequoias sometime in the 19th Century, and because their short hair felt like Buffalo fur the Native Americans called them Buffalo soldiers. I did not know that. After sandwiches and milkshakes we return to Cedar Grove to wash our clothes and have some awesome salad with chicken and bacon, the guy who worked there even gave me the last salmon meal which he was originally going to eat!! After stealth camping another night we meet Mark and Jackie who assure us they're going to take more photos and so can drop us back at Roads End. We plan to meet up in Bishop after they'd visited Yosemite and go see the oldest living things, the Bristlecone Pines, and say our farewells.
Back on the trail we meet a couple of stoners with doctors cards allowing them to buy the medicinal wacky-backy. The conversations center on surviving mountain lion, bear and even beaver attacks and European politics. It was productive. But soon after separating from them (we were heading up Paradise Valley and they were following Bubbs Creek) we have our closest encounter with a bear yet. A cute little ginger guy, about the size of a large dog he/she must have been only a year or so old. It didn't mind us, just rummaged about in the undergrowth along the trail. Unfortunately it was going the same way we were so it took us a little while to shake the guy and get back to our normal rhythm, but it was a great experience. I got a compliment on my beard from some Sikhs, Rebecca used her hair as a makeshift beard but they weren't fooled. These guys are pros on beard-ologic observations.
It was a great walk, we stopped often to dip into the ice-cold pools and river-ways, nightfall approached and we were still 8 miles from the trail. We became worried about permits and rangers coming down on us screaming for signed authority to be there. We were so determined Rebecca almost ran right into the fleshy behind of a fully grown male black bear, all I saw was it's posterior dashing into the woods. Rebecca assured me it was the largest bear she'd ever seen, as big as a van/lorry. Fortunately it took one look at us and dashed for the hills. As night was coming in fast we made sure we made extra noise from then on. We still saw another bear further on above us taking a peek and a sniff for high calorie snacks, it could have been the same one but it didn't bother us. Just as pitch dark sealed the trail we found the PCT! Camping immediately we wake and breakfast under the single-person capacity swing-bridge. To our surprise we see Brock crossing, we thought all PCT hikers would be at least 3 or 4 days ahead of us. But it wasn't only him, we see Vagazzle, Safari, Plato, Indie, Rocket Llama and more! Everyone! It was crazy, they'd all stayed four days in Bishop eating and drinking then spent a few days lazing around Rae Lakes swimming and fishing. They were heading on to a natural water slide on the trail, but we were heading South to Kearsarge Pass to be in Independence for Independence Day. It was good to catch up with them all, but just before we finished breaking camp the most unexpected arrival shows up. Pippin who got off the trail for 8 days back in Kennedy Meadows trucks past "NO FUCKING WAY!!" erupts from his mouth when he spots us, rushing up for a bone-crushing bear hug. It was great. I don't think we left that spot until mid afternoon.
We move across the bridge and spot Emily, then Work Horse and even Wolf Paw and AJ show up! There goes another couple of hours. I think we walked six miles that day. We camp near Rae Lakes and get absolutely swamped by mosquitoes, there are about 20 or 30 sitting on our tent. We opted not to have the rain fly as it's quicker and you can see the stars. Unfortunately we're awoken by lightning flashes and thunder, a slow rhythm of fat rain drops starts to fall. I frantically dash about to cover us up, fortunately it didn't turn out to be anything serious. But it was a concern the next day as we climbed Glen Pass, even though the thunder claps were distant they could roll over us quickly. Dropping down the South side of Glen Pass we find ourselves above Bullfrog Lake and in sight of Forester Pass again. Kearsarge Pass is close, and it's too hot to camp so we decide to hike on and camp just above Onion Valley. We meet a nice guy, Old Brown Hermit, who's done a ton of travel about The States and India. Well hiked, he gives us tips on places to go, advice and also his opinion on the PCT and PCT hikers which we think is bang on. But that's just our opinion.
It's a quick walk down to Onion Valley, where we get a ride from a family convoy to Independence. We're advised that Tom is in town with hikers renting a few rooms at The Courthouse Motel, but we think it'll be packed so decide to try the campsite a mile out of town. First of course we wolf down a couple of foot-long subs and digest, then off to the library to check the net and do some reading, it's way too hot to be outside. Damn desert temps. When it gets cooler we head out to the campground and pitch, then back in for an amazing pork burrito and sangria. Relax in the park to live music as a group of locals fire up a deep pit barbecue to cook meat for the festivities the next day (4th of July/Independence Day).
We sleep through the flag raising ceremony, but make it to the pancake breakfast. I have my first pancakes since the Big Bear challenge. They were ok. Check out some market stalls and watch the very subdued parade. Had some delicious pie at the pie social then watched a classic American spelling bee. Two helpings of deep pit barbecue and a surprisingly large amount of fireworks later we decide we've had a pretty good 4th of July.
The next morning we catch the first bus to Bishop, a significantly larger town to hole up in the Best Western. Finally a shower. Mark and Jackie call us the next morning and arrive around 9 am, as The Best Western is booked out that night (Saturday) they set us up in The Comfort Inn with a discount, then off to the White Mountains to see the oldest trees in the world. The Methuselah has the title of oldest known tree in the world, it's not actually marked which is kinda nice. But they give you the rough area of it so you know you're near it, and can guess which one you think it is. It's not easy to do so as size does not reflect age with the Bristlecone Pines. It was a strange feeling to stand next to something that has lived for almost 5000 years. Mark wanted to head down to the Alabama hills to check film sites, but we convinced him to drop us off as we were feeling pooped. He assured us they'd drop by at breakfast before they left the next day. We blobbed out and napped, then started some serious planning. Organising the rest of our trip, brain storming what we wanted to do. I got frustrated with the computer there as they only had Windows 2000 and really old web browsers that I couldn't update because the OS was horribly old. But finally I've updated! Up to Bishop. We're actually in San Francisco now, so I have another week or two I have to put in... but I've had enough for now and I'm sure you have too.
It was about a 17 mile round trip to the peak and back so we crashed in Crabtree again, after a small chat with a guy filming a documentary about the PCT. He said he served with some Kiwis in Afghanistan, got along really well and asked where to sign up for the NZ forces. He's done some or all of the Appalachian Trail and talked about some of the differences in the trail, people and culture. The next night we camped at around 12,500 feet below Forester Pass, the highest point on the PCT (it's around 13,300. Mt Whitney isn't actually on the trail), the trail went through a series of lakes and waterways forming a beautiful alpine garden with lots of chubby Marmots to cheer things up. The altitude sickness didn't improve that night unfortunately.
The next morning we had a tiny oatmeal sachet each, and that was the last of our food. We climbed Forester Pass early and set of at a trot for Cedar Grove, around 9,000 feet below us and 23 miles of hiking. We got hungry. It was some of the most beautiful scenery we had encountered on the PCT so far, and all I could sense was the random olfactory hallucinations of tomato sauce, chips, meat, and oddly enough bourbon. From what I can remember some of what we saw that day was picture perfect, but we took no pictures. We were hungry, and we had limited memory and battery on our camera that we were saving for the giant Sequoias we planned to see the next day. Neither of us thought that going down this far was getting to perfect elevations and temperatures for bears and rattlesnakes, all of which had plenty of foliage to hide in. I just remember the fury at the realisation that we were misinformed and Cedar Grove was 6 miles further than originally thought.
Arriving at Roads End we catch a ride within 2 minutes for those last 6 miles to Cedar Grove, the guy even gave us snacks and bread! It was good seed-packed loaf. Of course we ordered what looked like the biggest burger at the lodge. Rebecca couldn't get through half, our stomachs had shrunk. It wasn't a common area for PCT hikers to go through so we met a few enthusiastic people, none more so than a couple who offered to drive us around to see the Sequoias with them the next day. Perfect! Mark and Jackie Jessie had both read the book Wild and were fans of the PCT. So they had questions for us and of course we had questions for them about things like tipping etiquette and the like. After agreeing to meet at 8 am the next day we trundle off to find a suitable campsite, there were probably campgrounds close by but being PCT hikers used to pitching anywhere (and following the advice of the guy who gave us a ride) we stealth-camping in a stand of trees next to the river. Washed our clothes using river water and the bear canister, I fell asleep fearing I'd be woken by angry locals wielding baseball bats unhappy with dirty hikers/travelers thinking they can use their land. I definitely felt safer in the high mountains than close to people/cities at that point.
Waking early to get the first showers, and a quick breakfast, Mark and Jackie whisk us off in their air conditioned vehicle to see some of the most amazing trees in the world. And they were worth every mile walked. We even got an unexpected gift when a giant black bear leaped across the road right in front of the car (near-miss) and dashed down a steep bank. Off to steal candy from a baby or something. Arriving at the Seqouia grove we stroll down to General Sherman, and get to know what it's like to be a mouse staring up at a six foot person. I'm glad it can't walk. Mark informs me that a group of African American soldiers were stationed to guard the Sequoias sometime in the 19th Century, and because their short hair felt like Buffalo fur the Native Americans called them Buffalo soldiers. I did not know that. After sandwiches and milkshakes we return to Cedar Grove to wash our clothes and have some awesome salad with chicken and bacon, the guy who worked there even gave me the last salmon meal which he was originally going to eat!! After stealth camping another night we meet Mark and Jackie who assure us they're going to take more photos and so can drop us back at Roads End. We plan to meet up in Bishop after they'd visited Yosemite and go see the oldest living things, the Bristlecone Pines, and say our farewells.
Back on the trail we meet a couple of stoners with doctors cards allowing them to buy the medicinal wacky-backy. The conversations center on surviving mountain lion, bear and even beaver attacks and European politics. It was productive. But soon after separating from them (we were heading up Paradise Valley and they were following Bubbs Creek) we have our closest encounter with a bear yet. A cute little ginger guy, about the size of a large dog he/she must have been only a year or so old. It didn't mind us, just rummaged about in the undergrowth along the trail. Unfortunately it was going the same way we were so it took us a little while to shake the guy and get back to our normal rhythm, but it was a great experience. I got a compliment on my beard from some Sikhs, Rebecca used her hair as a makeshift beard but they weren't fooled. These guys are pros on beard-ologic observations.
It was a great walk, we stopped often to dip into the ice-cold pools and river-ways, nightfall approached and we were still 8 miles from the trail. We became worried about permits and rangers coming down on us screaming for signed authority to be there. We were so determined Rebecca almost ran right into the fleshy behind of a fully grown male black bear, all I saw was it's posterior dashing into the woods. Rebecca assured me it was the largest bear she'd ever seen, as big as a van/lorry. Fortunately it took one look at us and dashed for the hills. As night was coming in fast we made sure we made extra noise from then on. We still saw another bear further on above us taking a peek and a sniff for high calorie snacks, it could have been the same one but it didn't bother us. Just as pitch dark sealed the trail we found the PCT! Camping immediately we wake and breakfast under the single-person capacity swing-bridge. To our surprise we see Brock crossing, we thought all PCT hikers would be at least 3 or 4 days ahead of us. But it wasn't only him, we see Vagazzle, Safari, Plato, Indie, Rocket Llama and more! Everyone! It was crazy, they'd all stayed four days in Bishop eating and drinking then spent a few days lazing around Rae Lakes swimming and fishing. They were heading on to a natural water slide on the trail, but we were heading South to Kearsarge Pass to be in Independence for Independence Day. It was good to catch up with them all, but just before we finished breaking camp the most unexpected arrival shows up. Pippin who got off the trail for 8 days back in Kennedy Meadows trucks past "NO FUCKING WAY!!" erupts from his mouth when he spots us, rushing up for a bone-crushing bear hug. It was great. I don't think we left that spot until mid afternoon.
We move across the bridge and spot Emily, then Work Horse and even Wolf Paw and AJ show up! There goes another couple of hours. I think we walked six miles that day. We camp near Rae Lakes and get absolutely swamped by mosquitoes, there are about 20 or 30 sitting on our tent. We opted not to have the rain fly as it's quicker and you can see the stars. Unfortunately we're awoken by lightning flashes and thunder, a slow rhythm of fat rain drops starts to fall. I frantically dash about to cover us up, fortunately it didn't turn out to be anything serious. But it was a concern the next day as we climbed Glen Pass, even though the thunder claps were distant they could roll over us quickly. Dropping down the South side of Glen Pass we find ourselves above Bullfrog Lake and in sight of Forester Pass again. Kearsarge Pass is close, and it's too hot to camp so we decide to hike on and camp just above Onion Valley. We meet a nice guy, Old Brown Hermit, who's done a ton of travel about The States and India. Well hiked, he gives us tips on places to go, advice and also his opinion on the PCT and PCT hikers which we think is bang on. But that's just our opinion.
It's a quick walk down to Onion Valley, where we get a ride from a family convoy to Independence. We're advised that Tom is in town with hikers renting a few rooms at The Courthouse Motel, but we think it'll be packed so decide to try the campsite a mile out of town. First of course we wolf down a couple of foot-long subs and digest, then off to the library to check the net and do some reading, it's way too hot to be outside. Damn desert temps. When it gets cooler we head out to the campground and pitch, then back in for an amazing pork burrito and sangria. Relax in the park to live music as a group of locals fire up a deep pit barbecue to cook meat for the festivities the next day (4th of July/Independence Day).
We sleep through the flag raising ceremony, but make it to the pancake breakfast. I have my first pancakes since the Big Bear challenge. They were ok. Check out some market stalls and watch the very subdued parade. Had some delicious pie at the pie social then watched a classic American spelling bee. Two helpings of deep pit barbecue and a surprisingly large amount of fireworks later we decide we've had a pretty good 4th of July.
The next morning we catch the first bus to Bishop, a significantly larger town to hole up in the Best Western. Finally a shower. Mark and Jackie call us the next morning and arrive around 9 am, as The Best Western is booked out that night (Saturday) they set us up in The Comfort Inn with a discount, then off to the White Mountains to see the oldest trees in the world. The Methuselah has the title of oldest known tree in the world, it's not actually marked which is kinda nice. But they give you the rough area of it so you know you're near it, and can guess which one you think it is. It's not easy to do so as size does not reflect age with the Bristlecone Pines. It was a strange feeling to stand next to something that has lived for almost 5000 years. Mark wanted to head down to the Alabama hills to check film sites, but we convinced him to drop us off as we were feeling pooped. He assured us they'd drop by at breakfast before they left the next day. We blobbed out and napped, then started some serious planning. Organising the rest of our trip, brain storming what we wanted to do. I got frustrated with the computer there as they only had Windows 2000 and really old web browsers that I couldn't update because the OS was horribly old. But finally I've updated! Up to Bishop. We're actually in San Francisco now, so I have another week or two I have to put in... but I've had enough for now and I'm sure you have too.
