High Sierra Trail - Day 2: Wrong turn at Albuquerque

7-22-17

As we woke up that morning in Bearpaw, the light slowly filtered through the tight group of trees into the campground. We were just rousing in the tent when I heard something at the bear box and then a deep "HUFF." J and I instantly knew it was a bear as we had been talking about it the night before knowing the obvious draw of meadow for black bears (and the name did not disappoint).  We looked up to see the black bear lumbering away from the bear box toward the upper part of the meadow, being foiled by diligent hikers who did not leave food out and secured the box properly. And of course, we were smart to be so diligent as well. Thank God.  My faith in humanity would be restored but it would not be the first time this trip. We watched as the bear lumbered away and I captured a brief video clip.

Part of Bearpaw Meadow in the morning

We all seemed to be in good spirits but definitely off to a slower start that morning and to be fair... it was the first time we broke down camp so an order of operations was not quite established. The night prior, we decided to take a detour to the south due to the rumored collapse of the ice tunnel near Kaweah Gap. This meant at least a half a day (or more) added to our journey but it was out best chance of making it to Mt. Whitney in the timeframe.  We had no idea about the trail conditions on this stretch because none of us had traversed it prior, nor did we research it much as we did not know it was an option to get us where we were going.  We were going in somewhat blind but trying to be optimistic about this diversion.  I scoured the map the night before and analyzed possible creek crossings and a drop in elevation a little under 2,000ft but the first leg would be shielded from the sun and then back up 2,500ft. J was familiar with just the first couple of miles and remembered it as "hot" as the trail leads to the west but we would be heading south and then southeast.  We hoped the water was lower like at Mehrten. It was really unclear how tough the final miles would be and that would determine where we would sleep that night.  We needed a water source for camp and so we aimed for Pinto Lake.

Heading down to Redwood Meadow - photo courtesy of JAG

As we packed up and headed out, a couple of guys were hiking into Bearpaw from the trail, so we chatted with them a bit. They came from the west so could not offer any good advice on our stretch beyond that but we warned them about the ice tunnel situation.  They would be the last people we saw for quite awhile.  The air was nice and brisk and it felt good heading DOWN with a 40lb+ pack on instead of up.  It was only a couple of miles to Redwood Meadow. What we didn't know was which route would be best.  J remembered one stretch to the west that was lower and possibly hot this time of year and suggested an upper trail.  There was NO ONE on this trail which was nice but seemed odd. We went through beautiful stretches of Sequoias until we reached a creek crossing. What we didn't know until long after the trip is that this stretch across the creek was labeled "impassable" the week prior, on the website notices.  We just did not pay attention to that particular notice because it was not on the High Sierra Trail. (Pretty sure all future trips after this one has taught us to plan several 'escape' routes by researching alt routes better ;-) 

The creek was extremely swift, very wide and deep in some parts. While not raging, it was the type of creek that could definitely knock you and your pack into the water and drag you along the rocks. We scouted places to cross where the banks were so covered in shrubs as promising crossings were hard to get to from the bank.  The search was frustrating as it was taking precious time.  I looked upstream to see any possibilities. I spotted a couple of random rocks that looked like possible markings from prior hikers. I was determined to find a way to cross. No one wanted to backtrack to another trail that we ran the risk of having an even worse time of crossing.  Scouting off trail... J and M headed downstream to see what they could find there.  I started out upstream without my pack through the brush but knew I'd have to mark it to get back. Then I saw a cairn trail near a split of the creek and then walked further to see a piece of bark sitting upright. Instinct told me someone left it there on purpose and I started to see a few crossing possibilities across the upper part of the creek.  I took off my shoes to test out the rocks and analyzed the risk.  I mapped the route I took back in my mind so I could remember how to lead J and M back there.  As I'm telling J, I compared it with the movie Elf as "First you traverse the Asparagus Forest, then you take a right at the lichen covered stick, then you pass the fallen logs..." you get the drift.  But it worked...  and I'll add in an Elf reference whenever I get the chance. There was another obstacle: 2 pair sandals, 3 people. It is a long story as to why this would happen that ends in "weigh reduction vs. over preparedness."  The rocks would demand stability, we did not need our packs in the water on Day 2. J and I both had sandals but M did not. We figured a way in which we could cross and then strategically stop to throw sandals in a chain back to M with ... you guessed it... THE ROPE! The rope was not long (useless) but with our plan, we made it work.  J and I also wrapped our packs with our rain covers and moved the foam pads to the top.  
Also fun fact: when crossing a swift or deep stream with a large backpack you are advised to UNBUCKLE your pack from you. Simply, this is so the weight of the pack is not tied to you so much that it causes you to drown (either by dragging or you knock yourself unconscious). Which in some cases means you lose your food, clothes, shelter, GPS down the creek, river or waterfall but at least you are alive in that moment.  In hindsight, both options really suck. We unbuckled our packs and did our first major crossing slowly but successfully. You can't tell much from the video but the water was knee to thigh high, really swift, rocks were very slick and since it was a long crossing... our toes and legs went numb before it ended only to have that burning pain when you got out of the water. The whole ordeal with this creek probably took us 2 hours but our packs were dry and no one fell in. J did have a fall on the hike back up to the trail but luckily a scrape.

Another crossing/waterfall below

We made it to Redwood Meadow Ranger Station for lunch, however, there was no ranger in sight. This backcountry cabin had been padlocked which either meant NPS had no money to staff a Ranger there or the Ranger was out on the trail on assignment.  It is not uncommon for backcountry Rangers to be gone several times in the season checking on trails/conditions.  There is a fascinating book on the subject called The Last Season my dad told me about when I returned from the trip (he didn't tell me about it before I left because it highlights the dangers of the area and surrounds the real-life story of a ranger's death).  I read the Backpacker.com excerpt but have the book on my list.  We had quite a bit of adventure for one day but alas... it was only half over. 

Continuing on the trail past Redwood Meadow, we hiked for hours with at least two times where we thought we were at one spot on the map but we were not.  A couple more creek crossings as well. We FINALLY ran into other hikers towards the end of the day.  The first one was a solo guy who hurt his knee on the river crossing from the trail coming in from Kings Canyon.  He inquired about the Ranger Station and let him know it was not staffed when we were there. He was sure he could get back to Sequoia that day before his knee got worse but he did not want to chance being stranded on his way to Whitney if it did. He chalked it up to dumb luck but he had done these trails several times so he knew eventually he'd be back... he wished us luck on our journey because he knew we only had 1 shot at it this season.  We asked where the next junction was (we thought we were already there and he said "just around the corner." This would become a running joke for us the entire trip because his definition of "corner" was about an hour later for us going uphill and then back down to the junction. People were setting up camp at the junction at that point.

Looking up toward Pinto Lake - photo courtesy of JAG

This junction is where I first started to feel off. My body was telling me to stay at the junction and set up camp and my inner voice was telling me that we needed to make it to Pinto Lake if we wanted to get over Black Rock pass the next day.  At the same time, I had stress and thoughts in my head from back in the real world I left behind. Things that I was hoping this trip would sort out for me. But with every step, those thoughts melted away as the physical took over. We drank a fair amount of water that day but it was a hot afternoon/evening as we ascended up switchbacks towards Pinto Lake.  I started to feel a rush of fatigue, my legs were achy, starting to wobble and I started getting nauseous. Oddly, my hip was not giving me trouble.. it was just an overwhelming feeling that something was not right. The sun was going down and I was not sure I was going to be able to get to our destination especially since we could not gauge how much time it would take us to get there on this unfamiliar/unresearched trail. I was worried it was altitude sickness and at the same time, I kept telling myself at each turn I could keep going if I could just go slowly. I'm not sure I was thirsty or even dehydrated but the heat urged me to drink more. I had already drunk 4 liters that day but I ran out of water somewhere on the switchbacks.  J would stay back as M moved ahead and at some point we negotiated that I might need to leave my pack behind and one of them would go get it later.  I appreciated the offer but then felt guilty if they had to actually do it... this was NOT an easy hike for any of us and I felt like a burden at this point. I hated every step. I hated my pack. I hated the heat.

J told the story of this event in her blog from her perspective and it was pretty accurate: "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."
I

Switchbacks up to Pinto Lake - photo courtesy of JAG

As I contemplated the thought of possibly passing out on the trail and almost fell twice, I took some extended breaks. I gave myself some internal pep talks about continuing on despite warning signs. I hadn't thrown up yet and my slight headache was not worsening so this was giving me some hope. I did not want to tell them exactly how bad I was feeling but they could see it on my face and how I was moving. I was worried I might be a stubborn idiot... I knew I was supposed to descend immediately if those things happened.  I promised myself I would if it did.  I believe that extended break, my refusal to fully abandon my pack, J and M's encouragement and the distraction ahead kept me going despite my condition.  But in hindsight it was luck, because what comes after this status... can be fatal within hours. You can read about it here. I found out later that even my knowledge of this was skewed, the most preventative approach for altitude sickness is to ascend slower than 1600ft per day but we really didn't have that luxury this trip. Just because I did Borah with 5000ft in one day doesn't mean I was immune, even Olympic athletes are not immune.

At this point, it was getting dark and M came back to us so we could hike together. As we continued to ascend and somewhere near the creek/waterfall we hear a loud, deep/low toned, rhythmic noise.  "Huuuh  huuuh  huuuh  huuuh" and then a pause and started again.  It got louder as we climbed higher. We briefly discussed the possible animals it could be and ruled out mountain lion and bear, which was great because fatigued hikers at dusk with no other humans around was not an appealing situation. J thought she'd heard this sound before at Heather Lake but couldn't exactly place it. Eventually, the sound started to move away from us. To this day, we have not discovered what animal it was despite some light research.  We arrived in the camp area around 9pm and I was feeling delirious.  J and M did most of the setup, water pumping and cooking as I had to lay there and drink water for awhile. I did not like eating the meal and felt awful. I prayed that I would be recovered by morning.  J sent her GPS spot message. Later we would find out this one WAS received by our husbands. Also later, I found out my husband was not in a good mindset that night after not receiving the first night's signal (that we were safe in Bearpaw) only to get the next signal wildly off the High Sierra Trail in an area I did not tell him was a possibility. The night I returned to Whitney Portal he laments via my 'I made it out alive' text: "And then... you took a wrong turn at Albuquerque"  Indeed I did.  We even used that phrase along the journey to describe our alternate route so when I received that text on the night we completed HST/Whitney, we all howled with laughter.

We never even saw a lake coming into camp... there would be a hashtag that summed up my feelings that night in three words. We had an extra, unplanned mountain pass to climb in the morning and I would need to use that angst to get me there.

Sunset and not yet to Pinto Lake - photo courtesy of JAG

J's full Day 2 post here for another perspective.

#bearhuff

#asparagusforest

#lichenstick

#nonameriver

#justaroundthecorner

#fuckpintolake

#wrongturnatAlbuquerque

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
Strange animal sounds at dusk: YESPrivacy: Some

High Sierra Trail - Day 1: The Decision

7-21-17 
As the sun peeked through the lodgepole pines around Crescent Meadow, we said our goodbyes to J's dad and wife but also to civilization.  We started the trail at around 7:30am, a little later than we planned.  Since we hiked this portion of the trail 6 years earlier, we were at least familiar with what the day might have in store for us. In June 2011, Mehrten Creek was a dangerous crossing due to the high water year; a slanted slick rock water fall and the safest crossing being 3 feet pool on the edge of a cliff. We knew this year would be better since we were 1 month forward into the season but also read the last updates regarding Mehrten on the website.  Regardless, Mehrten was a bit of a litmus test for the rest of the crossings.  We took pictures with the historic wooden sign, noting the inaccuracy of the mileage but happy to start the journey.

We leisurely hiked through the shady meadow to make our way to the portion of the trail that boasts a view of Moro Rock and the Middle Fork of the Kaweah valley below.  Although the packs were heavy, this particular portion of the trail was not strenuous. Our moods were light as we hummed our epic soundtracks as well as singing whatever song came to mind to keep a good pace.

Sometime in the morning we encountered a couple with their small infant child, backpacking gear in tow. It is common to get information from hikers on wilderness trails, everyone seems to help each other out.  They were heading back after a couple days at Hamilton Lakes and sure enough... they had good intel on what lied ahead.  Dad with the "infant pack" let us know that an ice tunnel collapsed on the stretch of trail near Kaweah Gap that we planned to pass on Day 2.  He had heard about it from the other campers at Hamilton Lakes and went up the day prior to check it out but did not plan to cross the ice with an axe since he had the little one with him (this dude was hard core, as was his wife).  The warm temps likely caused the collapse and then an "ice river" filled in part of it so that the only way around it was above or below it on ice, on a 45 degree angle. He said if we had good ice climbing skills and axes, we should be able to cross with our packs.  However, we did not feel comfortable (nor did we bring an ice axe, only microspikes as advised by NPS for that area). The wilderness office did not warn us of an ice tunnel collapse because it just happened the day prior.  He speculated it would be days before enough ice would melt in the tunnel to get through. What this meant for us was the possibility that we would hike to the location the next day and have to turn around once we assessed the situation ourselves and try the next day or miss our window to Whitney completely. Knowing our end destination was Whitney, he recommended an alternate route and we pulled out our maps to give it a look.  He said the southern route would add a half a day but it was the only trail that could get us around the area in the time frame. We took the information in and agreed to inquire with other hikers and the possible NPS staff at Bearpaw (which houses a backcountry ranger station)

Looking up Mehrten Creek, no longer swift waterfall

We were relieved when we reached Mehrten Creek around lunch time as it looked like a trickle of a stream instead of a swift waterfall crossing.  I think we all exclaimed YES! really loudly in our heads upon seeing it.  Back in 2011, there were 4 creek crossings between Mehrten and Bearpaw of various depth but none as dangerous as the "water slide/edge of cliff pool" of Mehrten during high water.  However, even with the smaller crossings, the water is extremely cold and more accurately described as = ice melt. Depending on how long your feet are in the water, you will often feel a wave of pain and numbness as you leave the water and they are exposed to warmer air.    Additionally, with a very heavy pack on your back so you must also consider depth and chance of falling in and getting your gear wet.  J and I had our rain covers on hand for this purpose (although we did not use them on Day 1) but Meagan did not have one so we had a trash bag on hand to line her pack in case we saw the need. 

K and J with Kaweah range

 I also highly recommend a pair of sandals to have for some crossings where you need decent footing and you cannot get your boots wet.  I did this trip with flip flops (lighter) but Keens would have been much smarter.

We moved quickly on this portion of the trail, eager to get to 9 Mile and Buck Creek as landmarks signaling we were closer to Bearpaw Meadow.

J and M with Kaweah Range in the background

The day was hot and right around the time we got to Buck Creek, we were getting weary. A woman passed us and warned us that it was a brutal climb passed Buck Creek = "you think you are almost there but YOU ARE NOT!" J and I almost always prefer brutal honesty over flowery optimism so this was actually welcome information. She was right. The incline right passed the bridge seemed much more intense in the HOT summer sun. And 40+ lbs. Ugh.

Right before Bearpaw Meadow, the shade of the trees felt welcome and we reminisced about our last hike through that section when it was still covered in snow and we lost the trail, did not have a good map and yet somehow still navigated our way to the High Sierra camp that day.  We seem to have decent instincts with that talent and it would come in handy later in the trip.  Upon arrival, we met up with a NPS staffer to inquire about the ice tunnel. She heard the same rumor and said she'd radio the Ranger to see what advice they had regarding pushing through or going the alternate route.  The advice was not too much different from the hiker we encountered, that it was technical and a risk.  She tried to put a positive spin on it and recommended we could give it a try and we could always just hang around and explore Hamilton and the Bearpaw area for a few days. No lady!  This was not a leisurely jaunt through the High Sierra, we were on a freaking mission!  I didn't even have to ask Julie and Meagan about the prospect of "hanging out" in Hamilton.  Our goal was Whitney and it was clear that the sanest choice (and statistically wise) was to take the alternate route.  A little later we heard another party come in and talk about the "mini glacier" that filled in the ice tunnel, it sounded like they had turned back around that day.  We started laughing at the term "mini glacier" and compared it with the "ice river" description earlier which then made us question what really determines the difference between a mini glacier and micro glacier and what exactly IS an ice river.  Regardless of what it was ... we didn't have the gear for it and our goal was to make it to Whitney and down alive.

M and K after a creek crossing on the way to Bearpaw, drying and warming feet

We weighed our options that night as we laid down to sleep and started looking at the alternative route on the map.  I started making calculations but this route was completely unfamiliar to us and not on the High Sierra trail. It was hard to tell what areas would be difficult. We had no intel on the creek crossings but noticed we'd be passing through Redwood Meadow ranger station and hoped they could give us better info on trail conditions. We were optimistic about taking this route so we could make Whitney but as soon as we started seeing the elevation gain to Pinto Lake and up the pass, a little anxiety set in for me, this may take us longer than we wanted.  We agreed to try to get a decent start the next morning so we could get as far as we could the next day.  Darkness set in early in the meadow and deer were already roaming at dusk. They seemed much bolder and almost stalking us... like a cougar.  We remembered the stories in the Wallace book about deer tearing shirts off people to suck up the salt from their sweat (it's a thing, crazy!) at Hamilton Lake but luckily they were not THAT bold on this evening.  We already surmised bear would be present in the meadow at some point and took care to pack every scented thing in the bear box.  A makeshift pit toilet was available down the trail but the outhouse door would not close easily and when it did, the door would get stuck.  I reasoned that even with an open door, it was the most privacy I would get all trip and a dark outhouse is a miserable experience. ;-)  It was somewhat comforting to have other people around the first night but at the same time, you put quite a bit of trust that they have been diligent in food storage.  Nobody wants to wake up with a bear ripping through their tent or even the tent next to them.  We sent our first SPOT broadcast that night but little did we know, it never went through. This would be an important development since we were changing course. We did not plan for this type of itinerary change and weighed our options. We opted to broadcast every night wherever we camped and not to send a late notice/itinerary change because we were unsure on timing. We thought we might be able to make the time up.  Plus, we did not know about this alternative route when we left our itinerary with our husbands. We had some hope they would consult their maps to see the change.  Once we joined back on the High Sierra trail it would probably bring them some comfort but there was nothing we could do in the interim.
I did not sleep well that night. Maybe it was the bear prospect. Maybe it was the aches and settling in for the first day.  I still had residual thoughts of things I wanted to leave behind but they were starting to dwindle as I focused on the change in the itinerary. Whitney or bust.  In my mind, turning away was not an option if we had any control over the situation and I put my mindset into getting it done.

Post note:
A few days after our trip was over and I returned home, I was researching a noise we heard on Day 2 and discovered that hikers encountered a mountain lion on the trail by 9 Mile trail junction just a few days after us on this exact stretch of trail described here. It gave me pause to think that the mountain lion could have been watching our move through this section and we were completely oblivious. It was also strange that it would be on the more populated portion of the trail but high water years can bring change in wildlife habitat and behavior. I hate to be in judgment but the fact they went forward TOWARDS the animal so quickly after the first sighting, not a good thing. You can tell the mountain lion felt threatened by the stance.  Do not watch if you have an aversion to dangerous wildlife, it may give you nightmares!  
https://ww2.kqed.org/news/2017/08/07/video-sierra-hikers-capture-mountain-lion-encounter/ 

You can read J's version of Day 1 here.

#cougardeer

#bearhuff

#outhousedooropen

#iceflow

#iceriver

#icewall

#icefield

#microglacier

#miniglacier

#nanoglacier

#icetunnelcollapse

#forceofnature

Miles: 11 (mileage estimates vary depending on which map/resource you use, Wallace says 11.5, NPS wooden signs say 10)  I recommend bringing a Fitbit or tracker, which we neglected on this trip.

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
Bears: YES

Privacy: N

High Sierra Trail - Preface and Prep

"In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks. John Muir"

PREFACE: Planning for the High Sierra Trail was 31 years in the making. J and I camped at Sequoia National Park in our formative years, earning our Jr. Ranger badges and our hike to Heather Lake helped solidify the prospect.  Throughout the years we held onto the possibility of taking the High Sierra Trail all the way to Whitney.  In 2011, we took a three-day trip on the first leg of the trail from Crescent Meadow to Bearpaw Meadow (J, M and me).  Our intention was to camp at Bearpaw but it was the end of June in a high water year, which gave us a swift waterfall crossing at Mehrten Creek so we camped there and did a day trip to Bearpaw (sans gear) the next day. That day was 8 creek crossings and snow field at Bearpaw.  Little did we know, the experience would prepare us (somewhat) for what was to come this year.  The High Sierra Trail (HST) is a 72+ mile trail through the most beautiful and most dangerous terrain it has to offer. The last 13 miles mesh with the John Muir Trail (JMT) that ends at the summit of Mt. Whitney (14,505ft asl) Once you finish that, you have to make your way down Whitney (6,000ft in 9 miles) if you are heading out of Portal.  During the journey described in this blog, a French-Canadian couple (whom we met at the HST/JMT junction) inquired about where we came from and remarked with a distinct air of incredulity, "Isn't that the harder trail?"  Indeed it is.  After describing our adventure briefly, she had her answer and seemed grateful that swift creek crossings were not in her future.  This exchange is the inspiration for the name of this blog. 

We decided 2017 would be the year for our HST/Whitney adventure.  Despite the fact I was working through two hip injuries with PT, I met with my physical therapist and worked out a plan to get me to this goal.  Multiple, stressful things were going on in my life at the time but I felt compelled to do this trip.  Actually, the way things fell into place I feel like it was fate for it to happen when it did. J and I were in for sure, one of her sons and her daughter M (who went with us in 2011) were possibilities. We wanted a permit towards the end of July which normally meant calmer rivers and very little snow. J secured our permit as soon as we could apply and we spent the months prior planning things out little by little. Plan & Go: High Sierra Trail (all you need to know to complete California's best-kept secret) by Zebulon Wallace is an excellent book to review for this trip as it covered recommended gear, trail specifics, and very helpful HST tips.  Though I doubt one is able to keep anything a secret in California. J, M and I met up in Mammoth in April to ski (in what turned out to be an enormous blizzard... because we are magnets when it comes to forces of nature) but also spent some time snowed in with our book, my HST Tom Harrison map and a growler of Mammoth Brewing Co. beer. We drafted a tentative itinerary of campsites/pace.  At the time, it felt like a totally realistic plan.  As the dates drew closer, J drafted a menu and I memorialized the itinerary on paper.  We rented a GPS device (SPOT) for safety and to let those closest to us know where we were each night.

The night before was the usual rush to prepare the food and get our gear in order. Our ultimate goal was to minimize the weight.  I was very anxious about the impact of 40+lb on my hip. We found ourselves sorting through our items asking "yes... but how much does this weigh??" For this reason, we repackaged much of the food and even then, could not get all 7 days into the 2 Bear Canisters (luckily, we had had several nights in a row with bear boxes at the camps)  Eventually, we all ended up with 40+lb packs with M's being the heaviest around 42+lb. 

THE DAY BEFORE: Josey (J's dad... nicknamed after our first Sequoia trip together where he kept quoting The Outlaw Josey Wales ) and his wife picked us up VERY EARLY on 7/20 for our trip from the Mojave to Sequoia National Park. We started in Barstow (long story) and I'm pretty sure the German bakery was the highlight because now when I think of the drive up to SEKI, I think of carrot cake. And Dances with Wolves. And Last of the Mohicans. Because when you drive to Sequoia with J, you are going to hear the soundtrack to those two movies.  And you will like it. Actually, you will love it.  And you then will obnoxiously hum either on the trail when you come to an epic mountain range or when you want to forget you are heaving a 40 lb pack up a mountain pass.  Sometimes you might even hallucinate that Daniel Day-Lewis is whispering in your ear... "I will find you." But if that happens, you might want to check yourself for altitude sickness.  

 

As we got closer to SEKI territory I took video clips, with soundtracks blaring in the background. This trek was going to happen and I started feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety.  Our main goal that day was to arrive early enough to talk to someone at the Wilderness desk and check-in to get our permit. Given the warnings J received the week prior when she called the Ranger office (and the what was posted on the website) we wanted to also purchase a detailed map of the Kaweah Gap area, anticipating snowfields. We had our micro-spikes grudgingly packed (heavy).  Sure enough, a 7.5 minute map was recommended on that part of the HST and we warned of 3 potentially "impassable" (his words) creeks: Whitney, Wallace and Wright.  I took notes on my itinerary sheet as he spoke so I'd remember what day we reach them and where on the map.  He advised the Whitney "creek" might even be a 2 mile upstream/uphill hike to get to a safer place because the normal crossing was 8 feet deep.  Some parties turned back around the week prior.

We stopped at the Lodgepole store to get a few last minute items. After the store, J's dad handed us a 10ft rope.  It seems that everyone closest to us that had little to no experience backpacking, thought we needed to carry a rope with us for these creek crossings.  Both our husbands and a few parents (not my dad) suggested it.  I will note for the record that none of our research recommended a rope as essential gear for creek crossings on the HST.  There are good reasons for this: 1. not all creek crossings are near trees or anything remotely stable to tie a rope to (see Mehrten Creek) 2. The water is swift and your attention should be focused on balance. If you are putting all your weight on the rope and the rope gives way, you have fallen in. Your best bet is to have sturdy trekking poles, sure footing and NOT to cross if you are unsure 3. Some creek crossings are 18-20 feet across, carrying a rope to span that size (with room for tie off) will be heavy.  But our husbands and family meant well so when J's dad gave us the rope, we took it.  You will find out in future blog posts how the rope fared.  Meanwhile, it did not stop J from texting me the clip from the Boondock Saints the week prior while the "rope saga" was going on in our households. Still laughing about it.

All 5 of us shared a room at the Wuksachi the night prior in order to start the HST early in the morning. With all our gear secured, we had only one bag for the 3 of us to put in everything we held dear for Josey to take back to J's husband since he was planning to pick us up at Portal.  It was surreal to realize that I only had what I could carry on my back for 7 days to survive, my paper ID and $20.  J started to read from the Kaweah Commonwealth (which has an interesting history) of all the rescues and deaths in the timeframe. Most of the incidents were avoidable/people not prepared but some were legitimate and I wanted to know the circumstances so we'd be prepared. As we all prepared to go bed early, J mentioned how she was in the middle of a John Muir book and perhaps we could read it that night.  Since J was helping M, I read us all a John Muir bedtime story, even the parents. We marveled at his gift of vocabulary, run-on sentences, and imagery. The anxiety of potential dangers started to melt away. It was the perfect way to begin our journey on the High Sierra Trail.

Day 1...

<The end of each blog post is ode to hashtags we came up with while trying to ignore the pain, elements and danger on the trail. Each day has its unique tags. Humor is a great way to get past uncomfortable situations.>

#forceofnature
#johnmuirbedtimestory
#stupidfukinrope
#nodenyingtherope