Wednesday, November 15, 2017

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


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