Dwarfs - Sunday, June 8

Since reading Lord of the Rings multiple times back in the early 70's I have enjoyed the idea of mine digging, rock tunneling, cave dwelling dwarves. My imagination of what these Tolkien inhabitants of middle earth could accomplish was undernourished. I imagined primitive rock caves, dripping wet, dark and dank devoid of art and style. Not until Peter Jackson brought the Great Hall in the mines of Moria to the screen did I begin to picture the grandeur these rock dwelling masters could create.

We have rock carving masters in the modern human world as well. When we look at the sculptures adorning the great cathedrals of Europe we see the inspiration for the dwarf work featured in fantasy books. We have rock artisans in the US as well, especially in the Sierra. As I hike the PCT I see the evidence of modern day dwarf work. Trails carved from rock cliffs, rock steps carved from living stove, rock paved stretches of trail like cobble stone streets of Europe and masterfully built stone walls supporting sections of the trail on cliffs make up long sections of the trail as it winds over passes and across cliff faces. Magnificent and inspired work.

Today we passed over Forester Pass, the highest pass on the entire length of the PCT at 13,200 feet. Approaching the pass from the south there is no sign of where the trail is. All one sees is a huge rock cliff blocking the end of the long U-shaped valley. At the top of the cliff is a small snow choked notch, certainly not what one would call a pass. Following the trail it begins to mount the wall and is soon clinging to and winding up the face, a vertical wall on the uphill side of the trail and a vertical cliff on the airy downhill side. It brings three questions to mind, (1) who conceived of the idea that a trail could be constructed up this cliff face, (2) who approved the construction and (3) who actually hung from ropes while blasting rock and constructing walls of stone to support the trail. Whoever they are, there is dwarf ancestry in their bloodlines.

We slept in a bit this morning as we needed to let the snow soften slightly under the morning sun before we ventured onto it. By 8 we had packed up and were moving across the same snow as last night although this time we walked on the frozen surface rather than sinking past our knees as we did last night. The trail approached the headwall, then began switchbacking up the lower portions. These areas had large sections of snow across the trail and occasional water ice that had frozen during the night. As the cliff face got steeper the snow disappeared and the trail began to be constructed by building walls of rock on the face or blasting a level spot out of the cliff. We moved slowly up the trail. The elevation made the air thin, causing us to stop to catch our breath. The snow in the notch had melted back just enough to expose the trail and we were soon at the pass.

The views both north and south are stunning. Butterfingers was already in the gap and Hopscotch soon joined us. After clowning around for 45 minutes we started our descent of the north side. It was all snow, but many hikers had come before us so a trail of sorts had been etched in the snow. I put crampons on Sally's shoes to increase her traction and we started our descent. We had to cross a few rock ribs sticking out of the snow. We post holed as we got near, the hot sun had softened the snow near the rocks.

Lower down the trail was still covered with snow, so rather than try to follow it we stayed on rock ribs until the trail finally became snow free.

We had hoped to make it to Bullfrog Lake, a distance of 11 mikes for the day, but as the day wore on we could see it was not worth the effort to make that distance. We had made arrangements with the Mt. Williams Motel manager, Strider, to pick us up at the trailhead at Onion Valley at 10:30 the following morning, but we could see we were not going to make it. We stopped in the tall timber and meadow grasses of Vidette Meadows (9400') for the night. In the morning we would climb the 1200' to Bullfrog Lake, then the additional 1000' to best Kearsarge Pass followed by the 4 mile 2000' drop into Onion Valley. We would not make it until mid to late afternoon. We hated to break our commitment, but we had warned Strider on the phone that
we might not be there if it proved too far a distance and climb.

We relished the sound of Bubbs Creek rushing nearby, the shade and majesty of the tall trees, the meadow grasses and the solitude. We had the place to ourselves. We had left behind the stone work of the dwarves high in the mountain pass and were enjoying the soft green shades of the woodland world, the home of the elves.