Monday, August 29, 2016 - Mammoth

After talking to our wives on the phone from our ledge at Bighorn Pass last night,  Craig and I decided sleeping next to them would be preferable to sleeping next to each other. The question was, could we make it to Mammoth, where they were, in a day?

Sally got to Mammoth last night, Sunday night, about 9:30 pm and had to catch the bus back to Yosemite Valley at 8:00 am Tuesday morning. If I was going to get the chance to see her, I would have to get to Mammoth today, Monday. We studied our maps and estimated the distance to Mammoth. We had about 4 miles of cross country work to do. After that we had a mile of trail down Fish Creek until it intersected the John Muir Trail, then six miles of the JMT from Tullys Hole to Duck Lake. Then it got sketchy. We did not have a way of finding the distance from the JMT-Duck Lake intersection to the Duck Lake trailhead. By comparing known distances on the map to this unknown, we figured it to be an additional six to eight miles. Total miles to cover: 16 or 18 miles. No problem! I did 20's two years ago on the PCT, and we just had a zero day the day before yesterday. We can do this!! 

Motivated, we were up at 5:45 am. A hot breakfast of rice, a variety of nuts, milk and nutmeg, courtesy of Dave and we were off. First order of business was a boulder and slab upward traverse of the basin between Buckhorn Pass and Shout of Relief Pass. The guide book said it would take about an hour. We did it in 40 minutes. There was a lot of ups and downs to avoid cliffs and work around other obstacles, but we were now ready to descend from Shout of Relief Pass. There was scree, boulders, slabs, meadows-the usual, and soon we were traversing around the end of the ridge, heading for Izzak Walton Lake. 

At the lake, we decided to take a break and fish. We moved down the side of the lake, south to north, fishing with our packs on. We caught four, placed them in the designated fish bag, and after 45 minutes, began the mile and a half cross country run down to the Fish Lake trail. Our estimate was pretty good, as the GPS clocked us at four miles to the trail. Once on the trail we could move faster and soon hit the JMT. We had a 900' climb out of Tullys Hole up to Virginia Lake over a distance of two miles. We had lunch at Virginia Lake, then continued on. We made the Duck Lake/JMT intersection by 3:00 pm. We climbed up the 300 or so feet to Duck Lake then began the traversing climb up to Duck Pass at the far end of the lake. 

We were getting a little concerned. I was sure we would have cell service during the day due to our proximity to Mammoth Mountain ski resort. Granted, it was only 4 or 5 miles away, the the intervening ridges blocked the signal. I had told Sally we would contact them during the day to let her know if our progress. Here it was 3:30 pm and we had not had signal all day. It made me realize what a fortunate fluke Bighorn Pass really is. 

As soon as we crossed into Duck Pass, at about 4:00 pm, we could see the ski lifts of Mammoth Mountain and our phones lit up with four bars of service. We quickly called Sally and Barb to apprise them of our situation. We didn't know how long the trail from Duck Pass to the trail head was, but we guessed six miles. It was 4:00 pm, so we told them 6:00 pm was a good time to plan on. We figured we would have cell service all the way down the trail and could let them know if our eta changed. We also had the ladies get hotel rooms in Mammoth for the night. I had not had a shower for 18 days and figured Sally might be repulsed by my odor. 

With the cell service I also got a text from Mike Morgan, a friend and fellow teacher (retired like me) of 30+ years. His 39 year son, Jake, and Jake's daughter, Helen, had been at the Lewis County Fair 11 days ago, enjoying a day of play when an unattended horse, harnessed to a carriage, spooked and ran down the midway, trampling Jake and Helen. Both were air lifted to Harbor View Hospital in Seattle and put in Critical Care. This had been eleven days ago. Mike texted me to let me know they were in the hospital with Jake and if I called I could talk to him. I did, and we had a good conversation as I hustled down the trail to my rendezvous with Sally. 

Along the way, we passed a group camping just off the trail. We asked how far it was to the trailhead. They said two miles, a welcome number!  I texted Sally to let her know we would be at the trailhead in 45 minutes. 

Our timing was perfect. They drove into the parking lot just as we exited the trail. We drove to the hotel. Our room was a "PCT" grade $70 room, small, funky and cheap. But, it did have a shower!!  After cleaning up, Sally gave me some of her clothes to wear and we walked down to Craig and Barb's room. I looked ridiculous, and Barb loaned me some of Craig's clean clothes out of their van. 

We walked to dinner at Sloccum's, then retired for the night. It was great to see Sally!! 

Craig and I were right-it was better sleeping next to our wives than each other. 

Sunday, August 28, 2016 - Anniversary Day

Thirty nine years ago today, Sally and I were married. Today, I am in the middle of the Sierra, off trail. Sally is in Yosemite Valley, probably only about 30 or 40 air miles away, but with the intervening terrain, she might as well be on the moon. Since we parted 14 days ago, on August 14, I have had no cell signal, no service. I have not talked to her, or anyone else, nor had news from the outside world. 

In 2010, when we did this route, we were surprised to get cell service on an out of the way, minor pass, in the middle of nowhere called Buckhorn Pass at 11,200'. Seeing as this is our anniversary, I would like to talk to Sally, so Craig and I made Buckhorn Pass our goal for the day. To get there from our zero day camp at Italy Lake, we will have to climb over 12,400' Gabbott Pass, descend the Mills Creek drainage down to Mono Creek at 8400', climb back to 10,200' Laurel Lake then ascend 1000' of near vertical heather fields to the pass. Is she worth it? Absolutely!!  The big question is, was the cell signal six years ago a fluke?  Will it still be there today?

The power of a zero day showed true again. Both Craig and I were revitalized as we left camp at 6:45 am this morning. We motored the two miles and 1200' up to Gabot Pass. We tried for cell service at the pass, hoping the Mammoth Mountain towers would extend this far. No dice. 

The descent from Gabot Pass is typical, steep head wall for a few hundred vertical feet, boulder field for the next couple hundred vertical feet and then scattered meadows with interspersed boulder fields and slabs for the next few hundred vertical feet. This time the drop took us well below tree line, and soon we were fighting willow brush and tree branches. The valley falls steeply from 10,500' to 9,500' as one hanging glacial valley intersects the main channel of another glacial valley. This main valley is called the Second Recess. Quite a few people must travel this route, because we were able to follow "use" trails most of the way. Once on the floor of the Second Recess we picked up the trail and followed it two miles to Mono Creek at elevation 8,400'. From Lake Italy to Mono Creek is about 7 miles. We met a total of eight people on this portion of the day's journey. It was the last people we saw for the day. 

After we found a log on which to cross Mono Creek, we headed up hill and east on the Mono Creek trail for a mile to the Laurel Lake trail. 

The first mile of this trail climbs 1000'. It must have been made before the invention of switchbacks because it went straight up the hill; a very steep route. The nice thing about a trail this steep is you get to the destination, the top, quite quickly. 

Once up the 1000' feet, the trail quickly peters out and we were cross country traveling again. A major avalanche must have occurred in recent years, bowling over trees, creating a pickup sticks scenerio to walk through. We reached the end of the valley where Laurel Lake lies about 3:30 pm. Buckhorn Pass is directly above the lake, a low spot on the side ridge. We knew there would be no water on the ridge, but we wanted to camp up there so we could get cell service for the evening; if it still existed up there. We resolved to cook an early dinner by the lake, go for a swim, then load our water bottles up and head for the ridge top. 

The lake was delightfully not freezing. To say it was warm would be untrue; let's just say it was "refreshing".

After dinner, we worked our way up the 1000' to the ridge top pass. All the way up I was thinking how awesome it will be to talk to Sally, Andy, Jeff, friends and to find out what had been happening in the world. But, I was also preparing myself for the disappointment of arriving at our airy campsite to find "No Service" showing in the upper left corner of my iPhone screen. Another minor concern was the availability of two small, flat places for us to camp. I could not remember the nature of the ridge and whether it has a flat area or only boulder fields. 

We crested the ridge and saw plenty of flat ground to sleep on. We dropped our packs, pulled out our iPhones, switched off airplane mode and waited . . .  Searching . . . Searching. Bingo!! 3 bars of service and 4G data connection too. We looked north toward Mammoth and west toward the Central Valley of California and wondered where this signal came from. Who cares!?!  We have service. Let's call people. 

Bing. Bing. Bing. 120 emails filled my in box. 25 texts show up. 8 voice mails arrive before I can make a call. 

For the next four hours I was on the phone. Craig was more restrained and talked for a couple hours. 

Barb told us Sally was riding the YARTS bus from the Valley to Mammoth Mountain. She was planning to hang with Barb on her days off. I tried calling her multiple times, but I found out later she had switched to Airplane mode to save her battery on the bus ride. She finally called about 9:15 pm and we talked until 10:30 pm, the latest I have stayed up on this trip by at least an hour and a half. 

Between our phone calls, Craig and I found a wide sandy shelf bounded by a cliff on the east side and a thicket of white pines on the west side. It was on the west side of the ridge, the side the cell signal was on. What a luxury!  To lie snuggled in bed at 11,200' on an exposed shelf on an exposed ridge beneath a sky filled with stars and talk to Sally!

When we finally hung up, I began plotting the distance and route to make a dash for Mammoth tomorrow to celebrate our anniversary in person. I figured it to be about 16-18 miles, with the first four miles cross country. A long way, but doable. Glad we took that zero day yesterday. 

Saturday, August 27, 2016 - Zero Day

I'm tired. No trying to hide it. Fatigued. Drained. It's been 13 days of constant motion and I'm pooped. Yesterday, I fell twice. I could blame it on shoes, or slippery rocks, or some other outside influence, but the truth is I was tired and making mistakes. Today is a zero day. I planned to lay on my back here at Italy Lake and watch the day go by, and that is exactly what Craig and I did. 

I'd start out and say we got up and cooked breakfast, but I did not. I rolled over, lit my stove, made oatmeal, ate it, and rolled back on my posterior and lay there. 

Sometime around 10:00am I did drag my sorry butt out of bed, emptied the bigger of the two bear cans I was carrying of its food, filled it with all my clothes, and staggered to the lake shore. There I employed the bear can as a washing machine and washed all my clothes. Craig did the same. Then we erected a clothes line and hung them to dry. Then it was back to my Z-Pad for more zombie time. 

Maybe an hour later, I got up, staggered back to the lake and went for a refreshing swim. The lake was cold, but not shrink all your body parts ice cold. With the sun shining directly down on the tarp, and no shade at treeless 11,200,' it was very warm under the tarp. The swim felt good. That pretty much sums up my activity for the day. Oh!  I did inventory my food and found I had a few extra dinners, so I cooked one for lunch, and then I cooked one for dinner hours later, but in between, I just rested. 

Craig was quite a bit more ambitious. He walked the lake's shoreline, did a little exploring and spent more time out from under the tarp than I did. 

I learned on the PCT two years ago the power of a zero day and how much it can revitalize a person, so I was making the most of this revitalization. I was confident the slothness of today would transform into the energy of tomorrow. 

Friday, August 25, 2016 - Bear Lakes

Pop Tarts for breakfast make for a quick departure. We woke at 6:15 and were walking by 6:45 am. Our first task was to climb thru Fearher Pass, about as perfect a pass as can be imagined. To get to the pass we needed to ascend the slope by the waterfall inlet to Merriam Lake, then traces two basins, one with two small lakes and the other with LaSalle Lake, then gain another 500' as we climb up through the pass. We were in shadow until just a few hundred feet below the pass, making nice, cool walking and climbing. 

At the pass we decided to have second breakfast, this one of scrambled eggs, cheese and tortillas. We found a low wall of granite to hunker down behind, lit a stove and scrambled the powdered egg mix Andy had given to us yesterday afternoon. Stuffed inside a burrito with cheese, nothing better!

We cleaned up our mess and started the descent down the head wall and into Bear Lakes Basin. This basin is amazing for the number of lakes, their positions at various elevations and the surrounding scenery. Plus, they are all named around a bear theme, "Black Bear Lake", "Teddy Bear Lake", "Ursa Lake", "White Bear Lake", "Bear Paw Lake", "Brown Bear Lake" and more. The first lake we ran into after the mile descent from Feather Pass was Bear Paw Lake. We dipped our lines into it, and although we could see fish, they were not interested. From Bear Paw Lake we ascended 400' to nearby Black Bear Lake, stripped down and skinny dipped into its cold water. Then it was up another 180' to White Bear Lake, hanging on the cliffs, tucked in between rock walls. A short distance from White Bear Lake is a very steep 800' descent into Brown Bear and adjoining Teddy Bear lake. This descent is tricky, weaving in between cliffs, across slabs and scree while avoiding thickets of willow, all precariously perched on this long steep slope. We mad a few wrong turns and had to climb back up short distances to find a route, but soon we were down. We stopped by the lakes to eat a snack. We had not eaten since our egg burrito at 9:30 am and it was now nearing 1:00 pm. A pro bar and some almonds were consumed while we discussed our options, either stay here or move forward to halfway down Lake Italy a mile and a half away. With plenty of time left in the day, we kept going a soon were walking the shores of mile and a half long Lake Italy. The lake is at 11,202'. There is no vegetation except low grass and flowers, with an occasional White Bark Pine thrown in. The wind was blowing strongly from the west and the lake runs east-west making it difficult to find a place to camp out of the wind. Also, the north shore we were traversing is rock lined and rises steeply from the waters edge with only a few level places wide enough to afford a place to camp. In spite of the inhospitable terrain, we found a delightful shelf about 20' above the water up against a rock wall and pitched our tarp for the night. First priority is fishing, and although small again, we caught 5 for dinner, two fry pans full.

Tomorrow is a zero day. I can feel the fatigue of 13 days in a row of hiking over this rugged terrain. Today, I fell twice, partly due to the fatigue and partly due to the tread on the soles of my shoes being nearly all worn off. A day of rest won't fix the shoes, (I have a new pair at the next food resupply in Mammoth in five days) but it should revitalize my body. I plan to lay under the tarp all day and rest, eat, watch movies, listen to music and catch up on this blog. Oh, I hope to wash my clothes in the morning, using my bear can as a washing machine and swim in the lake if the clouds stay away. Speaking of weather, we have been in a pattern the last four days of absolutely clear, cloudless mornings, followed by puffy clouds beginning to form about 10:00 am which coalesce into masses of clouds by 2:00 pm that result in nearly complete overcast by 5:00 pm and sometimes rain in the early evenings, or as a few days ago, thunderstorms with lightning, thunder and sheets of rain and hail. What happened to sunny California?

Thursday, August 25, 2016 - Position

We chose our campsite last night based on one object. The only object in the vast area of tundra. A large rock we could hide behind to get out of the wind. There are no trees, one willow shrub and only this rock. When we put our packs in position to help block the wind, it created a nice lee area for us to tuck into and find some comfort. But, this morning that same position turned out to be unique in another way. 

We woke to thick frost on our sleeping bags. We slept out last night, and the stars were glorious, but the temperature was super cold. That combined with moisture in the air and we are iced in. I had put water in my frying pan to use to cook my breakfast, but it had not just iced over. It was frozen solid- about an inch thick. 

Naturally, with a cold morning the first thing you would want is a early sunrise to start warming things up. We are camped in a vast plain-like area, so the sun should reach us much sooner than is we were camped in a steep walled valley, as has been the case on most mornings of this trip. The only thing to the east of us is Mt. Humphrey, a 14,000' peak. But it is  just a tall bump on a very distant long eastern skyline. What are the chances that we are camped in the exact position such that the sun has to rise above the very top of Mt. Humphrey before it can hit us?  Turns out, very high. In fact, we watched every other part of the basin we are in get direct sunlight as we shivered through cooking breakfast and packing before the sun finally peeked out over the top of that peak and gave us it's warmth. Great positioning. 

We headed north toward Puppet Pass, our high point for the day, less than a mile away. We climbed the treeless, rock ridge above Mesa Lake and contoured into the broad pass. Here we stopped to enjoy the view, look across the French Creek valley to Merriam Lake, our next destination, about 5 miles away. 

The descent down the north side of the pass is steep and boulder filled. We picked our way down and were soon standing in the meadows at the base. We walked across the broad plain that contains Alsace Lake, Puppet Lake and a few other lakes, stopping to check the fishing (not good), then dropped off the edge of the lake basin and descended to French Creek where we turned left (west) on the Pine Creek trail. 

We followed the Pine Creek trail about a mile, looking for the unsigned, and little used Merriam Creek trail. On the map, the trail junction is shown just below the 10,000' contour line and where the creek gets very close to the trail. With iPhones in hand watching the altimeter app showing a slowly decreasing altitude as we walked down the trail and watching the creek approach the trail we spied the faint trail taking off the the right. We stopped at the junction for lunch, spreading some of our wet items from last night's frost out to dry. 

The Merriam Lake trail goes straight up the slope, no switchbacks, no apologies. It is steep, but you quickly arrive at the basin that contains the lake. It is still better than a mile through this treed and lush basin up to the lake itself. Once there, we dropped our packs and tried fishing. The fish were small, so we released most we caught. Then we realized we were not going to catch anything big, so we set about catching fish for dinner. By the end of the afternoon we had eight small fish, two fry pans of four fish each. 

As we were setting up to fish, a hiker walked up to us and told us how he had been here 15 years ago, but did not remember much about it, except he had some pictures and was trying to match the scenery to his photos. He shared the photos with us and we found he was standing very near to where they had been taken. 

We introduced ourselves. his name was Andy, from Pennsylvania. He is a high school physics teacher out for a week long hike. He flies home this Sunday and must be at school on Monday. 

Craig and I grabbed our packs, to walk to the other end of the lake to fish and camp as Andy had set his tent up right we had set our packs down. Once at the other end of the lake we found a level place to camp near the inlet. Clouds were forming again this afternoon and the thought of thunderstorms motivated us to put up the tarp. Plus, we hoped the tarp might lessen the frost coating our bags might receive if frost was in the offing. 

While Craig fished this end of the lake to complete our set of eight fish, I slept. Then it occurred to me that we could get word to Barb and Sally that we were a day or so behind our planned schedule if we asked Andy to send a text to each of them when he went out on Saturday. I walked back to the other end of the lake while Craig cleaned the eight fish ( did I get the good end of this deal?) and was able to Airdrop the message we wanted sent to Barb and Sally directly to Andy's iPhone. While there Andy asked if we wanted any of his extra food as he was going out on Saturday and would appreciate not having to carry it. I was delighted to take a large bag of peanut M&Ms, a big of hazel nuts and dried cranberries, a goulash dinner, a bag of powdered eggs and some quick energy packs off his back. 

Back at camp the fish were cleaned, so we had fish and Andy's goulash for dinner, both delicious. 

Dinner done, we called it a night, hoping the tarp would screen out some of the frost. The waterfall above the inlet softly rattled down the rocks as we fell asleep. 

Wednesday, August 24, 2016 - 90%

The atmosphere couldn't get to us with rain or hail, thanks to my sturdy tarp. But she snuck under our shelter as we slept and deposited dew and frost on everything. We woke to a goey mess. The tarp had as much water clinging on the underside as it did on the top side. The nylon of our sleeping bags was very wet, although the down inside stayed fluffy and kept me warm. 

The hail that fell last evening was now a congealed, frozen mass on the ground, and even the tarp had chunks of ice on it. 

Craig got up to eat his breakfast of a Pop Tart, I'm more of a "if you can do it from the comfort of your sleeping bag, do it" kind of guy, so I ate mine in bed and cooked some hot water from my sleeping bag under the tarp. 

We headed north on the John Muir Trail, rounding the end of Evolution Lake and heading toward the point where the trail starts to drop toward Evolution Valley, about a mile and a quarter away. Here we left the trail, knowing we had three miles of traversing through forested terrain, punctuated with granitic bands of cliff, streams and swamps. Our guide book told us the best traversing, that is, the least number of impassable cliff and such, would be found between 10,800' and 11,000'. We were about 200' below these recommended elevations, so we angled upward as we moved forward along the ridge. 

The brush was still wet from the rain and hail of the night before, so before long we were both wet up to mid-thigh.

The bands of bed rock tended to slope downward in our direction of travel, meaning all the benches and shelves we were following kept causing us to lose altitude below our recommended values. 

This meant we had to clamber up steep granite outcrops or wet, brushy inclines to maintain altitude. The guide book says the last mile of the three mile traverse is frought with swampy ground. When we read this we tried to imagine how swamps could cling to very steeply inclined slopes. We found out they can. By the time we finished the traverse our feet were totally soaked, as were our pants, not to mention most of the gear in our packs from the drenching dew from the night before. 

Thankfully, the California sun was shining brightly providing good heat. When we finally cleared the trees and brush and began traversing easterly and upward we 

stopped on an open meadow and laid all our gear and clothing in the hot sun to dry. It looked like a yard sale. 45 minutes later we repacked and continued up the slope toward the scariest part of the high route, Snow Tongue Gap, at 12,176'. 

The climb up the west side is a boulder field, until the last 100' vertical feet, where it changes to steep solid rock. But, foot and handholds are plentiful and it is easily scaled. However, the east side is a near vertical 300' cliff composed of jagged, loose bedrock jutting out of the slope surrounded with loose scree and rocks. 

Before descending this nightmarish slope, we had lunch. I scrambled 50 vertical feet up the ridge to find a better beginning to the descent and soon we were on our way down with full packs, carefully testing each rock before we trusted it with our weight. The rain of the night before had erased any previous parties foot prints, but numerous choices of routes to take presented themselves. About 20 minutes later we were down the worst of it. We were now faced with about a mile and a half of boulder hopping to get out of the Wahoo Lakes basin and out onto Humphrey Basin. It took a good two hours to negotiate the boulder field. In the process, I broke one of my new Black Diamond trekking poles. I was able to cobble it together. A good thing, because I am very dependent on having two poles to take the load off my knees, especially when descending and boulder hopping. 

Once clear of the boulders, we decided to traverse Humphrey Basin, a broad, 2 mile wide area and camp at lower Desolation Lake. I dropped a waypoint on my GPS on my phone on what appeared to be Lower Desolation Lake and we headed out. Within five minutes we came upon a 84 year old man out by himself, walking very slowly cross country. We stopped and talked for ten minutes, finding him very interesting. He was part of Mountain Rescue and had been hiking in the area since the 1950's. We broke away and continued on toward our destination, arriving about 5:00 pm. But, the lake I assigned the waypoint to was Desolation Lake, not the lower one and so we traveled about a mile further than we had planned. 

The lake lives up to its name. There are no trees and only a couple bushes. The wind was blowing steadily, although the sun was still shining. We dropped our packs behind a  3' high boulder, the only one in the desolate plain on the west side of the lake, and went fishing. For an hour's effort, we caught one. Returning to our packs, now about 6:30 pm, we cooked dinner, including the fish, then laid out our ground pads and sleeping bags on the tundra like ground under the clear skies, building a wind block with our packs, and  slipped into our sleeping bags. I had my iPhone playing Nora Jones, and I fell asleep to the music, probably about 8:30 pm. I woke about 12:00 am to find a sky filled with stars and frost all over the outside of my sleeping bag. At 11,400', no moon and no ambient light from nearby cities, the stars were incredible. The milky way spanned across sky. I was warm under my new frost covered quilt, and quickly fell back to sleep. 

Tuesday, August 23, 2016 - Again?

Deja vù all over again. 

In our 2010 Seirra High Route traverse we got our food drop at South Lake, then raced ahead of the gathering thunderstorms to get to camp in Dusy Basin. On our trek up to Muir Pass we got slammed with two thunderstorms and hit with three more after dark. Now, in 2016, history has repeated itself. We raced thunderstorms leaving our food drop. We got hammered with rain as we started towards Muir Pass. 

What is it with thunderstorms, Muir Pass and the SHR?

Dave left me two of his breakfasts to eat on this leg of the high route. They consist of rice, chic seeds, sunflower seeds, dried milk, nutmeg and almond. Super good, and filling. I had it for breakfast this morning. Craig had oatmeal with almonds. We were packed up and on the trail by 7:00 am. 

The sky was perfectly clear-not a cloud. We worked our way up the trail, passing campsite after campsite filled with dripping tent. We met half a dozen  people coming down from camps near the pass. 

We caught up with two gentlemen day hiking up to the pass from their base camp near Big Pete Meadow, where we had camped. About two and a half miles up the trail we stopped for a break and some water where the trail crossed the creek. While there we were passed by the Hong Kong couple with their guide. We got to exchange a few pleasantries, then they were off. They carried only very light day packs. We followed behind. It became apparent that the husband rode a desk all day and was woefully underprepared for this hike, while his wife, a thin, athletic looking woman was doing fine. The longer we followed them the more apparent it became that the husband, although trim looking, was really struggling with the altitude and the uphill, while his wife seemed to be handling it nicely. We surmised that she is a trophy wife that stays home and works out everyday and runs marathons while he is chained to his desk and career 70 hours a week and has no time for conditioning. I bet this hike was her idea. 

We stopped for a break at the outlet of Helen Lake at about 11,400'. When we continued on, we find them a few hundred yards in front of us. I wanted to be at the pad at the same time they were to chat them up a bit and get their story. We arrived and they were still there. We got to talk to them and their guide, a woman of about 30. We enjoyed the conversation. He seemed very nice, she a little distant and the guide very fun. They soon left, hoping to get to their next camp, being carried in by porters over LaMarc Pass to Darwin Bench. 

Craig and I pulled wet items from our pack to dry in the hot sun at the pass while we ate lunch and chatted with people at the pass.

Once finished with my Ritz Crackers and cheese, dried apricots and beef jerky our items were dry. We packed them away and headed down the trail. We covered another 5.5 miles as we watched the sky slowly darken with threatening clouds. At Evolution  Lake ducked off the trail and pitched our tarp below a large rock outcrop that shielded is from the JMT just as the rain started to fall. It was 2:00 pm. At 3:30 pm the skies opened up, sending sheets of hail, rain, lightning and thunder. It lasted about 45 minutes. 

Taking advantage of the lull, we cooked dinner and ate outside, fished in Evolution Lake. We returned to our tent in a light rain that turned into a violent thunderstorm. In other words: we got thrashed again. Tucked I our sleeping bags, we listened as the pounding rain and hail slowly tapered off and stopped altogether. 

When does the sunny California return??

Monday, August 22, 2016 - Rain

It took a few years of coming to the Sierra to recondition myself to its weather patterns after a life time of trying to divine Washington mountain weather. California mountain weather could not be more different than Washington mountain weather. It is sunny all the time in California. If it does rain, it comes in the afternoon as a thunderstorm, announcing  its intentions long before the rain comes by building gigantic castles of clouds in the sky, massive thunderheads. Every morning the sky is clear. If puffy clouds start appearing by 10:00 am, then it is quite certain it will be raining between 3:00 pm and 4:00 pm. If the puffies don't start showing until noon or 1:00 pm, no chance of rain. The clouds don't have time to build into thunderheads. 

This morning we awoke at 6:00 am to cloudy skies!  This is unheard of!  If the weather held true to its patterns, it should be raining by noon. 

We ate a breakfast of the remainder of the monkey bread from Shatz bakery and hot tea, packed up the tent and gear and headed for Knapsack Pass, leaving camp about 7:00 am. We stopped to fish the lake from its north shore, but didn't get a bite. 

Our route led us over Knapsack Pass and down to the small but picturesque lakes of Dusy Basin, 700' below. Obtaining Knapsack Pass is a little tricky. It is steep and is a combination of loose boulders and rock and granite slabs. We negotiated the obstacles and were soon descending the north side toward Dusy Basin. The clouds were letting the sun peek through for most of the descent to Dusy Basin, but they sealed the sky shut after that. 

Barrett Lake is at 11,500' as is Knapsack Pass. Our destination was  down to the Middle Fork of the Kings River at 8700', before beginning our climb to Muir Pass. This 2700' descent occurred in two phases, about 750' was lost from Knapsack Pass to Dusy basin while traveling cross country, then the remaining 1950' while hiking down the Bishop Pass trail to its intersection with the John Muir Trail. It took us until about 11:00 am to descend to the JMT intersection. We headed north on the JMT, the sky already booming with thunder and flashing with lightning. My goal was to get us to the campsites of Big Pete Meadow before the rain, now visible up the valley, worked its way down to us. We hoofed it as fast as we could, passing up dry campsites at Little Pete Meadow in hopes of gaining another mile and a half today meaning less climbing tomorrow. 

We didn't make it. 

It started raining in earnest while we were still 0.4 mile from our destination. We put on our raincoats and packs covers and scurried on. We reached a flat piece of ground and quickly erected our tarp. Once under it, we arranged our sleeping situations, climbed in our sleeping bags, and each took a three hour nap. 

When we were pitching the tent we noticed a use trail going off toward the river, but in our haste to get out of the rain, neither of us explored where it went. As we were waking from our naps, we noticed people going in and out on that trail. We later discovered that the guided couple from Hong Kong had their encampment there.  People were coming in and out. Our tarp was like having a ghetto just outside their "glamping" area. 

The rain quit about 3:30 pm. We got out from under the tent to attend to business and get a little charging with the solar panel done now that the clouds had thinned and a little sunlight was coming through. 

In the evening, as we lay in our sleeping bags under our tarp, we recognized Barb, from the day before, exiting along the trail. We caught her attention and chatted with her a few minutes. She said they had fresh chicken, asparagus and other delicacies for dinner, and a camp fire and their clients would be hiking toward Muir Pass at 7:00 am. 

Now 7:30 pm, we rolled over to sleep. 

Sunday, August 21, 2016 - Resupply

Noah had been reluctant to get out of bed numerous mornings during the trip. Not today. We had decided last night to get up at 6:00 am and be on the trail by 7:00 am. We all decided not to eat breakfast because Barb was bringing Schat's cherry turnovers to the resupply and we wanted room to stuff ourselves with pasties rather than eat oatmeal or granola. Noah was up at 6:00 am sharp, packed and ready to go by 6:20 am. By the time we got the tent packed and other preparations completed, we were on the trail at 6:30 am. We only had 4 miles to walk, and our inspired pace got us to the trail head at South Lake at 7:45 am. Barb and Craig were not expected until 10:00 am. We busied ourselves with getting the garbage out of our packs, then set up the solar charger and lay in the grass in the shade waiting for them to arrive. They did at 9:15 am. 

News of Ed and Sally were top priorities. Ed had returned home after a difficult exit from Horseshoe Lake with Craig. Craig said Ed was employing OxyContin on the 5500' descent down to Road's End to control the pain in his knee and only had about five to ten degrees of motion. 

The brakes on the van were making a horrible racket for Sally as she entered the Valley after driving back from Road's End where she dropped us off. She took it to the shop in the Valley. One of the front brakes had lost its pad and the metal backing was pressing directly on the disc, making a horrible noise and scoring the disc. Why does the van always act up for Sally when I am not around?

The worst was when I heard about Jake and Helen getting trampled by a spooked horse at the fair. I can't imagine the grief and sorrow that Di and Mike are suffering through! I know there is little I could do if I was at home, but I wish I could be there to support them. 

Barb surprised me with the news that she and Craig had forgotten my food resupply box in Sally's camp. I thought she was kidding, but they did actually forget all my food for the next ten days on the route. However, they had all Craig's food for the remainder of the route, so I was able to put together breakfasts, lunches and dinners for ten days, plus snacks. 

Barb had deli fixings for sandwiches. We ate lunch, then with clouds again building, Craig and I said goodbye to Barb, Dave and Noah and headed back up the trail toward Bishop Pass. 

We set a steady pace up the trail, encountering many people going in and coming out on this busy August Sunday. 

A woman named Barb caught up with us and passed us, packing a heavy load. We kept up with her after we passed and talked for ten or fifteen minutes while walking. She was freighting food and supplies into the LeConte area for two clients, a businessman and his wife from Hong Kong that were hiking the North Lake - South Lake loop. These two required nine support personnel from Bishop Mountaineering to bring in fresh food, tents and other gear for them each night. Barb was one of four carrying in asparagus, fresh chicken, and other delicacies for tomorrow night's meals. She pulled off the trail to let her other porters catch up with her, and we kept going. As we started up the final stretch to the pass the rain started to lightly fall. We put on rain coats and covered our packs, but it did not last long. 

When we got to the pass we had two options we were considering. One was to just begin the descent down the trail toward the JMT 3200' and 6 miles away, or to return through Thunderbolt Pass to Barrett Lake so Craig could have the opportunity to fish the lake he had missed by walking out with Ed earlier in the week. The weather in the direction of Thunderbolt Pass looked the least threatening, so we decided to try for it. Climbing over a 12,300' pass in a lightening storm is never a good idea, but  we thought maybe we could slip through it before the lightning to the west moved to our location. I retraced my steps of the day before, using the GPS on my phone to follow closely our successful track. About a third of a mile and 300' below the pass it started to rain. We stopped and put up my tarp on the face of the mountain, securing it to the rocks and cliff nearby. We quickly put on warm clothes, then sat under the tarp, dry for the moment and had a bite to eat and rested. The rain quit after about half an hour, so we disassembled our shelter, packed up, and continued our climb to the pass. We cleared the pass about 5:30 pm, then began the 900' descent to Barrett Lake. We arrived about 6:30 pm only to discover someone camped right on the shore at our fishing spot. We dropped our packs in the meadow and fished for an hour with little success. Craig had moved down the shore quite a ways. It was beginning to get dark and the sky was threatening again, so I grabbed my pack and headed around the lake to the south to find a snug place for a camp. At 11,500', there is only boulders, granite slabs and patches of soil, but I found a cozy spot and began pitching our tarp. Craig return with a nice 15" fat trout. While he cleaned the fish I got camp erected. By headlamp, under our tarp, we fried the fish for dinner and enjoyed a Schats Monkey Bread pastry for dinner while the rain fell all around. A quick cleanup and food secured in bear cans and we were soon asleep.

For me it was a 12 mile day with lots of elevation gain and loss. But, I was glad to get Craig to Barrett Lake for its large fish. 

Saturday, August 20, 2106 - Thunderbolt Pass

There are two ways out of Barrett Lake if your destination is South Lake. You can traverse northwest out of the basin and find your way up and through Knapsack Pass at 11,500'. Or, you climb 900' up out of the basin in a northeasterly direction and go through Thunderbolt Pass at 12,300'. Either way, the intermediate destination is Bishop Pass at 12,000' to the northeast of Barrett Lake. In 2010, we chose to follow the SHR description and go through Knapsack Pass. Besides, who wouldn't want to go through a pass named "Knapsack"?  However , we found the subsequent climb up to Bishop Pass from Knapsack Pass was drought with willow, granitic bands and other obstacles that made the climb up to it very difficult. We chose it also because we were not sure if the pass we now know as "Thunderbolt" even existed, and we did not want to climb 900' only to have to descend it and go through Knapsack Pass. 

Well, six years have passed, and with those years a little more knowledge gained. We learned of Thunderbolt Pass and that it is really no different than any  of the high passes in the Sierra. This time we decided to leave Barrett Lake via Thunderbolt Pass. 

Dave, Noah and I got up about 6:30 am, a little later than normal, but we did not have far to go. We fried up our fish caught the night before, coated with milk and then crushed Ritz Crackers. It was delicious, and filling. Fried in olive oil, meal was deep fried Ritz and fish. 

We headed up, directly out of camp and in 25 minutes had climbed the 900' to the level of the pass. It took us half an hour to negotiate the boulder fields in our traverse to the pass. It was beautiful. It is situated right at the base of the walls of the 14,000' palisades with sweeping views to the northwest and southwest. With a little studying of the distant peaks to the southwest we picked out distant Goat Crest Saddle, the second pass we crossed, on day two. We enjoyed the view and the rest for 

Our descent was across a boulder field (surprise!) then across slabs of granite (surprise!) and through meadows to Bishop Pass. Although we were 300' above Bishop Pass, we would have to drop at least 300' below the pass due to obstacles (ridges, cliffs) before climbing back up to it. 

We made our way over to A small lake just short of Bishop Pass and took shelter from the wind behind a small knoll and had lunch. Then it was off to the pass and down the trail off the pass to saddle rock lake and a camping site for the night. 

I washed my clothes in my now nearly empty bear can and swam in the lake to clean off. The campsite was super dusty dirt, so I found a little hollow in the trees that had a nice pine needle duff carpet to sleep on. Dave and Noah slept on the dirt and were filthy long before they ever fell asleep. 

The clouds had been building all day, and about 5:00 pm it started to sprinkle. Only a dozen drops fell, but it was enough for us to hide our gear in the dirt and dust under the tent before it quit. The skies stayed somewhat cloudy, so I arranged all my gear for wet, spin could quickly move them from my nook in the woods into the tent quickly if it started to rain after dark. I took solace in the old saying "It never rains in the Sierra at night", hoping it would hold true this night. It did.