Day 58-61: Granite and Pines

June 1-4; Mile 702-767

Day 58

Finja, Nicole, and I hauled our packs to the general store porch and used the hanging scale to weigh them. Without water mine was just under 30 pounds – pretty good considering the gear I’d added and the seven day food carry.

We left Kennedy Meadows just after seven and walked back to the trail. Three other hikers were right ahead of us: Blues Clues, Snowshoe, and Sailor. We all posed for pictures before striding off through the fields of green.

The trail followed a flat basin full of sand and stubby bushes before coming to the campground where a PCTA volunteer was checking permits. He gave some info about snow levels (very low) and water crossings (not difficult due to the lack of snow), before announcing that we’d officially left the desert behind and were headed into an area rife with granite, starlight, and alpenglow.

I shuffled up the trail, my pack weighing me down now that I had to walk uphill. The trail led through pine forest with a gurgling stream alongside, and I basked in the stripes of shade cast by the towering trees.

Nicole surged ahead while Finja and I leapfrogged up the trail. I made couscous for lunch – one of my backcountry staples – before passing out of the pine forest and into a meadow. There was a thin ribbon of water meandering through the flat area, and the trail switchbacked downward until it came to a footbridge. There I found a horde of hikers filtering water, lying in the shade, and watching the starlings dart under the bridge to their nests.

It seemed that everyone was aiming for the same camp spot in 4 miles, and so Nicole, Finja, and I ended up camping after 2.5 miles in a nice shaded pine grove. It felt good to have a group to hike with again, and we sat around cooking dinner together and discussing our plans for resupplying and climbing Whitney. We were all in our tents before 8; the trail habits came back quickly after a stay in town.

Day 59

When my alarm went off I groggily rolled over and snuggled deeper into my sleeping bag. A challenging day lay ahead, and I wanted just a few more minutes of comfort before facing it. I packed up, taking out the day’s food from my bear can and then hauling my bag onto my back. The trail led upward from the start, and it took a while for my muscles to wake up.

We came to a little stream after a few miles and filled up our water bottles. Despite the promises of abundant water in the Sierras, the creeks were all dry, and we faced a nine mile carry followed by a twelve mile stretch without water. But, for the moment I was just happy to watch the marmots scamper across the rocks and listen to a grouse whomping nearby. It felt like I was back in Washington.

The trail wound through sparse pine forest where the ground was bare rock. Towers of granite boulders lined the trail like sentinel towers. We climbed above 10,000’ before reaching a nice downhill stretch. I’d caught up to Nicole by that point, and the two of us flew down the trail – at least it felt so in comparison to our glacial uphill pace.

We reached the water source: a stagnant pool with an amber tint. I was still waiting for the sparkling lakes and crystal clear streams I’d heard all about. But this was all we had for the next twelve miles, so I filled up 3 liters and groaned under the weight as the trail began another relentless climb.

Higher up on the ridge I had my first views to the east. The mountain cascaded downward in a jagged wall of rock, and far below the land was flat and covered in white – was it a lower cloud layer? Death Valley? My brain pondered slowly in the thin air.

I reached camp around 6 and found Nicole in her tent. We’d hiked over 18 miles with heavy packs and lots of elevation change; I devoured my dinner in a matter of minutes. Finja arrived a while later, and I chatted with her while she made dinner. Tomorrow we’d see the first alpine lake of the PCT.

Day 60

I awoke with a jolt since the sun was already up. The trail started out with a gradual downhill, a nice change from yesterday morning’s climb. I made good time, passing several other hikers who were still asleep or packing up. The views started to open up to valleys with meadows far below as I neared Mulkey Pass and Trail Pass, two options for getting to Lone Pine. I was glad I’d carried enough food that I could make it to Kearsarge Pass, instead of needing to get off trail twice.

I filled up at the tiny trickling water source from Poison Meadow Spring. Combined with yesterday’s water from Death Canyon Creek, I wondered if all the happy names had been used up in the northern part of the Sierras.

The path continued past meadows and pine trees interspersed with granite boulders. After four miles I finally reached the cirque containing our first alpine lake of the trail: Chicken Spring Lake. I spent two and a half hours enjoying the scenery, soaking my feet, and eating.

I hadn’t seen Finja since the morning, and so I hung out with a group of hikers I’d leapfrogged with the past few days: Tour Guide, Frisky, Woods, Icky, and Four Million Pounds. A few of them were bemoaning their lack of food due to the size constraints of the bear can.

Finja caught up right before I was planning to leave, and we confirmed our planned camp spot. Then I headed off for one more short climb before entering Sequoia National Park. Jagged peaks with an alarmingly small amount of snow (especially since I was carrying an ice axe) dominated the horizon. To the other side was a towering wall of granite, and the trail wrapped around until it reached a long, flat saddle. I found a good spot to set up camp and made dinner. There was a small clearing with views toward a range of knife-edge peaks. We were truly in the Sierras now.

Day 61

Finja and I crossed Rock Creek early the next morning. As we walked through the forest, the trees cast long shadows in the early morning light, and I spotted a deer bedded down up on a hill.

The trail wound through beautiful grassy meadows with views toward soaring peaks all day. Each new summit had me wondering, “Is that Mt. Whitney?”

I came to Crabtree Meadows and followed the river toward the ranger station. Hikers who planned to summit Mt. Whitney as a side trip were setting up their tents already though it was only the early afternoon. I set up next to Snowshoe, Sailor, and Blues Clues. The first two were planning to wake up around the same time I was: midnight. We all hoped to be at the summit for sunrise.

Finja arrived soon after, and we ate an early dinner before retreating into our tents. It was barely 4, but I tried to sleep anyway. I had an early morning ahead of me.