PCT In Photos: Week 1

I’ve whittled the 1000 photos down to 72, so it’s time to start sharing them. Week 1 seems like a good place to start.

It’s a poor excuse for a start photo, but we forgot to take one, so this is the closest thing we have. This is exactly where our walk started, in a mesh-sided tent, in the garden of the Sauffley’s house in Agua Dulce.

I’ve included this one purely because it’s the only photo where I look clean! This was only a few hours into day 1:

Still on Day 1, after our first climb we look back and can clearly see where we’ve come from. This was the first hint of the way that the trail hugs the hills and follows every little inlet around. It was also our first (tiny) taste of the PCT’s switchbacks.

It was a lot greener, and the greenery a lot taller, than I had expected. In some places (not here!) the trail was quite overgrown:

 

I love the colour of these trees!

The bonus of getting up at 3am and being walking at 4 was that we got to witness a lot of sunrises from up high. I took lots of sunrise photos, but in the absence of a tripod (or a very steady hand) most of them are rather blurred:

Collecting water! This is the water source, on Day 3, from which I carried my biggest load of 5-litres of water. The corrugated roof carried rain water to a gutter on the far end, which ran down a drainpipe which you can just see in the middle, which deposited the rain water into an underground tank. Once you’ve brushed the dead, rotting leaves to the sides to reveal the water (no dead chipmunks we could see in this one!) the water was nice and clear – but it did get chemicals and filter treatment before we drank it.

On Day 4 we found ourselves looking down on the plain of the Mojave Desert. When we got down there and walked across it we found that it wasn’t quite as flat as it looks from a distance:

The evening of Day 4 was cloudy, as was the morning of Day 5 when we woke up on the Mojave plain (the only two really cloudy periods the whole time we were on the trail). The cloud was quite localised (we walked out from under it within about an hour) and to the south the hills were glowing an attractive red in the sunrise.

Windfarms! We saw the hugest windfarms! We walked for 5 miles through this one (which hasn’t yet been commissioned), but this was a tiddler compared to the one we walked through on our way to the town of Mojave.

It was properly desert surroundings now too. No sign of all that greenness of a few days before (although this day was the first day that we saw running water, in the shape of a lovely little stream).

As we descended down to the road to Tehachapi/Mojave (walking through a burn area – you can see some of the burnt trees on the right of the picture), there was a green meadow below us. It looked rather out of place, but it turned out that there’s a river down there (not much water in it, mind).

 

Click here for ‘PCT in Photos Week 2’.

PCT: The Size of the ‘Herd’

Conrad is doing a good job of giving me subjects to write about! In his last comment he asked “about frequency of meeting others, and whether you thought the trail was overpopulated or not”.

I don’t like to feel like I’m walking in a long line of people. I also don’t like the game of constant leap-frog that tends to occur on over-populated trails. Equally (or, perhaps, perversely) I’m quite fond of having a sociable time on a walk (not usually walking with other people, but having others to talk to either in passing, or at rest stops), so it’s a delicate balancing act of finding a route that’s sociable, without it being overcrowded. As it goes, our routes are usually so under-crowded that there’s no social side at all!

In opting to go and walk a chunk of the PCT at exactly the time when the ‘herd’ of thru-hikers would be passing through, I did give thought as to how that would tie in with my ideals of having a sociable time, without feeling hemmed in by other people, but didn’t really know how often and how many people we would encounter.

Depending on which reports you trust, somewhere between 900 and 1300 people were issued with permits by the PCT Association this year, which will include both thru-hikers and people section-hiking 500 miles or more. Of course, some of those people, for one reason or another, won’t have even made it to the start line. Rumour has it that as many as 40% of people drop out of the walk before Agua Dulce (450 miles in), where we started.

So, there were likely somewhere between 500 and 800 people on the trail when we joined and although the peak of the ‘herd’ had passed through by the time we started, we were definitely in still well within ‘thru-hiker season’ (there were over 30 people in Agua Dulce the night we were there).

Perhaps a better indication of the number of people on the trail were the trail registers which appeared often during the desert section. Usually when we found a register, between one and two dozen people had signed the previous day.

Mick scrutinises the trail register just before Kennedy Meadow. Most of the trail registers are contained in metal, hinged-lidded boxes atop a metal pole, like this one.

Yet, because of the different hiking habits of individuals (people couldn’t believe that we were setting out at 4am; we couldn’t understand how some people never got out of camp before 9am), and the way we were all spread out due to the number of options for campsites, only on a small handful of days did we see anywhere near that number of people.

Mainly when we did see people it was at water sources, which were natural gathering places. Sometimes we passed people who were having a break, and sometimes we passed people who were camped (either in the evening or at early in the morning). I can only think of a couple of occasions when we overtook someone, although there were a few occasions when we were overtaken. Only twice did we walk a few miles with someone else.

A great bunch of people! This was the second day after Kennedy Meadows, when we were still bunched up. There were a few more people behind me and thus out of shot.

All of those times were good opportunities for a chat (plus there were all the hikers coming the other way once we got into the High Sierra; oddly we only once met some non-PCT hikers in the desert, and even they were out trying to meet a PCTer), but as soon as we were out walking again we were by ourselves.

Some days, even when trail registers told us there were plenty of other people around, we didn’t see anyone at all.

There were a few exceptions to the solitude. There was a big bunching of people who left Kennedy Meadows on the same morning, and for the next few days we had more people encounters, and more leap-frogging, than before, but by three days out we had all spread out again. Likewise, we met a lot of people when we left the trail to go into Independence, but in that case they were all heading in the opposite direction (so on the way into town we gleaned their top tips on where to go, and on the way out we imparted our knowledge).

So (to answer your question, Conrad), it didn’t feel over-populated at all, but we still had the opportunity of conversation most days; it was definitely on the right side of the balance for us. Whether it will remain that way is in question. According to the trail angel who gave us a lift from the train station to Agua Dulce, there was a book in the best seller list last year about a woman who ‘found herself’ on the PCT and it is feared that there will be a sudden rush of people on the trail next year. However, it will take quite a lot more people before it starts to feel as crowded as the West Highland Way!

How Hard?

In a comment on the previous post, Conrad said: “I am sure you were aware of the strenuous nature of this walk, but was it harder than you thought it would be?”, and I thought it was a question that deserved more than a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer (although if you don’t fancy reading my analysis below the short answer is ‘yes’).

I find that when sitting in my armchair with my laptop on my lap, looking at maps, distances, ascent and itinerary, it’s very easy to think “that’ll be hard, but it’ll be okay'” without putting too much more thought into it. We had no doubt that the section of the PCT was going to be a challenge, both logistically and physically, but we probably didn’t think about the difficulty in much detail, and the reality was that it was harder than expected (and we had it really easy this year, with no snow worth mentioning and low water levels).

As I mentioned briefly in one of my blog posts, the trail itself is easy. On the section we walked there was no navigation required (which saves a huge amount of time), the trail was usually (although not universally) an easy walking surface and the gradient was never steep (except that very last descent to Lyell Canyon). So, if you were to take away the external factors then it would be very quick and easy walking.

A few things combined to make it hard:

1) The temperature. The hottest days were (of course) in the desert, where we had it in the mid-thirties day after day, but even in the mountains it wasn’t unusual for it to be in the mid-to-high twenties. Sometimes we had shade and sometimes there was a breeze and when the two combined it was bliss, but sometimes there was absolutely no shade and no breeze. Even on a gentle slope, slogging continuously uphill for eight miles in the sunshine with those temperatures is hard work!

2) The weight. As I said in the last post, when we left Kennedy Meadows my pack was 34lb/15kg. That probably wasn’t the heaviest I carried as at the end of day 4 (albeit only for a few miles) I had 5 days of food and 5 litres of water on-board, and in the desert it wasn’t uncommon for me to have 4 litres of water. The point here is that even with a modest base-weight (mine was under 7 kilos, although in retrospect, in this year’s conditions, I could easily have gone lighter), the distance between re-supply and the lack of reliable water sources in the desert meant that our packs were almost always significantly heavier than we would carry in this country. At least I could always tell myself that every time I ate or drank, it would get lighter.

3) The altitude. I had appreciated that it would be hot and had appreciated that my bag would be heavy and knew, to an extent, that those factors would make things more difficult. What I hadn’t really thought about was how the altitude would affect us. As it happens, we got off lightly in terms of altitude symptoms (I had a headache for half a day, and spent a day feeling knackered, although both of those symptoms could have been unrelated to the elevation), but we both felt the altitude in terms of effort. We huffed and puffed up those gentle inclines with our respiration rates at all-time highs. Trying to drink and walk at the same time was folly. Trying to drink as soon as you stopped also resulted in comedy gasping. Add in a heavy pack and high temperatures and those climbs were far more difficult than they looked on paper!

4) The lack of water in the desert. Or more precisely, the constant need to think about water (so a mental difficulty rather than a physical one, as (arguably) are most of these points). Except for a couple of occasions when I miscalculated, we always had enough water to drink freely, but the water report became our bible. There was the constant need to know where the next likely water source would be, where the next reliable water source would be, how much would be needed to get there, how far that meant we needed to walk that day, and where would be a good place to camp in view of the water sources available that day and the next.

5) The relentless ups and down in the High Sierra. We’re used to doing a couple of hard days of walking followed by some easier terrain. The passage through the Sierra goes over high passes so regularly that the easy (recovery) days don’t crop up (unless you do really short days, in which case you need to carry more food, in which case your pack’s heavier…), and there isn’t the option of taking a low-level alternative route. That much daily ascent, carrying that weight, at that altitude was tiring (although possibly more of a mental issue than a real physical one).

6) The jetlag! Admittedly this factor only applied in the first week, but I had completely underestimated how difficult it would be to deal with jetlag and the resultant lack of sleep whilst walking reasonable distances each day. The 4am starts offset this a little, but in the ideal world we would have had a few more days of acclimatisation before we set out.

 

All of that may sound negative, which isn’t my intention because the whole experience was undoubtedly positive and hugely enjoyable (even if not always fun at the time!). Hundreds of people through-hike the PCT every year, so unarguably doable, even with the altitude, heavy pack, lack of water and continuous lumps – but it’s certainly not a stroll in the park!

Day 16 - Random Thoughts

A bit of a delayed post here! I wrote this one on 16 June (when we were in the prolonged period without a phone signal) and only just realised that I never posted it.

1) One thing that we've heard a lot today is "It's *so* heavy!". We couldn't resist weighing our packs before we left Kennedy Meadows. Mine was 34lb, Mick's 36lb. That was with six days' food and a couple of litres of water (the first litre of which was drunk in the first few miles). Most people have been on a mission to eat lots of heavy stuff today.

2) It also struck me today that there are few situations, when on a six-day backpack, where I'd be prepared to carry a seat weighing a kilo. Admittedly I'm not carrying a bear canister for the primary purpose of using it for a seat, but it does double nicely for that purpose.

3) I think our acclimatisation to the heat is coming on nicely. Sitting in the shade at lunchtime today, with a good breeze blowing, I had to put my fleece on. My thermometer read 24 degrees!

4) It should be renamed the Cascadia Trail for this season! Over 50% of the people we've met (and Mick's in the club too) are wearing Brookes Cascadia shoes. As I walk behind Mick, I'm following a trail which is a mass of Cascadia footprints (they've got a very distinctive tread). Someone said to me last week that they can always tell when we're just ahead of them as my shoes (Inov8 Terrocs) stand out in the sea of Cascadia prints. I may have to try a pair myself; that many people can't be wrong, and Mick certainly rates them.

5) Big trees! We've seen today the biggest trees we've ever seen in our lives! Mick called me over as he was collecting water this evening just to show me one, and he was quite right to - it was enormous.

6) My soundtrack of the last couple of days has been a cricket-sounding insect. Mick's days have been a bit quieter. It's a very high pitched crickety thing, and outside of Mick's range (I can hear those 'mosquito' deterents they put to stop youths gathering, which are supposed to be inaudible to adults too).

Sent using BlackBerry® from Orange

A Video Snippet

I took quite a few video snippets whilst we were on the PCT (twenty, actually, although 2 were accidental!). They’re all of exceptionally poor quality, mainly because of the quality of the videographer and partly because of the quality of the camera when in movie mode. In particular, it was only when I replayed them when I got home that I found that when in movie mode, if you zoom in the camera doesn’t autofocus.

Notwithstanding the poor quality (it really doesn’t do the surroundings justice!), I’m going to share one of the snippets, taken on our way up to Forester Pass. I may share more, if anyone’s interested?

I am still intending to post some photos too. Having finally decided that doing one photo post for each day of the walk would make me a holiday-photo-bore, I thought I’d try to cut it down to ‘the walk in 50 photos’. That may have been a little ambitious. I’ve got my 800 photos down to 84 so far, and haven’t looked at Mick’s. I’ll hopefully be back in a few days with something…

Sorting Through The Photos

I’m sorting through the PCT photos and will post some soon (I need to be more ruthless with the sorting first; I fear that I could become a holiday-photo bore here!). Here are just a couple few as a taster:
My favourite day in the desert. You can’t possibly get a feel for it from a photo, but it was an area of gentle lumps and bumps. It was also an area with almost no shade, and on a day when I had grossly under-calculated our water requirement. We walked fast to make sure we finished the uphill bits before the day got too silly-hot, and were saved by a nice breeze.

And here’s one, chosen completely at random (I’ve got so many from this area!), from the High Sierra. We were just on our way to Pinchot Pass, wondering whether we were going to go for a “2 pass day” (we didn’t, we stopped short of Mather Pass):

And here’s another High Sierra one, but with some water in it:

Oh, just one more! There’s a bear in the middle of this shot; the only bear we saw on the whole walk (we both saw it, but were a third of a mile away from each other at the time, as I’d sent Mick off-trail to collect water):

(you can click on it for a bigger version)

Home time

The time has come to say farewell to the States and journey home.

It's four days since we finished the walk and food has been a major feature of those days (and ice-cream, which I'm not sure qualifies as 'food'). I'm sure that I've put back on every single one of the pounds that I lost whilst we were walking, so I'll have to remember not to eat like we're walking 20 miles per day once we get home. Mick still has a way to go, in the weight-gain stakes, to get back to his normal size.

News on the face is that I'm sporting two bruises which are enough to make people look twice but not enough to make people stare (except for the woman on the 'tube' who could take her eyes off me - probably thought my husband had beaten me up!). They don't hurt now, except when I accidentally hit myself around the face. I seem to have done that a lot over the last few days, so can only assume that it's a regular feature of life that I don't notice in the absence of bruises!

Things on the agenda once we get home are to download the photos (I took just under 800 (on one battery!) Mick just over 300), sort through and share the pick of them, and to give some thoughts on the walk and on the top-favourite bits of gear.

But for now we need to find our way to the airport and see about leaving this sunny place. I'm sure that not long after arriving back in the UK we will experience our first rain in 7 weeks (maybe we'll even use the waterproofs we've carried, redundantly, for 500 miles).

Ooops!

I managed to walk 500 miles through desert and mountains, often over uneven terrain, without falling over once.

Within five minutes of getting off the train in San Francisco, walking down a perfectly smooth pavement, I tripped over a kerb and after a few comedy staggering steps trying to right myself, down I went.

My chin took the impact. My cheek took the friction as I continued forward. Happily (if there could be any happiness in such a situation) I had my backpack on, and thus had a first aid kit at hand. As I sat dripping blood all down my (clean!) clothes and over the pavement, Mick pulled out the butterfly stitches, mopped up the blood and patched me back together.

We continued on our journey to our motel (I insisted on walking; it took a while) but when we got there I was still dripping blood, from behind the butterfly stitches, over the clothes that I really had thought would stay clean for more than half a day now that we're out of the wilds. A taxi was called and off to the hospital we went.

It was far from an emergency, but where else do you go (moreover on a public holiday) to get wounds closed up? And so we got to experience an emergency room.

It was super-fast and efficient and within half an hour I had been checked in, looked at and glued back together. Mick's handy work with the butterfly stitches was praised.

The cut looks quite pathetic now that it's closed. As for the graze on the cheek: "some women pay a lot of money for dermabrasion like that" said Mick!

Day 33 - Mission Accomplished!

Day 33 - Mile 926 to Mile 941
Tuesday 3 July (0600-1310)
Distance: PCT 15 miles; non-PCT: 1 mile
Weather: hot in the Lyell Canyon, even hotter in Yosemite Valley, and
silly-hot in Merced, even at 9pm

That we were both just clipping our hipbelts closed at smack on 6am
this morning was nothing short of a miracle. I'd managed a whole hour
of sleep last night before I was woken by a massive headache and I
spent much of the rest of the night listening to my audiobook and
tossing and turning. Mick managed to sleep through some of my tossing,
turning and grumbling, and may also have slept through when I nipped
out to use the en-suite, if I hadn't caught him a glancing blow with
my elbow on the way back in - oops!

In the absence of painkillers (being in potential problem-bear country
now, even the first aid kit was locked up in the bear canister and I
couldn't quite be moved to go in the dark to retrieve some) I did
finally get a little bit of sleep and, of course, was fast asleep at
5am when the alarm went off.

Having decided (but not conveyed) that my preference was to stay very
still until I felt better, I switched the alarm off and carried on
sleeping. Through Mick's packing away activities I slept, until I was
rudely awoken with the news that it was my turn to pack. No sympathy
for my malady was forthcoming, although a few minutes later some
painkillers were passed to me through the smallest possible opening of
the tent door (even at 0530 the mossies were desperate to get into the
tent). By noon I was feeling reasonably human too ... but in the
meantime, we had 16 miles to walk.

Mick had decided that his preference was to finish the walk and get
the bus to Merced in the same day. With a parcel to pick up at
Tuolumne (our posted-ahead Microspikes - glad we believed the reports
and didn't carry them!) and the only bus leaving at quarter past 2,
that gave us a bit of a tight schedule, even with a 6am start.

The first 3.5 miles were up to our final pass of the trip - Donahue
Pass at 11050' - and those miles didn't disappoint in giving us a
reminder of everything we've seen throughout the Sierra. There were
jagged ridges, a meadow, pretty lakes, marmots galore, patches of snow
and some waterfalls. Plus, of course, there was a complete surprise as
to the location of the actual pass. I nearly cracked and looked at the
map to find out where that trail was taking us, but exercised
restraint so that the element of surprise was maintained :-)

After breakfast atop the pass, a descent was inevitable. This wasn't
the gentle, meandering sort of descent to which we have become
accustomed. It was the biggest knee-killer of a descent of the whole
trip. It did, however, serve to deposit us at the valley bottom which
is where we were to stay.

Many flat and (compared to the previous two weeks) unremarkable miles
followed, during which the number of people coming towards us
increased - a sure sign that we were getting near to civilisation - or
at least to a car park. I got quite excited when we passed our first
day walkers (we were also quite pleased finally to see some pack
horses after seeing so much evidence of them; Mick was suspecting that
someone was walking the trail with a big bag of horse poo which they
scattered at random).

At 1310 we arrived at a paved road (Hwy 120 to be precise). Quite
remarkably, that was the first time the PCT had hit a paved road in
235 miles (our last on-trail road crossing was just after we left
Kennedy Meadows on 16 June). Can you imagine walking that far in the
UK without encountering a road?! (And when I say 'encountering', we've
not even seen a road from the PCT in that time; the only roads seen
have been as a result of side-trips made for the purpose of resupply.)

In keeping with our customary forgetfulness, having achieved what we
set out to do (save for the 22 miles we skipped) and walked from Agua
Dulce to Tuolumne, we failed to take an 'end' photo in the same way
that we failed to take a 'start' photo.

Our first priorites on hitting the store were to retrieve our parcel
from the PO and to buy cold pop, and then we got completely distracted
by all of the PCTers we knew, gathered around some picnic tables. Much
chatting was had (and we finally met the chap who woke up a few weeks
back, whilst cowboy camping, to find a bear sniffing his face!) until
the bus arrived.

With hugs and well wishes all around we left all of the people we've
come vaguely to know, in most cases with no way of now finding out how
the rest of their hikes will go (including: Knees, Cowboy, Shivers and
Bam, Mellow Yellow and Virgo - sadly we didn't get to see Cactus and
Xtra Credit, Pantalunacy or Waffles, and Sprinkles, Shepherd and
Strider were well ahead of us, but we did say goodbye to Orney in
Mammoth).

Two hours later, the bus deposited us in the jaw-dropping Yosemite
Valley, and within the half hour we were on our way to Merced.

A total of almost 5 hours was spent on busses before we arrived in
Merced - half the length of our flight back to Heathrow - and we still
have another 4 hours of travel to reach San Francisco tomorrow. It's
all part of the adventure, though!

As Merced hadn't featured in our original plan as a night-stop, I
hadn't done my customary research, so it took us a while to sort out
getting to a motel for the night (with it approaching 8pm and having
skipped lunch, we could have done with being a bit more organised!).
We're now ensconced in the Motel 6 (the equivalent of what a
Travelodge is in the UK: cheap and basic, but you know what you're
getting), and a huge meal has been had in the diner across the road.

We'll no doubt be back there for a huge breakfast before we get the
train to San Francisco tomorrow. It's still 3 days before we fly home
- at this rate we will have regained all of the lost weight before we
leave!

So, another trip finished. I'll post some photos, more thoughts and
some kit reviews when I'm back on my own sofa with a proper-size
keyboard to hand.

days 30 and 31

I'm a bit out of order heere! Day 30 can be found between days 1c and
20. There was no post onm Day 31 because we didn't do anything (other
than eat, eat and eat some more).

Excuse typos in this post. I'm using webmailto post these posts and
due to a fault I can't see what I'm typing (or in most cases, copying
and pasting)!

Day 32

the Devil's Postpile and Mile 909 to Mile 926
Monday 2 July (0850-1800)
Distance: PCT: 17 miles; non-PCT: 1 mile
Weather: some cloud. For the first time since the morning of Day 5,
the sun was obscured by a cloud today, albeit only for a few minutes.
As I type, there's a big grey cloud to the south of us.

It would have been all too easy to keep spending 'just one more night'
in Mammoth, eating huge portions of food and generally lazing around.
A positive decision had to be made and my vote was that I wanted to
finish the walk - even if we were going to miss out a few miles.

So, the alarm went off at 6 this morning and by 7.30 the strewn kit
had all been packed and we were striding up the road to 'The Village'
to catch the shuttle bus to Red's Meadow.

The decision to get off at Devil's Postpile was a spur of the moment
one. Most of the bus full of tourists had alighted when I decided that
we would too. It had been recommended to us weeks ago that we take the
detour to see it and it suddenly seemed sensible to do so from the
nearest shuttle stop. What I didn't realise at the time (but had no
problem with) was that so doing cut another mile off our day when
compared to our intended re-start point of Red's Meadow.

The Devil's Postpile is indeed a marvel (and a National Monument) -
it's a 60 foot-high wall of hexagonal columns of basalt formed by
volcanic deposits later scoured by a glacier. As marvellous as it was,
it didn't take long to look at it, so soon we were walking back
towards the PCT, which we joined at mile 909 - some 14 miles from
where we left it on Saturday morning.

The first few miles were fairly unremarkable. People have been talking
about the blow-downs in this area for weeks (mainly because they
blocked the trail and stopped the road from Red's Meadow to town from
opening) and the descriptions had been quite consistent that there
were entire hillsides of trees completely felled. It all happened in a
single storm which blew through on 30 November last year bringing
winds blowing 90 and gusting to nearly 200mph.

There were a lot of trees down (fortunately all cleared from the path
in this section), and some of them were very big and very old (400
years, the bus driver said) but in terms of concentrated numbers of
trees, I've seen worse devastation in Scottish forests. The difference
here is the huge area affected.

Having cleared the forest, we found ourselves traversing a hillside,
the remarkable thing being that our side of the valley was very green,
whereas the other side was volcanic rock which was bare save for the
smattering of trees which had somehow managed to take root. The JMT
and the PCT take different routes at this point, with the JMT going
over that bare hillside, whereas the PCT just looks at it.

Cruelly, after lunch (it was as we stopped for lunch that the sun
disappeared behind a cloud for a few minutes) the trail led us
downhill. Cruel, as we were headed up to a pass at the time and
downhill didn't seem an appropriate direction to achieve that. Worse,
at one point a long switch-back took us directly away from the pass.

We did eventually make the pass, but our ascent wasn't over (and it
was a hot day for ascending today) as we still had one more pass to go
(just 600' of ascent with barely any descent, so nothing too
alarming). On the way there was Thousand Island Lake, which did indeed
sport lots of islands and quite a few PCTers gathered on its shore.

We went on another 3 miles, clearing the pass and descending down to
the multiple strands of a river, where we found a pitch.

The pitch seemed okay until we were about to start eating dinner, when
it became a mossie-fest. We resorted to pacing whilst eating. Whilst
cleaning my teeth, I had to run in circles. At least now we are
ensconsed within the mossie-proof tent - hoping we don't have to
venture back outside until the cool of night has made them go back to
their hiding places.

They'll hopefully still be lying low when we get up early in the
morning for our final 16 miles into Tuolumne. Just one more high pass
(11000' - but we're already at 9700') stands between us and our
destination.

Day 29

Mile 878.8 to Mile 893.5
Friday 29 June (0930-1800)
Distance: PCT: 14.7; non-PCT: 1.5
Number of blow-down obstacles requiring clambering, diversion or both: 19

Bastards! Malicious little bastards! Thank goodness that this is a
low-mosquito year, because the little bastards are driving us mad
enough as it is. We're sporting quite a collection of bites.

The VVR side of Lake Thomas Edison was pretty well mossie free, but
within paces of stepping off the ferry we were doing the mossie dance
again.

Today they were just about manageable as long as we kept moving. And,
as the ferry had dictated a far later start than is our custom, we had
another reason to keep moving. We must have achieved one of our lowest
faff-per-mile rates and save for a few snack breaks and one aqua-faff
(when we both ran out of water simultaneously) we just kept plodding
on.

I can't claim that we marched today as so much of it was uphill. 3200'
up from the ferry, then another 1200' later on. Fortunately energy was
high after all the good food we ate at VVR (huge breakfasts featured
before the ferry this morning and last night's dinner was far and away
the best meal I've had this trip).

At the start of the steep bit of the second climb, a huge bang was
heard. With the hills hereabouts being crumbling granite, we assume
that it was a big lump of rock giving way, over in the next valley.

Not long afterwards we came to evidence of a previous huge
landslip/rock fall. Not far away from the path was a massive
rubble/boulder heap that looked like it had been put there by an
over-sized dumper truck, but it was evident from the hillside opposite
that at somepoint half of the hill had fallen away. Bet that one made
one heck of a noise when it went - not to mention some significant
vibration.

We didn't have much further to go after that. Having decided that
there was little value in walking all the way to the Duck Lake trail
today (we would have arrived late and we're not going to get into
Mammoth until tomorrow anyway), we thought we'd find a pitch somewhere
by Purple Lake (which isn't noticeably purple).

Blow-downs have been an inconvenient feature of the day, and there are
plenty around the lake too, which made finding a pitch more tricky. We
settled for something in the end, as we didn't really want to walk
another 2 miles (which is where the map suggests the next campable
land is to be found). It's surprising that there are no obvious
used-before pitches here, considering that there are now 7 other
people staying here tonight.

The group that arrived after us (who kept half of VVR awake last night
as they made their way through a case of beer by the campfire until
well past midnight) have not only created themselves some pitches, but
have also built a fire-ring about 20 yards away from our pitch. Call
me grumpy, but as we were here first, and as they've built it so
close, it would have been nice if they'd asked if we minded!

Day 28

Day 28 - mile 873.5 to mile 878.8
Thursday 28 June (0500-0740)
Distance: PCT miles: 5.3; non-PCT miles: 1.5
Number of fun ferry rides enjoyed: 1

When we've backpacked in Britain, the things that we've missed after a
few weeks are water on tap and hot water via the convenience of a
kettle.

This trip what I've missed most is any semblance of cleanliness.
Showering opportunities seem to come along every 100 miles or so and
inbetween times the dirt is phenomenal. Even when I manage to get the
worst of the caking off my hands (either by way of wet wipes or at
streams) within minutes they're filthy again - and neither method of
cleaning is effective under the nails.

As I type this, I have clean nails and barely any evidence of caked on
grime. It took the washing of the socks and four washes of my hair to
get the nails clean. Clean hair! I keep forgetting how minging I look
and smell, but it does feel nice to have clean hair!

As for today's walk: not wanting to chance slow terrain and cutting it
fine for the ferry, we set out at first light. Hello Kitty, who had
camped by us last night set out ten minutes before us. We soon caught
up with him and chatting away we stormed on good terrain to the ferry
landing. Arriving with two hours to spare it was clear that we could
have stayed in bed a bit longer, but we took the opportunity, whilst
we were waiting, to have our first on-trail cup of tea of the trip.

Thanks to some information gleaned from Back Rasher, our plans have
changed again. We're not going to have two neroes at VVR as planned.
We're now going to leave tomorrow morning and take the Duck Trail to
Mammoth Lakes in 18 miles time. We'll arrive there on Saturday morning
and will spend at least one night. Whether we then walk the final 30
miles to Tuolumne, or whether we call it a day and take a bit of a
holiday remains to be seen.

day 27

Mile 856 to Mile 873.5
Wednesday 27 June (0715-1400; 1530-1715)
Distance: 17.5 miles
Number of food fantasy incidents: 9

Within yards of leaving our campsite this morning, we left Kings
Canyon National Park (no apostrophe, apparently). That seemed odd, as
I'm sure we've been in that park for ages, and yet left it within a
few miles of entering Kings Canyon.

We soon veered away from the Canyon ourselves, as we started our long
ascent up to Selden Pass - which is only 11000', but today we'd
started at 8000', so the lack of height didn't give us much advantage.

The initial climb through forest was unremarkable save for the size of
some of the trees, and the ease of passage along a nice smooth dirt
path. Having been spoilt by the scenery of the last few days, it was
all a bit ordinary.

Spectacularity (what do you mean that's not a word?!) was reinstated
as we reached some lakes below the pass, one of which (imaginatively
called 'Heart Lake'), was heart shaped.

We were in no rush, but I had it in mind that I'd like to be at the
top of the pass by noon. Even so, with 500' of ascent left (and still
a good mile of trail), I had to call an unscheduled snack break. I'm
not sure if it was the food fantasies causing the hunger or vice
versa, but I was so hungry that I doubted that I would make the pass
if I didn't eat.

That was the point at which we decided that we would be able to make
the morning ferry tomorrow, and hence we finally felt able to dig into
tomorrow's food.

The lakes coming down the other side of the pass we stunning, but all
too soon we were beyond them and descending into a mossie-fest. People
coming the other way were walking in their head-nets (as continued to
be the case all day), and we were being bothered even on the move.

They reached their peak in the area just after we crossed Bear Creek,
which is the joint contender (along with yesterday's Evolution Creek)
for the title of 'most difficult ford'. Once again, we didn't
experience the chest-high, fast moving conditions. I took the stepping
stones, and didn't go in above my ankle bone. Mick took the deep route
and didn't get wet above his knees. And so the filthy trousers remain
filthy.

With lunchtime upon us and the mossies continuing to be a nightmare, I
did something I had hoped not to have to do. We've carried
top-strength DEET with us since Kennedy Meadows, but until now I've
preferred to do a lot of swatting and put up with the handful of
bites. Today there was no question. As soon as my pack was off my back
I dived in for that double-bagged bottle (nasty stuff is DEET), and
after a few squirts it was like a miracle. The mossies hated me!

We put the tent up anyway, so that they weren't even flying around us
as we ate, and a decent lunchbreak was had.

Over lunch the map was considered. We had wanted to walk on to mile
875 or 876 today, which would set us up nicely for the ferry at 9.30
tomorrow morning (the turn is at 878.8 and it's a 1.5 mile side-trail
to the landing). However, the lie of the land beyond the campsite at
873.5 didn't suggest that there would be flat spots available until
the ferry turn, and I didn't fancy a day that long. So we resigned
ourselves to a short afternoon and an early start in the morning.

When we started climbing steeply (or at least the trail started gently
climbing a steep slope) just about the time and altitude when we
expected to find the campsite, we began to fear that we must have
overshot. Continuing upwards we thought that if it didn't show itself
in the next couple of minutes then we would be walking to the ferry
turn after all. Neither of us was that bothered at the prospect, other
than at the thought of it being too late to have a proper meal once we
got there. It wasn't to be; a couple of switch-backs later a flat spot
appeared with the tell-tale fire-ring and a small stream running past.

It wasn't until I moved a way away from the tent to cook tea that I
had to have another rant. Just up hill from the creek there's a tree
behind which there are several piles of toilet paper, some sticking
out from rocks, some out in the open. What are the ignorami thinking?
Do they not realise that they're polluting the very water sources from
which they're drinking? I hope that they come down with a nasty case
of Giardiasis, each and every one of them (and equally, I hope that
our filter is doing its job effectively).

Day 26

Day 26 - mile 833.5 to mile 856
Distance: 22.5 miles
Number of jammed hipbelt incidents: 1
Number of times the trail was temporarily misplaced: 2 (3 times total
in 26 days)

For once we had a day that was easier than it looked on paper (even if
we did triple our number of trail-loss incidents). Plus we both had
plenty of energy. It was a good combination.

The first 5 miles of the day took us 3.75 hours, which, perhaps,
didn't bode well for a long day, but they had been up to the top of
Muir Pass (which I think is the last 12000' pass of the trip, although
we've still got a few, slightly lower, ones to go) and those miles did
include quite a few faffs.

Having attained the top of the pass, where sits the John Muir Hut
(built in 1930 and an impressive structure), the next 19 miles were to
be either flat or downhill (okay, there were a few ups, but they were
short and insignificant). I've learnt over the last week that downhill
and flat doesn't necessarily mean that the miles are any faster than
on the uphills.

Today, however, we were surprised and with the ability to stride out,
the miles passed quickly. In the next 4 hours we covered 10 miles.

It was three miles into the afternoon that Evolution Creek needed to
be crossed, which is reputed to be one of the two most difficult
crossings on the trail. Even though we have had multiple creek
crossings every day, and ordinarily at this time of year we should be
wading, until Evolution Creek we hadn't even got our feet wet.
Apparently Evolution Creek is always fast flowing and can come up to
waist high on an average person. Today it came up to mid-shin at the
deepest point and even though it was quite wide, the crossing wasn't
long enough to get the bottom of my trousers clean (they're quite
filthy - I've spilt just about everything over them in the last couple
of days).

Not long after that crossing, Evolution Creek went crashing down a
series of steps and falls into King's Canyon, which is where we were
headed too. How to get down to the bottom of a canyon when the side is
so steep that the water falls and tumbles down? Of course, the trail
planners had found a way and at 1730 we arrived in a forest at the
bottom of the canyon, where it was (pleasantly) cool and dark as the
sun was already too low to reach there.

We only had a couple of miles to go - or so we thought. Alas, when we
got to our intended campsite, the two fishermen in residence made it
clear that we weren't welcome to use the one remaining pitch. Not
wanting to stay where we weren't welcome, we resigned ourselves to
another mile and a half.

As annoyed as I was at the lack of friendly reception, we kept in mind
that it was a mile and a half off tomorrow. It was an added bonus to
reach the campsite and find it much nicer than the one we had had to
pass up. Plus, it was so big that even when Lush and Man Party came
along, they were barely within sight and if Mick hadn't pointed them
out, I wouldn't have noticed their presence.

As for the hipbelt buckle jamming incident: when we got to the top of
Muir Pass (which unlike all the previous sharp ridges, is a long
pass), Mick found he couldn't undo his hipbelt. A bit of grit was
jammed in it, preventing the tab from being pushed in. A few minutes
of trying to release it were followed by Mick having to step out of
it, and for a while it looked like he might be stepping in and out of
it for the rest of the trip. Happily, after much furtling around with
a pin, I got the offending grit to move to the position it must have
been in when he closed it and functionality was restored.

The trail-loss incidents: even without paying much attention, it's
pretty difficult to lose the path, yet today we lost it twice in the
space of 2 miles. The first time we crossed a stream which must
usually be difficult to cross, as lots of paths led up its bank. We
crossed it in the obvious place, but then couldn't find the path on
the other side. After a bit of head-scratching, it turned out it was 5
yards behind us and that we'd crossed it without noticing. A little
further on it disappeared again just after a bouldery area. Some
scanning around revealed a duck (two or three stone stacked on a
boulder, so it's just enough to look unnatural, but not as imposing as
a cairn). Heading straight for it, we did indeed pick up the trail
again the other side, but I've no idea where it went in between times.

Day 25

Mile 814 to Mile 833.5
Monday 25 June (0640-1700)
Distance: 19.5 miles
Weather: a fluffy white cloud was sighted, but it was a long way to the south
Number of JMT backpackers seen with a full-size garden deckchair
strapped to their pack: 1

The wind picked up in the night and it fair whistled through the tent.
Admittedly, we could have put the sides down, but it's so nice, when
waking in the night, to be able to see the stars and the mountains,
that I'll take a bit of a cool wind blowing through.

It was cool too; shortly after setting off we were walking on a frozen
trail, although once the day warmed up it did it with a vengeance and
by 3pm it was 30 degrees out - which made the late afternoon climb a
bit of a warm affair. But, I'm jumping ahead of myself...

It was a day of four parts really. The first was the up and over of
Mather Pass and as these passes go it was quite a friendly one, as we
only dropped 2000' from the previous pass and made up 1000' of that
last night. We didn't have to play 'spot the pass' either as it was
quite obvious, as we approached, where we were going. Or so we
thought, until our progress brought another contender into view. The
path then headed dead in between them, until I spotted the tell-tale
signs that we were headed to the first one we'd seen.

Our zig-zagging ascent through the scree and boulder fields felt a
little more perilous today, as the path was littered with detritus
that had slipped down the slope - some of that detritus being the size
of a fridge!

Coming down the other side we met a woman ascending with a full-sized
deckchair strapped to her pack. We couldn't let it go without a
mention and she explained that she considered the weight worth it to
not have to sit on the ground with the ants. It wasn't even a quick
weekend trip she was on either - she was walking the whole of the John
Muir Trail (which shares the route with the PCT from Tuolumne to Mt
Whitney).

That lady was the first of two people to mention the 'Golden
Staircase' to us. We wondered, but didn't ask, on the basis that it
was an upcoming feature and it would surely become obvious to us when
we got there.

And that was the second part of the day. Having walked past some more
stunning lakes the river dropped down into a canyon (and even I would
classify this one as a canyon, rather than just a valley), and we had
to drop down too.

Down a stoney, steeply stepped path we went with switchback after
switchback, with none of the straight sections being long. As
impressive as the path was, it felt never ending at times and the
walking surface was nothing short of horrible. My assumptions as to
the speed we would make on today's 10 miles of downhill were once
again proved false as it was impossible to get into any sort of a
stride down there. The surroundings were, however, stunning.

The same couldn't be said for part 3, where we entered a burnt area of
forest (and old burn, with lots of new trees having sprung up). For a
few minutes we were able to stride out. Then we started finding
blow-downs across the path. Over, under or around we had to go (yes
Vic, just like going on a bear hunt!), once again meaning that a good
rhythm couldn't be found. Good practice for what is to come, mind, as
we know that a storm last November took out an entire forest in the
area of Red's Meadow (where we'll be on the weekend) and the
path-clearing operation there is still ongoing.

Then came part 4 of the day, and what a picture postcard delight it
was. Lush green meadows with the river running through (even saw ducks
at one point - didn't expect that at 9000'!), with the usual stunning
towering peaks beyond.

I'm not sure whether it was the improvement in underfoot conditions,
the boost from lunch or the superb surroundings which gave me my
second wind, but suddenly I had the energy I had been lacking earlier.
By late morning I couldn't see how I could possibly walk today's
objective of 21 miles and was convinced we were going to revert to the
plan that would see us catching the evening ferry to VVR on Thursday.
By late afternoon I was happy to do the extra miles and extra ascent.
By then, however, Mick had it in his mind that we were going to stop
sooner, and when we found a good campspot at mile 833.5 there was no
argument that we should take it.

We're pitched next to a rushing river. There have been some stunning
water falls, slides and chutes today which make Cauldron Snout look
like a trickling tap (if you're not familiar with Cauldron Snout then
I'm sure there must be some footage on You Tube of it in fine flow).
There are also some fine swimming holes around, and at some points
during this hot afternoon I could have been persuaded to take a dip in
one of them. Alas, by the time we pitched it had cooled down a bit too
much to tempt me.

Our other neighbours for the night are some deer. We've been seeing
quite a few deer for a week or so now and they all share the same
trait of being happy to come within 10 yards of you, where they'll
happily graze whilst you sit there. The one that appeared next to me
whilst I was cooking tea didn't half make me jump, though!

Day 24

Mile 800 to mile 814
Sunday 24 June (0645-1555)
Distance: 14 miles
Ascent: 5500'
Weather: still windy in places, but hot (except for first thing when
it was just 6 degrees)

I'm sitting about 100' away from our tent at our night stop, after a
day that was pretty hard for a 14-miler, and cannot believe the
surroundings. Across the valley from where I'm sitting there's a peak
peeking out from behind two others. Most of the hills hereabouts are
white or light grey, but this one is white up to a certain level then,
in almost a perfect straight line, it becomes deep red. The red lasts
up to a certain level, with just two sharp points standing beyond
that, which are white. It's an impressive sight, but then this has
been a day of 'ooohs'.

After tackling the big, wobbly suspension bridge this morning (not as
bad as I'd expected with a pack on and walking poles in one hand), up
the river we went. It wasn't just any old river though, as it was one
big waterslide after another. Later in the morning it became one
waterfall after another; none big, but still a sight to be seen with
the water being so clear.

Our entire morning was uphill, gaining 3500' over the course of seven
miles, taking us up to Pinchot Pass at just over 12000'. It was hard
work getting up there but the views back to a series of high lakes
distracted us, as did the daily game of 'spot the pass'. Today's had
us guessing for quite a while. We'd narrowed it down to one of two
places, then just as the path had us thinking it was heading towards
the gap between a big red hill (a single red hill in a sea of white
ones) and the big white one next door, it veered off the other way.

The path kept the actual pass hidden until we were bit a matter of
metres away from it, when suddenly a turn showed that we were
surprisingly close. That was a pleasant surprise as we thought we
still had a couple of hundred feet of ascent to go.

We tarried on the top for about 45 minutes, which was a bit longer
than intended, but along came Caveman and Virgo after we'd been there
about 20 minutes. After a bit of chat, we were ready to move, but
Virgo begged us to stay as he started whipping out camera equipment.
It turns out that he's making a documentary about Trail Angels and
wanted to interview us. Mick volunteered me, so sitting on a rock at
12178', I was asked whether the trail was tough.

My answer? The trail itself, if you take away external factors, is
easy. There is no navigation required, the surface is usually good and
the gradients gentle. Take away the altitude and the heavy packs and
it wouldn't be difficult at all. What made it difficult in the desert
was the heat, the lack of water and the heavy packs. What makes it
difficult here is the altitude and the heavy packs.

I don't think there's any doubt that this is the most demanding walk
we've done - but I was proud of Mick for making it to the top today
without a single utterance of "this is hard!" (a phrase that featured
a lot yesterday).

The rest of the day, per the plan, was downhill, past yet more
gorgeous lakes and pointy hills. Of course, we don't always stick to
our plan and we had been wavering as to whether to make this a
two-pass day. That would not only make tomorrow relatively easy, but
it would also almost guarantee that we would get to VVR on Thursday
morning, giving us two neroes.

The final decision was that we would walk just 2 extra miles today,
taking us back up to 11000' and placing us under 3 miles from the top
of Mather Pass. Tomorrow we'll have a longer day (but with far less
ascent), positioning ourselves for the next major pass on Tuesday.
That's the plan, anyway...

V

Day 23

Mile 789 to mile 800 (plus the Kearsarge Trail)
Saturday 23 June (0630-1630)
Distance: PCT: 11 miles; non-PCT: 4.75 miles
Weather: still constant blue skies, but a ridge of low pressure to the
west of us has brought lower temperatures and blustery winds
Number of non-PCT backpackers seen: 18
Number of north-bound PCT backpackers met heading south: 2

When we headed out to town two days ago, the trail seemed to go on
forever as it weaved its way down the hill. Today I was a big fan of
that trail, as it wound its way oh-so gently back up to the pass.

Time was spent chatting on the other side of the pass as that was
where, one-by-one, we kept meeting people we knew, just on their way
to town to resupply. We passed on what knowledge we had gleaned, and
then we were by ourselves for the rest of the day - except for all the
other backpackers beyond Glen Pass. It's a popular area and we've been
seeing a few non-PCTers for a few days, but today there were lots of
people around.

Having come down from our first pass of the day and rejoined the PCT,
we had before us one of the steepest ascents of the section, up to
Glen Pass, where we had been warned there was snow lying. Another game
of 'spot the pass' ensued as we climbed our way into a steep-sided
bowl and couldn't see how the trail could scale any of the scree
slopes surrounding it. Then I caught sight of a bit of path (these
pass paths are perfectly visible from above as you see switch-back
after switch-back below you, but invisible from below) and couldn't
believe where it was taking us. Zigging and zagging, up the steep
scree slope we went, popping out onto a magnificently jagged stoney
ridge at a smidge under 12000'.

There was a bit of snow coming down the other side, but it was about
20 yards and soft enough to be able to stamp a good purchase, so
nothing remotely alarming.

Then the real descent began, as the path zigged and zagged down to the
magnificent greeny-blue lakes we could see from the top of the pass.

Unsurprisingly, everyone heading up was happy to stop to chat,
including the girl who was heading north on the PCT, but had turned
back to return to Independence having realised two days after leaving
there that she'd woefully misjudged the quantity of food required for
this leg. The mind boggles as to how you can misjudge so much on a 5-6
day leg that it becomes worthwhile turning around and walking 2 days
back up the trail.

Rae Lakes, around and along which we walked in the middle of the day
were magnificent, with their clear water showing as a perfect
green-blue and with the towering white peaks all around. They would
have made a good lunch spot, except we overshot the place we had
earmarked for that purpose so found ourselves walking on to the next
lake.

There the mosquitoes bothered us (why does the wind disappear the
moment you sit down for lunch?!), and a lack of nearby running water
dictated a dry lunch, so it was a quick affair. Still, the afternoon
was under 5 miles long, so we focussed on the long rest we could have
on arrival.

They weren't the quickest downhill miles ever, as the smooth trail to
which we have become accustomed was here replaced by a stoney path
which wouldn't have been out of place in the Lakes or Scotland. It
slowed us down, as did the man-made steps which had been designed for
someone nine feet tall.

Our campsite for the night finally appeared before us, and there
beyond it was *the* bridge. Think of the bridge on 'I'm a Celebrity
Get Me Out Of Here', and that's what it's like (okay, maybe not quite
as long or as high, but much bigger and more wobbly than your average
suspension bridge over a burn in the Highlands).

I've already been across it once in each direction (just for the fun
of it) and can't say I'm thrilled by the thought of crossing with my
pack on, but I'm certainly not going back south, so across I shall go.

day 22 - Another Nero

Friday 22 June (1715-1830ish)
Distance: 2.75 miles (non-PCT miles)

On Wednesday evening Mick's vote was for a Zero today, whereas my
original plan had been for a nero. I was happy to go with Mick's
opinion, and we came up with a planned itinerary for the rest of the
walk based on that.

Various plans were hatched about where we would spend the second
night, until Mick, surprisingly suggested that we could walk a couple
of miles back up the pass tonight. I pointed out that wouldn't be a
zero, but that's exactly what we've done.

I'm pleased to report that even though we were only in town for a day
and a bit, we are feeling well rested and well fed. The 3 showers that
we fitted into our stay at the Dow Villa Hotel have made us feel more
human too - I think we managed to get most of the dirt off!

Today's activities involved only eating (there was lots of that) and
repacking our bags, including the whole exercise of once again
cramming 6 days food into our bear cans. We have more food with us
this time (we need to eat more, whether we feel like it or not), yet
we managed to get it all in. Those cans are advertised as holding 6
man-days of food, and I'd say they're about right.

Needing to get back to Independence, and with the bus not being until
5pm, we had no real option but to hitch - or to beg a ride. The latter
seems to work better, so we wandered along to the petrol station where
I walked over to a group of ladies whose cars seemed to be pointing
the right way and asked if they were headed to Independence. And thus,
I scored us a lift on the first ask - bingo!

Getting out of Independence, up the 15-mile dead-end road to the trail
head wasn't quite as easy. Trail Angel Uber-Bitch was down there, but
her car was full, so off we went with our 'Trail Please' sign to try
our luck hitching. We did finally get picked up, after about an hour
(the main problem was lack of cars heading up the road), by the camp
host of the campground at the trail head. As it happened it was
moments before Uber-Bitch returned for her next run, and we ended up
being overtaken by her car. Still, it did mean that all seven of us
who were waiting at the roadside got up to the trail at about the same
time.

As we left Independence we saw many of the posse we had been moving
along with over the last week or so, but most of them were headed into
Bishop for resupply. Only one is heading back out in the morning, so
it looks like we're going to be with a new group of people on this
next stage.

Next stop is VVR. The plan hatched yesterday morning suggested we'll
be catching the ferry across the Lake on Thursday evening. Having got
a headstart tonight (rather than heading out tomorrow lunchtime), it's
possible we may now make the Thursday morning ferry and have a day and
a half there. We'll see - there's many a high pass between here and
there.

Day 21 - Resupply Day

Thursday 21 June (0715-1000)
Distance: PCT miles: 0; non-PCT miles: 5

There was a little nervousness as we pitched the tent last night.
After leaving the PCT to join the Bullfrog Lake Trail (not Bulldog
Lake, as I keep calling it), we passed a sign which said that there
was no camping at the lake. Had we passed a similar sign at the other
end then we would have been happy, but no such sign appeared. Hoping
that the exclusion applied to the lake shore only (or otherwise that
there wasn't a ranger hiding behind a nearby boulder) we pitched the
tent on a dry pond bed slightly further up the valley.

Our pitch was just at the start of the ascent up the Kearsarge Pass.
This walk out for resupply isn't just an extra 15 miles, there's also
more than a modicum of up involved. It's not too bad on the way out
(just 1500') and as we made our way up the switch-backs, we were
trying to guess where the trail crossed the ridgeline. It was a head
popping up on the ridge that gave the location away, and when we got
up there we found four people, two of them still in their sleeping
bags having spent the night in the tiny flat area on the top.

The 2500' drop down the other side seemed never ending, the 3 miles
going on for about 8. Most people we passed were on a mission to get
back to the PCT, but one chap did stop for a proper chat when he heard
our accents. Turns out he lives about 15 miles away from us!

Had we known that there was trail magic, and lifts to town, right at
the trailhead, then we would have made the effort to get down there
last night. We had seriously considered doing that, but calculating
that we wouldn't get down there until approaching 9pm, we didn't think
there would be anyone heading to town at that time, and didn't know
there was a campground.

The trail angels were out on a walk when we got to their pitch (we'd
met them on our way), but no sooner had we sat down with a can of cold
pop than a chap called Backtrack volunteered his girlfriend to give us
a lift down to Independence. Yeah! How easy was that?

With our parcel collected (tip: call it a package not a parcel when
you go to collect, or there can be much confusion) and Subway
sandwiches eaten, we needed to get to Lone Pine and the next bus
wasn't for hours. There's not much in Independence other than a
convenience store at the petrol station, and a Subway, and we'd had a
recommendation that Lone Pine was a good place to go (it being a third
of the distance than the other option, Bishop).

In our second stroke of good fortune, we were just cramming the
contents of the parcel into our bear canisters, when a chap started
chatting to us (including the usual 'Australia or New Zealand?'
question). Mick thought he'd just sneak in the fact that we were
trying to get to town, and what do you know but this chap was heading
that way. Half an hour later we were drinking pop with PCTers Magellan
and (can't remember his name) in a bar across the street from where we
intended to spend the night.

A relaxed afternoon has been had. After a lot of pre-washing*, laundry
was done (Mick couldn't join me in the Laundromat - he has no spare
clothes and in the 40-degree heat declined to use his waterproofs),
shops were perused (I was after a mosi-proof shirt, but couldn't get
one) and we sat around a lot. A pre-dinner starter of a pint of
ice-cream each helped the calorie deficit (we're both rather skinny at
the moment and with our hip-belts being too big even at their smallest
limits, our heavy bags aren't as comfy as we would like) but I fear
that we're not going to be able to cram in enough food to make a
signficiant difference before we hit the trail again.

As to the town of Lone Pine, it seems that it was the base for the
filming of lots of cowboy films, so there are plaques and memorabilia
at every turn. We're all the way down at 4000' in town, on a plain
which is surrounded by mountains that look like artists impressions.
With the colour of the sky, the colour of the hills (light grey) and
the haziness of the air, they just don't look real! It's not been a
bad place to spend a day.

Now to try to hitch (or maybe 'yogi') a lift back to Independence,
with the hope of then catching someone heading up to the trailhead on
a Friday evening.

(* I gave the socks a pre-wash in 10 changes of water before I
adjudged them clean enough to go in the machine!)