#pct2019

The next morning was June 23 (Day 51). I had only made it four more miles after separating with Gaelen at Spanish Needle Creek (mile 669) the day before. I woke up late, lonely, in pain, with no prospects of good distance that day, and an impending dread of continual injury. It was the toughest moment for me since the first few days out of Campo when I thought I had really gotten myself in over my head athletically. I may have cried a little, but then a mantra came to me that made all the diffence: The Adventure Continues. Nothing was over yet, nothing was finished. This was just a new obstacle to overcome on the journey to Canada. Up to this point I had mostly focused on building up my body: muscle strength, cardio endurance, digestive efficiency, joint alignment (a big struggle with my scoliosis), etc. But starting from here I began to have time and energy to devote to my mental growth. I gained a new resiliency that morning.

Researching how to cure shin splints revealed R.I.C.E. was the number one therapy. So I knew I would need to take at least three days "tent rest" in Kennedy Meadows South, probably more. That would be OK though, as lots of hikers take copious days off there. As the gateway into the Sierras, it is a gathering place for those waiting for the right conditions, the right gear, or the right friends to begin their mountainous adventures. Calf compression sleeves were also recommended, so instead of using mine for recovery while I slept, I began wearing them while hiking. I also learned how to tape my shin to help relieve the pressure on my tibia. Shin splints are so painful because the swelling pushes against the bone. The swelling could be from the tendon that runs down the shin into the foot or muscular. The latter can take weeks to heal, so I hoped it was the former (it felt like that was the case).

Next I researched the causes of shin splints. Overstriding is a major risk factor. So trying to keep up with Gaelen the last two weeks was probably to blame. But walking downhill with a heel strike can also aggravate shin splints, and that was exactly what I'd been doing since my shoes started falling apart about 400 miles back. So the solution seemed simple: walk my own pace, return to a midfoot landing, and buy new shoes! But only after all the R.I.C.E. took the swelling and pain away completely. I knew I would need diligence to stay still until the healing finished.

After applying the regimen of stretching, massage, PT, and CBD lotion, I walked until about 1300 and took a two hour siesta in the shade of a granite boulder. I applied the regimen again and was able to make it just north of Fox Mill Spring (mile 683) where I camped in a flat spot of a coulee. That put me at about 12 miles that day, about 2/3 my old pace.

The next day I ran into Deluxe at Manter Creek (mile 694) and met two Canadian girls: Smiles & Miles. I took a siesta nestled in the tall brush and ate a large amount of Skittles. After soldiering on, I camped right along the South Fork Kern River (mile 698) and soaked my feet and shin splints in the cold water. It stiffened the ankle further, but relieved a great deal of discomfort.

The next morning I passed the 700 mile mark just before the road to the General Store at Kennedy Meadows South. Walking up, I received the traditional cheer from the dozen or so hikers chilling on the deck. I checked the log but didn't see Gaelen's name. So I hitched south two miles to Grumpy Bears Retreat which was next to Triple Crown Outfitters, where I had decided to stay. Both Triple Crown and the General Store offer free camping, but camping near Grumpy's bar sounded more lively. I bought a shower, a cheese burger, and 8 hours of WiFi; started my laundry; and connected with Gaelen via email. I hadn't had any cell service since the morning I researched shin splints.

Gaelen had arrived two nights before and was well rested and ready to tackle the mountains. I needed 3-5 days off. So we dissolved our commitment to stay together and began to each hike our own hike. It was sad to see the band broken up, but ultimately it was for the best. That night, the clouds took on what a local called the "Sierra glow". I set up my tent by Triple Crown with Deluxe and dreamed of mountains.

Ascend 3969ft, Descend 4222ft

The Trinity Alps:

One end of the valley:

The same view from a few miles further on:

The valley opens up:

Rain on the horizon:

Fire patch (likely a controlled burn)

Moss covered trees:

Starting to hail:

Out of the valley:

We were very excited to reach the next town. The PCT crosses a highway at the historically important Walker Pass (mile 652) which was discovered in 1834 by Joseph Walker and still serves as the southern-most crossing of the Sierras. From there you can hitch to either Inyokern/Ridgecrest (east) or Lake Isabella/Kernville (west). Luckily, we have an old Boy Scout friend from our days working at Camp Bonaparte that lives in Inyokern, and we were very excited to catch up after many years.

We departed Tehachapi (mile 566) in the late afternoon of June 15th (Day 43), and were sad to continue on without our friends Oilspill and Footloose that we had connected with along the Aqueduct. We continued to night hike as the desert wasn't quite finished yet, and there were some very long water carries coming up. Leaving the freeway after a bus ride, we had 16 miles to get to our next water source.

After our quick midnight nap, we arrived the next day at Golden Oaks Spring (mile 583) and prepped for an even longer water carry of 19 miles to Robin Bird Spring. Ian began to despair about all the water weight we had to carry, but Gaelen took this new burden in stride. Cowboy camping after midnight in a grassy depression between oak trees was magical with the moonlight, if midge ridden. The Tehachapi Mountains we were passing through were a distinctly new terrain: merging fluidly between wet coulees of mistletoe laden oak trees and dry, arid hilltops of sagebrush and Joshua trees.

We arrived at Robin Bird Spring (mile 602) the next morning just as everyone camped there was waking. Taking a few quiet moments to eat, drink, and simply share space with other hikers in silence was restorative. A few miles later we reached Landers Meadow (mile 609), our last water source before the longest water carry to date - 35 miles! We slept the afternoon away before departing Landers Meadow, but not before a nice conversation with some retired Jeepsters passing through. With 7 liters of water for Ian and 9 liters for Gaelen, we worked our way nearer to Wyley's Knob before crashing a bit earlier than planned on a Joshua tree topped ridge.

We rose early and easily from our ridgetop campsite before dawn, having now fell into a good night hiking rhythm, but Ian was beginning to feel like he could no longer keep up with Gaelen. Hiking through Joshua trees for most of the day, Ian finally caught up with Gaelen at a water cache before Skinner Peak (mile 631). You see the truth is that there were two water caches maintained by trail angels through this 70 mile stetch of sparse water. However, judging from the comments on Guthooks hikers were drinking an average of 40 gallons every day from each cache! The trail angels seemed to bring 250 gallons each week or so. Napkin math revealed this to be potentially problematic. We DID NOT want to arrive at a water cache expecting to refill and find none, leaving us to face 10-ish miles to the next reliable supply. So, we hoofed the extra weight for water security. Ultimately, the caches were well supplied, but better safe than thirsty.

At the last water cache, Ian napped much longer than advisable and rushed to catch up with Gaelen. Crossing Skinner Peak around 1800, Ian feared the late afternoon rain shower - with distant, rolling thunder - would hinder his progress, but luckily there were no lightning strikes to shelter from. Arriving well past dark at McIver's Cabin (mile 644), Ian rolled out his bag and crashed hoping to find Gaelen in the morning light.

The next morning was June 19 (Day 47), Gaelen was relieved to discover Ian's campsite and we walked the last few miles down to Walker Pass (mile 652). The views of the Sierra Nevada were stunning and breathtaking. Ian tuned into Above & Beyond's Group Therapy #250 Live from the Gorge Amphitheater to really soak up all the positive emotions. Our friend Kirt came to pick us up from the pass with cold beverages and allowed us to crash at his Trantula Ranch in the Red October (his super cool airstream trailer) for the next two nights. It was great fun reconnecting with Kirt and his family: wife Dawn, daughter Cheyenne, and son Schuyler (who had just bought his first house!). All except Dawn had worked at Camp Bonaparte, though Cheyenne during years we had not. Thank you again Kirt & Dawn for hosting us!

Holy wow! We were so close to the Sierras we could taste them. Their every glimpse, the very idea of their presence, filled all of our imaginings. THIS was what we had been waiting for. If it had not been for Ian's continually aching feet, this would have been a time of shared, extreme exuberance. As it stood, Gaelen was always a few miles ahead, a few thoughts in front.

I woke up at 0300 on July 9th (Day 67) and started packing. I wasn't bringing much, but enough to need my pack: food for a day, water filter, wind jacket, and my sleeping bag (in case it was cold on top, but I wanted to sit and enjoy the view). Hell, it was cold now. I was dressed in my merino wool base layer, my warm wool shirt, and my down jacket. I had to drop my tent so I could bring my trekking poles. Bandaid, Scribe, Jailbreak, and CB decided to listen to their bodies and not make the summit attempt. I saw other headlamps preparing, so I walked over to ask if I could join their expedition. However, they were a guided tour group and company policy was to not allow that.

Undeterred and armed with caffeine and honey buns, I headed for the creek. It was pitch dark because the moon had set earlier in the night. So instead of hunting for the crossing, I just found a rock to sit on and eat my breakfast. Watching where the tour group crossed the creek, I moved to a rock right next to the crossing and waited. It was freezing, so I pulled out my sleeping bag to use as a blanket. The next group that came to cross was father & son Reinhard & Carl from near Frankfurt, Germany and Carl's lady friend Mary Kate from New York. They graciously agreed to become a group of four.

As the blue hour began to brighten, you could see our prize waiting for us 8 miles in the distance. Climbing Mt. Whitney from Crabtree Meadows is done in five parts (you can also climb a different trail from Lone Pine, plus there is a technical mountaineering route): 1) travel northeast along Guitar Lake to the base of the mountain, 2) rock scramble southeast up the lower slopes to the, 3) switchbacks which lead you due north almost all the way to the final elevation leaving you with just, 4) a long ridge walk westward to, 5) the final ascent.

In the photo there is a large snow field like a skinny, upside down triangle. To its left is #3, #4, and #5. Due to the unseasonably large amount of snowfall, there was still large, but thin fields of snow on the approach along Guitar Lake (#1) and #2's rock scramble, but #3's switchbacks were mostly clear by now with only three snow traverses we would need to perform. Plus, the final climb in #5 was also a snow climb to the exposed, rocky summit. We would want our microspikes and ice axe for all the snow work, but otherwise we used our trekking poles on the rocks and exposed trail. The other three were willing to accept the risk, and hadn't brought ice axes. This was only their third day on trail hiking the John Muir Trail northward. The JMT overlaps the PCT for most of the Sierras.

Working our way up the side of the lower slopes, looking backward to Guitar Lake.

Here is a photo of the second snow traversal. You can see Reinhard a bit over halfway across. We all crossed the first snow traversal without micro spikes as it wasn't dangerous looking. This second crossing was pretty safe too, but with a long slide down to the bottom. So we all put on micro spikes for the second crossing, except for Reinhard. Reinhard was fearless. He explained that he roller bladed and skiied, so his balance was good and he wasn't really afraid of falling. So, I gave Reinhard the trail name: Hardcore. The third snow traversal however was dangerous, with rocks to fall on, so even Hardcore spiked up.

After the rest of the switchbacks and the ridge walk, it was just one final snow climb to the top. This part felt pretty steep and I was very glad to have my ice axe. The top was a mass of jumbled rocks with a summit shelter, Park Service plaque, and Geological Survey marker. Bandaid has bought me a mini survey marker for Whitney in the form of a hat pin which I had been wearing on the inside band of my hat. Now, I repinned it on the outside.

Between Whitney and the mountains in the background of this photo - which run north-south - is a river. Next, we'll continue northward (to the right) always on the eastern (near) side of the river. We'll cross several large streams feeding into the river valley, but we'll stay above 9000 feet as we climb to Forrester Pass and into the High Sierras.

My favorite view from Whitney was Wotans Throne.