-> Kennedy Meadows to Kearsarge Pass ->
5/27-6/2
After a round of goodbyes at Kennedy Meadows, we walked back to trail with packs full of big clunky bear cans, some new snow appropriate gear, and hopes that we could handle the mountains ahead.
We planned to spend the next 6.5 days on trail together before hiking out and hitching to Bishop. At the time, I was most excited about how remote the experience would be and that there wouldn’t be another city for a while. As much as I like dipping into town for some real food and air conditioning, I wanted to be challenged and have longer periods of time without those resources.
I had my permit checked by a PCTA employee who we saw again later that week hiking a section of the trail. This was my first time having to show my permit and it only added to the feeling that we were entering into a brand new experience.
Things began to shift as we left southern California behind. The trees got bigger and older all around and we walked through big meadows that approached snowy peaks to the north. There would be a few snow-free days before we increased elevation and transitioned into the high sierras.
By the afternoon, we had reached a footbridge that was home to dozens of swallows. They were constantly swooping in and out of their nests and would fly together like a school of fish.
The river was a few feet deep and moving steadily. I let the cold water carry me downstream and under the chirping swallows while I thought about how there was no better way to spend my 25th birthday. It was the first in a pattern of afternoon swims and long afternoon breaks in the coming weeks.
We laughed after deciding we should all have a Spice Girls nickname. In order – Sporty, Posh, Scary, Ginger, Baby (me). We pressed on higher up into the trees before setting up camp.
Some mornings, Manon would play a tranquil song from the Hobbit soundtrack as we were waking up and now I associate that song with the feeling of my sleeping pad deflating under me and my body hitting the ground.
It can be tricky to be tied to a trail family if you have different hiking styles, but we intentionally grouped up with similar people. Everybody sizes each other up in the desert so I was confident this group had the right balance of facing challenges while still taking time to appreciate the beauty. This was my first time committing to hike with a group for a designated amount of time, and I really enjoyed the experience.
If there were no upcoming challenges in the day (dangerous river crossings or mountain passes), we would hike alone for a bit.
It was so cool seeing how quickly we had entered a new world after leaving Kennedy Meadows. I found big mountain views in San Jacinto and part of the LA mountains but the Sierra Nevada was already very different.
It is grand and sprawling and always has more than one focal point. Each ridge I climbed gave sight to new peaks unfurling on the horizon.
Free Bird educated us a bit on types of Lichen and we memorized the names of three varieties.
Crustose: The simple and flat kind that grows like a crust
Foliose: Still flat but with lobe-shaped foliage (no picture)
Fruticose: The most dimensional varieties that can have branching and some fruiting features that look more fungal
Lichen is a symbiotic pairing of algae and fungus and is known as a colonizing species. They produce acids that erode rocks down into soils that can then be occupied by new species.
I spent hours admiring the trees in this section. The tall Junipers blew my mind with their twisting limbs and bark that peeled away. I am used to the California Juniper which is shrubby and grows in the desert (lots of them in Joshua Tree NP!).
Ponderosas and Jeffrey pines have the most interesting segments of bark that look like layered puzzle pieces.
At least once a day, a few of us would catch up at a meal break and talk about the insane trees we had seen that day. I loved geeking out on them with Free Bird since she was the most knowledgeable about forests.
My new pants were sagging but I found a cord on the ground that solved the problem. Food was stretched thin this week because I found it hard to fit enough in my bear can to last the 6.5 days. I cheated and didn’t put some other scented items (toothpaste, sunscreen, etc) in the can until I ate enough to make room for them.
I would often empty everything out of my bear can and try to figure out how I could scrounge an extra snack from my supply. I still had 5 more days to go on this supply.
Manon rationed one color from her Skittles bag each day. I ate my candy too quickly, so it was hilarious watching her and her celebratory handful of 11 pieces.
We made it to Chicken Spring Lake which was our first alpine lake and I think the first frozen lake I’ve ever seen.
I spent the afternoon after Chicken Spring Lake with Dream because he was having issues with FarOut (mapping app) and couldn’t navigate on his own. We joked that we would get him a backpack with a leash on it to keep him close.
Dream lives in Florida and has hiked the Appalachian Trail and the Florida Trail. We talked a lot about how those experiences compared to the PCT. As much as people have defended their love for the AT, many of them have also reiterated that they are grateful they did it before the PCT because it was more punishing and had less rewarding views. For some reason, I have zero interest in hiking the AT.
Out of everybody in our group, Dream was an outlier. He would get up around 5 am and wanted to have the majority of his miles done before lunch. The rest of us were prone to stretching out the day and smelling the roses.
He checked his progress at the same minute of each hour to see how many miles he had completed and would check the amount of elevation we were going to gain or lose at the beginning of each day. I enjoyed my day more when I didn’t know how intense it was going to be. I liked to let each climb and descent surprise me.
Joe Devel Peak on the left.
The highest mountain in southern California is Mount San Gorgonio, which stands at 11,500 feet. I love that mountain and hope to summit it again (you can sleep camp right on the summit!).
In contrast, the Sierra Nevada has over a hundred peaks above 13,000 feet. A hundred!
Dream and I knocked out 9 quick miles and got to a ranger cabin that was established for measuring snow levels in the winter. There are no roads nearby so I think the rangers have to hike out or ride a horse to the cabin.
We waited for the rest of the group to catch up and planned to sleep at the cabin.
Since we got there so early, we lounged around on the deck by the river and played music. Maybe Dream is on to something with his early start times – it was really nice being done for the day and having a few daylight hours left.
The only flaw with this stay was that we lost Manon for the night. Oops! The cabin was off trail and she thought we’d camp further down the river. We messaged her with our Garmins to make sure she was safe and caught up to her the next morning.
I used the thread and needles I found in a hiker box and finally stitched up my trail runners that had been delaminating for weeks. They were near the end of their lives but I still wanted to get a couple hundred miles out of them.
I couldn’t resist the opportunity to sleep above the porch’s cabin and hoped that a ranger wouldn’t show up (they didn’t). I fell asleep to the sound of the river rushing just 15 feet away knowing I’d have to cross it in the morning.
After averaging 19 miles that week, we were in for an easy day with only 7 miles to get to Crabtree Meadow. We planned this easy day because we would be attempting to summit Mount Whitney the next morning!
I have summited Whitney once before so I was grateful that I didn’t have the first time nerves.
Somebody put this sign together with pine cones that pointed ahead on the trail. I have no idea why it was there because there was no trail magic ahead:(
Spending the better part of the day relaxing at Crabtree Meadow was incredible. I dipped in Whitney Creek (numbing), washed my clothes, and laid out on the sunny grass for hours. I’ve never enjoyed napping in the sun like I have on trail.
We planned to summit Mt. Whitney as the sun rose the next morning.
To make up for the lost sleep, we would nap the following afternoon. We set up our tents in the shade of the trees so we could leave extra gear there and crash in our beds when we got back.
I prepared my breakfast for the morning and topped off the charge on my headlamp before bed.
Setting an alarm for 11:45 pm felt illegal.
I queued up all of my warm clothes next to me so I could put them on in the middle of the night and then I fell asleep by 6 pm.
I woke up to my alarm and accepted my fate.
A couple groups were making their way through the meadow and I watched from my tent as a succession of red headlamps passed by and crossed the river to start their trek. The hushed voices and the crunch of cold grass carried excitement. I think I would have felt nervous if I hadn’t hiked Whitney before.
Dream didn’t sleep well (pestered by a rat the whole night), so he decided to stay back. The rest of us got going at 12:30 am.
Crossing Whitney Creek to leave the meadow stole the last of my sleepy warmth. It was game time.
The terrain approaching Whitney was one of the most peaceful environments I’ve ever been in. It was windless with only the sound of running water and our feet crunching on the snow. Hiking at night tends to be significantly more peaceful than it is scary.
We stopped in amazement at the Milky Way reflecting off Timberline Lake in the pitch black. Across the lake, the rocky face had veins of snow that looked like a tidal wave looming over us.
We could see strings of headlamps ahead of us on the trail as a group wound up the switchbacks to the summit. There’s something very satisfying about the shared experience of hiking at night and seeing others making steady progress far ahead.
I ate my oatmeal with my axe at the top of the switchbacks, and then we only had a couple miles left!
We made it to the summit in the nick of time, just before the sun crested the horizon! It couldn’t have been timed better because we heard some groups got up there too early and were freezing! My water started to freeze and got slushy, but we had our sleeping bags with us in case we needed them.
It was a really fun moment and a huge relief for everybody who was able to make it to the top. It was awesome knowing we had accomplished the highest climb we would encounter on the whole trail!
When I summited Mount Whitney in 2019, we got hit with a summer storm right away and had to rush down off the mountain. This time, I got to sit and take it in.
The early sky was bright orange to the east and full of cool purples to the west.
On our descent, we could see everything in daylight for the first time. It was steep and rocky but not treacherous.
As the sun rose higher, I could finally shed some of the 4 top layers I had on.
Vibes and I had premeditated our post-Whitney swim in Timberline Lake to celebrate and soothe the muscles. I cannonballed in the frigid snow melt and sunk into the silt at the bottom of the lake. What an odd sensation.
Back at Crabtree Meadow, I got in my tent and slept like a stone for 2.5 hours.
I woke with bloodshot eyes at 4 pm and thought it was the next day. Instead, it was still May 31st and we were not done hiking. In fact, we had to climb over Forester Pass the next morning and would be waking up before 3 am. Forester Pass is the highest point on the official PCT.
It was a doozy to follow up Whitney with Forester, but our food rations didn’t allow for stalling.
I was not stoked but it ended up being a lovely stretch and I got a second wind. It’s hard to complain in such a beautiful environment.
After cowboy camping, I woke at 3:30 am to a frozen sleeping bag. I’ve become much less bothered by condensation and would just need to remember to dry it in the sun.
Manon, Dream, Vibes, and Free Bird packing up camp under the stars:)
Early morning river crossings were becoming common at higher elevation. Sometimes, I would tie my shoes to the top of my pack and cross in my underwear to keep everything dry.
We got up before three so the snow would be nice and hard while we went up Forester Pass. With microspikes, it was unlikely to slip around on the solid snow but that changes when the snow becomes slushy.
Me and Manon.
The approach to Forester was gorgeous and a little bit threatening. When we saw the pass, we were unsure of how we were going to get over the top. It looked quite steep and we couldn’t see the path.
It ended up not being complicated!
This was at the top of Forester Pass and I was grateful that this part of the trail was reinforced.
On the backside of Forester, we glissaded down a big snowy slope and took our time getting down below the snow level.
Finishing this pass was just as big of a relief as Mount Whitney and the view looking down into the valley took us all off guard. I had no idea what I was in for (in the best way).
My favorite part of each day was usually when we hiked far enough down to get below the snow level. That was when we could dry out all of the gear that had gotten wet the night before. I took a killer two hour rock nap to catch up from the early mornings.
The high elevation on Whitney and Forester made coming down to 9,000 feet feel normal.
At this point, we had accomplished the hardest sections for the week and would be hiking out to a trailhead in the morning and hitchhiking to town. It would be only 7 miles the next day to get to a trailhead!
We set up our camp and enjoyed the beautiful views of the valley as the sun set. It felt great being a day away from a real meal and we had been fixating on pepperoni pizza for days.
As we made our separate dinners, Vibes was looking for shapes in the snow patches on the mountains the same way you would with clouds. He later pointed out what he said was “the queen smoking a cigarette” but it was more like a ball with four protruding points. We joked about it countless times over the next week.
One really unexpected event that night was meeting Nicholas, a homeless man.
He was wearing heavy waxed jackets, military boots with staples that he pounded in for traction, a metal flask, and a small hatchet swinging from his side. Everything he had was heavy and you could see it in his pained steps. He hobbled down towards us while we were eating dinner and we couldn’t tell what he was saying. I was nervous about him because I was cowboy camping off away from my group that night.
He asked where he could find a bear box since he didn’t have a way of storing his food. After we gave him some directions, he walked off slowly and I was sure he wouldn’t make it to the bear box in time so I went and talked to him.
I was humbled and realized he was more mentally stable than he initially looked. He had lost his job a few days before and his car broke down too so he pulled some gear together and was trying to get to Hume Lake to see if he could be rehired for seasonal work. It was an irregular choice and I know he could have found another way to get there, but he felt like it was the way he needed to take. It would take him a few days to cut east through the mountains (if his information was correct). He was only stocked with 12 small beef jerky bags that he intended to ration. I made him promise me he would turn around if he didn’t find any roads within 5 days. I was fascinated by all of his custom gear and he loved to talk about how he put it together, including his homemade water filter and the cotton blanket he sewed into his military bivy.
I was still a little uneasy but I offered to store his food in my bear can and have him sleep next to me. I lent him my foam mat so he could sleep a bit better in his bivy and we cowboy camped together.
I found out he is a Christian and we talked about our faith as much as anything else while he spent at least ten minutes caring for his blistered feet. He layered his feet and slept with his boots on to stay warm.
In the morning, I gave him the few snacks I had left and we went on our way. He had no phone or way to keep in contact but I hope he got where he needed to go.
Hiking the PCT has been sociably comfortable. Everybody has money saved up and we rarely deny ourselves the gear or food purchases we want. It’s a world of suspended responsibilities and meeting Nicholas was a timely intrusion into that world. He helped remind me how lucky I am to be wandering the woods for fun for so long. I get to take time to satisfy my love for the outdoors and to fulfill a dream while very few people can step out of their lives to pursue these types of dreams.
After saying bye to Nicholas, we made our 7 mile trek over Kearsarge Pass where we could hitch a ride off trail. These were not PCT miles and we would have to do them a second time to get back to the actual trail.
Kearsarge Pass was easy, especially compared to Forester Pass, and we were stoked to get down to Bishop!
After 6 days, I could see a road! We passed by clean smelling day hikers and young kids on trail which meant we were getting close.
A pretty cool guy named Punisher was hanging out at the parking lot with sodas in his car. He is an ultra marathon runner and he might hop on the PCT in late June.
Manon and Free Bird tried approaching some cars to see if we could tag along and get a ride off the mountain. It took a good 45 minutes to get a ride, and it was a guy who originally told Free Bird he couldn’t take us. He turned around and drove back up to get us after his daughter told him we were PCT hikers. His name was Tori Walker and he is close friends with the founder of Gossamer Gear. The trail community is a truly tiny world.
It was incredibly fun taking the long windy road down to Independence in the back of the truck. Vibes played music on his speaker and we soaked up the satisfaction of accomplishing our first week in the Sierra. We felt the air getting hotter as we descended from the mountains and were in for some toasty days in Bishop.
Punisher (the guy who gave us soda) later found us outside the Independence gas station and let us pile into his car. We road along to Bishop where it was finally pizza time.
Manon and Vibes reuniting with Tim. I met Tim and Manon on day 3!
Pizza finally!
We stayed in The Hostel California which was a little eclectic hippie stronghold. There were some great outdoor lounge spaces, a kitchen stocked with lots of free leftovers, and an easy walk to numerous restaurants and coffee shops.
We got Mexican food a couple of times, went bowling (only $7 each!), and I made a habit of going to a coffee shop in the morning to listen to music and to search for a place to book for my brother’s upcoming bachelor party.
The next week on trail would have five passes and a reroute around the San Joaquin River, so we needed to plan more than usual before resupplying on food. Free Bird laid out a great plan that broke down our expected miles each day.
I got lucky and was able to visit family that was passing Bishop while I was there. Julie and John spoiled me with a bunch of pastries from Schat’s to bring back to my friends and we feasted that night. Thank you!!
I bought an unrealistic amount of food because I didn’t want to be as hungry as I was the week before. I crammed most of it in my bear can with some creative tactics (standing on top of it), but a few things did not make the cut. I would need to eat them before night 1 or leave them behind.
After a few fantastic days in Bishop, we prepared our return to Kearsarge Pass to tackle another week of rocky mountain passes, snow fields, and cold rivers.
I think we all felt more confident after the past week and were ready for some more rugged paradise.