A snippet of last night’s conversation.
Me: So the passes are 9 miles apart and there is 2000ft down and back up between them.
Lucky Joe: Then we have breakfast.

We set off from just below Pinchot Pass at 6:30 this morning (I ate breakfast in my sleeping bag), crossed the pass and were plugging on down into the canyon for quite a while. The two groups that I saw yesterday were each packing up their tents, still in the shade, as we went by.

The walk across to Mather Pass wasn’t all that steep but I was dragging along for most of it. At the pass we found some familiar faces. Fester, Bounty Hunter, Filthy Figaro, Germinator and Neptune who were all suprised that we had been behind them on the trail. We exchanged trail gossip including news that Sandles had got a ’staph’ infection in her blood. Sounds really bad. By noon we were on our way down and having fun glissading on one of the very few snow patches left on the trail. I managed to pull off a very cool grind down a large rock, no snowboard or anything.

Further on down we stopped to swim in Lower Palisade Lake before stomping down the knee-busting Golden Staircase and the valley below to complete the day’s 4000ft elevation loss. We’ve all made a tiny start up the next canyon on the way to Muir Pass, possibly the only one with notable snow remaining. I’m next to the ranger station here, camping near Chet, a guy claiming to be only the third person ever to do the Sierra High Route solo (though I met someone coming on at Independence also doing it this year). It’s 240 miles of which 30 are on trails. Looks like quite a rough hike. Time to hide in my bag and wait for daylight.

More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Glen Pass to Mather Pass

After a week of doing other, equally enjoyable, things I have finally gotten back to the Pacific Crest Trail and you can move my little marker 16.7 miles closer to Canada.

After stopping briefly to chat with OJ and April before they hiked over to Independence, Lucky Joe and I crossed Glen Pass without any trouble. We’d heard previously that it and Muir had the most snow and if that is ‘the most’ then this year’s Sierra is a cake walk. It was a long descent to Wood Creek, past the lovely Rae Lakes, and the haul up the other side was pretty tough. I met 6 other north bound PCTers today, but on first impressions they didn’t seem nearly as much fun as the ones I already know. We’re camped at 11,332ft, according to Lucky Joe’s watch, and can see Pinchot Pass from here.

More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Glen Pass to Mather Pass

Bronwyn will remember the stupid grin I had while riding a scooter around Santorini, a sun drenched Greek island. Well the grin is back but this time it’s for the mountains, the snow, the trees and the bears.

Today we crossed the highest point on the PCT. Forrester Pass at 13,300ft. It was quite a slog just to get to the start of the climb, crossing good sized streams and my first proper snow walking experience. The path up the mountain is switchbacked like crazy and looks like a lot of effort moving all that rock just for a few hikers. The pass is known amongst PCTers for the dangerous snow chute right at the top but this year we’ve got it easy. The snow only covers one side of the trail so Tiki, Lucky Joe, Second Hand (formerly known as Mike) and I got to the top just exhausted and not petrified. We posed for photos, admired the incredible scenery and got cold so we set off down the north side. Lucky Joe was the first to try glissading, the art of sliding down the snow to save the effort of walking. We all had a go, some even two and down we went. Four merry explorers in the most awesome place I have ever seen. We did get one dodgy snow crossing, we all went very slowly over it. It was at least 45 degrees and a run out that would surely break legs or worse.

The walking got easier and the small snow melt streams became a big river as we got back below tree line. We even got to see a bear pretty close, like within 20m. Just standing there watching us watching him. Eventually he saunted off and we all felt a little better for enjoying nature at its finest.

The second climb of the day was a mean one and I was nearly beat. We’re east of Bullfrog Lake on our way out via Kearsarge Pass and the mountains and lakes are…and here I struggle to find a superlative great enough to explain this place. Magnificent, awe-inspiring, magestic, spectacular. All of the above I believe. I’ve taken a bzillion photos and hopefully Dad will have the time to upload a few of them in a week or so and link to them here.

[Well I managed to squeeze a few into this page. Walks With Son]

Tiki, Lucky Joe and I just cooked dinner, talked a little bit and retired to our tents. This has been one of the physically toughest and most rewarding days of the trail. Whoooohooo!

Distance today: 23.2 miles. Total distance: 790.7 miles

*update*

It’s 2:18am and we just had another bear encounter. I woke to hear rustle, then branches snapping, then knawing! Tiki and I got out with headlamps and rocks and I could just make out the shape of a bear trying to get into Tiki’s Ursack. We scared it off pretty easily and hung the bag a little higher.

More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Crabtree Meadows to Independence

Whooweee, what a day. I’ve hiked to the highest point in the contiguous United States, Mt. Whitney at 14,496ft. Mt. McKinley (known as Denali by the locals) in Alaska is 21,000ft but that’s a whole different sort of adventure.

The morning started early with a song for Tiki’s birthday then we set off up the mountain. I was refilling my water bottle from a nice clean stream at Guitar Lake an hour or so before the sun got to the western wall where we were switchbacking our way up the 4,000ft from our camp.

Lucky Joe, Tiki, Roswell and I rolled on as Wounded Face fell further behind. With all our gear back at camp the climb was easier than some but it was long. Even after reaching the trail that comes up from Whitney Portal on the eastern side we had over an hour to go. The elevation gain left me breathing hard at every stop and I could hear my heart pounding over my foot steps on the rocks.

From the top the view was of course amazing, and I took dozens of photos today. The Sierras stretched out beneath me like wrinkles on a sheet and to the east it dropped off dramatically to the desert. I did try to look over the edge when I first got up there but the particular large rock slab I stood on was wobbly. As I stepped forward it rocked underneath me and I felt like a dizzy spell was coming over me and I was about to faint. It was just the rock moving but it unnerved me so much I didn’t try it again.

We started down just after noon and found Wounded Face still plugging on up with maybe a mile to go. He wasn’t delirious but he was a little odd. I charged down pretty fast, convinced there were 33 miles to do before we branch off the PCT tomorrow and it wasn’t until the others rolled in maybe an hour later that they corrected my maths and I found out I could just say here the night.

So I am, but I’m worried. Wounded Face is up there without enough stuff for the night. We passed a frozen lake this morning and he only has a thin jacket and shorts. If he’s not in his tent by 3am I’m waking up Joe and going to look for him. He may stop at Guitar Lake where tomorrow’s hopefuls will be setting out from. Fingers crossed I’ll find him safe and warm in his tent when I go check.

*update*
Wounded Face walked in around 8pm, much sooner than we expected. He’s tired but happy and talking, he may never know we genuinely feared for his life. Now I can sleep well, 6am doesn’t seem that early if you’re in bed by 8.

More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Summiting Mt Whitney

The sun didn’t exactly reach us in the morning but it was still a great place at the top of the world when we set off again at 6:35 am. Less than half an hour later we were at the junction with the Trail Pass route, my cue to exit. Mike had camped at Mulkey Pass, just before Trail Pass, and caught up with us in time to take a ‘team photograph’ before we went our separate ways. I left the PCT and headed down the steep switchbacks to Horseshoe Meadow, with its campground and the promise of road access.

The PCT trail is a world of ugly blisters and smelly feet, aching backs and frozen fingers, filthy clothes and smiling faces. It is also, in the Sierras at least, a world of astonishing natural beauty. The days were pleasantly cool and the views breathtaking. A most unexpected and delightful feature was that there were absolutely no mosquitos. Dire warnings that the insect attack could reduce a man and beast to madness proved completely unfounded.

It broke me up a bit to see Craig stride away up the next slope, but I was relieved to be the one heading downhill. I get great satisfaction from seeing each of my children exceed my capabilities in their chosen fields. Craig has chosen to challenge and beat me in my own fields (no, I never was a marathon runner). Tomorrow he will climb Mount Whitney. I did that last August, in an increasingly desperate attempt to claim the higher ground in the competition that he will surely win. It took me 19 exhausting hours. He’ll probably run up it.

I reached Horseshoe Meadow at 8 am and found the road nearly an hour later, joining it just below the sign saying “You are entering Active Bear Country”. I waited an hour for the first downhill car, which was actually one of the eight uphill cars I had waved to in that time returning. Thanks to Stephanie of Mammoth, a retired school teacher from Bishop, and Steve the angler I was back at Kennedy Meadows four and a half hours after I reached the road. I stopped in at the store and said hello to Mr Smiles, a thru-hiker, and Justin and Thomas doing a section hike from Tehechapi to somewhere in the Sierras. Another eight hours on the road and I was back in San Francisco.

More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Kennedy Meadows to Crabtree Meadows

Today I crossed the 25% mark so I’ve only got to do the same distance three more times! I’m glad it’s not going to be the same landscape. Right on the 25% mark was the end of the last water alert for 500 miles. An alert is noted in the data book when there is a 12 mile stretch where there is no water within 1/2 mile of the trail. Washington has 3, Oregon has 5, California has 19 (but is also 2/3 of the trail). Enough with the numbers.

At Walker Pass I met two trail workers Bill and Jerry who have already cleared the trail from Spanish Needle Creek to Kennedy Meadows (40 miles) and are about to work their way south from the pass. They gave me water and advice about camping. I knew Joshua Tree Spring was a bad idea because of a nosey bear, but now Spanish Needle Creek is being visited too so my 20 mile day became a 25. And those extra miles were distinctly uphill. I passed Blue Sky and Vortex just before stopping at the creek for dinner. They’re the only people I have seen on the trail since Hiker Town which was a week ago. I wonder if the herd will have faded out by the time it passes me.

I’d already decided where to camp based on the guide book’s note that there were sites and that it’s 10 miles mostly down hill to water tomorrow morning, but when I got here I was amazed as much as I was daunted. Right on a saddle, gentle to the west, perilous to the east which is where the wind is blowing me. I hope that dies down tonight, the tree I am sheltering behind is a noisy one. I just saw sunset and if I were to still be in my bag at sunrise I could watch it from the same spot. My alarm is still set for 4am so I’ll probably leave early again, we’ll see.

Early during the night I woke and looked skyward. I actually said out loud “Holy cow!”. With no moon or haze it was gorgeous. I wish I could have kept my eyes open longer but I drifted back to sleep quickly. Later I saw the moon rise. Through the desert dust it has an orange glow and looked just a little haloweeny.
More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Tehachapi to Kennedy Meadows

The first time I woke up today was in the wee small hours after the moon had set. The Milky Way was there but not clear. I’m looking forward to the sierra night sky.

I got up and moving, passing Wandering Jew and Totally Rachel as they broke camp. It was a hot day (as you’d expect) and as I got closer to the Mojave Desert it got hotter. I pulled into Hiker Town by 11am and spent 5 hours enjoying the amenities. It’s a strange place. Regular looking house but with some pioneer-era looking buildings along the driveway, and a caretaker called Bob. Though perhaps my favourite thing was the abandoned S.W.A.T. car out the back, still with sirens on top. The water from the pipe was warm, too warm to drink but good for cooking, the tap had high-pressured cold water.

The outdoor shower was awesome. I love showering outside, especially when there is a door and warm water. I ate, slept, washed and even emailed until I really had to move on. So out into the desert I went. The path follows the new aqueduct for less than a mile then the old one for 14. First it’s a buried black pipe big enough to walk on. Then it becomes a concrete tunnel next to a dirt road. And it was on that dirt road that I spent the afternoon, evening and then night.

I am now at the Cottonwood Creek Bridge a whopping 29.7 miles from where I woke up. There’s a water cache here and also a little jumpy rodent that wants something from my bag. I don’t have any food for him but I do have a small pile of rocks he might get if he comes within reach again.

Disaster at Hiker Heaven: Water Shortage! During some late night revelry one poor hiker stumbled over a vital part of the sprinkler system, snapped off a valve and created an 8ft geyser in the back yard. The wash of which was very visible in the morning as was the lack of water for the property because they’re on a tank rather than mains, and it was now empty.

Just as I was leaving Squatch and Neighbour-J said goodbye and mentioned they’d see me at the Anderson’s house tonight. Then I had the bright idea that they could take my pack and I’d get a very easy walk with just water and snacks. They agreed and I set off much lighter than all those early birds also hoping to make it 24 miles to Green Valley.

I soon reached Scatman and Wounded Knee’s water cache where they’d left some for me, then caught up with Troll and Oblivious. Troll was having foot trouble so I offered to carry something to lighten his load and I was given 10+ lbs of food. I regretted that pretty quickly but still managed to get it the whole way. I ran into a bunch at lunch time and a few more at the Anderson’s Oasis cache about 7 miles from the end.

From there I walked with Riddle for a while and she set me such puzzles as
     ”The maker didn’t want it, the buyer didn’t use it, the user didn’t see it.
     What was it”
and
     ”A man lies dead in a field, he’s wearing tights and a rock is nearby.
      What happened?”
Answers on a postcard please.

If you’ve got ones along those lines send them in now so I can pass them on.

Vortex caught up surprisingly quickly, he’d been running. Once I finished my apple I joined in too and we took off at quite a pace. By the time we hit the road I’d done 24.2 miles in 9.5 hours including meal breaks. Not marathon speeds but I was in long sleeves, trousers and carrying a heavy sack of food.

I’m at the Anderson’s house now. Casa de Luna they call it and it’s a very casual atmosphere. Big taco salad dinner and then the story of how and why they started trail angeling. I preferred the stories about messing with hikers, like picking up hitchhikers and warning them about “those crazy Andersons” only to park in the driveway and reveal they are the loonies themselves.
More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Aqua Dulce to Tehachapi

A true Zero Day here at the Saufley’s house. I’m very much settled into the early wake ups now so by 6 am I was in the mobile home thing and frying bacon and eggs. As skinny as I was before starting this adventure I’ve lost weight in the last 33 days and today I found a lot of it again. I planned out how and where to meet Dad in June, posted a bunch of stuff to myself along the trail and bought food for the next week. A very good use of a town day for sure.

Vortex and Blue Sky didn’t have so much luck. They did all that but were also organising a new cellphone to replace the one that was in their bounce box* when they sent it but not when it arrived here, and when they went to get their new hardware the car broke down and Jeff & Donna had to go rescue them. But then some thing great happened. Fester organised a quick whip-round and most of us put in a few bucks to help them out with replacement costs.

The fire is now down to embers and I’m in my sleeping bag really looking forward to getting somewhere tomorrow. I know the herd is right behind me so I want to get moving and across the desert.

*bounce box = a box/bucket/container that you send from one town to the next, adding or removing things you need for each section.
More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Wrightwood to Agua Dulce

Scatman was awake well before me and got our food down from the rope. I haven’t seen him all day but I know I was within 10 minutes of him at a water stop earlier. After dropping down to Highway 2 from Little Jimmy Campground the trail wound its way up over Mount Williamson and I knew it was going to be a hard day.

Back down to the highway and eventually to Eagle’s Roost picnic area. Here the PCT is closed because the mountain yellow-legged frog is some how endangered by our presence. I really wanted to walk the official mapped route but that wouldn’t be very cool after my encounter with the biker breaking the rules. So a 2 mile road walk began. I ran parts of it just because I could and it would amuse Vortex and Blue Sky. Getting back to the trail involved a mile or more of the Buckhart Trail at the bottom of which I saw two day hikers *and their dog* going into the frog-zone! Bloomin’ day hikers.

Coming back up to road level was a long process. I stopped every 10 minutes for water and the afternoon dragged on. But eventually I got there and the path got easier on the other side. Max was nearby and we reached Camp Glenwood together. That’s 400.7 miles from Campo. I last saw her at another crossing of Highway 2 as Fester and Wilderness Bob caught up and suggested there was a restaurant just over a mile down the road. I’m a mile along the trail now, camping alone. I know some others are in a campground a couple of miles from here but this is far enough for me today.

More photos of this day’s journey can be found at Wrightwood to Agua Dulce