It was a good night’s sleep but not 100% rejuvenating. Bunny’s hip kept her tossing and turning and my having to get up…wait a minute. I didn’t get up. That makes 12 nights in a row. I felt physically tired still but mentally in a fog. In other words, a typical night on the ground. We decided we need a day off. We’re pretty sure Bear and Sassy want one as well, but we’ll let them make the suggestion so we can acquiesce. Someday, they’ll do the same for (to) us.
It’s only 9 miles to Sonora Pass, so we took our time getting ready. This might have been a good time to tell the women we had a 2500’ climb which might have sped them up a bit. We chose to remain silent. Bear had said we have a 5 1/2 mile climb, but that didn’t quite sink in.
Sassy was more like herself. Bunny’s hip is always a bit stiff for the first half mile (especially if the first half mile is uphill). It’s no big deal for Bear and me to hike the PCT. We’re not in pain all that much. Occasionally, we’ll have bad days, but Bunny’s hip hurts almost every day. She will eventually build up more muscle to ease the pain in her hip and allow her to have bigger mileage days, but… Even on a good day, her pain is a 4 and gets worse the longer she’s hiking.
Our track record this section is not good. We’ve been hitting 4-5 miles by the time we take lunch, usually between 1 & 2. That’s when we start hiking by 8:15 or 8:30 at the latest. Today we started a little after 9. We’ve heard it’s an easy hitch to Kennedy Meadows, and that there was a later shuttle than the 3p we were hoping to catch. I wasn’t overly worried.
We don’t just hike with Bear and Sassy. We hike with several Bears and Sassy. There’s Safety Bear that analyzes all the risks we might encounter. There’s Concerned Bear when Sassy gets sick or in a semi-dangerous position (suck as walking on a steep, exposed trail—a daily occurrence in the Sierra). Then there’s Analytical Bear (Anal Bear for short) who over thinks all details of the hike (this is Off Trail Bear’s predominant persona—I haven’t seen it yet, but I KNOW he has a daily spreadsheet for this trip. He keeps referring to dates we “should” be there.) Today, we hiked with all the Bears at once.
By our first break at 2.5 miles into our 6 mile climb, it was apparent Sassy was not miraculously cured over night after our longest day of hiking so far. We all just wanted to get to “town” for a day of rest. To her credit, Sassy didn’t say much. As any man alive knows, when a woman doesn’t say much, there’s something wrong. As all men also know, if a man makes such a statement about a woman, or women in general, that man’s life is forfeit. I said it. I know it. It’s been a pleasure relating my experiences on the trail. I have already started digging my grave. I just pray for a quick, clean shot (preferably in the back of the head). There’s so much I still wanted to do.
At our second break, Sassy threw up a bit. Yes, I had planned to sit in that spot, but the space at the other end of the shade turned out to be much better even though I had to sit on a thorny bush. Sassy was in that quiet state women enter when you’re not certain if it’s anger, illness, or both (I’ve already said the grave is in progress, allow me a few last words). I thought this was a good time for Bunny to lead. (Bunny, by the way, has entered her “Energizer Bunny” persona and can walk the same pace for hours, uphill or downhill, without pause. It’s not fast, but it will eventually wear your ass down.)
We took off at Bunny’s uphill, pace. This worked for another 1.6 miles until we all stopped again. Now, Sassy lead. Sassy, who is sick and hates hiking uphill and wants to get to town, took the lead. We didn’t see them again until near the top of the climb, at which point Sassy took off again. Three of us thought the worst was over. One of us, who had analyzed the trail (guess who) knew better. We hit a section of 850’/mile. It didn’t slow Sassy down, but it did take the remainder of her energy.
The top section of the trail was a bit more than a mile of rocky trail at 10,500’ in full sun. Bunny and I were a couple hundred feet behind when I saw that Sassy had taken off her hat. I was convinced she was in early heat exhaustion doing irrational things. We caught up with them and she was severely nauseated. They dropped their packs to get her an antacid and told us to go on.
Bunny and I headed to the first shady spot we could find (1/2 mile ahead). I dropped my pack and headed back to them. I planned to grab Sassy’s pack. We need to get her off the trail. About 100 yards back, I ran into them coming down the trail. Sassy had her hat back on and said the antacid was working. She’s like a cat, except she has nine daily lives.
We made it across the rock section to the break point where the trail starts heading down. There was a group of 7 Nobo’s all in there 20s sitting down in a depression. They had just finished the 3 mile hike up from the pass. We had heard that Kennedy Meadows’ internet sucked, at best, and there isn’t any cell service down in the valley. Every one of these “kids” was on their phones and had ear buds in. It was like an AA meeting had accidentally been held in a VFW with a free open bar. I’m not certain they even saw us pass by.
Anal, excuse me, Analytical Bear had projected we need to be to this spot by 12:30. It was 1:17. By the time we had walked nearly a mile down, it was 1:47. We still had 2.4 miles to go if we wanted to catch the 3p shuttle to Kennedy Meadows. The trail was actually worse than Pennsylvania rocky. This is the worst kind of terrain for Bunny’s hip (which was supposedly tired from yesterday). Going downhill is harder on her hip, to boot (whatever the hell that means). Sassy stepped aside to release the hounds. She told Bunny it was the land of kittens, rainbows, unicorns, and bunny rabbits if she made it to Sonora Pass in time to catch and hold the shuttle. In the language of combat pilots…we were dots.
Hurting hip Bunny was hopping so damn fast I couldn’t keep up. I begged her to slow down. She came to a complete stop. I’ve always warned people not to get too close to Bunny if she suddenly stops in the trail. It usually means a supersonic fart. In this case, it was even worse. She full roundhouse slapped me. “I love you. You’re my husband, but don’t you EVER get between me and “Bunny Nirvana” again.” Enough said. We covered the 2.4 miles in 44 minutes.
There were 3 people at the pass that directed us to the parking lot we had passed 1/4 mile ago. Back to the lot we went. There were dozens of cars but only one hiker who seemed to be following us. We asked if he knew where the shuttle picked people up at. He told us that he was only following us because we looked like we knew what was going on. By now, Bear and Sassy had arrived. While we were trying to figure out what was happening, the shuttle drove by the lot up to the pass where we had originally gone. Never trust a day hiker!
Ultimately, we flagged down the shuttle and made it down to Kennedy Meadows in time to make 5p dinner reservations. It may not have been “Bunny Nirvana,” but it was Hiker Paradise with flush toilets, hot showers, a grocery store, laundry machines, and, most importantly, free refills on drinks with dinner. We will live to hike another day.
EFG
Since you asked, “boot” in the phrase “to boot” is a relic from old English. It meant “good” and we retain the superlatives that went with it: better and best. “To boot” in old English meant something good that was extra, and we still use it that way 1000 years later. I hope Bunny’s hip is better! I have the same problem.
Thanks. We’d like to have you along on trips as linguist and historical advisor. Bring Dan if you must 😉