Bear and I agreed before going to bed, that even though we were planning on a short day today, we still needed to get going early. It’s not really that bad of a day, just about the same amount of ascents and descents as yesterday with about a half mile less of distance. The big thing is still the heat. California has been having rolling blackouts because of the high power usage generated from AC. We were out of camp by 8:15.
Bear has not been himself since Ashland. There’s just a few possibilities for this: 1) he’s entering male menopause, 2) he’s tired of being around me (I know I can be grating even on the most patient of people. I had a Lama kick me out of his cave in Nepal…even the most patient of people get tired of me), or 3) he’s lost his desire to hike. The most obvious answer is tired of me, but I thought I’d verify with Sassy what was wrong. To my surprise, she said he was fine with hiking, but didn’t know what he wanted to do. The polite way of saying he’s tired of me. I made it a point to be less obnoxious for a while. The only way I know to do that is to shut up and drop back further from the pack so I’m not tempted to talk.
When I’m quiet, which isn’t often, I tend to think too much (the driving reason why I’m rarely quiet). I started doing the math. We’re 50 days into our hike this year and we’ve only hiked about 540 miles…not quite 11 miles a day. To make our goal of Walker Pass, we need to average about 13 miles a day. That means we either have to walk more every day, or take fewer to no days off, or accept the fact that we’re not making our goal of Walker Pass this year. The drop dead date for all of us is to be home in time to vote this year. We all have strong opinions about this election and I’m not willing to abdicate my responsibility to cast my vote.
The only real option is to change our plans because we enjoy our days off too much. We could hike longer days, but we don’t want to. This is enjoyment for us. We could skip the area between here and the Sierra which would give us enough time to get all the Sierra done. I know that the portion of Northern California that we’d skip would not be a big enough draw to get us back out. Only by skipping the Sierra, would we have enough of a draw to come back to finish the PCT. Bottom line, scratch the Sierra for this year. Now we have an extra 4 weeks to fill up before returning home.
Originally, we had thought we might have enough time to hike the Tahoe Rim Trail and the remaining portion of the PCT we had left. We had even considered coming back to Tahoe after we made it to Walker Pass. What if we hiked all of the PCT except for the Sierra and finished up this year with the Tahoe Rim Trail! Since we’ve already been to both borders, the most logical ending point for us is to finish on Mt Whitney (then zombie walk the final few miles to Walker Pass). This is a possible plan I’ll share with the group in the near future.
When we got to a break, I decided to risk talking to Bear. He said that he’s very goal oriented by nature. His first goal was to make it to Government Camp. Next goal was Sisters to have a zero day with our friends, John and Jenny. After that, he added a new goal of spending time in Bend, but the real goal was to make it to Crater Lake. But the crux of the issue, was that his real goal that he had set out for from the start, was to hike all of Oregon. When we made it to Ashland, it felt like he had completed his near term goal, but the stretch goal of Walker Pass seemed unachievable. If it wasn’t possible to make it to Walker Pass, why is he even hiking? Bottom line, the goal oriented person had no achievable goal to keep him moving (other than his goal to see me flying from a cliff which stood the remote chance of prison time IF someone were to report “Easily Forgotten” missing).
This was the opening I was looking for. I decided to talk about my alternative plan of skipping the Sierra and doing the Rim Trail. Bunny immediately disliked it because she wanted to hike the Sierra. Her disappointment was exactly what I was hoping for. Not to disappoint her, but because I knew that would be the driving force to get us back out here. Once it sank in a bit, she agreed it was the right thing. Bear, although reluctant to commit, agreed that this was a plan he could get his goals wrapped around given time to digest. We let it go at that for now.
The hike, itself, was gorgeous today. We’ve attained the ridge, or near enough to it, that we don’t have big climbs or descents. The views are great. There is a bit of a smokey haze hanging in some of the nearby valleys, but we know there aren’t any fires of immediate threat to us. We got an early start to the day and we were making great time. We had a working alternative plan that might get Bear back in the hike. At any rate, Bear has slowed down a bit and is walking with the pack again. Things are looking better. The time crunch is gone. We can relax and enjoy. What could go wrong?
This is when Sassy stepped up to the plate. It started out innocently enough. Her stomach started hurting. We got to a nice scenic overlook and she asked if any of us minded taking a break while she was holding her orange bag for all to see. For the unfamiliar, the orange bag is the bag Bear and Sassy share which contains a trowel, toilet paper, wipes, powder, all the accoutrements required for a pleasant trailside/campsite BM. Sassy was full of it.
A break is never frowned upon. Perhaps this is why we move so slow, but not one time in 50 days has one of us said “no, we don’t want a break. Clench you’re cheeks. We’re moving on.” We all happily dropped our packs whilst Sassy took care of business. She came back all smiles but admitted to a bit of frothiness in her stomach and asked for an Imodium. We offered to take a longer break, but she was ready to move on. She wanted to make it to the next water source in 4 miles for a lunch break.
We immediately started to climb from our break spot…up and over a couple of humps, sometimes steep. We wound our way over a couple of passes into adjacent valleys moving further south and into the heart of the Trinity Alps. As we were climbing out of a corner of the third valley we had been in today, Sassy’s frothy stomach started getting the better of her. We were in an exposed, rocky section of trail nearly 700’ above a lake. Sassy took her pack off and set it down on the edge of the trail and stood up straight. The pack started to roll…in slow motion…over the edge of the cliff. It nearly stopped several times, but didn’t. It disappeared from our sight.
I couldn’t decide if I should laugh or cry. We had heard of one girl, Dropsy, who dropped a sleeping bag and a tent off cliffs in a single day, but not her whole pack. Bear flipped out because he thought Sassy had fallen. It happened so fast even though we saw it in slow motion. Sassy yelled back in frustration and started heading down the trail to retrieve her pack. This is where I made the biggest mistake…I stopped her and started climbing down a side trail where I’d hopefully see her pack and be able to get it. I just assumed it had fallen down the rock scree 650’ below to the lake.
The trail down to the lake was the worst and steepest trail I have had the misfortune to traverse. It made the Whites of New Hampshire look level in comparison. I heard Bear a few hundred yards behind me and yelled he should get some hiking poles. He just kept coming down. By the time we got to the bottom, we realized what we thought was a single huge rock slide as it appeared from the top had actually split into a series of gullies and cliffs we couldn’t see from above. I started traversing over to the gully I thought the pack had fallen into. I was still 150’ above the lake.
There were two guys below that were watching us. Bear tried to yell to them what had happened and asked if they could see a pack that had fallen. I kept traversing and climbing without paying close attention to where I was actually getting to. Pretty soon, after climbing up a few slides and maneuvering around some boulders and rock shelves, I turned around to see where Bear was. He was now about 300’ below me. I had gotten myself into a precarious situation. I was below a 10’ shelf and couldn’t go up further. If I moved much, I stood a good chance of starting a rock slide that could injure or kill Bear. If I tried to go back down, I stood a very good chance of not only starting a rock slide, but being one of the lead rocks that gets buried. I froze. This is when I discovered I’m not an atheist after all. I started praying to the tree gods.
My only hope of making it out, without falling, was a sideways traverse back to the crappy trail through a manzanita patch. These were not healthy, 8’ tall full grown manzanitas, but young, frail 6” sprouts which one day hope to become manzanitas. I yelled down to Bear “abort.” He yelled up “agree” because, even though he was a couple hundred feet lower, he also realized he had rushed too far and found himself in a similar position, but only facing a 150’ fall to possible death. I had the front row to a 400’ plunge.
I prayed to the tree gods to either help me out alive, or make certain I have a quick death. I didn’t want a middle ground, limp away messed up, outcome. I was so far up that I was above the gullies so I had a straight traverse of just 300 yards to the crappy trail. This was the longest 300 yards of my life. I couldn’t stand because it was so steep, I’d surely start a slide. I crab crawled my ass across the side of the mountain.
As a side note, I hate being in the sun. All this was happening in full sun. I was overheating and sweating profusely. I was weak from my fear of heights. I was feeling stupid and resentful that I was about to die trying to save the tent poles for a Big Agnes tent I had been peeing on for the last 2 years. My only solace was that if I went down, they might forget about the pack making the tent useless. If I went down, we both went down.
The tree gods looked out for me. I made it across by dragging my ass over the loose rock and placing my hands on thorny plants and grabbing hold of the manzanita when I could. One of the guys was walking up from the trail and kept asking me if someone had fallen. Bear, in the mean time, had made it down to the other guy who was young, strong, and fearless. Bear convinced him to climb up the slide to look for the pack. From the bottom of the slide, the second guy beat me up the slide and across the cliff face only to end up about 100’ higher than me by the time I reached the trail. He didn’t see the pack.
I made the trail but was too tired to stand. Bear decided to head down to the lake shore while I crawled the rest of the way up to the PCT. By the time I made it back to Bunny and Sassy, I was a wreck. Bunny was excited and wanted me to follow her. She thought she might have found the pack. Bear was down on the shore waving his shirt saying he could see the pack. It had gotten stuck on the uppermost shelf above the rock slide only about 75’ down from the top. Bunny had found a “level” way to get to the shelf. I was nominated to retrieve the pack while Bear started his crawl back up.
The level shelf Bunny had found only looked level when you were looking down on it as compared to the rest of the slide. There was a small pine tree about 50’ down and the pack was about 25’ further down from it. Once again, I resorted to my tree god friend for help. I really didn’t want to die for a Big Agnes tent. Any other brand, maybe. But I felt guilt for having taken this long to get to this point. We were 2 hours into this ordeal which could have been over in 20 minutes if I hadn’t rushed down the side trail.
I slowly drug my ass down the slide and made it to the tree. Just a bit further and I’d be able to touch the pack. The pack had stopped because the a Big Agnes tent poles got hung up on a rock. I grabbed the pack and started scooting back up on my ass. It was a slow process and I was constantly afraid of the pack getting out of my control and falling further down the slide making us go through the whole process again. I managed to get it up high enough that I could hand it up to the shelf to Sassy. She was reunited with her pack. Bear was crawling up the trail and both women ran to him. I was still one shelf down from the trail, easily forgotten by everyone else now that the pack had been recovered.
Bear and I were super dry and managed to drink what water we had remaining. When I first grabbed Sassy’s pack, I checked for the water bottles hoping to get a drink. It turns out, the only thing missing from the pack were her two water bottles. Nothing else was damaged or hurt. Even her phone wasn’t hurt from all the tumbling.
We still had two miles to go to the next water source. I was thirsty and motivated, so I lead the group. Bunny was right behind me and pointed out that I had torn a couple of holes in the seat of my pants. The new pants Bunny made me get because I had torn a big hole in the other pair. The new pants I didn’t want to get figuring I’d just tear another hole in the ass. The new pants I hadn’t even had for 100 miles yet.
When we finally got to the water, we filled up what bottles we had, drinking a few liters in the process. It was too exposed to sit and have our lunch. It was already 4 and we hadn’t eaten yet. We decided to keep going to find a shady spot to eat.
Some new rules have been established, mainly around Sassy and cliff edges. Sassy must never approach the edge of a cliff. Sassy must take her pack off only in a level spot or on the higher side of the trail. Whenever Sassy puts her pack on, at least two people must be behind her to ensure she doesn’t fall or drop the pack down the side of a mountain. And, lastly, Bear must be sedated if Sassy wants to approach the edge of a cliff for a scenic view.
We made it to our camp by 6:45. Once we got our tents set up, the search for water began. It was much harder to locate than we expected. Bunny and I went one direction while Bear went the other. We circled back towards each other where I found a respectable, clear dribble in the middle of the meadow. Bear was not satisfied. He wanted the perfect water source. Bear disappeared looking for water.
Bunny and I cleaned up, cooked supper, filtered water, ate our appetizer, and finally ate our supper and Bear still hadn’t returned. As we were finishing up, Bear returned triumphantly sporting water directly from the source of the spring. It was perfect water. I asked, “are you going to filter it?” “Of course!” “Then how is it different than the water I found 100 yards from camp?” “This is perfectly clear water from the source!” “Drink it.” “I will as soon as I filter it.” We went to bed while Bear and Sassy filtered their perfect water and ate supper.
EFG