Absolutely lovely staying with Judy again but time to go further into the snowy High Sierras. In Lone Pine a local bumped into us and gave us a “blessing” to send us safely on our way, this was followed shortly afterwards by a gift of $100 to help us as well. We finally got a hitch up to Horseshoe Meadow by a fantastic guy (40 mile round trip to drop us off) who works for an environmental non-profit organisation (he finally agreed to do it when he heard we were Kiwis – his colleague is from NZ and would not have been happy to hear he hadn’t helped us). A huge thumbs up to “Landslide”, a PCT hiker from 2014, for making our day.

We crossed the meadow, totally snow covered with snow bridges across the creeks. Climbed back up a steep gully and back onto the trail proper. 7kms from the car park we finally stopped, we’d walked through snow the entire way, had a few hail showers but camped in sunshine directly on the trail in the only flat snow free space available. Nice spot between high snow banks. We hoped that it wouldn’t be like camping in a refrigerator. Dinner, cooked away from our tents, bear barrels sealed and Bear bag hung from a tree and off to bed. Unfortunately Grant was again not feeling well, we were again at altitude and he wasn’t coping.

Next morning it was certainly cold but surprisingly dry, even the tent fly was frost free. No bacon and eggs for breakfast, just peanut butter wraps and coffee. Left at 7am, Grant still crook but we continued into the mountains. Very slow going even with microspikes. Climbed up and over 11600 feet (3500m), our highest altitude yet. The scenery was fantastic, snowy covered meadows, mature pine forests with snow underneath, Marmots, Squirrels, Chipmunks, all flavour of birds – just wonderful! The only downside to the wilderness experience was the constant loud rumble of fighter jets buzzing the area all day – America is definitely at war – our quietest day saw only a dozen planes overhead, the worst day we counted over 30 sorties.

We managed to do 12.5 miles (20kms) but it was hard going. Back down to 9600 feet (3000m) to camp, lovely spot to put up the palace. Was drizzling when we arrived but suddenly the sun came out as we pitched the palace. Camped by our first potential larger river crossing. The next morning it was again cold but dry. The river crossing was uneventful, microspikes on and across a slippery log keeping the feet nice and dry. In fact, its boots and microspikes all day everyday at the moment. 90% of the trail is covered in snow making for difficult navigation unless you want to follow other footsteps which can be both helpful and a curse if those in front of you can themselves navigate.

Unfortunately Grant was getting worse each day. By Whitney Creek we began the discussion about exiting at the next opportunity. Easier said than done. We managed only 7 miles today (11.2kms) and camped just pass the turn-off to the Whitney Portal at 10600 feet (3250m) again next to the snow drifts in a tiny clear area. Dinner and coffee, the usual bear barrel and bear bag hanging ritual before bed. Grant off to bed early, not very well at all. The decision tomorrow morning will be between continuing or bailing. Carrying on the 7 miles to the base of Forester Pass, up and over the pass, up and over Kearsarge Pass and hopefully out at Independence to re-supply. Or, 2 days out over Trail Junction at Mt. Whitney and back to Lone Pine.

Grant still not well in the morning. Very disappointing to miss a chance at Forester Pass (the highest point on the PCT) and complete the section but not the wisest option with someone with what appears to be an altitude related illness. With heavy hearts we changed direction and walked towards the base of the climb up to the Whitney trail saddle. In fact the saddle is even higher than Forester Pass and potential more technically demanding but would only take 2 days. The other route in Grants condition could take us 4 days. Only 6 miles today but super hard work in the softening snow and the ever increasing altitude. To add insult to injury the weather has also changed so that it’s super hot. We managed to camp on a rock outcrop sticking out of the snow in the basin before the climb.

Breathtakingly beautiful in the snow bowl plus with the added view of numerous mountains we could now almost look down upon. The photos certainly do not do it justice. We camped at 11,500 feet (3500m) and apart from a very brief late afternoon shower the weather was stunning. At one point in the afternoon it was 28 Celsius degrees in the shade. We spent a surprisingly comfortable night on our little rock outcrop. The alarm went off at 4am, we needed to start climbing early before the potential for snow melt. Tent again surprisingly dry, a quick snack, everything packed and off we went just after 5am when it started becoming light.

Crispy under foot for the climb up to what the map said was a series of zig-zags up the mountain. In reality only the first zig was any use, the remainder of the climb was straight up on a very steep snow bank. Using the footsteps of previous climbers (those intending to climb Mt. Whitney had passed by our tent in the very early hours of the morning in the dark), we inched up the snow bank. Anna had the ice axe, Grant and I only our poles with snow baskets. Scary would be an understatement, this was mountaineering, one slip would see you falling 100’s of meters, bouncing over jagged rocks to eventually land quite dead, or worse, severally injured back at the base of the bowl below. But the views were stunning, the experience exhilarating – this was truly an adventure of epic proportion.

We summitted, at last a flat area to rest weary legs. We sidled around to the top of the saddle and now faced an even bigger challenge…..going down an even longer snowy slope that appeared even steeper than the one we’d climbed. Oh shit! The sun had been on this side for a few hours already, the snow was getting slushy, we were already a bit buggered and only had one ice axe between us. Anna in particular didn’t think much of the adventure on the way up, she certainly wasn’t super keen on doing the downhill. We had no option but to continue, so over the lip we went and descended the snow bank – 600 meters of almost vertical snow bank, the map showed a series of zig-zags, these were covered in meters of snow. The saddle sat at 4122m – shit! that’s higher than Mt. Cook back home (NZ’s highest peak).

Two hours later, we eventually made it down. Anna inched down backwards like descending a ladder using the steps created by those climbing up the slope. I managed to go down by the walking down the steps. Enough said about that. At the end, Anna slid down the remaining 100 meters on her butt as she was wearing her rain pants, I slid down as well totally soaking my undies, long johns and shorts. Was worth it! Took no time at all to dry given the high temps we met on the way down the rest of the mountain. Another 8 miles (12.9kms) of steadily melting snow and a final section of dry snow free trail saw us get to the shop and carpark at Whitney Portal. Woohoo! What an accomplishment!

Grant survived the up and over, weakened by days of little food, Anna certainly had a new experience that I’m sure she will remember for many years to come and I had a pretty wonderful time. Apart from the fear and anguish of the mountaineering required to exit over the portal, I think we made the right decision to exit as we did. We eventually got a lift from a lovely couple from Reno who took us to the Pizza place in Lone Pine. John from Elevation Outfitters was really very kind to take us to Judi’s place (15mins from Lone Pine in Alabama Hills) in the early evening during a break from work – thanks John! And so we were back “home” again.

Next up is deciding what we’re going to do next……the huge snow year in the Sierras coupled with the sudden change to mid-summer temps means we need to decide whether to skip forward up the trail somewhere northward…..where would we skip to? Check out the next blog post to find out.

The second little twist was my visit to the Emergency Department at Lone Pine on the same day. I’d started getting pains in the area around my Appendix mid-morning while walking out to the road-end. By the time we got out the pain had worsened, after 2 hours waiting to get a hitch it was even worse. The ride down the winding road to get off the mountain made things even worse to the point where I was particularly pale and in a lot of pain (“or green” added by Anna). The driver took us directly to the tiny hospital where I went through the admission process, had my insurance checked and filled in the numerous forms before getting assessed.

I must confess that I felt incredibly uncomfortable to be asked on the form my race. I originally crossed it off the main form then was provided with another form outlining the options; black, hispanic, white etc…, to receive treatment I had to fill it in. I consider this to be institutionalised racism, they believe this to be normal and acceptable. The pain could have Kidney Stones, Appendicitis or even a pulled muscle or for that anything.

I had to slip into a hospital gown, give a urine sample and had a Canular inserted to take bloods. Some questioning, prodding around the effected area and other places, and urine and bloods results later and it was clear I did not have Appendicitis. I couldn’t continue the PCT if that had been the case so I was very much relieved. After a few hours I was released with some pain meds and told to drink more water. The care was really professional, the people were lovely and it was overall a very positive, yet novel experience.

I’ve now tramped another 5 days since the abdominal pain issue and I’m fine. Next up, snow, altitude and big decisions…….

First and foremost on getting a WiFi connection in Lone Pine at the end of the last section was the news that my Dad had passed away. He’d been bed-ridden for over a year and lived in the hospital wing of a Retirement Village back home in New Zealand. His battle with Cancer finally came to an end on 1 June 2019, 26 days short of his 91st Birthday. I’d visited him weekly for the year or so he was in the hospital and had said my goodbyes before leaving for the PCT. We had discussed the fact it was highly unlikely I would race back to New Zealand for the funeral as I would be spending so much time in the wild without communications. He had jokingly said it didn’t bother him as he’d not be there to notice.

One of the things you get plenty of time for when walking long distance trails is time to think. Long distance trails are similar to our lives, we start at the beginning, unsure how things are really going to work, you have ups and downs, good days and not so good days, make friends along the way, have trail families (if that’s your thing) and eventually you make it to the end, or wherever you end up finishing. Trails, as in life, is about making the best of everyday no matter how things are playing out, if you’ve got to climb that mountain, do it slow and steady and really enjoy the view from the top.

I feel Dad had a pretty full life, born just before the Depression in the Netherlands, lived through the occupation during the second World War, spent a couple years in Indonesia with the Dutch Army and then eventually emigrated to New Zealand. Later married to another Dutch immigrant and had a family, in fact he ended up supporting the upbringing of almost two families after he remarried. He was successful in business, a staunch church member and a very smart academic eventually teaching students at Polytechnic and University.

I’m a bit bummed at not being there for the family to help with the funeral arrangements and be there for the send-off but that wasn’t possible given my current travels. Thanks to the family for coming together and giving him a good send-off.

Bye Dad, I’m glad you’re not suffering anymore.

Brenda dropped us off at the Overpass where we had finished the section before our Zero Days in Tehachapi.

With heavy packs, food for 5 days and 3 liters of water we started waddling (it really feels like waddling to me) and surprise: the first few miles of this section is part of the movie ”Wild”. Cheryl Strayed had set out on her 1000 mile journey from Mojave exactly on that spot and I bet that woman had waddled here, too, when she walked along that busy highway.

We must have climbed the first hill in the heat of the day, great planning from our side here. It was a hard climb not because the track was hard but the packweight slowed us down while we puffed past beautiful Joshua Trees and baron land.

And then the scenery changed into pine trees, alpiny scrubs, heathers and green meadows – and the weather changed as well from sunny to overcast and nope, we didn’t make it to our planned destination that day. Tired, we set camp, cooked dinner, listened to wind gusts and fell asleep.

Woke the next morning to rain. The big unusual weather system over the Pacific had started to roll in. We all huddled under our 3 person tent while having breakfast and set out with rain jackets, umbrella, and Tyvek rain-fashion.

Oh so cold with all the wind gusts and low clouds, alien landscapes in the mist and the creepy sound of wind turbines hidden in the clouds, only a few meters away from us.

When the rain cleared we had done 15 miles, and the next hill to climb was covered in a thick dark cloud in front of us. Wise decision, we stopped early in a beautiful lush forest sheltered from the wind, dried tent and tarp and warmed up with food and naps. Yet again we hadn’t reached our must-do-mileage. Oops.

FREEZING. The wind was sharp as a knife on the skin in the morning the next day. As we climbed back on over 6400 feet we passed frozen landscape. The leaves of trees and bushes were frozen, water drops had stopped dripping and hung like little tears on the bushes. Grass was white and we walked through forests. Spooky, but so pretty, and man…so cold. Again we were freezing in the Mojave Desert.

It must have been the prettiest section (for me) so far on the PCT when the weather cleared and we descended into a bowl like, sourrounded by hills, valley, definitely bear country, random rock formations, a clear stream, green plants and Squirrel Galore for our entertainment.

Today we had to do the miles so we ended up walking just under 25 miles (ca.40ks), descended back into a valley, found a huge water cache and bottled up, had dinner and walked the last 2 miles to a sheltered campsite and ‘tent city’. Everybody else tried to hide from the howling wind at the same place. No snoring in the night though.

I was starving during the night, but we were behind schedule and this is when I realise I am food anxious. Counting through the food that’s left I got even hungrier. ‘Oh, I would so eat that big pizza now…or ice cream..or yoghurt…hmm pancakes!’ If only….

Lucky day! ‘The trail provided’. The sun was out, short day planned due to a big climb the day after, passedthe 1000ks mark, it was a Saturday, and 2 groups of trail angels had accidentally picked the same spot and day to do trail magic. And here it was: pancakes, salad, fruit, veggies, donuts, water, sodas, ooooh it was heaven and ooooh I felt so so sick after eating or binge-eating for hours. Lesson learned. Promised!

Back to 7000 feet to climb up to, howling wind, freezing faces, frozen hair, spring weather, snow flakes, blue sky, then clouds, then low cloud and snow flakes again. Pretty! We found shelter in rustic McIver’s cabin (no not up to DOC standards!), had lunch and continued the final stretch down to Walker Pass. By the time we got to the road we were back in thicker snow flakes and thick low cloud and freezing temperatures. I tell you – public toilets are so so so cosy and warm, and dry, and oh so yummy when the weather is shite. 😉

We managed to get a lift down the hills, to civilisation, to the flat desert, got picked up by Laura, a local trail angel from Ridgecrest, just before the next rain. Got spoiled with real towels, hot showers, dinner and a bed. Awesome!