Day 57: Poison Creek Meadow - Wallace Creek (mi 747-770)

Smiles pokes her head out and greets the day from Poison Creek Meadow. 

We woke up early and I sprang out of bed for our final approach to Mt. Whitney. The bear hang was successful again, and I found the Tyvek sleeve for my stove stand/windscreen that had vexed me the night before. It was a chilly AM, but the robins were undeterred as they sang merrily about the morning meadow. We started a gradual climb off the bat which brought us sweeping views across big Whitney meadow to the west, with red and yellow foxtail pines contrasting greatly with the white granite, green meadows, and vibrant blue sky. Lenticular clouds were scattered across the sky like fraying white ropes. We saw the first alpine lake of the journey, chicken spring lake, tucked in behind a terminal moraine of a 12,000 foot ampitheater. A popular camp site, we saw Viking milling around smoking cigarettes and "making photos." We finished the climb and traversed around this western perimeter of the Whitney massif, stopping for a morning break along the way. Story time and Viking caught up with us, and we hiked with them for a good bit. We cruised on the divide west of Rock Creek, and happened upon Viking taking a break at the top of a small rise, smoking a cigarette and gazing east. My mouth dropped as I focused my attention in the same direction, towards Cirque Peak and the sawtooth ridge marching north towards Whitney. I had chills thinking that we were going to be up there within 18 hours. 

Meanwhile, Smiles was not so sure of our ability to execute our grand plan as originally outlined. Averaging 18 miles per day through the high Sierra, over the mountain passes, was an improbable task. Initially I was convinced we could do it with the low snows, but after reviewing the maps and literature during a long, hearty lunch next to a meadow and Rock Creek, I too doubted the plans' feasibility. We needed to cross multiple passes in a day, which was not exactly feasible or desirable. We hatched a new plan that delayed Whitney until after our social arrangements were lifted, and also pushed us on to Wallace Creek. The climb after lunch was miserable, both of us having gorged on macaroni and cheese to the gills. The climb was rather steep, too. My shin started hurting in a novel way, to boot, but we pressed on. The only pauses were involuntary, as we were awe struck by monolith after monolith, white with black shadows in the afternoon light. We finally saw Mt. Whitney, and I was struck with a minor pang of defeat as we turned north away from its approach. Another day... The deadlines and dreams that had been instrumental in getting us this far now seemed to be more of a burden, as we sped through the southern high sierras with hardly a backwards glance. However, no finite amount of time could be considered sufficient to soak in the beauty and grandeur of the region. Such is the plight of the thru-hiker, I determined. At best, there is nowhere to be in particular, but you have to keep moving into the great unknown. By the end of the day, it truly was unknown, as we descended by twilight to Wallace Creek with the granite fortresses on the skyline cloaked in the black of night, forcing us to wait another night before unveiling their beauty. We crashed that night, no dinner, beaten and cold. Thankfully there was a bear locker, so no hanging was necessary. I'm not sure we could have managed. 

Day 56: Gomez Meadow - Poison Creek Meadow (mi 727-747)

A view of the peaks visible from our campsite. 

A young buck grazed in Gomez Meadow. 

Pink flowers sprung out of the calico rocks - a profusion of life in the seasonally hostile alpine environment. 

Smiles and I pause for a photo with Gomez Meadow in the background.

Sweeping lenticular clouds above the ridges south of Mt. Whitney. 

Wide basins between the high ridgelines in the south Sierras.

Smiles gets some cell reception on a crag overlooking the Owens Valley.

Withered pines and granite sand were typical of the sub-alpine environments we observed south of Mt. Whitney.

What an incredible day - our first full day in the high Sierra. We slept in to reward our effort of the day before, as heat was no longer a menace. I went over to the bear hang and got goosebumps: the mountains that had been shrouded in backlit clouds the night before were unveiled by daybreak, and I saw a ring of 12,000 peaks expanding for miles from south, through the west, and extending north. 

The bear hang and boxes intact, we packed up and headed north and descended to Gomez meadow, where I saw a friendly deer grazing. It was a beautiful meadow.  We tanked up at a spring, then began our climb of the day. A 1,800 foot climb to 10,700 found us far less energetic than the day before, probably on account of not a big enough dinner. A scenic overlook to Owens Lake, some 5-6000 feet below immediately to the east, also yielded the discovery of cell service. We stopped, did the digital thing, then scooted another mile before lunch. The faulted granite blocks, sandy soil, and gnarled and whorled pine trees were dramatic. We carried on through breathtaking landscape until we reached poison creek meadow, which hung at the top of a valley at around 10,800 feet. The meadow was about 250 feet wide and a mile long, with two large peaks visible to the northwest. After dusk, no birds called out, and the wind died down leaving the calm quiet of the night to beckon us to sleep before our final approach to Mt Whitney early the next day.

Day 55: Kennedy meadows campground - 3 miles south of Gomez meadow (mi 704.5-727)

Off into the Sierra Nevada!

The Wolfpack taking a break and tanking up on water before the first climb of the day. 

Smiles moving swiftly with a fully-loaded pack up the first climb, admittedly through another burn area. 

Starfox, Rocky and T-Rex climb up through the burn. 

No naked hippies were observed after seeing this sign, though our eyes were peeled. 

Sour Cream puts his hand up next to some bear sign.

Everyone paused to take photos at the first meadow. 

The group all together in the South Fork Kern River drainage

Smiles working downhill to the lunch break. 

Jamming uphill on the second climb after lunch. Our last time at 7,000 feet for some time. 

Top of the climb! A beautiful, hanging meadow overlooking the Kern River drainage. 

Smiles continues walking towards camp in the softening evening light. 

Finally in the sierras! Potentially out of the cacti. After a fitful night of sleep brought on by too much caffeine, and the immensity of the sections at hand, we awoke to pull off a very hard section at a hard pace. We were going to break off from the wolfpack, again sadly, to hike to the base of Mt. Whitney in 3 days, 66 miles north with a good stretch of climbing to high elevations. Most hikers average 10-15 mpd in this stretch, making it a 4-5 day endeavor. We were not able to do so, much as we wished to with the wolfpack due to the wedding in mammoth, 204 miles north, in 12 days. We needed to do 22 mpd to reach Whitney, then average 17 mpd after submitting Whitney while climbing the mountain passes of the high Sierras. On top of this, we knew beforehand we weren't going to have the time to resupply in independence, bishop or lone pine, so we were laden with 12 days of food in our bear cans, which generated the heaviest packs of the trip. Mine weighed in at 47 lbs with half a liter of water and 4 beers when I left Kennedy meadows proper yesterday. 

After breaking the change of plans to our friends, all of us hiked on up the south fork kern river into the Sequoia NF South Sierra Wilderness. The forest still showed signs of the xeric climate, as cacti sporadically poked through the sand outcroppings in the generally more cohesive soil. We climbed away from the river around 6200 ' and started climbing up a dry tributary through a burn area. Even the burned areas were more beautiful, quipped T-Rex and Smiles independently. A solid climb up to 8000 feet or so put us back into the S Fork Kern proper's drainage in its wide, scalloped network of sage- and meadow-lined valleys. Actual grass that grew without being watered. We admired a bear-marked tree with sap-bleeding gouges along its side from the powerful ursine claws. We had a wonderful lunch at the river crossing with the wolfpack and approximately 12 other hikers. I did a little gopro time lapse setup, and observed a timid Sierra garter snake (thamnophis couchi) sunning itself on the sandbar. Directly from lunch, we started climbing from 7800 to nearly 11000 over the next 8 miles, steadily transitioning through all the zones between riverine scrub and alpine meadows. We sidled into camp just before sundown, and were treated to an ethereally backlit sunset behind the clouds and mountains across a wide glacial valley. Our bear hang successful, we split on a MRE snagged from a hiker box, rolled the bear cans to a safe spot, and hit the hay invigorated that the mountains were upon us and we were going to be able to achieve our goals. 

Day 54: Kennedy Meadows - Kennedy Meadows campground (mi 702-704.5)

Most of the day was spent dealing with our resupply logistics so that we could get to Mammoth Meadows, 205 trail miles north without including our planned ascent of Mt. Whitney, in twelve hiking days. Viking generously provided us with his extra food, and the rest of our meals were furnished from the bountiful hiker boxes. The logistics were quite difficult, as we were not able to fit all of our food into the newly-acquired bear canisters. Once in Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park, we would have to rely on bear lockers in addition to the canisters on our backs until we could cram everything into the 500-cubic inch Lexan containers. Somehow we managed to cram everything into our bags, and we finished up our computer chores on the slow internet connection at Tom's place. I ordered some new shoes to be delivered to Mammoth, and that was about it due to the slow connection. We slowly gathered our things as the afternoon heat waned, with Smiles and I planning on doing about 10-12 miles before dark. As we left Kennedy Meadows and arrived at the campground two and a half miles north, we decided to stick with the Wolfpack at least through Mt. Whitney and deal with the rest of the logistics thereafter. Back on trail together again, we had a mellow evening to the campsite and tucked in, happy to be with our friends.

Wall decorations at Kennedy Meadows

Sour Cream cozies up with a friendly pooch before we hit the trail. 

The Wolfpack gears up for the 2.5 mile walk to the Kennedy Meadows campground. 

The Kennedy Meadows General Store 

My pack weighed in at 47 pounds after being laden with 12 days of food and a bear canister. 

The 'cyber cafe' in a single-wide trailer at Tom's Place. 

The Wolfpack hits the road.

Smiles walks towards Kennedy Meadows campground.

Sour Cream on trail. 

Day 53: Kennedy Meadows zero

I didn't write much for yesterday's entry, as I was too overcome with emotion (and R&R) to be bothered to write. In a nutshell, getting to Kennedy Meadows required an early wakeup from Chimney Creek to climb up and out of the drainage before the heat (typical). We attained the top of the climb and were rewarded with a panorama that included the high Sierras off to the north. We were ecstatic, then began the long descent to the south fork Kern River floor. The whole area had burned massively, and we were in the full sun for quite some time. Somehow time just seemed to drag on, thanks in no part to my botched lunch operation, where I decided it would be a great idea to cook mashed potatoes with tomato bullion. The concoction was borderline inedible, and too hot to boot. For some reason, probably hypoglycemia, the lunch failure put me into a big funk. We pressed on, passed the Kern River, and reached the much-anticipated 700 mile mark. We stopped for longer than normal, took it all in - the sage meadow, the river valley, the mountains -  took our photos, then walked the longest two and a half miles on the trail to Kennedy Meadows. Once there, we made ourselves comfortable at the Kennedy Meadows General Store, the only establishment of any kind in town. Tom's Place, a trail angel establishment just down the road, was full of trailers, had the town 'cyber-cafe,' had a disc golf course, and was generally full of hiker trash. We had a great night of sitting on the patio, conversing with hikers and locals alike. All the Wolfpack was there, along with Viking, King Street, the Pacific Rest Trail team, and approximately four dozen other hikers. It was a complete madhouse, but luckily the Kennedy Meadows locals seemed to handle the invasion of their solitude as well as could be expected. A local even provided us with some beer, which we drank while listening to John, a different local who used to be a CIA field operative as far as I could tell, confusingly pass on his wisdom and ask the gentle Sour Cream whether he was "a fighter."

Our zero day at Kennedy Meadows was spent mostly lounging in the shade, as the shade was still 95 degrees. We hung out with hikers, for the most part, as the locals were becoming more and more restless with our presence.

Day 52: Chimney Creek - Kennedy Meadows (mi 678-702)

Trail magic in Chimney Creek. Why we did not indulge in soda or cerveza, I do not know. I will blame it on the early wakeup

We may still be in a burned forest, but our first glimpse of the high Sierras caused pause for celebration! Barely visible in the frame, but Smiles' face tells it all.

Indeed an exciting prospect. High Sierras. 

Smiles hikes west to the Domelands Wilderness and the South Fork Kern River. 

Domes! Actual, granite domes!

Smiles presses on across the valley floor towards Kennedy Meadows, with the Domelands in the background. 

Holy cow, an actual river! The South Fork Kern River is the biggest fluvial water body encountered yet on the trip. 

700. We made it! 

A shell-shocked Smiles takes it all in. 

Dr. Slosh is so happy he has a hard time keeping it gangsta at mile 700.

700 miles - only a few more on to Kennedy Meadows, then to the Sierra Nevada and beyond!

Walking in to Kennedy Meadows. Almost enough neck-beard growth to comb over the bald spot. 

Done with the desert! 

The end of the desert. 700 miles.

Day 51: Owens Peak Wilderness Ridge - Chimney Creek (mi xx-xx)

Stark, eastern-slope rock formations were nearly devoid of large trees as the mountains rose from the Mojave desert floor. 

Always a good discovery when the next water is 8 miles north, and it is heating up quickly. 

Smiles climbs out of the Spanish Needle Creek drainage after a long, hot, and generally unbearable siesta. 

Dusk hues south of Chimney Creek, taken on 

We had a nice early start, and continued the climb into dry Owens Peak wilderness. We had excellent views of Ridgecrest and Mojave desert to the east. After continuing over the saddle and down the other side, we saw that Joshua Tree spring was indeed unsafe to drink (as indicated on the water report), though no mention of uranium was made. We had just enough water to continue on and ended up between water sources during the heat of the day, with Smiles dramatically (and seriously) saying "if I die out here, don't say I was doing what I loved." We took a short rest break at the first Spanish Needle creek crossing to let smiles lose her heat-induced delirium, then slogged the last two and a half miles to lunch in the 100+ degree sun to reach the next water. It was a delicious, small spring that hosted every mosquito and biting fly in the area, so we tanked up and moved to a less-buggy area to wait out the heat. We found an alcove already occupied by Happy Hour and Squeaks, and cooked up a lunch. Some hours later, yet still earlier than we expected, we scooted off under the protection of cloud cover. A nice long climb and a fast ridge run through the pine forest led us to the Chimney Creek drainage around sunset. It was nice, as it had a decidedly Sierra-like feel with good sized granite boulders everywhere. We made camp on the side of the trail in a nice, sandy flat spot. I wandered a bit further down the trail to cook dinner, as we were now in bear country. It was delicious, and we slept well.