Meadow below Forrester to Upper Rae Lake over Glen Pass (11,924’). 10.5 miles. 2476’ elevation gain. Sleep at 10,548’.
I slept well last night until midnight when a group of five
PCT hikers arrived at midnight, talking loudly and shining their headlamps in
my eyes. After enduring annoyance for some painful minutes, I broke down to yelling
at them to be quiet. Finally they did. This morning I see that they “cowboy
camped”, meaning without a tent, all lined up like hot dogs in a fry pan to
stay warm together. Their sleeping bags were all covered in frost. Pillsbury
was wiping down her tent on the inside from frost, and I had pitched my tent
under the overhang of a tree’s limbs so I didn't have frost buildup.
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| Cowboy camping PCT hikers all lined up and covered in frost |
We made breakfast, broke camp, and were hiking by 6:45am. I
still very much enjoyed my conversations today with Pillsbury, and we never
seemed to run out of interesting material, from my life to hers, to all around
the globe in subject matter. Pillsbury has a Master’s Degree in Engineering
Physics, so we can talk easily with our engineering backgrounds and many common
interests.
She had an interesting experience on the PCT thus far. In
the desert of Southern California she began having abdominal pain. Finally she
called for emergency support on her cell phone (when she got in range) and made
her way to a highway crossing where a Sheriff picked her up. She was taken to
the hospital, whereupon she had her appendix removed! This put her into a
6-week off-trail recovery at home in San Diego, until starting on the trail again
just a few days ago. She is getting her “hiking legs” back now, which is great
for me since she “only” is doing 16 miles a day!
We hiked along through stunning Budd Creek drainage and
meadow. The mosquitoes got more intense as we descended in elevation to the
forest floor. The difficult thing then became the steep switchback climb out
again on the north side of Upper Vidette Meadow whereupon the mosquitoes swarmed
us. Pillsbury is fairly allergic to them, and hikes with full long sleeve
shirt, long sleeve pants, gloves, and sun hat – probably to protect from these
hungry critters and to protect from the daily harshness of the sun. She doesn’t
use sunscreen, she’s pretty much fully covered. We still had to stop for her to
use some bug repellent, and then race up the steep canyon wall.
In the sunny open meadow at the top we came to the trail
junction where Pillsbury needed to leave the trail (my way of a 7 mile
out-pass: Kearsarge) to Bishop for her PCT resupply. All PCT hikers must
carefully plan each food “drop”, watching that the food sent to that location
is the correct quantity for the next leg of “carry”, and they hope to find a
food resupply location that isn’t so far from the PCT trail. This out-trail
isn’t one of those close ones for her (7 or so miles out, 17 miles hitch-hiking
to Independence, then another 30 or so miles hitchhiking to the bigger town of
Bishop). She’s very clever: she already has a sign written on Tyvek
(lightweight waterproof strong paper) that says “Hiker to Town,” ready to hold it
out when she gets to the road.
We had lunch under a tree in the shade, as it was now noon
and the sun was boring down. It was a pleasant lunch, but I could tell that
neither of us wanted it to end, to have to say goodbye. Of course, we must move
on, so she departs headed East, and I leave headed North towards Glen Pass
(11,924’).
Glen Pass is known to be steep and challenging, and another
snowfield greets you to provide another challenge going down off the north
side. I met another PCT hiker along this section, as we both stopped at a
stream together to get water. I had already learned much from Pillsbury. A PCT
hiker does not carry loads of water in the Sierras, as water occurs quite often
at lakes and streams. Water is heavy! A quart weighs 2#, and it is very
noticeable to be 2# lighter. We stop often for water now, every hour or so,
which affords also a small rest stop on these intense climbs.
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| PCT Hiker "Pippin" at Glen Pass, looking South |
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| Me at Glen Pass, looking North |
The PCT hiker I meet then at the water stop is “Pippin”, as
in Merry and Pippin from Lord of the Rings. She is a recent (May) graduate from
college, 22 years old, and very interested in public land management. She’s a
lovely soul, and we enjoy conversation all the way to Glen Pass and down to Rae
Lakes below. At Glen Pass she commented, “That is reputed to be such a
difficult Pass! But it was incredibly easy with you to talk to!” I felt the
same; it’s one step after another and also interesting to hear these people’s
stories. Pippin hopes to get to Canada by October 15th, and now that
her best friend (Merry, from Lord of the Rings!) left the trail recently (this
happens very commonly, only a fraction of those who set out at the Mexico
border make it to the Canada border, for obvious reasons), she is now a solo
hiker. She and I enjoyed conversation about India, the high Himalayas, and I
learned that she has met the Dali Lama in Northern India and also carries with
her a picture of Ganesha on her journey. Ganesha is known “to remove all
obstacles”, a personal favorite of mine, too! Isn’t it great who Divine Mother
puts in my Path? I am amazed again at meeting another young, confident, spunky
young woman doing the PCT solo.
I contemplate the fact that Divine Mother puts these two
wonderful souls along my course of life yesterday and today. I’ve often thought
of hiking the PCT, and have wondered if I have what it takes to do it. The PCT
hikers are a family out here, and they take in to this collective family other
hikers so that it is a warm and caring trail community where everyone takes
care of others. I found myself feeling grateful for meeting these people and becoming
part of their camaraderie, if only for a short duration of their long march.
Even this seems to feed me more joy.
I found a campsite for myself at Upper Rae Lake at about
4:30pm, and pitched my tent behind a large rock under a tree to be protected
from the wind (more wind equals more wind flapping noise from the tent all
night long, though I am not worried about the lack of strength of my little
one-pound tent). There were a fair bit of mosquitoes here, too. As soon as the
tent was up my next objective was to have a bath (no soap, basically scrubbing
as best as one can in the lake), and clean my clothes as well so I don’t start
getting really stinky. I wear the same clothes every single day, with one
change of undies and socks. I have one very lightweight fleece, one medium
fleece, and one very lightweight “puffie” (down sweater, weighing just six
ounces), a lightweight wind jacket and wind pants, fleece pants for sleeping
and for cold mornings, and I hike in the same shorts and wool tank top every
day. Black shorts, bluish-purple top. Life is simple!
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| Rae Lake at my campsite, looking towards Glen Pass |
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I gather my things and head to the lake. I must have doubled-back on the main PCT trail, for I had no idea that when I took off all my clothes to wash up I soon discovered that I was about two feet off the main PCT trail! Eeeek! How did I discover? Two hikers walked by. I said, “OH! SORRY!” and I crouched down nearer to the water, as though that presented some meaningful way to “hide”. They pretended as though they never saw all that pink flesh, and walked on, not saying a word. I hastily finished up so that I could put on some clothing to continue the clothes-rinsing-out-and-agitating-in-the-presence-of-water process. I walked back up to my camp, hung the wet clothes in a nearby pine tree, and proceeded to make dinner, wearing only my puffie, wind jacket and wind pants, hiking cap (that is permeated in the cotton fibers with natural mosquito repellent), and a mosquito net over my head. They don’t seem to bother my hands or ankles, so I seem to be ok to cook and eat.
How can you beat this? I am relaxing, looking at the Painted Lady peak that frames itself behind beautiful Upper Rae Lake. The sun is casting low again, giving everything all around this place that dramatic evening hue. The lake reflects the glistening beauty. I merely need to heat water, re-hydrate my food that I had prepared earlier at home and dehydrated myself, and happily sit to watch the canvas of Divine Mother’s painting go through the evening parade of colors.
My one spoon stirs my meal. My one spoon feeds me. I lick it
off and the dishes are done. I roll up the freezer-ziplock-bag my food was
stored in (that was also my bowl to eat out of), and put it in another zip-lock
bag that now holds the trash. Done!
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| My tent down there below the rock, and my kitchen |
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| My clothes hanger |
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| As the sun sets, in my rain jacket |
My clothes won’t be dry until sometime tomorrow, so I need
to be creative as to what to wear to bed tonight. I realize, looking at this
stunning natural beauty, the face of God all around me. It is becoming clear to
me that I won’t want to hike out this Friday as planned. I re-examine my
carefully planned food allocations (in neat zip-lock bags, labeled for each
meal), and decide to take something from each day’s food from tomorrow until
Thursday to create a new food day for next Friday afternoon/evening and
Saturday morning, giving me one more day in the wilderness. Quite honestly,
making the coffee stretch farther than it is allocated is my biggest concern in
this process!
Having hiked with Pillsbury and having gotten over Forrester
Pass sooner than I had originally projected means that I am now about 2 days
ahead of my schedule. What shall I do with that extra time? Slow down? Go
farther? Find side trails to explore? I head to bed with these thoughts on my
mind, again asleep at about 9:00pm to beat the darkness, having no flashlight.
The world is good, the sky is blue, the birds are singing, and so is my eternal
soul.
Affirmation that strikes me today:
I go forth in the
Power of the Omnipresent Good, to bring me what I need, at the time that I need
it.
Painted Lady Peak and lake are stunning!
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