This morning, a short walk took us to the South Fork of the Kings River. The ranger note yesterday said, “do not cross here— way too dangerous. Walk upstream to where the trail crosses back over.” To my great relief, Bill agreed to follow the ranger’s suggestion. The Kings was obviously pretty deep and roaring fast. The walk up was very pleasant and easy and pretty, too. It isn’t steep and has a nice open feel to it, so we could admire the magnificent Sierra scenery.

Bill seemed to be feeling a bit better. We reached the foot of the pass (again, made very difficult by so much snow) and found quite a few other folks also heading up. Going up Mather is the steepest of all the passes, and very scary. Bill whizzed halfway up and sat there chatting with another hiker while I painstakingly “chopped in” every step I took with my faithful ice axe. I felt very bad about being so slow (Bill is always having to wait for me) but shortly after I reached the “breather” where Bill was, a young couple came happily climbing up the steps I had chopped, with the wife rejoicing at how easy it had been for her “with these nice steps.” I had been close to tears before, but that really cheered me up!

We got up and over the top, and carefully climbed down over snow and rocks, till we were at semi-frozen Palisade Lakes. There were cute little “baby icebergs” floating in the water. Then it was down the famous “Golden Staircase” with its huge rock steps. I yelped a little at each step down, because my poor knees were already so sore. As soon as we were down in the valley, we stopped and camped, completely wiped out. Bill decided to start taking Flagl— he may have giardia again.

Walk to Lórien: Reach the Guardroom junction in Moria

Had a solid night’s sleep, which really helped me today. Bill was also feeling perky and was talking about “maybe we can get over both Pinchot and Mather passes today!” (I thought, “I’ll settle for just Pinchot!”) We took turns crossing the narrow suspension bridge over Woods Creek. The walk up toward Pinchot along the creek was beautiful— wildflowers, whitewater cascades, and we met some JMT southbounders! But suddenly, Bill just “bonked.” He stopped, took off his pack, lay down on the ground, and said, “I feel awful.” From that point on, he would not eat (”I feel sick”) and could only go a little way before stopping again.

The approach to Pinchot Pass and the pass itself are tricky to find, but Bill knew them well from all his JMT hikes. We spotted two hikers heading the wrong way and tried to yell and signal to them, but no luck. We never saw them again.

Note from Alexa: Ack that sounds fairly ominous!

By lunchtime we were at the foot of the pass. Bill choked down a few bites, and drank Emer-gen-c with a liberal dose of GSE in it, while he studied the pass and strategized on a way up. Then it was time to put on the Microspikes, take ice axe in hand and climb straight up. This is still “terror time” for me, but I am getting better at it.

Hooray, we made the top, and down through more snow. When the snow thins, the creek crossings begin. I was doing ok with these, but then we came to a note left by a ranger “Please Read!” warning of two bad crossings ahead. He recommended the first one be crossed on a log 300 yards upstream, Bill said “humph!” and insisted at crossing at the regular place. I was terrified, but we made it, and camped early near the second “bad crossing”.

Walk to Lórien: Within Moria and Gollum begins following

It was very cold last night, and I should have taken some Motrin before collapsing into my sleeping bag, so I ached all over and couldn’t sleep. We spent time this morning still hunting for trail in the snow, and finally made it down to Vidette Meadows. Due to lack of sleep, I think, the “killer climb” out of Vidette just about did me in— I had to stop and rest several times, instead of just chugging on up. Also, we were “under the gun” timewise to make it over Glen Pass before it “iced up”.

Yesterday, we actually skipped a meal to save time, and we did it again today. When we reached the pass, again we pretty much went straight up, with occasional “breathers” on rocks sticking out of the snow. Then I could look around at the stupendous scene— snow-covered high mountains all around us, frozen lakes below, blue Sierra sky above. Then it was (for me) back to the “controlled terror” of a climb where if you slip, you are basically done for. I had already committed my personal safety to God’s care, and just concentrated on “the next step.”

Finally at the top! Whoop n’ holler time! Then came an even scarier, steep downhill. Fortunately, we were blessed with “perfect” snow to walk on, and made it down to Rae Lakes, where big fat trout hang out right by the shore. We made it across the “log jumble bridge” between the lakes and (still dealing with hunting for trail-in-snow) hurried on, aiming to camp at Woods Creek. On the way, we met another helpful ranger who had tips for us about Pinchot Pass up ahead. By 7:30pm we made it to Woods Creek, and collapsed into our sleeping bags.

Walk to Lórien: Enter the Doors of Moria after being attacked by the Watcher in the Water

This was a long, tough, amazing day— we made it up and over Forester Pass! After fording Rock Creek (no problem) we made the long uphill/downhill to Crabtree Meadows with its gorgeous views of Mt. Whitney. After that came the first of many scary creek crossings. Bill goes first and I watch very carefully to see where the worst of the current is. Then I cross, leaning into my trek poles, facing the river, sidestepping across. If I start feeling overwhelmed, I yell for help and Bill comes back to give me a hand. Tyndall Creek was the worst— pretty scary, and thighdeep on me.

As we climbed higher, more and more often the trail disappeared under snow. Finding it again took a lot of time, and usually when we did find it, the trail itself had become a creek. Near the foot of Forester Pass, we met a helpful ranger lady, who pointed out the best route (”Straight up!”) and warned of postholing problems— she had just had to dig herself out of one, it was so bad. We needed that advice, because shortly after, I postholed hipdeep and my foot was instantly “frozen in” as if set in concrete. Scary! I used my ice axe to dig out, but it took quite awhile. We pushed on up, Bill lightly climbing up the snow, me chopping steps with my ice axe.

Note from Alexa: Hmm perhaps Bill needs the new trail name “Legolas”

We were encouraged to hear the whooping and cheering of two hikers who were ahead of us, when they reached the top. By 6:00pm we were there, too, and then it was a race to get down before dark, over snow that was rapidly becoming icier. But whew, made it to an “official” campsite, high up, that had dry ground! What a day!

Walk to Lórien: Attacked by Wargs in a barren country of red stones near the Sirannon

No clouds this morning! We hoisted our horribly heavy packs and headed for Diaz Creek— we needed water. But we were so distracted with admiring the scenery and spotting “old friend” landmarks from our day hikes in the Cottonwood Pass area, that we missed the unmarked trail to the creek. Oh well— we decided to ration water and go for Chicken Spring Lake. Snow on the trail was never a problem, but we noticed plenty on the mountains around, and also a lot of snow cornices.

After lunch and a rest at Chicken Spring, we did get to climb over a snow cornice on the trail, but it wasn’t bad. We were pretty excited to think that now we really were entering the High Sierras. We marched happily along the miles of downhill toward Rock Creek, and just before we reached it, there was a note tacked to a post, inviting the hikers over to the summer rangers house for food. We went for it, and though we were disappointed to find the “food” was an almost empty “hiker box”, we did get to see inside the cute ranger cabin.

Back ontrail, a discouraging development— a young couple heading south after turning back at Forester Pass. That really worried me. We made a nice camp near Rock Creek, though, and the mosquitoes weren’t bad.

Walk to Lórien: Redhorn pass of Caradhras blocked by snow