Thurs. August 18            Miles today: 19.1      Total so far: 1,657.6

This was one tough day, starting first thing in the morning.  Everything that could go wrong decided to “go for it.”  Sigh.  The “kickoff” was that either the alarm did not go off at 5:00 am or else I didn’t hear it, so we didn’t wake up until 6:15!  Bill was the one who woke up first, and shook me awake.  “Monty, wake up!  It’s broad daylight already!”  Oh no!  That meant a whole hour of hiking lost already.  We decided to eat breakfast immediately, to save time.  (The reason we usually eat after hiking for awhile is that when we first get up, it’s generally too COLD to be eating a cupful of COLD granola!)

After that, I was finishing the packup chores while Bill headed into the woods to “go to the bathroom.”  As usual, he took his walking stick and the toilet paper.  As soon as he got back, we put our packs on and got ready to go, when Bill said, “Oh no!  Where’s my stick?”  It turned out that he’d accidentally left it “up the hill somewhere” but he couldn’t remember where he’d gone.  So we took off our packs and spent half an hour searching for the stick, because it was precious to both of us.  It’s the one Bill had found by the trail in Oregon, that had a Bible verse on it.  But all our running around and looking was in vain.  We could not find the stick, and had to painfully conclude we would have to just let it go.  All we could hope was that maybe somebody else who needs a good stick would find it someday.  So we began our day’s hike feeling very sad and gloomy.

From where we were camped, it was a nice downhill, but then came what the guidebook nervously called “a killer climb.”  Well, it wasn’t much of a killer.  Sure, it was a 2,000 foot elevation gain, but it was all nice easy switchbacks.  We got some great views of the REALLY HIGH country where we’ll be hiking in a day or so.  Then came another nice downhill to very green Gomez Meadow.  The guidebook said there werer old Basque carvings on some of the trees there.  I wish we could have looked at them, but we were hurrying, trying to make up for all the time we’d lost early this morning. 

There was no water available right beside the trail today; every time we needed to fill water bottles, we had to go a quarter mile or so offtrail to get it.  But the side trails to water were clearly marked with cute little wooden signs, and the water sources were very nice–sort of set up for “horse people”.  My pack still felt horribly heavy and was so uncomfortable that I made some adjustments to the straps so that it would “ride” better.  It can be a bit hard being my own “horse”! 

We continued climbing higher and higher and got fantastic views of valleys below, while the cliffs and rocks got taller and taller.  At one point, the PCT went very close to the eastern edge of the Sierras and we could look WAY down to alkali pink Owens Lake.  We stopped at one of the horse people camps for a nice lunch, and according to my very quick calculations, we were doing very good mileage.  That cheered us up quite a bit.  But around 3:00 pm, something seemed to go very wrong.  The trail we were on no longer seemed to “fit” the maps or guidebook description.  Had we somehow missed a turn and ended up on the wrong trail?  Very puzzled and worried, we turned around and started hiking back, trying to figure out where we were.  But we could not see any “side trails”, and after some time,  we spotted a PCT emblem high up on a tree,  facing in a direction that only a SOBO hiker would see it.  Whew!  At least we knew we were on the PCT after all, but WHERE?  So we sighed, turned around, and headed back the way we had come until the sun went down.  We had seen no more PCT emblems, and could only hope we were doing the right thing.  I was hiking along feeling very miserable.

Since daylight was about to run out on us, we two very confused hikers set up camp on a very pleasant evening, wondering, “Where are we?”  It was a weird ending to a strange day.  All we could do was ask God for His help and wisdom tomorrow, and pray for some way to know where we were! 

Wed. August 17          Miles today: 20.4         Total so far: 1,638.5             Sierras Section G

Well, we should have put up the tarp last night, because we woke up to a clear, chilly, DEW-Y morning.  The tops of our sleeping bags were soaking wet!  Oh well, we could dry them at lunch time.  So off we went, very excited, under cloudless (hooray!) skies, and it wasn’t far to the South Sierra Wilderness boundary.  “Oh boy, this is it!” I thought to myself.  First off was a climb to the hiker bridge over the Kern River, which was roaring quite furiously.  Bill was impressed with the enormous I-beams supporting the bridge.  I was impressed with how deep and fast the water was, and started being a bit worried about the bridgeLESS river crossings that lay ahead of us.

Awhile later, as we travelled through a forested area, we found several miles of trail were just hopping with dozens of tiny frogs!  They were everywhere, and it was really hard not to step on them.  We had to slow down a bit in order to avoid squishing a frog.  Meanwhile, we were discussing our bear can situation and hoping the horsepackers would be able to help us out.  Then surprise–who should we meet but a PCT SOBO, headed for Kennedy Meadows.  He told us that from there, he would head back north to do Oregon and Washington.  And he said there were MORE “Sobos” behind him.  After we’d all headed out our separate ways, I suddenly thought, “Sobos don’t need their bear cans anymore!   Maybe….hmmm!”  Sure enough, half an hour later, along came a PCT Sobo girl.  “This may sound crazy,” I said to her, “but would you consider selling us your bear can?”  She lit up like a Christmas tree with joy and relief, and couldn’t get the can out of her pack fast enough!  For a second, we almost thought she was going to pay US to take it off her hands.  We knew the cans were worth $70-80 new, but she said $20 was plenty.  What a deal!  Then along came her girlfriend, who was equally thrilled to get rid of HER heavy can.  The cans really are a pain–heavy, bulky, awkward and annoying.  So now we were all fixed up with a bear can each–nowhere near enough to hold all our food, but enough to avoid ranger fines.  I thought our packs were horribly heavy before, but now, mine was so heavy and awkward with the bear can in it, that Bill had to help me get it on.  But despite the heavy weight, we fervently thanked God for providing us clueless, unprepared thruhikers with a bear can each, at just the right time, with no need to hike offtrail to the horsepackers.  It was AGAIN His perfect timing that we have seen over and over again on this trail!

Hiking on, we reached pretty Beck Meadow and had our first view of real High Sierra peaks.  In the meadow, there was a lot of evidence of cows, and finally we spotted them, looking very glossy, fat, and happy!  Thee was a cowboy camp on the far side of the meadow, while the PCT stayed on the opposite edge, winding around next to the forest.  Finally we reached the bridge over the South Fork of the Kern River, and found a warning sign that the river water was not safe to drink, thanks to the cows.  No problem–there were plenty of streams ahead of us.  But the river was so pretty that we stopped to rest a bit and had fun watching the swallows that were nesting under the bridge and the many trout that were hanging out in the water below. 

Then we pushed on for a late lunch at the next “good water” creek, followed by a climb up into Cow Canyon.  The guidebook warned that the many cow paths there made it difficult at times to follow the PCT.  No kidding!  Again we found ourselves “beating around” trying to locate the trail.  What made it especially hard was that our packs were so ghastly heavy, and we were basically trying to go UPhill.  Finally I told Bill that if he would guard the packs, I would go “trail-hunting”. (Usually I am good at this, and I did succeed this time, too.)  Running around with no pack was way easier, and finally I located a trail junction and a PCT emblem.  Hooray!  I ran back to Bill, and we were on our way again.  The PCT here was occasionally marked with carved and painted posts–I wish there were a LOT MORE of them!   And I was frustrated by the delay.  We had hoped to get in pretty decent miles today.

The rest of the day was up, up, up, often through areas that were green and pretty, but it did get tiresome having to push through all those plants.  We hiked as long as we could, up to a 10,540 foot elevation forested saddle, where we had to stop because the sun was almost gone.  As quickly as we could, we prepared for a COLD night, and wished we’d done better mileage.  It was a tough trail, plus we had to deal with the frogs and with being lost.  One of the PCT Sobos we met today warned us that the Sierrras were by far the toughest part of the PCT.  I figured we were beginning to get a taste of that.  But like a bright shining light of encouragement even though we were tremendously tired was the way the Lord had provided the bear cans for us.  We were VERY grateful!