We were up long before the others and walked along Cascade Creek to  beautiful, green Tully Hole. Then it was a long grind of switchbacks and climbing up to Lake Virginia, where we were overjoyed to find an icefree lake and not-too-bad snow.  However (of course!) since the snow was melting nicely,  it meant that the whole area around the lake, including the PCT, was basically a bog.  Muddy, muddy!

We continued slogging on toward  Purple Lake.  The snow was enough to give us problems occasionally, but it wasn’t too bad.  A looong contour around a mountainside took us to a very scary (Slippery rocks!  Big dropoff just below the trail crossing!) ford of Duck Lake’s outlet creek.  I tried to do it and backed out.  “I’m going farther upstream,” I told Bill.  So while he crossed at the official ford, I walked a little way up and crossed there with no problem.  Just beyond that creek was a very pretty meadow with people and horses lounging around, as well as a very unhappy dog, who kept randomly barking and whining.  I’m not sure what his problem was.

The trail then spends many miles contouring through forests near the edge of a dramatic deep canyon with snowclad peaks beyond.  Every time there was a break in the trees, the views were awesome.  We met no other hikers till afternoon, and then there were lots of them.  First was a lost JMT’er (we set him straight and he was very grateful!), then a gang of newbie JMT’ers  (we wondered how they were going to handle the challenges ahead of them) and then, to our great amazement and delight, sitting by the trail was Scott “Buck Larceny”, a fellow thruhiker from the PCT in 2005!  He was doing the JMT with his girlfriend “Tango”.  We had a very joyful reunion, and took pictures of each other before heading our separate ways.

Bill had been figuring we wouldn’t reach Red’s Meadow till late in the day, but before we knew it, we were down into the “burn zone” and Red’s Meadow.  As we turned off the PCT, we could hear the sound of a farrier’s hammer at the corral, and sure enough, he was busy shoeing a horse.  I stopped to watch for a few minutes, but the lure of burgers and milkshakes at the cafe was very strong, so off we went again. 

Fortified with HUGE burgers, we strolled down to the campground and claimed one of the campsites near the famous hotsprings showers.  I wanted a shower, but my only “towel” is a small 9″ square piece of absorbent cloth.  It was late afternoon by now, and getting chilly.  If I’d had a nice big towel, I would have taken a shower, dried off immediately, and been fine.  But my tiny towel wasn’t up to it, and I didn’t want to get cold.  So Bill did take a shower, but I stayed at camp and welcomed other hikers to join us.  We ended up sharing with Michelle (who sewed her own tent–very nice!),”Just Paul” and Eric, and one other couple.  

We all put up our tents & tarps, since it was clouding over and dripping a bit, but sat around swapping stories and talking till 8:30 pm.  We also slapped at mosquitoes a bit–they were definitely a presence!  Tomorrow we’ll take the bus to our resupply in Mammoth!

Walk to Lórien: Arrive at the hill of Cerin Amroth

Tent 4 was full last night (mostly JMT people) but cleared out fast as soon as the cafe opened. Bill and I were more leisurely because we had fresh fruit, and all I had to do was drop by the store to get coffee and some danishes.   So this morning we sat outside and enjoyed the beautiful morning (and fielded a lot of questions from other hikers about “Where’d you get the fruit?”  I didn’t tell them my source–I didn’t want the poor clerk to be inundated with fruit-starved thruhikers.)  I’m glad I can eat, and the Flagl seems to be working already.

We both rode the ferry back across the lake saying “Back to the trail!” The ferry was at MAX capacity–the captain actually had to shuffle us all and our packs around to “balance the load.”  This time there was  a whole gang of us PCT NOBOs, all headed for Silver Pass. But at the ferry landing,  there was a very serious ranger, who stopped us as we got off the boat, and we all had to produce our permits. Grr!

Going up to Silver Pass involved two “very bad” fords, including the famous “waterfall”  crossing.  I did do the “get behind Bill” technique for that one, but it  turned out to be not as bad as I expected.  In fact, just after we got across, along came a whole group of JMT southbounders, with a dog.  The brave dog unhesitatingly followed its master as he rockhopped and leaped across the roaring, foaming water at the foot of the waterfall.  Wow!

We leapfrogged with other PCT NOBO’s all day, which actually did help a bit with  the usual route-finding in snow going up and down the pass. At the top of each pass is a whole new view of a whole new set of snowy peaks, and Silver Pass was no exception. Wow!  Coming down off Silver Pass, I glissaded twice, and on one of the glissades, my purple bandana came off.   By the time I noticed, it was too late to go back.  But no problema!  One of the other thruhikers spotted it,  knew it was mine, and when Bill and I had stopped for a Snickers break, he came by and said, “Lost something?”  Hooray!   My bandana was back!  I’d carried it for the whole PCT in 2005.  That cheered me up–I had been feeling very discouraged again about being slow over snow and rocks.

All of us ended up tonight camped near the bridge over Cascade Creek.  The mosquitoes were around, but we cowboy camped anyway.  We may ??? make it to Red’s Meadow tomorrow if snow does not give us a lot of problems.  Or to be more accurate, does not give ME a lot of problems.  Bill zips right along, snow or no snow.   He wasn’t very happy today about having to wait for me so often.  All I can say is, “I will do my best.”   But it sure would be nice to make Red’s Meadow!!

Walk to Lórien: In woods near the edge of Lothlórien

It was very cold last night, but nice and clear, with lots of stars. I should mention how grateful I am for the glorious weather we’ve had in the Sierras so far. Today was no exception— beautiful! We walked down the famous “53 Switchbacks” and I was just plain enjoying myself.  In 2005 I was all worried about missing the ferry to VVR.  This time I said, “Oh, whatever!  If we miss the ferry I’ll just walk on in.”  Bill was planning to walk into VVR anyway, instead of taking the ferry.  I am feeling much better–in fact, I’m hungry, and thinking about all that great food at VVR!  I guess the GSE is working!  And last night I finally figured out the lower leg rash problem we’ve been having.   Duh–it’s “diaper rash”–the result of having constantly wet pant legs rubbing on the skin.   A day at VVR with dry pants and sunshine should be a big help! 

About halfway down the hill, the PCT goes through a lovely aspen forest.  Many of the whitebarked trees have names and dates carved on them.  Some of  the dates go back a LONG way!  But I didn’t spend too long looking at them, because in that damp greenness, the mosquitoes were pretty bad.  We had to ford two creeks, also–ow!  Our rashy legs are pretty sore!  We reached the bridge over Mono Creek, which was a whitewater roar.  I stood looking at it and thinking, “Tomorrow we have to ford that.  Yikes!”  Since the morning was starting to warm up, I stopped to take off a layer of jacket, and got instantly swarmed by the mossies.  I guess that as long as you keep moving here, you’re OK, but if you stop, they get you!

The one & 1/2 mile trail to the ferry seemed longer than it was.  It goes uphill and downhill, and one whole section of it was just plain turned into a swamp.  We had no choice but to slog through the mud.   But finally we reached the ferry turnoff and Bill headed on, following the 4.5 mile trail to VVR.   (He didn’t want to wait 1.5 hours for the ferry). I went to the lakeshore and tried to figure out where the ferry landing was.  Everything looked different from 2005, since the lake level now is much higher.  I saw two fishermen across the way, so I went over to ask them where the ferry came in.

Neither of the guys  knew where the landing was, but one of them looked at me very kindly and asked, “Have you had any breakfast?  Would you like something to eat?”  Wow!  Trail magic!  I guess I looked sort of starving??  It turned out that the guys were basically living on tortillas and meat, so that’s what they gave me–a great big tortilla stuffed with a couple of different kinds of meat. Oh yes!  I thanked them very fervently and went back to where there was a big rock with a lake view,  lay down, using my backpack as a pillow, and slowly ate the wonderful tortilla.  Then I just closed my eyes and rested.  I was so tired!   Little groups of hikers were gathering around me, chatting and talking as they waited for the ferry.  They were all JMT southbounders.  I listened carefully to their discussions of what they’d been through so far, because that’s where Bill and I will be next.  

By the time the ferry arrived, there was quite a crowd of JMT’ers, fishermen, and me, the lone PCT hiker.  The VVR dog was also along for the ride.  Apparently he loves going on the ferry, and leaps eagerly aboard whenever the “captain” heads out.   It turned out that  Bill had beat me to VVR.  The first thing we did was to claim two bunks in Tent 4, and leave our packs there.   My appetite is back, and we enjoyed a great breakfast, then chores (showers, laundry, etc).

Once Bill and I were clean, we put salve on our very sore legs, and set our wet shoes out in the sun to dry.  So did all the other hikers!  The Tent 4 deck had rows of drying shoes!  There are a couple of picnic tables by the tent, and those tables are like the hiker trash social center.  Hilarious and interesting conversations are the order of the day!   But I was so totally exhausted that I spent every spare minute collapsed on my bunk and listening in on what was said, rather than joining in, as I would have loved to have done.

At around 2 pm,  Bill and I took a “pie break” and each got a huge, delicious slice of pie a la mode from the famous VVR pie menu.  I was feeling a little more rested, so I dived into the hiker barrel to see what I could find, foodwise, to get us to Red’s Meadow.  Bummer–there wasn’t much.  I guess it’s just too early in the season.  So I had to buy some stuff at the store.  I was hoping to find some fruit (even canned would be OK) but no luck, so I asked the clerk, and voila!  More trail magic!  She told me SHE had some fruit, and to come back later and she’d give it to me!  Wow!

 But then, sigh, I was sick again— it seemed like everything I had eaten  just went straight through. I was hungry, though— no nausea. Bother! Just when I thought I was well again. I hated to take any Flagl, because I figured it was more important for Bill to be well.  If we hit nasty stream crossings or snowcovered passes, I really do need his help, and if he were sick because we ran out of Flagl, that would be very bad.  But we counted our Flagls and decided we had enough to share and still make it to Mammoth. I ate the 4th of July BBQ dinner (wonderful!) and we enjoyed the conversation of other hikers.  Ialso reconnected with the kind clerk lady, who gave me canteloupe and grapes!

After that, the other hikers sat up till late around the campfire, laughing and talking and playing guitars,  but we went to bed.  That’s one bummer about being old.  We just don’t have the energy to hike all day and then sit up late.  But it was fun, before I fell asleep, to hear the happy hiker noise!  I am very grateful we’ve made it here safely.  In two days, we’ll be at our resupply in Mammoth!

Walk to Lórien: In meadows near the edge of Lothlórien

Bill and I both totally zonked last night and slept like logs. “Amazing!” Bill said. “I didn’t even hear the river roaring!” Our long climb up to Selden Pass was enlivened by what I decided to call a “sage hen convention.” We saw several of them on the trail, and heard them drumming in the woods. Bushes in full bloom were hanging over the trail, and smelled very sweet.  Everything was very wet and muddy, though.

We reached lovely Sally Keyes Lakes, where big fat trout swim within easy reach, and several people were camped.  We were amazed at the trout.  “You could catch them with a net!” I said.  “No need for a pole, hook ‘n bait!” 

Heart Lake (higher up) was frozen over, and we fought our way through snow again, with the trail appearing and disappearing, till we finally reached the top at noon. Getting down was tough— lots of snow and hard to find the way, since the trail stays fairly high up for some time, and there was no reliable trail of footprints.   And I had the added dread of knowing that Bear Creek, one of the most horrendous fords of the High Sierra, was just ahead. But we met a hiker who told us the ranger had put up a rope to help hikers get across.   That gave me a bit of hope, and sure enough, when we reached rushing Bear Creek,  just downstream from the trail crossing, there it was–a nice rope tightly strung across the wide, roaring water, for hikers to hold on to.

Note from Alexa: The great irony of this is that, as you see below, the Walk Middle-earth mileage for this day was using ropes to get across a scary creek crossing in Lórien! Creepy!

At first Bill said he would just cross with his trek poles, but then he decided to use the rope.  So he went first and I watched.  The water was just below waist deep on him, and obviously, the worst part was on the far side. With my trek poles lashed to the top of my pack, and everything else secured for a nasty crossing, I ventured in.  The water was moving fast, and was waist deep on me.  Using the rope was quite different from using trek poles. With trek poles you are always leaning INTO the current.  With a rope, you need to keep the rope taut so that it can steady you, and that means you are sort of pulling BACK from the current instead of stepping forward and leaning into it.  After all my trek pole crossing practice, this felt sort of counterintuitive, but I managed OK till I got to the far side where I’d noticed even Bill was having difficulty.  It was baaaaaaad!  I yelled for some help, Bill came back into the river to steady me  a bit and I made it. I LOVE ropes!   And I sure am glad Bill is here, too!

 Then we tried to hike on as fast as we could, to be able to reach Vermilion Valley Resort tomorrow. From Bear Creek on, the mosquitoes were just awful–we had to eat our supper under headnets, wearing raingear– and even though we made it almost to the top of Bear Ridge before camping, we still had to rig the net tent. I am feeling better— maybe the GSE is working!  I was actually hungry at suppertime, and could eat with no problems!   VVR, here we come!

Walk to Lórien: Crossing the Silverlode on ropes

We were all warm and comfortable last night in the Muir Hut, even though the outside temperature dropped to below freezing.  The two brothers left at 4:30am.  It was still very early, and I watched out the little window by my “sleeping ledge” as their tiny headlamps departed into the darkness.  Bill and I waited a little longer, before getting up at 5:15, because we figured that everything would be very hard and icy, plus the light was so dim it was hard to see where the footprint trail went. 

Once we were ready to go, Bill put on Yaktrax and I wore my Microspikes. The whole scene looked like Antarctica, and it was 30 degrees. Brrr!  We were very glad of a well-established “footprint trail” to follow, because the snow here has melted into “suncups”, which makes it like trying to walk on a giant eggcarton with 1-2 foot deep “cups”, all hard and icy. Breaking a trail over suncups is very tough— we were glad it wasn’t us!  And in the shadow of the mountains as we were, the snow was VERY icy indeed. 

Down, down, we went, till the trail went around a big bend in the valley and the snow wasn’t quite as all-encompassing.  We began to encounter snowmelt creeks, which we crossed on snow bridges. Eventually we were in the sun again.  Hooray–the snow almost immediately began to soften up.  It is amazing how fast snow changes from hard ‘n icy to soft ‘n fluffy!  Of course I put my black headnet back on. 

The scenery all around us was breathtaking.  I kept wanting to stop and just drink it in, but Bill as usual was way out ahead and I had to do my best to keep up.  Whoever made the footprint trail was definitely an “islandhopper” who headed for every bit of bare rock he could find.  I am a bit leery of rocks now, after two bad posthole experiences, so I actually tried to steer clear of the rocks.  This meant I had to break my own trail around them, and sometimes that made for slow going.  I got quite a nice little entertainment at one point, though, which I HAD to stop and watch!  It was a marmot, trying to cross a snowmelt creek.  Marmots look a bit rolypoly and not very athletic, but wow, turns out they are really good jumpers, and very agile!   That furry little guy managed to rockhop all the way across the creek without getting wet.  Some of his leaps were absolutely amazing!  I cheered when he made it across!

We were making pretty good progress through all the snow, steadily heading down the hill.  I just kept plugging along, following Bill, till suddenly he stopped.  I caught up with him, and he said, “Something’s not right. That looks like the trail–on the other side of the lake.”  I hadn’t been paying attention much–just following Bill, and now I realized in horror that yes indeed, in all the snow we missed the turnoff to where we were supposed to cross upper Evolution Creek, followed by walking along the OTHER side of the lake.  

Oh no!  Very sadly, we turned around and headed back UP the hill we’d just come down, looking for the trail crossing.  We could not find it.  (Hikers later told us that the crossing, which is a line of huge steppingstones, was completely buried.  No wonder we didn’t see it!)   Finally Bill said, “We have no choice. We’ll just have to ford the creek.”  I was terrified. The “creek” was roaring and very wide.  The place Bill chose to cross looked deep.  Downstream a little way it looked wider and shallower.  I suggested that we should try to cross there, but Bill was adamant.  I tried my best to summon up all my courage and face that crossing, but I just felt like I couldn’t do it, and to Bill’s disgust, I started to cry.  I cried not just because I was so scared, but ironically, because I was so angry with myself for being scared.  I was also angry with myself for not being cheerful and brave!  Oh man!  The result was tears.  I know, I know, it’s totally illogical…and that made me even more angry at myself.

  But Bill put his foot down and said, “Let’s go, we HAVE to get across this thing. ” So I forced myself, sniffles and all, to put my gear into “nasty streamcrossing mode”, then since it looked pretty bad, I did not try to cross by myself, but sidestepped BEHIND Bill, holding on to his pack.  That way, he took the brunt of the roaring, freezing water. Yikes! But we made it, and not only that, but the snow was rapidly less and less, so it wasn’t long before we were hiking on green grass around Evolution Lake. 

Halfway along the lake, we stopped for lunch, very frustrated that it had taken us all morning to cover just 5 miles.  But the sun was warm, the grass was soft & comfortable, and pretty soon we were laughing at the marmots who literally surrounded us on all sides, obviously scheming on how to steal our food.  Bill and I practically had to sit back to back to protect our stuff, since the marmots were coming in from every direction!

Then we switchbacked way down to the Evolution Creek valley and lovely McClure Meadow.  It was gorgeous.  The blue creek wandered along through lush meadows.  Snowcapped mountains were all around.  Quite a few people were camped in the woods there.  A little way before the trail crossed Evolution Creek (another famously fearsome ford), there was another “ranger note” posted by the trail.  It said, “Evolution Creek is chest deep at the official crossing.  I recommend an alternate place upstream–follow the trail of upright sticks to reach the alternate.”  

Yikes!  Chest deep sounded nasty.   “Whose chest?”  I wondered.  “Was he six feet tall or five feet tall?”  We lost no time in following the stick trail through the woods, till we were standing on the bank of Evolution Creek.  The creek was pretty wide, but it was obvious that the deepest part was right below where we were standing.   I lowered my trek pole into the water to check the depth.  Thigh deep!   No problem!  And it wasn’t rushing and roaring, just moving along nicely!   Bill and I crossed easily, with no problems.

 On we went through the woods, till we were back on the PCT/JMT again.  I found it fascinating how quickly a river can change!   In McClure Meadow,  Evolution Creek just flows peacefully along, but just after the official trail crossing, it begins to plunge down the canyon, and instantly becomes a whitewater foaming ROAR.  Looking at it, you’d never dream that it was easily fordable just upstream.

More switchbacking took us down to the South Fork of the San Joaquin with its nice BRIDGE (I LOVE bridges!) where we stopped and tried to eat some supper.  Neither Bill nor I could eat much.  We both still feel rather sick.  I have been dosing myself with
GSE all day, hoping to cure whatever it is I have.  I tried to tell myself that eating so little and exerting myself so much was bound to create problems, and tried to force myself to eat more, but I just could not do it.  So our supper break was really more of a rest break than anything else!

We pushed on again for another 3 miles or so, before finding a nice place to cowboy camp near the river.  A bit of breeze was blowing, so there were no mosquitoes.  I was very tired, but cheered up when I calculated our mileage.  Despite the slow start in the snow this morning, we still managed to get 16 miles done!  And what a contrast of scene today–starting in Antarctica, and now here, on a warm evening, with green plants and trees everywhere.  The only concern I have left is that I continue to feel so ill and increasingly weak.  On the bright side, we certainly will have no problem of running out of food!   Bill and I have eaten so little that we have plenty left!

Walk to Lórien: At the first leaves of Lothlórien, near the Nimrodel