Had a solid night’s sleep, which really helped me today. I felt 100% better!  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!”)   The mosquitoes came to see us off as we packed up and headed for the “little Golden Gate Bridge” over Woods Creek.  The creek was a roaring torrent of white water–I sure am glad for the bridge!  It’s a suspension bridge that will take one person crossing at a time.  I went first.  The bridge sways every time you take a step, and for me, it’s a bit scary.  But I made it almost all the way across (only about 20 feet left to go) when Bill thought I was done, and bounded on to the bridge.  Yikes!   The whole bridge started bucking and heaving up and down.  I was terrified, but too scared to turn around and yell at Bill to stop.  So I kept going, but man, was I glad to reach solid ground!

But the walk up toward Pinchot Pass along the creek was beautiful, and I soon felt very much consoled by the wildflowers along the trail, and the beauty of Woods Creek as it rushed and roared and cascaded and leaped in foaming whitewater torrents over the boulders in its path.  We also met some JMT  SOUTHbounders  Hooray!  That meant people are starting to make it through the snow and over the passes–there will be footprints to follow!

But suddenly, without warning,  Bill just “bonked.” He stopped hiking, took off his pack, lay flat down on the ground, and said, “I feel awful.” From that point on, he would not eat (“I feel sick”) and for the entire rest of the day, he  could only go a little way before stopping again.  I was worried.  Yesterday during the climb out of Vidette, I had to stop and rest a couple of times because I was so awfully tired, but I didn’t feel sick.  It soon became obvious that we would only make it over Pinchot Pass today, not Mather.

Soon the trail completely disappeared under the snow, and we spent at least two hours trying to head in more or less the right direction, based on Bill’s JMT experience.  Pinchot is a tricky pass to locate, and many early season hikers get lost trying to get there.  But Bill was watching for his favorite landmark, a rock formation he calls “Kilroy”, that’s located just to the left of the pass.  He spotted it, and we were headed for it, doing snow traverses and rock scrambles along the way, when we spotted two other hikers headed in the wrong direction.  We shouted and yelled and waved to them, trying to point out the right way to go, but they couldn’t hear us and eventually disappeared from sight.  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.  Near the top of the pass, amazingly, several switchbacks were snowfree, and we were able to just plain hike instead of climb.  But just short of the very top, it was steep snow again, and I went back to Microspikes and ice axe.  What a relief to finally be standing on top!  It was whoop ‘n holler time for me! 

Bill rested again, and planned a strategy for getting down.  There are several lakes below the north side of the pass (they were mostly frozen over and surrounded by snow) and that made it easier to see where to go.  At first we were able to follow snowfree switchbacks down the pass,  but then the snow took over again, and footprints headed along the snow, roughly following the path of the trail.  We decided to only “sort of” follow them, and shortcut whenever possible.  Our plan worked fine.  The farther down we went, the less snow, and the trail was playing hide ‘n seek, but we always managed to find it again.  We noticed that there was one set of footprints which seemed to be following the same basic strategy we were using, and that did save us a bit of time–at several points, when we were hesitating about which way to go, one of us would spot the footprints and cheer, “Look!  They went thataway!” and off we would go again. 

 When the snow thins, the creek crossings begin, and of course the trail itself (when visible) was a creekbed itself.  The outlet creek of Lake Marjorie was wide and a little deepish, but moving very slowly, so it was an easy crossing.  Whew!  After that came numerous smaller creeks that were rushing and roaring, but only knee deep.  I was able to cross them OK, and I am a lot less scared than I was a couple of days ago.  Practice helps! 

Finally we were happily switchbacking down a snowfree !!! trail into the Kings River Valley, when we came to a sign the rangers had put up.  “Please Read!” it said in large letters.  It warned that the next creek crossing was extremely fastmoving water, and would be much safer to cross on a log 300 yards upstream.  It also said that the next crossing (the Kings River) was very deep and fast and far too dangerous to attempt a crossing.  The rangers recommended that all hikers stay on the near side of the river and follow it up till the trail itelf crosses back over near Mather Pass.  Bill’s reaction was, “Humph!  The rangers are sissies!”

He then took off on a tear down the trail.  I couldn’t keep up with him!  So he arrived at “the next creek crossing”  and was standing there looking at it when I arrived.  It did look nasty–all white water, and yes, moving very fast.  I said, “Wow, we’d better go upstream to the log!”  Bill said, “No way.  This is do-able,”  and in he went.  I thought about going up to the log all by myself, but in the end, I watched Bill very carefully to see where the worst spots were .  I could see that the creek was never more than “just above the knee” deep, but oh man, was it roaring!   Scary!  Once Bill was safely across, I started in, praying like crazy with every step.  Basically what I do is say, “Lord, please guide my foot/trek pole”.  The rule of thumb in these crossings is to move one thing at a time–either one trek pole or one foot. 

About 2/3 of the way across, it started getting really hard for me.  Taller, heavier people have an advantage over us shorter, lighter people on these roaring crossings.  I yelled to Bill for help, and he came back into the creek to help steady me against the current as I finished the crossing.  Whew!  Then he said he was completely exhausted and wanted to camp NOW, even though it was only 6 pm.  I agreed, but asked if we could go just a bit farther on, to get away from the roar of the creek. 

And so we walked for a little while till we found a really nice camping spot between two big logs.  It was clouding over, so we rigged the tarp.  Bill went straight into his sleeping bag, but I did persuade him to drink a cup of Emergen-C with GSE added, and to take an Advil PM to help him sleep, since he said he didn’t sleep well last night, and that was part of his problem.  But he refused to eat anything else, saying “I’m too tired”, and went to sleep.  I was feeling pretty good, so I sat up for awhile eating supper and just enjoying the beauty of the woods.  What a relief to be out of the snow!  And no mosquitoes, either!   When I did go to bed, I took some time catching up on my journal notes.  I’ve only written one sentence a day till now, because I was so tired!

I am concerned about the Kings River crossing tomorrow.  All the hikers I know of always do as the ranger recommended and follow the river far upstream.  But Bill is being very stubborn about river crossings, and he does not feel well.  I decided that if the river looks too scary tomorrow morning, I will not attempt to cross it, but will meet Bill farther up the trail.   I hate doing this, but I am also very worried.

Walk to Lórien: Within Moria and Gollum begins following

It was a cold, cold  night last night, and I should have taken some Motrin,  I think, before collapsing into my sleeping bag, because every bit of me ached from the effort of getting over Forester.  As a result  I didn’t sleep much even though I was so tired.  But we dragged ourselves up at 5:00 am, anyway, because we have  long way to go before Glen Pass.  The PCT was still playing hide ‘n seek in the snow, so it took us awhile to find our way downhill to Vidette Meadows.  I did think it interesting, though, that the plants up here have not even begun to swell their buds yet, and it’s almost the end of June!  They sure don’t get much “growing time”!

Eventually we were down in the lovely forests of Vidette M., hiking along with the river roaring by.  Of course every side creek coming into the river was roaring, too, so I got lots of practice in creek crossings!  Bill and I now live all day in perpetually wet shoes and socks and lower pant legs.  Anybody who wants to obsess about removing shoes and socks for every stream crossing would take FOREVER to get through so much wet stuff.  We just head right in, shoes and all, whether it’s a creek crossing or just plain “PCT Creek”, where the trail itself becomes a waterway! 

After the nice walk through Vidette valley, we began the killer uphill toward  the Kearsarge Pass trail junction.  It was a beautiful day, and very warm.   Due to the heat, plus lack of sleep, I think,  the climb  just about did me in— I had to stop and rest several times, instead of just chugging on up as I usually would have done.  This was really frustrating to me, because I knew we were “under the gun” timewise to make it over Glen Pass before it “iced up”.

When we got to the Kearsarge junction, we got a good laugh, because the “junction”, sign and all, was in the middle of a snowmelt lake, surrounded by snowfields!  But there was a sort of trail of footprints to follow as we headed for Glen Pass.  Bill has done this pass in early season several times, and he said the approach and climb are not bad, but going down is pretty scary.  If he thinks something is scary, I figure it will really be tough.  We climbed up and up through the snow, heading for the foot of the pass.  Yesterday, we actually skipped a meal to save time, and we did it again today.

 The climb up Glen  was a combination of “straight up the snow”, “scramble up rocks” and “walk along a bit of visible trail.”    When I came to those blessed bits of trail, I could stop and look around, and wow!  What magnificence!  There were snowy mountains all around, roofed with a spectacular blue Sierra sky.  The lake below the pass was frozen over with the extraordinary light bluegreen color that frozen lakes seem to have.   Finally, long after Bill, I made it to the top of the Pass, where I began to hoot ‘n holler and yell.  (Again, Bill thought I was nuts to do this.  He just figures, “Hey, I made it!  End of story.”) 

Now for going down the other side, the part that even Bill calls “scary”.  For me, it was back to the “controlled terror” of a descent where if you slip, you are basically done for. I had already committed my personal safety to God’s care, and again just concentrated on “the next step.”  Some hikers glissade down from this pass, but Bill considers that suicidal, even if it is fast.  Even he just plain walks down.

 Fortunately, we were blessed with “perfect” snow to walk on, and were able to follow a footprint trail that slowly made its way down diagonally across the steep snow wall.  I didn’t look down, just  concentrated on the next step, and was VERY glad those steps were there!  Further down the mountainside, there was less snow and more rocks.  I wear Microspikes when on snow, and take them off for rocks.  They are VERY easy to take on and off, which is one of the reasons I chose them.  When I’m not wearing them, I simply hang them from the sternum strap of my backpack.  We didn’t even bother trying to “follow the trail”, just headed right on down.

 And so we finally made it to Rae Lakes, where the lakes were not frozen, big fat trout were hanging out right by the shore, and Dragon Mountain  provided a dramatic backdrop. We scrambled across the “log jumble bridge” between the lakes–it was pretty scary (there were a lot more logs in 2005)– but with some help from Bill, I managed to do it.  Then we headed out, still dealing with hunting for trail-in-snow, and tried to hike faster, to make up for all the time I’d lost creeping over the pass.   On the way, we met another helpful ranger who had tips for us about Pinchot Pass and some of the creeks up ahead.  We also passed a large group of backpackers who’d already stopped for the day.  Turned out they were doing a trip which began at one of the Cedar Grove trailheads, went up over Glen Pass, then back down to a different trailhead at Cedar Grove.  They were camped in a meadow that was absolutely loaded with mosquitoes.  I did not envy them, but they seemed to be having fun, mossies or no mossies!

We were determined to camp at Woods Creek,  remembering it as low (no snow!), flat and dry and pretty.  Our memories were correct!  There it was–dry ground, hardly any mosquitoes, and a LOT of campers!  We went off into the woods and found a wonderful spot to cowboy camp on soft pine needles with the roar of the river not far away.  So by around 7:30 pm, we were comfortable in our sleeping bags.  I decided to take some Advil PM because I was so sore and tired from carrying a heavy pack over so many obstacles.  It worked.  I totally zonked out.

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