Dave and Lexi's 2004 PCT hike

Central California

June 3, 2004
Zero (the number of trail miles you hike). We came very close to one, walking only the two miles from the campground to the store, where we lounged the entire day. Time flies when you're trying hard to do nothing, be we repacked our food and mailed home the water filter. From here, water will be much more plentiful and much less gross, so we'll just carry Aqua Mira (chlorine dioxide) drops.

Once upon a time, life was peaceful in Kennedy Meadows, population between 50 and 70, depending on who you ask. Hikers would hang out at the store all day, and get shuttled in the back of a pickup to the Grumpy Bear restaurant for dinner. However, some time in the last year guys from these places got into a gunfight and went to court. Then the store folks made a fuss and got the state to yank the Grumpy Bear's liquor license. It became a full bore feud involving everyone in town.

Tonight, the store offered a fried chicken dinner for a $5 "donation," and was clearly trying to put the Grumpy Bear out of business. A huge hairy local guy proclaimed loudly that hikers were welcome to hang out at the store, just as long as they didn't go to the Grumpy Bear. At that very moment, the pickup pulled up for us, and we ran for it, amid a shameful silence and a hoard of evil looks.

Having evaded the rotten tomato attitude, we had a great dinner of greasy fries, sandwiches, and milkshakes. Kennedy Meadows seems full of stubborn folks, so we expect the feud to last a while.

-Dave

June 4, 2004
Today, we left Kennedy Meadows and entered the High Sierra. Hooray! I've been waiting for this for what seems like a very long time. At first, the landscape didn't seem that different from what we have been traveling through recently though.

We ascended the narrow valley of Crag Creek through sparse pine and sage brush. We got to the pass at the top of the Creek and suddenly, we could see an expanse of meadow below us and craggy peaks not too far away. This was a real meadow too, with grass and a creek, unlike Kennedy Meadows.

After a brief descent to the Kern River, we began climbing in earnest. The trail wound through rocky outcrops and forests of Jeffrey Pine and Foxtail Pine. Now, perched on a ridge at 10,400 feet, I fall asleep to the drone of mosquitoes. Ok, so the bugs might be the one downside to this place!

-Lexi

June 6, 2004

Our path today has wandered past high glacial lakes, through green grassy meadows out across by crystal clear streams, up steep passes covered with straight lodge-pole and gnarled foxtail pines, and past high craggy snowy peaks. Every ridge takes us to a new vista more stunning than the last. I don't know when I've been in a place this beautiful. My appreciation, is, I think, compounded by the relative monotony of the desert mountains that we have been in.

This afternoon, we went over 10,900-foot Guyot Pass. The trail up was the steepest thing we've climbed yet - almost like trails back east. From the top, we were treated to expansive views of Guyot Flat and the Whitney Stream Valley beyond. Each pass we go over reveals a whole new landscape beyond.

The trail descended into Crabtree Meadow across a steep boulder, through a narrow ravine, and finally opened up to the meadow itself. We continued a mile upstream to Upper Crabtree Meadow where we pitched our tent on a large grassy flat. The river roars beside us, and the lower slopes of Mt. Whitney glow pink above us. Tomorrow we will climb the Mountain!

The last three nights, we have slept above 10,000 feet, Each day, we have covered at least 20 miles and climbed between 2000 and 5000 feet. They have been long days, and I think it's beginning to wear on me.

We've been traveling with a loose group of people: Buck 30, Quijote, Too Obtuse, Birdnut, Mystic, Southpaw, Pat, and G.T. Southpaw's friend Now or Never joined him at Kennedy Meadows and is here too. It's pretty amazing that he started only three days ago and is managing to keep up with all of us. Sometimes running into folks at every stop seems to intrude on the solitude of this place. This seems to affect Dave in particular. At those times, we just move on and find a place alone. At other times, it's nice to be able to share this experience with others, to talk about what we are seeing and where we have been. Tonight we all scattered about this meadow in anticipation of tomorrow's climb.

-Lexi

June 7, 2004
Our day for Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the Lower 48 states at 14,484', started at 5 a.m. with frozen water bottles and frosty grass. We left most of our gear and food at Upper Crabtree Meadow, and carried pleasantly light packs on our 17-mile sidetrip. At 6 a.m. we took off our shoes, socks, and pants to ford the stream next to camp. The water was so cold that I yelped in agony. It took 20 minutes of hiking uphill to completely thaw out. After Quijote crossed, her feet literally froze to the ground.

Everyone else slept in a bit, so we made our climb in solitude. In the blue early morning light we climbed up the valley, past gorgeous lakes and tarns. Vivid yellow sunlight crept down the pinnacles on the other side of the valley. We switchbacked upwards, crossing sun cupped snow patches that were frozen solid. For a long time we had no idea how the trail would reach the ridge crest. Eventually it became clear that switchbacks had been blasted right out of the cliff band, and were held up with impressive retaining walls.

The views from the ridge were stunning. Through small gaps we could see thousands of feet down the east side, to turquoise frozen lakes. As we gained altitude, we breathed absurdly hard. Walking up the exposed but smooth trail felt like wading through Jell-O.

We sat on the summit for three hours, enjoying the amazing cloudless views in every direction. Our fellow hikers eventually joined us, and Mystic cooked some falafel.

The descent to camp (10,700') felt wonderfully easy thanks to the ever thickening air. We arrived tired and hungry, but enormously satisfied.

-Dave

June 8, 2004
After our successful summiting of Mt. Whitney, we were a little slow to leave camp this morning. We met Weather Carrot, who told us that a cold front, with snow above 8000' and maybe some thunder, was headed our way tonight. The uncertain weather gave us some urgency, as today we had an obstacle almost as formidable as Whitney: Forester Pass.

Dave and I hiked by ourselves most of the morning, traversing the expansive and scenic Bighorn Plateau, which afforded views in all directions. Late in the morning, we descended to Tyndall Creek, where we met up with the crew we've been traveling with. At the creek, we sprinkled M&Ms in honor of John, a thru-hiker who died near there in 1999. We didn't know him, but our friend Charlotte, who hiked with him in 1999, had asked us to remember him.

With sober thoughts in our heads, we started the ascent to Forester. Weather Carrot asked that everyone hang out on top once there. This seemed like a subtle way of saying, "let's stick together." Whether this was his intent or not, the eight of us - Buck 30, Bird Nut, Too Obtuse, Quijote, Mystic, Weather Carrot, Dave and myself - did the rest of the climb together.

The trail crept up onto a large basin from which we could finally see the pass. It looked steep, an altogether unlikely destination for the trail. We could not discern the actual route of the trail through the cliff band until we were switch-backing across dynamited ledges.

We were almost at the top, but had one more obstacle to cross: the notorious snow chute. It's only about 30 feet across, but it's very steep, and the run-out is rocky and dangerous. It's a place where falling is not an option. One by one, we steadied ourselves with out ice axes, kicked steps into the snow, and made our way across with varying degrees of confidence. As each person reached dry ground, we all cheered. Soon, we were on top, high on adrenaline, and proud of our accomplishment.

On the way down, Dave, Mystic and I took the direct slide-on-the-butt route. Others walked down. The first reasonable campsite on dry ground was our home for the night.

As evening came, the first clouds of Weather Carrot's storm darkened the sky. We were all a little nervous as we knew that there were still four people behind us - Southpaw, GT, Now or Never and Pat - who still had not arrived at camp. When they finally made it down, tired but in good spirits, we all cheered.

We are all individuals out here, but in a very real way, we are also part of this group - as least as long as we all choose to be. Summiting the pass together today has brought us all closer together.

-Lexi

June 9, 2004
Weather Carrot's cold front materialized overnight. We woke to overcast skies, frozen socks, shoes, and water bottles, and temperatures in the twenties inside our tents. Hot cocoa and oatmeal made a good start to the frigid day, as soon we were headed over Kearsarge Pass and out of the mountains and towards Independence. As we climbed, snow began to fall, sometimes quite heavily. It accumulated enough to dust everything lightly and make the foxtail pines look like frosted Christmas trees. The snow and ever shifting mist gave the Kearsarge basin an ethereal look. The snow was our first precipitation on this trip.

After descending seemingly endless switchbacks, we finally arrived at the road at the Onion Valley Campground. A shuttle down to town took us to 4000 feet, and back into the desert sun. The thick warm air was quite a contrast to the air on the pass. Hot showers, laundry and fresh hot food soon made the morning snow a distant memory.

-Lexi

June 10, 2004
Today we took a much-needed zero day. The past week has been strenuous, and we were tired. This morning, we took the bus to Bishop in search of a larger grocery store and an outdoor store. (My clumsy running shorts needed replacing, and I broke down and bought some DEET to combat the mosquitoes.)

After an afternoon repackaging food on the courthouse lawn, we walked the half-mile to the campground to join Quijote, Too Obtuse, Weather Carrot, and Mystic. The six of us had decided to save money and not spend another night at the motel.

At our campsite, we found an abandoned badminton birdie. We started playing catch with our newfound toy. Soon we added another level of challenge: rather than hitting the birdie with our hands, we swung at it with our ice axes. And so the game of axe-minton was born. It's played like hackey-sack, with the only rule being is two people are going for the birdie both have to stop, to avoid potential ice axe injury!

We laughed hard at our foolishness and played until it was too dark to see.

-Lexi

June 11, 2004
For breakfast we finished all our fresh town food: bananas, peaches, yogurt, donuts, and OJ. At 7:03 we piled into the Wilderhouse Shuttle Service van and returned to the Onion Valley Trailhead. At the campground we bid farewell to Beer Snob, whose foot pain had been diagnosed as a stress fracture. So instead of hiking through the Sierra with his medium format camera, he'll be hitchhiking. He seemed to be in good spirits despite his setback.

Laden with six days of food, the 2000' climb back to Kearsarge Pass was work, but it was nice to see the amazing views again. After rejoining the PCT, we climbed towards Glen Pass. The trail twisted and turned. Only at the last minute did we know where the pass really lay. From the top we gazed over steep snowfields to the Rae Lakes below.

Our descent began with a long trench-like traverse. The snow was just right, so I standing-glissaded down long stretches. Fabulous! We congregated on a warm rock at the bottom and loudly cheered on those who followed. Jason and Addy won the synchronized butt-slide award, and Quijote won the braveness prize for sliding in her sarong.

-Lexi

June 12, 2004
Out of both sleepiness and a desire to stay away from the new crowd of early-birds, we got a slow start. We bid farewell to Pat, who was bailing down a side trail to let his shin splints heal. You never know when injury is going to strike. Buch-30 stayed in Independence, needing to see a dentist for a failed root canal. Another hiker was evacuated and flown home when he developed rabid mitosis, apparently a dramatic increase in one's red blood cell count which can cause liver and kidney failure.

Our 3500' ascent of Pinchot Pass was long and arduously slow. Some combination of altitude, sleepiness, and digestive gas pains kept me going at a crawl. After crossing countless snowfields, we reached the top and celebrated with veggie pepperoni and hard-boiled egg tortilla sandwiches.

The glissading and hiking down was gorgeous. We passed bubbling streams, frozen lakes, and mushy meadows. After a knee-deep shoe-soaking ford, we stopped for dinner with Too Obtuse, Quijote, and Weather Carrot.

Hiking towards sunset, we made camp in a high meadow. Our first task for tomorrow stands before us: Mather Pass. Hopefully it won't be too icy.

-Dave

June 13, 2004
Under yet another clear sky we headed up by Golden Peaks to Mather Pass. The remaining streams were either easily hopped or covered by snow bridges. Crossing a large snowfield, we lost the trail and chose to climb straight up. After climbing Whitney and several passes with a crew, it was nice to do Mather by ourselves. Other people probably would have called us nuts for kicking steps up the firm morning snow. Some of it was necessary, however, as the switchbacking trail was largely covered with snow, and the horribly loose scree in between was not exactly inviting.

After drying our clothes and eating snacks, we headed down the north side. The snow was very firm, and downright hard where it was still in shadow, but those who passed yesterday afternoon had left large, secure steps. At the end of a long traverse, the tracks abruptly ended; Yesterday's hikers had glissaded the steep slope. Doing so in the morning's hard snow was not an option, so we tenuously downclimbed the sun cups, relying heavily on our axes.

After two miles of more ordinary descent, we passed by the Palisade Lakes. Rich, turquoise water met waterfalls spilling down steep snowy cliffs on the far side. We snacked sitting on a smooth, open ledge littered with erratics and gazed past spongy meadows and sparse trees to the snowy pass we had just descended. It was truly a magical place. Descending steeply down the valley, we watched the lake's outlet become a thunderous torrent. For miles we followed this continuous waterfall.

After six ounces of dark chocolate and a brief nap, we began climbing the next valley toward Muir Pass. To avoid post-holing across its long snowfields, we climbed to near the snowline, to get a firm start in the morning. We hiked upward after dinner in the refreshing dusk. New cascades fell in, left and right. It was glorious.

-Dave

June 14, 2004
After yesterday evening's burst of energy, we were well positioned to climb Muir Pass this morning. Both the approach and the descent go through long flat snow-covered basins. In order to avoid postholing for hours, we wanted to be off the snow before it softened up mid-day.

We started climbing around 6:30. The snow obliterated the trail, so we made our own way kicking steps up the basins and contouring around numerous lakes. Around 9, we arrived at the pass and small solidly built stone hut which is on top. After a brief rest, we began our descent through the Evolution Basin. Just as the snow was beginning to get soft, we thankfully reached dry land. Our descent continued under ominous skies and rumbling thunder.

We have plenty of time to get to Vermilion Valley Resort, our next resupply, and after the arduous hiking we've been doing, both Dave and I are pretty tired, so we decided to call it a day early (around 4:30pm). Now we're resting in the tent listening to the rain (our first of the trip) fall and the thunder rumble closer. We haven't seen anyone all day, though I know that Weather Carrot, and maybe Obtuse and Quijote, were planning to spend the night on top of the pass in the hut. I hope they're staying dry and safe.

The passes that we've been over: Guyot, Forester, Kearsarge, Glen, Pinchot, Mather, Muir seem to merge together into one long string of rugged mountain scenery. Each pass is flanked by glacially carved basins and crystal clear lakes fed by snowmelt and drained by waterfalls. I've never been in a place with such astounding and apparently never ending beauty. I feel truly blessed to be here.

-Lexi

June 15, 2004
We started the day with a very wet crossing of Evolution Creek. We opted not to cross at the trail, but instead went upstream to Evolution Meadow. There, the stream channel was divided, and the current not so strong, though the water still came up to my waist. After draining our shoes as best we could, we continued on down the valley.

We had hoped to spend the afternoon at the Hot Springs just before Muir Trail Ranch. Envisioning warm relaxing water, we followed the "hot springs" signs on the side trail. The last sign pointed us across the roaring San Joaquin River. There was no way we could get across. Feeling foolish for not having anticipated this problem, we turned around and went back up the hill.

Finally, towards mid afternoon, we were on our way up hill to our pass for the day: Selden Pass. At 10, 800 ft it is lower and less difficult than many we have crossed.

As we climbed, the sky grew dark, and thunder rumbled close by. We paused at Sally Keyes Lake just at tree line, and decided to cook dinner, hoping that it would clear enough that we could cross the pass. We knew that if we did not cross today, our hike tomorrow to get to our resupply at Vermilion Valley Resort would be very long.

After dinner, the sky had lightened somewhat, and the thunder had apparently moved off, so we deiced to continue. I was still quite nervous. I am not afraid of many things in the backcountry, but unfortunately thunder storms are among my few fears. I'll admit that this sometimes clouds my judgment.

As we approached the top of the pass, I could see that the sky on the other side was covered with threatening blue-black clouds, and my heart started thumping faster. (Dave of course will tell you that there were merely innocent puffy white clouds on the other side of the pass. As we did not have an impartial observer, we'll have t assume that the truth lies somewhere between our two disparate perceptions.)

As we crossed the pass, I started moving as fast as I could go. Dave followed, becoming mad at me for being careless on the snow slope, then frustrated because he could not keep up with my crazed pace, then exhausted from trying to do so. I continued down, my knotted stomach clenching tighter with every distant rumble of thunder.

Finally, we reached a camp below tree-line and set up our tent, which was already soaked from thunderstorms the night before. We collapsed into our sleeping bags, too tired to acknowledge that it had been a difficult day for both of us. Truly, this was a low moment on this trip.

-Lexi

June 16, 2004
Still tired from yesterday, we got a late start this morning. As we headed down the valley, our first obstacle was Bear Creek ford. This was narrower, but stronger and scarier than evolution. The force of the water made my trekking poles vibrate and each step required tremendous effort to place my foot securely. After wringing out socks and shoes as best we could, we continued on our way.

Relatively easy walking took us to a trail junction where we left the PCT and headed towards Vermilion Valley Resort (VVR) where we would pick up our resupply package.

VVR lies on the Western end of Lake Edison. The resort has a boat that ferries hikers the 5 miles across the lake. We arrived at the dock several hours before the boat was due to arrive so opted to walk around the lake instead.

After a seemingly endless walk, we finally made it to the resort. Our first thought was food, for which the place is famous among thru-hikers. We bought a strawberry pie and ate three quarters of it on the spot (along with some ice cream). This pie was truly one of the best I have ever eaten, and I am very picky about my pies!

Our appetites temporarily sated, we started about the business of sorting through our resupply box, taking showers, doing laundry, etc. Part way through this, a large man came out on the porch and asked, "What happened to one of my pies?" He saw what was left on the table and asked, "So, did you like it?"

And so we met Stanley, the cook at VVR. He has been a Jesuit priest, a vice president for a large department store, a philosophy professor at Berkeley, and one-time cook for President Clinton. Now he spends his retirement cooking for hikers in the mountains.

Stanley's dinner special was Chicken Florentine (there were no other choices). The chicken breasts stuffed with brie and spinach and wrapped in a pastry shell was by far the best meal we've had on the trail. As very hungry lapsed vegetarians, Dave and I had no qualms abut savoring every morsel.

-Lexi

June 17, 2004
Mmm, breakfast. Stanley whipped up pancakes, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. We polished off the strawberry pie, and Lexi had several cups of the local cowboy coffee. Filled to the gills, we packed up and got a quick motorboat ride back to the east end of Edison Lake.

The pancakes weighed us down initially, but we burned through them on our way up Silver Pass. We climbed through a modest amount of snow to reach the pass, only to climb the ridge higher to a spot (the second top) with a reasonable way down.

This afternoon we parted with Birdnut, who took an alternate route to Red's Meadow. He'll be going down to Mammoth Lakes to nurse a mysterious painful foot. We wish him well.

Since entering the Sierra, I have bonked (hit the wall, run out of gas�) several times, none of them convenient or pleasant. Perhaps my body is just burning through the food extra fast. Today we snacked twice as often as usual, and I was able to charge up the hill to Lake Virginia. Hooray snacks!

-Dave

June 18, 2004
Frozen condensation covering our sleeping bags and tent helped us get on the trail fast: Lingering was a bit chilly. At Purple Lake (which wasn't the least bit purple), we met fellow hikers (names omitted to protect the guilty) who had stored their food in an Ursack, a Kevlar supposedly bear proof bag. That night a bear had chewed/clawed/bludgeoned a fist sized hole in it and sucked out every bit of food. Having had only decaf cowboy coffee, they eagerly took the granola bars we offered.

Note to hikers: Ursacks don't work! Be smart, carry a can. After unusually easy walking we arrived at Red Meadow's Resort, where we ate grilled cheese sandwiches, pie (not as good as Stanley's) and ice cream sandwiches. Mmm.

-Dave

June 19, 2004
We left our cozy campsite just outside of Devil's Postpile National Monument around 7am. We opted, through this section, to take the slightly harder John Muir Trail, rather than the PCT.

Under crystal clear blue sky, we made out way past a series of deep, round glacial lakes. By early afternoon, we had made it to perhaps the most scenic part of the day: Thousand Island Lake. This large lake is almost completely above tree line and provides unobstructed views and reflections of Banner Peak.

This area is relatively close to the road, and it's a Saturday, so we ran into several parties of day and weekend hikers. Those whom we stopped to talk with, seemed quite mystified about why what we are doing is a good idea.

After a long break, we continued over Island Pass. An afternoon thunderstorm (complete with hail) sprang up rather suddenly as we descended. Since we had come about as far as we had intended, we set up camp quickly, and sought shelter in our tent. Now, of course, the sun seems to be shining again. Just in time to make dinner!

-Lexi

June 20, 2004
We woke early this morning to clear blue sky and no sign of yesterday's hail storm. Our goal was to finish the 16 miles to Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite National Park before 3:30 when the showers closed.

We made our way up Donahue Pass, which was scattered with numerous small shimmering lakes. We had heard from others that the trail was hard to find up the pass. These warnings seemed unfounded as we followed the route with ease across a few snow slopes and up the final rocky switchbacks. Perhaps when there is more snow, it is harder.

On the north side of the pass we descended into Lyell Canyon, down which the trail meandered gradually towards Tuolumne. As we approached the road, towards the hordes in the National Park, we passed hikers with backpacks of ever increasing size, presumably out for shorter trips. One person even had a lawn chair! One slightly rotund ranger we passed asked us for our wilderness permit - the first person to do so in two months. Dave excavated the slightly dog-eared piece of paper out of the bottom of his pack and presented it.

After passing more people in one afternoon than we had seen on the entire rest of the trip, we arrived at Tuolumne Lodge in plenty of time to take our showers. Refreshed, we met up with our friends Kurt, Noreen and Sarah (11 months), who had come out from Berkeley to spend a few days with us here, car camping and doing day-hikes. I'm looking forward to lots of rest and a short vacation from the trail.

-Lexi

June 23, 2004
For the last two days, we have been at the Tuolumne Meadows Campground with Kurt, Noreen, and Sarah, eating loads of great food, hiking Pothole Dome and Lembert Dome, swimming in Tenaya Lake, reading the Sunday New York Times, and talking around the campfire. Hoards of hikers were all over the place, and when Birdnut, Beer Snob, GT, and MGD visited, it was a peculiar meeting of our "real" selves and our trail selves.

Today we went climbing! We met Graham, a climbing guide and friend of April (TPL) and Zack. We geared up and began the approach to Cathedral Peak, a decidedly pointy peak visible from all over Tuolumne Meadows. After an hour or so on the obvious climber's trail, we reached the base of the southeast ridge. Six pitches of 5.6 lay above. Graham led / hiked up, pausing only occasionally to place gear. Being on the rock was thrilling, but we definitely felt a bit out of our element. We enjoyed face-climbing on sharp protruding crystals, clean cracks, an awkward wedging chimney (especially since we carried packs), and blocky scrambles. Views from the card-table-sized summit were simply fabulous.

After some dicey scrambling, we were back on talus, and made our way back to the store in time for beer and ice cream.

-Dave

June 24, 2004
We hit the trail again this morning. After three days of being "Lexi," it's good to be "Wildflower" again.

The first few miles still had lots of people. We made the requisite stop at "Soda Springs" - a place where carbonated water bubbles out of the ground. We tried some, but it didn't taste very good.

The trail took us down the Tuolumne River past numerous large foaming waterfalls. Soon we were at Glen Aulin, a large "High Sierra Camp" complete with semi-permanent canvas tents and dining facilities. Once past that, we felt like we were really on the trail. The only folks we saw after Glen Aulin were fellow thru-hikers. Our day ended with dinner at the scenic Miller Lake and camp in Matterhorn Canyon a few miles later.

Since we spent a few days in Tuolumne, we're seeing different people now: Radar, whom we haven't seen since Mojave, Chinaman and Iceman, as well as several people that we haven't seen since Agua Dulce. It's a nice change.

-Lexi

June 25, 2004
Although Chinaman's thermometer indicated that it was in the low 30s this morning, it didn't feel cold. I suppose we're getting used to it.

Heading up the first of many hills, we met Porter. Gail had gotten off the trail at VVR and gone home, suffering from too much weight loss. She now has doctor's orders to sit on the couch and eat ice cream. We've been losing weight, but still feel fine. I'd like to keep it that way, so we might carry more food. Mmmm, more Hostess Fruit Pies!

As we climbed Benson Pass, rounded Smedberg Lake, and climbed Seavey Pass, there was little opportunity for rest. The mosquitoes were relentless; walking was the only way to avoid inundation. Granite peaks glowed orange as we climbed the flower-covered slabs of Macomb Ridge. Blooms of every color sprang from the rock.

Today we hiked 24 miles, the longest since before the Sierra. And the terrain will get easier. We'll be flyin'!

-Dave

June 26, 2004
After yesterday's 24 miles, which we completed around 8:30 PM, we got a slow start to the morning. The trail today was substantially easier than it's been lately: plenty of mellow ups and downs, but nothing very steep. Today's biggest challenge was the mosquitoes. Often the bugs were so thick that it was impossible to stop without being swarmed.

Later in the day we passed the 1000 mile mark. Wow! Even though I've walked every step of the way, it's a little hard for me to comprehend exactly how far that is.

We're in quite a different landscape now. We've left behind the granite domes of Tuolumne, and are instead surrounded by reddish volcanic mountains. The soil seems rockier and drier, though there are still plenty of streams. The ever-changing landscape is part of what makes this journey interesting.

-Lexi

June 27, 2004
This morning we climbed out of Kennedy Canyon and meandered along a ridge towards Sonora Pass. The dry rocky slopes were filled with flowers many of which we hadn't seen before.

The views were tremendous. To the south, we could see the granite domes and spires of Yosemite. On either side of us were red rocky volcanic ridges similar to what we were on. Bright green shrubs in the valleys stood out in stark contrast to the surrounding red.

Halfway along the ridge we met our friends Becca and Ian who had come to spend some time with us. We were pretty excited to see them since most of our arrangements for the meeting had taken place via voicemail, and we weren't quite sure that it would really work out.

We had a great time glissading down the almost 1000 foot snow chute down to Sonora Pass. I did the top part on my butt since it was steep. Dave did the whole run on his feet carving tele turns all the way down. With size 14 feet, he doesn't need skis!

Since our friends were car enabled, they took us down the hill to Kennedy Meadows Resort (known among thru-hikers as Northern Kennedy Meadows) to retrieve a resupply box that we had mailed from Independence.

Then we went off in search of real food. After being foiled by several restaurants which weren't interested in serving us between the hours of 3PM and 5PM, we ended up at the "Snack Shack" beside a large crowded lake. We ate our fried food while watching the masses lounge in floating plastic dolphins and frogs. After 8 weeks on the trail, it was a little surreal.

-Lexi

June 28, 2004
We are bringing our fat consumption to a whole new level:

Breakfast=12 donuts (split 3 � - 8 �) and 2 bananas

Lunch=16 oz. Ruffles potato chips; hard-boiled eggs; avocado, cheddar cheese and mustard (thanks Snack Shack) wrapped in tortillas.

Dinner=18 oz. egg noodles with 4 oz. parmesan cheese, 4 T. butter, 1 green pepper, and dehydrated veggies. Snickers for dessert.

After bidding farewell to Becca and Ian (who will be hiking JMT in August, hooray) we climbed north through the new volcanic landscape. All day dark clouds built up, moved around, and looked very threatening, but they never did anything. Meanwhile, the topography jumped around randomly. It was all very disorienting.

-Dave

June 29, 2004
The trail today continued to meander up, over, and around volcanic ridges. We ate a scenic lunch on a shoulder of Ebbetts Peak, just north of Ebbetts Pass.

The open ridges are awash in color from the huge variety of wildflowers: blue lupines, red paintbrush, yellow ragwort, and wild buckwheat, fuchsia, and purple penstemon, blue flax, and purple asters, just to name a few.

As seems to be the pattern lately, the clouds rolled in around 1 pm and started rumbling ominously. An hour or so later, it started to rain and thunder in earnest. As we were mostly in the woods, we continued. After a while, we met Matt and his friend JT, who has been hiking with him since Sonora Pass, hunkered down under a tree. It seemed more fun to endure the thunderstorm with company so we joined them. We put on our rain jackets (we don't have rain pants) to keep as dry as we could, and talked amiably while counting the seconds between lightening flash and thunderclap.

Soon we got cold enough that we either needed to move or set up our tent. As the rain seemed to have tapered off, we opted to keep going. We left Matt and JT making hot cocoa under the tree.

-Lexi

June 30, 2004
Blue Lake and its numerous stagnant brethren were home to enough mosquitoes to get us racing for tree line. The steep meadows around The Nipple and Elephant Back were filled with wildflowers.

Right on time the clouds began to build, and as we crossed the snowfields on the north slope of Elephant Back, we were looking up at a deep purple ceiling. Descending to Carson Pass, we were pummeled with hail the consistency of tiny snowballs.

The Visitor's Center at Carson pass had so many fabulous things: covered porch, lawn chairs, a heated inside, and friendly volunteers who gave us donuts. For the next four rainy hours we lounged on the porch, eating dinner, identifying plants, and getting funny looks from the steady stream of non-hikers. We got even more disreputable by taking out our sleeping bags.

At 5 pm the rain stopped, and we hiked another 7 miles. From our camp high above the Upper Truckee River we enjoyed alpenglow on the Carson Ridge.

-Dave

July 1, 2004
We arose to hazy, smoky skies. A forest Service Ranger later told us that the smoke was from a 1,000-acre lightening-started fire near Reno, Nevada. We hiked quickly to get to Echo Lake, our access point to South Lake Tahoe.

Ziggy, the owner of the South Shore Inn, picked us up and brought us down to town. After taking a bus to visit Post Office A, shopping to three sections of food, and carrying it past all the casinos to Post Office B, we were beat. We had considered hitting the All-You-Can-Eat buffet at Cesar's Palace, but after an hour on the phone chasing down new shoes for both of us, we didn't feel like going anywhere. So I picked up a six-pack of Fat Tire Amber and a pint of Chocolate Fudge Brownie, ordered a large veggie pizza, and we watched Star Trek on TV.

-Dave

July 2, 2004
We got a late start this morning as Ziggy has to wait for help to arrive at 11AM before he could give us ride back to the trail. After the craziness of the casino and ski/lake resort tours it was a relief to be walking again.

We stopped for a long break at Aloha Lake, where Dave painted and I soaked up the island speckled lake view. As we sat, the sky turned black and thunder rumbled. The water, at the bottom of the granite sided basin, turned blue-gray. Despite the threatening clouds, it rained only a little on us.

We continued gradually up from lake to lake intending to eat dinner at Gilmore Lake before heading over Dicks Pass. The lake, however, was infested dense swarms of mosquitoes. To save our sanity, and our tender skin, we grabbed water and headed up as fast as we could go, an angry buzzing cloud in hot pursuit!

Halfway up the pass, hunger became pressing enough to risk the bugs. We ate our dinner: tortellini with zucchini, fried wild onions that we had collected, cheese and spices. I love short resupply periods!

Fully sated, and only slightly mosquito bitten, we headed up to the top of the pass just in time for sunset. Magical light filled the sky. Streaks of fuchsia, orange, and purple shone as the light from the dying sun was reflected in the lingering clouds. Content, we made a high camp on the flats of the pass.

-Lexi

July 3, 2004
After yesterday's short hike, we still had 47 miles before our next resupply in Truckee, and only 2 days of food remaining. Instead of hiking hungry, we opted to hike long.

The trail was mellow and the mosquitoes wretched, so covering the distance wasn't a big problem. We swatted as we walked. The bugs let up by breezy Richardson Lake and were mellow at Barker Pass. There we partook of Meadow Mary's heavily decorated birthday cake -- a serious sugar hit.

We cooked dinner before climbing a long dry ridge. The day's biggest challenge was finding a flattish spot to camp. The steep rocky ridge was a bit bleak, so we retreated a short distance, descended some, and wedged the tent on the uphill side of a tree. It looked weird, but was plenty comfortable. We hiked close to 26 miles.

-Dave

July 4, 2004
We woke from our unlikely spot and continued along the ridge. After several largely wooded ups and downs, we ascended finally to Tinker Knob. A dry, narrow, open ridge stretched northward in front of us. We ambled along the ridge crest for several miles, taking in the expansive views. Something about this stretch of trail -- perhaps that it went directly along the ridge rather than around it, or perhaps its relatively gentle topography -- was very reminiscent of trails at home.

During the day we passed numerous day- and weekend-hikers out for the holiday. They came in various states of happiness and energy. Some of them stopped to talk about our trip. Even after all this time, it still is hard to explain why we're doing this to someone who has no idea why it might be fun.

After 21 miles, we arrived at Donner Pass. A quick phone call was all it took. The "quick" phone call involved walking .2 down the road to a ski condo, surprising an 85 year old handyman who let the sliding door he was attempting to install fall on him, rescuing the poor fellow and helping him to install the door, using his phone, and walking back, and soon we were riding in the car of Molly Person, wife of Pooh (Bill Person), on our way to their home, "Pooh Corner."

Throughout the month of July, the Persons invite PCT hikers into their home. They pick folks up at the trailhead, give them showers, do their laundry, feed them dinner, shuttle them to the nearby stores, and offer them a place to sleep. Their warmth and generosity are truly phenomenal.

Tonight there are around 20 hikers spending the night. A crew of us, including Radar, Scrote, and Iceman, came in today, joining some folks who have been here for a few days. In addition, a number of Bill and Molly's friends were over to celebrate the holiday. We had an all-American barbeque for thirty. After dinner, we all sat on the dock (the house is on Donner Lake) and watched the fireworks. Altogether, I think it's one of the nicest fourth-of-Julys I've ever had.

-Lexi

July 5, 2004
We were woken before 6 by the noise of breakfast preparations. Bill cooked huge piles of pancakes and scrambled eggs, and gave everyone a hard time when there were leftovers.

Bill drove us into Truckee where we bought food and a pair of new Montrail Vitesses to replace Lexi's worn Sauconys. For the rest of the day, we lounged in the Pooh Corner living room. Simply Divine.

At 5pm, Scrote, Iceman, and we returned to the trail, thanked Bill, and headed on our way. We hiked in seven miles to the Sierra Club's Peter Grubb Hut, an impressive stone and wood structure similar to the Tenth Mountain Division huts in Colorado. It even had a PV system and lights! The two-story privy was also an interesting sight (it snows so much you can't keep a ground-level privy dug out). It was so civilized: tables and benches, a kitchen counter, and Smithsonian and American Falconry magazines. Ahhh.

-Dave

July 6, 2004
We left a cozy, if somewhat dusty, Peter Grubb Hut this morning and continued on our way. We spent much of the day traversing open shrubby ridges that offered expansive views both to the east and west. In terrain like that, I continue to be thankful that the pattern of afternoon thundershowers we were in seems to have dissipated. When that was the weather, I spent most of the morning treading the afternoon, which definitely detracted from my enjoyment of the day.

We're not in the wilderness here anymore. We've been crossing many more roads and Jeep trails than I'm used to seeing. This afternoon, we circumnavigated Jackson Meadow Reservoir. Though we were never very near the water, the roar of jet skis and powerboats was always audible in the distance. Towards the end of the day, we passed into forest that had seen recent logging activity. After the pristine wilderness areas and National Parks, this is quite a change.

We've also been seen many more people. We met Kathy and Foster, a very cool husband-and-wife team doing contract trail maintenance work for the Forest Service. We also ran into a grandfather-son-grandson trio out for a week backpack trip. Grandfather was definitely running the show. He was doing great, but his son and grandson seemed pretty beat. All these encounters, like the changing scenery, add spice to our day.

Now we're camped in an old log yard next to a pile of discarded stumps and branches. Ahh... the lovely scenery of a "working" forests!

-Lexi