It was another cold night. We were cowboy camping on some rocks at 10,600 feet, the apparent invisible line above which snow becomes the dominant terrain feature. We were on the trail by 7:15am, with a goal of crossing two high passes in one day. Almost immediately we hit snow fields of sun cupped snow. Despite the snow being hard and crusty in the early morning, taking steps was difficult and treacherous. It took 3 hours to get up to Pinchot Pass and forever to get down in snow, snow, snow; then snow and rocks and water on the trail. Once we got past Lake Marjorie the snow became intermittent patches and we were able to make some time.
We spent a lot of time in the afternoon fording fast moving streams. By mid-afternoon we were hiking to try and get over Mather Pass, a very steep pass. The first 1,000 foot climb to the South Fork of the Kings River ford was gradual and basically snow free. We reached the ford at 4:30pm; some in the group wanted to break for dinner, others wanted to push on up and over the pass. There was quite a bit of tension and stress building up with all of us, due to exhaustion and pressure to do miles so we don’t run out of food. After much discussion and not without dissent, we decided to hike to the base of the steep climb up the pass.
Almost immediately we hit snow fields, and in the late afternoon sun the snow was very soft, making progress very difficult as we slid and punched through to our waist at times. Freight Train led the way as we made our way from rock outcrop to rock outcrop with tough snow fields and rivers of runoff in between. My feet stayed wet all day and it was pointless to even think about taking off shoes and socks to cross the rivers.
About 6pm we convened on some rocks and decided to eat dinner. I raised the question about waiting to cross the steep snow covered pass until morning as I was worn to the bone and knew we weren’t working well together with our cumulative exhaustion. Pepper Jack was against making the climb; I was very hesitant; the rest of the group, including our new member Scotland (from Scotland, of course) thought it would be best to tackle the pass while we had soft snow. All I could think about was how poor the decision to go might turn out if we had an injury or someone slipped and fell hundreds of feet. But the point about soft snow did make some sense rather than waiting until tomorrow morning when it would be icy and crusty.
After dinner we decided to go for it. We climbed on rocks, then traversed across a steep slope in snow. The footing was decent, thanks to Freight Train, who made solid steps on the traverse. I slipped two or three times, but my ice axe held me in place so I didn’t slide off the mountain. We had to traverse avalanche debris which in addition to being a steep traverse had unpredictable snow to cross as well. Eventually we hit a series of steep switchbacks. Some were so snow covered we opted to hike straight up the mountain side on the rocks and loose scree, going hand and foot (nearly vertical and as close to being a technical climb as possible). The vertical climbing was scary and taxing and any slip would have resulted in injury. We finally reached the last switchback, but there was a large cornice of snow across the pass, which made getting up and over daunting. Instead, Freight Train climbed higher on the rocks, followed by Scotland, then me.
Once we were high enough we were able to step over the cornice and to the top of the pass. Bloody Knuckles and Pepper Jack followed. Intruder and Batteries decided to tackle the cornice and made it. Whew! What a dangerous, crazy thing we had just done! Now it was 7:30pm, the sun was setting, and we had to come down from 12,100 feet. We began a long, slow traverse across snow on a fairly steep slope. After a half hour we turned to hike straight down the slope to lose as much elevation as possible; sliding and eventually glissading some in the cold snow.
We hiked and postholed until almost dark, still in slushy deep snow. We reached a small rock outcrop where Intruder and I both stated that we needed to find a campsite as soon as possible. A couple of folks in the group wanted to continue. I was completely physically and emotionally exhausted, and emphasized that we had already taken great risk and we needed to stop. The group agreed, and although the large rock offered poor sleeping options (not level at all), it was better than continuing to posthole and slip and slide in snow in the dark.
Worn, we all quickly rolled out mattresses and sleeping bags and quickly went to sleep. I was having problems all day (ever since I’ve been in the Sierras I’ve had trouble breathing and likely have a sinus infection). Both nostrils were bleeding when I used some Afrin at dinner time and I couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, even in the sleeping bag. I was way too tired to even dream of journaling and as soon as the sun went down, it was so freaking cold! My feet especially were cold and wet and once in the sleeping bag it took over an hour for my feet and hands to warm up. The Sierras are kicking my butt and I can never remember being so completely worn down from hiking. Truth be told, negotiating 180 miles of snow laden, rugged country is more than just a hike; it’s pure survival. Four to five more days and we’ll be through it, though.
Today’s weather: sunny, low 30, high 75. Today’s mileage: 14.2; cumulative mileage: 818.9.
