Day 62: Mile 745.3 - 750.8
I always say that every day something goes dramatically wrong out here. But then it's still pretty amazing.
In terms of trail, today was getting a hitch to Horseshoe Meadows, going up Trail Pass, making a wrong turn at the Trail Pass-PCT junction, wasting about a half mile descending down switchbacks only to realize I made a wrong turn and then have to climb back up them again, then hiking out to Chicken Spring Lake. All in all, on paper a very short day--just 5.5 PCT miles, but on the feet closer to 9.7 miles adding in Trail Pass and the Wrong Turn. On the whole, not bad for a day that starts at 2 pm.
The Wrong Turn: that was the "dramatically wrong" for the day.
As for the amazing, well, let me tell you. First, to get a hitch back to Horseshoe Meadows (non-trivial: it's a 30+ minute drive up the mountain to over 9,000 feet), I decided to head over to Elevation Sierra Adventure--one of the three gear stores in Lone Pine--and seek their advice. As I'm asking there's a guy right there who says, hey, we've arranged a ride for later today, around 12:30pm. It's $60 but if we split it three ways--there's me, this other girl, and now you--it'll be only $20. Yeah, I'd be up for that, I said. Lucky! Elevation has a hiker hangout spot next to the store, outside but covered with tables, and we waited there, chatting about the trail. At one point, the "other girl" walks in and, lo and behold, I recognize her: it's Cookie Pie from the Big Bear hostel. I hadn't seen her since Splinters Cabin! I'd seen her name in various trail registers so I knew she was still out here, but didn't think I'd catch up. We got to talking and catching up; she had stayed with the group from Big Bear for a while, but they had ultimately been moving too fast, so she had slowed to her own pace. Talking with Cookie I quickly fell into old patterns, which is strange if you think about it: I knew her for only a few days around Big Bear, but I felt like we were old friends. It's likely helped by Cookie's conversational style, easy and smooth without ruffles, sliding readily from topic to topic, all with a voice that remains calm and even (which makes sense; she does developmental work with very young children). But we talked at Elevation, and then we talked during the ride up to Cottonwood Pass, about all manner of things, from this trail, to other trails and places she's been around here (she recommended some hot springs around Mammoth, for example), to places she wants to go (she's thinking of arranging some car-camping for her friends around Alabama Hills, which is just outside of Lone Pine, for example). It was great to see her, so great to see someone from that group from so long ago! We would split up at the trailhead--I would take Trails Pass and then do 5 PCT miles from there to Chicken Spring Lake, whereas she would take Cottonwood Pass which pretty much goes directly to Chicken Spring Lake--but we would meet up again at the lake where I recognized her extra food bag outside her tent (which she used for just the first day--by the first night everything fit into the bear canister), and we would talk some more over our respective dinners. It just made me very happy to see an old friend, and I enjoyed it immensely, went around with a big smile. At dinner we got to talking with Hummus Dancer, who's section hiking, and I talked about ultra-running (he was aware of Timothy Olsen's current FKT attempt, and is a big fan of Courtney) (no, I can't remember how to spell her last name, but if you know ultra-running, you know who Courtney is), and I think I was all the more friendly and engaging exactly because I was feeling good from meeting up with an old friend.
And finally, what about the trail itself? Over this stretch the PCT starts walking through these high meadows which are pretty amazing. When you think of meadow, you think of grass, maybe a little stream going through it, maybe ringed by trees, but not these meadows. Maybe it's because its such a dry year, but these meadows are piebald: there's little runs of grass, sure, but swirled around them are strands of brush in darker green, twists of dry grass in gold, speckles of huge boulders sprinkled about, and every now and then a stand of conifers tall and shady. It looks like a finger painting slowly but nonetheless randomly traced by a child (right before impulse kicks in and they just start slapping the page with painted fingers), but it does make for interesting viewing: the eye can wander through all the details, can decide, oh, I'd camp over there, under that stand of conifers, next to where the boulders ripple down the slope in a seeming stream. And it would be great and idyllic, except that there's no water in any of them, so it'd all be dry camping and you'd have to hike a few miles to get a drink. But if you're just hiking by anyway, they're really quite beautiful if you stop and look.
And that was the hike!
-- Lone Pine > Cottonwood Campground > Trail Pass > Cottonwood Pass > Chicken Spring Lake
-- I had been to Elevation yesterday, twice: first to get my sleeping bag stuff sack repaired (I had bought a new buckle--a 15 mm screw-bar buckle, evidently the rarest of types!--at Triple Crown back in Kennedy Meadows, but didn't have the bag itself with me at the time to effect the repair; so I stopped into Elevation with the bag and borrowed a screwdriver) and to buy a fuel canister (the motel I stayed at in Lone Pine didn't have a hiker box). The second time was when I realized I needed electrolytes and dropped in about 15 minutes before closing to grab some. (The second time, the guy behind the counter said, ok, apply the hiker discount, and I said, how do you know I'm a hiker, is it the way I look or the way I smell?--I hadn't showered yet. And he said, I overheard you talking about it just now. Nice save, I said, nice save.) There are three gear shops in Lone Pine (being the town at Whitney Portal, there are plenty of people in town looking for gear), and I picked Elevation a bit at random: when I was looking for gear shops yesterday, one was closed and the other happened to be further away from where I was at. But Elevation seems to do well by hikers--their little hiker hangout evidence of that--and the people in there are pretty nice and willing to help. They took my old fuel canister to dispose of (hmm, a little left the guy said as he shook it, maybe we'll make a cup of tea) and when they didn't have the Hydration IV electrolyte I usually use, recommended the Nuum and even the flavor. So, yeah, if I'm in Lone Pine again and need gear, I'll probably drop by there.
-- Another cute story: Cookie showed up at Elevation sipping at a smoothie, which looked so good that Hangn' Out and me went to get one ourselves. We went across the street, but didn't see the coffee shop Cookie had mentioned, so instead walked into a Cafe. Two?, the waitress said, greeting us at the door. Actually, I said, remembering Ghost's advice of "don't be bashful", do you guys sell smoothies? Oh, she said, no, but, and she proceeded to walk out the door with us and point out a couple places down the street where they did. One of which was the coffee shop Cookie had mentioned. But that was something: for her to not only refer us to other restaurants, but then to happily hop out of her restaurant into the midday desert heat and point them out, well, that's something I, at least, didn't expect! Don't be bashful, sure, but also: people will surprise you, and sometimes delightfully so! (Hangn' Out and I got fruit smoothies at the coffee shop--peach mango something-berry--and they were really good, by the way. Hangn' Out especially appreciated it: cooled down the core enough that he could almost stand the heat when we went back outside!)
-- On the way *down* Trails Pass yesterday, I had taken a wrong turn somewhere (good at those, evidently) and ended up having to make my own path across the meadows. So as is my wont, on the way back, I tried to find where I had gone wrong. But I couldn't find it: going up, I kept a lookout, but didn't see an obvious diverting path and by the time I checked Guthooks, I had passed the junction. So I'm still not sure how I took a wrong turn on the way down. There was one spot that *might* have been the junction, but the "wrong way" there was pretty clearly blocked by a intentionally placed branch, and plus the trail beneath it still looked familiar, suggesting I had taken the correct turn at that spot. Hmm, strange.
-- Also on the way up to Trails Pass, I passed by hikers heading down, and was able to hopefully divert them to avoid the mistakes and confusion that I have suffered. Mostly around the difference between the Cottonwood Campground--which you arrive at first, and which has cars, but is for long-term camping and so has less traffic--and Horseshoe Meadows--which is further north, past the equestrian area, but has the day-hiker parking lot which should have higher traffic and is the one recommended. I met Mash coming down, and also Tags--distinctive in his high-front Aloha cap and kilt--and was able to chat with them a bit about getting-into-town strategies.
-- Yesterday I met Max and Marina. Actually, I had met them earlier, at Kennedy Meadows during Legend's dinner, but yesterday I got to talk to them more when they headed into Lone Pine. I met them at the grocery store--they had just gotten in--and they were looking to arrange a room. They half-jokingly asked if I perhaps wanted to split the cost of my room by a third?, and I thought about it, and then said, yeah, sure, if you can't find a place you can crash on my floor, but they were eventually able to arrange a spot at Hidden Valley (which is supposed to be one of the best trail angel houses on the PCT or somesuch). After we left the grocery store, and I diverted to check out some gear stuff, we would meet up again at the pizza place and get dinner. Marina is from Canada, had gone to McMaster (which I recognized as a strong engineering school--did Greg Scott go there?--she was just surprised that I'd heard of the place), and was a few years out from that. Back in the day, she had done volleyball, and with sports on the TV--albeit baseball--we discussed that a bit, how the strategy works (she prefers the 6-person game to the 2-person beach volleyball game), how serving can be similar to pitching (in terms of the kind of spin you can put on the ball: evidently there's even a volleyball-serve equivalent of the knuckleball), how as a spectator she actually liked the faster speed and greater power of the men's game. She had worked for the airline industry for a bit coming out of university, but that was behind her and she was contemplating going in a new direction and becoming a lawyer. To which Max said, if you want to be a lawyer, you're going to have to start being a lot less nice, to which I said, well, you're interested in the transactional side rather than the litigative, so you may be ok. Speaking of Max, he's from the Boston area, and while he doesn't have the accent, he does still have that Boston jab-you-in-the-ribs snark. He had worked a lot in New Zealand doing outdoorsy stuff, but had ended up back in the States due to COVID. He wanted to get back out there--had all the proper New Zealand certifications and everything--but New Zealand is still pretty closed up. They had been hiking together for a while now and gotten used to each other; her bright but nonetheless clear-eyed outlook, his penchant for terribly inappropriate jokes (that took me a second to work out which deflated their humor somewhat, but, sure, I could see them killing with more savvy folks).
-- Speaking of sharing a room, there was a possible debacle yesterday due to my largess. So Max and Marina had asked to share a room and I had said yeah, sure, but then I had also gotten a text from Hangn' Out asking the same. He had managed to get into Horseshoe Meadows that night, but was having trouble getting a hitch out--it was too late, and ultimately he would camp there and get a hitch this morning. But he was a day early, so didn't have a reservation. So he had asked yesterday, if he had managed to get into town, if he could crash on my floor. So at one point I had three potential roommates--in the end, I would have none--but at one point, they were floating about in the wind. But they all had different probabilities associated with them, and Max and Marina's stint at Hidden Valley seemed pretty certain, actually, so I was fine with it. Hangn' Out would come in this morning, and I'd get a text from him asking if I was up and would like to get breakfast. I was, just barely, and we did in fact get breakfast, at the Alabama Hills Cafe, where he got pancakes (it seems the pancake breakfast at Kennedy Meadows--which he had gotten twice while I was there--had left an impression) and I got the Iron Man omellete and a bunch of fruit (because I always try to get fruit and veg on the day I head out of town--going to be missing that for the next few days!). It was a good breakfast, and he'd come by and crash in my room afterward--lay down and be straight asleep--while I got my gear into shape. But that makes sense: he left Kennedy Meadows a day after me, but had caught up, meaning what'd taken me three days to do, he'd done in two!
-- Throughout the day, I kept hearing rumbles overhead, and couldn't tell if they were jets--which seem to like to buzz these mountains--or thunder. There were some dark gray clouds brooding behind me after I starting going the right way along the PCT, but they seemed to be always behind, never coming overhead. They approached a bit at Chicken Spring Lake, but by then didn't seem that threatening: I'm worried a bit about the wind, but not really about precipitation.
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