Day 87: Mile 993.3 - 1009.9
And because I feel I have been deliquent in describing the actual trail, today, a travelogue.
And in the morning I woke and tried to catch up on the writing of this blog. And made some headway--but not enough, the backlog is still days long--so that when I did finally start on the trail, who should I see but AC/DC and Outlast passing by my campsite! They didn't see me--the campsite is back amongst the trees--but I followed behind them for a bit until they noticed, then a bit further on caught up with Uno too. I expected Dylan to catch up at some point--he always would, usually around midday--but I didn't see him today. Anyway, would hike on and off with AC/DC and Outlast and Uno throughout the day. But let's get to the travelogue!
And we began in the Vale of Falls Creek, which is a narrow meadow but long, interspersed with woods, and home to many flies and mosquitos.
And we reached the Lake of Dorothy, which promised beaches on the north shore, but those beaches were thin and often their waters covered in pollen. Here did AC/DC and Outlast take a swim (and likely Dylan too), whereas I took breakfast at a rocky outcropping that sheltered a small bay clear of pollen.
And we crossed the Pass of Dorothy, and the path was marked by stones on either side, and wildflowers lining the path in greeting. And there was a sign announcing the beginning of Toiyabe--and hence the end of Yosemite--but it was fallen and the letter, though carved, faded.
And we passed through the Land of Boulder Fields, where stone of every which variety (from broad flats polished smooth, to jagged pinnacles jarring up from the dirt, to massive boulders sprinkled about, to loose stones tripping your steps), went every which way, and the trail had to be picked out, and the footing had to be careful.And here was water here, eager for minimal energy as it careened down fields.
And we passed the Land of Lakes,
And we entered the Land of Walker River, and crossed at a Bridge, and here did Uno and AC/DC and Outlast stop for lunch, but as I had had breakfast but recently, I continued on alone.
And I entered the Land of Foothills, the space between the tumbles of the granite mountains and the serenity of the stalwart pines. And there was a meadow too, sheltered by the pines. And this Land was long, and as I walked the granite underfoot gave way to loose rock, like pottery shards, and I looked up and saw the mountains had changed.
For here the last granite mountain stood, and the mountains that flanked it were earthen--of fabulous shape and radical hue--but earthen nonetheless. And I knew that our time in the Sierras was drawing to a close, and I found myself mourning that it had gone by so fast.
And I turned into Kennedy Canyon, and was relieved to hear rushing water. For the last two creeks had been dry, although Guthooks alleged them "flowing". And the way to Sonora Pass is dry for nigh 10-miles before, so water must be managed properly, and knowing the last viable source becomes paramount.
And I stopped at Kennedy Canyon Creek to take lunch, to charge via solar panel, and to gather water for the carry to Sonora Pass. And though I took my time, nobody caught up, so eventually I resumed on my own.
And I passed into the High Drylands, where already drought had begun. The rivulets on the far slopes were dry, even the ones with snow tops, and the streambeds crossing the meadowlands were naught but bleached pebbles, and the green of the meadowlands themselves is already going to gray.
And I climbed past the treeline, into Land of the Long Switchback, where I stopped to hop into every shadow from a solitary tree or bush. And the going was slow, for the climb was constant, although it became easier in the second half. And I thought to myself, this is a truck trail, like the ones back home, and look, you can see the end over there, and that gave me hope enough to climb to the top.
And I entered into the Land of Barren Slopes, where the trail is but a shelf riding along the curve of a bowl. And as I entered into this Land, I did look back, wistful, and see the granite tops of the Sierras behind. But at least now I was on top of the world, which was an exciting consolation. For here the Land is harsh and unforgiving, the wind gusting and loud, and the heights, laid bare, palpable and to one such as me who fears them, unkind.
And even in this Barren Land, still there are spots--small curves--where the trees might grow, likely fed by persistent snow, and amongst these sometimes one might find protection from the wind and even, if lucky, a flat spot to pitch a tent. And I did, and I did, and here I am.
And as I was preparing to sleep, lo and behold who should I hear over yonder ridge but the voices of Outlast and AC/DC, of Dylan and Uno (well, maybe not Uno), and they did arrive at this place which we had preappointed, and our meeting was happy.
And as they set up their tents and prepared for the night, a crescent moon rose over a red-lined horizon, the morning star bright beside it, and Day gave way to Night.
And that was the hike!
-- Campsite > Dorothy Lake > Dorothy Lake Pass > Walker River > Kennedy Canyon Creek > Campsite
-- Guthooks had actually alleged campsites about 0.7 miles ahead of this spot and I--being ambitious--had originally headed over there. But I couldn't find them. I shed my pack and wandered up and the down the scree slopes, but I couldn't find any of the alleged sites. Maybe a spot or two, but only good for cowboy camping, the spaces very small and sometimes contorted under tree branches. So I hiked back to here, where I had seen good sites and remembered, but had hoped for better further on. I set up my tent, and scouted for additional tent sites. This spot is largish, so can probably fit two comfortable, three in a pinch (which is what we're doing), and there were some prime cowboy camping spots next door in the bowers of the bushes.
-- Today I met Cheez-it, an older guy, albeit but briefly. First at Dorothy Lake where he was talking with Uno, then again here at the campsite where he arrived after me, and ended up setting up in a spot a bit further up the trail. Seems a nice guy, very amicable, but he's an older guy and beat from the Sierras. He's planning to head into Kennedy Meadows North tomorrow on the 10am shuttle--just like the rest of us--then probably take a zero tomorrow to recuperate. For me, I was debating it throughout the day, but I *do* think I need to take a zero soon to recuperate, I just think I can delay it until South Lake Tahoe where things will be more expensive to be sure, but where I'll also be able to make full use of the privileges of civilization (Kennedy Meadows North looks to be a glorified campsite, perhaps a cut above Kennedy Meadows South but only a single cut--nice, but a campsite nonetheless).
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