Today was a tough day and we felt like we were dragging for no particular reason. Although I thought I had slept well last night it took a lot of effort to get out of bed. Our bags were damp with dew and we had to take some time to dry them, so we were late getting out of camp. From the minute we started all I could think about was crawling back into my bag at the end of the day…not a good sign.
Our first goal was another crossing of the Kern 3 miles away. We set off under the pines, serenaded by the cicadas rasping in the trees. It’s nice to hear bug noises again after the desert. Last night we even had some crickets. The trail climbed gently, a pleasant start to the day, and before long we reached the river and the arched bridge there. We took a break to do some laundry and relax, and to watch the swallows that live under the bridge. They would all come and go at once – everyone chattering as they swooped down to find their nest, then a few minutes of silence, then a repeat as they all took to the sky again. Further down the river a fly fisherman was catching trout. It was a lovely spot to rest but we had to move on eventually.
Right away we started a climb over the grassy slopes of the meadow and up the Cow Creek drainage. We crossed the creek a few times. It was down to a trickle and we were a little worried about being able to get water from it further up. We climbed slowly under our heavy loads, a little disappointed that it was so tough when yesterday it seemed easier. My feet were bothering me a little – my insoles decided to cause trouble all of a sudden and it was causing a few hotspots. Later I would find that I got my first two blisters of the trip – big ones! We climbed and rested, climbed and rested, up what should have been a fairly easy trail. The altitude and weight of our packs were catching up with us.
Finally we reached the final creek crossing, which was still trickling and not too gross. Even though this wasn’t yet the halfway point for the day we stopped for lunch and for another long rest. We sat down to eat and couldn’t keep our eyes open. I actually dozed off with food in my mouth. We couldn’t figure out why we were so tired, but we didn’t need any more reason to take a nap. This wasn’t as restful as hoped, between the hot sun and the bugs and ants stopping by to check us out, but it was much better than just pushing on.
Eventually we gave in and hit the trail again. Our resolve was helped by the fact that we only had 500 more feet to gain before starting a descent that would last the rest of the day. We climbed to Gomez Meadow, another stretch of green, and from there slowly headed towards the saddle in the woods that would be our high point for the day at over 10,000 feet. From the top we could see sharp Sierra peaks to the north…and very little snow. Whitney lay to the northwest, just a few days away. I had taken out my insoles at lunch and my feet felt much better.
We started down towards Death Creek in an easy descent through open pine forest. Some of the trees were twisted and snapped off from some epic long-ago windstorm. One lying on the ground had long since lost its bark and we could see that the grain was corkscrewed along the entire length. When we reached the meadow and the creek we found that Death Creek looked like death warmed over. The reddish water was scummy and stagnant. Thank goodness there was a spring nearby. The area past the creek was open and gravelly with a bunch of boulders scattered around. It was tough to pick among all the nice spots.
Once we got our groundsheet down we dropped our packs and went in search of the spring. Once we found it – very little flow but way better than the creek – we also found Packman, who was camped there and had the place all to himself. We seem to be in a strange bubble between groups of hikers because we’ve hardly seen anyone since we left town. We chatted with him for a while as we filled our water bags. He’s from South Lake Tahoe, which we’ll reach in a few weeks as we end the Sierra. Tahoe is on the border and there are casinos across the state line in Nevada. The reason this is important is because said casinos have all you can eat buffets, and hikers coming out of the Sierra could probably actually eat a horse. Weeks away and we’re already thinking about them.
Water in hand, we said goodnight to Packman and headed back to our own camp where I could at last crawl into my bag like I’d been craving all day. Before I could rest I had to do a little foot doctoring. The worse of the two blisters was under the now-concrete callus at the base of my big toe, sticking out to one side. No wonder it had been hurting. A sterilized needle and some leukotape fixed everything up and hopefully it won’t cause me any more problems. I’d hate to develop foot problems at this point in our hike. Hopefully we’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight and have an easier day tomorrow.
– Posted from the PCT
Location:Pct mile 731