The PCT Volume 19 Redux: Katie and I Get Back On the Trail (Barely)

[Brad Young]

The word redux means “brought back; revived.”

Katie and I did that over the last few days. Sort of.

Regular readers of this long, long series of trip reports know that our family PCT journey started with both daughters and me at the Mexican border in 2007. Then and now we've been wonderfully supported on these hikes by my wife Vicki.

Daughter Katie's part of the journey "ended" in 2013. She finished a trip with us that summer by hiking out to Lake Thomas Edison, almost 900 trail miles from the Mexican border (she's occasionally joined us for parts of the trail since then, but her "continuous, from-the-border" footsteps ended with that trip). We left the day after that hike for her orientation at U.C.S.B.  She headed off to attend college there that same summer. Here's a link to what was Katie's last PCT trip:

http://www.mudncrud.com/forums/index.php?topic=1903.0


Over  the ensuing eight years, Katie's finished university and become a backpacking guide. For years now she's guided hiking and backpacking trips in Yosemite and Yellowstone, finding winter work at ski resorts and restaurants. She's got a hell of a good life, centered part of the year in California, and most of it in Montana. Vicki and I are extremely proud of the woman she's become.

This week, Katie had time off between guiding a trip in Yosemite and other, California, friend-centered activities. She asked if I would do a backpacking trip with her while she had time. Naturally I agreed immediately. She left the itinerary up to me and I thought it'd be fun to “re-start” the PCT by way of a five day backpack. Obviously we would resume where she left off in 2013.

On Sunday, Vicki drove us down to the Bear Ridge Trailhead next to Lake Thomas Edison:










Smoke from the Sequoia fire was terrible in the Central Valley while we drove. It got quite a bit better though as we gained elevation on the drive in. Smoke was only “noticeable” when we started hiking and by the end of the day it was  probably only at a “1” on a scale of 1 to 10:







We hiked 5.7 miles on Bear Ridge Trail, to the point on the PCT where Katie had left in 2013 (two shots, one from 2013, one from this trip):







We then continued 4.2 miles on the PCT itself, including a long, long 2,000 foot plus descent to Mono Creek (where we camped):













A fairly late arrival left us to clean up trail-dusty legs in the creek, fix dinner by headlamp, and then crawl into bed.

Between the driving and the extra hiking getting back to where we'd previously left off, getting today's "bit" of the PCT done was a significant production. Small though it was, I went to bed quite happy to get this little bit done and even happier to be set up for more actual PCT milage over the next few days.

[Brad Young]

The smoke yesterday affected Katie quite a bit. She "felt like she had a cold" after we'd been hiking for just a few hours. I didn't notice it  much, but I've learned over the years to listen to Katie's thoughts and opinions. Especially if/when she tells me she's not enjoying herself (it takes a while, as they grow up, when you're a dad).

As we went to bed last night, we hoped that colder, down-canyon, night-time breezes would blow the smoke away and that we’d wake up to clear skies.

It didn't work out that way though. I woke up first. In the half light it looked very smoky. As it got lighter it became apparent that the smoke was not only not gone, it was present and really, really bad. It was so bad that, even after it got fully light, I couldn't see the canyon walls to either side (stare at the first shot to dimly make out a canyon wall):







Katie woke up and noticed the air “quality” immediately. To say the least, she didn't like the idea of hiking in air this "thick." Yesterday's hike gave her a splitting headache in addition to the common cold symptoms, and air like this will only be worse.

I felt like continuing regardless of the smoke, but I also understood that it wouldn't be pleasant. I made it clear that I'd be good if Katie wanted to hike out instead of continuing. After considering options (continuing on and/or different possible exit points) and satellite-texting back-and-forth with Vicki we decide that continuing would be just too miserable (and, as Katie pointed out, an intended highlight of the day, the peak we'd hoped to summit which is just off our trail, wouldn't just be miserable, there wouldn't be any views from its top either).

Our exit would be by way of Lake Thomas Edison. Six miles of fairly level hiking to a point only half a mile from where we'd started yesterday. This seemed like a bummer, but the conditions absolutely called for it; it’s clear that we won't enjoy hiking in these conditions at all (pun semi-intended).

The bigger bummer though is that Vicki’s got to drive all the way back to pick us up after continuing on to her sister's house in Los Angeles yesterday. Two back-to-back 11 hour driving days for poor Vicki! Yuck. She’s understanding and willing though, and so the three of us (Halifax included, of course) start the hike out:







The air has been bad to look at. Actually hiking in it though is much worse. Eyes and lungs feel it. Although the trail is fairly flat the slight  uphills makes these parts burn with heavier breathing. I for one feel like I'm near a campfire and the smoke won't stop following me around. Damn. Although we started the discussion this morning with different views, Katie was right. Look at this crap - the sun itself barely burns through (Katie later checks the Air Quality Index near the lake and shocks me with the number - 229):













As we hike Katie makes it clear that she's willing to come back, again, and pick up where we've just left off. And with the 4.2 mile "connecting" section of trail done, we can ride the Lake Edison ferry for five miles on a subsequent trip (the water is way too low in the lake and it isn't running this year). We talk about maybe coming back next June, in cleaner, clearer conditions, with more water.

She's a pretty busy woman, but she seems to make time for me. We’ll see what we can get done.

[briham89]

Bummer about the smoke, but super cool that you guys "restarted" where you left off.

[Brad Young]

...but super cool that you guys "restarted" where you left off.

Yep. And to think, you were around here when she thought that I was the least cool substance in the universe....

[clink]

 "Yep. And to think, you were around here when she thought that I was the least cool substance in the universe...."

 I remember you telling me about those days and could relate so well. (rephrase)

 

[Brad Young]

^^^

You might as well just retire Clink (and give me all your climbing gear).

You're never gonna do better than naming routes:

-  Joaquin the Dog

-  Rituals and Magic.

Give it up.

[clink]

 I did retire after Mud Diamond. Just a mobile anchor now, once in a blue moon, as when you finished the taking Rituals and Magic to join Feather Canyon.

 You can borrow my hammer.

 Cheers on battling the smoke. I took Johnny and Ali south for 5 days. We managed to keep moving about day ahead of the arrival of the smoke. Until the last day. it was bad.

 

[Brad Young]

Alright, heading eastbound to Lake Thomas Edison with Katie, Vicki and the dogs. All conditions look good. Fingers crossed for resuming where we left off 22 months ago.

[NOAL]

Between there and Donahue Pass is such a wonderful area!  Hope your hike is skeeter free.  Have Fun!

[Brad Young]

Fantastic. And now Vicki never has to drive that fucking road again.

[Brad Young]

An excellent trip! In some ways the opposite of our attempt in October, 2021. Blue, blue skies and ideal temperatures. Both of us feeling great (Halifax too). We did well. Katie has now passed 900 miles of continuous walking on the PCT.

But before the photos and trip report, interested readers should consider two others. First, perhaps, re-read the report of my and Tricia’s trip from 10 years ago (linked above). Lots of similarities in covering the same part of the PCT but also lots of differences. A fun comparison. Consider also visiting Katie’s Instagram site “Dirtbag Barbie” for her perspective on this trip. Vicki shows me some of her posts there (I’m not on it), and her stuff is very good; well thought out, engaging and fun.

EDIT: The trip report for my and Tricia's same miles isn't linked above. Here it is:

http://www.mudncrud.com/forums/index.php?topic=1911.0

Day One, August 4:

This trip started with the dreadful drive to Vermillion Valley Resort at Lake Thomas Edison. It’s a wonderful resort, with a stellar reputation among PCT and John Muir Trial hikers for how it treats the all-summer stream of foot-borne traffic. But the last 20 miles of the “paved” road in takes over an hour. At least it gave time to see perfect skies:




And, eventually, it, that dreadful drive, was over. We did last minute packing while we waited for the seven mile ferry ride to the lake’s upper end (the lake’s full after last winter - when Tricia and I did the ride it took us only three quarters of the lake’s distance):







We eventually walked over to the ferry and waited there (notice the dog - our dog - in the water having demanded a fetch game while we waited for the ferry captain to show up):







And the ride (notice the completely clear skies!!):







From the end of the lake it’s a 0.7 mile hike back to the PCT and the John Muir Wilderness:







My camera malfunctioned in that the lens aperture wasn’t opening all the way. I ended up just nudging the edge of it with a fingernail each time I used it. But I didn’t notice this problem the first time I used the camera and this somewhat artistic photo of Katie resulted (accidental artistry?):




With the long drive in to VVR, we had to take the 4:00 p.m. ferry. This left little time for hiking but we went for it anyway and got in four miles before calling it a day (of mostly uphill). A nice and somewhat viewful “bench” off the trail was home for the night:

[Brad Young]

Day Two, August 5:

Sometimes PCT trips center on how many miles can be done. This is certainly true for through-hikers who’ve got 2,650.1 miles to do in a single season. They’ve got their own specialized language centered on making miles and therefore progress. For example, through-hikers call a rest day a “zero day.”

Ten years ago Tricia and I were doing this section and going for miles. We had three days for the backpack part of the trip and were just off from a nine day venture earlier in the month. We wanted to get more done that summer. Tricia and I had storms while we hiked too.

This 2023 trip was different. Katie had five days to spend and I still felt that the trip ten years ago hadn’t left much time to “look around,” although getting the miles done then had it’s own type of high, high satisfaction too.

The looking around part of this trip started today.

First a fairly cold start, uphill for miles, heading to Silver Pass along the High Sierra’s Silver Divide:










We encountered a certain flower this morning that was almost phosphorescent even when in the shade:




Past cascades, up onto canyon walls, still gaining elevation:










A long, south-to-north valley south of Silver Pass is very open. At around 10,000 feet, Silver Pass Lake was still somewhat iced over:







Katie has been a professional backpacking guide now for six summers. The ease with which she operates while backpacking is amazing. All systems go, ready in any situation. I absolutely LOVED hanging out with her:




One of the ways I hoped to see more this trip was by climbing a peak or two while were out. For through-hikers (and for me and Tricia) the time to summit a peak isn’t well spent - there are miles to go. On this trip Katie was up for taking time to see the Silver Divide more carefully (actually, she was “down” for doing this, but kids these days use weird language - when one wants to do something, one is “up” for it, not “down" for it… right Katie?).

Today we went for unnamed Peak 12,221 which fairly dominates all of Silver Pass and the surrounding area. It’s southwest side is a class two hike up:










About two thirds of the way up we stopped to eat lunch. One of the absolute treats of gaining elevation in the High Sierra made an appearance where we stopped. This treat, a flower called Polemonium Eximium (Sky Pilot in plain English), grows only in the higher reaches of the range. Masses of purple blooms catch the eye, but the scent is heavenly. Picture lupine, but not at all a faint aroma like one gets with lupine. This flower is just plain wonderful:







After lunch, Katie was having a light ankle issue and decided to go down. Halifax and I continued the long slog and summited:







The views from 12,221 included, to the south, our starting point: Lake Thomas Edison:




And to the north, The Minarets, Mount Ritter and Banner Peak (all west of Mammoth Lakes):




Once back on the trail we quickly reached Silver Pass:




Although its south side was relatively snow-free, the north side still had serious snow coverage. We both did sitting glissades down 100 feet of steeper snow (and found it hard to supress giggles while we did so):







Once over the pass, more snow and non-snow hiking took us past still frozen Chief Lake:










And shortly we found a semi-sheltered spot, up really high, with nice views and nearby water, just off the trail. It was only 3:00, but we’d done a heck of a lot of up for the day and decided to stay:




This had been one of my great days in the High Sierra. Spent with Katie and with time to get to know the area a little. Life simply doesn’t get any better.

[Brad Young]

Day Three, August 6:

It might seem curious and a bit luxurious, but on this trip Katie and I brought a portable dishwasher:




Another cold start (the stream near camp had almost a quarter inch of ice on it). At least today we were in sunshine. And that same dishwasher went crazy running across the snow banks:




Lots of downhill to get to Fish Creek:







Fish Creek is a major drainage which flows west from the Sierra crest to the San Joaquin River. It was raging and we were glad that it is bridged:




The trail continues upstream to Tully Hole (a name that seems to me would belong better in the southwest desert):







A big climb follows up to gorgeous Lake Virginia (different than the Virginia Lakes near Lee Vining - how frequently such names get recycled in so many places):










Wild onions were so prolific near this part of the trail that their aroma filled the air:




After a very leisurely lunch, we continued around the lake:




The amount of accumulated snow melt/water here was amazing, heavily flooding the trail:










An example of Katie’s back country/guiding experience came through here. A simple but very effective act of kindness.

A younger man caught up to us as we were wading this stream (he's visible in the photo above). We chatted briefly and it turned out that he was traveling light, had started at 5:30 a.m. and was 24 miles into a 30 plus mile day. It was clear that he was going to finish his 30 miles, but he also looked really tired.

Partway into our talk, Katie said to the man: “Hey, would you like a Jolly Rancher?” His face lit up. “Sure,” he said. He took the candy and popped it into his mouth. The smile, the apparently renewed energy: almost like the sun had come out from behind the clouds (there were no clouds though). One tiny little candy (offered, of course, by a very friendly woman) is a trick she’s developed to quickly give clients a bit of an energy kick. Not so much from the tiny bit of sugar; more from the whole idea and process. It worked here: this guy’s smile alone could have lit up a room.

He moved on and so did we.

Although the flowers on this trip were abundant, everywhere really, flower pictures don’t usually do justice to what the eye takes in while there. Perhaps this shot of a field of Indian paintbrush comes close:




Over a low pass and then on to Purple Lake (it’s blue, and, without looking, I believe I made this same quip about it in the 2013 trip report):










Purple Lake had been our original destination for the day. But we’d quit early yesterday and arrived today at Purple Lake by 2:00. After some rest we decided to keep going.

The trail here is way up above the Fish Creek-to-San Joaquin River drainage and the views are extensive. Here’s looking south back to Peak 12,221 and Silver Pass (no such views with the heavy, heavy buildup of clouds in 2013 - we were getting to see this area better on this trip than we had been able to then):




And northwest over the San Joaquin drainage:




Since the trail is traversing high on a ridge system here, possible campsites and water sources are scarce. The heavy winter played in our favor though: we were able to quit three miles before we expected at a fine flat area only 100 feet from a strong trickle of water that never would have been flowing in August of any close-to-normal year:

[Brad Young]

Day Four, August 7:

Sunny conditions and a high-up trail made for nice start conditions:







Early on we got a view back to Peak 12,221, Silver Pass, and the Silver Divide:




We reached trail mile 900 (look below our feet):




The Deer Creek area was as filled with mosquitos as we expected:




Upper Crater Meadow:




The red, only a few-hundred-year-old crater that looms above Crater Meadow, giving it its name:




The first view of Mammoth Mountain from behind caused a problem:




Katie got distracted by this view and did a face-plant/knee plant in the trail. Luckily it wasn’t horrible and she’s a trained and experienced WFR (“woofer,” or Wilderness First Responder):










All of the Minarets came into view and Mount Ritter and Banner Peak too:




The descent to Reds Meadow included a viewful lunch break:
















Looking over the San Joaquin River canyon:




We’d originally intended on this trip to meet Vicki early morning at Reds Meadow, drop packs and then day-hike to Agnew Meadow another seven or so miles along. But without hurrying, we were farther along than we’d thought we would be and we reached the Reds Meadow trail junction in the early afternoon. We decided to keep going and then camp three or so miles from Agnew Meadow. This would result in a very short last day, but since Katie had to ride home with us and then drive back to her home in Truckee that day, we liked the idea.

The Reds Meadow trail junction:




Into Devils Postpile National Monument and across the San Joaquin River:







Notice the bridge across this part of the river? Here’s why - this is a fairly big river with very high flows this year (and little did we know…):




As many of you know, the John Muir Trail shares its trail tread with the PCT for a lot of its distance. One of the divergent points is here, at Devils Postpile National Monument.

So I went to take a photo of the JMT/PCT Trail junction. A pretty cool and important place. I thought. This is the second photo I took of it:




And here’s the first shot I took. She squatted a half-second before I snapped the photo. What do you even title a photo like this?




So we continued on. And discussed where we’d stay for the night. We thought we’d go past where the trail crosses back over the San Joaquin River and then look for a place to camp.

And then we got back to the river. And oh… oh shit, it really was a hell of a winter:







Now what?

We re-grouped.

Experienced in the back country, we realized that we’d either have to backtrack miles or wade the big river. We chose to wade. But this was going to be serious, so no flip-flops. We’d wade in shoes and share Katie’s hiking poles which would be critical for balance. I went first, pack straps undone and step by step through the icy water.

I crossed safely, dropped my pack and then turned to help Hallie. As I turned… I saw Halifax 20 feet downstream, on my side of the river. Damn! No hesitation with that girl. Apparently she’d jumped right in and swam the river, accepting that she’d be swept downstream as she went (Katie took her pack off). What a tough, tough girl.

Katie went next with care but no problems:







It so happened that there’s a formal campground just across from the destroyed bridge. We had enough sunlight left to start drying our shoes if we stayed there. So we settled in for the night:

[Brad Young]

Katie's upcoming day of driving was hanging over her and so we started super early (when guiding she gets up as early as 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning to get things started for her clients - on this trip she indulged in a little sleeping in):




The destroyed bridge was still destroyed. We were glad we'd crossed yesterday:




It was an odd morning in a way; an Ojai high school cross country team was in Mammoth for training. When they realized that the bridge was out they simply ran up-trail and then back. So for an hour of hiking we were being passed by tens of barely-clad teenagers going up and down trail.

We soon exited what was now the Ansel Adams Wilderness, almost to Agnew Meadow Trailhead (and no, I'm not in pain - I just often don't do well in photos, especially, especially when juxtaposed with a young and beautiful woman who seems to smile as easily as she breathes):




Vicki and Digby were waiting at the mosquito-infested trailhead. We dropped packs into the car and quickly scurried over to the start of the next segment (always extra steps so there's overlap; not a single step skipped all the way from Mexico):










And off we went. To home. To unpack, catch up and then immediately begin to re-pack. Tricia's home from a semester abroad in Iceland. And she has time in a week for some northern Washington hiking. On the PCT....

[clink]

 Wow! Amazingly beautiful journey, pictures and entertaining narrative!

 

Life simply doesn’t get any better.

 Indeed

[Brad Young]

Vicki and the dogs and I just crossed into Washington. We came up east of the Sierra and the Cascades. Tricia is driving separately from Eugene.

Everything looks like a go, but I’m still nervous. So many things could stop us in our tracks. For example, the Dawsons just bailed from the PCT in the north central Oregon Cascades. Halfway through the mileage they intended, but fires to their west made for unreal amounts of smoke and they didn’t want to destroy their lungs.

Nothing has gone wrong for us though and odds are we’ll proceed just fine. Wish us luck?

[BAP]

Nice trip report!

I have the same backpack as Katie and I love it!  Very happy  it's also the professional guide's pick.

I did the JMT north bound in 2018.  Feels good to see your pictures as I recognized most of places.  It brought back many good memories on the hike.

Have fun hiking with Tricia in Washington!

[Brad Young]

Perfect trip with Tricia. Fewer than 110 miles to go to Canada. But that’s going to have to wait until next summer.

[JC w KC redux]

Just got around to reading this. I don't need no stinking Jolly Rancher to feel Katie's good vibes.

Did you tell Katie about getting distracted by the view and cracking your knee at the Alabama Hills?

That section of trail looks pretty damn incredible.

I fully expected to see you balancing your way across what was left of that bridge.

Now I won't have to read again for 10 years! Okay...I'll have to read when you and T finish the trail. We might even be down for driving the rig up that way and joining in the celebration.