I woke up just as dawn was breaking and packed up quickly and quietly. The raucous campground of the previous night had become quiet, and only a few people were stirring here and there as I walked the quarter mile back along the main campground road to the Lodgepole market/deli/visitors center.
I got a quick shower–3 minutes for $1–before anyone else was there, a stark difference from the line last night that stretched out the door alongside the building. All those pretty clean people with big fluffy towels. After the shower I called Dan from the pay phone, and then looked over my route information while waiting for the deli to open at 8. Breakfast, an egg and potato burrito and a cup of coffee, followed by two pancakes because I was still hungry, gave me time to make sure all my things were charged up. This leg especially I need my electronics to hold it together.
For each of the high routes I’m following, there are basically three different important sources of information that come into play: maps of the area, with specific landmarks along the route often indicated by a marker; a written description of the route; and a data book which typically gives distances between important markers and sometimes information about elevation changes. Of these three, I think the map is most crucial for staying alive and well, since with a map you can figure out your own way to safety. The written description is second most important, and the data book isn’t exactly critical though tends to see a lot of use. Because my box didn’t make it to Lodgepole on time (and I was unwilling to linger in that zoo of people until Tuesday), I’m making extensive use of my phone for the next four days until I get to Kearsarge Pass and hike out to Indepence to resupply. All three of those sources of information are on my phone in my Dropbox app. It’s tedious to use this way, and involves switching back and forth between documents a lot, but so far it’s working. I’m a little paranoid that my phone will crash, though, and what then? Well, I have those four USGS quads that cover the off route areas, so if my phone stops working I at least have maps. And with maps I can find my way, even if it’s not the official route.
I hit the trail around 9 or 9:30, a little later than I was hoping given that I had a four thousand foot climb to start the day. The air quality was only worse than the day before, thick smoking hanging heavy in the air. I climbed up a trail for a couple miles, then a use trail for a couple miles headed towards Mt Silliman. Even as I gained altitude and the world opened up around me, the smoke was so thick it obscured a lot of the views. The use trail ended at the base of a massive set of steep granite slabs, and I climbed up them, the most slabtastic walking I’ve done on the trip so far. The vertical gain was serious though, and I weaved back and forth to reduce strain on my ankles, stepping over and across sheets of water cascading down the rock. Eventually the steep slabs ended and I continued up through gullies and among rock fins.
Smoke obscuring the granite slabs I was about to ascend.
I’m about to go up this beautiful, smooth, rounded hunk of granite
Water-stained wall
As I rose the smoke seemed to clear, but in its place a thick set of clouds gathered, and then darkened, and blotted out the sun. I was headed for a pass, and as I approached its base, wondering whether I could beat the storm in a race, the clouds let loose an intense rain shower, followed quickly by immense thunder claps directly overhead. I must say it was not an ideal place to be in a lightning storm. I quickly got into a cone of safety, within a 45 degree angle of something much taller than me, which was the steep ridge containing the pass, but not too close in order to avoid splash back current in case the ridge was struck. I squatted down, feet together. And I waited there for almost an hour as the thunder shook the world and rattled my bones, as the rain pelted me, but there were no ground strikes. What does one do but exercise patience? If lightning were striking, I would have needed to keep my mouth open so my eardrums wouldn’t rupture with the shock wave, but it wasn’t so I took the time to eat a little bit, and marvel at the fact of our planet and its weather. I was relieved when the storm finally blew off to the northwest and the sky began to lighten again. I shouldered my pack and humped over the pass, an easy and quick class 2 gully.
The pass I was headed for is the v-shaped notch on the far right of the ridge.
Waiting out the thunder storm. The pass is the low point on the ridge over my left shoulder.
From the top I could see another bank of clouds blowing towards me, and hear thunder high up and far away. Indeed, part way down the other side, another furious episode of rain, and some thunder though not directly overhead, accompanied me as I dropped about 700 feet. As I contoured a ridge and began climbing up a long valley towards the King-Kaweah Divide, a ridge of mountains running east-west (which I crossed two days ago through the Kaweah Gap), yet another rain storm with thunder broke overhead, though again the thunder was distant enough that I didn’t feel the need to prepare for lightning. This cycle continued all day, and my rain pants went on and off and on and off.
Clouds seen to the south from the top of the pass.
I gained the Divide and had a lovely and long contouring traverse through a basin just below the ridge, electing to stay a bit lower in case one of the thunderheads mustered some lightning strikes, and feeling pressed to hurry along. The ridge along the divide, and frankly the basin too, were quite exposed. So while wind-driven rain interspersed with periods of calm kept the atmosphere lively, I kept a quick pace, enjoying the easy travel on granite slabs and grassy benches, but avoiding lingering anywhere for long. Eventually I crossed a small saddle and dropped into a bowl which felt a little more protected, right before Pterodactyl Pass, and set up camp in the shelter of some rocks. I stopped a little earlier than I had planned, around 5:30, but it seems like the next couple miles might be slow and have limited camping options.
The two images above are from the hike along Tablelands, the ridge of the King-Kaweah Divide.
Pterodactyl Pass, which I will cross tomorrow morning, is the middle u in the ridge.
Camp sunset.
So far using my phone to navigate is working ok. It’s not ideal, but only two more days of it and then I take trails and resupply. My box will have maps. I will be relieved. Hang in there phone!
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