Start: 813.5 End: 824.4 Total: 11.9
My alarm went off at 3:30 but I snoozed until just after 4. We were hiking by 4:40. The PCT is supposed to cross Kings Fork River, a raging river, twice. However, there is a well known alternate that has you follow the east side of the river upstream and then you don’t have to ford it at all.
We camped right at the base of that river so immediately got off trail and just followed that river. It was a nice change of pace because I no longer had to stare at my phone to navigate but was able to just follow alongside the river. It was so cool to be walking in the dark and have the world around you slowly light up. Most of the snow had hardened so it was easy to walk on top of it. There were a few unexpected soft spots that I would step onto confidently just to posthole.
There were some smaller rivers going into the Kings but most were easy to hop over or had a snow bridge over them. There was two smaller legs of a stream that we had to cross to get back to the Kings. I was convinced I found the best option to get over the first one and confidently sprang from one rock to the other across the stream. As soon as I landed though my foot slipped from under me and I crashed hard right onto my hip into the stream. I got up quickly and was okay, only my gloved hand and shoe had gotten wet and my hip took the entire blow. I knew there’d be a good bruise there. Nick asked if I was okay before bursting with laughter. I had to admit that must’ve been quite funny, I was so sure of myself I did not see that one coming. He crossed much more graciously and we continued on our way.
After a couple miles we rejoined the PCT and began the ascent up Mathers Pass. The app most people use for navigating says it’s one of the scariest passes due to the steep south wall. My friend, however, told me it wasn’t that scary. Honestly, it didn’t look that scary. After the passes and hiking we had done the last couple days, it looked rather chill. I figured there would be good prints up to the top and we’d be over in no time.
We started the traverse up, going slightly up but mostly just further to the side. There were descent foot prints to follow that had been iced over so we’re super solid. We got to a rocky patch and after that the footprints disappeared. There was different faint prints going further to the side, some starting to switch back, and one set going directly up. Nick was leading at this point and suggested we go straight up. They looked the most distinct. I wanted to follow the faint prints that made their own switchback up but he argued those footholds would be worse and more likely to switch. If we went straight up we would be in a better position to self arrest if we slipped. I conceded and said I might want to bail after a bit and try the switchbacks if straight up seemed to scary.
We started going straight up on a slope that must’ve been at least 70 degrees. Nick soon realized that the prints were not as distinct as he thought but it was too late. We weren’t going back down that way. The switchbacks I saw before had also disappeared and it might’ve been harder trying to make our own switchbacks, so we continued upward. I followed in the steps Nick had made. Sometimes he had frozen-over pre-made steps to follow but for the majority he was kicking his boots into the mountainside to make a good step for him to go upward. Every step, kick, kick, kick, step, plant the ice axe firmly into the snow in front, kick, kick, step,with the other foot, repeat. A few times he tried to take a break, but where was good break for him was barely hanging on for me. I urged him to continue going forward. I could not stop comfortably at that angle and would not dare to look below me, it seemed like it stretched on forever and higher than I could ever climb above me. I just needed to continue.
We eventually got to a stretch that was dry rocks, it looked like we were almost there. Upon arrival I collapsed in exhaustion but quickly kept moving to get to the top. Until I realized that the top was still 30 yards away. One more snowfield was between where we stopped and getting to the top. The snow was starting to melt and we had already postholed a couple times, the snow surrounding our entire leg. It was a bit precarious trying to free our leg while on such an intense slope. Nick was starting to get really frustrated at how dangerous this pass was.
Nick decided he would go up the snow to another patch of rocks and then traverse on the rocks higher than the pass and then come back down. I saw a faint set of prints going directly over the pass at an angle from where I was on the rocks. He was post holing every step on the way to get to the next patch of rocks and I was worried he’d knock a big rock loose. I thought I saw an easier way and decided I would go directly to the pass. There was a large cornice, wind blown snow, covering the stretch around the pass. It looked scarier and more fragile on the sides but the spot I would go over looked solid and much smaller.
I began to make my way over, these last 20/30 yards got steeper and steeper. I heard Nick grumbling in frustration above and hoped he would have a safe passage over and be there when I got there. I could no longer see him and was just focusing on my movements. Every third step I would post hole. I stepped slowly and confidently and stabbed my ice axe into the slope at every movement. Right before the top my right leg was swallowed whole by the mountain. I was now at an 80 degree angle and had to get my entire leg unstuck from below. There was mo one else in sight and below me was nearly 200/300 verticle feet of snow. I took a deep breath and spoke calmly to myself out loud, “slow Lynne, deep breath, re assess, you got this” as I turned my body and wiggled out my trapped leg.
Now I was at the last 5/10 feet, but it was a straight wall, a 90 degree angle up and over. The faint steps weren’t enough to trust. I kicked each foot into the snow two or three times to get a solid footing and jammed my ice axe in front of me to pull myself up and then repeated those motions. It was a verticle snow ladder with zero room for error. After a handful of calculated movements I got to the top of it and was relieved to see Nick had made it. I walked away from the edge of that pass, unclipping my pack and falling to my knees with the urge to throw up. I dry heaved a few times before those heaves turned into sobbing.
My body was pumped full of so much adreline. It was so scary, I was terrified. I was so relieved that we both made it to the top and appalled at how dangerous that was. I didn’t realize what I was getting myself into going into the Sierras so early and having someone I care about come with me. I was just so grateful we both made it up that. Nick tried to comfort me and I got my emotions in check quickly. We both knew we didn’t have much time to spend up there. We were on a ticking clock before that hard snow turned soft and would amplify the difficulty of doing miles tenfold. We still had a long ways to go.
We made our way down, starting to posthole a bit before walking along a lake that was mostly snow free before entering another snowfield. We had been neglecting stopping and filtering water as we were in such a rush to get out of the snow field. We made a brief stop, getting a liter of water before continuing through the minefield of snow. Postholing more and more. eventually we made it to the trail and quickly started dropping in elevation.
We confirmed we had made it below the snow line and found a descent spot to rest and chug water. Neither of us were really hungry so we didn’t have much of a lunch. We then went two more miles to our shady campsite and I laid out my pad and collapsed onto it in exhaustion, it was 2pm.
We dried out our things, filtered water, ate a late lunch and relaxed. We were both so relieved to be out of the snow. It was on our intensely to have a super chill day the next day and it would be snow free.
Another thru hiker came by that afternoon, the first one we had seen in this last stretch of trail. He had a tiny pack and was smoking a cigarette. I was eager to bond on how traumatizing Mathers was so I asked him how it was. He nonchalantly shook it off as it was no big deal and thanked us for the footprints. I was appalled. How could this man be so casual about something that shook me to my core. he hiked on, stating he was going to do Muir Pass before calling it a day. That was another 15 miles of hiking and it was already posthole city as it was 3 in the afternoon. Some people are just built differently.
We played some cards, ate dinner and went up on some rocks above our camp and did some drawing of the scenery. It was so beautiful everywhere. it was definitely the hardest and scariest pass so far for me. Nick saw a marmot by our stuff so we hurried back down. I guess marmot are attracted to pee as one nibled my pee cloth. We cowboy camped that night, a bit unsure if the marmots would try to nibble our toes as we slept.
Discover more from Trekking Home
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
