Days 73 Pinoch Pass

Start: 800.9 End: 812.5

I woke up and checked my watch, it was 5am, we had overslept. I shouted to Nick to wake him up and we did our best to pack up quickly and hit the trail. We crossed a really shakey suspension bridge. Then the first 5 or so miles followed a water slide and was snow free. We had to ford a couple streams, I was able to just walk through them since my trail runners dry out so quickly but Nick had to take his shoes off and put on his crocs.

We were moving slower than I would have liked up the dry section of the trail but we were making progress. Eventually we hit the snow field and there was no tracks to follow. I developed a hypothesis that the snow was more firm away from dry land and that led to less frequent post holes we walked through a frozen tundra, I checked my phone often to make sure we were on track.

We had hiked 2000 feet up in elevation over those first 5 miles and still had 3 miles and 2000 more feet to go. It was getting steeper and steeper as we approached the base of the pass but evened out just before the final steep ascent. We began our ascent up the pass, following faint switchbacks that have been frozen over. Near the top the switchbacks turned into a traverse up and over the pass. Luckily the footprints were re solidified and they were still mostly frozen so we could follow in those. We had our ice axes out and were taking each step very slowly.

At the top, the last part of the traverse we moved even more cautiously as it was a nearly verticle drop for 30 feet until a field of rocks, leaving little to no time to self arrest if you slipped and needed to.

We finally made it to the top after 5/6 hours of hiking. We renamed the mountain pass marmot pass for the three fearless marmots that were up there roaming around. We took a nice long snack and chill break appreciating the surrounding views.

We then began our descent down Pinoch. We were able to do some glissading down which greatly speeded up our descent and amplified our fun after a grueling approach. We made it down a mile or two and had lunch next to a couple half frozen lakes. We aired out of feet and each had a little to eat, our appetites being diminished my the intensity of climbing.

After lunch we got moving and were greeted by slushy and soft snow. The post holing began, getting worse by every passing moment. We approached a couple stream crossings with sketchy looking snow bridges. We were practically falling through on every other step so it wouldn’t be super safe to try them. A snow bridge is just snow that is still frozen over a running stream. In the morning when the snow is frozen it can be super solid to walk over, but in the afternoon you risk falling through the bridge into the river below. We took long detours around the rivers to walk on snow that seemed more solid. That led us to taking long detours back to trail through untouched and very soft snow fields.

There were times where every step was a post hole to the hip for 10/20+ steps before getting a solid step on the snow. It was utterly exhausting, it felt like we could easily be trapped up here in the deep snow fields. We only had 3 miles after lunch but it took 3+ hours.

We had a fast moving stream crossing before the final ascent to where we hoped we’d sleep that night. We scouted a spot where maybe we could rock hop across but it all looked really sketchy. Nick, tired of taking his boots off and exhausted from the wear and tear of hiking through the snow, wanted to do a big jump over the river onto a slippery, slanted, wet rock right above a fast moving part of the current. He was sure he could make it he told me. I pleaded with him to just take his shoes off and walk across. He might have been able to make it but the risk fairly outweighed the reward. Likely he would slip and either everything he owned would get wet or worse he would hit his head on the rock or get swept away in the current.

The last few hours had really shaken me. I knew the Sierras were remote but I hadn’t really begun to feel it until these last couple passes and the fields of melting snow between. There were no outs, there were no bailing points, we couldn’t decided to go home, the only way out was through. This mountain range is no joke and not for the faint of heart. You need to have the strength to keep pushing no matter what, because your life does depend on it. Nick had post holed a couple times and hit his knees or shin on a rock or branch. I too had scraped up my legs pretty bad because there is no way of knowing what lies beneath the snow you are stepping on. He, or I , at any moment could take one bad step and put both of us in a really bad and dangerous position. If either of us hurt our legs seriously, the only way out would be by helicopter. After Nick had really banged his knee on a rock beneath the snow I started to really get worried for him. These passes were more dangerous than I anticipated and the long stretches of postholing was also more precarious than I had thought. I warned him that the sierras would be very difficult and he was up for the challenge but I still felt responsible for his safety and well being.

We crossed the river, getting our feet wet and were now at the beginning of our last descent, we were almost there. There was a sign of a missing person at the top, a young military veteran, he had gone hiking in the Sierras late February and never returned. As if I needed another reminder of how serious this was and what was at stake. Just as we passed that sign and I started to really panic and get anxious at navigating this last decent, the storm clouds rolled in and a light flurry of snow began. Now I was really feeling stressed out, the stakes seemed to be going higher and higher.

This last decent was 800 feet in a mile, through a steep, snowy forest. The snow tends to be the weakest near rocks or trees so this was a minefield. There were various scattered footprints but I was mostly blazing my own path. I knew I needed to get my shit together for the sake of both of us, Nick had been having a really hard time and we were both starting to freak out a little bit. I briefly shed a few anxious tears before pumping myself up with self affirmations, telling myself that this was no big deal and I was confidant and capable. This was no time for losing control. The trail went north before switchbacking down to the west but the trail was so snow covered it didn’t matter much. I just shot for a straight diagonal line from the starting point, across the snowy forest, to reconnect with the trail at the bottom. I was practically postholing the entire length of each leg with every step. Hoping and praying that neither of us would step on or hit anything beneath the snow.

I kept on going diagonally downward, feeling a bit of comradery whenever I would see another set of footprints wandering through the snowy forest. I wasn’t the first to be in this position and I wouldn’t be the last. Finally I spotted a snow free section of the trail at the bottom, it was only dry for about 10 feet but it was a relief to know we had made it back to the trail and to the bottom. The flurries were also starting to clear up and left behind just grey skies.

One last stream crossing remained. My socks and shoes were already soaked so I just walked through the stream while Nick took his shoes off and forded it with his crocs on. We walked another .2 miles and found a snow free spot to set up for the night. It was just after 5pm, it had taken us 12 hours to hike 12 miles.

We were both utterly defeated from the day and shared a somber embrace and relief at having both made it down unscathed. Nick didn’t have the energy to set up his hammock and it appeared the rain/snow had passed. My GPS was having a hard time acquiring a signal to check the weather so I wasn’t able to see what was in store. I had set up my tent and we would both just sleep in my little 1p tent that night. We started cooking dinner and felt a couple sprinkles. I looked up at the sky and began to prepare for the worst. I hurried to organize my things and get everything in order. I had finished cooking my meal, battened the hatches and gotten into my tent while Nick remained outside hoping the sprinkles would pass. They did not, but turned into a steadier rain and he hurried to get his things in order and get inside my tent.

My tent barely does the trick with one person when it rains. It’s an ultralight tent which means that there are no poles to set it up, but I use one of my trekking poles and stake out the edges. It only has one wall so when it rains, anything on the inside of the tent that touches the wall, also gets wet. So here we both were, crammed, unable to both sit up in my tent as the rain steadily came down. I had also happened to set up in a drainage, so the water would surely build up around my tent soon.

We debated what to do and hoped the rain would stop. If it kept going through the night it would surely start to pool within the tent. I also had been primarily relying on my phone for navigation but it wasn’t waterproof. So if the rain kept up until we started hiking again I would be screwed with navigating. It had been raining for less than an hour and my sleeping bag bottom was already a bit damp and a small area of water was building up in the corner. This made Nick decide that he would go out in the rain and set up his hammock and rain fly. As he was preparing to go out into the rain, it suddenly let up. I was finally able to check the weather and it appeared it was just a one hour rain storm. We were so grateful and it was just enough of an awakening to the fact that things can always be worse and the need of being prepared.

Nick still went out and set up his things as my tent would still be wet for the night. A small puddle had started to form on my tent and I pushed it off. It the water came rushing back towards the tent. I figured I was fine if it wasn’t going to keep raining but that would have been a really bad situation had it kept raining. The perfect cherry on top of a long day. We soon went to bed, agreeing to get up around 3:30/4 to avoid the same mistakes we had made that day of being in snow fields in the afternoon.