Mile 875 - 924: Reunions

The week started off with reunions and continued with side quests that was well needed for a body that had burned too much for too long. I struggle to keep up with blogging, but find moments to keep up.

Sallie Keyes Lake before Selden Pass

All Smiles

There’s no rush to get over Selden Pass this morning, so I sleep in until 6, and leave camp at 7. It’ll be the shortest pass yet, the last of the big passes behind us. I’m a bit saddened by this. As the Sierras has challenged my body day after day, they have rewarded me many times over with a landscape I struggle to put into words and even more to capture. 

The remaining Sierras are not as difficult, on paper at least. But I am still yet to see what awaits, so the sadness dissolves. It becomes one of the more uneventful days. I slept well but I begin to hit a wall in the afternoon. I drink some water, eat some food, but my body still struggles to climb this last ascent. This one is important too, it’s to the trail leading to Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR), where our dear Joe is likely headed. He doesn’t know we’re trying to catch him. The cafe also closes at 7pm, and I am over eating oatmeal and instant mashed potatoes. I get my second wind the moment we start on the side trail, another 6-7 miles. We eventually hit Edison Lake, but the east side, the resort being on the west side. There used to be a small ferry that would take people across the lake, especially hikers, however the operator passed away last year, so the ferry shut down. The last 2 miles are on a dirt road and I speed walk with burning intent, I want food. As I approach, I see the yellow hoodie that could only belong to one person, Joe. His back is turned, so I sneak in the last 75 meters, and give him a spook from behind. He gives me a look of shock and awe. He had no idea we were chasing him down, or how much we hiked to do it. There are laughs and cheers all around, everyone is happy. Dinner is expensive at $25, meatloaf, potatoes, and a salad. They thought they’d have more people, so they double up my meatloaf. It reminds me of my mother’s meatloaf, and I eat about 2 pounds of it. As I’m busing my dishes, someone sitting catches my eye. We lock eyes. By god, it’s Dina, the Swiss girl I hiked with in the beginning and who started with me. “Dina?!” I yell. “Tanner?!”, she yells back. She jumps up and we give each other a long hug.  It feels deeply comforting, the most intimacy up to this point on trail are fist bumps. We hardly know each other but it feels like old friends meeting after years apart. We spend the rest of the night in revelry, chatting about life, books, and experiences with everyone in front of the fire. A few of us stay up until 11, then I called it time for bed, which no one disagreed. From reunions, to heavy meals, and a bit of booze, I had the biggest shit eating grin all evening.

VVR

A lazy day. A few of us decided to take a zero at VVR, trying to figure out how not to burn through our bank accounts with the highly priced products of the general store.  I catch up with Dina and talk story with Joe. There’s some ping pong and cornhole. Joe, being from Ohio, informs us cornhole actually started in Ohio, which checks out. The meals at VVR are expensive, but aren’t lacking in size, you get what you pay for. I know I’m still in an energy deficit, so I stuff my face as much as possible. As day transitions to the evening, a fire is started and a few folks come over to enjoy it. We begin chatting with a couple of young cowboy looking folks, two mule drivers who came from the south to work at the pack station for the season. They drink Budweiser and smoke Marb Reds, the real deal. They’ve been at it for years. We chat by the fireside for hours. Their stories make me feel like I’m in a different century, and thankfully I’ve got enough country in me that we can connect on quite a bit. The lifestyle is tough but romantic, makes me think if I could do it. They tell us different routes outside of the PCT we can take. Dina and I want to try to make it to the Iva Bell hot springs, a bit off trail, and they know the route well. We drink and smoke until it’s my bedtime, I feel I could keep chatting for hours.

Late start out of VVR, I decide to leave with Dina. We want to try to get to Iva Bell hot springs, it’s quite the side quest. We meet a ranger on the way out. He asks for our permits, it looks like he’s teaching interns how to use a two man crosscut saw while an older man looks on, I guess his boss or mentor. “I have to technically tell you, you can only be off the PCT for 24 hours”, he says lazily. “Got it.” I say wryly. It’s a normal day of hiking and we start a fire when we get into camp. The mosquitos are starting but not too bad yet. The next morning we’re off, eager to find the hot springs. Though we get back on the PCT briefly, we go off on to Fish Creek to continue our pursuit. The day is full of ups and downs, with a long pause beside a creek where I get a good sunburn on my chest and belly. Some weekend hikers approach the creek crossing cautiously. I initially don’t ask if they know what they’re doing, but after seeing them try to strap their shoes to their pack I ask, “y’all had to do any fast water crossings today?”, leaving things a bit more open ended, even though I know the answer. “No, we don’t really know what to do”, one says. I tell them what to do and they get across safely. 

As we approach the springs on the map, we meet another hiker who had done the PCT the year before. Him and I joke around, and let him know where we’re going. Hours later I see his tent set up, but not near where we think the hot springs are. Dina and I, just looking at some figures on a USGS map, climb through what looked like a forest that an avalanche ripped through. For 2 hours we climbed tree and bramble, being careful not to impale ourselves on stray limbs, in search of the hot springs. We’re both stubborn, but both accept the fact that where that guy was camped before may have been where the springs were. I stumble back, find the camp, and sure enough it’s there. It’s a beautiful spot and we soak our tired legs.

Iva Bell to Reds

I’ve been cowboy camping the past few days, which I’m starting to really enjoy, it makes getting out of camp very easy. We stoke the fire from the night before back to life and go get another soak in. We wait until the sun comes over the ridge, which means we have a late start. It feels like the hottest day of the Sierras so far. The heat of the sun is one thing, but the humidity creates a sense you are drinking the air. We fight an overgrown trail, getting scratches all over our legs, for miles until Reds Meadow Resort.

It’s closed, but apparently close to opening and the buses to Mammoth will begin coming up this weekend. We search around the seemingly abandoned complex until we see a woman exit one of the buildings. We briefly chat until Dina asks about a possible ride into Mammoth. We’re in luck, she’s driving to Bishop, which means she has to go through Mammoth. We hop in and she takes us straight to Grocery Outlet. I decide to buy groceries while hungry, mistake. I anxiously buy way too much food, but the body demands it and I obey. We decide to stay at a local campground conveniently located right in town. A reserved space had just opened up, another lucky stroke. Cam, Comet, and Louie are in the Motel 6, they wanted me to stay, but the room is small and cramped. We joked about sticking me under the sink. I buy some beers for the boys and I get a shower. We watch a movie, then Dina and I leave, knowing these guys will be blasting ahead of us.

Recovery Days

We head out to Shatts Bakery for breakfast before catching the bus to the trailhead, definitely an easy way to get to trail.

I called my grandpa the day before and try to call my parents today, but they’re at the gym. I’ve been in service for barely 12 hours but I realize I have to put off calling them until the next resupply, this was a quick stop. We get off at Horseshoe Lake, a trail that will require a few more miles of hiking, but we don’t plan on much today. We arrive back to Reds Meadow and hike a little more to a lake. We have it to our selves for the entire afternoon. On our way back to the camp site, we see Pit Stop and Easy Squeezy, some folks we’ve been seeing quite often lately. The night consists of another fire.

Devil’s Postpile

Reds Meadow has a hot spring nearby, not as fancy as Iva Bell, it uses a concrete cistern to catch the hot water. We arrive to another see another hiker in there, but at this point, we hikers have seen each other naked so often there’s no hesitation to join. After a long soak we have a real day of hiking ahead of us. Within the first few miles is Devils Postpile, some crazy geological formations. Later in the day we hear the loud cracks of thunder as dark clouds roll in, the shade is welcomed, the hail, is not. We’re not exposed so I’m not too worried about lightning, but we decide to pitch a tent to hide for about an hour and a half, and really, an excuse for a solid nap. 

Thousand Island Lake, Banner Peak to the left

I feel tired daily, my legs still thin, the body is still feeling the effects of not enough calories from the previous weeks. I’m a little nervous, but my body still can move well. We continue to Thousand Island Lake and set up cowboy camping right on the lake, with the imposing Banner Peak looming in the background. 

Minarets of the Ritter Range