9/22/2023
Section: Milepost 827.5 to 802.7
Total Trail Miles: 2134.5
Distance: 25.62 Miles
Moving Time: 12:36
Elevation Gain: 5866 ft
Last night, for maybe the first real time on the trail, I got cold. The Thermarest is losing air again. There are now 4 patches on it and there will be more in Independence. I think it is finally safe to consider it at end of life. Hoping Thermarest might be willing to replace this one as well.
We got up early today, at 5:20. It’s getting really hard to rise and shine anymore. I think we are wearing beyond our ability to recover on a nightly basis. I don’t know if this is correct but Strava is indicating we are burning 5000-7000 calories a day which is hard to compensate for. One thing is for sure, we are very interested in getting to Independence. The draw of civilization is getting to gravity level and for this reason, we are going to try and get as far today as possible to capitalize on some time the day after.
Today’s stage is a two-fer. Two iconic passes of the core Sierra - Mather and Pinchot. The stage starts half a mile up from where Palisades Creek dumps into the Middle Fork of the Kings River. It continues up the Palisades Creek valley for 3.5 miles before diverging onto one of the most beloved ascents on the entire 2600 mile stretch of trail - the Golden Staircase. Rising 1500 feet in 3 miles, the Golden Staircase is a master class in trail design, delivering hikers to the banks of Lower Palisades lake. From the lake, the path makes a long, slow arc turning east, then southeast, and finally south before rising steeply through the Palisades Basin. At the southeast edge of Upper Palisades lake the grade increases steeply, eventually arriving at the col of Mather Pass. Once on top, the trail descends steeply, winding around a small basin just below the pass and turning south, into a huge basin of granite called Upper Basin. The path ducks back into the treeline at 13 miles in and follows the South Fork Kings River to 10,000 feet before it turns east and up, jumping to the top of a headwall where a small, unnamed lake is nestled at the outlet. The trail continues to climb, eventually breaking teeline at Lake Marjorie and then makes another stout climb up to Pinchot Pass along another wide approach. The trail makes a quick drop off of Pinchot, winding through a few small lakes heading east and then south and eventually breaks back into the treeline above Twin Lakes. From these lakes, the trail follows Wood Creek down a drainage to its termination on a high promontory above the creek.
We hit the trail at 6:48. It was still dark in the depths of the Palisades creek drainage and we walked fast to get warmed up. The trail was frequently broken up by gnarled avalanche damage, slowing our approach. It’s similar to what we saw on the Forrester Pass day several months ago. It seems that the National Park Service hasn’t gotten a chance to get in here and clean-up yet. I’m guessing, with the level of damage throughout the parks, this year’s winter season clean-up is going to be a long time coming.
The Palisades creek valley seemed to go on forever as we steadily rose into oncoming sunshine. Eventually, the walls closed in around us and we were funnelled toward the Golden Staircase. Another iconic climb, similar to the Evolution Valley, this series of tight switchbacks rose before us. I quickly lost track of where it spun into what appeared to be an intractable headwall at the end of the valley. Never-the-less, we climbed and quickly left the valley floor behind us. Pikas were waiting for us as we hauled ourselves into ever thinner air. Their squeaks rang out against the granite parapets all around us which Amanda and I quickly started mimicking. “SQUEAK” I yelled into the air. “SQUeeaaAAAKKK!!!” Amanda answered ahead of me. We climbed and climbed, running out of ways to describe the trail architecture all around us.
An hour more brought us to the banks of Lower Palisades lake in the midst of many PCT and JMTrs. We talked with a younger couple with an english accent. The guy had just pulled out an ultralight fly rod and was embarking down the trail towards the lake. Evidently they were well stocked with trout. Neither of them were especially talkative either so we carried on up towards Mather. The approach to Mather was turning out to be much quieter than Muir - thank the Light. I’m still working on getting through the Wheel of Time so, if you know, you know…. Mather kinda gave off Forrester vibes - miles and thousands of feet of ascent all chiseled into granite boulder fields by a very ambitious forest service a century ago. Not sure who looked up here and said - “yea, we can put a pass there,” but it made for an amazing trail.
We eventually topped out above 12,000 feet on Mather. Amanda and my thing now is to scream “I’M CRESTING” as we top out. It’s childish but that's where we’re at. We relaxed on top for about 30 minutes, taking in the vantage North and South and snacking on our freshly replenished stores. The Upper Basin before us was massive, high and dotted with trees. Another group came up and joined us on top for a while before Amanda and I committed to the descent into Upper Basin.
There was a little snow on the descent, just as there had been on the ascent, but nothing like what it must have been like for the folks that came up through here in the winter. I couldn't even imagine what it would have been like as I looked back up toward the crest. The passes are pretty sheer, though not super committed, but I gotta believe there would have been a “pucker” factor in some places. As we descended further, I saw some sort of Grossbeak hanging upside down on a boulder collecting seeds from a dilapidated vine plant crawling up towards the light. We saw a marmot making a bouquet for the winter, which only recently seemed to have left this region and later on we saw another, SUPER CHUBBY MARMOT “pancaked” on the top of a boulder just off the side of the trail. He just lazily looked at us as splayed across the rock we passed by pointing and laughing.
We crossed the incredible Upper Basin, stark and beautiful, before dropping back below the treeline. The trail descended down the South Fork Kings River, which was much more tame than it was 2-3 months earlier. Eventually, we reached the crossing and, again, an older guy attempted to tell Amanda how to cross which immediately made her bristle. We crossed over a mash of avy debris to the east side of the river and took a break before our second major ascent of the day - Pinchot Pass.
We only rested for a few minutes. At this point, walking is our modus operandi and I hate the feeling of lactic acid setting up in the muscles. Shortly down trail, the grade picked up steeply and we committed to the climb. As we climbed, we argued over the virtues of various freeze dried meals. At this point the clear winner for Amanda is Peak Refuels. They require a fraction of the water of other freeze dried meals and are incredibly rich. For me, it’s Good-to-go. They pack major calories but use quite a bit of water. They are a bit hit and miss. When they’re good, they’re really good, when they’re not… yea, they’re pretty bad. Overall though, Peak and Good-to-go are miles ahead of AlpineAir which was our least favorite. The classic Mountain House sits right in the middle. Our favorite individual meal is probably by Mountain House - Buffalo Mac and Cheese. It’s not super calorie heavy but if you add a quarter brick of cheddar cheese, you can make up the difference pretty quickly.
Anyway, an hour of heavy climbing brought us to a small lake at the outlet of a large, hanging valley which we progressed up quickly. The approach to Pinchot is even quieter than Mather. There’s a JMTer here and there, but some of them are already starting to set-up for the evening. There’s still hours of light ahead!! Again, that’s the appeal of hiking a shorter trail with excess time - you get to pick and choose your nightly stays. Find a nice spot and it’s a little early to turn in? You can just make it up the next day!
From the outlet of the hanging valley it was only about 3 miles to the top of Pinchot. Pinchot Peak sat to climbers left of the pass and beckoned us forward as we forged up the valley. As we climbed, we both agreed that the thing we’ve probably lost reverence for in this past section is clean laundry. I mean, it’s kinda nice at the start of a section but it’s gone an hour or so into a hike, especially in the summer, so what’s the point of getting all excited about it?
A stark approach of switchbacks delivered us to the top of Pinchot pass at almost exactly 7 pm, just before sunset. Since we were so close to it, we decided to stick around on top to watch the sun set. Walking in the dark is just a matter of life for us at this point. We had the whole thing to ourselves as the sun sunk behind Mount Ickes.
Amanda took off down the pass about 10 minutes before me. I stuck around on top to watch the golden hour take form. After I had my fill I followed Amanda and caught up to her about 15 minutes on and we broke out headlamps so we could turn them on when they became necessary. My solar panel now appears to be working (in the sun of course) so electronics are back in favor.
We descended for a long time. I saw a lil’ ptarmigan amongst the rocks and tried to get a picture but he was quick! Eventually, we ducked back down below tree line. We walked by a group of JMTrs in the dark and they said we should stop cause it was a nice spot. We thanked them but said we had to keep going. They made a friendly comment about “Eco-mode-ing it.” We gotta make tomorrow, at most, a 20 mile day. I picked a spot on FarOut and we zoomed on, crossing a wide, very shallow creek above Twin Lakes. A long cable bridge ran above us but it was out of commission.
When we arrived at the camp I had picked out, we found that there was no water and we were forced to carry on. This left us a little grumpy with each other. It’s been 13 hours and we’re tired and just want to stop. In any case, we carried on and the trail slowly closed in on Wood Creek. We arrived around 10 pm on a long bench over Wood Creek and stumbled to a nice, open spot to make camp. We saw one other tent in the distance and tried not to shine our lights on them as much as possible. Amanda set up the tent while I made the treacherous descent down to the creek bank to get water. As I came back, another headlamp went by us up on the trail - this section is popular for “Ultra-marathoning” between Bishop and Kearsarge. Guessing this was what was going on.
After we ate and were feeling better, we sat and looked at the stars for a while before turning in to sleep. This was an almost 16 hour day, end-to-end, and we had almost no energy left but it was a fantastic sprint across two iconic highpoints in the Sierra section and our last full day in the Sierra. Tomorrow is the final push out of the Sierra which is a little sad but also so exciting.
