Post
by Jimr » Sun Jul 26, 2015 11:00 am
You'll have to wait for pictures because they are still in camera. John and I took off Monday morning from the Cottonwood/Trail pass trailhead. It was pouring rain. We missed the turn to Trail pass, probably because we were walking head down so much to keep the rain out of our face. Once we hit Cottonwood pass, the rain let up. We headed down the PCT to Trail pass and pulled off the rain gear and headed down through Mulkey meadow, then camped between Mulkey and Tunnel meadow. We found a trail camp with a stove and some trash left behind under a rock next to the stove. When we opened the stove, there was a book inside. I put the trash inside the stove next to the book. Normally, I'd carry it out, but it seemed to be a well used camp spot and my bear can was stuffed to the brim.
The next day was sunny as we trekked down to the Kern river. On the way down the canyon, my friend John hyper-extended his knee and it was swollen in the hollow. We crossed the bridge as it began to rain, so we picked a spot to camp and jumped inside our tents with our packs. I started to gear up to cook in the vestibule when the rain started to let up. From then on, it was only a slight drizzle, so we pulled the kitchens out and had a nice evening at a well constructed campsite. We were soon visited by the ranger, a young guy who was spending his first season as an NPS back country ranger. He had done the previous year in Colorado. After checking our permits and noting that we had bear cans out in plain sight, he warned us that the bears in the area were a bit aggressive at this time. Mating season was over and all they had in mind was food, so he reminded us to pack everything, even lip balm, in the cans.
The next morning, we set out for Kern Hot Springs. It was a beautiful trail complete with huge fern fields and excellent views of the mighty Kern. We stopped at the hot spring and took a long and leisurely bath, then headed up to Rock Creek to camp for the night. It threatened to rain, but never really made it. John's knee was swollen, but he was managing trail quite well. He's an absolute pack mule, much like me. He decided that as much as he loves cross country hiking in the high country, he would stay at Junction meadow and not risk injuring himself climbing up to the meet up. I thought that was a prudent decision considering he had an achilles tendon injury on the left foot and a swollen right knee. I would hike to the meet up, then connect back with him Friday morning.
Thursday morning, we started up to Junction meadow. About 3 miles up, John stopped and told me I had mail. Hobbes had gotten to about 3 mile above our camp and turned around to stay at Junction meadow Wednesday afternoon. It was two notes; one going down and another a half hour later going back up. We hit Junction meadow and found an excellent spot right near the river to camp. I stopped for a hot lunch, then dumped everything except for what I needed for an overnight at the meet up. I left the bear can and brought only enough for dinner and breakfast with the idea of camping at Island lake, then hauling down first thing in the morning to connect back up with John. I got half way up and a thought crossed my mind that I would rather be hanging out with my friend John at the excellent camp spot than spend the next couple of hours climbing just to leave early the next morning. I'm not the life of the party, so the party will go on with or without me. I no sooner registered that thought when I found myself turned around heading back down. I stopped for a moment to be sure then continued down with no doubt in my mind.
Very quickly, I was back at Junction Meadow to find John reading by the creek. Yep, good decision. I told him why I turned around and made myself some coffee. Within the hour, Wandering Daisy strolled into camp and asked if we were going to a meet up. I introduced myself and gave her a hug. We all chatted for a while, then she asked if she could join us. Of course, we said yes. WD is a wonderful person. We all chatted the afternoon and evening away. She and John live very close to each other, so they had many stories of their local area hiking adventures. We had a mini-meet up. I gave her a few of my hand tied flies to replenish her supply and showed off a few of my more stylish flies. She was wondering if anyone was still at the meet up. I told her she might see Hobbes on the way up and could ask him.
The next morning, we all broke camp and said our goodbye's I gave WD one last hug and we went our separate ways. John and I headed up the Kern to the first lake, then East until we reached Tyndall creek. We crossed the creek and set-up camp around 5pm. Looking at Hobbes tracks, he pulled into camp West of the creek. He must have seen our tents but not realized it was us. We sat and watched S/B JMT hikers flying down trail, then somebody from the park service came walking down from the JMT, through the trees heading in our direction. John's knee was hurting pretty bad and he said screw it. If he hassles us about our camp site, he can ticket him. He'd rather pay the fine than move camp. We were at least 100 ft from the creek, so we thought we were o.k. He never came over. He stopped on the JMT side of the creek, then took off his pack and nealt down like he was praying. He monkey'd around for a bit on his knees, then donned his pack and headed back up to the trees where he met up with somebody else.
Saturday morning we broke camp. We were 2 ¼ miles from the pass. Hobbes must have passed us above our camp based on his tracks. I thought I recognized his foot prints, but only the back of his shoes. I never saw the obvious barefoot toe design of his Altras so I wasn't sure. We passed about 4 or 5 tents at the pass; hikers preparing to summit Mt. Tyndall. My Tevas handled Shepherd pass very well. I thought they may have been the reason my knee gave me so much trouble last April, but I guess not. Sometimes sh!t just happens for no identifiable reason. John stopped for water within a mile of the TH, so I trucked on. I pulled my lawn chair out, changed my clothes and kicked back sucking down my reserve water until John strolled to the truck, then we beet feet back to Cottonwood to pick up his Tahoe.
It was an excellent trip. Since I'm only 4 hours from Lone Pine, I jammed home and was in the shower by 9:30pm. A couple of realizations I had was that fishing isn't nearly as important to me as it used to be. I never once pulled my fly rod out. There were plenty of prime fishing spots and I'd read the river all of the time, but had no desire to stop and fish, especially mid-day. Evenings, I was content to eat and chat rather than fish. I think I'll need to set-up some trips with layover days so I can fish the river proper. I also noticed that while the river was cool I really kicked into gear climbing out of the trench. The high country is where I like to be, but it is cool to occasionally hike the forests. It's just a different beast. A lot of mindless trail walking as opposed to cross country travel above treeline.
“Posterity! You will never know, how much it cost the present generation, to preserve your Freedom! I hope you will make a good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in Heaven, that I ever took half the pains to preserve it.”
-John Adams
