Day 5 - 6/4/2106
Marjorie tarns - Pinchot pass - Rae lakes
16.8 miles
As on Muir, I jammed up Pinchot ahead of Andy & David. Unlike Lamarck (in snow), Mather & Glen, Muir & Pinchot are non-technical. For the other passes, we stayed closely together as if we were roped, but for Pinchot & Muir, it was everyone doing his own thing. For Lead Dog, that meant taking plenty of photos - my camera/phone had run out of juice, so all I had to do was hike.
The hike down from Pinchot was magical - the basin was so wide open, the snow was still firm and we could pretty much wander any which way we chose. I'd see Andy or David off to one side or the other navigating over an exposed rock island, and I'd either head over that way, or continue on my own path. We finally got down below snow line by Twin lakes, so that's when we began hiking together once again.
[Both Andy & I were so impressed, that we've been noodling through the easiest way to get back for further exploration. As it turns out, the unnamed Pinchot basin is very hard to get to. You can head up Sawmill, lose elevation to Woods creek, then head back up. Or, go up Taboose, over Pinchot and down. Mav mentioned another route up Goodale, but it looks pretty hard. There's also 'Armstrong col', but it looks like more of ski run.]
The hike down Woods creek, over the bridge and back up to Rae lakes definitely falls into my "greatly dislike" category. I simply do not like hiking within tree line. Add a long afternoon with hot sun exposure and a tedious climb, and I'm entertaining dark thoughts about quitting hiking forever. Finally, after a long day, Andy once again revealed yet another perfect, tucked away, private, level & dry camp site. It was getting pretty late, so we quickly made dinner and crashed. Glen pass was front and center - we could see the traverse high, high up the ridge. It was such a beautiful sight, so exposed, so full frontal, that it gave me anxious nightmares all night long.
Day 6 - 6/5/2106
Rae Lakes - Glen Pass - Kearsarge Pass - Onion Valley
11.5 miles
The reason David hiked ahead us and up the base of Glen pass in the dark of night was to make sure we didn't get past him the next morning. Why the concern? Because he had my whippet. As I mentioned up-thread, he didn't have trekking poles or ice-axe. As we were coming down along Woods creek, the side streams were flowing very high. Once again, he had to take off his boots. Since he no poles for stability, I crossed first and threw my whippet back to him. Rather than wait for the foot drying/boots back on routine, we told him we'd either see him @ the bridge or Rae lakes.
Well, since he didn't have any fuel, he stopped at the bridge to light a fire and cook his dinner. Knowing we were at Rae, he just had to find us. I put a branch across the trail with a note stuck to it, but since he was hiking @ night, he never saw it. Worried we might get ahead, he kept going until he was certain we couldn't get past - a classic bivy up in the snow & rocks.
When the first PCTer came over & down Glen early the next morning, he asked them if he had seen two hikers going south. Assured we weren't ahead, he sat and waited. As Andy mentioned, the PCTer saw us, confirmed we were the two hikers, and told us David was up ahead. How far ahead we kept wondering as we began to climb - not trail climb, but true alpine climbing with ice axe, handholds and kick-steps. Remember, David did this in the dark. Crazy. Anyway, he saw us first and was waving up ahead. It was a happy reunion once again.
Of course, we still had to get over Glen. But before we could even reach the snow traverse, we had to up-climb around 300+ feet - that is, straight up a 60+ degree 'slope'. Again, this was true alpine climbing, using a combination of burying an ice axe, anr/or using exposed rocks for hand-holds, and literally pulling ourselves up by our upper body strength before getting to the next point where we could gain a foothold and leverage that step for the next 3-4' advance.
Once we were on the traverse, this was by far the most tenuous pass/climb I've ever done before. I'm not Mr Climber, but I've done the Whitney MR in alpine conditions, along with Forester, Shepherd & Army in snow/ice. At a minimum, this was 2x the experience - no ropes, no nothing, just a 700'+ drop off down a 50-60+ degree slope. What it took was an extremely diligent and deliberate step-by-step process. As on Mather, place ice-axe, take step, take second step, make sure you're absolutely balanced and feet are securely placed, then release (ie pull out) ice-axe, probe/place forward, step again ...
We were going very slowly, but it was only 100-150 yards across, so there wasn't any real hurry. Even with Lead Dog kidding me & nipping at my heels, I didn't increase my pace. Finally, we reached solid ground and took a break. That's when David showed us his sunburned legs. Andy, I didn't know that you had gotten a photo of the "bacon strips":
Jeez, when David rolled up his pant legs to show us the extent of his injuries, I almost swooned & fell off the snow ridge all the way back down Glenn. To fill in a little color, David is the stereotypical stoic who never complains - about anything. What he did say as he was explaining his discomfort was that his pant legs were chafing his legs - that's it. He also added that all they needed was a little wash and fresh air to let them rest. Right.
So as Andy mentioned, we insisted (actually, I told him straight out his hike was over - one of the hallmarks of shock is diminished mental faculties, so there's no room for quibbling) he hike out with us to Kearsarge. After that, we could seek some medical attention and get him taken care of. He didn't put up much of a fight - actually, none at all - so we all hiked out together.