6/14/20, mile: 777; elevation: 11,982 ft.
It’s still been very cold overnight, and sleep suprisingly doesn’t come easy. That along with the constant hum of people either talking about their Whitney summit or getting up early to hit it, this place is just plain hard to rest. Lucky for me I have planned an easy day. The next obstacle is Forester Pass, which isn’t far away, but too far for me to climb today. I’m just going to lay up short, camp close to the base and hit it early the next morning so the snow is hard.
During my lazy morning where I lay out all of my clothing (well, ALMOST all of it…) and sleeping bag to air out, I pick up on some drama amongst a couple members of a hiking family. I sit and talk with one of them for quite a while about it, thankful I don’t have those issues. But sometimes I also wish I closer relationships out here. I guess I did before Kennedy Meadows, but my little vacation but the kabosh on that for now.
The hike out is relatively easy downhill through the trees to return to the trail. For several miles, I’m still in the trees, heading to one of the bigger and more notorious creek crossings, Wallace Creek. Only this year it isn’t.
From here the trail climbs up to the Bighorn Plateau at over 11k feet and it offers huge sterile views of the valleys and the northern slope of Whitney. Sterile due to the lack of vegetation and big trees, just rocks and snow on the slopes, the mountains naked to the core. I’m blessed with a light breeze and sunshine, and again I have the whole area to myself.
Next up is Tyndall Creek, another notorious crossing in a normal year. This creek is roaring down the bedrock slab, making what looks like a fun waterslide, but more likely to shred your clothes and skin, beat you to a pulp, then send your carcass down to the San Joaquin Valley (if it doesn’t get caught in a strainer). Next up, the trail climbs out of the trees, heading straight for Forester. I end up camping just shy of 12k feet amongst some boulders to try to block the wind. Just when I think I’m alone, a couple walk past, saying they plan to summit this evening. I question the thought, mentioning that the north side is still snow covered and likely post-holey. This is one of those rare evenings I stay up to watch the sun disappear and witness the day ending in this high, remote valley.
Tomorrow is one of the biggest days of this trip. Many of us worry about the chute on Forester. It’s snow covered, exposed, and it has a long runout if the shit hits the fan. Yet I don’t think I’ve heard of one story of tragedy, either. So, it’s really a mind game. I think. One way to find out.
Savior out.