6/21/20: mile: 879; elevation: 7,900 ft.
Well, I finally broke the cycle, I was inside my tent as the sun rose. What a different feeling to not be in a rush to make miles in order to “enjoy” the right snow conditions for another pass traverse. Of course, being down in a river valley, the warming air brought out the mosquitoes. There’s always something to complain about out here. Today’s goal: climb out of this river valley, get off the PCT and walk or take a boat ferry to the Vermilion Valley Resort. There, I get to eat prepared food, have an adult beverage or four and take a zero day. Eleven days of continuous hiking deserves a break.
Not long after leaving camp, the trail climbs out of Bear Creek. Along here, Joshua and Ya catch and pass me on the climb. I’m still exhausted, and climbs just wear me down even with a lighter pack. At one of the rest points when we cross paths, I recommend a trail name for them: Duct Tape. I’ll let them decide who is Duct and who is Tape; but they certainly appear like two pieces of duct tape stuck together. Due to the cultural differences, I had to show them what I mean with some of the gorilla tape I have wrapped on my trekking poles. The look of enlightenment on their faces pretty much guarantees they’ll accept the names. Along this climb, I also get cell service finally. How long has it been? I send texts and make phone calls wishing Happy Father’s Day, FYYFF’s!
Once down at the bottom at Mono Creek, I take time to soak my feet in the cold water and eat some food. I’m not in a rush since I have all afternoon to either wait for the afternoon ferry or hike around the lake potentially beating the boat and getting my beer earlier. Seeing a guy sitting at the dock, I make the decision to wait for the boat; any more walking today sounds ludicrous.
Alex has already been here a couple of hours. He injured his ankle and scraped the hell out of his legs trying to rescue his dog as it was swept down Mono Creek and drowned yesterday. It was his day one of a long weekend of fly fishing. Needless to say, he was devastated and itching to the fuck out of here. What do you say to a complete stranger after hearing this? I’m honored he shared it with me, and we continued to talk about dogs, our current life situations and generally just getting to know each other. Instead of wasting my afternoon away walking around the lake alone to beat the ferry by 30 minutes or so, I just sat by the lake in the sun and got to know Alex. The trail provides.
Soon enough, other hikers started showing up, so I was glad Alex and I were the first in line for the ferry, which can only carry 6-ish people and packs. Another boat shows up to pick up a private party, and as they leave before us, they lift their beers in salute to us dry folks still waiting. When the ferry arrives, there’s a couple who are taking an afternoon cruise, so the boat can only take three of us hikers: Alex, Coyote and me. Too bad for the other hikers who’ll have to wait for the boat to return, but lucky for us. The touring couple have a cooler of beers and are willing to share. The ferry has a bigger motor, so we’re soon passing the first “private” ferry that left earlier, and I’m lifting my beer in salute along with a parade wave. Small pleasures. And small world, too. This is the same couple I spent time with back at Kennedy Meadows South (mile 700).
I buy Alex a beverage before his departure, then we have dinner. He’s pretty much given up on leaving tonight (the road into here is very narrow and twisty), instead camping with us hikers in the dirt patch called Mushroom City that’s free for us. Other hikers take him in and hear his story, offering whatever ear and support they can. More hikers show, day turns to night, lips are loosened, stories told around the campfire, hugs shared and plans made. Tomorrow is tomorrow. We’re living right now. I’m taking a zero tomorrow, trying to recuperate. Instead of actually resting, I sit at a stool or the picnic table all day. Talking with hikers (PCT and JMT alike), spend time with Alex and generally just being social. I’ve needed this for a while now, and I’m not going to give it up for just a little sleep. And Alex spends another night with us hiker trash.
The next morning, trail life returns as some others and me pack up, organize and make plans for the ferry. Alex is kind enough to pass out his unused trail food to us vultures, me getting some candy that I think my body has desperately needed during the big climbs. And the Trader Joe’s instant coffee packets (with creamer and sugar) taste amazingly well to a guy that’s been strictly a strong and black type of dude. Again, extra calories? The body craves, the trail provides.
Thank you Alex. I hope we helped just a little bit. You certainly gave me an opportunity to give back, and I feel grateful. I’m so glad I was lazy and decided to wait for the ferry. I’m excited for your future. Raleigh or Chico? And thanks for the Swedish Swimmers, those things rock!