Section 8 - Kennedy Meadows to Vermillion Resort View Photos June 3 21 miles. It's 25 degrees, dropping fast, and just stopped snowing after snowing most of the afternoon. I'm huddled in my tent on the Kern Plateau--the headwaters of the Kern River--after a 4,500 foot climb to 10,500 feet. Is this really June? I got a late start (9:15) this morning as it was too cold to get out of bed and somebody forgot to bring me hot chocolate. Last night's snow in Kennedy Meadows didn't stick but the ground was white just a couple of miles up the trail. Fortunately, it was a sunny morning and much of it melted as the day wore on. But the clouds gathered again by mid-afternoon and it snowed the rest of the hike. This morning, after a 2,000 foot climb, I reached beautiful Monache Meadows--the largest meadow in the Sierra. I had it all to myself. This area, the South Sierra Wilderness, gets very few visitors. PCT hikers and a few horsepackers make up the total. It's wild, remote, and breathtaking. I had lunch in a meadow on the South Fork of the Kern River and watched golden trout feeding in the shallows. When the clouds closed in I packed up and left for the high pass. I wondered what the temperature was and then answered my own question when I saw the icicle hanging from my drinking tube. It's very cold but very beautiful and I surely wouldn't trade this for desert heat. June 4 21 Miles. It was 20 degrees at 7 a.m. and never got above 40. There are still snow flurries coming down but it looks like the weather may break soon. This is the coldest "summer" backpacking I've ever experienced. Despite today's snow flurries and bitter cold wind, it was an absolutely stupendous walk. I'm definitely in the High Sierra now. I spent all day above 10,000 feet walking high meadows and ridges of foxtail pine. The views were incredible, from high peaks to the Owens Valley. This is truly where heaven meets earth. I'm one day's walk from Mt. Whitney--at 14,495 feet, the highest peak in the contiguous United States. Once there I'll be back in very familiar territory: mountains, lakes, and meadows I've been hiking for nearly 30 years. I'm very much at home here. There's something about the Sierra that's unlike anywhere else on Earth. John Muir called it "The Range of Light" and he's absolutely correct. The Sierra is also the range of water, wind, wildness, and, best of all, walking. From granite domes to meadows to lake-filled plateaus to understory-free forests one can walk virtually without limits. I'm following the PCT--also called the John Muir Trail here--but there are an infinite number of possible routes through this region. I'm camped tonight on another saddle, surrounded by foxtail pine, at nearly 11,000 feet. Across the valley, frosted and storm-clouded Mt. Langley rises to over 14,000 feet--10,000 feet above the Owens Valley. Other PCT hikers are ahead and behind me but I have this saddle to myself. June 5 26 miles. I'm camped on the Bighorn Plateau at over 11,000 feet with one of the best views in all the Sierra. I'm 6 miles north of the turnoff to Mt. Whitney and have a nearly 360 degree view. I can see Mt. Whitney, The Great Western Divide, Forester Pass and the northern wall of Sequoia National Park, and nearly the entire Kern River Drainage. The peaks are clothed in winter white from the recent storm. I had another awe-inspiring walk. I entered Sequoia National Park this morning at near timberline amid foxtail pines, rushing streams and small half-frozen lakes. There are winter snowbanks here and fresh snow from the storm but nothing that impedes walking. The other hikers have turned off to climb Mt. Whitney so I am alone. Just before the Mt. Whitney turnoff, I dropped into a canyon at about 9,500 feet. The snow had recently cleared and small flowers were pushing up through the brown, matted meadows. I stopped at the stream for lunch and watched small birds darting and swooping to feed on newly-hatched insects. I looked up to see a fox, or fox-like creature, skirt furtively around the meadow's edge. Tomorrow I will cross Forester Pass--at 13,200 feet, the highest point on the PCT. June 6 21 miles. This was the most physically demanding day of the trip. I hiked over two high passes--Forester(13,200) and Glen(12,000)--in icy, breakable snow most of the way. The trail was completely snowed over for at least 15 miles. It's early season and with the recent snow and cold weather the snow hasn't consolidated. I was counting on good old Sierra cement but it's not yet to be. Judging by the absence of tracks, no one has been this way for many days. During the hike up to Forester Pass I saw a helicopter swoop in over the ridge and pick up several people from a shelf below me. Why, I don't know. Their tracks went up to the pass and then stopped. My ice ax saved me numerous times today from long slides--or worse--during the ascents and descents. Glen Pass was especially bad because the sun had dropped and the steep slopes had iced over. Not an experience I want to repeat. When I reached Rae Lakes at the bottom of Glen Pass, I floundered in waste-deep snow for over an hour attempting to cross the land bridge between the frozen lakes. I'm exhausted. June 7 13 miles. I lost the trail in the snow, went over the wrong pass, and had to backtrack. I was here last summer--without the snow--and made the mistake of relying on memory rather than trust my map and compass. In retrospect, I mixed up Pinchot Pass with Mather Pass--the next one to come--and went for a similar looking col. Stupid. I learned my lesson but it cost me 3 hours and extreme frustration. I'm camped on the tundra at the base of Pinchot Pass--which I should have long since crossed--at 11,500 feet surrounded by snow and ice. This is the only snow-free spot in this basin. The snow has been gone for only 2 or 3 days and the tiny plants are already budding and sending out green shoots. The tenacity of life at this altitude is astonishing. I'm sharing the space with a pair of ptarmigan, their feathers beginning to turn from winter white to summer brown. They were as surprised to see me as I was to see them but they will be glad to see me go. It's still very cold. It didn't get out of the 40's today and it dropped to 30 degrees at 7:30 p.m. as soon as the sun went behind the ridge. Teens tonight? Tomorrow I will attempt to cross both Pinchot and Mather Passes and make good progress toward Muir Pass. The snow was a little firmer today so I'm hopeful I can get through without too much more delay. Had I known better I should have waited another week before trying to cross through the High Sierra. The snowpack is clearly below normal but it's very hard walking in this dying slush. I can't afford any more mistakes like today or I will run out of food before Vermilion Valley. June 8 20 Miles. It was another beautiful but exhausting day with ascents and descents through 15 miles of snow. Pinchot Pass(12,100) this morning wasn't too bad but the trail was completely buried. Mather Pass (12,100), on the other hand, was truly frightening. The trail was buried and the snow was too rotten to hold me so I climbed the rock walls instead. I was definitely on the edge getting over it. Cynthia says that I have a guardian angel and after today I believe her. I'm feeling much better now about my chances of getting to Vermilion Valley before I run out of food. I have 50 miles to go and enough food for 3 days so, barring some other disaster, I should be OK. I saw a human today! I don't think I've ever been so excited to see a complete stranger. After the ordeals of the last few days it was very comforting. "Kevin" is just out of college and came in over a pass from the Owens Valley for a few days to unwind. He was headed over Mather Pass the next day and I wished him well. I'm camped in Leconte Canyon--a spectacular valley with granite walls rising 5,000 feet above the valley floor. I'm down to 8,000 feet and spring is in full bloom. There are birds, deer, chipmunks, wildflowers, frogs (toads?), and the sound of rushing water everywhere. This is a long way from the stark, white world of the last couple of days. June 9 19 Miles. I made it over Muir Pass (11,955) and down to Evolution Valley--about 12 miles of snow. The end is near. One more pass tomorrow--Seldon at under 11,000 feet--and then I'm home free to Vermilion Valley Resort. During the climb out of Leconte Canyon I saw evidence of great avalanches that crash the valley floor during winter and spring. Whole swatches of forest lay broken like twigs at points along the trail. As I climbed higher I saw remnants of an avalanche from last winter that still completely blocked the canyon. Tree shards lay everywhere and shattered trunks protruded through the snow like gravestones. It was an awesome reminder of the violence of winter. I had a visitor last night. Just at dusk, as I was getting settled in my bag, I heard a branch break and looked over to see a beautiful golden-colored California black bear. It was about 25 yards away and had wondered down the trail in search of food. Not mine, fortunately, but grubs or ants or something that lives in tree stumps. I watched and then listened for quite some time as it searched for spring morsels and then rumbled off into the night. Muir Pass is crowned by a magnificent 1930's stone cabin, courtesy of the Sierra Club. I went in and spent some time resting in the cool, damp interior. I signed a ledger and closed the door, just as thousands of other hikers have done during the previous 60 years. A marmot greeted me outside, hoping for a treat, but I left it to its own resources and headed down the mountain. Evolution Valley (9,500 feet) is one of my favorite places in all the world. This is the first time I've seen it in early spring and it's even more beautiful than it is in summer. The sound of rushing water is everywhere. There are frogs, flowers, fish, and fowl. The green flush is like a soothing compress on today's searing, icy whiteness. I'm camped by the cabin of the summer ranger. I was hoping to say hi but, alas, I'm too early and it's all boarded up. June 10 20 Miles. I dropped all the way down to 7,800 feet in the San Joaquin river drainage before the 3,000 foot ascent of Seldon Pass (10,800)--the last pass before Lake Edison. Seldon Pass was another snowy slog, especially on the north-facing descent but at about 6 miles of snow it wasn't nearly as bad as the previous passes have been. I'm only a half-day's walk from a much needed rest and massive calorie injection. I would have gone a little further today but I'm hung up by a wall of water at Bear Creek. It's in full snow melt, like all the other streams I've forded, but late this afternoon it was just too powerful to attempt to cross. I'm counting on a cool night to bring the water level down. We shall see... June 11 16 Miles. Vermilion Valley Resort at last! I'm not sure I've ever been more relieved to be somewhere in my life. The physical and mental stresses of the last 6 days are gone. Did I mention I was happy to be here? Vermilion Valley Resort (VVR) is at the western end of Lake Edison--a large reservoir high above Fresno at 7,700 feet. The PCT goes within 1 mile of the other end of the lake. In the summer, VVR operates a water shuttle to ferry hikers and fishermen across the lake. When I got to the ferry dock this afternoon the sign was gone and it was obvious the ferry wasn't running. So I turbo-hiked the extra 5 miles around the lake and got here in less than an hour and a half. Butch Wiggs, the owner of VVR, greeted me at the door and said, "Oh, a PCT hiker, I guess it's time to start the ferry service." According to Butch, I'm the first PCT hiker through the High Sierra to VVR this year. I just finished my first round of calorie injections consisting of: 2 beers, 2 salads, cheeseburger, grilled cheese sandwich, bowl of chili, 1 lb. sirloin steak, baked potato with butter and sour cream, garlic toast, baked beans, coffee, and berry pie-ala-mode. I can't wait for breakfast! It feels great to be here. I've now hiked about 870 miles--halfway through California and nearly a third of the way to Canada. I'm taking a couple of much needed days off to regroup and then it's just another 65 miles to Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite where Cynthia will meet me.