Day Six On The Pacific Crest Trail---Journey's End

DAY SIX: Thursday, August 4

This is the final installment---the last day of our backpacking trek. Today we will arrive at our end point on Donner Pass Road. While planning the trip, our daily mileage estimates were just that. We looked at topo maps, read recent reports from other hikers and hoped for the best. In actuality, each day took on a life of its own as we experienced gains or losses depending on trail conditions, unexpected detours, actual time underway with packs on, fatigue and the location of suitable stopping points. As the saying goes, all days are good but some days are better than others.

Here's what the record will show:

DAY----PLANNED MILES----ACTUAL MILES

1--------------------14.5--------------------13.1
2--------------------10.5--------------------12.0
3--------------------13.0--------------------11.0
4--------------------13.0--------------------10.5
5--------------------11.5--------------------13.5
6---------------------2.0--------------------6.0

TOTAL------------64.5-------------------66.1

So, today, instead of two miles to hike out, we have about six miles remaining. Although not a lengthy hike compared to our other days, these final six miles will not be without their challenges, hints of which were noted even overnight.

Some time after midnight, a strong wind could be heard in the trees above us and the temps had dropped, to the extent we thought an unexpected Sierra storm might blow in during our last night at camp. This morning, the sky is brilliant blue at sunrise and the wind has moved on with nothing to show for all its bluster last night. But it is still cold enough (low-30s) that all of us have added layers. In fact it's the coolest morning by 15 degrees than we have experienced all week. I suppose camping right next to several tons of snow will have that effect....


Sure enough, by the time we eat breakfast, the sun has partly cleared the trees behind us and the layers start coming off as we break camp for the last time. Given the slightly longer (and now apparently warmer) hike out, we take stock of our water supplies, knowing there will likely not be any water until we meet our ride home at Donner Pass Road. As extra insurance, we melt and boil snow sufficient for breakfast, preserving our remaining water for the trail.

As we busy ourselves with camp chores, on everyone's mind this morning is the impassible snow field between us and where we will find the trail again. The overnight temps have crusted the surface of the snow. What was slushy when we arrived last night is now almost solid with no "give" underfoot. The proverbial "elephant in the room" comes to mind and this one is clearly a white elephant. Almost on cue, we all begin to verbalize our options:

1. Cross the snow field at the level of our camp. It's the shortest distance to the other side. So, conceptually, this is an early favorite. But a quick test shows there is zero footing on the snow surface. Lacking ice picks, visions of a speedy descent to the rocks below quickly make this one is a non-starter.


2. Climb up to dry surface above the snow field and go over the top. That will mean climbing back up through the trees to where we originally ran into the snow on the trail last night, then crawling across the loose rock at the base of the peak just above the snow line. Although this option would provide a dry crossing to the other side, it might also result in the second fastest trip to the bottom. Still on the list but iffy.

3. Hike down past the snow field and across to a distant steep crease leading up to the trail. We can see the path this option would take all the way to the trail. But it by far the longest and the climb back up the crease is clearly the steepest and may not be doable.

4. Climb down well below the snow field, all the way to the tree line and follow the trees to the trail. This option will also take some time but, from our vantage point, the slope up to the trail is drier (no visible snow) and, therefore, manageable.

5. Hike down just below the snow field and cross the loose rock to firmer ground, angling through trees to an open slope on the other side. As with option #4, this would put us on dry ground below the snow, although the loose rock might make for difficult going. Eventually we will be able to angle our way up to the trail although we can't see where we will start back up the other side.

All things considered, we go with the descent aspect of options 3, 4 and 5, looking for the shortest path across to an up-slope once we clear the snow line. We angle through the trees at the closest point until we reach a steep sloping exit to the trail above.


Anticipating two hours to meet the trail, we have managed to zig-zag our way up through heavy sage brush and mule ear in just under an hour. In fact, we are so proud of ourselves---both the decision process and the execution---that we stood in the middle of the trail basking in our success (i.e., no death or injury to the old man) for a good 15 minutes.

Once underway, it is a relatively flat or slightly "down" hike toward Sugar Bowl. The boys charge ahead of us, knowing that cold water, fresh fruit, hot showers and pizza are just a few hours away. However, on reaching the turn in the trail leading across a slope below the highest chair lift, we hit one last large, steep snow field planted right across the trail. Based on our recent experience, our decision is quick and unanimous to climb the steep (and I'm talking STEEP) temporary trail up to the chair lift rather than attempt a snow crossing. In fact, Matthew, Mark and Joseph had made that decision before Ike and I caught up to them.

Lingering a while at the top, admiring the views, we finally strike out on our last 3.5 mile downhill stretch past Mount Judah and on toward Donner Pass Road. The closer we get to the end, the rockier the trail seems to get and we encounter crowds of day hikers coming up the trail. At the bottom, Sandra and Bob Puliz have already collected Matthew, Mark and Joseph who are 20 minutes ahead of Ike and me. What a sight for sore eyes. After cleaning up, I don't think I have ever seen three family-size Roundtable Pizza's disappear so fast.

Day Four On The Pacific Crest Trail

DAY FOUR: Tuesday, August 2


With renewed energy after a relaxing end of the day in camp yesterday, we are pulling out of camp at 8:20 this morning, heading north---or so we believe.


After about 15 minutes and a half-mile into our hike (along steady uphill switch-backs, by the way), we encounter two day hikers, Larry and a friend, on the trail heading toward our departure point.

Exchanging trail news and our intended directions, it doesn't take long to realize we are going the wrong way.

Somehow, in our departure from camp, we jumped on the only clear exit from camp. In retrospect, our entry into camp the day before had followed sharp diagonals across deep snow fields had actually cut across the true trail into camp, which was lost in the snow. It is purely our good fortune to have run across those two hikers so soon after our departure.


Reversing our course, we are now back on track a half-hour later, in the direction of Twin Peaks. If our initial false pathway had been uphill, our corrected route is also uphill (how can that be?) as we zig-zag our way up, eventually hitting deep snow on north facing slopes. Thankfully, the trail flattens out after about two miles or so near the intersection with the Tahoe Rim Trail around way point 1132.


Finally, we are making good time and at 10:30 we reach Twin Peaks four miles into the day. The more or less flat section of the trail continues along a long ridge at about 8,000 feet elevation above and to the west of Lake Tahoe.



The views are spectacular (again) and we are filling our eyes (and taking lots of photos) of the vistas all around. Wild flowers are popping out everywhere along the trail.


On top of it all, cell phone reception is great when we stop for lunch near way point 1134 at around 12:15. Taking advantage of the unexpectedly clear cell service, I surprise mom and dad in Fort Walton Beach, FL with a call.

Blue skies and full sun with a steady breeze at about 10 mph (ergo no mosquitos) make this stop feel like we are on top of the world---"as good as it gets" comes to mind.


At 1:30, the lunch break is over and we are on the trail again, spirits bouyed by the energy boost and a section of trail that makes hiking feel easy. Even a heavy pack doesn't detract from the moment. Can we just call for a helicopter for a pick up? The 3-1/2 hours to way point WACS1138 pass quickly as most of the trail is flat or "down" and at 4:00 p.m. we stop to pump water sufficient to get us to our campsite at way point CS1140 (elevation 7,600 feet).

The continuing easy "down" of about 400 feet gets us to our campsite by 6:00 p.m. As it turns out, there is a fast flowing creek within about 100 meters of our camp. We hadn't counted on having water so close. That will allow us to top off tomorrow morning after breakfast before heading into a long, dry section of the trail. The only relief will be snow melt streamlets in places where they wouldn't normally be this time of the year.


In camp we make our first (and only) fire on the trail---just large enough to smoke out the mosquitos and remind us of what a campfire in the outdoors is like. Tents are up in no time and dinner is underway.


In the midst of it all, David, a British native now living in Canada, stops by for a short break---he is hiking on from whence we came and is planning on making it to WACS1138 by nightfall. So, he only stays for a few minutes for some company and trail talk. He makes particular note of our "pieces of Scout garb" and tells us he figured we were Scouts. I have the sense that his experience is seeing British Scouts in full uniform, even on the trail. So, our BSA hiking shirts and neckerchiefs are sufficient but only partial evidence of our Scout identities.

David is a lone hiker and he says he is making his way toward Kearsarge Pinnacles where he had last left the trail after a full week in deep snow several weeks ago. He is clearly feeling better about his chances now, even with the snow we describe on the trail ahead of him. That optimism is somewhat hard for us to grasp as he will be fighting the uphills in snow. But contending with snow 100 percent of the time for a week must be enough to make anything else seem tame.


Overall, today has been a very good day---challenges early, then we made good time the rest of the day, putting in 10.5 miles by day's end, the last 2.5 miles of which were down. After a filling dinner and replenished water bottles, we are down for the night by 8:30.

The MCL injury seems to be holding steady with the improvised "sock sleeve" and an ace bandage provided by Mark Matney, one of our Eagle Scouts. A couple Advil gels are my insurance for the night. Tomorrow's objective is to reach as close to way point 1152 as possible. But we already know there are two major "ups" in the way not to mention unknown snow barriers. Sleep calls....

Day Three On the Pacific Crest Trail

Note to Readers: I am remiss. If you have taken the time to drop by, thanks for your interest. And if you feel moved to follow this blog, all the better. I welcome your thoughts and comments.

As for my omission, some of you may have been wondering about the weather on our trek. The forecast just prior to our departure hinted at a chance of thunder showers off and on through most of the week. Instead, the weather has been nearly perfect---not a drop of rain (as of Day Three), which will end up holding true all the way to the end. A few clouds formed in the distance on the second afternoon but didn't produce anything where we were.



The temps all week have been in the high-70s or low 80s during the day, with virtually no clouds. A slight breeze materialized from time to time to cool us down and keep the mosquitos at bay. Overnight, the temps have been in the low 40s except for the last night when the overnight low dipped into the mid-30s. So, overall, we couldn't have asked for better weather.

DAY THREE: Monday, August 1



At 8:30 a.m. we are pulling out of our camp just shy of the PCT intersection with the Genevieve Trail. The three-mile hike en route to Richardson Lake is a steady but easy "up" and then "down" as we approach the lake. Although the mosquitos are swarming while we are breaking camp, they don't seem as troublesome first thing this morning. Maybe mosquitos take a while to wake up as well. As we get into our daily hike toward Richardson Lake, the mosquitos seem to have evaporated all together.

The climb out of camp is steady but we are keeping a good pace---maybe close to 2 mph, which is good time in backpacking terms. En route, Miller Creek and North Fork present challenges as we have to cross them on logs over fast flowing water. Nothing quite like a wiggly log over a "background" of water in motion to keep you on your toes. For those of you who know me, you might attest I am not a great fan anything where my footing is not secure. These crossings are ample fun and excitement for me.

During the remaining hike to the lake, we are seeing some snow patches but nothing that is slowing us down. Along the way we are seeing the first signs of true spring in the High Sierra with wild flowers (lupens, mule ear, sheep's ear, cats paws and a host of other flowers) just starting to make their appearance. This is definitely a weird year for weather effects.



At lakeside, we pump water to top off all our bottles and camelbacks. It could be a long, dry stretch before our next water stop. While there, we take advantage of an information swap with three hikers (two men and a woman) who have just come from where we are heading. Likewise, we share our recent experience having come from Echo Lake, where they are bound. They tell us of a clear trail ahead with the heaviest snow patches mostly beyond Barker Pass. As for water on the trail, we had hoped for at least small streams forming from snow melt, which the hikers confirmed will be the case. On that basis, we now feel confident that the dry stretches will likely be short-lived.



The climb out toward Barker Pass is grueling. Several large patches of snow on the north facing slopes slow our pace dramatically. And even on the clear, south facing slopes, the uphill is a challenge. During the last mile or so before Barker Pass, wide meadows of mule ear and sheep's ear stretch on both sides of the trail. The pictures just won't do these scenes visual justice.

With excellent reception at Barker Pass, I got a call out to my wife to let her know we are pretty much on schedule and are doing well. Besides the great cell phone reception, Barker Pass has picnic tables and a vault toilet---what more could one ask for than two types of comfortable seating---and no mosquitos. All of us are enjoying the break and are gobbling down some much needed calories---I must admit, it will likely be a while after finishing this trek before I will dig into a GORP bag with the zeal I had the first day.

With such inviting accommodations as the Pass has to offer, our break is seriously eating into our remaining hiking time for the day. Time to get socks, shoes and packs back on before rigor mortis sets in. We still have about 2.5 miles to go before we sleep. So, it's time to saddle up and get to our stopping point for the night.



Almost immediately snow fields are slowing our pace and we realize those last 2.5 miles to way point WACS1129 will not be easy. Even the last few hundred meters to the campsite take us over steep, rugged terrain almost completely covered by deep snow under a dense forest canopy. Punctuating the day is one last stream crossing with dubious snow bridges separating us from our camp. By the time we land on terra ferma , it is 5:30 and we are ready to stop and recharge while there is still some daylight left.



Within minutes, our packs are off, tents are up and we are pumping water to refill our reserves before getting dinner underway. We even have enough daylight left to do some exploring around camp. Who knew we would have that much energy? Without a doubt walking uphill without a pack is way cool. From the top of the ridge above camp, the views of Lake Tahoe in the distance are spectacular.



What a great way to end the day, after 11 challenging miles. Although we are already anticipating the hard uphill climb out of camp in the morning, we are optimistic that the trail will be mostly on south facing slopes, clear of snow.

Day Two On The Pacific Crest Trail

DAY TWO: Sunday, July 31

Got up early this morning eager to hit the trail. Because we had the benefit of starting our trek from the comfort of Todd Thompson's cabin yesterday morning, this is our first full day from start to finish on the trail.
As a practical exercise, it is our first experience stepping through what we expect to be a morning routine: breakfast, tents down, all gear repacked, morning constitutional, water supplies replenished, energy supplies for the day easily accessible....

As with any first time experience, there are lots of "dos" and "re-dos". Is my pack as tight as it can be? Is my water topped off and did I distribute it evenly in my pack? Is the bear cannister positioned where it will be most comfortable on my back? Where did I put my walking stick? Sun screen and mosquito repellent on? Leave no trace.

We leave our accommodations near Gilmore Lake by 9:30 as the sun is already beginning to warm the air and the mosquitos are on the hunt. We have seen almost no wildlife on the trail except a rare sighting of an occasional bird or marmot. So, how can there be so many mosquitos with so little to feed on? With the heavy and late snow falls this year and the delayed spring, the mosquitos are birthing late and are in survival mode. That might explain the constant swarms around us---even hundreds perched on our packs as we hike, waiting for an injection/extraction opportunity.

The only natural defenses seem to be a stiff breeze or the cold air surrounding us as we hike across snow. And did I mention real estate? Apparently, mosquitos didn't get the memo re: location, location, location. Based on the number of bites (I stopped counting at 200) in places where there shouldn't be bites, let's just say mosquitos are not picky eaters. Granted it is anecdotal evidence from a limited sample of one using a small spade in the forest. But I can attest to a validated research finding suggesting an untapped market niche for TP infused with "Essence of Off"!

Leaving Gilmore Lake, we hit a steady uphill with several large snow fields to cross. If the slope faces north, you can count on snow. Navigating across even narrow stretches of snow is a challenge with a pack on your back. But after losing the trail too easily east of Aloha Lake yesterday, we are tuning in much more closely to where the trail should continue on the other side of each patch of snow. Although we only lost the trail briefly on the approach to Dick's Pass (elevation 9,380 feet) this morning, it has taken us over three hours to hike up through the pass and back down to Dick's Lake (elevation 8,360 feet).

The relatively easy hike on the "down" slope leaving Dick's Pass has made the decision easy to pass Dick's Lake by, opting instead to pump water at the north end of Fontinillis Lake, about 1.5 miles further on. We are celebrating that decision on two fronts: the mosquitos have totally disappeared and Fontinillis Lake is strikingly picturesque, beautifully set amidst lots of large boulders all along the shoreline.

After replenishing our water and recharging with GORP, energy bars and gels, Middle Velma Lake is our next landmark, which we should reach by 3:15. Not needing to pump water so soon after Fontinillis Lake, we are pressing on to Fipps Creek as our next water stop (and the last water before we get to Richardson Lake).

Looking at the map, the trail ahead to all the way to Richardson Lake is looking very manageable with only a slight elevation change from 7,950 feet to 8,100 feet, then back down to 7,850 feet. How hard could that be, right? But sometimes contour lines can be deceiving. What a surprise to find a convincing "up" slope soon after leaving Middle Velma Lake---exhausting is a better word. Also we had anticipated more granite by this time based on the map indications of a "dry" trail for several miles. Instead, the forest is thick, with large trees all around us. Fortunately, the "up" leaving Middle Velma was short-lived and we are once again on an easy "down" all the way to Fipps Creek.

One thing about "downs" is there will invariably be an "up" on the other side. Sure enough, after pumping water at Fipps Creek, the climb out is tough. We stopped just long enough to toss down some quick calories and plenty of water to fuel our escape. Now the long flat stretch approaching the trail split between the PCT and the Lake Genevieve Trail feels pretty good. But our crew of five are all feeling the fatigue of the ups and down of the trail---not to mention several exciting stream crossings. It is already nearly 6:30 and hunger is nagging at us.

So, although our hoped for camping spot at Richardson Lake is only about three miles away (which translates to about 1.5 - 2.0 hours, assuming no unknown obstacles), we have decided to stop for the night, once again a bit shy of the day's objective. After a quick camp set up and dinner---I'm having a double order of lasagna, by the way---we are now in our tents at 8:30, glad to be prone and away from the mosquitos, which have been swarming around us most of the day.


We covered 12 miles today and are satisfied with our effort. But we're looking forward to making up some miles tomorrow if we can, hopefully with an earlier start and a kinder trail. Tomorrow we will be leaving Desolation Wilderness, optimistic that we won't be going from desolation to despair....

On Becoming An Eagle Scout

Parents, Honored Guests, Friends and Fellow Scouts:

I am honored to have this opportunity to speak to you about the meaning of Scouting in the lives of the young men who choose to be part of it and particularly those who persevere on the Trail to Eagle. But I must say, some of you know all too well there is a great risk in giving me a podium and an audience with a whole evening before me and a subject I love. All I can promise is to try to practice the Ninth Point of the Scout Law and be "Thrifty" with your time this evening.

Scouting is one of the greatest organizations in the world to foster the highest ideals of citizenship and service. It is little wonder then that so many of our nation’s greatest leaders had some of their earliest leadership experiences in Scouting. Some aspects of the Scouting program may have changed over time. But one thing remains constant. That is, the total development from boyhood to manhood is still founded on the physical, mental, and moral excellence expressed in and demanded by the Scout Oath and Scout Law.

When most boys enter Scouting, they likely picture themselves as someday becoming Eagle Scouts. But as often happens, many activities and interests clamor for their attention as they enter their high school years and the early Scouting flames and aspirations may dim to ashes and flicker away. After all, historically only about four percent of Scouts have achieved the Eagle Rank.

So, what does the Eagle badge represent in the lives of the young men who earn it? Certainly, it means that a Scout has set his eyes on a challenging goal and has worked hard to achieve it. But more importantly, it is a measure of a boy’s future potential as he grows to manhood. In truth, achieving the Eagle Scout Rank is not an end but simply an open door to the future.

There is much that can be said about the Trail to Eagle, about the challenges along the way and about the accomplishment itself—the what, how and when. But I would like to highlight one point that is often missed. That is, long before a Scout can actually reach this high honor, he has a decision to make. That decision is the fundamental answer to the question, “Do I want to be an Eagle Scout?”

In fact, this very question is the “why” that drives each prospective Eagle Scout forward. It is a decision only the Scout himself can make. That these young men are here before you is clear evidence each one made the decision and stayed the course.

Certainly, their family and friends encouraged them and maybe even gently nudged them at various points along the way. And any Scout would likely tell you that an encouraging word can be like gold when the journey gets tough and a Scout has to dig deep, then deeper still, just to keep going. But ultimately, and by design, the Scout must answer the call of the soaring eagle for himself, just as each of these young men did.

For some the decision may have come early in their Scouting careers. For others, it may have happened much later, after an awakening about what becoming an Eagle Scout means to them. And did I mention there is a clock ticking away in the background? Yes, at age 18, the Trail to Eagle ends for all Boy Scouts.

But regardless of when the decision occurs, that is the moment each Scout truly learns the importance of the Eagle Scout Rank in his own life. It is at that decision point when he accepts the challenge, makes the commitment and maps out a personal plan and strategy to meet the goal.

How many Ranks and Merit Badges do I have left and can I complete them all in time? What will I do for my Eagle Service Project and how long do I need to finish it? Have I completed all my Leadership requirements and have I done my best to be an active mentor to other Scouts in the Troop looking to me for guidance? These are the questions each Scout must answer for himself, often when facing the many other demands of an increasingly busy schedule of school, family, sports and even work activities.

On occasion, the Scout’s decision to embark on the Trail to Eagle may be challenged by others—peers in school, team mates or even friends—who may not fully understand the pull of the spirit of Scouting. No matter, because it is a Scout’s own personal motivation which will carry him across the finish line.

As I thought about each of the young men seated before you this evening, I noted a common theme along their Trail to Eagle. It has been a clear and strong sense of self and, yes, even a bit of a stubborn streak, that has stood them in good stead on their individual journeys. Indeed, I would have no trouble speaking volumes about the strong personal attributes of each one.

Some have left their mark on academics, others in athletic competition. Some followed Eagles in their own families or reached that goal as the first. Some have excelled in math and science, others in the arts. Some have dug snow caves that would match any survivor's story, others have climbed mountains or backpacked for miles for the sheer joy of it.

However, regardless of their individual accomplishments, skills and talents both inside and outside of Scouting, they are now bound together by one common conviction—they are, and always will be, Eagle Scouts who are 100 percent guilty of being Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean and Reverent.

Gentlemen, Welcome to the Eagles' Nest. It is a personal honor and a singular pleasure to be in your company.

And it’s a great day for Scouting!