Entry into the Sierra

I heard clapping. Strange. I looked up to see what was going on. A dozen people were sitting on the porch of the Kennedy Meadows General Store cheering. Why were they all looking at my group? Then I realized, they were clapping for us.

I had heard once about the tradition, but had forgotten until this moment. When thru-hikers approach Kennedy Meadows South (KMS), they are greeted with a round of applause. A show of support and mutual admiration from hiker to fellow hiker, it’s a heart warming tradition.

Shortly after mile 700, KMS is a significant milestone as it marks the end of the desert and entry into the Sierra Nevada. Among my four closest friends, my tramily, I couldn’t help but swell with a little pride as we approached the general store together, cheered on by our peers.

The tramily at mile 700, shortly before arriving at KMS

Graduating from the desert is a victory for sure, but the fun is just beginning. The stop in KMS serves as a staging ground for the entry into the Sierra. Camping behind the general store, my group took a day and a half to resupply and get organized.

There’s a lot to do… eat, drink, pick up new gear, send home other gear, eat, drink, check the map, make an itinerary, call home, buy and sort seven days of food, try to fit it all in your new bear canister, fail, but try three more times. Paint your fingernails weird colors (another thru-hiker tradition, don’t ask me why). Eat, drink.

Most years, the ideal time frame to enter the Sierra is generally understood to be between June 1st and June 15th. This year, despite some late season storms, the snow began to melt relatively quickly and we felt confident departing KMS May 31st.

North of KMS, hikers soon ascend to elevations of 10,000+ feet. After 6-8 weeks of hiking in the desert, the entry into the Sierra is a little shock to the system. Leaving the scrubby desert, the landscape transforms into pine forests and rocky alpine zones. The trail becomes more challenging with steep ascents and descents, snow-covered passes, and raging water crossings. Backpacks become significantly heavier with the addition of required bear canisters, ice axe, microspikes and other cold weather gear. My shoulders were aching within twenty minutes of leaving KMS.

When you’re in the Sierra Nevada though, you hardly notice a heavy pack. The Sierra captivates with its majestic peaks towering over pristine alpine lakes, lush meadows, and vibrant wildflowers. The range’s rugged granite cliffs frame vistas that stretch far into the horizon, representing some of the most impressive scenery in the world.

Everything is different in the Sierra:  new gear, new terrain, new routines. There are week long stretches between towns, roads, and cell phone service.

And so, I’ve gotten woefully behind on the blog. Sitting here now in Kennedy Meadows North, approaching the final stretch of the Sierra, it’s hard to process the hiking whirlwind that has occurred since I was in Kennedy Meadows South a few weeks ago.

I hope to catch up over the next couple posts, doing my best to summarize some of the scenes and highlights of the Sierra. I’ll start with Mt Whitney.

Mount Whitney

At 14,505 feet, Mt Whitney is the tallest peak in the contiguous U.S.. The PCT doesn’t actually pass over Whitney; it skirts the peak a few miles to the west. However, many thru-hikers take a side quest to summit it.

Typically permits to climb Whitney are hard to come by, involving a competitive lottery system. The PCT long-distance permit, however, covers an ascent Whitney from the west side on the John Muir Trail, despite it not technically being part of the PCT.

Normally I’m not super into “peak bagging,” preferring collecting long distance trails over collecting summits, but this was too good an opportunity to let pass. Summiting THE tallest U.S. mountain outside of Alaska would be worth an extra day’s effort. Plus, when would I be in better shape for such an endeavor?

Three days after leaving KMS, my group arrived at the Crabtree Ranger Station, which serves as a base camp for the climb up Mt Whitney. Eating an early dinner we went to bed around six, to try to get some rest before the early start.

We agreed to start hiking at 1 am, with the goal of making it to the summit by sunrise. The early start would ensure the best conditions, maximizing time before the firm snow turned to slush.

I woke at 12:50 am to the sound of tent zippers and rustling packs. I quickly realized that I had accidentally set my alarm for 12:30 pm, not 12:30 am. Grateful that the others packing up woke me up, I got ready quickly and was ready to go in no time. (Fortunately, packing up camp quickly is my superpower on trail. Everyone always comments on how fast I can get ready. Maybe it’s all my years in the Army).

Ten of us met at the trailhead by headlamp. In the dark we began the eight mile/four thousand foot ascent. It was tough but doable, microspikes attached and ice axe in hand. I was grateful to have some trail legs built up for the snowy switchbacks.

The summit was worth the effort. We were blessed with a clear day and in the early morning light we could see expansive views of the Sierra Nevada range stretching out in all directions, with jagged peaks and deep valleys below.

On top of the world! Ok, on top of the U.S…. Ok, on top of the contiguous U.S….

But still.

Descending Whitney – on to the next adventure!