I began my day with 26 miles to the next water source that would be alongside the trail. There would actually be two other opportunities for water, but both were springs that were well off trail, and I didn't want to rely on them. I had three liters of water, so I began rationing right away. I started early, before the sun was more than a finger or two over the horizon, because I also knew that most of the day would be uphill. The morning was cool and breezy, and hiking on the shaded western faces of hills allowed me to pass the first 7 miles without touching my water.
This section was all dry chaparral (pictured) and the trail was loose sandy gravel. Soon I reached a steep 600 foot hill, and the morning breeze turned into staggering gusts. The wind, sun, steep grade, and loose sand all conspired to drain me of energy. I tried to think positively as I tackled the hill. The wind, though probably rapidly dehydrating me, was also keeping me cool. The steep grade was saving me miles of switchbacks. The soft gravel was easier on my bruised feet than hard packed trail. I didn't quite buy all the positive thinking, but at least I tried.
Another six miles and I reached Bird Spring Pass. Some wonderful trail angel had left a large water cache here. I was due to ration myself half a liter, so I drank that and an extra liter for good measure. I also ate as much as I could because, on the other side of the road was the largest climb of the day (pictured). The mountain was 1500 feet up in 3.5 miles. Not the hardest climb, but in the sun with limited water it was no slouch either. Still, with a belly full of water and food I was feeling more than up for the challenge. I punched that mountain in the face until it fell, defeated before my glorious masculinity. I was just cruising along the mountain top, reveling in my Chuck Norris-esque display of man-tastic badassery, when I got my first distant view of the high Sierras (pictured). They made my mountain look kind of puny in comparison, and I promptly stopped feeling so accomplished.
I had a short descent from the mountain before starting the last 7 miles of gradual uphill to the spring. During this stretch, which was no longer chaparral but instead pine forest, I began to notice the occasional prickly pear cactus. This would probably be the last stretch where I would see them, and John Curtis had recommended trying their fruit. The fruit on these didn't look overly ripe, but I figured "what the hell? No harm in trying a taste and throwing the rest out." I cut off a fruit and scored it like an orange. The peel came away easily and I began to think this might actually work out.... yeah. So I ended up with this little white oblong ball, about the size of a walnut. I bite into the end and there is no real flavor. It's almost dry, despite the moist and slightly sticky exterior. I look down into the fruit, and that is when I see the dozens of little yellow worms who are also enjoying this particular fruit. I spit out my bite, feel worms wriggling on my tongue and spit some more. I have now decided to return to my strict policy of not eating trailside vegetation.
Shortly afterward, nature made up for my... dining experience with my first (wild) bear sighting of the trip. I came around a bend and startled a decent size black bear who had been relaxing about 10 feet off the trail and 30 feet ahead. My pace brought me within about 20 feet before he could get up, turn around, and beat a hasty retreat. All this happened so quickly that all I got was a freeze frame image of a black bear, flying over a log with limbs stretched out in a superman pose. Man those things can move!
From there the day was pretty mellow. The spring ended up being nowhere to be found, but I was only a few miles from highway 178 and Walker Pass, so I just stretched my dwindling water supply a bit further. I snapped a photo at the top of the hill before the pass, with a closer view of the mountains, and checked for reception on my phone. Nada. I got to camp, filtered water and ate. A girl named Kara wandered by and introduced herself (brave of her considering I haven't bathed well in days). She is an instructor with a private school that has an outdoors segment to their curriculum. They send out a leader with each small group of students, who will learn basic backpacking. Sounds like a cool gig, I'll have to check it out.
So I've made a drastic error. I didn't firm up plans for a resupply, and I haven't had reception on my phone for days.worse, I got mixed up and told my parents that the mileage to here was the mileage to Kennedy Meadows. So they probably think I'm almost there. To top it all off, my maps from Walker Pass to Kennedy Meadows are in my resupply box, so I don't even know how far it is. $#%@! I think, in the morning, I will wash up in the nearby creek and then hitch a ride to Lake Isabella. If Kennedy Meadows is more than two days I don't have the food to make it there. Besides, my parents may drive out there tomorrow thinking to meet me. I need a phone ASAP. But for now, after a 33 mile day with lots of hill work, I need sleep!
