Today has been a long day of prep and getting back to the trail, but a short day of hiking on the PCT.
I caught the bus from the resort to town at 9, leaving me just enough time to get my resupply box, get back to the hotel, pack, and head out. My parents have been worried I won't have enough food, but after trying to cram everything into my pack I am worried the opposite is true. I figured that part of my fatigue has been going into calorie debt, so I bought a lot of food at the store. I had also purchased food for the hotel room so I wouldn't have to eat out. When this morning rolled around I hadn't eaten all my hotel food, and couldn't bring myself to throw it out. My pack weighs about the same as my heaviest resupply so far, but the items are a bit bulkier. I had to strap a grocery bag to the outside of my pack to fit the last of the food!
I hiked 2 miles up to the summit of Minaret Road, where there is a view point before the road heads down into the Reds Meadow area. Here there is a forest service booth where fees are collected. The booth was empty on my way out, but today a middle aged woman was at her post. She intercepted me and informed me that she couldn't let me in. I asked why. She said it was because the road was closed to the public. Now the nearest entry to the PCT, aside from the road, was 2 miles back, a bus ride to the other side of Mammoth, a 7 mile hike over Mammoth Pass, all to get me to a point on the trail I had passed 10 miles ago. I pointed this out to the ranger, also mentioning that Andy had hiked out that route and, according to him, the downed trees on that trail were terrible. She suggested that I go in that way, via June Lakes, or get a forest service truck to give me a lift down to Agnew Meadow. I was astounded. Essentially she was saying that she didn't care if I hiked through the park, just so long as I didn't gain access via the shortest and safest road available (cuz, duh um, it's s'posta be closed), even though there are no signs posted down along the trail notifying through hikers of this decision. I pointed out that there were no signs telling hikers to use the Mammoth Pass trail. She pointed to a sign by her kiosk that said "road closed." In a snotty tone she said "well you saw that when you hiked out, so maybe you should have considered it before you tried to hike back in this way." I silently counted to three. "You see," I replied, "when I planned my resupply route I actually wasn't sitting outside this kiosk. Ergo, the road closure was not known to me. When I hiked up here, none the wiser, I was already 10 miles past the Mammoth Pass trail. I am now three short miles from the trail, and to go the other route would be an extra 17 miles." She saw my obvious frustration and said she would call a supervisor. When nobody answered she told me that she would try again later, but until then the answer was no. She suggested I hang out at the picnic area at the view point and check back with her in an hour. Yeah. Sure. I'll get right on that.
I walked to the view point and began to admire the view over the valley. I admired it so much that I decided to step beyond the concrete apron and get a closer look. Wouldn't you know it, I was so caught up in the view that I got myself lost. I did some dead reckoning on the direction of the ranger's kiosk, intent on being a good citizen and checking back in with her. But shucks, the more I walked the more lost I got. Before I knew it I hit a road. Figuring going down it would surely lead me back to the kiosk, I set out. Imagine my surprise, then, when I found myself in Agnew Meadow back at the PCT. Well as long as I was here there seemed no sense in going back to bother the ranger, so I headed out on the PCT instead. It does just eat me up inside when I think of that poor ranger waiting for me to check in. Eats me right the hell up.
Anyway, I climbed a gentle hill from 8300 up to 9800 feet over about 8 miles. The wind was whipping and the tall peaks were shrouded in clouds. I began to plan to stop short of Donahue Pass. It sits at 10,800 feet, which isn't high, but I learned from Glenn Pass not to take chances. Around mile 7 it started alternately raining and hailing. Not much at first. I pressed on to Thousand Islands Lake, 8 miles in, when the hail really picked up. The hail increased in size until it was like getting hit with little BBs. With the howling wind those bastards really hurt. I hauled up short for the day, and sooner got my tent up than the hail increased again to two and three times the size (pictured with spoon for scale). It was now coming down in sheets, with a wind that threatened to tear my tent down. I jumped inside as the first crash of thunder struck. Great.
I saw a flash and counted Mississippis.
"One Miss.." (CRASH!!!!)
Crap, the storm is right over me. As I write this the hail is worse than anything I've seen, though the thunder (which was so close I could feel the rumble) has moved on to the North (right where I would be now, on an exposed 10,000+ peak, had I not stopped early).
Still, I am cozy and warm in my new tent. I cooked dinner (Thai ahi over rice) and followed up with coffee and cookies. My goal is to eat through some of the extra food, and load on calories for the hiking ahead. Meanwhile, to kill time, I'm going through my new nature guide identifying species of flora and fauna I have seen on my trip so far. The noise of the wind and the hail on the rain fly is deafening so I'm not sure how I will manage to sleep tonight. Definitely a motrin PM night!
