Trailhead
New Boots • Gathering • Grapevine • Springer Fever
A.T. Companion • Headlamp Material • Work Trips • Side Trails
1,153 MILES INTO OUR hike of the 2638-mile Pacific Crest Trail, Ann and I are spending the night on Donner Lake in the home of Bill Person, an Appalachian Trail friend who takes in hikers to repay some of the hospitality he received while hiking the AT. Bill picked us up at the rest area where the trail crosses Interstate 80.I could tell you more about Bill, but the fact that he has a climbing wall on one inward-slanted side of his two-story living room probably tells it all. The Northern Sierras, which received 180 percent of normal snowfall this year, have been tougher than we expected. We continue to lose the trail and experience semi-dangerous conditions traversing snowfields. As Ann says, on the Gulf Coast we’re more accustomed to sand on the beaches than snow in the mountains, but we’re getting better, and the snow will melt some day. Ann got scared from the guidebook descriptions of a possible lethal fall coming into Sonora Pass north of Yosemite National Park. She was tempted to take an alternate route which avoided the pass until Brian and Nate overtook us. Nate had taught us how to use an ice axe and was familiar with snow travel. He said we could follow in his footsteps to the pass. The next morning we got up early in order to be at the pass with Nate and Brian, both much faster hikers. All morning Ann kept looking back for them. She passed the turn-off to the alternate route but kept going toward the pass. The hike was spectacular as we moved above timberline. Finally we reached the snowfield approach to the pass. Nate and Brian were nowhere in sight, but a day-hiker with ice axe and crampons appeared, asking if he could hike down with us. Ann said, “Sure, if you will lead and kick steps for us.” The first part was easy, making us wonder what was the big deal. Then we reached the slope. It had to be 60 degrees. The day-hiker, who said he frequently climbed the pass in winter, started slowly, kicking steps. We followed even more slowly in his footsteps on the steepest slope we had yet encountered. Obviously becoming nervous, he stopped to put on his crampons, which give a solid grip on snow and ice. Since we had no crampons we became more nervous. Then I noticed that we were clear of the rocks and had a straight shot down the avalanche chute to a gentle slope at the bottom. I said to Ann, “I’m going straight down.” The day-hiker said he didn’t like to glissade because it was dangerous, but where we were seemed pretty dangerous to me. I took one step, fell on my behind, and was on my way. It was a wild ride, but then I was down. Ann followed in my tracks, stopping at exactly the same place. And just like that we were through with Sonora Pass. Kerrick Canyon Creek was not so easy. When we got to the ford we were greeted by a standing wave in the rapids suitable for surfing in you had a kayak. While I searched for a better place to cross, Ann prayed. Finally I found a place upstream where the swift waters ran deep with a back eddy on the other side. I rushed back to Ann. “I’ve got the answer. We’re going to swim it.” Since she had just prayed for an answer she couldn’t very well refuse. We put everything in our packs in a plastic garbage bag and emptied our water bottles for extra flotation. Sitting on a rock at the water’s edge we kicked hard into the current and pulled for the other side. Our packs, acting as life preservers, kept us afloat, and we slipped safely into the backwater. Perhaps someday we’ll be back to normal hiking. Meanwhile, this trail is one great adventure.