I was hoping the diarrhea had passed but I didn't think it had. I was too psyched out to sleep in. I just hoped that it was from something I ate and not Giardia or some other problem. It took a while for Bandit and Sprinkles to get up. I couldn't sleep and it looked like this river was going to be tough to cross. Fortunately Sprinkles found a big tree to cross about 200 yards upstream.
After we packed up camp, we crossed on the big log and headed up toward Crabtree Meadows. When we got there there was a large creek with lots of golden trout hanging out along the banks. Of course the fellas wanted to catch some fish and they were going to camp there and get up early the next morning to go up Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the continental US at 14,505 ft. I climbed it last year so I wasn't planning on climbing it again; besides, I needed to get out a couple days early so I could call my musicians and arrange for the gigs I had the next weekend. I reluctantly got my stuff together and headed out. I didn't realize the trail was on this side of the stream so I crossed it two more times before I got out of there. I was trying for the campsite at Wallace Creek which was about four miles away. I didn't realize that it was the beginning of a harrowing three day journey.
The trail to Wallace creek was completely obscured by snow and no map was going to help me get there; although my maps were on my phone and I was trying to save batteries so I rarely consulted them. I had no compass, no GPS and my maps were PDF Files on a phone. I had just started to simmer a recipe for disaster.
I have no idea how I even found Wallace creek. Three times I had to backtrack and restart to find the trail since the footsteps in the snow were completely lost in the sun cups. Sometimes you could find the trail by old notches on the trees from the John Muir Trail (JMT); however, the JMT often strays from the PCT and you could get yourself even more lost.. Finding the campsite at the river crossing was going to be nearly impossible. Eventually I found Wallace Creek but it was late in the day, the sun had dropped on the other side of the mountains and everything was covered with five feet of snow. The creek was deep and torrential. I couldn't find the crossing and so I weaved upstream through manzanita and snowdrifts to try and find a fallen log or rock formation to jump across. It was hard work and slow going as each step was a logistical puzzle. It became apparent that I was going to have to make a decision soon to actually go across the creek or camp in the snow and wait until morning. I tried to cross several places but it was very dangerous. Time was running out, I thought I found a good spot where the river had split in three smaller but still treacherous streams. I fought through thick bushes and snow just to get to the creek edge. The water was shockingly frigid and soon it was creeping up to the bottom of my kilt. I had left the snow baskets on my trekking poles and the strong current tried to pull the poles from my hands as I sought for good holds in the fast moving water. I tried to get across but soon found myself with a deep channel of impassable water in front of me. Backing up was looking even worse. I couldn't let anxiety turn to panic I couldn't go down. I was in big trouble and there was no one who would be missing me for days. I had to stay upright. I had to get across. I wasn't going to let this river get me. Out loud I yelled at the river, "This is not how I die! This is bullshit! C'mon, let's go" I was trying to psyche myself up. I spotted a possible route and managed to get across the deep channel without losing my footing. I don't actually remember how but I finally got across, wet and cold and lost. I had no idea where the trail crossed the creek. The sun was gone and dusk was making it impossible to find the trail. I might actually cross the trail and never know it as I wandered around the snow-covered banks, searching. I pulled up the maps from my phone and made a guess as to my position based upon a recognizable mountain bowl to the south. I methodically traversed along the river until I actually found the trail and the campsite. I was very relieved; but, what areas weren't covered in snow were soggy and not what I was looking for. I decided to hike for as long in the dark as I could and was rewarded with an amazing campsite about a half mile up the trail overlooking just about everything... I was too tired to eat or to make food. I put up my tent, put my bear cannister a couple of yards away and crawled into my sleeping bag.
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