Polar Bear Club

I woke up to one of the greatest campsites I've ever seen. I was on a bluff at 10,400 feet overlooking the western range of the Sierras as the sun illuminated their tips and began to move down the slopes. I got up really early because I needed to get across Forester which was 10 miles away through really rough terrain and high altitude. I knew I was going to need all day wandering around, looking for the trail. I hoped to be able to get up Forester before it got too soft. I didn't want to spent the whole day post-holing and getting nowhere. I was out of camp by 6am and really anxious to get to town.I was only ten miles from Forester pass and only 18 miles to the side trail that would take me out of the Sierra.

After about 20 minutes I came up to Wright Creek. Normally in the mornings the creeks aren't as swollen and easier to cross, although much colder. At 6:20 in the morning Wright Creek was still raging. It's not good to have your feet wet for days at a time and mine were beginning to feel the effects of it so I really didn't want to get them wet first thing in the morning. I walked up the creek bank trying to find a fallen log or some way to cross without getting wet. The manzanita on the banks was coated with ice and I couldn't find any obvious place to cross. About 100 yards upstream I saw a spot that looked like I could jump to. A rock that was sticking up about a foot above the rushing stream. I would have to jump about 4 feet across a deep channel of 35 degree water. I'm not sure what I was thinking but I decided to go for it. With my poles in one hand, I made a jump for the rock, not knowing that it had an invisible coting of ice on it just like the bushes on the banks. When my foot hit the rock, it slipped right over it and I landed on the rock in a split. I tried to hold on to the rock but it was covered in ice and I was pulled over backwards by the extremely powerful current. I went from bad decision to a life threatening situation in the blink of an eye. The freezing water took my breath away as I was quickly swept downstream. I had to get out of the water but first I had to keep from smashing my head on a rock. I got my feet downstream and flipped over, trying desperately to get my foot or hand on something. Suddenly my leg got caught between two rocks and the current flipped me over it. I thought my shin was going to break as the current pulled on me. My leg was stuck and my back hit another rock. The current had me pinned down and I was facing upstream with the water rushing over the front of my body. I knew a had only minutes to get out of the 35 degree water. I threw my oles over the the bank and tried to get my leg unstuck and still keep from getting swept downstream again. My hands were frozen and I couldn't grab anything. My fingers were useless. I was probably yelling and I managed to thrash through and get to an overhanging bush which I grabbed onto and dragged myself onto the shore. I was safe. I had to keep moving though. I grabbed my poles and hustled up the bank and into the woods, trying to jump and run and flex all of my muscles. I got to the trail and dropped my pack. MY PHONE! AHHHH! it was in my chest pocket and I managed to get it out with my frozen fingers. I had to get the battery out! My fingers were worthless, forget the phone, I needed to get some gloves on. They were wet but at least it was something. My clothes were all dripping. I opened up my pack and at least everything was dry inside. I managed to get my phone apart. It was soaked. I didn't allow myself to think about the consequences of that. I needed to get warm. I tried to hike a while, thinking maybe the clothes would dry but in a few minutes I decided it would be a good idea to get out of those clothes. I pulled out anything dry and put it on while I hung up all of my clothes on a tree as the sun climbed in the sky. I was going to be alright; however, I was going to lose a lot of time.

I took that time to eat some food and get warmed up. My clothes took about an hour to dry and then I moved on. Losing the phone was a big deal though, it had all my maps in it. I now had zero navigational tools. I knew I could get out by going east but it really wasn't as simple as that. I still had to find and cross Forester Pass and Kearsarge Pass and I had no idea where they were and there was no real path to follow. I was hoping someone would come up behind me but from what I had seen, the closest person to me was at least a full day behind. I was going to have to keep going, blind.

I knew I had to cross another river and that the climb to Forester began after that so I just did my best to find old footsteps or marks that looked like footsteps. It was scary and much of the day I spent in despair but I managed to somehow find the trail occasionally.I came to Bighorn Plateau and there was no way whatsoever to tell where the trail went. I just guessed and got lucky. Eventually I found some tracks that hadn't been melted and I followed them all the way to Tyndall Creek. I wasted about two hours wandering around, trying to find the Ranger Station, hoping for a map or anything. There were bear boxes and I looked inside them for maps or anything that might help. The only thing I had was the section from Yogi's guidebook which gave a written explanation of the approach to Forester Pass but no maps. I got across the creek and laid out my phone, hoping the hot sun might dry it. It did help but there was a lot of moisture under the screen and I wasn't going to try to turn it on until it was totally dry. I had no idea what it looked like over Forester Pss but I was hoping that maybe I might see a fire or tents or something. I sat at the creek crossing and ate lunch, drying my feet and hoping that someone might come walking up.

Most people camp there and leave early in the morning while the snow is very hard. It was 1:30 in the afternoon when I decided to make a run for Forester Pass. The snow was soggy and the sun had been very bright for the last several days and the snow was soft. Figuring out where the trail went was an exercise in voodoo and the snow made it really difficult to traipse around looking for it. The altitude became a huge factor and once I figured out the general direction I was going, I stopped looking for the trail and just headed toward the huge wall of granite in front of me. Just about when I stopped looking for the trail, that's when I found the tracks that would get me up and over Forester Pass.

I found what seemed to be a large person's tracks and I stayed in them exactly; hoping to avoid post-holing every step for five miles. It took me about 4 hours to go 5 miles. The climb up Forester Pass was grueling. Between the altitude, the snow, the steep climb, the uncertainty and the sun, I was exhausted when I got over the pass. Fortunately, the trail was more obvious going down Forester into King's Canyon National Park.

It was about 6PM when I started down toward Vivette Creek, although I didn't know that's where I was going because I had no maps. I followed the tracks down and it looked like just about everyone took the shortcut and glissaded right down into the valley. The glissade should have saved a lot of time but the snow was soft and I couldn't really slide. I ended up having to kinda run, post-holing and crossing the wide open valley. At some point it occurred to me that I could put my phone in a bag of ramen to dry it out. Man, I wish I had thought of it earlier. I put the ramen and my phone in a ziplock and continued into the woods. The trail was impossible to find but I followed the river and saw a tent. It wasn't a thru-hiker tent but it was pitched on the only flat, dry ground I'd seen in days so I hailed them and one of them poked their head out of the tent and didn't mind me camping there. He thought I was a ranger. They were section hikers going SoBo. I figured I'd ask them if I could borrow their map from the section they just did. I was so relieved. I cooked some Idahoans and went to bed.

David AKA “Mister F. Gentle Spirit”
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