From PCT mile 853.6 to 865.4 Total: 13.7 miles 7/14
On my 22nd day on the PCT Sierra Section, I hiked to the now-missing South Fork San Joaquin River Bridge with my new partners, forded the rushing river safely, continued to Muir Trail Ranch to pick up my food resupply, then hiked uphill in the hot sun with a very heavy backpack to camp at the Sallie Keyes Lakes.
When I woke up that morning at first light, I knew right away that nothing had dried overnight. Yesterday’s thunderstorm had drenched the ground, and my shirt that was hanging inside the tent ended up wetter than it was when I went to bed! In fact, the entire inside wall of my tent was soaked with condensation. This was the first time this trip that it happened, so I guess I should be happy. But I knew I would be carrying a heavy soggy tent all day long.
I didn’t have time to dry it out anyway, as five of us had a plan to conquer the river ford together this morning, and we intended to leave by 7am. I had zero intention of being late to this party! So I whipped up my final batch of oatmeal, ate it, and started packing everything else like mad. That included putting on the cold, clammy T-shirt from inside the tent. Yuck.
I didn’t want to say this, but leaving at 7am was seriously late for me. I usually get going by first light, which in mid-July was around 5am or so. I was happy to sleep late for a change, and I was even happier that my backpack was so light. My bear canister was almost empty! It would be full again in a few hours. If I made it across the raging river alive, that is. Heh. I just thought of this, months later: I could have used the empty bear can as a Flotation Device! Too late now.
I yakked with Metal Tim and Little Engine as they finalized their packing. Tim said that he spent most of the night listening to the river, which was right next to their tent, as it roared by in the darkness. He didn’t sleep very well, due to worry. He knew that this section of river joined in with an equal-sized Evolution Creek further downstream, but also, unfortunately, above our planned crossing location. He spent far too much time in the dark, imagining this combined, more terrible-than-ever behemoth sweeping he and his wife away to their doom.
Was I worried? Well, maybe a little. I’m not much of a worrier. Everyone we met heading southbound said that they crossed it OK, so I knew that I would, too. Provided that we crossed at the correct spot. That was the real danger, as there were plenty of places that were impossible, and only one that was relatively safe. It was supposed to be 0.4 miles below the missing bridge, and our Far Out app would tell us when we were close. We also heard many descriptions of the spot. I felt pretty good about it, personally. But you can’t convince a worrier otherwise. What about all the hikers we never met? The ones that failed the crossing? The ones that died? That right there is a rabbit hole of worrying that you really don’t want to go down.
Soon, Greg and Tory arrived in camp, and we all set out. We had a couple of miles of easy hiking to do before the Danger Zone. Just a warm-up exercise. So we crossed the first easy bridge near camp and continued downhill along the riverside trail.
I realized that I only had one hiking stick, and the “Best Practices” for river crossings held that you needed two sticks, in order to utilize the “Three Points of Stability” rule. You had four points including your feet, but only one was allowed to move at a time. It was slower, but that way you would be less likely to topple over in the swift current. So as we hiked I searched for a suitable tree branch to provide a temporary hiking stick. I found one sticking out of a fallen pine. It was dead, so it broke cleanly, but still had enough spring and strength to do the job. Or so I hoped.
Within an hour, we arrived at the site of the missing bridge. The park trail crews took down the damaged bridge last year, in 2023, after it got severely bent by an avalanche. They didn’t have time to put in a replacement, so all they could do was warn everybody to avoid the area, by hiking over Bishop Pass in the south and returning to the trail via Piute Pass in the north. All five of us decided that missing out on Muir Pass and Evolution Valley was unacceptable, and so here we were.
I hiked this section of PCT back in 2021, and crossed the original bridge, so it was interesting to see how the steel I-beams were bent. The crews conveniently left all the metal stacked up on this side of the river, ripe for inspection. It must’ve been a heck of an avalanche, to bend such thick steel. But most of them are. Good thing no one was there at the time.
Now it was time to hike cross-country, another 0.4 miles downstream to the impromptu ford. The Far Out app mentioned several spots where people crossed, but they were all considered to be inferior to (i.e. scarier than) the 0.4 mile ford. None of us really knew what to look for when identifying the location, as everyone we met came over from the other side. Totally different perspectives. But we had faith in ourselves. We were going to succeed, or die trying. Literally.
Having determined that this was the best spot, we climbed down a steep slope of talus toward the bank of the river. We set down our backpacks and started putting on our water shoes. Metal Tim was the first one to get ready. He put on his pack and started crossing, facing upstream as per the Best Practices. He never even announced it, just waded right in, which took me by surprise. How was I supposed to get a video of this momentous event without forewarning? Insane, I know. He’s a “git ‘er done” kind of guy, I guess. At least I got a partial video. And Tim did great. He utterly conquered all the worries of last night. In fact, he dropped his pack on the far side and waded back to accompany the rest of us across! Metal Tim: Our Hero and Fearless Leader!
Unfortunately for me, my devotion to videography and photography was almost my undoing. I had completely stopped removing my own hiking boots! I hustled to get ready as Little Engine made her way across. I unzipped the calf portion of my cargo pants, stuffed them in the dry sack along with my shoes, clipped it onto my pack, and put it on. I grabbed my heavy wooden stick and clambered down the talus to meet up with Tim. Just in time! I got out my GoPro and turned it on, holding both it and a stick in one hand. If I went head over heels downriver then it was going to be recorded for posterity.
As for the crossing itself, well, it was a bit underwhelming after all the hype we’d been hearing. Oh, the current was plenty strong, especially right in the beginning where the main flow blasted through the deepest region (this was the outside bend of the curving river), but I have good balance and I was ready for the pressure against my legs. The rocky riverbottom was the trickiest part. You had to look down through the deceptively wavy water to see where the bigger rocks were, so you could plan your path. And my thick wooden stick was surprisingly responsive to the current. In other words, it kept trying to swoop downstream when I picked it up to shift it to the next position. Aggravating but true. Just the same, I got it under control, and before long the deepest, fastest part of the crossing was behind me. It got a lot easier after that, and all too soon I was on the distant shore. As I looked back, I realized that it had been kind of fun. No wonder Tim kept doing it!
However, the important part was that all five of us made it across without falling, getting injured, or soaking all of our gear. That’s a success in anyone’s book. And Tim’s worries were over!
I climbed up the slope on the far shore and found a flat area on a granite promontory looking down onto the deep pool upstream of the crossing. Then I put down my pack and got out my shoes and pantlegs. Soon, I was ready to continue hiking. I said thanks to Tim, and “so long” to everyone else, and continued down the trail. I needed to get to Muir Trail Ranch for my resupply, and Tim and the Engine weren’t going there. They intended to resupply at VVR tomorrow rather than at MTR. Vermilion Valley Ranch had better food and they wanted to take a Proper Zero Day rather than a quick Hero Day like I was planning. (A Hero is when you get a resupply while still hiking a full day’s worth of miles.) Greg and Tory were also going to VVR. So it looked like I was on my own again. Oh well. Hiking with Tim had been a lot of fun.
The next section of trail was easy hiking along the river, downstream so it was also downhill, and the miles flew by under my feet. Vicki and I hiked the section of trail just north of here, near Piute Creek, in the opposite direction back in July 2022, and being here reminded me of her. It was good to hike with a partner, as I was rediscovering now that I was a Solo Hiker once again. Sigh. I decided to let the beauty of the High Sierra console me, and the sound of the rushing river assauge my mind. Onward!
It was time to exit Kings Canyon National Park at the Piute Creek crossing. Next stop: The John Muir Wilderness (which I hiked in a week ago when resupplying at Onion Valley) in the Sierra National Forest. All I had to do was cross a lovely metal footbridge, which I videoed, as usual. This was the third time I’d been here. The first time it was a super hot afternoon, and thru-hikers were cooling off by butt-sliding down the smooth granite under the bridge. But not today!
The next two miles consisted of additional easy hiking, downhill through the South Fork San Joaquin River valley. The trail left the river and stayed up above it, in a pleasant pine forest. It was a joy to hike that day, as there were plenty of clouds, not only for cooling shade but also for photographic purposes.
I arrived at the side trail to MTR well before noon. Last time, Vicki and I remained on the main PCT, so this was new territory for me. As expected, the trail paralleled the South Fork, and the hiking was easy. The main trail immediately began climbing out of the valley, so this was much nicer. Of course, I would pay for this additional downhill hiking later on, after I resupplied, but there was no helping that. Not if I wanted to eat, that is.
The MTR resupply storage and distribution cabin was off to the side of the main ranch, which had cabins and other amenities for guests. Hikers were directed to this area, which was also near the free campground and the hot spring. I had no intention of doing anything other than collect my food bucket and reload my bear canister. The six days of food would be enough to get me back to my car in Tuolumne Meadows, provided that I hiked further today. There were a dozen or so hikers hanging out under awnings, going through their food supplies on tables. Everyone was very friendly. The store also sold fuel for stoves (which you aren’t allowed to mail) so I bought one just in case. I had a feeling that my current one had enough to last me, but did I really want to chance eating cold oatmeal or ramen noodles? No. I left my old one in a Hiker Box. There was a lot of food there, free for the taking, but you never knew what you’d get. I stuck with my own. I also cheated a bit and sent myself a can of soda (also not allowed in the mail) which I happily drank right there, on the spot. Ahhh! Good stuff. I figured that if it leaked it would remain contained in the heavy-duty sealed bucket, so the sticky mess would be my problem, not somebody else’s. I loaded my bear can with food and put it into my backpack. Then I left my trash at MTR, which is part of the service I paid for with the bucket transport. They take the buckets by boat across Florence Lake and on horseback to the ranch. Totally worth it! I only wish that their National Forest Service Concession allowed them to sell food to hikers. I would have loved a hamburger, or some pizza.
Just as I was ready to leave, one of the MTR employees came by with some breakfast burritos and sausages! They were extras, after the ranch guests had eaten their fill. Score! I chowed that burrito down immediately, intending to eat the sausages for lunch on the trail. That’s when Greg and Tory arrived. I was surprised to see them, but apparently they were resupplying here and also staying at VVR tomorrow night. I decided to give them the sausages since they missed the burritos. They were happy.
After that, it was time for the big uphill hike of the day. I was dreading it, as I remembered the exposed-to-the-afternoon-sun switchbacks up above here. But there was no helping it, and I knew what would happen when I planned this day. So on I hiked. And my pack weighed a ton, which I also planned for and expected. This happens on the PCT, and all a hiker can do is bear it and move forward.
The next 700 feet of climbing was on the steepest bit of trail I’d seen in the Sierra thus far. It didn’t even bother to make switchbacks; it simply brute-forced its way directly up the canyonside. Horrible but true. At least it was mostly under trees, and there were clouds for shade, but I can tell you truthfully that I sweated my way up that beast of a trail.
When I arrived on the Pacific Crest Trail, I was pleased to discover that Metal Tim and Little Engine had also arrived at the trail junction! It looked like I wasn’t quite a solo hiker after all. We continued onward, not quite hiking together, as people with different paces tend to do. We all decided to camp near the Sallie Keyes Lakes, and we’d worry about meeting up again when we reached them. It turned out that they both hiked faster than me, but they also stopped more often to drink water, so that I would catch up again. I had a drinking hose handy, so I didn’t have to stop. It was reminiscent of the tortoise and the hare story, except that I would prefer not to be likened to a tortoise.
Soon enough, we entered the exposed section, which consisted of long uphill switchbacks on a manzanita-covered, southwest-facing hillside. Luckily for us, clouds drifted by and blocked the sun more than half the time, and we survived the climb without issue. As I discovered later on, Greg and Tory endured the entire climb in the blazing sun. By that time, the three of us were already in the forested section up above the slope. It’s good to be lucky.
Soon, the trail crested the canyon wall, and went past Senger Creek, where Vicki and I camped. I remember that there had been a plague of small, non-biting flies everywhere for some reason. They loved Vicki’s trout dinner, and didn’t care about DEET repellent. The only place to avoid them was inside the tent. Not exactly what you’d call fond memories.
Luckily for us, there were no flies this time, although there were a few mosquitos next to the creek. I hiked on and avoided them. After that, the trail really flattened out for a few miles. It was a region of meadows and grassy forest. With wildflowers! Very pleasant. And the hiking was easy.
We arrived at the two Sallie Keyes Lakes at about 4pm, which gave us plenty of time to set up camp. Finding a campsite was the issue. There was a good one in the forest near the lower lake, but it looked like it might have tons of mosquitos, and it lacked a view, which was a deal-breaker for Tim. We continued hiking along the shore, crossed the short creek between the lakes, and discovered several fine spots with views, high above the upper lake. This looked perfect!
However, in that short span of time, some extremely dark clouds moved in, or formed, or detonated, just north of us near Selden Pass. There was a whole lot of thunder booming up there, but no rain here. Just the same, Little Engine didn’t like taking risks with lightning, so the two of them found a spot a short ways down the hill near the inlet creek. Tim was nice enough to string up his clothesline to let me dry my tent. Theirs was dry already; taking time to dry it was probably why I met them so conveniently on the trail after I took an extra half hour at MTR. So I got out my tent and hung it up. Naturally, that is precisely when the wind suddenly picked up and it started to rain. I just love drying out my gear in the rain. Don’t you?
I hunkered down behind some pines near my wildly flapping tent, while wearing my goretex hard shell to keep off the wind and the minor drizzle. I think the wind was gaining on the drizzle, as my tent soon appeared noticeably drier. And then, as suddenly as it started, the clouds broke up and the sun came out.
I still didn’t trust the weather, so I spent a bit of time fly fishing with my Tenkara Rod. Tim had pointed out all the trout slowly maintaining their positions in the current in the nearby creek. Some of them were pretty big! Certainly worth cooking. Last time I was here with Vicki she ate one of the Sallie Keyes Goldens. My Sierra Trout Fishing Guide researches on the internet informed me that they were originally planted here back in 1914! Over a hundred years of Golden Trout, and they were amazingly happy and prolific. I hardly need to say that it didn’t take me long to catch one with a barbless fly. I brought it on shore for a photo, then let it go unharmed.
As I was setting up my now-dry tent, Greg and Tory arrived. They found a spot not far away from us. It looked like the River-Fording Dream Team was back in business. At least until tomorrow. They would head for VVR, but I would be continuing north on the PCT. Oh well. It was nice to get to know them all while the time lasted. Such is Life On The Trail.
As soon as the tent was ready, with all my gear in place, another rainstorm arrived. This one also boomed a bit, but mostly just sprinkled lightly on the tent down here. Selden Pass seemed to get it the worst, yet again.
I ate my dinner with an awesome view over the lake. As sunset neared, the wind grew calm, the clouds melted away, and the lake became a mirror. Except for the rings of wavelets from hundreds of trout rising to their evening feast. All of us ate dinner, in other words. Even the one I caught. If Vicki was here, that fish would have been the dinner.
We all hung out for a while in camp and talked about the day. Once again, Tim was hailed as the Hero of the Ford, and we all agreed that seeing Evolution Valley was totally worth the hassle of crossing the river. My partners were all looking forward to a nice hot shower, and freshly washed clothing, at VVR tomorrow. I admit that I was jealous, but I really couldn’t take that detour due to calendar issues. I absolutely had to make it home for my 40th wedding anniversary, or I was doomed. Being a solo hiker for a few weeks was one thing, but being solo forever was a bad idea indeed. The two ladies fully endorsed my decision, so I knew that I was correct.
After that, we headed to our tents. The air was cooling and we all had miles of trail to hike tomorrow. I didn’t set my alarm, but I knew that I would be waking up in the dark, as always. And then I fell asleep.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Pages: Section H1 and Section H2
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