Day 43: North to Donner Pass

From PCT mile 1139.0 to 1157.8 Total: 19.4 miles 8/19

It was my 43rd and Final Day hiking the PCT Sierra Section, so I woke up early, hiked uphill in the dark to the Squaw Valley Ski Area, continued north to climb the ridge next to Tinkers Knob, and followed that windy ridge for eight long miles to Mount Lincoln and the Sugar Bowl Ski Area, then descended to Donner Summit on Highway 40, and hiked an additional three miles to the trailhead at Interstate 80, in order to return to my car at Donner Pass.

My alarm was set for 4am, as usual, but I woke up at 3am anyway, wide awake and excited to get this final day over with.  I was sick of being a Solo PCT Hiker, and wanted to get home to San Diego to see my wife and family.  But the only way to do it was to hike almost twenty miles today.  There were two large climbs of roughly 1200 feet each, and numerous smaller ones along the way.  The PCT tends to do that.  Constantly.  According to the Far Out app, I had to ascend and descend about 3900 feet total.  In other words, my car was at the same elevation as this campsite, but I had to do a whole lot of work to get there.

I didn’t bother cooking oatmeal.  I ate a spare Pop-Tart instead.  I had an extra day of food thanks to hiking two 19 mile days in a row rather than 15, 15, and 8.  I was a bona fide Hiking Machine now, where neither mileage nor elevation change made any difference, only time mattered.  My legs were like metronomes, monotonous in their steady pace.  It was sad, in a way, because now that I finally became a machine, my hike was finished.

So I packed up everything hurriedly under the bright light of my headlamp.  I still had plenty of water, and I thought I could make it to the car without filtering any more.  There wasn’t much more to filter, as this was a dry stretch of trail.  Hiking in the cool of the morning would help keep my sweat losses down.  I would make it.

And with that, I slung my nearly foodless backpack over my shoulders and started up the first big climb of the day.  The Full Moon was shining, but it was also setting, so there was light in the forest, but also deep shadows.  I kept the headlamp shining on medium power, not the one-candlepower mode I used when reading at night.  High power on this headlamp was insane, and the battery would only last twenty minutes.  I only use that mode when I need to light up the entire forest for a photo.  Really!

All told, I had about two and a half miles to climb on this first big run, up the Whisky Creek Canyon.  Somewhere near the top I would arrive at a ski area and the end of the Granite Chief Wilderness.  I hiked and hiked, for over an hour, and only took a few photos.  But it was mostly a forest walk, so I don’t think I missed many views.

It was First Light when I reached the top.  The faintest of color could be detected far to the east above Lake Tahoe, and there was a ski lift directly in front of me.  The PCT went directly underneath it.  This was part of the Squaw Valley ski area, which is now called Alpine Meadows, because the word “squaw” is considered derogatory.  I’m not sure why, as it never sounded that way in all the books I’ve read about the old days in the Wild West, but apparently it was used as an insult in small towns near Indian Reservations in the recent past.  The mountain at the top of the ski lift is called Granite Chief and its associated valley was named Squaw.  Makes sense, really.  But sense is no longer in vogue.  Rather than cancel the word, maybe those ignorant louts who misused the word, ruining it for the rest of us, should be cancelled instead.  Just saying.  We all know who they are.

After the ski lift, the trail began descending in fits and starts, and ended up losing nearly all the elevation I gained in the dark.  This was expected.  It was following the northeast ridge of Granite Chief.  As I hiked, the sun finally topped the far eastern rim of the Lake Tahoe Basin.  It felt good to get a bit of sunshine, as it was still cool, and there was a steady breeze which was making sure that I felt it, right through my clothes.  First light and alpenglow are always beautiful, and I was truly enjoying myself.

The trail continued north on a narrow ridgeline with Chief Creek on the left (draining into the North Fork American River) and Mountain Meadow Lake on the right.  Then it dropped via switchbacks to the next low point of the day, and crossed the now-bone-dry creek draining from the lake.  I stopped for a short break here and prepared for the next phase.

I then had 1200 feet to climb in the next two and a half miles.  This was the second (and final) big climb of the day.  There would be smaller ones later, I had no doubt.  But for now, the main goal was to reach to side trail to Tinker Knob.  I could see it up above me.  Luckily for me it was morning, and the sun was still behind the tall ridge to the east.  Most of the hillside was exposed and dry, covered with Woolly Mules Ear plants.  They are everywhere up here in the northern Sierra.  They were probably amazing when blooming earlier in the Spring, but not now.  Along the way I crossed a flowing creek!  This was the last water until after Donner Summit.  I double-checked my supply and discovered that I barely drank anything today.  I sucked some down, because I tend to run dry, as in mildly dehydrated, all the time.  But I didn’t stop to filter any.  And then I kept on climbing.  And climbing.  The sun struck me when I was almost at the top.  Perfect timing, as the wind was blowing strong and the sun felt good.  I even stopped to put on my goretex jacket and wore the hood to block the wind!

What with all the wind, I decided not to bother climbing Tinker Knob once I reached the side trail.  Other hikers on the Far Out app recommended it, calling it a “Side Quest” as if this was all some open-world, multiplayer video game.  I laughed.  Maybe it was a game, after all.  But this was one side quest I would forego.  My Main Quest was calling, and it was almost finished!  My car was like a beacon in the distance, beckoning me onward.

I had about a hundred feet left to climb in order to summit the ridge.  This ridge was over ten miles long, and the PCT would be following it for at least the next eight miles.  It was the Sierra Crest itself, or the Pacific Crest if you prefer the term.  And I lucked out by hiking it on a breezy day.  If you could call it luck.  It wouldn’t surprise me if it was always breezy here, judging by the bent and twisted pines that looked permanently blasted.  I looked ahead, and I noticed the snaking lines of the I-80 freeway in the distance.  My car was over there!  This gave me extra impetus, so I imagined that I was sailing, tacking into the wind and tightening my jib sheets, heeling over during the gusts.  The breeze was out of the west, so it didn’t stop me, but it didn’t help me, either.  It would have been better to be an actual sailboat, to tell the truth.  All it did was try to knock me off the top of the ridge.

At mile 1148, I arrived at one of the few campsites that Far Out showed on this ridge.  This was the spot where I originally intended to camp tonight!  I was glad I opted for the 19-19 mile two-day plan.  Sure, the low pines blocked most of the wind, the flowers were pretty, and the views were amazing, but it was almost directly on the trail.  Not that there were many hikers, but it didn’t really follow the 100-feet-from-the-trail rule.  Just the same, I was tired of the wind, and as this was near the halfway point of today’s hike, I happily sat down and took an early lunch break.  I ate another Pop-Tart and read my Kindle in the sun.  I took off my boots and dried my socks.  I decided that it was a fine spot after all.  But not for camping.

It was time to continue along the ridge.  Most of the eight miles was downhill, but in reality, the trail went up a little and down a little more, over and over again.  The next phase of the operation was to traverse around Anderson Peak, an obviously volcanic knob along the ridge.  The trailbed changed, from a smooth dirt track to a loose, rocky mess.  I hated this kind of footing.  But I didn’t have much choice.  The designers also placed the trail on the western, windward side of the peak, so of course it was as windy as it could possibly be.  I suffered my way forward, but stopped to take photos as the views were pretty darned fine.

It was only a mile or so later when the trail swung around, into the lee of Anderson Peak.  I decided that I wanted another break, one without wind, and this was the only spot without wind for miles.  The lunch spot earlier was nice, but it wasn’t warm enough.  This was perfect.  Too bad I couldn’t stay all that long.  With eight miles left to go, there would be about four more hours of hiking for me.  I had to get it done somehow.

Mount Lincoln was the next main destination.  I could see buildings on top, and I knew that they must be ski lifts.  This was the Tahoe area, after all.  The land of year-round outdoor fun.  It would be another hour before I got there, so away I hiked, checking out the awesome views that were everywhere from up here.  If it weren’t for the wind and the annoying rocky trail this part of the PCT would have been a favorite.

I approached the mountain and toiled up the smooth but steep trail.  I was happy that the PCT did its usual move, by traversing around just below the summit.  This left more Side Quests for other hikers to do.  I wouldn’t want them to get bored with the Main Quest, after all.

I arrived at the top of the climb and new vistas appeared.  This was what made climbing over a ridge so much fun.  New views!  On this, the northern side of Mount Lincoln, the trail travelled through the Sugar Bowl Ski Area.  There were tall signs showing different routes for skiers to take down to the lodge from the high lift.  But at least the PCT avoided the dirt roads that the resort uses.  It was its own trail up here.  I started the next big descent, and there were day-hikers in evidence.  Plus, informative displays about the trail.  One spot was called Roller Pass, where the pioneer emigrants used cables, pulleys, and roller wheels to get their wagons up the steep slope to the east.  And everyone has heard about the tragedy of the Donner Party, who were stuck in Winter snows down the hill to the east of Donner Pass, near Donner Lake.

Off to the west was Summit Valley, and I heard the horns of freight trains as they approached Donner Summit.  There was a lot of railroad history in this area.  I continued down the slope toward Donner Summit.  The ground reverted to the underlying granite, and it felt like the Sierra again.  Including the big steps that often go hand in hand with granite trails.  Down and down I went.

I arrived at the trailhead parking lot and wandered up a paved road to Highway 40, the old road over Donner Pass.  This was where the railroad went through a famous tunnel, and there were snow sheds built over the tracks to protect the trains from avalanches.  The train no longer uses that tunnel, as the new one was bored far below us through the granite many years ago.  There was a museum, but I didn’t have time, so I merely read the informative displays.  OK, I lied.  I took quick photos of the displays and hiked on.  I wanted to get finished!  I saved reading them for when I got home.

So I crossed the rustic highway, which was mostly tourist cars these days (unlike the too-busy freeway).  I climbed up on the far side and began the final three miles of my hiking day.

There were great views to the east.  Donner Lake was in the distance, and the highway was winding and scenic as it led down to it.  Across the way to the south was Donner Peak, which had a long concrete avalanche tunnel along its side.

This was also the final small climb of the day.  Just a few hundred feet.  But this time the breeze was gone, and it was hot.  I sweated my way up the exposed switchbacks.  There were other hikers and backpackers here, so we all stopped to take breaks and yak about the trail.  It’s always that way with backpackers.  We’re a friendly bunch, and curious about what’s coming next.

I continued onward, and the trail went up and down a few more times.  It was a granite area, and granite does that after glaciers have done their best to cause trouble, as only glaciers know how to do.  But at least my sweating was at an end, as was the breeze.  This was the final piece of the PCT Sierra Section, and it was still beautiful.  That much hadn’t changed.

I’m not going to lie by saying that the sign for the side trail to the trailhead parking lot surprised me.  It didn’t.  I was checking the Far Out app every few minutes to see how much further I had to go.  Yes, I was getting anxious.  Nineteen point four miles in a day is nothing to sneeze at, and my feet were getting tired.  They were happy to walk the final easy stretch of smooth trail to the parking lot.  All told, I hiked for about eleven hours that day, which is a solid day’s work in anyone’s book.  And my feet knew it.

My car was still there where I left it, sitting in the shade of some tall pine trees.  Hooray!  I put down my backpack, unlocked the car, and opened the rear hatch.  It was time to get out my travelling clothes!  Nobody was around, so I got undressed with the side door open.  I emptied my pockets and transferred everything to the  clean clothing.  Yes, I was still filthy, and I stank, and my beard was overgrown, but at least I stank a little less, and I looked superficially clean.  When I arrived in town the populace wouldn’t run away in terror.  Provided I stayed downwind.

A short while later I was driving around in downtown Truckee.  I scoped out a few places to visit while sitting at the trailhead, and entered them all into Google Maps.  I had a plan.  First, I got a foot-long hero sandwich from Subway, plus a soda and chips, then drove over to Dairy Queen and got a burger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake.  Oh, yeah!  I was happy to be in civilization now.  Then I drove to the motel and checked in.  I brought in my gear and my food, most of which went into the mini-fridge.  I would eat the sub and chips later, but I sat down and ate the burger and fries right away, while they were still hot.

After that, my tummy satisfied, I stripped and entered the shower.  It took a long time with the razor to knock down my seventeen-day beard, but eventually it was satisfactory.  And I didn’t mind luxuriating in the hot water of the shower.  I had to scrub everything, multiple times, as there was dust and dirt impregnated everywhere.  Don’t ask.

After that, I took a short drive and made sure the gas tank was full.  I forgot about that in my haste to get food.  I also called Vicki, and we yakked for a while.  I would be sleeping in my own bed tomorrow night, after a very long day of driving.  But that was tomorrow’s problem.  Then I lay down on the bed and read my Kindle in peace.  I set my alarm for 3am, and fell asleep before sunset, which made sense considering when I woke up.  And then I went to sleep, a satisfied PCT Hiker, with the Sierra Section as my latest accomplishment.

 

For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page

For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page

 

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