After that amazing sunset I fell asleep really fast, but it feels like I didn’t sleep at all. I’m not tired, in fact I feel great. But it’s one of those nights I feel like I fell asleep and woke up in 1 minute later. Like the night before a big game. I flick on my headlamp and go pee (in a bottle so I don’t have to put shoes on)… After, I tuck back into my sleeping bag and start packing up my stuff. It’s actually the perfect temperature out. I just wanted another minute to snuggle before changing clothes.
Okay enough is enough, time to get up. First I tape up my toe, I’m still nursing that blister and with wet feet forecasted for the next four days it’s going to be a challenge. My dad would say, his dad would say “you gotta keep your feet dry, wipe and dry between your toes.” Him and Lt Dan. That guy spent years in the Philippines during WWII. I imagine those guys had no idea what dry feet were back then. I’ve seen the Pacific. You could have endless sock and not be dry. Oooof no complaints here sir.
Next I change back into my hiking clothes from yesterday. Smartwool shin high socks, one injini liner on the right foot, OD green short shorts, and my pink uv sun shirt, all still nice and wet from the snow and sweat yesterday. I grab my shoes, even better, not only cold. But cold and wet. It reminds me of high school AM hockey practices. Except I actually smell less now and no gloves. Let’s go!
It’s 4:30 AM and the three of us are awake and ready now. Someone’s alarm went off at 4:15AM. It wasn’t me, I don’t need an alarm clock. I take a moment to enjoy the view of Palm Springs with Wolf and wait for Seven to dig himself a cat hole and do his business. I decide to wait, I have a rule no catholes 1/4 mile from camp.
We get moving in the dark, three headlamps guiding the way up trail. Seven on point, Wolf in the middle me running tail end Charlie. It’s a day of almost all uphill again, the only downhill is the PUDS. Pointless ups and downs, and there a lot of them. After the first mile Seven yells back to spike up.
It’s time to readjust my gear, even out the weight of my pack, tighten up my straps and throw on the microspikes and get out the ice axe. Time to focus. Oop but before the spikes go on time for me to dig a cat hole, I almost waited too long.
We chose to leave this early in the morning so the snow would still be frozen. By mid day it’ll be a slushy mess and more difficult to navigate. Microspikes IMO are almost worthless on slush. Sure my footings good but the entire layer of snow under it is not. For that reason I’ll always take a nice ice layer to dig spikes into versus variable snow and question sub surface.
As we approach Apache Peak and start crossing the snowy ridge line Wolf yells out “I don’t like this.” Seven “me either!”
It’s the first I’ve heard or seen Wolf and Seven scared. It’s reasonable, understandable and completely normal. A couple people have died at this very spot. And now that I’m facing it, I can 100% see why. In 2020 a hiker shipped his ice axe and micro spikes to the town just after this section. He tried to summit and cross with two trail buddies when he slipped. He fell 600+ feet to his death.
His parents now partner with a foundation and Nomad Adventures for microspikes and ice axes for PCT nobos and if you’re hard up for cash they even offer a discount. Nomad Adventures is where we got good intel about what, where and when to go through. The Laher’s don’t want any other parents to feel what they did or go through what they had to again. There’s zero reason to go up without the proper gear. We took a Nero day in Idylwild to wait for UPS to deliver our gear. Annoying meeh but safety in the backcountry always always takes precedent.
Go check out the Trevor Spikes Program:
I look at Wolf with a confident face and a big smile and say “Hey Wolf you got this, easy peazy. Just don’t look down.” I don’t know if they did look or not. I did, and fuck every bit of that look if you don’t like heights. I honestly spent a lot of time looking down. The view was absolutely amazing, sunrise felt like forever and I have no problem with heights. I was once an iron worker, dangling off buildings in the wind.
As far as how I feel mountaineering like this? I feel comfortable in the snow, maybe it’s the near decade I lived in New Hampshire chasing summits with my buddy Andy. I personally always thought he was a beast on trail, I could never keep up with him. Now I’m glad I tagged along, he subliminally schooled me up and got me some good experience.
Between him dragging me out, hiking Mt Washington, the NH48, the amount of time I spent skinning back country ski runs. I also can’t forget my work friends taking me deer hunting after snowstorms and teaching me to track game. I use to thrive in the snow I just never “loved” or hated it. Just not my cup of tea. But that’s also why I’m out here, to get out of my comfort zone. I also need to learn to love it I guess, because for 39+ days I’ll be in the Sierras and there will be a lot more of this type of thrill.
Anyways as we navigate over what feels like 5 miles of ridge line it was only really 2 so far of that terrain according to my Garmin. Damn we all say out loud there is no way we’d be out here without spikes and an ice axe. Even with those it’s still sketchy, one wrong move and yikes. I don’t think I could self arrest on this snow and this angle.
I expect the trail to be like this for a while, knowing weather, and the diurnal angles of the sun for this time of year I expect we will be in the shady side all morning then slushy side in the afternoon. When we poke around the other side briefly the snow is gone. Never buy a north facing house in Colorado they say.
In the distance I see SAR helicopters. I’m hoping they’re doing training or just flying the area for the fun today. In bad weather I cant see how they would be able to get up here.
After a quick cliff side break it’s a few more miles of the same. This time I’m running point, at the last peak I didn’t feel 100%. Dehydrated from having no water left, waiting for my snowbag slung over my shoulder to melt and just burned out from the first few miles I tell Seven let me get up front. In my head, I want to set the pace if I’m hurting, I don’t want to rush to catch up. I fear rushing at the end of a day to catch up to my group is how you make mistakes. And mistakes in this section are fatal.
Slow is smooth, smooth is fast I remind myself.
Finally we find a break in the snow, we hit a beautiful camping section and sit down for lunch. That spot had some of the biggest pine cones I’ve ever seen. I tossed a few like footballs to keep my mind busy as my lunch heated. In my head I know my buddy Pat would fumble that pine cone. Kid has cymbals for hands.
Second benefit of the hot lunch was thinking I would use the heat to melt the snow for water. It didn’t work. Looking at my food bag, I don’t think I brought enough for how many calories I’m burning. After finishing my hot lunch and housing a bag of gummy worms it’s game on to the next six hours of snow.
Overall, today doesn’t seem like the other days to me. We covered roughly twelve miles over 14 hours but it was brutally slow. Every step was lifting your leg knee high. I postholed all day and with post holing cut up my legs even more than they already were. Someone joked must have item is now mini soccer shin guards.
As I take off my bag it’s what I imagine is like taking off a bra at the end of a long day. I prepare to camp in the snow tonight, something I’m semi afraid of. My tent, my sleeping pad and my quilt are not rated for “snow” season, but I remember Blueprint giving me four hand warmers in Idyllwild and me saying if I don’t need them I’ll give them back when we see ya again in Banning… Chances are he’s getting Venmoed a huge thank you and not physically getting them back.
We arrive at a trail junction, I don’t even remember which one and the three of us are smoked. We grab water from an underground spring. I had to have Seven get a bag for me. My arms were too short to reach it. After filling up we take a quick group poll of is this camp? Seven and Wolf both say yes we’ve had enough for today. And just like that we’re home for the night.
I stomp around a flat spot on the ground to lay my tent under a pine tree. I look above for widow makers, any branches that look dead and will fall over night. I can’t see any it looks like a healthy 200’ tall tree. Fingers crossed. Wolf pitches their tent right next to me and Seven a little bit away. Really on the only “flat” spots.
I’m not social tonight, really none of us are. I skip group dinner and eat in my tent. Once my shoes come off I’m not leaving the tent till morning. Feet go into the sleeping bag to dry. I have Ramen noodles, Knorr Rice Medley, 2 rice krispy treats, a slim Jim a bag of peach rings and a donut. I pop my multi vitamins a vitamin D and a Tylenol with a blue cotton candy flavored liquid IV. Healthy living, even eating like trash 24/7 now, in the two weeks I’ve been out here walking every single day…. I have six pack abs again! Granted, looks wise I was in pretty good shape before coming out from lifting, yoga, running etc, but after this next few months watch out Brad Pitt from fight club.
After dinner like a Mouse I rummage around my bag of goodies looking for some pot. I plan on rolling a doobie, putting in my headphones and watching a movie. One of my favorites too, take a guess what one. In the 90 seconds it takes me to roll one up Wolf appears, I guess they do have good noses.
I offer Wolf some. There’s no time to be selfish out here. There’s something about going through some sketchy shit together that brings you closer to someone. I’m hoping we wake up and tomorrow’s conditions are a little more firm so we can get back to laying down fat milage in the snow while we make jokes and small talk.
I climbed into my tent around 5PM, the earliest night yet but for good reason. We ride again at 3AM this time so I need to get a jump start on my sleep. I take a look at the weather and it says tonight’s going to be 34° F at this elevation.
I shall prepare for a cold one ugh.
The Pacific Crest Trail 