While I was in Mammoth, like I do in most towns, I looked in my guide book to see what lay ahead. Normally the information has been relatively useless because of how dry of a snow year it has been. However I did notice one thing that caught my eye. It was a note from a previous hiker named Joker. What he basically said was the section of trail I was about to embark on was one of the hardest for him both physically and emotionally and in some ways I agree. The trail started out easy enough as far as the sierras go. The cool part about Yosemite is it is like a condensed version of Kings Canyon. You climb pass after pass but they aren't as big as in Kings Canyon, but you still get spectacular views. Yosemite is full of alpine meadows and lakes. All this beauty came at a price though. The passes are not kindly to feet. All the jagged rocks, steep climbs and steeper descents are tough on the legs. Also when you go down two-three passes in one day you become tired.
What made this a difficult section of trail was not the terrain however it was the trail makers. Ironically Yosemite has been the worst labeled section of trail of this whole trip. During my stay I encountered three official signs saying I was indeed on the PCT. I had to mostly depend on myself and other hikers who would etched in PCT on the trail signs. But the worst part was how the trail would flat out disappear. I would be hiking along enjoying the views when all of the sudden the trail vanished. I would look left and then right and nothing. Each time I would have to spend five minutes walking in circles trying to find the bloody trail.
The worst of all these trail searches was on Monday the 25th. That day I wanted to do 25ish miles to allow me a better set up to get into northern Kennedy Meadows (different then the town at mile 700). This day would have included four passes along with the high mileage. I knew it would be a challenge but I didn't mind. The day actually started quite wonderfully. The first pass went without a hitch, and the following canyon was a sight in the morning sun, but it was during the decent down that things started to go awry. The first time I really lost trail and bushwhacked was due to a fallen tree. Granted this instance was my fault. Without looking at my map I pushed down the hill, however the trail went left to avoid what I ended hiking which was steep rocks that became a cliff. Well 20 minutes later along with a whole assortment of curses I did end up back on trail.
My next endeavor with bushwhacking came at the bottom of the same canyon. This section proved to be a challenge not just to me but to many hikers. This part of the trail was in a swampy area full of downed trees. At fist I did ok, but somewhere in a creek while being molested by mosquitoes I realized the trail went a different direction. In part to get out of the creek and in part to find sanctuary from the blood suckers, I dashed up a ravine to sunny rock. Like vampires the mosquitoes seem to prefer the dark and shade. Lucky this time the trail was only about thirty feet away and a simple find.
The last bushwhack on the other hand proved to be the most frustrating experience on trail yet. It started with a lovely stroll by a creek. Until this point I had a rule: When hiking by a creek, life is good. This proved to be the exception. As I was walking along the trail it yet again vanished. This had happened many times before, but normally the trail was just ahead. This time though, I could not find it. Full or rage I stormed around. Up the rock I was on, across the creek, I could not find it. Eventually after some extravagant curses and a moment with my GPS I knew it had to be near. So I ventured until I finally found trail. Excited and relieved I followed the very well maintained trail. This trail led up to another exquisite alpine meadow with granite outcroppings. As I hiked along enjoying the views I started to feel off. All day I had been following a fellow hiker name Big Wuss who was wearing Brook's Cascadias and I hadn't seen those treads for a while. Well as this sense of unease built I eventually decided to stop and check my location via GPS. Well as the GPS gained a lock on my location I compared it to my map. As I read my Easting coordinate my heart sank and when I read my Northing it plummeted. For I was on a entirely different trail then the PCT and had been for the last half hour. Infuriated about hiking 1-2 mile off trail that I would have to re-hike to get back on trail I stormed off. Never have I hiked so fast. Steaming I came back to my original junction and of course there were no signs saying what trail I was on nor could I see any other down trail. Fed up I gave up on the PCT, put in a goto function on my GPS and plowed into the woods. As time progressed my frustrations changed to despair. I was tired, I knew the trail was close, yet I could not find it. At one point, feeling defeated, I sat down to orient myself to my map. After analyzing it for a few minutes I realized the trail had to be on the other side of the ravine I was sitting by. And right as I looked up I saw no other than Big Wuss walking along the trail. Excited, relieved, and happy I scurried up to true trail. Fortunately I managed to stay on trail for the next pass and the rest of the day. But needless to say I only managed 20 miles that day...on the PCT.
The rest of my Yosemite experience was much smoother partially because from that point on if I lost trail I stopped and looked until I found it again, no matter how long it took.
On a side note, as soon as I left Yosemite boom there were again trail signs for the PCT *sigh*. Also I kid you not I saw a hare that was at least two feet big. No joke, it was massive.
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