PCT 9 - Lost in the Meadowlands

PCT 9 - Lost in the Meadowlands

It seems serendipitous sometimes how events unfold to find yourself to the perfect places in life. This is how the last three days have felt. We left Kennedy Meadows in the afternoon, finally pulling ourselves away from the "porch's" powerful hold. Felling good we started up the meadow following the Kern River. Then there was a sudden cloud ahead, that over the next two hours as we walked closer turned into a churning mass of a forest fire filling the valley that we were travelling towards. As we got closer and could see the flames over taking Clover Meadows, we knew that another route around this fire had to be found. turned back and camped with a couple from Redlands at the car campground at Roads end.

The next day I found a ride in the back of a 4x4 truck out to Monache Meadows. With 10 people stuffed in one truck and all our packs in another, we watched meadow and mountain pass by as the locals took us on every rolling jeep road that lead towards the trail. It honestly felt like the Indiana Jones Ride at Disneyland. After 3 river fords and 20 trail miles we ended up at Tom's favorite fishing hole behind a man made stone dam. With a perfect swimming hole Tom left us there to find our own route north.

Some decided to take a route east towards the base of the volcano, Olanche Peak, there the trail continued its high route on the edge of the desert. For the rest of us adventure was on the mind. With no map, we began to follow cairnes along the river towards a talked about meadow. The going followed many talus fields and river fords. And soon the group of 8 split into two. Young and ambitious the other group lead by UCONN headed up the river, waiting for us twice. Accent and I realized that Detour (a hiker from 2006 I had travelled with) was slow over the loose rocks, and so we decided to hang back with him to get him through the river section. So we all split ways, sure that Uconn had enough Nav experience to lead the others to Trail Pass.

The going was hard for Detour. After two hours I had figured we had only gone one mile up the river and he was getting frustrated. So we headed up a creek gully to the top of the canyon and began to walk cross country through the Lodgepole pine forest. Travel was easy and fast. Working our way around decending creek valleys we covered a lot of ground. The wilderness was true here, without much sign of man. We felt free and alive, without a line to follow other the a direction north.

By evening we reached the edge of Strawberry Meadows. Here we could see the Sierra flank extending before us in the sunset light. The route back to the PCT headed up a canyon to the east. But all eyes were on the meadows. The desison to follow the river through the wondering ranges was a quick one. Slept all through the night to the sound of coyotes howling across the open meadows which was the size of a large town, ringed with mountains extending to 10'000 ft.

Dawn rose, and the three of us began to make our way across the meadow. The path happen to come upon two women climbers who had decended Kern Peak the day before and gave us information of the meadows ahead. They had also ran into the other group that had broken into two and after traveling all night and were on track back to the PCT. With new sense of direction, we pushed deeper into the Golden Trout Wilderness, making a map as the miles passed while hunting trail signs for more info.

After two river crossings we came to one of the most expansive and beautiful meadows my eyes have ever seen, Templeton Mdws. This was a scene that seemed that perfect vision of a western mountain range. We took lunch and were inspired to explore more. With a signed trail to Trail Pass, Detour decide that he would push on back to the trail exploring the east arm of meadows where he knew the landscape. Accent and I said our goodbyes and walked two different trails across the meadow, slowing getting futhur apart, till both of us where like silowets on a great field.

Accent and I, headed into the woods following a trail as it weaved in and out of countless arms of Ramshaw Meadows. Signs of old sheep camps appeared along the edges of the Meadows, hailing to days before wilderness protection. But now they were abandoned, and we saw little evidence of people in the last week or so. The wilderness was long and deep, and each turn proved more beatiful the the last. We pushed into a volcanic region with cinder cones an relic lava flows. Passing an old backcountyry horse station, we followed a creek up into Big Whitney Meadows. Camped on the edge watching the light play it's magic on the peaks of the south flank of Sequoia National Park. Our exploring had brought usto a final wall before the peak. Right were I wanted to be. Again that night the echos of coyotes played across the mountains and meadows, giving one last desolate evening before arriving in the grand cathedrals of the "Range of Light."

The dawn of the third day found us rising through the Lodgepoles onto the forest of Foxtail pines. Vivid colors of white granite, blue skies, orange-red bark and green needles played for our eye attention. With a steady climb of switchbacks two travellers arrived at the top of Siberian Pass (11'000 ft) to a large plateau ringed with snow capped peaks vaulting to the sky. This was the High Sierras in true form. We had arrived...

With the PCT before us at a trail jct, our feet took the other route as Frost once spoke of and rose high into the peaks to hunt for more alpine lakes and meadows. "... And it was worth all the while."

-- Ridgewalker 山武士