What a Day!

Ooops and I left early hoping to get to Forrester before the snow got too soft. Soft snow means a lot of post-holing (when you sink into the snow with each step - this is exhausting and slows your progress). Roberto chose to start later. Ooops and I forded some very cold creeks. I brought sandals to wear while fording so my shoes would not get wet but Ooops did not bring any. His shoes got wet and froze on his feet! So while I forded the next stream he walked upstream to find a shallow crossing with rocks to hop across. We got separated once again and I hiked the rest of the day alone. My phone was out of battery once again so better pics will be forthcoming. Until then here are a few pics of the pics taken with my other camera.



Forester pass is 13,200'. It is the highest pass on the PCT. You climb up the south side and descend down the north side. At the base there was snow to cross before starting the steepest part of the climb. No trail was visible but I could see another climber way up near the top so knew in-which direction to head.

Once I got through the snow I climbed straight up until I reached the switchbacks of the trail. There was little snow and a few patches of ice. I took a lot of pictures and video which Mark will post for you later.





The actual dangerous part at the top was easy compared to what it is usually like in a high snow year. I got to the top without difficulty and was relieved to be headed down-- that is until I got a look at the north side. I was blinded by the snow and where had the trail gone? It was nowhere to be found. I checked the time - 1230pm the snow would be soft. I spotted footprints but they were melting rapidly and disappearing into the snow cups. With micro-spikes on my feet, poles in hand, And s full pack on my back, I started the long descent post-holing down. I could not make out where the switchbacks were and the footprints had disappeared. I checked my map and GPS and realized I needed to go higher to reach the trail, I was now below it. I also needed to go west as far as I could see. As i attempted to make my way in that direction I slipped and glissaded down the hill at full speed being propelled by the weight of my pack. If this was planned it would have been fun but I was already too low and below was uncertainty. I finally was able to stop myself by crashing into a bolder feet first. Now I was close to the bottom with huge boulders in every direction. I spotted a hiker in the distance far to the west but low. I called out but my voice was list in space. What could another hiler do anyway. I felt silly for even making the attempt. All I needed to do was go west and I would run into the trail. Not a big deal. I could see where I needed to go. It looked so close, but looks are deceiving, and after an hour and many falls I was still far from my destination. By this time I was wet from the snow, tired from the struggle, and wondered if I would ever come to the end of this boulder field. I used every technique my son taught me at the climbing gym to scale the rocks. Even my yoga came in to play as I tried to keep my balance while taking off then putting back on the micro spikes. I made it from one monstrous boulder to the next. Then more snow fields, back on micro spikes- more post-holing and --is that water I hear under-foot? Quick get off the snow bridge! Whew that was close. Eventually I made it to the trail. Ripped pants, bruised and bloody knee but just superficial. It could have been much worse. I checked my watch- 3:45pm. I counted my blessings. Six miles later I passed Roberto's tent. He had just made it back to camp himself. His story was not nearly as spectacular as mine. Some of us have all the luck. He said he saw Ooops taking pictures with his tripod and estimated he was about an hour behind me. So I walked to the next campsite and set up my tent. I was organizing the food in my bear box when I heard footsteps. expecting to see Ooops I was startled at what I saw. A huge black bear, less than 50' away was looking me over. He did not break his pace and walked gracefully by. I sat motionless with my bear box open and food scattered about. What to do? Then I remembered - never run, stay calm, defend your food, make yourself big. So I did what seemed most important at the time and reached for my camera. Snap I got a picture as he proceeded to the woods preferring to forage more tasty options about 100' away. I quietly packed up my food and put my bear can in the camp bear box. He was still foraging! What if that was just an appetizer and he planned to come back for the main course? I got in my tent and zipped it up as if the thin tent wall was all the protection I needed. After 10 minutes the bear I heard him rustle through the trees. He moved on up the hill and disappeared from my site.
Later I learned from Roberto the bear made his way to his camp and knocked his bear canister over while Roberto, just 15 feet away backed up, speechless and shaking fought the urge to run.
What a day!
Weary Heart