Chapter 7: Vermillion Valley Resort to South Lake Tahoe
In order to catch up to my trail family, I would need to hike about 25 miles a day. Unfortunately, the Sierra Nevadas had some of the most elevation gain and loss on the entire trail, outside of parts of Washington. With that in mind, I practically ran out of Vermillion Valley Resort, towards Goodale Pass, and met Zosha on one of her horses. We chatted briefly, but I had a goal in mind and bid goodbye.
My friend Elleen, who had helped me out so much early on the trail, was doing the John Muir Trail southbound. As the PCT and JMT intersected for significant portions, I knew that if I made it 20 miles that day, despite not starting until around 11 AM that day, I could reach Purple Lake, where we should be able to meet up before dark.
Goodale Pass was short, but surprisingly steep, and on the descent I slipped a few times before reminding myself to be careful as I was now on my own. As I pushed myself hard to make up the miles to Purple Lake, almost running on some ascents, I got a satellite message from my trail family that they weren’t going to Yosemite and that I shouldn’t ask why.
As I was too proud to ask them to slow down for me, I said nothing about my plans to catch up to them and recalculated that I’d need to be pushing over 30 miles a day to catch them before Sonora Pass. I arrived at Purple Lake as the sun set, and Elleen and I caught up before exhaustion sent us to our tents.
The next morning’s sunrise found me racing down towards Red’s Meadow, my knees pounding. Many hikers get off at Red’s Meadow to resupply at the ski town of Mammoth, but as I had resupplied the day before at VVR, I packed out extra burgers and only gave myself an hour to catch my breath.
I threaded my way through the crowds who were visiting Devil’s Postpile, and the dusty trail clung to me, filling my nostrils. On the long climb up to Thousand Island Lake, I passed by Bandit and her group. I was also briefly joined by Shapes, who I hadn’t seen since the beginning of the Sierras, and his friend Zorro, who asked me to join their group. Determined, however, I continued hiking well past them, even as the sun set.
Just as the darkness settled, I met a woman stomping down the trail to me. I asked her how the campsites were at Thousand Island Lake. In reply, she demanded if I had seen “them”. I had no idea who she meant, and she introduced herself as Pitstop, looking for her fellow hikers Moo and Danger Noodle. They had planned to camp together just ahead, but the other two hadn’t shown up.
I had nothing to offer, so I continued my climb up the pass, exhausted beyond belief. As I climbed, I ate the food I had packed out. If anyone would have seen me, it would have been an amusing sight - with me huffing and puffing while eating a burger. Instead, the darkness hid me well, and I didn’t see any traces of other hikers until I made it to the border of legal dispersed camping at Thousand Island Lake. This was my first day hiking over 30 miles and setting up camp was a challenge because of exhaustion and wind.
Island Pass flew by, as did the climb to Donohue. This marked the entry to Yosemite, as well as the beginning of the end of the Sierras. On top of Donohue, I ran into Wild Child, and we reminisced a bit before I continued my way down to Tuolumne Meadows, grateful for the gentle trail.
Past Tuolumne Meadows, I carefully ran across a busy road carrying 4th of July celebrators. As there was a camping ban around Tuolumne Meadows, I needed to push myself once again to make my miles. Just past the camping boundary I spotted a small path leading up to a ledge. On the ledge was a perfect little campsite, and I crashed into just my sleeping pad and bag, grateful to be in bed before it got fully dark.
The next day started optimistic, but reality caught up to me as a few climbs later I was finding my pace slow dramatically. I took one of the first breaks I took on this stretch of trail and a hiker I had briefly met back at Kennedy Meadows, Cooking Mama, caught up to me. We hung out for a bit before he raced ahead and I crawled my way up Benson Pass.
I saw almost no one for the rest of the day until I neared the top of the pass. A short distance from the top, a young woman caught up to me and, seeing me struggle, cheered me on. Once we reached the top, we found Cooking Mama, who introduced the young woman as his hiking partner, Magma.
Magma, Cooking Mama, and I chatted for a while, and they also asked if I wanted to join them. While I thoroughly enjoyed their company, I needed to keep pressing on. When they pulled off to camp at the beautiful Smedberg Lake, I tripped my way down the other side of the pass and camped in what was definitely the birthplace of all mosquitoes.
Cooking Mama and Magma caught up to me early the next day, and the next two passes, Seavey and Dorothy Lake, were mercifully gentle. I had planned to camp just past Dorothy Lake, but the lake itself was so stunning that I cut my day a few miles short and enjoyed my evening for the first time since leaving VVR.
Just past Dorothy Pass was the 1,000-mile marker on the PCT. I wanted to celebrate this achievement, but the mosquitoes had come back in fury, so I instead focused on making it to Sonora Pass. Looking behind me I could see Yosemite, and behind that the High Sierras. Looking forward, I could see the reddish mountains of Northern California.
The approach to Sonora was treacherous, covered by snow on slim ledges, but the thought of catching up to my trail family pushed me forward. At Sonora Pass, I was lucky enough to get a quick hitch to Kennedy Meadows North, where I was able to surprise Ant Man, Black Widow, Willow, and Giggles. I was also able to grab dinner with Floss before I found out that my group was already planning to leave on an earlier shuttle back and I’d need to catch up again.
While I waited at Kennedy Meadows North to shuttle back to trail, Cooking Mama and Magma showed up. Once again, they asked if I’d join them, but I decided that I’d keep pushing forward, catching the group again at South Lake Tahoe.
Despite my best efforts, Cooking Mama and Magma caught up to me again at the saddle between Stanislaus and Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forests. Northern California welcomed us with the heavy smell of wildfire smoke, which made hiking tough. Despite that, I was hopeful I could catch up to my trail family, as I had pulled off some very high mileage days. Instead, I found out that they were still another 5 miles ahead of me when I finally called it for the evening.
The next few days repeated this loop, with me pushing my hardest to catch up, only for my trail family to be just ahead. Again, I knew I could have asked for them to wait for me, but my pride pushed me into telling them to “make it a challenge”, one that I kept failing. Instead, I ended up hanging out more with Cooking Mama and Magma, whose incredible hiking speed always had them passing me each day and setting up camp well before I was done for the day.
Despite basically running out of food, I was also thankfully able to meet two day hikers on the other side of Carson Pass, who gave me trail mix and granola bars. This would be enough to get me to Highway 50 and a hitch to South Lake Tahoe.
The trail again became swarmed by mosquitoes as I joined the Tahoe Rim Trail along the Upper Truckee River. I pushed through, driven mad with itchiness and smoke inhalation. As wildfires had intensified, many hikers I met in this section announced their intentions to quit once they reached South Lake Tahoe.
Eventually, however, I made it to Highway 50, and a minivan dropped me off at the hostel my trail family was staying at. The reunion was joyous, but brief, as we swapped plans and realized we’d be splitting up once again..
