We last saw our heroes sucking wind at the top of Lester Pass

So great, we finally made it to the top of Lester Pass.  But per yesterday’s “cliffhanger,” our troubles were far from over.  There was a sizable patch of thick snow remaining on the other side of the pass right across the trail.  And there wasn’t an easy way around it through the rocks.  And we didn’t have ice axes because snow wasn’t supposed to be an issue in early September.  What to do?

I had trekking poles, so I decided that I would carefully kick steps into the snow on top of the trail.  The slope was considerable, and there was a collection of boulders at the bottom waiting to mangle me if I slipped, so I proceeded VERY carefully and slowly, with Mule following at a safe distance.  The patch of snow was 50-100 yards wide, and it took the better part of an hour to cross it.  I had diamond-crushing sphincter tone the entire time, and by the time we were finally back on terra firma we had to wait a few minutes to recover from the adrenaline crash.  While it WAS risky, PCT thru-hikers probably do worse dozens of times in the Sierras.

We felt better after about 10 minutes and started hoofin’ it, and as we lost elevation our stamina improved noticeably.  About 2 1/2 miles later we passed the first of the two trail junctions leading to the Cook Lakes, and then at about 6.5 miles into the day we forded a wide but shallow creek (I think it was Falls Creek).

Not long after that we took a break, taking advantage of bright sunshine and a light breeze to dry out our tent and quilts.

It was late afternoon, and although we felt better than we had the past 2 days, we were far from 100% of our usual lean mean hiking machine selves, so we went just a little further and made camp on a bench far above a lake that might have been Lake Sequa, although to this day I’m not sure exactly where we were.

We found the only halfway rock-free site in the area and did a very half-assed job of pitching our tent in the wind.  However, we did have some tasty beef tagine for dinner.  We got to sleep early because we knew we had a rough day ahead of us in the morning.  Day 3:  approx. 7.1 miles.

Mule and I were on the trail early the next morning.  We had to go 9 miles to August Lake, where we were meeting a horse packer who we had hired to bring us our resupply.  I think it cost us maybe $135.  Whatever it was, I highly recommend this.  We would’ve never made it over Lester Pass carrying an additional 4 days of food.  Anyway, we had to be at the rendezvous point by 4:00, and the way we had hiked the last 2 days we certainly weren’t guaranteed to make it on time.

Roughly 4 miles into the morning we passed the side trail to Timico Lake, where we had originally planned to be the previous night.

The trail was relatively level most of the morning, but it remained at or slightly above 10,000 ft., and we still weren’t well acclimatized, so our progress was a bit sluggish.  But we needed to plow on, so plow on we did.

Early in the afternoon we began our ascent of Hat Pass which tops out at 10,850 ft.  It wasn’t quite as brutal as Lester Pass, but we still struggled.  The descent was actually worse.

The trail was steep and rocky, and it was hard to imagine that pack animals were able to negotiate the treacherous path.  But since we were now within a mile of our goal, we found a second wind and once we got to the bottom we picked up our pace.

We made it to August Lake at 3:50, just in the nick of time.

August Lake was really pretty, and at 9,880 ft. was at the lowest elevation we’d been at for a while.  We were both toast at this point and took off our packs and basically collapsed in the grass on our backs.  Believe it or not, the horse packer showed up at exactly 4:00 with our resupply box, which meant that we had to pop back to our feet and not act like we’d had our butts kicked in front of this cowboy.

Our resupply box looked bigger than I remembered.  We opened it up and dumped all the goodies on the ground and returned the empty box to be packed out.  We both quickly came to the conclusion that we’d packed too much, so we did some culling.  Thankfully, our resupply guy was happy to let us return some of the undesired items to the box to be packed out.

There were 4 cans of beer in our resupply.  Now, 4 cans of beer equals 3 lbs. of pack weight.  Neither of us were feeling like having a beer at that particular moment, nor were we excited at the prospect of adding 1.5 lbs. each to our pack weight.  A solution soon presented itself.

Two older guys came trotting up the trail from a series of lakes below us.  They were carrying fly rods and looked like decent guys, so I held up a can of beer in each hand and greeted them and asked if they’d like some trail magic.  Their eyes lit up, and they graciously accepted my offer.  Even better, one of them stated that in return, they were going to catch us some dinner.  O rly?  This perked me up a bit.  And then the other guy handed me an ultralight spinning rod and told me to try my hand with it as well.  And wouldn’t you know, I caught a 14 inch cutthroat within 2 minutes.  The guys came by a little while later to add 3 more trout to our haul, and all of a sudden Mule and I had 4 fish to cook for dinner.  Things were looking up.  Mule is an expert fishmonger, and he had those 4 trout cleaned and gutted in no time at all.

I just happened to have a small bottle of ghee and a small bottle of white wine as well as some garlic, so I did a pretty solid job of frying up our dinner.

There’s not much that could’ve made this feast better, but the llapingachos were on point, as was the microbrew.

Naturally, once we had finished dinner our moods swung 180 degrees.  We finally got around to pitching our tent and filtering some water.  Not long after that a ranger and 2 summer intern trail runners came by and nicely let us know that our tent was too close to the water.  However, they could tell that we were pretty whupped from our day on the trail, so the ranger added that if we didn’t move our tent back 50 feet he’d never know 🙂  One of the 2 interns was from my oldest son’s university in Indiana (small world) and actually knew who he was.

After they left, we…..didn’t move our tent.  And really, it was pretty close to 200 ft. from the lakeshore already.

We fell asleep happy.  But at 3AM Mule woke me up excitedly because he had heard a strange noise that freaked him out.  I listened, and a minute later I heard an elk bugling.  What a great way to end a day.  Day 4:  8.9 miles.

The morning of Day 5 presented us with a decision to make.  My itinerary had been made based upon us being able to increase our mileage, which meant that if we stuck to our plans we would need to hike 44 miles in the next 4 days mileage that would include Washakie Pass at over 11,600 ft.  Considering that our longest day to this point had been merely 9 miles, and factoring in that we still weren’t totally acclimatized to altitude, we grudgingly admitted to ourselves that we probably needed to come up with a Plan B.

We reviewed our map for bailout points, and found that we were 12 miles from Boulder Lake, which had a lodge.  Since we were going to need a shuttle to Big Sandy trailhead to pick up my car, we thought this was a good option as it increased our chances of bumming a ride.

So we took off for maybe a quarter mile down the Fremont Trail, hung a right at a connector above North Fork Lake, and then returned to the Highline Trail for just over a mile before hanging a left onto the Ethel Lake Trail.

We steadily lost elevation as we hiked down a valley dotted with lakes.  Along the way, we saw our first bear sign.

On the Ethel Lake Trail we were passed by another horse packer carrying a load to set up a camp for some folks who were going to hike in separately and fish for a week.  Pretty sweet deal to have a camp already waiting for you.

We passed a lot of lakes, and we kept our eyes pealed to hopefully see a moose.  No luck.  The lakes were pretty though, and as we got lower some of them had a plenty of vegetation that looked an awful lot like moose food to me.

Even though we were going downhill, the trail was often rocky and it was beating us up.  By the time we approached the trailhead, I was DONE.  Like, I had zero ATP left in my body.  There were a lot of confusing trail intersections near the trailhead, and like a true friend Mule told me to wait while he hiked ahead and figured out which way we had to go.  It took him a while, but he succeeded, and guided me to our goal.

We had arrived at dinner time.  We went up onto the porch and were greeted by one of the servers.  We explained our predicament to her and she said that while nobody was free to drive us to Big Sandy at that moment, there would likely be someone available after dinner.  And oh by the way, we were welcome to have some of that dinner if we had money.  I peeked through the window and saw white tablecloths and a very well-dressed older couple dining.  It didn’t look like the kind of place that needed smelly hiker trash, and I gently mentioned this to the server.  Her reply was that they had tables on the porch too and that we were welcome to dine there.  She didn’t need to twist our arms any further.

It turned out that for a mere $29 we received a gourmet 5 course meal that included some of the best mussels I’ve ever had for an appetizer, a really good salad, and filet freakin’ mignon!  They also had amazing huckleberry ice tea, which I drank at least a gallon of.

Mule said he’d never seen me so happy.  Meanwhile, I checked in with Kate at GOTCO and she said she’d have a driver return my car from Big Sandy to their lot in Pinedale tomorrow, so Mule and I only needed a ride back to the hotel.  At around 9:00 one of the lodge hands shuttled us back to the Best Western, which fortunately had vacancies.  She gave us a very entertaining account of Pinedale’s cowboy bars on the drive into town.  We ended the day in comfy beds.  After showering of course.   Note: This is why I always carry cash and plastic on the trail.  You just never know.  Day 5:  12.1 miles.

We decided that since we had an extra day to kill that we would zero in town.  Pinedale is a really neat community of about 2,000 people that has a surprising amount of places to dine and shop.  There are several outfitters in town, and we visited one of them to buy our families some gifts.  After that, we finally found our moose.

Only in a place like Pinedale would the Chinese restaurant have a moose out front.  Not a Buddha.  A moose.  Very solid food by the way.  We bumbled around town for a while after lunch and found a really neat market called Obo’s.

Pretty pricey, but given the location not unreasonably so.  Lots of fresh fruit and vegetables as well as great meats, some seafood and an amazing deli.  This would be my go-to if I lived there.

We had an early dinner at Los Cabos, which was also an above-average quality restaurant, and then returned to Wind River Brewing Co. for a nightcap.  All in all a great zero day.

The next morning was Saturday, and we began the long drive back.  What took 28 hours on the way out took 33 going back, in part because we crashed at a rest stop halfway there.  My GPS also decided to avoid the simple interstate path thru St. Louis and instead took us through the neighborhoods Chevy Chase went through in that Vacation movie.

We hadn’t quite pulled off the 80 mile adventure I had planned for us, but we both agreed that it was still the trip of a lifetime, and we vowed to return with our wives one day.  I also determined that I was too much of an out-of-shape fatass to have attempted this hike, which led me to begin a daily walking regimen that helped me lose 30 lbs. by the following spring.

Or Two Lowlanders Get A Lesson In Altitude

Last September my hiking buddy Mule and I decided to finally do a bucket list hike.  Our first hike together was a thru-hike of the Foothills Trail, and we’d done several AT sections together as well as a couple of local trips.  We decided that we felt experienced enough at this point to try something grander.

It was a great idea.

We thought that if we drove straight to Wyoming from Alabama we would get a few hours of acclimitization in towards the end of the drive, which was important since we were going to be at or above 10,000 ft. for much of the hike.  My physician suggested premedicating for a few days with gingko as well, but in retrospect that didn’t really help.  Neither of us wanted to fool with Diamox because of unpleasant side effects, namely adversely affecting the taste of beer!

So we departed on a Friday afternoon and drove 28 hours straight to Pinedale Wyoming, arriving Saturday evening.  Yours truly drove 26 of those hours.  The excitement of this trip had me rather hyped.  We checked into the Best Western right after arriving.

We took our luggage and gear to our room and then realized that the Wind River Brewing Company was right down the street, and by some strange coincidence we were both hungry and thirsty.

This proved to be a very popular joint, and it was Saturday night after all….so we had to wait a bit for a table.  But once seated, we proceeded to crush some of their excellent craft beers, and had a great dinner as well.

Looking back on it, drinking several beers the night before hiking to the highest point you’ve ever been above sea level wasn’t terribly bright.

The next morning we were up early.  We made pigs of ourselves at the excellent breakfast in the Best Western lobby and then went outside to meet Kate from GOTCO (Great Outdoors Transportation Company).  We left my Expedition in their lot, which was to be shuttled later to the Big Sandy trailhead, from where we were planning to hike out to.  Planning, mind you.

Kate drove us up to the Elkhart Park Trailhead, where we discovered that this was a VERY popular hike.

The trailhead by the way is at 9,360 ft.  We started out hiking along a gentle uphill grade through some coniferous woods.

t didn’t take long before we were feeling the effects of altitude.  Mild headache and light-headedness as well as being slightly short of breath.  Nothing too major though.

The Pole Creek Trail eventually opened up briefly into a pretty meadow.

At 4.7 miles we reached Photographer’s Point, where you get the first great views of what you’re getting yourself into.

You can see a smoky haze in the above photos.  There were unfortunately some nearby forest fires.

At 5.2 miles we turned left onto the Seneca Lake Trail.  At 6.0 miles we passed our first of many beautiful lakes.

To account for possible struggles with altitude (at least I got something right) we had only planned to go 7.3 miles to Hobbs Lake on our first day, but we stopped at a small tarn a bit before that because we were feeling pretty gassed.

We did the usual camp chores and set up our tent.  I had purchased a Hilleberg Anjan 3 for this trip, because we were going to be above treeline a lot, and the Wind River Range can have nasty storms at any time of year.  I wanted to be prepared for high winds and snow, just in case.  Day 1:  6.7 miles.

Our plan the next morning was to hike to Island Lake, pitch our tent, and day-hike into the Titcomb Basin.  Sadly, altitude effects kept us from Titcomb Basin.  Which at least gives me an excuse to go back one day.

We broke camp and started hiking, passing Hobbs Lake at 10,070 ft.  After about a mile and a half, we reached the lower end of Seneca Lake.

Seneca is a pretty long lake, and by the time we got to the upper end, we weren’t feeling very well.

A little ways past Seneca Lake we passed the trail heading left towards Lost Lake, and not long after that we passed the junction to our right with the Highline Trail, to which we would return the next day.

A while later we staggered up to the junction with the Indian Pass Trail that led to Island Lake.  The junction was at 10,640 ft.  In our pitiful state, the view below gave us hope, as it was downhill for a bit.

On the way down we saw something unexpected- snow.

This had me a little concerned, as we were going to go over a couple of passes at significantly higher elevation than this in the next several days.  What awaited us?

We were moving SLOWLY- it was already well into the afternoon- but we finally stumbled our way to our campsite above Island Lake.  Despite the haze from the nearby forest fires, we had some great views of what is regarded as one of the most beautiful lakes in the Winds.

I managed to prepare some very tasty penne with vodka sauce that partially revived us, and we made sure we rehydrated ourselves, but we were pretty disappointed at how our bodies “betrayed” us this day.  It had totally wrecked our plans.  In order to have done our planned day hike into Titcomb Basin it would’ve been another 7.8 miles, and to be honest we didn’t think we could do that even the next day.  We sadly came to the conclusion that Titcomb Basin would have to wait for another time, which sucked, because it’s a real highlight of the Winds.  But we held out hope that we could otherwise still stick to itinerary.  We were deluded.   Day 2:  a measly 4.9 miles.

It was really, really tough the next morning to eat breakfast and get packed.  We were most definitely not feeling it, whatever IT is.   Our itinerary called for an 11+ mile day to end up camping at Timico Lake, and we already felt like that was totally out of the question.  We decided to just hike as far as we could and play it by ear.

After a little more than a mile we made it back to the junction with the Highline Trail.

It didn’t take long for us to get a view far ahead of Lester Pass.  At 11,100 ft. we knew it was going to challenge us.

At least the climb was gentle until the end.  As we made our way along the Highline Trail we passed yet another pretty lake.  They’re everywhere in the Winds.

However, as we approached the base of Lester Pass we progressively became more winded.  And as we started the final ascent, we were DYING.  I could only go 20-30 steps at a time before stopping to try to catch my breath…..and the thing was, you couldn’t catch it no matter how long you rested.  We both have medical backgrounds, and we were confident that we weren’t entering pulmonary edema territory, so we slogged onward.  SLOWLY.  I learned later that there was only 55% of the oxygen that we were used to at this elevation.  This was probably the single hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the alternative was to turn around and go home.  We were hopeful that once we got over the pass and lost elevation, we’d feel better.  Ha!

Mule took pity on me and carried my pack the last several hundred yards, but he paid dearly for his act of kindness.

I finally hauled my sorry buns up to the top of the pass as well.

Our troubles weren’t over yet though.