Saturday, July 26. Entrance to Evolution Valley. 9,200 feet. 15 1/2 miles.
I am in no mood to write. What had been a perfect day has come to an end with - I can't believe it - heavy rain. I'll start at the beginning.
Drew's funk last night carried over to the morning. My repeated efforts to rouse him from sleep only compounded his sour feelings. He threw mini-tantrums this morning - angrily jerking and breaking his stuck fishing line to demonstrate his anger. I packed up feigning indifference.
We awoke to a beautiful cloudless sunrise at Marie Lake. This spot is as spectacular under clear skies as it was under last night's cloud-filled sunset. At 8:00 we set out walking in silence until the effort softened Drew's mood. After a short and lovely climb to Selden Pass (10,870 feet) we began the long descent to the South Fork of the San Joaquin River at 8,000 feet. We passed Sally Keyes Lakes and then a succession of lodgepole pine forests and brightly flowered meadows. Surprisingly, the forest ended and we began switching back and forth down a long hot south-facing slope blanketed in manzanita - a landscape characteristic of a much lower elevation. Drew and I commented again how glad we were to be southbound and not climbing this exposed parched slope.
Descending. With each step down, the weight of body and pack pounds on my feet, knees and thighs. Sore hips and shoulders, tender from the first 100 miles of pressure, wince at the thought of 120 more. About 1,800 paces per mile will total somewhat less than half a million burdened steps when we're done. Not low elevation, level terrain steps, but always up or down over uneven footing. Even here in the tent at day's end the soles of my feet are hot. On the trail today, they were scorching.
In the valley at the bottom of this manzanita-carpeted slope, not far from the river, are some world-class Jeffrey pines and sierra junipers. For a dry 3 1/2 miles, we followed the south fork but were never near enough to drink from it until we reached Piute Creek coming from the Sierra crest to the east. The bridge over this creek marked a milestone; our entry into King's Canyon National Park.
From Piute Creek, we followed the gorge of the South Fork of the San Joaquin River four miles upriver to its confluence with Evolution Creek. Evolution Creek's last gasp is a raucous 800-foot tumble off a hanging valley into the San Joaquin. For us, it was a steep one-mile climb to level ground and the entrance to Evolution Valley. The trail crosses Evolution Creek at the top of the climb where the creek is 100 feet wide, up to three feet deep, and gathering speed for its rush down the hill. Add to that the uneven cobblestone footing, and you have a hairy crossing that required all our attention. The heat of the day increases the snowmelt and thus the flow in stream beds. Some hikers we passed chose to make camp and wait until morning to cross when they hope the flow will slacken. I wonder how the current downpour has affected that choice.
Despite our bad weather luck, hope springs eternal. The bulk of the day had been so nice that we dismissed gathering clouds and distant thunder as harmless afternoon mountain hubbub. Slow learners.
I had not set up the tent, hoping for our first night under the stars, when the heavens opened. For two hours, it rained as hard as it had at any point on the trip. Hoping it would pass quickly, we tried to wait it out, huddled side by side under a tree, my plastic ground cloth pulled over our heads. Tantalizingly close, down the valley, we looked at clear blue sky.
When it became clear this was not a passing shower, we used our now highly polished and practiced foul weather camp set-up procedure: tent up quickly; grab sleeping bag, pad, book, headlamp, etc. and throw them in the tent; put pack under a tree and cover with a plastic garbage bag; set aside and invert bear canister; climb in tent and wait. Now a familiar routine.
The rain has stopped. Drew is determined to cook while I would settle for munchies now that I am tucked away in toasty goose feathers. Drew's resilience in this relentless weather is impressive. I struggle to deal with it gracefully, but I can't squelch the anger and resentment. Where is the usual Sierra summer weather?
The injuries from my Bridalveil Falls tumble are still ugly, but don't slow me down much. My left little toe is still black and twice its normal size. It is tender for the first mile in the mornings, but then no problem. Knees are swollen with fluid and tender to the touch, but don't hurt while walking. The soles of my feet are screaming hot all the time. The blister from Red's Meadow is well protected and not a problem on the trail. I am sore and tender in the evenings, but traveling is fine.
Dinner is ready. Atta boy, Drew.
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