Mile 945 to 962 Matterhorn Creek.

It was rough getting up today as I didn’t sleep very well. Nevertheless, I changed clothes and emerged from my tent to a silent camp. I started packing up. When no one was moving after 5 minutes, I clanked my tent stacks together outside Bedazzled’s tent and finally heard movement. Her phone broke from water damage, well sweat damage really, since it never fell in water. She had been keeping it in her bra and yeah you get the picture. All that is to say that she needs someone to wake her up since she has no phone or watch. Luckily, Bedazzled gets ready quickly, and we were ready by 5:30. We waited for 20 minutes, but lost patience and started hiking. Vipr and Fun Dip hadn’t even taken their tents down yet.

The trail circled around a meadow and the Tuolumne River. As we progressed, we looked through the trees and saw something white. We couldn’t tell if it was snow or rock. When we emerged from the woods, we saw a huge hill of granite. It was barren except for the odd tree trying to find purchase in a crack.

We slowly walked by gawking at its size and smooth surface. Just before we reentered the woods, I stopped and asked Bedazzled if she would like to climb to the top. She responded, “If you would like to, I’ll do that.” Taking that as a “yes,” we dropped our packs and started scrambling to the top. The climb was steep and each step stretched out our calfs.

When we turned around, our breath caught in our throats and smiles broke across our faces. Last night’s meadow, the Tuolumne River, and a range of snow covered mountains unfolded before us. It was one of those views thay you don’t forget, and we stood there trying to memorize every detail. As we slowly scanned the horizon, mountains leapt up to great our gaze and valleys hid in shadow waiting for the sun’s rays to warm their walls. The 360 degree view was gorgeous and we spent 40 minutes jumping from rock to rock and exploring the granite slab. We were both happy that we took the time to get off the trail and explore.

As we descended, we saw two hikers the size of ants walk by and head straight into the forest. If only they knew what they had missed.

With our packs back on, we headed down trail and soon arrived at the Tuolumne River bridge. We were delighted to see it above water. Reports from a few weeks ago said it was submerged. A tree lodged in the side of the bridge served as proof of just how high the water had been.

We started to head down stream and passed Tuolumne Falls, which was absolutely raging and sending spray onto the trail. As we crossed another bridge, we ran into a young ranger who was checking PCT permits. It was the first time getting checked on trail.

We spent the next couple miles walking through beautiful meadows. This part of the Sierra has a gentle more polished beauty to it than the jagged peaks of the High Sierra. I am enjoying it greatly.

Eventually, we came to McCabe Creek, which had two forks separated by an island. Bedazzled, who has become much more confident in stream crossings, headed straight in. The water came up to our knees, but it wasn’t too swift and we crossed easily. The second fork came up to our thigh, but we crossed it without trouble and decided to lunch and nap on its bank. We still hadn’t reunited with Vipr and Fun Dip and decided to wait for 2 hours in hopes they would catch up.

Just as the 2 hour mark came to pass, we heard voices. It was our two missing group members and Shake Down, Earwig,  Righteous, and Cowboy. Apparently, Vipr and Fun Dip had decided to cook breakfast and wait for members of the Lazy F*cks to get ready before heading out. Sometimes I wonder why they keep choosing a 5:30 start time if they are always so consistently late.

Reunited at long last, we hiked on to Spiller Creek. This creek turned out to be a nasty one, which was a bit of a surprise.  It starts off fine, but when you get to the middle, the creek bed becomes filled with large slick boulders and you can’t find a solid spot to put your foot. You end up standing there on one leg with the current pushing against you as you try to place and then replace your foot. It would be very easy to slip and get sent down river.

After successful navigating the boulders, I watched Bedazzled start to come across. She got to the same spot in the middle and stopped. She was trying to place her foot and looked to be in a precarious position so I grabbed my trekking poles and went a little down stream of her and started to move upstream toward her position. She took a step and lurched forward. Her backpack swung around. I started to make my way up to her as fast as I could. She recovered and continued across the river just making it. The others had been watching and decided to scout upstream for a better spot. After 30 minutes of scouting and no luck, they returned to the same spot to cross. The remaining guys crossed having trouble in the same spot, but made it successfully.

That left Shake Down, Vipr, and Fun Dip to cross in a group. They formed a tripod by locking arms and gripping each other’s packs and started across. Right away, things weren’t going well. The water was up to their waists and the current was strong. They were having trouble getting solid footing and Vipr was having to take all the current against her back. The guys started to edge into the water to help. The girls had got about 1/3 of the way in, but weren’t able to progress further with confidence that they wouldn’t be swept away.

Earwig and Cowboy linked arms and reached the girls giving them much needed support. I came up from down stream and pushed against Shake Down and Fun Dip’s packs. Progress was slow, but they made it across and hugged each other once on the bank. It was the scariest crossing yet.

Once recovered, we carried on. I was surprised to find snow on the trail since it had been snow free all day.

Going up was fine, but when I started to descend the other side of the climb toward the Matterhorn River. Things started to get scary. The grade of the trail was really steep and the switchbacks were covered in large patches of snow. It was late afternoon so the snow was slushy and I was really uncomfortable descending. Twice I fell and started to slide. I had to roll onto my butt and start jamming my heels into the snow and stab my trekking poles at anything and everything to stop myself. It rattled me, and I didn’t feel like I was completely in control on the descent,  but there was no other option.

When I finally made it to the bottom, the feeling of dred that had been building inside me didn’t dissipate.

I saw Big Daddy who is 6’4″ walking up the Matterhorn River. He was shaking his head. When he reached me, he said he was looking for a better crossing down stream, but couldn’t find one. Before I had arrived, he had tried to cross at the trail, but turned back because the current was too strong. The water had gone up to his waist, which is almost to my chest. Not good news at all. I started to go upstream  and look for potential crossings. Everywhere I thought looked good turned out to be too sketchy. I would start in and then there would be a big drop off or the current would be just too strong. I didn’t get more than five feet in and I would turn back. After five aborted attempts, I decided to go look down stream.

After letting my legs warm up and walking down to where the river forked around an island, I found a potential spot just before the fork where the river was widest. I thought I could see rocks on the bottom all the way across, but it was hard to be exactly sure in the late afternoon light. I decided to give it a shot. The rest of the group hadn’t caught up yet so I had been doing all the scouting and attempted crossings by myself.

I waded in. Damn that’s fast. If I lean into the current, I think I can keep my balance. I try going straight across facing upstream and moving laterally, but the current is too strong. I need to move against it to keep upright. I start moving up and across at a 45 degree angle.  The water is at my thighs. At my waist. Focus. I am halfway. I Step into the full force of the current. F*ck. I am not sure I am going to make it. I am scared, but going back is just as bad as going forward. “Hold steady!” I yell at my self. If I fall, I am going to be swept away. Keep moving. You can’t stop here. “HOLD STEADY!” I yell at myself again. Another step. If I fall, I am going to be swept away. Another step. I look up and I am alone. Completly alone. Another step. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. Fingers gripping trekking poles. White knuckled. This is stupid why didn’t I wait for everyone. Another step and another step. The current is weakening. Another step. The bank is on my left. I pull myself up, throw my trekking poles aside, and scream. I have to walk up and down the bank to burn off the adrenaline and catch my breath. When I am able to compose myself, I sit down next to the river and wait alone for the others to come.

They arrive and I yell above the rumble of the river, “it’s the worst one yet, strong current, deep, scary.” They walk the bank looking for a good crossing point, finding none. They decide to wait until the morning. “Good choice. Make sure the girls cross in a group and make sure there are guys in it. I’ll wait on this side,” I yell.

We settle in on our respective sides of the river. The setting is beautiful, but the river is terrifying. Even the deer coming down to drink don’t make me smile. I am worried for my friends and what tomorrow holds. I hope the water level goes down and they find a better crossing spot. I don’t want them to experience what I just did.