Don't Pass Us, Bros
Had a great night of sleep and woke up at 5 a.m. ready to jam again. We cruised down off the mountain and very easily beat our 10 x 10 (11.75) and were feeling great as we charged toward Walker Pass.
*10 x 10 is one of our rules for now where we try to make sure we've hiked 10 miles by 10 a.m.*
Once again we got to eat lunch at a picnic table around 11:30. We love eating lunches on picnic tables, and 11:30 seems to be the prime time lately. As we relaxed at the campground we talked to others as they prepared to attempt a hitch to Lake Isabella. We finalized our decision not to and were happy about it as we pressed on.
On the other side of Walker Pass the wind picked up again with a vengeance as we cranked out switchbacks to climb back up into the mountains, and we were continuously pushed around by gust after gust of furious wind. What we didn't know was how much it was going to intensify. At the same time the terrain was quickly becoming some of the most perilous we had yet crossed. The trail narrowed and became more shaley as it continued to climb around and up Mt. Jenkins, forcing us to watch each and every step lest we wanted to take a tumble to the desert floor far below.
With each gust of wind the fear & pressure mounted. Constant vigilance was required since it came from all directions. The moment we leaned too far into it to fight it, it would switch course & blow us in that very way. At many points one of us had to check the other to ensure safe passage.
Eventually (and so thankfully!) this catwalk came to an end and soon we found ourselves switching back and forth towards the floor again with an old foe in the fronts of our minds - water. We had left ourselves a doable, but intimidating, distance from water. Back at Walker Pass (around 14 miles into the day), we had seen that the next reliable water wasn't for 18 miles, willingly forcing ourselves to break the 30 mile mark.
As we neared it (the mark) and just crossed it we were losing steam fast. Despite the accomplishment, we were tired from up and down Jenkins, the heat, and the sheer mileage. Just when we thought we had a campsite right around 30... BAM. TAKEN. As we saw that we also noticed a group of 3 coming up behind us so we hit the gas. We desperately felt like the needed first dibs on a site.
As we were cranking up the hill we heard a "Hey! Excuse us!" from right behind and were basically forced to stand aside on a narrow trail as these 3 others jammed past us. Big mistake.
My dad and I are both very competitive people, and even doubly so when we feel like we've been wronged. Sprinkle in the relative lack of interpersonal competition on the trail and the uphill terrains (where we are strongest), and it was bad news for the next 4 miles for them.
I was like a bloodhound, if a bloodhound could drive and tailgate the s*** out of you and also saw you flipping him off. I was right on the third's heels, and there was nothing that was going to even let me drop back an inch. I hoped my dad's feet were ok, because he was along for the ride (apparently I was too tunnel-visioned to hear him say, "Stay on them!" under his breath to me). As I clicked my trekking poles on rocks near third's heels I kept daring them in my head to stop for water so we could blow by again. I could've gone another 15 miles if it meant staying right on them.
Fortunately it was closer to 4 miles when they pulled over for water and to preliminarily claim a campsite. As we breezed by all I said was, "Quite the climb, huh?" and kept trucking.
We ended up going 34 miles on the day, camping in a little nook of the Spanish Needle River with a young couple from Oregon. As we reflected on the day we knew we wouldn't have made it nearly as far or nearly as fast without those 3. Thank you haters.
