The day I tried to Live I woke the same as any other day, except a voice was in my head, It said Seize The Day – Soundgarden
In July of 2021, I dropped Ronda off at Pinecrest Lake so she could do the family camping trip with her extended family. I spent the night and the next morning woke up, headed over Sonora Pass to 395 and headed south to Lone Pine for a quick backpacking trip to the Cottonwood Lakes. It was a quick trip, but the beauty of the stark southern sierra’s, mainly above treeline beckoned me enough to know I wanted to take Ronda back here asap. The road to Horseshoe Meadows has been described as one of the scariest roads in America. I wouldn’t go that far, but it sure feels like you are on an airplane, because you go straight up really quickly, and soon, the high desert is thousands of feet below you. The other amazing thing about Horseshoe Meadows is the trailhead is at 10,080′ so a lot of the climbing is done by vehicle.
So on June 7, 2022, Ronda and I set off from our house to Lone Pine, where we got to our hotel, walked across the street for some mexican food and went to sleep. The next morning, a mandatory stop is the Alabama Hills Cafe for the best coffee and breakfast in town. Soon enough we were at the Horseshoe Meadow parking lot, packs on, and on trail. We made quick work of the initial trail. After a creek crossing, we stopped so Ronda could put some duct tape on her feet to prevent blisters. I was feeling a little of the altitude and had a slight headache, so I went into my first aid kit and popped a couple Tylenol. Soon enough we started to climb in earnest towards Cottonwood Lake basin. I noticed I was becoming very tired. When we stopped for a snack along a cool flowing creek, I had a hard time staying awake. I was so comfortable and relaxed. Eventually, Ronda asked for some Tylenol. When I opened up my first aid kit, I realized why I was so tired. I didn’t take Tylenol. I opened the pill bottle next to the Tylenol and ended up taking Hydrocodone. So what I thought was four 200mg Aleve pills was actually 4 hydrocodone pills! That was kind of a big blunder. But it explained why I felt so loopy. I would soon learn this would be the first of many blunders and valuable lessons, even a seasoned backpacker can learn from.
Eventually we arrived at our camp, the inlet of Long Lake. We found numerous suitable sites, but Ronda liked this one spot, on a ledge near the inlet stream, and a quick 100 yard walk to get back on trail the next day. We set up camp. The mosquitos were awful, so I dove into the tent first to get my sleep system set up. As I unloaded my pack, to my horror, I did not have my ground pad. It was not in my bag and I clearly forgot to pack it. Sleeping on hard ground for three nights was going to suck, to say the least. Ronda jumped into the tent next to get herself situated. However, when Ronda unpacked her bag, she learned she was not only carrying her ground pad, but somehow, mine was in there as well. I honestly don’t know how that happened! To this day she’s convinced I did it on purpose! The rest of day one was uneventful, but the mosquitos were out in force. Usually, they don’t bother me, but these buggers were pretty aggressive. I was still so loopy, that went we entered our tent to go to sleep, I realized my sleeping bag was opposite of Ronda. Instead of fixing it, so our heads were together, I crashed and slept with my face near her feet the entire night. Day one was in the books, and one for the ages.
Those are mosquitoes!
Day 2 was going to be a good day. I woke up and felt great. I guess that’s how you’re supposed to feel when you’re no longer high on opiates. We did our morning routine, breaking down camp, eat breakfast, drink coffee, and filter water for the day. Our morning objective was New Army Pass, a large pass, over 11,000′ in elevation. We made quick work of the approach to the bottom of the pass, when we encountered two older guys, looking up, trying to figure out the route. As I passed them, they asked if I wanted a shot of whisky. Ummm…. It was about 8am, and we were at over 10,000′ in elevation with a 30 pound backpack on, about to climb our asses off.
New Army Pass is somewhere up that wall to the left
NO, I DID NOT WANT A SHOT OF WHISKEY. We spent some time talking to them. They turned out to be two pretty solid dudes. We passed them. The climb started off steep with pretty good exposure. One slip and at the very least, you were being evacauted by helicopter at the best. I know my wife well enough that when she’s faced with these challenges, she takes off. And that’s exactly what she did. She was gone. Straight up the trail. So I climbed at my own pace. I lost sight of her up the switchbacks, and the two guys were well below me. I paced myself and soon enough caught up to Ronda, who was seated about 20′ below the pass. There was still a small snow cornice, and you could not get to the pass. She was worried we would have to turn around. I went up ahead, and she was correct. There was a two to five foot cornice, that was possible. There was also a ledge on a rock, that was about the size of my foot. If I could land on that rock, I could get around the cornice, and be safely at the top of the pass. The downside was, if I missed that rock, they would be calling the helicopter to collect what was left of my body, 2000′ below me. While trying to figure out our options, the two guys caught up to us. One of them checked out the cornice, and he went for it. He made it, but yelled back down that it was scary as shit and not to do it. I saw that I could scramble up rocks to the pass. The exposure was pretty gnarly, but I’m not afraid of heights, so I put on my pack and started climbing at minimum, a class three route. I was cautious, didn’t look down, and soon enough was at the pass. I took off my pack and downclimbed back to Ronda. I put on her pack, and she followed me up my route. Soon enough, she was safely at the top.
Looking up at the snow cornice. We climbed straight up, avoiding the snow, and getting to the pass directly above us
The last of our foursome followed us and we were all standing on top of New Army Pass, safe, and in one piece. The views were amazing. Mt. Langley, a 14,000′ peak was right in front of us to the north. We hung out with those two guys, and this time when they offered me a shot of whiskey, I accepted! Cheers! We said our good by’s and Ronda and I were off, down canyon to Soldier Lake.
Looking North from New Army Pass at Mt. Langley, 14,032′; The 7th highest peak in the Sierra’s
On top of New Army Pass
New Army Pass is to the left of this photo. We were dropping down into the forest down below.
We were out of water and it was extremely hot. Dehydration set in. We were both dragging, and the worst part is we passed water a few times on trail, but I kept thinking we would hit the streams showing on my topographic map. Unfortunately, we were in a drought year, and those streams were all dry. Finally, we dragged into Soldier Lake, dropped our packs, and tanked up on water. After hydrating, we set up camp on a peninsula, and had a relaxing evening. We were safe, but exhausted. I’d pay the price for my dehydration the next day.
Day 3 was supposed to be easy (in theory). I wasn’t hungry that morning, so I ate a couple bites of some brown sugar granola, drank some coffee, and thought I’d be fine. MISTAKE. We started off southbound on relativly flat terrain and after a few miles hit the Pacific Crest Trail. We were to hike to Chicken Spring Lake for our last nights camp. When we got to the PCT, we ran smack dab into a throng of PCT hikers, known as “The Bubble.” There was a constant stream of them and were all pleasant. We met many people from all over the world. That part was cool. What was not cool was I was bonking. Lack of calories, lack of water, sun beating down on me had taken its toll. The PCT kept climbing and I couldn’t even manage my normal 168 steps. I was barely doing 50. Poor Ronda was waiting for me and each time I caught up to her, she was ready to go, so adding to my misery was I was trying to keep up with her, and failing. This was how my entire day went.
Looking down at Big Whitney Meadow and Siberian Pass
Eventually, after this long laborious slog, I turned a corner and looked down on Chicken Spring Lake. The eastern shore of the lake looked like a music festival. There were tents everywhere! We walked opposite of them, on the east side and found an absolutely amazing site, overlooking the lake and had no one around us. I was completely exhausted, and struggled to setup the tent. I ate some food, drank a ton of water, and slowly walked down to the lake to clean up. It was then that I learned that Chicken Spring Lake is the first lake the thru hikers of the PCT come across when they are headed northbound. After starting at the Mexican border in California, they march north thru desert until they start to climb into the sierras. After a few days they arrive at Chicken Spring Lake. The hikers were hilarious. Some of them literally took off their packs, stripped out of their clothes and jumped into the lake completely naked, with zero fucks given. We saw more naked bodies that i cared to ever see. What an end to a day where i felt broken!
Our camp at Chicken Spring Lake
Day 4, I woke up feeling great. Ronda and I were soon on trail. It was to be a mostly downhill day. How often do you get to walk down hill to cross a 10,000′ pass. That’s exactly what happened when we left Chicken Spring Lake and walkd to Cottonwood Pass. We made good time and by noon were back at our car, in clean clothes, and headed down into Lone Pine for some real food before we began the 5 hour drive home.
Cottonwood Pass, 11,160′ elevation
Lessons learned: 1: keep any narcotics away from all other pills. 2, be meticulous about packing your gear. 3, Backpacking is all about calories, recovery and hydration. Do not skip any of those things or you will pay the price. On day two, I was extremely dehydrated and the heat from hiking in the sun all day beat me up. So the next morning, instead of loading up on calories and water, I figured I’d be fine and tough it out. That was an epic failure.
Regardless, as stupid as some of those mistakes were, and horrible this trip may have sounded, it was actually a great trip. The southern sierra’s are much rockier and have a different feeling than northern sierra’s. If I had my choice, I’d spend all my time in the southern portion. I love the high alpine scenery. We met some amazing people, and as always, the worst day on trail with my wife is better than the best day on trail solo.
