No hiking, zero at Chief Lake (mile 886)
Total PCT miles hiked: 1352
Due to our early start Keith (Starman) and I arrived at the Sierras when there was still a lot of snow, and decided it wasn’t safe to attempt a crossing given my skill level. We elected to flip up to northern California and hike southbound (SoBo) back to where we left off near Lone Pine – giving the snow a chance to melt out. During this flip the PCT milage will be counting down, but I’ll include a tally of our total milage hiked so that you can keep aprised of our progress in a linear fashion.
By what feels like the twentieth time I wake the sun is already high in the sky, warming the interior of the tent to an uncomfortable degree. It’s after 9, but that might as well be noon to a hiker. Keith, noticing that I’m awake asks if I feel up to hiking out today. I tell him that I don’t know, but the truth is that I do, I just hate making choices for the both of us – feeling like I’m the weak link in our two man hiking chain. Eventually I come to my senses and cede that I can’t hike out today. I’ll be better served by a day spent resting instead of another one mile per hour suffer fest with a clogged nose and aching chest. Though it will undoubtedly ruin our plans for this section.
And so it comes to past that I spend my first ever trail zero in a little tent next to the cool blue waters of Chief Lake below Silver Pass.
All day I slip in and out of wakefulness. The sun arching from horizon to horizon around our little dome of warmth and light. Protected as we are by jutting rock faces which, in a certain light, one could be forgiven for thinking are made of the oldest wood. All weather worn cracks tumbling down like so many broken teeth encasing the little valley. With each hour the light shifts on the world around us, highlighting one ridge and then the next. Playing with every color of grey rock, green earth, and sparkling blue waters. The snow on the light grey granite is once blinding white then dirty grey as clouds race overhead. It is as though we are held in time and space while the world races below us on towards a new day.
I’m glad you’re listening to your body! What a beautiful place to spend a zero day. Feel better soon!