Lower Palisade Lake - Taboose Pass Trail via Mather Pass

Nothing beats the sight of the areas around the passes as the day waxes and wanes. We strode off ready to take on whatever Mather threw at us. At Upper Palisade Lake we passed other hikers with squished morning faces, including Billy Goat, who looked like he’d spent the night in Vegas. “I’m not a morning person, I headed out of Yosemite Valley at 10 AM!” We could see the crescent-shaped ridge up ahead, and stomped up towards the final push.

The Palisade Lakes. You can see how high the pass crowns behind us from the shadow’s angle.

Now I could see what all the fear-mongering was about. There were two almost vertical snowfields where the trail should have been. Mather Pass is too steep to allow any sunlight to hit the north side until later in the day, so the snow was essentially an ice slope.

Boulders lay scattered on the mountainside, and I crawled towards them on all fours to prevent a leg from slipping into a snow pocket and breaking an ankle.

I had several slips (yes, your life does flash before your eyes), and almost fell on my face into a jagged rock. We could see Carly, Zia and the Texans high above us as we inched our way up. I munched nuts feverishly and tried to not feel too light-headed.

At last we reached the top – a tiny outcrop descending into friendly, snowless switchbacks and an immense plateau on the south side. Phew! Mather was a hairy ordeal indeed. About 30 seconds after this picture was taken, my stomach cramped up so bad I almost jumped down the pass. Two weeks of high caloric, high carb food does unmentionable things to your guts. Don’t skimp on those zero day probiotics!

I felt like I had a stomach ulcer the rest of the day. Thankfully the trail never dipped back down into the canyons, but remained high all day tracing the treeline. Billy Goat caught up with us in time for lunch. He gifted us some more wine gums, that guy had become like Santa Claus to me now. My stomach was killing me, and I whined until we pitched an early camp right after the climb up from the South Fork of the Kings River. Another PCT death site, it was now a breezy crossing. We squeezed our tent into a miniscule and exposed spot of flat ground on a ridge just above treeline. Other hikers continued on to Lake Marjorie, but I was done.

“Mummified hiker” (moi), a still-life portrait in three layers.

I had a wilderness bath & shower in the river next to our tent. After a very dinner-like dinner of chicken and mashed potatoes, I felt slightly better. We took turns reading The Art of Seduction (yes yes, I know) on Adrian’s phone. As the stars popped out, I felt like we’d made a cosy time of a hard day. You gotta take the trail as it comes at you, but you can still own the experience by doing the little things.

Laundry candidate in all its deliciousness