Rae Lakes - Lil Pothole Lake via Glen Pass & Kearsarge Pass

The Painted Lady on approach to Glen Pass

Forget everything I’ve said about mastering passes. Glen Pass was a beast. I felt ready to perish before we’d even begun the final ascent. There was only a vertical wall of massive rock, at the top I saw that it was actually an overhang. I took 10-20 metres at the time, stopping only to gasp “How awful. How criminally awful.”. Near the top I faced a snowfield at such a horrendous angle that any small slip would send me careening into jagged rocks hundreds of meters below. I would have taken a picture – but wisely remembered that I’d prefer not to be one of those people who die taking selfies. I inched my way across, jabbing my poles into the snow as makeshift ice axes. Every movement was monumental. Please don’t let me be smeared out over Glen. I just want my next resupply box, goddamnit!

Once past the snowfield I crawled shakily to the top and was rewarded – as you are – with spectacular views of alpine lakes and distant peaks.

We stayed for longer than we ever had, celebrating with our fellow victorious hikers. We all shot triumphant group photos, cheered with Snickers and dramatically reencountered the ascent (“Thought I was gonna soil my pants crossing that snow field”, “What a devil of a pass!”, “Whitney gonna be a piece of cake after this”).

A somewhat less life-threatening snowfield (check out the angle though)

Today was our last full day on trail before our highly longed-for resupply in Onion Valley. I longed so much for rest, at the same time it felt weird to leave the trail, our home for two weeks. VVR was so close to the JMT, but the resupply in Independence would take us completely off it.

After the switchbacks down Glen, we saw the sign to Disneyland: the Kearsarge trail junction.

…Accompanied by a high bear activity warning. Wonderful. No way I was gonna be eaten when I myself had hardly eaten anything for a week.

I had one freeze dried dinner, one Pro bar, and one oatmeal packet left in my bear canister. And I was ready to fight to the death for them.

Rather economical switchbacks down the south side of Glen Pass

Bullfrog Lake and the Kearsarge Pinnacles

The sandy white trail winded upwards, and the Kearsarge basin came into view. One of the most stunning sights I’ve ever seen. Snow-capped mountains, sparce green pine forest and Bullfrog Lake glistening ultramarine in the dazzling sunlight. Had it not been for the bear warning, I would have camped right there. But we felt so good, and the tiny little Kearsarge Pass was right there… So we flipped over that one too. And boom, we could see the brown dry valley and Independence below! The Sierras are a vast remote wilderness, but just one set of mountains to the east you have towns and a road and burgers and goodness!

Looking down from Kearsarge Pass towards Independence

We were even a day early. Flowing down Kearsarge was easy as a breeze, and we set up camp late in the afternoon under a huge pine next to the trail.

I had never longed for civilisation like this. I had dirt and rash in places one should never have either, and my hair was a stringy cloud of hay. I don’t think we’d had a conversation about something other than food for days.

But beneath the tall tree, I felt like my tent was a sanctuary. This life was slowly becoming internalised. Hiking and camping was becoming second nature. Every step I took brought me closer to something that wasn’t Mt Whitney, but something deeply human within myself. It didn’t matter whether the trail went north our south - it was clearly going in the right direction.