Bear Creek - Piute Pass Trail via Selden Pass

Off to a moist start. Mood was sour as we examined our soaked tent and sleeping bags after a night of full-blown condensation. The curse of the single-walled tent. We had to carry the wet gear outside our packs, and we saw countless other hikers in similar dismay as we crossed dewy meadows in the chilly morning. The only small blessing was that my period, having realised our trail adventure was not over, glumly retreated. Who knew that vigorous activity could impact your cycle…

My morning hate slowly evaporated on the long climb up to Selden Pass. Who can be gloomy at the sight of shining crystal lakes, purple mountain flowers and chipmunks begging for nuts? Selden Pass itself was a sweaty but gorgeous ordeal. I could look at the landscape beneath the passes forever. Both Selden and Silver had been relatively miniscule, and not high enough to be stripped of vegetation. I knew the giant passes still lay ahead, but it felt comforting to know that we’d traversed the “baby passes” without any trouble. When you’re undertaking 340km of hard terrain, you hold on to the little victories!

We gobbled an uninspiring lunch of ramen noodles by beautiful Heart Lake, and meandered down through lush forests and meadows blanketed in wildflowers. As we made our way down endless switchbacks, losing all the altitude we had gained since leaving VVR, I couldn’t help but think that this trail could have been made slightly more intelligently. It was a constant up and down scramble, why didin’t it ever follow the side of a mountain for a while? Tomorrow was the last day before our first big pass – Muir – and I worried constantly about altitude acclimatisation. After the experience at Squaw Lake, every camp now felt momentous.

For the first time since our hike began, the afternoon brought puffy grey clouds. Hikers dread afternoon thunderstorms, but luckily we were nestled amidst sturdy pines at lower altitude. Not five minutes after we reached camp and pitched our tent, the first rain of the trail came pattering down. My Duplex did well in the rain, but it took a good two hours of rumbling thunder before we could crawl out to filter water and make dinner. The campsite at Piute Pass trail wasn’t much of a stunner; but made up for it in cosiness. We could enjoy the distant chatter of other hikers, and the sunset burst through the clouds just in time for me to eat my (unspeakably delicious) chili mac in golden light. No bugs, for once we could linger for as long as we liked to stretch, talk and laugh before crawling into bed.

My hair took almost ten minutes to brush. It’s morphed into one big dread at the nape of my neck. We smelled so bad that no amount of airing out made my tent smell like new. And yet, you slowly get accustomed to this reality. Hardships take their toll, but if you can end the day in tranquility and beauty, you feel as content as can be. Embrace the tunnel vision for all its worth, as you watch stars pop up in the night sky above your head.