A Smoky Finale: Finishing the Sierra Nevada PCT

August 9, 2021

After 12 1/2 days and 160 miles of trekking on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) through the Sierra Nevada Mountains, we stopped to resupply in Yosemite National Park’s Tuolumne Meadows. To date, we had experienced our share of hot days and sudden rainstorms. Now we were faced with a weather forecast of up to a half-inch of rain (and potential thunder and lightning) for each of the next three days. There was also a looming fire closure to the north of us.

We were resupplying right next to the public bus stop back to civilization, so we discussed whether we should continue our journey in light of the situation. In the end, we decided to keep going for at least five more days to the next resupply. We also opted to hike a few more miles before camping, since it was only mid-afternoon. So we set off on the next 74-mile section of the trail.

Our route (including passes and resupplies) through the Sierra Nevada Mountains

A Rainy Start to Our Section

We did not get off to a great start. Per Yosemite National Park regulations, we needed to camp at least four trail miles away from Tuolumne Meadows. And within minutes of starting our hike, the sky began to turn dark. As we walked, we encountered several groups of hikers coming toward us who were all ending their trips early because of the rain forecast. Turning to each other, we wondered if we were making a mistake. Nevertheless, we continued on.

The trail was relatively flat, and we made good time in the deteriorating weather. At about the three-mile point we began hiking along the Tuolumne River. It then started to rain steadily, and we could hear some thunder in the distance. Since we only had about a mile to go before we could look for a campsite, we decided to keep moving.

We had assumed that the path would stay in the forest, with the trees protecting us from the brunt of the rain (and potential lightning). However, we began to encounter several stretches of trail that traversed on rock slabs with no tree cover. To make matters worse, the rain intensified and the thunder became louder. I kept checking the course on my phone to determine when we would arrive at the trail’s four-mile point and be in the clear for a campsite.

Finally, we passed four miles and found a flat space shortly thereafter. We set up the tent under some tree cover to minimize exposure to the rain, but things still got pretty wet inside. After using bandanas to wipe most of the moisture off the tent floor, we got in with our dry gear. The rain eventually dissipated, and we ventured outside for dinner, stepping gingerly around the large puddles next to the tent.

A Scenic Morning of Hiking

The next morning we woke to cloudy skies. After the events of the previous day, we were concerned about what weather we would encounter as we hiked. However, the scenery we experienced in the first few hours of our 13-mile stage was unlike anything we had seen. First, we were treated to an amazing vista of rushing water and towering rocks along the Tuolumne River. We crossed the river over two large bridges.

We next passed by Tuolumne Falls. The waterfall was flowing strongly from the recent rain.

As we hiked, we encountered some challenging and uneven rocky sections that kept us on our toes.

We passed by another idyllic waterfall, known as the White Cascade.

Before the PCT turned away from the Tuolumne River, we had one more amazing view toward the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne in the morning light.

For the next few miles we hiked steadily uphill through a beautiful meadow in Cold Canyon. We also ran into a couple more hikers who were cutting their trips short. Talking with them did not help our confidence.

After the river, mountain, waterfall, and meadow scenery we had seen, the trail moved into a dense forest with towering trees.

Hiking in the forest

Fully satisfied with our morning trekking, we reached our lunch break at McCabe Creek. From here, the PCT path turned from north to west. We would spend the next 30 miles hiking in a westerly direction, traversing steeply through several canyons and over two passes. It started to rain slightly as we began our first steep ascent after lunch. At least we didn’t hear any thunder.

In the light rain, we picked our way across several open rock slab sections. Sometimes it was difficult to follow the trail, and we were glad to have Darren’s watch to help us navigate our way across.

Eventually, the rain stopped, but the weather stayed cloudy. When we reached our campsite at Miller Lake, we considered ourselves fortunate to not have encountered any more rain.

Even though it was Saturday, we were the only ones at the lake until two individual hikers arrived just as we were finishing dinner.

Trekking fr0m a Misty Lake to a Sandy Beach

After the clouds and slight rain the day before, we were encouraged to see clear skies as we watched the sunrise. There was a fine mist over Miller Lake, giving it an other-worldly feeling.

When we left at about 7:00 am, the mist was still visible on the lake.

On the schedule for the day was a climb over our tenth pass of the trek – Benson Pass at 10,125 feet. First, we descended into Matterhorn Canyon, hiking along a creek of the same name.

Leaving the canyon, we began a climb of about 1,700 feet over four miles to Benson Pass. During our morning break, we ran into a hiker (around our age) with a trail name of “Click.” We recognized her as one of the hikers arriving late at Miller Lake the night before. She was attempting to complete 1,000 miles of the California PCT.

As we discussed our impressions of the trail, Click told us that the northern 30-mile fire closure had just reopened. I was so happy about the news that the remainder of our climb to the pass seemed effortless to me.

The top of Benson Pass itself was more like a dirt mound. We hoped it meant that we were done with rocky pass climbs for the rest of our trek.

At Benson Pass, Darren took a look at his watch to check our progress for the day. Before we left home I had created gpx files for each hiking stage, based on where we planned to camp at night. Although we slightly deviated from our planned schedule almost every day, it was helpful to have real-time elevation gain and mileage data as we hiked.

We began our descent from the pass and stopped at the outlet of Smedberg Lake for lunch. There was definitely less traffic on the trail now, and we were only seeing a handful of other hikers in an entire day. During our lunch break, we took the time to enjoy the sounds of nature and the solitude around us as we ate.

When we started hiking again, the euphoria I felt from the fire closure news had worn off. I was tired and felt a little off. To make matters worse, we now had a steeper downhill section to navigate as we continued our descent from the pass into the next canyon.

We were both surprised at the very rocky section that followed. At times, it seemed like someone had just randomly thrown rocks and boulders, leaving us to pick our way around the many obstacles on the path. It was very slow-going and I became discouraged, feeling I was truly living up to my trail name of “Slo-Mo.”

After about four miles, the trail bottomed out. Even though Darren complimented me on my speed down the section, I felt pretty banged up. The plan for the rest of the day was to climb partway to the next pass. Instead, I suggested that we camp at nearby Benson Lake. I had read it was one of the most scenic lakes in Yosemite.

We needed to take our afternoon break, so Darren agreed to go to the lake and make a decision there. The lake was about 10 minutes off the PCT, and we were amazed at what we saw. Situated with towering rock formations all around it, at one end of the lake there was a large sandy beach with several campsites. Park rangers call it the “Sierra Riviera,” and we both fell in love with the idyllic scene.

Even though it was only 3:45 pm, we decided to set up our tent on the sand overlooking the lake. I figured that other hikers would soon be joining us, but surprisingly only a group of three women arrived just before sunset. Camping at Benson Lake was definitely a highlight of our time in Yosemite.

The Final Canyon Traverses and a Smoky Encounter

After over 4,000 feet of elevation loss during the previous stage, we had three climbs planned for the next day, totaling 4,000 feet of elevation gain. Our first climb was to Seavey Pass (9,129 feet). It was a steep ascent but made easier by the cool morning temperatures.

The trail became a little rockier as we started our final approach to the top.

The final approach to Seavey Pass

The steep terrain was offset by a flat section with a splendid series of lakes right before the pass.

Lakes below Seavey Pass

The pass itself was almost indistinguishable, except that the trail began to go downhill toward Kerrick Canyon. After crossing Rancheria Creek on the canyon floor, we began our second ascent of the day.

We dropped into Stubblefield Canyon, where we stopped for lunch. While eating, we began to smell smoke. The sky was generally clear, so we weren’t too worried about a major fire. However, we had our third ascent of about 1,200 feet coming up right after lunch. It was getting hot, and we could see that the trail ahead looked rocky.

As we began the climb, it was a perfect storm of steep terrain, hot temperatures with no shade, and smoke. When we got up a little higher, we saw that the smoke plume was located away from us to the south. But the smoke was bad enough to make my throat sore and Darren’s eyes sting. At least we were sure that the air quality would get better as we moved away from the plume. But I had no energy, and I struggled greatly with the climb. I had to stop several times to calm my frustration with the elements.

Finally, we began a welcome descent to Wilma Lake. Reaching the lake signified the end of the east-west canyon traverses. Soon after, the PCT turned north again, promising an easier trail grade going forward.

We camped next to a creek a short distance ahead. Click, who hiked slower than we did, passed our tent about 90 minutes later. We invited her to camp with us, but she wanted to continue up the trail a little further.

Farewell to Yosemite and Hello to Sonora Pass

The northerly direction of the trail provided us with a much easier stage the next morning. We made good time on a gentle uphill path on our final day in Yosemite National Park.

In the late morning, we reached Dorothy Lake. One of the most beautiful lakes we had seen during our 17 days of hiking, we wished our timing had included a stop for lunch or even an overnight stay. But we were only about 20 miles from our next resupply point, so we wanted to keep moving. After a short pause to take in the vista of mountains and crystal clear water, we started up again.

Just above the lake was the aptly named Dorothy Lake Pass and the border of Yosemite National Park. We thought back to 68 trail miles earlier, when we entered Yosemite at Donohue Pass in the clouds and fog. The beauty of the park had pleasantly surprised us, rivaling the JMT at times. And the steep and rocky sections of the trail challenged us as well. Leaving Yosemite signaled that we had less than 100 miles to go to the end of our trek in the South Lake Tahoe area.

After exiting the park, we entered the Hoover Wilderness in Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest. The Humboldt-Toiyabe is the largest national forest in the lower 48 states, protecting over 6.3 million acres.

The terrain became drier and the path much quicker, and we ended up going two miles further than planned. Positioning ourselves in Kennedy Canyon, after an 18.5-mile day, we camped next to the last water source for 10 miles. Click arrived and set up her camp near us right before a deer and her two fawns walked through our area.

The next morning we had 11 miles to go to our next resupply. This would be the first resupply we could not walk to, as the Kennedy Meadows Resort is located 10 miles down the highway from Sonora Pass (9,624 feet). To get to the road we needed to climb to a 10,000-foot ridge below Levitt Peak (11,569 feet), before descending down to the pass. As there was no water source the entire way, we made sure we filled up before leaving camp.

We also had a food issue. Although we had stayed on schedule with our hiking, we had eaten more because of the tough days of canyon traverses. Usually, we come into a resupply with plenty of extra food; now we had just two bars and two peanut butter packets to sustain us through the next 11 miles of hiking.

As we started our stage, we could see that the upcoming terrain was nothing like we had experienced thus far. Ahead of us was a totally barren ridge.

Darren told me he felt like he was on the moon as we walked.

The climb was gradual, and I took the opportunity to look south at one point. In the distance, I could see the expanse of mountains that we had trekked through over the past 2 1/2 weeks. I felt a great sense of accomplishment.

After reaching the ridge, we periodically checked our phones for service, as we needed to call the resort and arrange a pick-up time with them. The crowdsourced trail app we used provided a couple of locations with probable cell phone service, and we were able to make the call. We scheduled a shuttle pick-up time of 1:30 pm. Soon after we ran into Click, who also needed to resupply at the resort, and passed the information onto her.

Now in the Emigrant Wilderness, we ate the last of our food as we neared the top of a saddle and the end of the climbing.

We kept an eye on the time as we descended and could see (and hear) the highway.

About a half-mile before the highway, we had cell phone service again. Since there was no cell service at the resort, and we were early for the pick-up, we stopped to make some phone calls to our family.

Click caught up with us, and we all boarded the shuttle.

Relaxing at the Resort and Heading back to the Trail

Even though we wanted to take showers and do laundry, our first order of business after arriving at Kennedy Meadows Resort was to eat a large lunch. Then it was on to showers, laundry, and retrieving our final resupply box with five more days of food.

After spending the night at the resort, the three of us were shuttled back to the trail the next morning. We had a final 72-mile section of trekking to complete over the next five days. The earliest we could reserve the shuttle was 9:00 am, so we started climbing north at about 9:30. It was already warm, and we took it slow with our heavier weight.

After topping out at 10,500 feet, we descended into the Carson-Iceberg Wilderness.

As we dropped down in elevation we came to a pretty forest along the East Fork of the Carson River.

Hiking in the shade was welcome to us on the hot day. We wanted to go further, but the late start and our heavy packs enabled us to complete only 14 miles. But we were on schedule to finish the remainder of the section in just 3 1/2 more days, as the elevation gain would lessen as we continued north.

The shady forest along the trail

We set up our tent next to a creek, nestling ourselves in a flat spot between some trees and large rocks. Click arrived about an hour later and camped in the same location with us.

A Smoky and Disappointing Finish

The next day presented an opportunity to complete some significant hiking mileage, and we were up and ready to go by 7:00 am. Click was filtering water, so we waved to her as we departed.

We started with a short climb to a ridge. Right away we noticed that the sky was extremely hazy all around us. Soon, we could strongly smell smoke. Clearly, this was not the same experience that we had before when we saw a discernible plume of smoke. We were a little concerned but kept on hiking.

Since the Carson-Iceberg Wilderness was not set aside until 1984, there were still a few allotted cattle grazing areas. We came across several cows next to the trail.

As we hiked, we continued to smell smoke. In the late morning, we climbed a little higher and were dismayed to see that the smoke looked terrible all around us. And it seemed to be even worse to the north. We had seen no one the entire day and knew that Click was quite a bit of distance behind us.

Now greatly troubled, we took a lunch break before beginning another afternoon ascent. We agreed to try using our cell phones at the top of the ridge so we could better assess the situation. If we didn’t have service, our Plan B was to use our satellite communicator to get assistance from one of our daughters.

The climb was steep and my throat burned. I started coughing as well. Once we reached the top at about 1:30 pm, we both turned on our phones. Even though we have the same carrier (AT&T), only Darren had service. Standing on a rock to further assist his reception, Darren was able to ascertain that, due to a shift in the wind, the smoke was coming from the Dixie Fire. It was located at least one hundred miles north of us.

As Darren continued his phone searches, he learned that the Air Quality Index (AQI) at our location was 153 (unhealthful) and that it was worse to the north of us, where we planned to hike. Moreover, the forecast was for the current smoke conditions to linger for at least the next two days.

Presented with all of the information, it was painfully obvious that we couldn’t stay on the trail. It was five more miles north on the PCT to a paved road at Ebbetts Pass, and we decided to hike there. By the time we started back up, it was about 2:00 pm. We had about 1,000 feet of descent, followed by 800 feet of climbing, to reach the highway.

The downhill portion was steep, and the trail was lined with scree, so we had to be careful not to fall. We both slipped a few times, but our trekking poles kept us upright. The ridge scenery was some of the best we had seen in this section, so I tried to take it in as my disappointment at stopping our trek swelled inside me.

When we finished the descent and began climbing toward the highway, I felt like I was breathing inside a campfire. I was also coughing quite a bit. We took our time and finally arrived at the Ebbetts Pass Trailhead turnoff at about 4:25 pm.

We hoped to see day hikers returning to their cars at the trailhead parking lot and perhaps catch a ride with one of them. But there were just a couple of cars in the parking lot and no activity. So we decided to walk down to the highway and try our luck.

When we arrived at the road, I thought we had missed a turn. It looked nothing like a state highway and didn’t even have a divided line painted down the center of it. (With our attention on getting a ride, we didn’t have time to take a photo, so have inserted one from Wikimedia.)

I had read that the Ebbetts Pass highway did not have much traffic, and we found it to be true. It was several minutes before a car came into view. I put out my thumb, and the car sped past us. We waited 10 more minutes before the same thing happened again. A third car also sped by us. It was close to 5:00 pm, and I wondered if we would have to spend the night near the road and try again in the morning.

We had just focused on east-bound traffic, as our goal was to eventually get to our car parked in that direction. Given the lack of road traffic, Darren suggested we try hitchhiking in both directions. It didn’t make a lot of sense to me to head away from our car, but given the time of day, I thought it didn’t hurt to try.

The next car coming toward us was headed west, and I stuck out my thumb. To our surprise, he stopped right away. Reminiscent of the pastor who drove us 90 miles from Kings Canyon National Park to Fresno when we left the PCT five years ago, this man graciously drove us 55 miles to the town of Murphys, California, in the western Sierra Nevada foothills. We got a hotel for the night and made our way to Sacramento the next morning. There, we rented a car and drove six hours back across the mountains to retrieve our vehicle, ending our adventure.

Getting off the trail was the right decision for us, as it took me about four days to stop coughing after all the smoke we had inhaled. Before leaving the PCT, with just 42.7 miles to go, we had hiked 20 stages over 22 days, completing 268.5 miles.

Our trekking took us through two national parks and five wilderness areas. We climbed over 13 passes and gained over 51,000 feet in elevation (and lost a similar amount) on the trail. And we had seen some of the most spectacular and pristine scenery in the world while hiking through the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

The trek had challenged us with steep climbs and descents, hot sun, sudden rainstorms, difficult river crossings, and ultimately a smoky end. We had an Airbnb reservation to visit with our kids in Seattle, so we could not complete the remainder of the trek when the smoke cleared several days later. But we resolved to come back and finish the 42 miles in California as soon as possible before focusing on the final 190 miles in Washington standing between us and the full completion of the Pacific Crest Trail.

Postscript #1: We received a Facebook message from Click a few days later. She had fallen and twisted her ankle while descending the scree-filled path in the final miles before Ebbetts Pass. She was OK enough to set up camp for the night, but left the trail the next morning due to her injury and the smoke, calling a relative to come to pick her up.

Postscript #2: Any thought of quickly returning to finish the remaining California distance was dashed with the Caldor fire, which (at the time of this writing) is burning at the edge of South Lake Tahoe, where we planned to finish our trek. Our thoughts and prayers are with those impacted.