When I applied for my PCT permit on Jan. 15, I didn’t know that by the end of winter 2019 would be considered a high snow year. I always expected pockets of snow, perhaps larger pockets in the Sierras, but just pockets. I mentally prepared myself for the trials of desert heat and dryness, but not for the possibility of endless deep snow.
The vast majority of the PCT past mile marker 720 (Kennedy Meadows, the gateway to the Sierra, was mile 702) is covered in deep snow. Even in Southern California, the snow levels on Mount San Jacinto and Mount Baden-Powell have led to many injuries and rescue missions with hikers slipping in the snow and sliding off the side of mountains, only stopping when there is a tree or rock to break their fall. The snow is extremely dangerous and the vast majority of us hikers are underprepared, so the vast majority of hikers have taken their experiences with the snowy mountains in Southern California into consideration and decided to bypass the Sierra Nevada. The Sierras are one of the most beautiful sections of the trail, but certainly the most difficult due to higher elevations and thinner air. With all of the snow, backcountry travel through the Sierras is exceptionally difficult at the moment. Many roads into town are closed adding on 20-mile road walks to the resupply process, deep snow creates the hazard of sliding off mountains or freezing, and traveling through snow is always much slower. This means extra gear, slow progress, extreme discomfort and high levels of danger.
I have been struggling with this knowledge since I first got on trail, and became aware of the fact that I was hiking the PCT in an extremely high snow year. I kept putting off that decision, telling myself I still had a certain amount of miles to figure it out.
When I arrived in Kennedy Meadows I could put it off no longer. Crunch and Smiles are very experienced hikers who were set on going in, and they really wanted me to go with them. I wanted to go with them because I know that despite the extreme difficulty and danger it would be so beautiful and rewarding. A storm hit the Sierras just after I made it to Kennedy Meadows and at first, I took this as a sign that I should not hike into the Sierras—the storm meant even more snow. After talking with Crunch I realized the storm just meant we had time to take a few zeros before getting on the trail, and all the big mile days had made me a little sore. Zeros meant time to rest and fuel up, and also time to order the remaining snow gear I couldn’t find at Triple Crown Outfitters in Kennedy Meadows. Therefore, this storm was actually I sign that I should go into the Sierras.
I arrived in Kennedy Meadows on Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning I committed to heading into the Sierras with Crunch, Smiles, Frolic, Handtan and other friends I’d made since Tehachapi: Rabbit, Oberun, Biz, Holiday and Joey. A large group of people also made it safer. It seemed like the right call. So we went to the outfitter and I purchased an ice ax and thicker socks, I ordered some snowshoes online and vowed to come back to the outfitter the next day when they got a new shipment of crampons (a traction device for travel on snow and ice that has longer spikes than microspikes). I was feeling scared, but excited. It would be beautiful, rewarding, worth it.
I continued to have doubts and struggle with my decision. New hikers kept arriving in Kennedy Meadows and many immediately left due to current trail conditions and the multi-day storm currently wreaking havoc in the mountains, which made me unsettled. Almost every time I struck up a conversation with someone, the topic at some point shifted to the weather and I became more afraid. A week of snowstorms. I didn’t want to wait in Kennedy Meadows that long, and that would bring lots of new snow. Deeper snow to trek through, plus increased risk of avalanches.
Come Monday morning I freaked out and realized maybe others are prepared to enter the Sierra and hike in these conditions, but I’m not. And I don’t have to be. This is my hike, my story, and this doesn’t have to be how it ends. I had a deep gut feeling entering the Sierra was wrong… but I’d already verbally committed, and had snowshoes on the way. I talked with my parents who helped give me strength in amending my decision, and I got a notification from Amazon that my snowshoe order actually hadn’t gone through—a sign. I wouldn’t have waited around in Kennedy Meadows for them.
I cried a lot when I told my friends I wasn’t ready for the Sierra, and it was really hard to leave. I deeply wanted to go but knew it wasn’t right, and I’m still struggling to accept that this was the right decision for me.
From Kennedy Meadows I hitched a ride to the nearest town with a bus system—Inyokern, Calif.—got a cheap motel room for the night, and on Tuesday morning got on a bus to begin heading back home so I could make a new plan.
Fourteen hours, 3 busses and 1 train later, I arrived. I cried to my parents, I rested and researched and deliberated and soul searched about what to do next.
Today I am on a train following the California coastline down to Oceanside. I will be spending the night with good family friends and tomorrow morning I will be hitting the trail again, at the southern terminus of the PCT. Tomorrow morning I will see the actual starting monument, touch it, soak up its energy, and take off. My mission is to make up the miles I missed in Southern California since I started just after Idyllwild at mile 190. First I will hike from Campo to Warner Springs, where I will then rest briefly and resupply before heading on past mile 190 to Interstate 10 where I can get to Wrightwood on a bus and begin my next makeup section from Wrightwood to Acton. There will be “pockets” of snow on Jacinto and Baden-Powell, but I can handle “pockets”. After I make it to Acton I will re-evaluate the plan.
One step, one day at a time. This journey, though challenges, is far from over.
