Wild Traffic Jam On the PCT

I have nothing but anecdotal evidence to support this, but judging by all the Pacific Crest Trail thru-hikers I saw while backpacking on the PCT from Edison Lake to Florence Lake in the Sierra Mountains, the book, Wild by Cheryl Strayed, has inspired an awful lot of people to take off for five months and walk from Mexico to Canada. For most of the 40 miles I hiked, they streamed up the trail, walking south-to-north while I and a friend, Allan, went north-to-south. Allan has been going on annual John Muir Trail trips, gradually piecing together the entire route a few miles at a time. And in this case, the PCT and JMT followed the same trail. According to him, he usually sees more JMT hikers, but this year, at least, the adventure to be on is the PCT. Of course, if you were just looking at my pictures, you would think we had the mountains all to our own. Trust me, for every picture here, some PCT hiker had just passed by or was about to blast through.

Traditional trailhead picture taken by my wife, Gloria.

Hiking by Edison Lake.

Mono Creek where we camped on the first night.

Climbing Bear Ridge.

Allan coming up the Bear Ridge trail.

The view south (more or less) from Bear Ridge.

A relic of days past: a PCT emblem nailed to a tree. Just don't see those anymore.

Allan crossing a creek that feeds into Bear Creek.

A meadow on the climb from Bear Creek to Marie Lakes.

Our camp at Marie Lakes.

My tent under the stars at Marie Lakes.

Marie Lakes in the morning.

Selden Pass, the highest point on our trip at 10,800'.

Passing Heart Lake which is just below Selden Pass.

Looking down to Sallie Keyes Lakes.

Yours truly hanging out at Sallie Keyes Lake where we spent the third day.

Evening scene at Sallie Keyes Lake.

Allan passing a trail sign.

Meadow scene along the trail that took us from the PCT/JMT to Florence Lake.

South Fork of the San Joaquin River, our last camp.

To Lug or Not to Lug (a big honking lens)

I just came back from a five-day backpacking trip in the Sierra Mountains, cruising along a few miles of the Pacific Crest Trail/John Muir Trail. I made the unfortunate mistake of weighing my pack before I left and it came to exactly 50 pounds. I seriously considered ejecting some of my camera gear and I was especially eyeballing the brick-like weight of my 70-300mm lens. I originally packed it for the off chance that we might run across a black bear, something I haven't really gotten a decent picture of . . . ever. So, I had to decide how disappointed I would be if I came across said ursus and only had my standard 24-70mm to capture it. Unless I was practically face-to-face with the bear (something I didn't really want), it would probably only occupy a few pixels worth of space in the picture. And I'd go home thinking, "If I had only brought my long lens!"

So, in a moment of disregard for my body's comfort, I stuck with the lens and the heavy pack. Glad I did. We didn't cross paths with any bears, but more than halfway through the trip, I was finally able to use the lens and get some nice shots of other fauna occupying the mountains, including more shots of fish than I've ever attempted before. I'm not sure if this is the lesson or not, but I at least confirmed that some times it's worth it to break my back if that means getting some nice photos.

A rainbow trout in Sallie Keyes Lake about to gulp down a plump bug of some sort. If you look closely, the fish has a fly it could have gone for as well, but it zeroed in on the bigger meal.

A wild turkey (?) I happened to notice off to the side of the trail. I hid behind a tree, took off my pack, slapped on the long lens and went hunting. It was clear the bird had a personal space issue and as soon as I got too close, it moved away.

A bald eagle winging off from its nest.

We crossed the South Fork, San Joaquin River and then camped on the shores where I came across these fish apparently trying to jump past some falls so they could (again, I'm guessing) continue going upstream to spawn. This clearly is not something you see every day and would have been just a memory if I hadn't brought my long lens.

Contest Winner

I just learned that Backpacker Magazine chose the picture below as the winner in their "Adventure Travel" photo contest.

I have mixed feelings about this shot. Above all else, I'm proud of it and really like the contrasts between the pillowy snow above, the chunky rock, and the silky water. But behind all that is tragedy. The story: I was hiking the Pacific Crest Trail with my wife, Gloria, and a friend who had come down to California from Tacoma. On the second day of a five-day trip, we were walking through the Desolation Wilderness (west of Lake Tahoe), swatting mosquitoes and feeling a little broken down, not quite trail hardened. And then we saw this cave where the creek had carved a tunnel through a snowbank. I suppose it's fortunate that I was going old school that trip and brought my Mamiya 7II medium format camera loaded with Kodak Portra film. Nothing else would have preserved the huge dynamic range of the scene quite like print film. So I plunged into the cave with a tripod and 43mm lens on the camera and worked the scene, shooting low angles, high angles, looking down one direction, down the other. Had a hard time protecting the camera from dripping water and I was always conscious of how slippery the rocks were. I took this shot as I was exiting the cave and turned around for one last look. The exposure time was about five seconds. I knew this was probably the best of the best and in a stupor of self-satisfaction I stepped outside the cave and promptly lost my footing on a wet rock. I dove into the creek which was deeper than it looked and could feel my body being swept downstream. I managed to jab the tripod into the creek bottom and stand up. The first thing I looked at was the camera. The lens had smashed on a rock and the body was soaked to the point of being inoperable. And then I looked up to see a group of hikers staring down at me flabbergasted as if they couldn't figure out whether to help me out of the water or laugh. They did neither.

I had to go the rest of the trip without taking pictures and I was miserable.

But at least I got this picture . . .