PCT Day 3: Rock Pass (6/19)

Miles: 7

I wake up to a dream that it’s 10:30 a.m. and I’m getting an incredibly late start to hiking today. I check my watch and it reads 6:20 a.m. I hear Victor shuffling around and I follow suit, climbing out of my toasty sleeping bag to put away the small meager belongs around me.

I start hiking before the others and soon am on top of a ridge line. In front of me lays Rock Pass, the place Kevin (the gentleman who gave us a ride to Harts Pass) warned us would give us the most trouble. I remember him telling us hen thinks we will be fine until we hit Rock Pass. Apparently it is very snowy and very steep. you’ll be fine until you get to Rock Pass.

I look down from the ridge and Kevin is right. It is very steep and snowy. I break to wait for the others so we can tackle it together. I grab out my cold soaking breakfast cereal and shortly after, Victor and Mousetrap roll in

We scout around and decide since there is no trail we can see, we will try to zig-zag our own trail down the snow. Mousetrap goes first, me next, and Victor last. Mousetrap gets about 10 gets steps, takes a misstep, and begins a slide that goes for about 15 seconds. His slide is stopped when he hits a small patch not covered by snow. Victor and I hold our breath as he looks up and gives us the thumb-up sign that he’s okay. Victor and I muse over our options. It’s really not that safe but at this point, we can’t leave Mousetrap down there on his own. It’s too steep for him to climb up out of without mountaineering gear.

Victor and I decide to ditch our packs and slide them down the snow to the valley below us. Officially committed. Bang, bang, bang, goes our packs. I go first in scaling down the snowy mountain. I kick two steps in, dig my ice axe in, and kick step my way down the mountain. My body is parallel to the steep mountain and I’m no longer hiking but climbing. I’m soon drenched in sweat but making steady progress.

As I work my way down, I retrieve the hip belt to my pack that came off during the pack slide. Victor comes in after me and is much less fortunate. He lost his phone and water filter. When we all meet down at the bottom, I give him a bottle of my emergency iodine tablets for filtering water. Mousetrap gives him one of his two water bottles to drink out of. Victor says he will worry about the phone later.

At some point during this whole scene, Lisa and Tommy turned around to head back to Harts Pass Campground. The group has gone from 5 hikers to 3. It’s Mousetrap, Victor, and myself.

We continue our slow progress further and further north. I’m mostly out in front of the group, traversing steps into the mountain and doing a controlled glissades at various points. Mousetrap is letting me use his trekking pole which has an ice axe attachment to it. It’s perfect for digging into the snow to control your speed when sliding down, as well as self-arresting when needed.

At last, we spot Hopkins Lake where at some indeterminable point it was decided that was our camp spot for the night. The switchbacks down to the lake are mercifully snow free and we cruise down to the lake. We make camp and I go about cooking dinner, lighting my little stove to rehydrate my meal. I have dehydrated marinara on the menu tonight and it tastes unbelievable.

After dinner, I catch a second wind and decide to build a rare fire. It’s less out of comfort and more out of necessity. I confer with Mousetrap and Victor that they both also hold zero pairs of dry socks and sopping wet shoes. My gloves are also soaked and putting on wet clothes tomorrow morning, while surely facing more snow, sounds as awful as can be.

After some fiddling, I get the fire started and lay my stuff out carefully around the edges. Mousetrap is passed out in his tent, wet stuff be damned. Victor joins me in collecting fuel for the fire and we carefully watch our stuff. Melted shoes would be death out here, but our stuff is so wet that they need to be close to the fire to have any chance at drying. Victor retreats back to his tent at some point and I stay up for a little longer, watching the fire die down. Well, I think. What a day. Hiked 12 hours and made 7 miles of progress. I wonder how much snow tomorrow will hold.