Atop Forrester Pass, the highest point (over 13,000 ft) along the Pacific Crest Trail
Looking South
Phyzio + Deepak Chopat embrace.
"Richard and I got the early start that morning after our ritual morning water pump. Enjoying the valley views and colorful characters. A burly middle-aged fella named Paint Yer Wagon let us know of every beer-carrying store and bar between Lone Pine and Mammoth. Learning of our Oklahoma contingent, he recalled his time doing construction in rural OK building a pizza inn, and an ex-con in his crew words on jail: blood on my knife or shit on my dick. Very well, we'll be on our way. Up and up, Rich took the lead as Phil and I meandered on to 13,180 feet. I wouldn't be fooled this time, when we got to one peak, knew it was still aways away. Clop, clop, clop, 1, 2, 3, 4 all the way up to 957 when i jump aboard Forrester Pass, our last and highest pass of the trip. Whitney becoming real, it's faint slanted mesa-like silhouette in the distance, tallest point in the lower 48, yet blended into the landscape. Found a site on Tyndall Creek 12 miles in, quickly crowding as the novice weekend warriors pile in with their fat bellies, fancy gear and petty concerns." - Taun Taun
J Bear and El Brujo
Me (Fire Belly)
The further north we traveled along the John Muir Trail section, the more the landscape looked Martian.
Phyzio, probably resting on his laurels after an amazing victory in our stick race down a creek.
"We'd make base camp at Guitar Lake, last developed sites before Whitney up through the barkless gnarled trees in Crabtree Meadow. Curved our way past the point of no return, picking up Wag Bags to store feces in case our will power not to crap caved in. Turned burners on full throttle boiling up all the cous cous and macaroni and wonton loading up for the final ascent. " - Taun Taun
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