At 7:30 AM, I loaded my backpack, my walking poles, and other equipment into Robin’s car. At her front door Bear, her dog, barks, and the cat tries to squeeze out. Closing behind the commotion of leaving, we take off for Bishop, CA. Six miles into our 316-mile journey, we stop at Starbucks for coffee and eggs. The eggs tasted suspiciously weird leaving Robin’s stomach unsettled.
With little traffic, the drive was easy. Highway 108 was scenic, windy and forested and took us down to Highway 395. We stopped for lunch just before the turnoff to Yosemite. Down to Bishop, Siri led us to Robert’s house. His friend was going to join him for an overnight up Piute Pass. This was comforting to us because Robert was going out of his way to shuttle us. It’s nice that he had another purpose,
We followed the guys for thirty minutes to South Lake. We packed our gear in their trunk and left Robin’s car in the parking lot waiting for our trail exit into said parking lot in eight days’ time. We continued the drive for twenty minutes to North Lake. The confusion of the hastily leaving of belongings and comforts behind unnerved us. We were exiting someone else’s car in a rushed manor. They were off and away as we were still checking our gear and using the outhouse one more time. What had we left behind? Under our too-heavy packs, we struggle for each breath.
During our drive, the guys consulted us about our experience with altitude. As they ticked through symptoms, Robin told them she had climbed Kilimanjaro. I silently recalled how I suffered last year climbing Donahue Pass which is almost 1,000 feet shorter than Piute Pass. As they listed symptoms, I seemed to have each one.
There wasn’t much time to dwell because it was later than we planned to leave. My hope in leaving in the afternoon was to lop off a couple to miles before we officially started and to sleep at an elevation gain that took us from 4,150 feet in Bishop to almost 10,000 feet on the trail. After dragging ourselves and packs 1.5 miles, we wanted to just breathe. We ducked behind some trees in poor terrain to pitch a tent.
It was rocky and slanted which caused silent tension between the two of us. Robin had never bought into my idea of leaving early, and now we’re suffering the wrath of a bad campsite. She had implored me to stay in town. I hoped this small jump on our permit would be a big boost to our endurance. I couldn’t take back that decision now.
Mountain Peace 