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As the sun rose the forest just looked spectacular. The long walk ahead of us just wasn't sinking in this early in the morning. |
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Andra wanted me to take a picture of the two of us. She realized how rare this was to be all alone out here. Although it is no longer snowing, we wore our ponchos as a windbreaker and to allow them to dry. Packing wet stuff in my pack was not high on my list of morning chores. Progress up the road was slow. Although it starts flat, we need to go from about 8600 feet, to 9995 feet. Black ice was all over the road. Trying not to slip or do the splits slowed our pace to a crawl. The alternative was to trudge through the snow on the shoulder. As you may note in this picture, both of us were wearing our jackets. You can't hike in a jacket even if it's 20 degrees out. It just get's too hot. We wore then only until our body temperature came up and then stopped along the side of the road to stuff them in our packs. While storing the jackets we heard a tremendous roar coming up the road. We were on a bend in the road, but that racket could only mean one thing. Snow plows. The snow plow operators are plowing a closed road, in a closed park, and are not expecting anything on the road way. They were hauling ass. Before we even could see them we got way off the road. They came barrelling around the corner and would have had zero time to stop or turn had we been on the road. As soon as they passed I started to worry about Dave. He was still a few minutes ahead of us and with your ski cap and poncho over your head, you can't hear a damn thing. We heard them because we took all that stuff off while repacking our packs. I was very concerned, but reminded myself that Dave's footprints were on the left side of the road and the two staggered plows were clearing the right side and center. I sure was glad to see Dave a few minutes later when we overtook him. Being the ridiculously mathematical person I am, I made a special note to check the time when the plows passed us. I then assumed they'd turn around when they reached the park pay station that gets gated closed when the road closes. I estimated the distance to their turnaround point as we walked, factoring in the speed I thought they were traveling, and calculated about how long it would take for them to get there and return back to us. I warned Andra not to get out of earshot so that I could warn her when they were within 5 minutes of returning. With my heavy pack, going up hill on stretches of black ice, I could not keep up with her. I wanted to get clear off the road to be safe and not give the plow operators a heart attack. They may have seen Dave, but neither one of them noticed us. We continued up the road for a bit, but then I heard vehicles approaching from the rear. It was two park rangers in a couple of SUVs. They stopped to ask how we were doing. I explained our plan and the lead ranger asked if we wanted a ride. He couldn't take us to Ellery Lake, but he could take us as far as the pay station gate. I accepted the kind offer and we started loading our gear after they relocated some of theirs. I warned the ranger that the plows were less than 5 minutes out based on my calculations. We got inside and started to drive up the frozen road. It was but a few minutes afterwards the plows came roaring toward us. I suspect that is why the rangers drove the road that morning. I had told the ones we talked to yesterday our planned route to exit the park. I think they wanted to get us off the road and away from the massive snow plows. Either way we weren't complaining. It took no time at all to reach Tioga Pass and the locked gate. We thanked the rangers and started hiking down the pass. It is now less than 2 miles to Ellery Lake. I told Dave, that the rangers saved us so much time we now have the option to try to hike straight out to Lee Vining rather than camping another night in the snow. We all agreed we'd give it a shot and if we got too tired, we'd just camp off the road somewhere. The back side of the Sierras get dry very quickly. The moisture from storms gets squeezed out over the mountains such that the further you go down the back side, the dryer it gets. |
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We've just passed Ellery Lake and are headed down toward Lee Vining. I'm looking back up the road. The waterfall on the left of the picture is fed by Ellery Lake. The sign near the top said falling rock next 9 miles and let me tell you, they aren't kidding. We came across several boulders that weighed in the two to three hundred pound range on the road. In fact, there were some massive rocks up the slope weighing thousands of pounds hanging on by a thread. We kept a careful eye on the eroding slope all the way down. Every few minutes rocks would break loose and we'd watch as a shower of rocks collapsed onto the highway. |
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