New Valley Hills

Returning to trail. Most things washed.

Third pair of shoes started.

I walk a mile to the free shuttle which’ll take me 5 miles by road to Horseshoe Lake trailhead, then a 3 miles walk returning to the PCT. I bump into James again, standing at a bus stop on the other side of the road. His bus takes him right up to the PCT and 5 miles up further up trail than mine. I cross the road!

The buses are confusing – services start before the ticket office opens, the driver takes exact money only, and seems to be on the way to an early heart attack the way he is constantly stressed at his job – each customer has to stand at the roadside until called into the bus to buy a ticket, and conversation of people in the queue seems to be an immense distraction for the driver. Eventually we get on, James paying for my ticket as he has the right money.

Mammoth is a huge ski resort. Half way up the road we pull into a ginormous hotel with ski lifts launching into the heavens. Out of ski season it’s walking, cycling and horse riding. A massive queue of day hikers squeezes on and we trundle on upwards.

I walk with James for the day, hearing his hair raising tale of THAT river. Martin fell in the river cracking his ribs. They reversed back to starting bank where Martin professed he could not breathe without severe pain. The SOS button is pressed and the group wait 12 hours for the helicopter extraction after which they abandon fording and do the over the top route I’d done recently. We agreed it was a tough diversion though fortunately they met a ranger at the top who was escorting a lost day hiker back down. The ranger brought them all down safely. Martin had been assessed and strapped up, told his complex rib fractures would take 3 weeks to 3 months to heal. He’s likely off trail completely now.

I’m overtaken by One Step, James’s slowest hiking buddy.

I camp and have dinner with James at the lake. So many mosquitoes swarming it’s like watching a murmuration of starlings. I profess to James I’m finding it a slog, with each recent day feeling like a forced march.