Log: Day 105 - Mile 702.2

July 26, 2016

My morning began with some great light from the sunrise. It was the perfect temperature for hiking and another cloudless day. I was in a good mood. Two hours later I passed a pair of German hikers just getting up and asked them about water. They told me there was nothing for the next 20 miles. I had just under a half liter of water left. This was less than ideal.

Thinking of my experience the afternoon before I decided to continue on, fairly confident that they must have missed something (and happy I had Rickets' emergency GPS in case they were right). The next marked water was Death Canyon Creek, 3 miles south of where I had met the Germans. The name did not inspire much hope.

An hour later the trail crossed a few stagnant puddles. This was Death Canyon Creek. I would drink it if I had to, but I wasn't convinced this was it. There was a small trail heading east along the "creek bed" and I followed that hoping to find the source. Less than 5 minutes later I came upon the spring. It was barely a trickle but fortunately someone had left a small tupperware container to scoop water with. It took about 15 minutes to fill up but I had enough to get me to the Kern River.

It was a bit of a climb out of the canyon but then all down hill to Kern River. A few clouds had formed casting some great shadows over the land below. The temperature was still moderate. My good mood had been restored.

I made it down to the valley early afternoon just as I finished the last of my water. A helicopter was making repeated passes over the valley and I was wary of forest fires. It didn't appear to have a bucket though and didn't stop to relay a message so I continued on. I got to the creek and took a moment to enjoy the shade and survey the water situation. There was a herd of cattle upstream and visible cow pies all around the bridge. Not my first choice for refilling. I picked the fastest flowing part of the stream I could find and prayed my filter had not been compromised by the frost a week before.

I had just under 15 miles left to Kennedy Meadows with no other marked water sources. My max capacity of 3 liters wasn't enough to camp dry on so I had to either camp at the bridge and finish the stretch in the morning or push on tonight, pushing my mileage for the day just over 35. I was feeling pretty good and decided to keep going.

Two ours later I crossed paths with a north bounder named Mike. He asked where I had come from and seemed a little surprised when I said Lone Pine. He had come from Kennedy Meadows where a group of hikers was warning of a 40-mile dry stretch so bad they had turned back. I told him this was BS and you just needed to read your surroundings and not rely solely on electronic maps. He agreed and we launched into a discussion about fear mongering and general lack of preparedness on the trail.

I said goodbye and kept trucking hoping to get to the general store before dark. I got to the road just after 8:00pm and twilight had turned to night by the time I got up to the store. It was a ghost town. There was no one on the porch, no campfires, and no lights on in any of the surrounding buildings. It was eerie. I dumped the last of my cow-water headed back up to sleep next to the teepee.