I hiked the last 12 miles or so out to the Giant Forest and took two buses back to my car at Lodgepole. I bought some frozen food at the cafe and reheated it. After not seeing many people for the last few days, it was very overwhelming to see all of the tourists buzzing about.
My original plan was to drive over to Hume Lake, and see if I could watch the World Cup somewhere.
I drove through Hume Lake on my way to King’s Canyon, and there were hordes of children, walking like flocks of sheep across the road. It certainly seemed like a beautiful summer camp. The beautiful lawns and swimming pools amidst the idyllic King’s Canyon backdrop. Hundreds of smiling children. It did not seem like the kind of place one could watch the world cup game though, so I drove on through.
My original plan had been to drive towards King’s Canyon and camp somewhere. I would hike the three peaks as dayhikes over the next few days. I started driving to King’s Canyon, and slowly a new plan started forming in my head. If I could get a permit before the rangers office closed, I could head out tonight or tomorrow. I was exhausted from the 5.5 day trip, and not thinking very clearly. A large part of me wanted to rest, but logically it didn’t seem like a great idea to try to stealth camp in King’s Canyon National Park. I hadn’t been on this road for 9 years, and there seemed to be a lot of new no camping signs.
The road took my breath away as it descended sharply down to the South Fork of the Kings. At the end of the descent, tons of dynamite must have been used to put a notch in the cliffside. Massive cliffs towered up thousands of feet overhead. The river roared like no river on the Eastside.
I arrived at the rangers station thirty minutes before closing. A young ranger appeared from the small shack. He initially seemed dubious about issuing a permit this late in the day given the quota system, but once I told him where I was going, he told me he hadn’t issued a permit there all summer.
I was hoping by getting a permit in-person, I could avoid the exorbitant fees of recreation.gov and their parent company Booze Allen Hamilton. Unfortunately, the ranger asked me to write down my credit card information (cash was not allowed) to pay $20 for the two night permit. Oof. In my exhausted state, I asked something along the lines of “how much of this money is going to Booze Allen Hamilton”. He told me he didn’t believe any of the money way going to them and asked me to explain, and I went on a somewhat unhinged rant about recreation.gov, Booze Allen Hamilton and the hedge fund Blackrock. (Blackstone? I always forget). Suddenly I came to my senses and apologized for my screed. It is after all, rude to talk politics with a stranger, especially while they are on the clock and cannot say anything back. The sun and time in the backcountry must have gotten to me.
To my surprise though, the ranger seemed intrigued. He asked some follow-up questions, and even wrote Booze Allen Hamilton in big letters in sharpie on his hand. He bid me well on my trip. Days later when I next had service. I received an email from recreation.gov thanking me for my business. Turns out half of my money did go to Blackstone after all.
I drove back a few miles to the trailhead. The temperature was still quite hot down at 4,500 feet, so I was in no rush at all to head out. I went for a swim in the King’s River, and made a pot of mac n cheese. The temperature was still quite hot when I did head out. The oxygen was rick though, and I made quick work of climbing. I made it up a bit over 2,000 feet, and then I setup camp a whole luxurious hour before the sun set.
The next day was going to be a big day, but not as big as if I’d had to do all of these peaks as a day hike. I headed up first for Harrington, leaving most of my stuff at the junction. After this, the trail petered out, and the going was slow. Finally, I found myself on the final 1,000 feet of scree to the mountain, and then on the famous knife edge ridge. The views were incredible looking down on both forks of the King’s River.
It was already afternoon by the time I returned to my pack. I was hopeful the trail would be in better shape up to Kennedy Pass, but it was not. I bushwhacked for hundreds of feet at a time, and the air was filled with pollen as I did so. I sneezed and sneezed as I battled the bush. The hot mid-afternoon sun beat down on me. I persevered, and eventually made my way back up into the high country. ‘At least I won’t have to go back down that way’ I thought to myself.
Kennedy was a short walk along the ridge, and took very little time. Again, I was treated to a very unique vantage point. The Monarch divide is in a beautiful location in the range. In between the two massive forks of the Kings River, and well off the divide.
I continued traversing the divide. I only needed to two more miles to get to a lake to camp at, but at times the traverse was quite slow. I watched a beautiful sunset as I reached the lake at last.
The final day of the trip was shorter. I walked over to Goat Lake, left my pack there, and headed up Goat Peak. Once again, I was treated to beautiful views. The trail was in absolutely phenomenal shape to get down to King’s Canyon. I sped down the switchbacks, quickly loosing a vertical mile. A few miles from the parking lot, I saw my first people of the whole trip.
I quickly got a lift from a father and his son, and only had to walk a mile back to my car. King’s Canyon always surprises me with its beauty. My time on the westside was ending, but I was happy to have gotten to explore this side of the Sierra much more in depth this summer.
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