Theodore Solomons Trail day 6, Avalanche Pass to Roads End

Skipping ahead

I rose from my soggy camp in the soggy forest below Avalanche Pass and started the climb. I made the pass in good time and found a gaggle of Outward Bounders there, teenagers groggily beginning to stir. I chatted a bit with the leader and she helpfully pointed out that I was headed the wrong direction, the trail not dropping down from the saddle but traversing it to the Sphinx Creek drainage.

I strode down through the forest, open up high but increasingly covered with wet underbrush as I descended. My hopes of hiking dry-footed were already dashed before I reached the first overflowing stream crossing.

After that, the trail parallels Sphinx Creek then spills over the sheer granite walls of Kings Canyon.

The trail is highly engineered here, stair stepping down cracks between the exfoliating rock leaves, at other times drilled into the rock itself. No doubt it was built in the 1930s when America was a much wealthier nation and could afford to fund its National Parks.

At the bottom of the steps Bubbs Creek was violently thrashing its way down canyon, a spectacle made enjoyable by the presence of a very solid bridge spanning the tumult.

The trail flattened out at the confluence of Bubbs and King and obese day hikers began to appear. I greeted all and chatted with a few, knowing that I would need a ride down to Cedar Grove once I got to the trailhead.

I stopped in at the ranger station asking about the trail ahead (high water likely at Simpson’s Meadow, trail closed by a rockslide) and if there was a shuttle in the Canyon (no). Even though the ranger was heading out to lunch, he stopped to hear about the TST and the route it takes through SeKi. He said my best bet for a ride was to sit right there and hit up returning day hikers.

As it turned out, a pair of returning day hikers were sitting nearby, overheard us, and graciously offered a ride. They were North Carolinians making their first visit to the Sierra, staying first at the Yosemite lodge and now at the one at Cedar Grove.

They dropped me off at the visitor center which had my resupply box and the unwelcome news that one of the campgrounds was closed and the others were probably filled up. If I hustled I might find a spot at the walk-in only campground.

Although it was only 1pm and although I hustled, there were no spots left. I would have to stealth camp.

A picnic table and flush toilet would have been nice, but in truth the campground was gross: there was a lively competition to see who could cram the most stuff–pavilions, trailers, generators, living rooms worth of furniture, giant trucks–into each minimally shaded and separated campsite. I would fare much better in the woods.

I retreated to the village where I found my purchase of a sandwich did not merit revelation of the lodge password, reserved strictly to overnight guests. I needed to start working on my skip ahead plan and didn’t want to hitch down to Tulare just to get service.

A group of serious-looking men were huddled around laptops at the next table and the bored-looking wife of one asked if I were backpacking. We chatted and I of course got around to mentioning my predicament. She went over to the receptionist, explained they needed the password for their project (using drone to 3D map a dangerous curve in the highway), wrote it down on a scrap and discretely passed it to me so as not to arouse suspicion.

For future TSTers, here it is : SeKi2014. Since it obviously has not changed in 5 years, it may be good for a few more years yet.

I texted my brother who immediately replied “yes!”when I asked if he wanted to come up to camp and fish for a couple of days and then drop me off at the next trailhead north. Yay for brothers!

I spent the rest of the increasingly rainy afternoon charging my electronics, drinking beer and chatting with another hiker. We met when the counter called out “burger for Drew” and we both jumped up. Other Drew had just finished hiking the High Sierra Route, a trailless passage over the spine of mountains that separate the TST and the JMT. Not surprisingly, it is completely snowed in except for the near-vertical rock scrambles. He is definitely a badass.

He grew excited when I told him about all the bushwhacking on the TST and had me draw out the route on his map of the park. Sounds like he might be out here next year. Maybe the rivers will have dropped by then.