June 28th Manning Park to short of Woody Pass

Hopkins Lake

The bus pulled into Manning Park at 4:30 a.m. after a two and a half day journey from San Diego. Ex-cons, former mental patients, troubled teens, senior citizens, Latinos, African Americans, Asians, immigrants, rednecks- all my fellow travellers. Tried out my NeoAir Thermarest and Mountain Hardwear Phantom 15 sleeping bag on the floor of the Portland, Oregon bus station during an unexpected layover. The station closed at midnight, but for me and the other unlucky souls delayed out of Los Angeles the Greyhound Rep let us stay in the building. I must have felt like a rodeo bull when the gate opens after being cooped up in a bus for so long. Needless to say, at such an hour I was the only living creature moving at that time. Raring to go, it took me a little while to get my bearings as it was still quite dark. However, by 8:30 I had covered the nine miles to Monument 78 at the U.S.- Canada border. Taking just a minute to sign the register and glance at the names of other Sobos already on the trail, I was off once more. The path pretty much climbed gently up the side of the mountains with some occasional switchbacks. Easy miles. I hiked 15 miles by noon when I stopped for lunch at Hopkins Pass. I was beginning to think this would be a snap, but this marked the beginning of the snow. At first only in patches, so the trail was visible beyond. Then the patches became fields and it took some effort to find the small exposed parts where the snow had already melted. At times it was only the outer edge requiring a treacherous tiptoe along the steep slope as if I was part of the high wire act in a circus. I slipped once and went head over heels into some small pines. Banged my head just above the right ear on a stone and scraped my left ring finger. That was a wake up call and a good one. Finally, at about 6,500 feet , the trail was gone. Nothing but snow everywhere. I think I was lost for a few hours. I'd misread the map and was postholing and slipping along a spur instead of the right ridge. It was lucky for me that I picked up some footprints going in the right direction. Four miles of nerve-racking, step-by- step progress along ridges and the side of snow slopes. One small slip and you are going for a ride, you only hope it'll be a short one. I went on one of about 15 feet into some loose soil and rocks, but it's terribly frightening how quickly gravity can take over. What a relief it was to come out of the cirque of Three Fools Creek and find the trail again! A little bit of trail, gotta cross some snow, a little bit of trail, gotta cross some snow. Tired of dealing with snow chutes and lack of sleep from the bus journey, I decided to call it a day around 6 p.m. With no flat ground to speak of, I pitched my tent in the widest part of the trail I could find. Not much for dinner. Not really hungry. It's sleep I need!

Monument 78

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Hopkins Pass