Staging ground. Kennedy Meadows. June 14.

The traditional separation between the desert and the Sierras is the
dusty old hamlet of Kennedy Meadows. It's not really a town, but more
like a jumble of trailers, abandoned RVs, a few cabins, a campground
and the general store. Thruhikers use the general store as their
staging ground for the snowy Sierras, sending packages of crampons,
ice axes, warm clothes and food to take them through a ten-day
roadless section, often with a summit of Mt. Whitney, the highest
mountain in the continental US.

Happy JO and I arrived at noon on June 13, and headed straight for the
ice cream freezer. We ploughed through a pint each of Ben and Jerrys
and then topped it off with a cheeseburger from the restaurant, which
is really just a grill on the porch with a price list brandished above
it. After eating we perused our boxes and headed to pitch our tent out
back. Many moons ago the general store would play movies in an outdoor
amphitheater, but over the years this space became "prime California
real estate" for camping. To us it looked like a tarp city--one man
free-standing tents, one piece shelters, tarps, dome tents, anything
and everything imaginable. There was even a massive junkyard to camp
in, which seemed to intrigue me more than the scenery.

We nested in our temporary home and exchanged gear tips with other
hikers, all of us ripping open packages, repacking our bags, deciding
on meals, and theorizing about the coming snow levels and river fords.

We sauntered down the street to Tom's place, a trail angel who has
graciously built-up an old Airstream RV into a Hiker Cybercafe: three
laptops and a Skype phone. Behind the Airstream are tiny pull-behind
RVs spread around like a small toy neighborhood surrounded by old
tires and burned out pickups. Hikers can stay in these for free, but
donations are always welcome.

Captain Morgan, a five-tour veteran in Iraq, and recent recipient of a
venomous rattlesnake bite on the trail, split open six chickens and
grilled them in Tom's outdoor kitchen. Many of the resting hikers
sprawled themselves across Tom's front yard, at the picnic table, in
the many hammocks or velveteen sofas plopped right on the middle of
the dirt.

We made good use of our time in KM, loading up on calories, meeting
new hikers and planning the days ahead. With excitement and a bit of
fear for the conditions ahead, we departed with GoGo, always
exclaiming "I'm so excited!" and two French guys, Dorian and Joshua,
who were going to sustain themselves for ten days on cold couscous and
refried beans. Heading into the Sierras with about 30 pounds on my
back toward the highest point on the PCT in California!