I dropped my stuff at the cabin and then continued onto the base of the ride to scout out where I would park the next morning.  When I park in places like this I always fear the potential of a broken window when I get back from an opportunistic yet unethical individual.  I found a perfect spot next to a bridge that even had a trailhead restroom.  Lots of parking and lots of people enjoying the swimming hole below in the Kern river cooling off from the triple digit temperature still scorching the evening.

As I returned to Pine Flat around 7:00pm, the Pine Flat Market was a buzz in the front yard with a community beer pong game.  It’s the mountains and rules are loose here.  Very efficient though.  Beer sold inside and beer pong directly outside.  As a marketer, I appreciated the vertical integration here even though there is probably some sort of illegal-ness to the whole thing. I think the community networking is worth the risk.

The rest of the evening was spent prepping for the ride with the help of Johnny Lawrences favorite banquet beer on the deck of the patio. 

The day started at 4:45am with a 5:45am departure and an hour drive to the bottom of the climb. Upon arrival, I was happy to see a solid number of cars parked next to the bridge over the Kern River. As a few other people showed up, it seemed to be a mix of hikers and fisherman. Again, some sort of thin assurance that there would be enough people around to keep my windows intact.

Since it was the summer solstice today, I slathered on an extra layer of sunscreen before I set off across the bridge.  Better be safe than sorry with the heat, clear skies and sunburning altitude I would be achieving this day.  It would be a long Hack-bbatical to start it out on day one being an extra toasty Tim.

The climb began immediately on the other side of the bridge. Like I said before, this one is all climb all the way to the top. 

Within a few miles I was already at 4,000 feet above sea level. Fortunately, I am normally quite good with altitude even with little acclimation.  I usually don’t feel it until somewhere between 8,000 to 9,000 feet above sea level.  So far, so good today.  Plus, the views were a good distraction and my adrenaline was high to check #4 hardest off the list at the beginning of the trip.

If these views were an appetizer for the day, I was definitely looking forward to the main course.  It was a great start to a week of Sierra climbing for sure.

As I passed 5,000 feet above sea level, I noticed an approaching turn with towering rocks on the left. I saw from a distance an interesting feature in the rocks. Somehow, in this almost solid rock formation, there was this layer of rock that ran through the whole thing at about a 45 degree angle. One of those moments where I wished I was a geologist to understand what that meant and how that happens.  But no, I just know what people like to eat.  I am very geology challenged. I didn’t take any geology classes in college. I was a broadcasting major for goodness sake. Maybe a little regret now? Years spent understanding radio commercial structure instead of how the world evolved? Just sayin’.

At 5,900 feet above sea level there were opposite messages going on.  A reminder of our California drought next to running water.  That also brought to my attention that I couldn’t see any snow on the mountain tops.  Even last year in August I could see snow up high, but not this year.  Not even a little patch.  It was super dry out here.  This is one of the reasons I did this trip earlier.  Last year it was in the middle of the worst wildfires in California history.  My thought is if I could get out earlier this year, I wouldn’t have to dodge the smoke like last year.

At 7,000 feet above sea level a solid conifer tree line set in as the primary landscape.  This landscape also carried a similar obvious paradox as it was riddled with the scars of wildfires and the resilience of the forest simultaneously. 

In a day of opposites, at 8,000 feet above sea level came the next Captain Obvious moment.  It became much cooler, but I began to feel the effects of less oxygen at this height.  I definitely perform better in lower temperatures as I have aged, but I also perform better when there is oxygen.  Still, I think I am above average on dealing with this issue. Just keep pedaling I told myself. Just keep pedaling…

This is traditionally the point where it gets exciting and painful all at the same time.  More opposites of course.  I knew I only had a few miles to go, but the difficulty factor goes up substantially.  Again, by this point I was at mile 12 and had about 4.5 miles to go.  Within reach, but it wasn’t going to be fun physically.  Especially since this climb had no breaks to this point.  Usually, a climb experiences some downhill segments.  Not on Sherman Pass.  It is up and more up.  Just keep pedaling again plays the tape in my head.  Don’t think about the legs, enjoy the scenery and who needs oxygen anyway?

Finally, I crested.  Usually, there is some sort of view or reward.  I would not be disappointed.  It was a perfectly clear day across the Kern Plateau in the Sequoia National Forest.  As the view marker pointed out, I could actually see Mt Whitney (the highest elevation in the lower 48) across the 405,160 acre plateau 40 miles away!

There was a family who had just pulled in with one of those nice Mercedes camper vans that have been popular during COVID. “The Van Life” as they say. Well, “The Good Van Life” if you are steering a converted Mercedes van as opposed to some 1980’s conversion van heralded in more than one Amazon Prime documentary I have watched. Yeah, so I am intrigued by “The Van Life”. What of it? Maybe not the restored VW Westfalia van life, but this Mercedes Van Life might be more my speed/comfort level and it seemed to be working for them. Meaning that they didn’t seem to hate each other after weeks in it together and it didn’t seem like it was going to break down in the middle of Death Valley.

The dad came over to talk to me about the climb and thought it was also pretty cool to be able to see Mt Whitney from there.  We went on to talk about how my father bought a Ford Econoline Van in 1969 and built a platform in it for summer trips with our family like they were doing.  We went to most of the National Parks, ghost towns, the Pacific Ocean, cliff dwellings, mines, and more multiple times before I was 8. It was one of the most impacting experiences in my life I shared with him. He sported a smile of a father that meant one simple thing. He maybe thought he was doing the right thing for his kids. No father actually knows if they are doing anything right. Seems like you don’t really find out until they are 30 and tell you. Until then, it is just one big guess and hope for the best.

Those trips are definitely the reason I’m still exploring and chasing adventures like this today.  Ironically, or fittingly, it was also Fathers Day.  That moment of realization gave me a pause I wasn’t expecting on this day, a smile and thanks for that father that gave so much and taught me so much.  Love that guy!  Best father ever!  It is because of those summer trips all over the Western USA I still crave to explore and enjoy these amazing places on two wheels.

To commemorate tackling #4 on the California Hardest Cycling Climbs list, there was the gratuitous selfie in front of the elevation sign at 9,200 feet above sea level.  My badge/trophy for a few hours of hard work toward a shelf full of these.

Upon the beginning of the descent, the view of the conifer tree line seemed to offer some satisfaction of a day well done. A launching point of the return to a box checked, but still a small moment in time witnessed by their almost immortal longevity. Sequoias laugh at our mortal of the moment lives. Try growing pine needles over a thousand years or so then let’s talk is what they say.

Equally impressive was the view just around the corner. Joy for the grandeur and remorse for the scars from the wildfires. Still, just like our lives this landscape has many chapters. Change is hard, but it is inevitable in our lives and in nature. This was harsh evidence of that fact yet at the same time comforting that life goes on even though it may be in a different form. The world is a resilient one. Just keep moving forward…

On the way down, I thought I would stop to catch this photo of some of the switchbacks from the climb. On the way up, it is hard to appreciate the stacked elevation until the descent. These are always some of my favorite pics.

And this one of the initial climb up from the bridge.  A nice perspective of the long, long grind.

Upon my return to the bridge, it was already exceedingly hot.  The parking lot was full and cars were waiting for a space so they could join these people in the swimming hole in the Kern River. Spent and hungry I was willing to relinquish my spot to a happy family with floaties ready to take a dip.  It was Fathers Day after all so hopefully, they made some good memories just like the memories my father created for me.

Final stats:

#4 Hardest climb in California

32.2 miles roundtrip

4,959 feet gained

Time in the saddle 04:23:09