Cameron Dawson

This was a great hike. It was hard as hell, but awesome. I only remember fragments now. I remember we all had double water-bottle fanny packs for the hike. They worked pretty well, except that they had limited storage for food, etc. Part of the hike led us up a narrow path through a canopy of vines. We stopped there for lunch. I remember eating oranges and banana flavored power bars. Greg mentioned that nothing banana “flavored” ever actually tasted like bananas. I had to admit he was right.

Further on up in Panamint City, we stopped again under a huge smoke stack. We saw some of the homes that the miners had. They consisted of 3 mud and rock walls, presumably covered with a wood roof at the time. Just big enough for someone to lay down. Dan said that in its heyday, Panamint City sported 50 shooting deaths in 4 years (or something like that). I guess the gun was pretty much law up there. That kinda blew me away. While there, we met some guys on ATVs coming through. They asked us how far we were going. We said all the way through to Johnson Canyon on the other side. They seemed a little skeptical. Hah!

Originally, we had intended to go to the top of Sentinel peak. But our time was running short. We still had a long way to go to get to camp. So Dan told Greg to set an agressive pace. We did our best to keep up with him, but the fucker pretty much left us in the dust. It was a brutal pace. By the time we were within 100 yards of the crest of the saddle, Dan and I were nearing the point of exhaustion. We put our arms around each other and practically carried each other the rest of the way up.

At the top, we took another rest. Greg said, “This would be a good place for a USGS marker.” Then, “Oh, hey. There it is!” We opted not to go up Sentinel peak. Mostly because it was getting late. Not because we were too tired or anything. Nope, we could have done it easy. Seriously… No, seriously.

So we headed down into Johnson Canyon. On the way down, we were sliding down loose shale. We took as much care as possible so we didn’t twist an ankle or anything. But I remember we ended up kind of skiing down it trying not to be directly below one another so as not to take an ankle buster. As we descended, we saw the lush area of Hungry Bill’s Ranch. There’s a spring there, so there is a lot of vegitation.

What we hadn’t planned on was just how much vegitation. It was clogged with it. There was no good trail around it. The trail would go to the left of the brush, then cut across on hands and knees trail through the brush, then pick up on the other side for a few. We tried hiking off the trail, but the walls got so steep that out footing became dicey. Dan tried to just machette his way through the brambles, but with only a Swiss Army knife, it was slow and arduous. He eventually gave up.

We’d find the trail, then lose it, then find it, then lose it. Hours of that. Reep would be under our feet trying to find the right way. I can’t tell you how annoying it is to have a dog underfoot when you’re so tired you’re barely still walking.

It got darker and darker, and eventually, started to level off. We finally raised Skip on the radio and he said he had a camp site and was just waiting for us to arrive. I remember being so damn happy to hear from them. Skip came out and met us for the last couple hundred yards or so. And just as we were about to get back to camp, Greg twists his ankle to hell. Seemed so damn ironic. I guess that’s when it happens, though. When you think you’re home free. We were all just happy it happened there and not up at the top of Johnson Canyon. That would have made the hike much more interesting.

When we finally got to camp, we drank many beers. I think we had steak and baked potatoes. Can’t quite recall, but I know it tasted damn good. I slept very well that night.