Crabtree Meadows, Pacific Crest

The trail winds through the Sequoia National Forest, twisting around the side of Morris Peak. The incline isn't too bad, but I can feel the steady pull of elevation as I move higher. Mt. Jenkins looms to the east, and soon, I find myself passing through the western edge of the Owens Peak Wilderness. Owens Peak, the highest point in the southern Sierra Nevada, stands at the heart of it all. I pause briefly, taking in the rugged landscape stretching beyond me. It's hard not to feel small out here.

Owens Peak is named after Richard Owens, an explorer who accompanied John C. Fremont during his 1845 expedition. During the Mexican-American War (1846–1848), Owens served as a captain in Fremont's California Battalion. Fremont evidently held Owens in high regard as he went on to name a valley, a river, and a lake after him.

The trail takes on a rolling rhythm from Owens Peak, gaining and losing altitude like a slow breath. By the time I reach Sawtooth Peak, my legs are starting to feel the effort, but the changing scenery keeps me going. The path turns northwest, dropping toward Chimney Creek and into the Chimney Creek Campground, with Chimney Peak Wilderness rising to my left and Chimney Peak to my right. A lot of chimneys, indeed.

The terrain becomes drier as I approach the South Fork Kern River near Kennedy Meadows. The river, a tributary of the Kern, is the last major waterway on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada. Its banks once sheltered Native American tribes, but the gold rush of the 1850s brought settlers and conflict. It's a stark reminder of how landscapes hold the weight of history.

I take a slight detour from the trail to head into Kennedy Meadows, a small rural resupply outpost. At the general store, I pick up the resupply box I sent at the start of my hike—packed with nuts and trail mix, energy bars, dehydrated meals, and, of course, more coffee. But the most anticipated item? A new pair of already broken-in boots. After more than 600 miles (1,000 km) of hiking, I could feel the cushioning and support of my current pair wearing thin. It was time for a change.

Back on the trail, I cross the Kennedy Meadows Bridge, where the real challenge begins: an ascent of 3,300ft (1,000m) to Cottonwood Pass. The climb is relentless, alternating between wide meadows and dense conifer forests. I pause to catch my breath, the thin mountain air filling my lungs as I take in the sight of Deer Island—misleadingly named, as it's a peak, not an island, surrounded by plains and Cow Canyon.

Olancha Peak captures my imagination. From certain angles, the ridge resembles a human face—some see a man called 'Indianhead', while others see a woman lying on her back, known as 'the Sleeping Maiden'. I stare at it, trying to make out the forms before pushing on through the Golden Trout Wilderness. My legs burn as I cross Mulkey and Trail Pass, finally reaching Cottonwood Pass at 11,200 ft (3,413 m). The view is worth every step, with Chicken Spring Lake shimmering to the northwest, rocky meadows and foxtail pines to the south, and sheer granite cliffs rising to the north and east.

The last 14mi (23 km) to Crabtree Meadows feels almost leisurely, with the path undulating gently. A creek winds through the green expanse, pines standing tall around me. Just beyond, Mount Whitney's face rises into the sky.