King's Canyon National Park has been a dream ride for several years. There were numerous obstacles but finally, I had made it. This was a solo trip as my partner bailed out at the most beautiful ride of the whole Expedition. After rearranging all the horses and gear for the ride alone, we rambled up to the snowy peaks above Bishop, CA in September. As I rode over the 12,000-foot pass, I was awestruck by the scenery ahead.

King's Canyon was pass after high pass with breathtaking valleys between. Riding solo turned out to be easier than I had expected. There were much less problems, no complaints and a spiritual closeness with Nature. Instead of a partner chewing me up, I had bears to worry about. One stole a bag of food and charged me when I tried to retrieve it. Another was so aggressive that I had to pack up and leave. That fearsome bruin bit the foot of a neighboring backpacker who was sleeping under the stars.

My biggest worry was Forester Pass. On the way to this formidable pass, I talked with a professional packer who brought in a large group. He said, "I've been packing here for 26 years and I wouldn't take my best mule over Forester." I considered not traversing the pass, but couldn't stop myself from riding in that direction… maybe out of curiosity. Soon, I was at the base and found myself riding to the top! The trail was insane. It's actually chiseled out of a sheer cliff. I made the 13,200-foot pass safely and found a wonderful camp on the Bighorn Plateau.

The sense of accomplishment I felt was incredible. I had tackled one of my biggest fears. Off in the distance, Mt. Whitney was in sight and the thought of riding to the top was overpowering. Continuing on the John Muir Trail, I met up with a group of British Soldiers on vacation who were doing the J.M.T. We were all on our way to the highest point in the lower 48 states, Mt Whitney. When I arrived at the base, I made camp by a beautiful tarn. That night I had nightmares of the climb that woke me in a hot sweat in the crisp alpine air.

I started up the mountain and rode through the famous Discovery Pinnacles very early. The Pinnacles were tough but things got tougher at Trail Crest. I had to decide whether to turn back or go for the summit. Heart pounding, I turned the horse towards Mt Muir to ride the ridge of Mt Whitney. Parts of the trail were extremely narrow with sheer cliffs of more than a 2000-foot drop. There were many places I wanted to turn back but it was too narrow and severe to turn around. I reached the point of no return and had to go for it.

My head was spinning on the knife blade ridges but the summit was even worse. There was nothing but boulders and talus where a horse could easily break a leg. Valerosa, my Peruvian Paso, was so strong and willing. There was no real trail, just a network of areas where climbers had scaled. I had to lead the horse over the boulder field slowly, analyzing each and every step. The horse did fine and listened closely to my commands. I was gasping for air at the 14,000-foot elevation, even though I spent several months at high elevations.

Soon the Smithsonian Shelter at the summit was in view and tears of joy filled my eyes. Wow! I made it to the top of Mt Whitney, 14,494 foot on horseback. Going down was tough but Valerosa never missed a beat. The Peruvian Paso has tremendous lungpower, even in the thin air of Mt Whitney. After this feat, I met some wonderful horse packers from the Porterville area and rode out with them before the winter snow arrived. I stayed in Alpine Village for a month before riding out toward Hollywood.