JMT Hiking Day #5: Thousand Island Lake to Reds Meadow Campground. August 9, 2014

**Around 16 miles with 800-1000 feet of elevation gain.

***Some of the day's photos were accidentally deleted during the evening of August 9.  As I frantically used my iPhone to search the internet for information on High Altitude Pulmonary Edema, my clumsy fingers hit the camera button more than once and somehow managed to erase a few images.  My apologies for this post's relative lack of pictures.

We awoke to cold drops of water falling on our faces.  Again.  The condensation was much worse this morning.  I roused the girls and we took turns carefully moving all our belongs out of the tent.

We were ahead of schedule; our reservations for Reds Meadow Resort were for August 10 and 11.  We therefore decided to have a short hiking day, since we didn't want to arrive at Reds a day early.  The morning sun warmed the rocky banks of the lake, so we took advantage of the light and draped our tent over some boulders.  We took our time eating breakfast and enjoyed wandering up and down the rocks.  I took a trip down to the water where we'd heard the lapping sounds, hoping to find some prints on the sparse sand.  No such luck -- there were no prints of any kind.

Connie appeared and walked down to the water; as she filled her bottles, she told us where she had camped, which happened to be about fifty feet higher from where we had pitched our tent.  We spoke for a while, then she moved on.  She was hoping to reach Reds Meadow Resort by early evening, so she needed to get going.  We casually waved goodbye and continued to lounge.

10:00 came and went before we moved on.

Hiking away from Thousand Island Lake

 After an initial ascent, we hiked downward, first toward the beautiful Emerald Lake, which looked like a fantastic place to swim, then toward the even more picturesque Ruby Lake...which also looked like a fantastic place to swim.  It was nearing midday by the time we reached Garnet Lake, which most definitely looked like a fantastic place to swim.  So we swam.  Well, the kids swam.  I waded a bit, since my older bones too quickly feel the chill of mountain lakes.  Alex and Sage seemed to think the water was warm as toast.  Even so, I instructed the girls to not submerge their heads, since I wanted to prevent colds.

Heading toward Garnet Lake,
which is far more beautiful than my one photo of it suggests.

While the girls were splashing, I saw the Japanese couple we had seen at the train station in Merced, and then again at Lower Cathedral Lake.  We smiled and waved at each other.  While the girls were drying off, we saw Connie approaching with a fellow we hadn't met.  We had gotten ahead of Connie without seeing her -- she must have gone off trail for a few minutes at some point, and we'd walked right by her.  She introduced the fellow -- his name was Joe, I think, then she continued on her way, determined to reach Reds in time for dinner.  The girls and I shared some snacks with Joe, then he continued on his way while we lounged in the sun.

As we were lounging, we heard....lap-lap-lap-lap.  I jumped up and looked toward the water.  There -- there was the cause of the worrisome sound -- it was a mama duck with three ducklings.  Her webbed feet made a soft, gentle, rhythmic splashing sound as she slowly paddled through the water.  The ducklings made no sounds at all.

The girls and I laughed at ourselves and happily watched the ducks for a few minutes before shouldering our packs and moving onward.

We crossed the bridge at the northern section of Garnet Lake and immediately went the wrong way.  The more obvious path is to the left after you cross, but it didn't take long for us to realize we'd made a mistake.  That obvious path quickly becomes narrow and looks poorly maintained.  We backtracked, only to run into a group of three men and one woman who had followed us into the wrong area.  They didn't seem to have a map or compass with them, so they watched as I took out the map and showed them that the correct path goes around the other side of the lake for a while before turning southeast.  We were moving faster than they were, so they let us go ahead.  The climb up and away from Garnet Lake has a few strange wrong-turn options, but our map and compass set us straight whenever doubts arose.

All was fine and well with our world until we ascended the switchbacks between Shadow Lake and Rosalie Lake.  Halfway up, Sage started coughing.  Within five minutes, she went from coughing every 30 seconds to coughing every ten seconds.  Ten minutes after that, she could no longer talk.  Her pace slowed to a crawl and she wheezed with every breath.  The onset of all of this was incredibly rapid.  She was fine and cheery one minute, then ten minutes later she was in extremely poor condition.  It was scary as hell.

I weighed our options.  Gladys Lake was our highest point of the day at 9575 feet, and it was two to three miles away.  After that, it was a straight descent into the Devil's Postpile/Reds Meadow Resort area, where we could get medical help if needed and enjoy breathing more oxygen at 7700 feet.  Backtracking would mean having to ascend many miles up and over 10,000 feet before getting back to a low-altitude area.  Continuing onward made the most sense.

We stopped and drank water at every switchback, and Sage's coughing and wheezing lessened somewhat with the decreased pace.  We eventually made it up to Gladys Lake, where she begged me to set up camp.  I told her no, we couldn't, that we had to get her down to lower altitude.  I took Alex aside as Sage rested and told her all I could remember about High Altitude Pulmonary Edema, and that I was worried Sage might have it, and that it was absolutely crucial we get her down to lower altitude immediately.  If this was indeed HAPE, then spending another night above 9000 feet could kill her.

Alex said she could take Sage's backpack if needed, then she went over to her sister.  She took Sage's hand and started telling her jokes, and even now, weeks later, as I sit here and write this, I am SO PROUD of Alex for taking care of her sister like that.  Alex encouraged Sage to get up and start moving.  She told Sage that it was all downhill from here to Reds, and that she'd feel a lot better once we got a little lower.  Sage wasn't happy about having to continue, but she did so, and on her own two feet.  With every hundred feet of descent, her breathing improved and the frequency of her coughing decreased.  By the time we got to 8500 feet, her breathing was normal and her coughing occurred every few minutes instead of every few seconds.

Though it was a straight descent, it was still a 7-mile walk.  I offered to carry Sage, but she refused and, once we were below 8500 feet, walked at breakneck speed.  She was grumpy and irritable, and she couldn't talk above a whisper.  I allowed her to walk on her own since her breathing had returned to normal...and I certainly didn't mind getting to lower altitude sooner rather than later, for her sake.  I was prepared to swoop her up if I felt it necessary, but Sage carried on, stronger with every step into more oxygen-rich territory.

Moving down into Devil's Postpile

 We reached the sign shown below and Sage, in a whisper, insisted we take a normal "smiley-photo."  I gave her a hug, then we took the picture.  Sage was mad at herself for not being 100% (in spite of my assurances that this wasn't her fault and that Alex and I cared far more for her well-being than we did about the trail).  Posing for this photo cheered her up a bit, since, to her, it was proof that everything would turn out just fine.  Everything did indeed turn out just fine eventually, but of course, at the time, I didn't know how anything would turn out.  Right after I took the photo, Alex took one of Sage's hands and I took the other.  We then made our way to the Visitors' Center at Devil's Postpile, caught the shuttle bus to Reds Meadow Campground, and found a site for the evening.

Sage rested on a picnic bench and ate the only thing she wanted to consume -- chocolate-covered caramels.  Alex pushed fluids on her while I quickly readied everything for the night.  Since Sage was now breathing without a wheeze and coughing much less frequently, I felt it safe to wait until morning before perhaps visiting a hospital.  I knew the best remedy for HAPE, if this was indeed HAPE, was immediate descent and rest.  We'd already descended to lower altitude, now Sage could rest.

A German father-son duo camped in the site next to ours.  The father asked about Sage, and I told him our story.  The girls played cards as I spoke with the duo for a few minutes, then I got the girls into the tent.  Alex slept well, but Sage woke every couple of hours to cough for a few seconds.  I stayed up late searching the internet for all I could find on HAPE, then I finally went to sleep knowing that, given Sage's immediate improvement upon descent, I had done the right thing.  If she had still been wheezing and coughing hard at 7700 feet, then I would have flagged down a ranger and taken her to the hospital.  As things now stood, I felt she would be fine for the night and would likely be greatly improved in the morning.

I was right -- she was better the next morning, but we'd eventually visit Mammoth Lakes Hospital anyway.  I'll write more about that this Friday evening.