JMT Hiking Day #16: Forester Pass to Guitar Lake. Aug. 26, 2014

***20 miles with around 2400 feet of total elevation gain (lots of ups and downs!).

Our next to last day!  The girls and I were excited as we began the climb to Forester Pass.  We had camped just a couple of miles down from the Pass itself, so we didn't have far to go.

It was a cool morning, but we had camped so high that the sun hit us quickly -- there were no steep valley walls blocking our light and warmth.  We climbed climbed climbed; it didn't seem difficult.  We were propelled by the excitement of being almost finished.

We reached Forester Pass around 10:15am.  Here are the girls on the pass with a view northward.

Here they are facing the other direction, with the famous sign between them.

Two older fellows arrived ten minutes after we did.  Their trailnames were M&M and Wiley.  One of them took this photo for us (thanks, kind guy!).

 One more photo of the girls...

The Beanie Boos shared our joy.

Photo by Sage Herr

M&M and Wiley were doing a JMT section hike from Whitney to Reds Meadow Resort.  They had a ton of food with them, and they offered us cheese.  We scarfed it down...we hadn't had any cheese since Muir Trail Ranch, so this particular cheese tasted fabulous.

Lisa, the nice woman I spoke to by Charlotte Lake while waiting for our resupply, arrived and the six of us hung about for a long while and chatted.  The day was gorgeous.  While we shot the breeze, a man with a small backpack approached from the south and stopped to take a short break.  His trailname was Handy Andy, and he had started hiking from Whitney Portal at midnight...he was in the process of trying to break the JMT speed record.  It was 10:30 in the morning and this fellow had hiked all the way from Whitney Portal, 31 miles away, in ten and a half hours.  He ate a bit and drank a bit, and then he was on his way.  We wished him well.  After I returned home, I discovered he had indeed broken the unsupported speed record (the new one now stands at 3 days and 10 hours!).

We eventually got a move on.  We didn't have nearly the distance ahead of us that Handy Andy did, but still...if we wanted to make Guitar Lake before nightfall, then we had to hoof it.

Down we went...

Love this sunbathing marmot...

Photo by Alex Herr

Down toward the junction to Lake South America...

I don't have any photos of the forested portions of the day.  We went up and over Bighorn Plateau, and up and over a few bumps in between that and Crabtree Meadow.  The photos below are either of the Plateau, or from one of the other bumps.  Now that I'm home and the hike was three and a half months ago, I no longer remember exactly where the following four photos were taken.

At some point during the day, we took a break and traded our butter toffee almonds for salami.  A kind couple, named Mike and Liz, were anxious to get rid of their excess meat and we were anxious to lose our excess nuts.  It was a wonderful trade.  The girls and I demolished the entire salami in about half an hour.  We hadn't eaten any meat since Muir Trail Ranch.  The meat went straight to our legs and made the rest of our long day easier.

Contrary to what the ranger at Yosemite had insisted, there were indeed wag bags at Crabtree Meadow.  A huge box of them awaits, right next to the trail, as soon as you enter Whitney Zone.

Though we were excited, the last climb up toward Guitar Lake was a killer.  It was late in the day, and I worried about finding a camping spot.  We had only seen a handful of people that day, but I had heard Guitar Lake was always Tent City.  When we arrived, I found the rumor to be true -- there were tents on every sandy spot, tents tucked up into natural walls formed by boulders, and tents on top of the boulders themselves.  Luckily, there were still many, many spots left -- that area can hold quite a few people -- so we made our way to the top of a bunch of boulders and picked a relatively flat and clear surface.  Previous hikers had built a few windbreaks out of smaller rocks up there, so I set up our tent next to one of those windbreaks and secured the guylines with large stones.

Mike and Liz found a spot not far from us...and we were pleased to see Jim and Bryan nearby.  We had miraculously caught up with them.

After setting up camp, we ate, used our wag bags (not as difficult as one might expect), and tried to decide when we should break camp.  Most people get up at 2am and try to make the summit by sunrise.  We weren't sure we wanted to get up that early, so we decided we'd go to sleep and see what happened.  If I naturally woke up early, then I'd wake the girls and we'd pack our things and go.

It was difficult to believe that this time the next evening we'd be in a hotel room drinking milkshakes.  The girls and I felt proud and happy -- and ready to be finished.  Sage was ready for hot food, Alex was ready to take a rest, and I was ready for...well, you know...milkshakes.

 The next journal entry, Mt. Whitney and Whitney Portal, will be posted late Thursday evening (December 18).

JMT Hiking Day #13: Sawmill Pass Junction to Rae Lakes. Aug. 23, 2014

***9.3 miles, net 200 feet elevation gain (1800-ish feet of descent followed by around 2000 feet of elevation gain).

I dreamed we didn't have enough to eat.  I awoke craving Sprite and vanilla milkshakes.

It was FREEZING when we got out of the tent.  All of us were hungry; I made us consume about 1000 calories of nuts and granola each before hitting the trail.  That was a mistake on two counts.  1) We became chilled while eating...we should have walked a mile or so to warm up before having breakfast.  2) It was too much food.  All of us were hungry when we woke up, but our stomachs had shrunk.  We needed to eat more snacks more often, not more food all at once.  We therefore hit the trail feeling sick and freezing.

A mile or so later, we were more comfortable.  The sun came out and we warmed...quickly.  Within ten minutes of walking in direct Sierra sunshine, we were hot.  That's one thing about the Sierra -- it's all about extremes.

Our route took us downhill...and to the most frightening part of the entire John Muir Trail, as far as I'm concerned.

This suspension bridge did NOT look safe.  I sent Sage first, since she was the lightest.  She tackled it cheerfully and with gusto.  She even turned around halfway across and waved at us, which did nothing good for my nerves.

Alex went next.  She too thought the bridge was a blast.

Photo by Sage Herr

I went last.  That bridge was not fun, not for me, no way!  The whole thing swayed and moved...and some of the boards were missing...and one looked like it had broken when someone had stepped on it.  I had zero confidence about my safety.  It was a million feet straight down to the river from the planks of that wobbly bridge.  Seriously, this was the most frightening part of our entire journey.

Crossing the bridge of death.  Photo by Alex Herr

I made it safely to the other side.  We were all happy to be alive.

Two kind guys were waiting on the other side of the bridge -- Jim and Bryan.  We had met them before, on Mather Pass.  They were so kind; we had enjoyed our conversation with them up on Mather Pass, and we enjoyed conversation with them now, as we ate and took a break.  Bryan graciously gave me his extra Platypus water bag, after I told him three (!) of our Sawyer Squeeze bags had torn/broken.  (That Platypus bag was robust, and our Sawyer Squeeze filter attached to it perfectly).

Don and Debbie arrived, then we spent the next couple of hours playing leapfrog with them, as we had done the day before.  The day became hot, so every once in a while we'd stick our heads in a stream.  My thoughts kept turning to Sprite and vanilla milkshakes.

Alex, Sage, Debbie, and Don

 The steep switchbacks toward Dollar Lake felt...well...HOT (I thought of little else but Sprite and vanilla milkshakes the entire way up), so we dunked our heads again once we reached the little oasis.  Fin Dome and Painted Lady are in the background...

Jim and Bryan were there fishing when we arrived.  They headed onward while we hydrated, then we carried on.

Rae Lakes was the destination...and the three or so miles between Dollar Lake and Rae Lakes felt mellow and easy...and I enjoyed my daydreams of vanilla milkshakes...but when we got to Rae Lakes, we were a little disappointed.  It is beautiful, no doubt, but there are multiple trails in the vicinity, which means many people take two or three day backpacking trips and stop there for the evening.  In other words, it was crowded.  Jim and Bryan were already there, and they showed us a spot where we could camp nearby, but the spot was a bit too small for our liking and we searched the area for a place that would a) fit our three-person tent and b) not infringe upon anyone else's privacy.  It was difficult -- Rae Lakes is Tent City.  We finally found a spot that was kinda-sorta in the middle of a walkway, but it was the best we could do.

Rae Lakes

The only secluded spot we could find...for the moment.

Of course, once we had set up and eaten dinner (alas, no Sprite, no vanilla milkshakes), we discovered a huge, gorgeous, secluded spot with its own private access to the lake.  So -- future JMT hikers, take note -- once you come into the main area from the trail, take a right, walk past the bear boxes, and continue until you're almost at the lake.  Then take a right, walk uphill a bit...and voila, your own private, huge camping area.  There must have been over fifty people camping at Rae Lakes that evening, and not one of them discovered that gorgeous spot.

Our next day would bring us over Glen Pass and to Charlotte Lake, where we would stop and wait for our resupply to arrive on the 25th.

JMT Hiking Day #12: Upper Palisade Lake to Sawmill Pass Junction (Mather Pass and Pinchot Pass). Aug. 22, 2014

***18 miles, with around 3500 feet of elevation gain

I woke in the middle of the night unable to breathe.  It wasn't a gasping sort of problem, it was a lack of oxygen problem.  I laid still and listened to the girls; they were sleeping soundly and breathing deeply.  A self-inventory revealed no issues.  My head did not hurt, my muscles were not cramping, my stomach was not upset.  I simply didn't feel like I was getting enough oxygen.

The thought of waking the girls, packing everything up, and hiking down in the middle of the night...in mountain lion territory no less...did not appeal to me.  I therefore closed my eyes, mentally reached out into the unknown, and connected with the force of life that flowed around me.

I am not a religious person, but I do feel connected to what I feel is a power greater than myself when I am in the midst of nature.  I do not call this higher power a god or goddess.  Rather, it is what I termed it above, a life force.  The life and the power and the energy from all the living things around me -- the birds, the trees, the insects, the marmots, the spiders -- the hum from every living cell -- it all flows and travels over and around and through everything.  I never feel this way inside a building, surrounded by dead materials.  I almost never feel this way surrounded by other people, either -- too many people carry too much vanity, insecurities, and preoccupation with things that don't matter.   Outside, however, in the midst of the wilderness -- that is where the honesty is.  That's where I feel at home, connected.  It's where I feel most alive, and most safe.

I focused on my breathing and asked all the life around me to protect my kids if something bad should happen.  At least fifteen other thru-hikers slept nearby, including Don and Debbie, so I was never worried Alex and Sage would become lost or left alone for long (on the JMT, if you get into trouble, all you have to do is sit on the trail...someone you've probably met will be along in an hour or less...the trail is that popular).  I tried to envision my own life source blending in with everything around me, and having that source support my breathing.  A phrase crept into my head -- "You're getting all the oxygen you need."  I repeated that phrase over and over to myself as the minutes dragged on.  Finally, after what seemed like an hour, I fell back asleep.  Just before I drifted into dreamland, however, I vowed to write about that experience and to share it with my kids.  So, for what it's worth, I'm now writing about it and, in doing so, fulfilling that part of the promise.  I'm sure some of you will think this is hokey, and that's fine, I understand.  Nevertheless, I told myself I'd make a written and public note of the experience, and so there it is.

When I awoke, it was dawn..and freezing...but I felt fine.  The girls and I broke camp and began ascending Mather Pass.  Don and Debbie had packed up and left before us.  Phil was still sleeping in his spot down the hill from the trail.

The sun didn't reach our part of the trail until we were most of the way up.  The climb to Mather Pass was therefore chilly, though the climb warmed us enough to necessitate a delayer break.

We caught up with Don and Debbie near the top.  Once at the pass, Sage took one of her Beanie Boo photos.

Photo by Sage Herr

Debbie graciously took this photo of us --

We ate snacks up top and chatted with D&D for a while.  A couple of fellows approached from the other side of the pass, and we spoke with them for a while too.  The morning was gorgeous, and we all felt on top of the world.  More people arrived, and everyone felt like we were part of some secret, spontaneous party.  Eventually, D&D said goodbye and headed down the pass, then other folks came and went, and, finally, we decided we'd better get a move-on too.

Down we went, down steep switchbacks into a gorgeous valley.  Near the bottom of the switchbacks, I realized I had left the day's map at the top of the pass.  I had the guidebook, so the map wasn't crucial, but I asked some folks who were on their way up if they could look for it and pack it out for me.  They agreed, and we carried onward.

At first, the valley was pretty.  We kept leapfrogging D&D until they stopped for a snack and we got a ways ahead.  We walked and walked and walked...and the valley began to feel monotonous.  At one point, I worried we had missed a turn, but just when we began to panic, we ran into a fellow named Stewart.  We had seen Stewart before, most recently near the Palisade Lakes.  He assured us we were on the right trail, and he let me take a photo of his map.  Relieved, we carried onward.

The dry, steep switchbacks up toward Marjorie Lake felt difficult for some reason.  Thankfully, the immediate mile after the switchbacks was flat and easy.  We passed the lake, checked the time, and felt strong enough to continue up and over Pinchot Pass.

Beautiful lake near the top of Pinchot Pass.  Photo by Alex.

Pinchot Pass looks easy on the map, but there are many false "summits."  There came a time when I wanted to shout, "Aren't we there already??"  Finally, we made it to the top.  The wind was fierce, but there was a little nook where the boulders created a natural wall.  We squished in there together and refueled/rehydrated.

Alex drinking water on Pinchot Pass.  Photo by Sage Herr

We hung about for a while, admiring the view, then we headed down the steep switchbacks toward the Sawmill intersection.

3.8 miles later, we reached the intersection and looked for the camping spots.  They were along the Sawmill Trail, 50 feet or so from the JMT.  We took one of the very few spaces, then discovered three tents perched above us, on a shelf of rock.  They belonged to some older gentlemen who were hiking the Sawmill Trail.

Didn't see anyone from the night before -- we weren't sure who traveled over Pinchot Pass and who camped near Marjorie Lake.  More peanut butter and Nutella wraps, then we fell asleep rather quickly.  Two passes and 18 miles...we were beat.

JMT Hiking Day #11: Pete's Meadow to Upper Palisade Lake. August 21, 2014

***About 13 miles with around 2700 feet of elevation gain.

The same family of deer wandered all through our site as we awoke and broke camp.  They weren't bothered by our presence in the slightest, and they watched as we dusted all the dried deer poop off the bottom of our tent.  After cleaning our hands and eating, we shouldered our packs and headed on our way.

A half mile or so later, we stopped to delayer by the intersection with the trail leading to Bishop Pass.  There, we saw a man named Mike waiting for the llama-fellow we had met the day before.  Mike told us that he, the other fellow, and the llamas had started from Whitney ten days ago and were trying to hike north along the JMT.  Unfortunately, one of the llamas had become sick before reaching Glen Pass.  They waited two days for the llama to recover, but it died.  Next, one of the other llamas broke its leg and had to be airlifted out.  Then, another llama fell ill with what they think was food poisoning.  Now, it appears yet another llama is ill with food poisoning.  The man seemed to have a decent sense of humor about it all, but he understandably stated that this was the last time he was ever going to hike with a group of llamas.

While we were listening, Don and Debbie passed, as well as a fellow named Phil (we had first met him on Selden Pass, before Muir Trail Ranch).  We would play leapfrog with D&D and Phil all day....which we didn't mind, because all three were cool individuals.  Turns out D&D had camped just a tenth of a mile or so away from us.

After listening intently to the tale of llama drama, we wished Mike good luck and continued on our way.

The goal for this day was to get as close as we could to Mather Pass without actually going over it. We figured we'd camp alongside either Lower or Upper Palisade Lake.

The trail felt easy in the beginning...we wandered through trees on the dirt path, happily discussing how lucky we were not to have llamas in tow.  The sky was mostly clear, but there were some clouds forming way off in the horizon.

When we came to what I thought was the last bit of tall trees before our climb up the "Golden Staircase," we stopped to refuel and re-hydrate.  Once again, Phil, and then Don & Debbie, approached and joined us.  We ate together, remarked on the somewhat-cloudy sky, and then the girls and I moved on.  I wanted to get up past the exposed part and back into the trees before any potential storm could form.

Unfortunately, I don't have photos of the Golden Staircase -- it's a series of exposed, short and steep switchbacks tucked into the side of a cliff.  Thankfully, tiny streams of water seep out from the rocks and cross the trail from time to time, which is wonderful, because that Sierra sun is HOT.  The girls and I kept our bandannas wet so we could better wipe the sweat from our faces.

Once up and over the Golden Staircase, the land looks like this --

Clouds were still forming behind us, but, as you can tell, most of the sky remained clear.

We reached Lower Palisade Lake and saw the one camping spot mentioned in the guidebook.  It was completely out in the open.  I didn't like the thought of camping there, completely exposed, knowing we'd have to get up the next morning and make our way past both lakes.  We therefore rejected this spot and headed toward nearby Upper Palisade Lake.

Our guidebook said there were a few camping spots at Upper Palisade Lake, but the first spots we came to, just off the trail on the right, immediately after topping a steep stretch, were taken.  Looking toward the curve of the lake and the way the trees were situated, I felt certain there must be a few more camping spots along the curve of the trail, before passing the lake entirely.  I was right -- this choice spot was less than a tenth of a mile away from the previous camping area.

There were also a few smaller spots close by, each just large enough for a small tent -- Don and Debbie came along and took the one closest to us, and when Phil arrived, he took one that was situated closer to the lake, downhill from the trail.

The girls were excited to have dinner because I'd promised them we could have Nutella and peanut butter wraps.  We sat and ate these delicious, can-only-eat-this-while-thru-hiking concoctions for half an hour.  Wonderful, wonderful stuff.

View toward Upper Palisade Lake from our dinner rock.

We lounged, ate, and wrote in our journals for a long while.  After an hour or so of enjoying the views, the fresh air, and life in general, we thoroughly cleaned our eating area and ourselves, readied ourselves for bed, looked up at the gorgeous sky...and saw this fellow in a tree above our tent, staring down at us.

Photo by Alex

He/she was a moderate-sized bird of prey.  He/she didn't seem bothered by us at all -- in fact, the critter stared down at us continuously as we looked up and returned the gaze.  Alex fetched a Sierra birding book she had bought at VVR and identified it as a Cooper's Hawk.  I walked over to Don and Debbie's area and invited them over to see our new friend.  The five of us stared in admiration as the fellow/gal calmly sat and stared back.  Eventually, we all went to bed.  I kept our rain fly up so we could continue to look at the magnificent creature in the moonlight while we dozed off.  It was still there when I fell asleep.

JMT Hiking Day #8 (Trip Day #13). Sallie Keyes Lakes to Muir Trail Ranch. Aug. 17, 2014

EDIT 12/23/2014 - In an earlier post, I stated that our room at VVR was cleaner and more spacious than what we had at Muir Trail Ranch.  THIS WAS A MISTAKE.  I meant to write that our room at VVF cost about the same, yet was more spacious and cleaner, than our room at Reds Meadow Resort.  I just now -- more than a month later -- caught that mistake.  I am so sorry -- we LOVED our time at MMR, as this post, and the one that follows, should abundantly show. --Trish


As usual, I awoke before the kids.

After they roused themselves, we broke camp and walked the six miles of easy downhill trail toward Muir Trail Ranch.

We arrived around 10am and let ourselves in at the gate.

Horses!

Muir Trail Ranch feels like two separate businesses.  First, it's an excellent resupply stop.  You mail your resupply bucket from home, pay them $65 for each bucket they hold for you, then, when you arrive, your bucket is there on the date you specify, and there's a shaded area for you to go through it and ditch what you don't need.  All those buckets in a row below, plus more you can't see, are filled with food and supplies other hikers have left behind.  You can take whatever you like from those buckets and leave whatever you don't want from your own.  Everything is neatly organized.  There's also a long power strip for folks to charge their gadgets, and there's a faucet with fresh drinking water.  It's a nice operation.  The only thing you can't do, unless you're staying the night as a paid guest, is use their toilets.  That shouldn't be a big deal for anyone who's been backpacking in the woods for days/weeks.

The second business is the resort itself.  There are beautiful cabins, private hot springs, and a to-die-for dining service.  It's a lovely place to stay; the usual clientele hike or ride horses into the ranch from the Florence Lake area.

We were too early to check in, so I took my time going through the two buckets I had mailed.  Alex and Sage looked through what other hikers had left behind and scored some Rice Krispie squares, beef jerky, and a few other enticing tidbits.  They ate their finds while I stuffed everything back in my pack and weighed my Gossamer Gear Gorilla.  42 pounds, plus another eight lbs I was carrying by hand in my Ursack (I'll review that excellent piece of gear this weekend).

Not long after we arrived, a couple we recognized from Vermilion Valley Resort walked into the resupply area.  The man's name was Don and the woman's name was Debbie; they were from Washington DC.  We introduced ourselves (we hadn't spoken at VVR, I just remember seeing their faces) and chatted until the MMR folks told us we could check in.  Don and Debbie were staying two nights, as we were, so we took the tour together and then went into our respective cabins.

The cabins are rustic, individual buildings that dot the banks of a lovely stream.

The interior of our cabin was spacious and charming.

After we settled in, we tackled our laundry.  The girls and I had fun using the old-fashioned washing machine.

Sage using the old-fashioned wringer.

Once the chores were complete, we headed for the private hot springs.  There's an outdoor area in which you must bathe and wash hair before entering the clean water.  We were more than happy to wash the trail dust and body grime off ourselves.

Private hot spring!

Cleaning ourselves before entering the water.

Good times.

Clothes cleaned and bodies rejuvenated, we spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about and waiting for dinner.  We saw the Dartmouth guys come through and pick up their resupply buckets -- we hadn't seen them since that first night at Little Yosemite Valley.  They now numbered four instead of six -- two of the fellas had left the trail.  We exchanged pleasantries with the four that remained, and then they left...they said they planned on ascending Whitney on the 26th.  We didn't see them again, so they were probably a day or two ahead of us from that point forward.

I'll describe more features of Muir Trail Ranch in my next entry, which will be posted late Saturday evening, Aug. 25.