160 Miles on the John Muir Trail, 1992
SATURDAY, JULY 4 -- DAY 6
I awake early again at 5:30am to try and beat the mosquitoes, plus I' beginning to like starting early. Robins are singing and lend cheer to the fine morning. There is something particularly characteristic about a robin's voice that makes them instantly recognizable, even though the tune they sing is somewhat random. Its another nice morning with a predominantly blue sky and just a few thin, wispy white clouds floating around. I would prefer for the day to start completely clear and stay clear, because even these innocent looking clouds make me fear that darker ones could be coming.
I hurry and by 7:00am I am ready to go -- my earliest start yet! Its 38°, having risen slightly from the overnight low of 36°, and I start in long pants and windbreaker. Still no mosquitoes yet. I look back to the south into upper LeConte canyon and think of yesterday's awesome descent! Climbing Muir Pass would definitely be harder from this side, yet I may have equally challenging climbs ahead. I am confident about my climbing abilities based on what I've already done, but summiting Mt. Whitney will be the big test -- that will be a 4000' elevation gain into the highest altitude of the trip.
I kind of feel like I blew it yesterday. By having descended to here so late in the day, I've missed seeing spectacular LeConte Canyon in good light. And yet, last night there were too many evening shadows for good pictures and this morning's shadows are not ideal either. LeConte Canyon is immense in magnitude. I camped at 8710' last night under the towering glare of 11,500-12,000' peaks, whose summits were less than a mile distant! All that and no good pictures. However, I'm now in position for an early stop at upper Palisade Lake which for all I know may be even prettier!
The pack rides well this morning and feels a little lighter. My boots are another story -- my left boot feels pretty good, but my right boot problem is causing pain today. I must add padding around a pressure point to walk comfortably. I continue along the trail on an easy grade, following the middle fork of the Kings River downstream through LeConte Canyon. A tame deer grazes 50' off the trail right beside where 6 people are camped. He's looking for handouts I suppose. The ever-present juncos are hopping about They are joined by curious, little unafraid brown birds, each with a grey head, black cap, and just a hint of orange and black on its wings. I almost have to shoo them off the trail in front of me!
After an hour, I arrive at the confluence with Palisade Creek and stop for a break. The JMT turns left here and begins a long uphill grade toward Palisade Lakes and Mather Pass. After a half hour, I'm on my way again. A sign at this trail junction indicates that Mather Pass is 11 miles away. I've noticed that some people I've met, presumably those in the know, pronounce this as "May-ther" Pass.
Its uphill now on a varying grade, and warmer -- I'm now down to my T-shirt. I pass a skittish momma deer and her spotted fawn. As I gain elevation, I have spectacular views behind me of Devils Crags and other rocky peaks along the western side of LeConte Canyon. The temperature is up to 65° with clear blue sky and intense sunshine. There aren't many mosquitoes, but when I stumble into their area, they bite ferociously! Fortunately, insect repellant is very effective on Sierra mosquitoes. They'll buzz around and just when they're getting ready to land, they get a whiff of it and zoom away.
In another hour, I leave the shelter of the forest and begin a big climb up toward the basin continuing the Palisade Lakes. The scenery is spectacular and I stop for a half hour lunch break. This is an ideal spot in the warm sun with a great view, but its just a little breezy. I take a couple of pictures down the valley. There is a tree on the right-hand side of my view, with a junco at the very top. I'll remember to look for the junco in my pictures later. My right boot problem is giving me a little trouble, but is acceptable for now.
After lunch, I continue climbing and soon come to a particularly infamous spot called the Golden Staircase. This is a long series of steep switchbacks on an exposed granite face offering no shade. About 2/3 of the way up, I meet a young, solo backpacker named Steve, who is hiking from south of Whitney to Yosemite Valley. He had started out with a friend who got sick and had to be airlifted out at Crabtree Meadow, but like a good trooper he's continuing on alone. He advises against camping on top of Mt. Whitney due to the recent high winds and the mountain's unpredictable nature. Instead, he recommends a tentsite just below the junction of the JMT with the Whitney trail. I like that idea! That would be less climbing with the pack, a lower campsite altitude, and probably less wind! Yeah, maybe that's what I will do! That may be the solution to my dilemma of whether not to spend the night on top of the mountain!
Near the top of the Golden Staircase, I approach the Palisade Lakes basin and lose sight of the valley through which I just ascended, but I gain a tremendous view of the fabulous Palisade crest, jutting majestically above the basin. The crest is a high, sawtooth ridge of sharp, jagged, 13,000+ peaks. I'm still climbing, but the grade has eased and there are now many level areas. At 1:20pm, I arrive at the shore of lower Palisade Lake.
I'm back in God's country again! Alpine lakes, high passes, bright sun and spectacular views -- I love it! Its a little breezy and cool, but the sun is warm and the temperature is still 65°, so I'm fine in just a T-shirt. I climb above the lake on its east side and then continue on to upper Palisade Lake, staying high and well above the water. This basin is a magnificent area with the two sparkling lakes, the majestic Palisade crest, and now Mather Pass hovering to the south.
I find an acceptable campsite and drop my pack, then change into my camp shoes and look around. Maybe this isn't the site implied in my guidebook, or maybe there's a better site. I take a walk and find another spot that I like better a little farther up the trail. I go back, fetch my pack and bring it to this new site, which is flatter and more scenic, but is farther from water. I like it here. This would be ideal if not for the wind. Its really gusting! But the wind blows all through here, not just at this campsite.
At 2:30pm, this is my earliest stop yet, but even so I covered 12 miles today. Because of the wind, I am tempted to shoot on over the pass and maybe have calmer air on the other side, but I'm tired and its at least 5 miles to the next campsite, so I'll stay here. And who knows, it may be even more windy on the other side of the pass. I fetch and filter water and hang the damp clothes that have been in my pack for two days. With the constant wind and the warm, high altitude sun, my clothes dry almost instantly. I stretch my tarp over a large flat rock to dry in the sun, staking each corner to keep it from blowing away. When it is dry, I pitch my tent so it can dry too. I've got lots of time so I sit down to write for awhile in my journal.
Tonight is my sixth night out and I'm camped at the location that I had planned to camp on my seventh night, so I'm exactly one full day ahead of schedule. I've come about 90 miles so far in these six days and have about 75 miles yet to go. How do I feel so far? Well, I'm starting to dream of good meals, a hot shower, and the satisfaction of having completed this long trek. Oh, I'm having great fun and wouldn't cut the trip short for anything, but it definitely has its highs and lows. Yesterday was such a day: breathtaking views in the first half of the day, followed by drab, overcast skies in the afternoon. And then there was magnificent LeConte Canyon that came late in a day that turned out to be too long and tiring.
Today is mixed too: bright sun and impressive scenery, but strong winds that detract. If the air was calm here, this would be like paradise! As my trip now enters its second half, I begin to realize that I am truly a fair-weather hiker. I love the days with great weather, but throw in clouds or wind and its not as much fun. At least here in the Sierras the good weather is so frequent and plentiful that it makes it all worthwhile. I guess that I'm starting to realize that I may not have the proper mindset to be a true long-distance hiker. Hiking the entire 2600 mile Pacific Crest Trail sounded fantastic at one time, but now I'm thinking of taking it completely off my list of things to do in life. As fun as this is, I'm not sure that I would enjoy 6 months of it.
From a physical standpoint, I've discovered that my legs usually feel rubbery and drained in the morning from the previous day's activities, but they always feel better by midday and rise to the challenge of the inevitable big climb, only to be exhausted again by nightfall. They are never sore, just tired. My pack is riding well and is getting better all the time, due to the decreased weight. It is now much easier to load. My boots on the other hand, gave no problems on the first 2 days, but have been a little troublesome ever since, which is the opposite of what I expected. They should get better as they become more broken in!
From a psychological standpoint, I've found that the time spent hiking during the day is sometimes physically very difficult, climbing long grades and walking many miles, but mentally that's where the real pleasure is! Camping at night is somewhat of a hassle unless I have plenty of time and the weather is good. Everything gets wet or dirty. Part of this is my own fault. Too many times I've stopped late and had to rush to get all my chores done. Its just amazing how long it takes to setup or tear down camp! Still, given the perfect campsite with a view and good weather, and enough time, camp time is great! My best camp so far was on my third night, at Marie Lakes -- my worst was last night, arriving at the late hour of 7:00pm to a poor site that was not in the sun. Sunshine definitely improves my mood.
Enough writing for now -- I go to wash up and wow, it is cold in this stiff wind! Its great between gusts in the warm sun, but that's not often enough. Each night, I try to wash my hair and take a sponge bath using soapy water, but when the wind is blowing and cold, the bath is quick and minimal. I put on clean clothes and wash the ones that I just took off. I've still got 1½ hours of daylight, so they should have enough time to dry. Now that washing and laundry is done, I walk around and take pictures of my camp while the light is still good.
I'm getting tired of this wind! Its fatiguing, and turns an otherwise pleasant day into a crummy one! I'll be glad to get going again tomorrow! I begin dinner, which for tonight is a freeze-dried lasagna meal. This is very good and my favorite so far! When dinner is over, I take down my laundry and hang my food bag. The wind is a little better, but is still blowing plenty.
I hang my food every night because I assume that there could be bears at any campsite, although they are less likely to be at this higher altitude. Its not always easy to find a "textbook" tree though, especially at higher altitudes where the trees are fewer and more stunted. At times I can only use the best tree available and keep my fingers crossed. Tonight is like that -- if a bear actually came around, I doubt that my food would be safe.
I haven't seen anyone since I got here, in fact I've only seen one person all day. I like that! The one person that I did see today reminded me that today is a holiday: July 4th. I had forgotten all about it. I keep hoping that an entire day will go by without my seeing anyone at all, but that's probably unlikely. At 8:30pm, I hit the sack. The glow of the waning sun still lights the western horizon. The wind is finally down to an acceptable level, the sky is clear and the temperature is 45°.
Day 5
Day 7