160 Miles on the John Muir Trail,   1992

My first exposure to California's Sierra Nevada came in the summer of 1990 when I had the opportunity to participate in a five-day group hike with friends from my workplace in Phoenix, Arizona. It was far and away the most beautiful area I had ever hiked in. I liked it and I wanted more.

In January of 1992, I began thinking about a second trip to the Sierras and came up with the following plan: I will do a point-to-point, one-way trip along the southern most 160 miles of the John Muir Trail. The trip will begin at Devils Postpile National Monument and follow the JMT south to its terminus on the summit of Mt. Whitney. This trip will be longer than any that I have done before (14 days, 160 miles) and, just as significantly, I will be hiking alone. Although I like solo hiking and have traveled alone many times before, I have never been out for so many days by myself. I must admit that I am unsure as to how well I will do, both mentally and emotionally.

I have spent a great deal of time planning my two-week hike and am now ready to get on with it. My general itinerary can be summarized as follows:


SATURDAY, JUNE 27

Finally, after months of planning, anticipation, preparation and training, the day has finally arrived to leave Phoenix and head for California. I am very excited and am anticipating what should be my best and definitely my longest hike yet. I can hardly wait to get started!

The 500 mile drive from Phoenix, Arizona to Lone Pine, California is dull and uneventful and I arrive in the late afternoon. Standing on the street corner in this busy little town, I gawk in awe at the distant spire of Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States. My mind briefly turns to 1989 and 1990 when I climbed the mountain and stood on its summit, gazing at the town of Lone Pine where I now stand. I try to imagine what it would be like to spend a night on Whitney's summit and wonder if I will be doing just that, two weeks from now. Only time will tell and I am content to let the adventure unfold as it may.

I browse the gift shops in Lone Pine for a while, but don't really find anything that interests me. My mind just isn't on shopping right now. I visit the local Greyhound agent and purchase a one-way bus ticket from Lone Pine to Mammoth Lakes, costing $16.25. There is only one northbound bus each day and it is scheduled to depart Lone Pine at 10:55pm and arrive at Mammoth Lakes at the inconveniently late time of 1:00am.

I've got hours to kill and there isn't much to do, so I get back in my car and head for Whitney Portal where the higher altitude will provide cooler temperatures. The Portal is also where I need to leave my car for the next two weeks. Lone Pine is basking in 100 degree warmth as I depart town and start the 13 mile drive up the paved road to Whitney Portal, which at 8300' is over 5000' higher than Lone Pine.

The Portal is a crowded, popular place, especially on weekends. Hikers, climbers and tourists abound. I walk around, look through the general store, buy a trinket, take a few pictures, and then walk around some more. I find the hiker's overflow parking lot and park my car there, where it will stay for the next 2 weeks and then walk around yet some more. There are short trails that I could take, but I'm not really in the mood, so I grab a seat on a rock and just sit, killing time.

The air is noticeably thinner at this altitude (8300') and it is cool in the shade, but warm in the sun. My head is throbbing from today's long drive and it feels good to just relax, but by 4:30pm, after killing only an hour, I'm bored. I hope this isn't an indication that 13 nights of camping alone is going to drive me batty! I admit to myself that I'm a little antsy. After 6 months of planning, I'm ready to get this show on the road. I want to get into the backcountry and be out in nature, away from all the people. On the other hand, I'm also sitting here wondering if I'm half out of mind for even attempting this kind of hike. I've hiked alone many times, but I've never done anything on this scale before, but I'm not really worried. I know I'll have fun and besides, what could go wrong? (Plenty, probably.)

I sit some more and get even more bored. There are many gnats here and a few ladybugs, but no mosquitoes. I'm sure that will change. I sit for another hour, then get my backpack out of the car and check and double-check it to make sure I have everything in it that's supposed to be there. I'll worry only a little about the car and will have to just trust that it will be okay. Its either that or don't go, and that's not the right choice. You either have to take the chance and go have fun, or not take the chance and never get to go on these kind of adventures. Its worth the minor risk and, after all, that's what insurance is for. Nonetheless, as a precaution I remove a critical fuse from the fusebox and hide it, thereby effectively disabling the car to casual theft.

Within 20 minutes, I have my pack together and am standing beside the road with my thumb out. I've been told that backpackers generally have an easy time hitchhiking in the Sierras, but I really don't know what to expect. What luck! The very first vehicle that comes by, stops! A middle-aged couple in a green Bronco II introduce themselves as Joe and Sharilyn from Los Angeles and offer me a ride. Joe is a Los Angeles motorcycle cop, 6 months from retirement, who was born and raised in Lone Pine. They are in town for this weekend's class reunion, which is actually more of a whole-town reunion where high school graduates from all years come back home. I didn't even know that was happening.

The ride down the long twisty road to Lone Pine is interesting and pleasant. Joe points out landmarks along the way and recites movie-making history: "Rio Bravo was filmed over here, Gunga Din was filmed over there", and so forth. He has many stories about movies made in the local Alabama hills and about his growing up in Lone Pine. Joe and Sharilyn drop me off in Lone Pine and I wave a grateful goodbye. They go on their way and I am left standing on the street corner with a 60 pound pack and nothing to do for the next five hours.

I go into Bobo's Bonanza family restaurant for what I hope will be a lengthy dinner, since I've got hours to kill. This place is empty and the waitress explains that nearly everyone is at the town park for the reunion barbecue. I order the "special", broasted chicken, which is actually greasy fried chicken. It is good, but much too greasy and I can barely force myself to eat it. I try to stretch this out, to kill time, but I'm not overly successful. I leave the restaurant to walk around town, still with almost 4 hours to kill.

My pack feels heavy and awkward and before long, I find a curb and just sit, ....and sit and sit. This part of the trip isn't much fun, just waiting. I feel very much like a fish out of water and wonder if I might become a target for unruly kids or even for bored police who need someone to hassle. I feel like a vagrant and very conspicuous, but Lone Pine is a friendly town and I'm worrying for nothing.

After an hour of sitting, I walk across the street to PJ's coffee house for pie and ice cream. I try to stretch this out too, but I can only milk it for about 40 minutes. Soon I'm back out on the street, walking north through town. HEY! There are benches near the flower shop for Greyhound passengers! I didn't see them before, but I will be happy to spend the rest of the evening there. Its sort of an approved waiting place for "vagrants" like me!

The town is really hopping tonight with old friends cruising the streets, sitting on street corners, laughing and talking. Each of the stores lining main street has high school class pictures from different years displayed in their store windows. Townspeople walk the sidewalks, looking in all the windows, searching for their year. There is a live band and a street dance going on, one block to the east. I can hear it, but I can't see it. Its actually kind of neat, seeing all these people having a good time back in the old home town, but it makes me feel even more out of place than I might otherwise feel. It seems like everyone belongs except for me.

Finally the bus comes and I am happy to get onboard. The driver is a white-haired man in his 50's who has a voice that reminds me of George Kennedy, the actor. There are several other passengers, but the bus is less than half full. After a quick stop at the ARCO mini-mart on the edge of town, we roll north towards Mammoth Lakes.

The bus stops briefly at the small towns of Independence and Big Pine, but there is no passenger change until Bishop, where 2 young kids get off and 3 or 4 other passengers get on. A front-row passenger engages the driver in conversation for the rest of the trip, talking about General Motors, unions and drugs. At 12:55am, we arrive at Mammoth Lakes and its local Greyhound stop, which is a McDonald's restaurant that is closed at this late hour. I fetch my pack and head for my motel, which is 1 block south and 2 blocks west.

The streets are dark, but I find the A Lee lodge without too much trouble thanks to directions that Mr. Lee, the proprietor, had given me over the phone. Mr. Lee, a friendly, nice Chinaman, lets me in and registers me. I'm tired and head for my room, being very careful to not make much noise. Its not easy to be quiet when struggling with a heavy pack in a narrow hallway, but I manage. I find my room, remove my pack, and climb into bed, thus ending an all too long day.

SUNDAY, JUNE 28

At 8:00am, I awake to a sunny day in Mammoth Lakes. I slept well and feel much better, but I'm surprised that I didn't need to sleep later, after such a long day yesterday. After a quick shower, I leave to pick up my wilderness permit at the Mammoth ranger station, which is about a half mile to the east. The rangers don't bat an eye when I tell them that I am going alone on this hike, they just give me a permit and wish me a good trip.

This is considerably different than past visits to the Grand Canyon where I was warned heavily about hiking alone, about the distance and the heat, and had to describe in detail all of my major equipment in case they had to come looking for me. I guess I was expecting some resistance from the Mammoth rangers and am pleasantly surprised that they offered none. Apparently they see many hikers who venture into the wilderness alone. Permit in hand, I head for a nearby restaurant for breakfast. It is good, but a little crowded, mostly with "cool" people.... you know, Ray-Bans, Croakies and fluorescent colors. I feel out of place again and crave to get away from the crowds and hit the backcountry.

Mammoth Lakes is cool and breezy this morning and I'm a little concerned about being uncomfortably cold in the mountains. Suddenly daytime highs in the 60's and lows in the 30's sound pretty unpleasant, but by the time breakfast is over, the day has warmed and my concerns are eased a little. Back at the motel I have a nice chat with the owner, Mr. Dan Lee, who is a 70-ish, very Americanized Chinaman with a sharp mind. Mr. Lee graciously offers to drive me across town to the Mammoth lodge, where I can catch the mandatory shuttle bus down to Devils Postpile. This is a very welcome offer that relieves the second of my two unknowns on this trip over which I have no control. The first was hitchhiking from Whitney Portal to Lone Pine, and the second was getting a ride to the Postpile from here. We take off, with Mr. Lee driving his blue, Chevy, full-sized, late-model pickup truck. I like this guy! He is very pleasant and full of information about the area, and he has been into the backcountry himself many, many times!

When we arrive at Mammoth Mountain 15 minutes later, Mr. Lee refuses payment for the ride as I suspected he would, and I'm sorry now that I didn't leave a big tip in my room. I collect all my gear and walk into the Mammoth Mountain Inn, purchase a shuttle ticket, and then go back outside to wait for the bus, shivering a little in the cold wind. The shuttle bus will take me down to Devils Postpile in the San Joaquin valley floor, where I will stay tonight at Reds Meadow Resort.

Finally a shuttle bus comes. There's supposed to be one every 20 minutes, but its been almost an hour. There is a good crowd and the bus is nearly full. I stumble on the steps getting in with my heavy pack and embarrass myself by falling into another passenger (my dad would be proud --- yes, I am a Wyant). My pack feels heavy and unmanageable today.

Once again, I feel very out of place with my pack and all my hiking gear, when the rest of the passengers are only here for the afternoon. The bus is warm and comfortable, but the mountains outside this protective cocoon look cold and gray. I'm starting to dread (a little) taking off into the backcountry unless the weather improves. Patches of snow dot the tall peaks and I imagine that it is a nasty day in the high country! Dark clouds prevail for now, but maybe it will be nicer tomorrow. The bus fills up at the first stop and people stand in the aisles.

We finally reach my bus stop at Reds Meadow and I file out along with a dozen other people. It is fairly cloudy and breezy here, but at least its pleasantly warm at this lower elevation. I go into the general store to check in and am given cabin #1, which is half of a duplex, i.e., half a cabin. This room is not lavish, but is acceptable with 2 double beds, a tile floor and a shower -- everything that I need.

After getting settled in my room, I leave to walk a couple of miles on nearby trails, just to get out and enjoy the Sierra forest. During this time, I get both sunburned (a little) and rained on (a little), that's how variable the sky is. I talk to a ranger who says that the weather is supposed to stay about the same, but get colder! That's not exactly what I wanted to hear.

I continue with my walk. A big cloud rolls over and I wait under a pine tree while it pours for about 5 minutes. Wild weather -- the clouds are moving fast. This is a pleasant forest and it renews my desire to start my adventure, and that's a renewal that I was beginning to need.

After wandering through the forest for an hour or so, I return to my room just as more big clouds arrive. I've still got plenty of time and would like to walk some more, but what's the point if its going to be cloudy and rainy? I want to enjoy, not endure. I leave again to investigate my starting trail for tomorrow morning. It is not absolutely clear to me how to pick up the John Muir Trail from my current location.

After walking around for awhile, I finally settle on a trail that I think is the John Muir Trail, the JMT. I return to the resort and go into the cafe for an early dinner. No patrons are here and I enjoy a secluded meal of a cheeseburger, chips, pie and ice cream. I make a special effort to enjoy it while I can, since this will be my last "real" meal for two weeks.

When I return to my room, I'm in a sit-and-wait mode again. The weather is dark, cloudy and cool, so I don't feel like taking a walk. I review my guidebook, maps and hiking itinerary, double check my equipment and then wait some more. A cold-looking junco sings on a branch outside my window. A large group of people are having an outdoor barbecue as part of a hayride-cookout, according to the clerk in the store. It does not look comfortable outside right now. I admit to myself that I'm basically a fair-weather hiker and may not enjoy it much if its like this tomorrow. There's people everywhere -- I've got to get away!

"Everyone needs beauty as well as bread"
    - John Muir

Finally bedtime arrives and I turn in at 9:00pm. The waiting is over. When I awake in the morning, the long-awaited hike will begin.


    Day 1   Day 1

Pre-Hike     Day 1     Day 2     Day 3     Day 4     Day 5     Day 6     Day 7     Day 8     Day 9     Day 10     Day 11    

| Home | Recent Hikes | Older Hikes | Vacations | Family | Site Map |