160 Miles on the John Muir Trail, 1992
TUESDAY, JUNE 30 -- DAY 2
At 6:00am I awake and peer out my tent. YES -- it is CLEAR! I heard rain and sleet on the tent during much of the night, but it is nice now, thankfully! There are some clouds to the southwest, but it is great here at Tully Hole. I slept well and my sleeping bag was warm enough, except that my feet were not as toasty as I thought they should have been. The tent is wet inside and I praise my decision to spend the extra money for a sleeping bag with a waterproof, Gore-Tex cover. Given the smallness of my tent, it is nearly impossible to prevent my sleeping bag from touching the inside of the tent walls and without the waterproof covering on my sleeping bag, the down insulation would almost certainly have gotten wet and become less effective.
I stay in bed for another half hour, then arouse to a damp, still wonderland. I check my thermometer and discover that the temperature is a crisp 34°. Ice coats the outside of my tent, my pack and the ground around camp. The tops of the nearby mountains have a thin layer of snow down to within a few hundred feet above my current altitude.
I'm not sure what to do first. Should I pack things up wet, or wait for the sun to dry everything out? I decide to wait, because the sun will be on me soon and who knows what the weather might do later in the day. If it clouds up and rains again, I won't have a chance to dry things out later. I fetch my food from the nearby tree and then stretch a clothesline and hang everything up to dry -- tent, sleeping bag, liner, clothes, poncho, and so on. The sun soon rises above an eastern mountain and spreads glorious warmth on my camp. Everything begins to dry. I kick back and enjoy a leisurely breakfast. My camp is at the edge of a divine meadow and I am soothed by the peacefulness of the scenery. Ground squirrels and robins hunt for their morning meal in the nearby grass.
My equipment dries quickly in the bright sun and within 2 hours, I've packed everything up and hit the trail. The temperature is still only 40°, but very feels warmer in the abundant sunshine. The few clouds that I saw early this morning have disappeared. I follow noisy Fish Creek downhill through a beautiful, wooded valley. The grade is steep enough that the large, heavily flowing creek appears almost as a long, cascading waterfall. A towering, pointy mountain looms above to my left. This is a wonderful morning and the pleasant weather is greatly welcome after yesterday's dismal weather.
After a mile, I cross Fish Creek on a steel bridge and arrive at an unmarked trail junction. I turn right here, following what seems to be the more beaten path, and continue following Fish Creek downstream. I'm out of water now and stop alongside the stream to collect more, giving my borrowed water filter its first test. There are "mossies" here (mosquitoes) and I don't spend any more time than necessary.
I check the map because I'm not confident about my decision at the last trail junction 5 minutes back and I find that, sure enough, I've made a wrong turn! I backtrack to the junction and -- HOLY COW! There is a sign here! It is inconspicuously hidden at ground level beside a stump, but yes, it points my way up the other path. I can hardly believe that I missed it and I vow to watch more closely in the future. As I start climbing now, I think back about yesterday's long, long descent from Virginia Lake to Tully Hole and downstream along Fish Creek. I am very glad that I don't have to climb that grade going the other direction, but who knows, maybe I'm in for an even tougher climb today. The long descent to here was perhaps only 1200' but it seemed longer. I will climb over Silver Pass today and it may be tougher --- yes, the map informs me that it will be a 1700' climb!
I'm warm now and down to shorts and T-shirt. Its still only 52° but very comfortable in the warm sun and calm air. The trail climbs a respectable grade and I find myself tiring quickly -- no doubt yesterday's long 18 mile trek took its toll on my unaccustomed body. It is a spectacular day and my spirits are high as I climb through forest beside a nice, babbling little brook.
"Babble, babble, babble, little brook!"
- Millie WyantI'll have to ask Mom if I got that quote right. She was overheard stating that remark in glee, when rock-hopping across a stream in the Smokey Mountains. As I climb, I catch sight of large peaks to the southwest that are lightly snow-covered from last night's storm. My trail is damp and sloppy, but the forest smells great from the extra moisture! Everything is working well for me so far today -- boots, feet, pack, etc. My hips are a little sore from hauling the heavy backpack, but its only a minor discomfort.
I climb to a picturesque meadow, rimmed by towering white granite mountains. The far ones are snow-covered and I suspect that Silver Pass is that direction. To the north is the Ritter range, dressed in a fresh dusting of snow and partially enshrouded in thick clouds. That area, home to Garnet and Thousand Island Lakes, is 15 miles north of the Postpile, where I began yesterday.
Large, puffy, white clouds are forming and I feel the urge to push for upcoming Silver Pass before the weather turns crummy again. I quickly come to super-scenic Squaw Lake, sitting in a little basin at the foot of a towering white mountain. I'm walking on snow now, but there's only a little and its melting quickly. A short, hard climb brings me to a junction with the Goodale Pass trail. Up until now, I had been following footprints in the snow, but they turn right here and I turn left, heading for Silver Pass on untrampled snow.
I soon arrive at even prettier Chief Lake, also in a basin rimmed with impressive white mountains. The trail through this area is very sloppy, either with water trickling down its middle, or covered with slushy snow. I'm moving very slowly, partly because I'm tired, but also to savor the beauty.
Next comes Warrior Lake. This is how I remember the Sierras -- bright sun, alpine meadows, white granite mountains, and gorgeous high mountain lakes. I love it and my heart is soaring! Two hours ago, I had somewhat dreaded this pass, fearing cold and windy uncomfortable conditions, but its very pleasant! I'm fine in just my shorts and a flannel shirt -- its 50° and calm!
At 2:00pm, I reach Silver Pass. It is scenic, calm and mild -- still 50°, but pleasant. I am surrounded by patches of 2" deep snow, but the air temperature is comfortable, not cold. I sit for awhile and enjoy the views and contemplate the names of the lakes in this area: Squaw, Papoose, Chief and Warrior Lakes. Lake of the Lone Indian. I wonder who named them and why. A few heavy clouds remind me that foul weather may be near, so after 15 minutes, I start down the south side of the pass, continuing my way into unknown territory. Unknown to me, at least.
I descend into a wide, windy valley, pass a cold-looking, unnamed tarn and then two lakes. Silver Lake is on my right and a lake not shown on the map is on my left. It is breezy and colder on this side of the pass, with the temperature only 45°. Clouds prevail too, although there is some blue sky and sun. When I reach treeline, I take a badly needed break, stopping for about 20 minutes before pushing onward again. I enter a lovely wooded valley containing Silver Pass Creek and meet a solo backpacker who is doing the entire JMT from Whitney to Yosemite. Its 3:00pm and this is the first person that I have seen today.
I skirt a pretty meadow and begin a long formidable descent into a valley that is fed by a tall, cascading waterfall on Silver Pass Creek. The views are magnificent -- especially up a side valley to the east, toward Mott Lake. This is one very high waterfall! Its at probably 500' high and should be rated on a list somewhere, but perhaps it doesn't really rate as a genuine waterfall. More accurately, it may be only a stream that tumbles down a 45° slope.
The air is mild at this lower elevation and the temperature is now up to 55°. I follow the creek steeply down into the valley on a long, arduous switchbacking grade. I pass the Mott Lake trail junction and continue descending beside a stream, past brushy Pocket meadow. I meet yet another backpacker, this one is hiking the entire Pacific Crest Trail, starting from Mexico! He is friendly, happy, and seems to be having a wonderful time, even though he started 10 weeks ago! That's a long time on the trail.
At 5:00pm, I arrive at the Mono Pass trail junction. Its getting late and I need to stop soon. Just beyond this junction, I find a campsite up off the trail to my left. This will do -- I drop my pack and start unloading, but have a change of heart. This site just isn't to my liking. I want something spectacular and this site just doesn't qualify. I'll continue on and hope something better comes along, but it had better be soon -- the shadows are growing long.
Pack back on, I continue descending through the valley. I pass by a noisy couple making camp off the trail to my right. Five minutes later, I find a very nice spot almost out of sight on my left. Yep, this is the spot! I'm glad I kept looking because this site is much nicer! Its now 6:00pm as I drop my pack and begin making camp. I wash up, do laundry, filter water, erect the tent and make my bed, and its 7:45pm before I get a chance to sit down to cook dinner. Where did the time go? I'm having Mandarin Orange Chicken (freeze-dried) tonight and it is filling, but otherwise not especially good.
There are dark clouds about, but it may be clearing from the west. I can't find my whistle which I carry to chase off bears. I don't remember packing it away this morning and I can't find it now, so I assume that it is lost. Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it now. I hang my food and hit the sack a little after 9:00pm. It's a calm evening and the current temperature is 45°.
Day 1
Day 3