160 Miles on the John Muir Trail, 1992
SUNDAY, JULY 5 -- DAY 7
I'm up early at 5:30am again -- I like getting up early! I slept well and slept warm. My tent is dry this morning and a thermometer check shows why: the temperature is a balmy 40°! WOW --- this is my highest camp yet, but its also my warmest! The breeze has returned, but its better than yesterday so far. The sky is mostly clear with a few high, thin clouds that are moving fast. I don't know but suspect that fast moving clouds may be a bad sign.
Yep, dark clouds quickly approach from the west. I hurry and pack, skipping breakfast. I will push hard for the pass to hopefully get over it before any storms arrive. As I tear down camp, I find that even though my tent is dry, the tarp is wet. That's not too unusual; I rarely have a dry tarp in the morning regardless of temperature or locale, even when camping in the Arizona desert. In an hour, I'm packed and on my way, hurrying to beat any rain that might be coming. The pass is still 3 miles away and will probably take me 1˝ hours to reach it. I push as hard as I can, but that's not very hard in this altitude. The clouds are getting thicker! The sky looks ominous!
After a half hour, I reevaluate the sky. The clouds are quite variable, but maybe slightly less threatening now, although there are still many dark ones around. Some of the urgency is gone so I take the time to choke down an granola bar for breakfast. Within a few minutes, the sky looks rather nasty again as though it could rain soon.
At 7:50am I arrive at Mather Pass and am finally bathed in sunshine, having climbed out from the shade of the Palisade crest which forms the eastern wall of the Palisade Lakes basin. The grade to here was quite steep in places, but fairly easy in others. The sun is warm, the breeze is moderate, the temperature is 45° and actually pretty nice! I just can't tell what the weather is going to do. The dark clouds appear to approach quickly from the west, yet the sun has been out all morning. Its as though the clouds roll in and then dissipate before they reach the sun. They've been coming fast for well over an hour, but the sky is still clear to the east. How can that be? From the pass, the sky looks gloomy to the south, but variable to the northwest with even some hope for blue sky.
I hang around for 20 minutes and then start down the south side of the pass. Mather is almost 1000' higher than Muir Pass, but is not nearly as barren. I descend long switchbacks on an easy grade, into a shallow valley with a relatively high-altitude floor. Lake Marjorie is visible in the distance and maybe Pinchot Pass too, but I'm not really sure where that pass is. During this descent, I spot a large weasel of some kind, possibly a marten, but he disappears before I can get out my monocular to see him better. A little later, I see a second weasel and he too disappears quickly into a hole. I sit on a rock and wait, certain that I can see a shiny eye staring out at me from within the dark hole. He doesn't reappear within 10 minutes, so I move on.
I descend a long, rocky, dry meadow and reenter the trees, stopping beside a stream for a snack break. I can't figure the weather. Drab, dark, clouds keep coming fast from the west, but they still haven't covered the sun. The sky is still clear to the east with intermittent sunshine. Patches of blue are occasionally visible between even the darkest clouds, but still rain looks eminent.
I meet a backpacking couple headed north and they say it was windy at their camp last night too. I guess it was windy everywhere. I see marmots, ground squirrels and Clarks Nutcrackers on my way down into the shallow valley. Soon, I bottom out on my descent and come to a sign that says Mather Pass 4 miles behind me, Pinchot Pass 4 miles ahead. The sky is now a uniform grey and a few snowflakes are falling. SNOWFLAKES! It can't snow -- its 53°! As I watch, a high snow cloud moves over and obscures some distant peaks with obvious precipitation between me and the peaks. This is not good! I'm not waiting until I'm wet this time, so I pull out my poncho and wrestle with it for awhile, finally getting it over me and my pack. There, that did the trick -- the snow stops, patches of blue sky appear, with sunshine and generally improving skies, all within five minutes! I continue on, but overheat quickly in my poncho so I stop in a few minutes to remove it. I do not like this poncho! Its hard to put on and doesn't cover very well. There must be a better way.
In the bottom of the valley, I cross the south fork of the Kings river, but step on a slippery log and douse one of my boots deep into the water, forcing me to stop and remove my boot, empty it, and wring out my socks. WHEW! That was close! I could have just as easily wound up on my backside in this stream! This reinforces an opinion that I've had all along, but was untested: its better to cross streams on stepping stones than on a log -- avoid logs if possible!
From here, I begin a respectably steep climb out of the valley towards Pinchot Pass. After an hour, I arrive at the junction with the Taboose Pass trail and am now back into the pleasurable land of alpine meadows. The weather is still variable, with intermittent sunshine and lots of gloomy-looking, fast-moving clouds, primarily coming from the west. However, when I remove my sunglasses I discover that the clouds aren't actually as gloomy as I had thought they were and the weather doesn't seem as threatening. Have I been fooled by my sunglasses all morning?
I now ascend an easy grade through meadows and here I see an especially beautiful, large, long-haired, blonde marmot -- a really nice specimen! After passing a few small, unnamed lakes, I arrive at larger Lake Marjorie. The weather has improved in the last half hour and the sky is now mostly blue with abundant sunshine, although it is still somewhat unsettled looking. That's okay -- I'll take it! Its windy too, but not objectionably cool at 59°. Its now after noon and I would like to stop for lunch, but Pinchot Pass isn't that far away so I'll just wait until I get there. That will give me a reason to spend some extra time in the pass. The passes, with their great views, are the most pleasant experiences so far on this trip
I keep going, but grow very tired. This climb has become long, steep and difficult. Finally, I reach the pass at 2:00pm. The view to the south is dramatic, magnificent, stupendous -- the best yet! High, majestic peaks await me! To climb up to a pass and suddenly have this fantastic, unknown view to the other side, almost takes your breath away!
Chris and Jay from Oregon are here and Chris looks a lot like Dana Carvey, the comedian. I talk to Chris during lunch while Jay backtracks down the south side of the pass to look for a water bottle that he has lost somewhere in the last ten minutes. They are hiking the JMT from Whitney to Yosemite, but amazingly did not take the 2 mile side trip to the summit of Mt. Whitney, the highest point in the continental United States, even though they had never been there before! Its hard for me to imagine why they would skip that.
The weather is good here, 60° and fairly calm with sunshine, and I am content to sit and relax for awhile. Jay comes back with his water bottle and I wait for the two of them to leave and then set up my tripod for self-pictures. CATASTROPHE! The wind blows my tripod over and my camera takes an unprotected nose-dive into the rocks! OH NO! I may end up carrying a 3 pound piece of junk for the rest of the trip! A quick check shows that it still works! Its scratched and dinged up a bit and the lens doesn't zoom quite as smoothly as before, but it works! Maybe there's something to this business about Nikons being rugged. I'm becoming a believer, since this is the second time that I've slammed this camera into the rocks without consequence. Still, what a tragedy this might have been!
I leave the pass at 3:00pm, feeling a little queasy. I don't know if its from illness, exertion, something I ate, or the camera scare, but I feel just a little… off. The weather has turned really nice with mostly blue skies and a few pleasant white clouds, but it is still fairly windy. I walk past alpine lakes and meadows down into a wonderful valley. At 4:15pm, I pass Twin Lakes, a possible stopping point, and keep going. I want to have a short day up to Rae Lakes tomorrow so that I will have plenty of time to enjoy that highly-touted area and to take a planned side trip to Sixty Lakes basin.
This is a long descent and although the grades are no worse than the north side of Pinchot Pass, it is much longer. I enter the Woods Creek drainage and am pestered intensely by mosquitoes. Even though I am well below treeline, this drainage is open, barren, rocky, and without much forest, probably due to steep canyon walls. I've put in a lot of miles today and now my right leg is suddenly very painful where the top of my boot is pressing above my outside ankle. I will need to stop very soon.
At 5:30pm, I find an acceptable spot that is close to the trail. Its windy here, but its windy everywhere, so this will do. Its not ideal, but my leg hurts and the time is right to stop. I'm at JMT mile 66.3, so I've had another 19 mile day. Its no wonder my boot is bothering me. There are some mosquitoes here, but they're not bad. Its the wind that's bothersome. I filter water and then wash up, but not very well because of the cold wind. I'll be glad when the weather returns to normal. Dinner tonight is Polynesian chicken and its good, but not nearly as good as last night's lasagna. I hang my food bag and batten down camp. The sky is mostly clear, but there's a big white cloud bank hanging to the north and with this wind, who knows what the weather will do. I'm in bed at 8:45pm. I feel cold, the the temperature is a mild 52°.
Day 6
Day 8