160 Miles on the John Muir Trail, 1992
TUESDAY, JULY 7 -- DAY 9
I'm up at 5:00am, my earliest morning yet. I've been lying in bed awake for about an hour now and can't sleep, being a little antsy about the long, strenuous day ahead. I slept warm and well until about 4:00am, when I awoke for no apparent reason. During the night, I looked out the tent door and saw brilliant stars, but this morning the sky is not so clear and about 50% filled with clouds. Its still breezy, but not as bad as yesterday, except for the occasional gust. The thrush are singing again -- I'm getting very fond of their melodious tune.
I fetch my food bags, which are still intact, and cook oatmeal for breakfast. This is really a fairly nice morning and certainly the best in the last 3 days. There is less wind and the sky is mostly blue. Oh sure, there are clouds, but they are mostly big, puffy white ones, with just a few dark ones scattered in.
At 6:30am, I'm loaded up and on my way. Onward -- to the pass! I'll start with a 1500' climb over Glen and then later in the day I will tackle the formidable 3500' climb to Forester Pass. I hope that I've got it in me! This morning's climb starts out gently enough on a moderate grade to a basin with seven or eight small tarns. My legs feel as good today as they have any morning, thankfully with no rubbery feeling at all. Mentally, I am psyched for the challenge. I'll be doing two passes again today, matching my friend Alan's feat when he hiked the JMT in the 1970's. He told me that typically, no one crosses two passes in the same day, but he did it twice on his trip. If I am successful today, then I will have done it twice also. Glen and Forester today, and Mather and Pinchot two days ago.
Beyond the basin with the seven or eight tarns, the trail becomes very steep in places, and is quite difficult, almost like climbing stairs. Once again, I'm reduced to walking for 30 seconds and resting for 15 seconds, but I'm intentionally pacing myself so as not to burn out here before the more serious challenge of climbing to Forester. Also, I don't have anything to prove to myself. I know what my climbing abilities are. Too often, I feel the need to push hard and go fast, to prove something to myself I suppose. Exactly what it is that I'm trying to prove, I don't really know. Probably that I'm not getting old. And at 41 years, I'm still in my prime.
Its a little breezy, but I'm in the sun and comfortable in long pants, flannel shirt and gloves. Finally, the grade eases off and heads west toward a ridge. Without really knowing exactly where the pass is, I expected the trail to curve and go behind the Painted Lady, and that I still had a long ways to go, but nope, I'm almost there.
I arrive at the pass at 7:50am and congratulate myself on handling the difficult climb so easily. I fairly breezed up that one! This is a neat pass because it is really just a low spot on a sharply defined ridge. The views are good to the north and south, but not as majestic as the southern view from Pinchot. Rae Lakes lies immediately below to the northeast, still in the morning shade. I see mountains that I recognize in the vicinity of Pinchot Pass, and maybe even all the way back to Mather Pass from two days ago. The Palisade crest juts up on the northern horizon. To the south are big sharp mountains with a low valley to the southwest. I suspect that my trail will descend into the low valley, bottom out, and then climb back to the southeast, but that's only a guess.
The sky is now almost completely clear, except for some fairly benign looking clouds to the far north. Maybe this means the end of the crummy weather at last. I hope! It feels nice sitting here in the sun. The temperature is about 45° and a its little breezy, but I'm in a sheltered spot on the north side of the ridge, so I'm comfortable. I take a few pictures and leave, skipping the self-pictures because of fear of the tripod blowing over again in the wind.
Soon, I meet two middle-aged guys from Phoenix, heading over the pass to meet Louis and his buddies. I round a corner and have good views of large, pleasant-looking Charlotte Lake and then meet five guys on horseback, leading three pack mules. They are doing the entire JMT, heading for Yosemite. Eventually, I arrive at the junction with the trail to Kearsarge Pass and stop for a 15 minute snack break. I'm back in forest again and the air is calm and warm in the luxurious sunshine.
As I sit here, chewing on licorice, a tame deer walks up and stands within 10' of me. When I don't offer to share my snack, he calmly walks away again. I continue down the trail and five minutes later, I meet two guys at a the junction with a second trail to Kearsarge Pass. They have just come over that pass and are now headed for Rae Lakes. There seems to be a lot of people in this area and a check of the map shows why. I am not far from Onion Valley, which is one of the easiest and most popular access points to the backcountry.
I begin a long descent into a beautiful, picture-perfect valley with high pointy peaks on both sides and forest in the middle. Its like something out of a storybook. I pass a junction with yet a third trail to Kearsarge Pass and continue downgrade. Boy, this is turning out to be a very long, steep drop. The trail is loose, dusty and sort of chewed up, probably from stock. Yep, there's the tell-tale, objectionable horse manure on the trail.
Something is crying in the forest ahead. Oh great, just my luck it will probably be a bear cub and I'll get mauled by its overly protective mother! I proceed cautiously, nervously, looking for danger. No, it is not a bear, its a bird! A Clarks Nutcracker! Their cry has fooled me before and I have noticed that they sound a little like a bear cub. Not that I've actually ever heard a bear cub before.
Eventually, my trail bottoms out at the junction with a trail to Cedar Grove. A sign says that Forester Pass is 7.0 miles away. Forester…. the feared one! I've heard people say how hard it is, especially from this side, but I've also heard that it is very scenic. I don't know whether to dread it or look forward to it. I feel good, so I'll look forward to it. I'm a little nervous about the challenge, but also excited! I meet a lone hiker heading for Kearsarge and then I start climbing towards the pass. Forester awaits! And its all uphill from here, 3500 vertical feet up to a lofty 13,000' altitude! Its warm now and I'm down to just a T-shirt as I follow rollicking Bubbs Creek upstream. The grade starts out gently enough, through a nice pine forest, past non-distinct Vidette Meadow, but it soon becomes more demanding. But that's good! The steeper it is, the quicker I gain elevation -- let's get this climb underway!
I pass through steadily decreasing woodland, heading for the beloved high meadows. After awhile, the grade eases somewhat and becomes only moderate in difficulty. I overtake two guys who are also headed in my direction, but are presently stopped beside the trail taking a break. I chat with them briefly and find that they too, will climb Forester today and camp somewhere on the other side. No doubt I will see them again today and I'm fighting the urge to turn this into a contest. I need to pace myself, not race up the grade. That's one of the reasons I like to hike alone: besides the lack of distractions and the increased focus on nature, there's no urge to compete with companions.
I pass an overweight man with 2 walking sticks, headed downgrade. At noon, I'm mostly out of the trees and stop for lunch in open terrain just below Center Peak. Stately Junction Peak and other high mountains are in view ahead and, although Forester Pass is not in sight, I know from the map that it is just beside Junction Peak. This is a pleasant spot and I'm content to relax for twenty minutes or so, but my eyes keep checking the trail to see if the two guys behind me are catching up. I try not to care, but I do. They haven't appeared by the time lunch is over and I relax, knowing that if they haven't caught me by now, they probably won't.
Onward! I'm struggling up some grades now that look moderate but feel steep. I'm beginning to get tired, but still have 2000' to go! Legs, don't fail me now! Oh, I know that I'll make it. I feel pretty good and even if I do tire out, I can still make it, it will just be harder. I come to a mercifully flat stretch beside a small tarn and, although it doesn't last long, its just what I need.
Its a nice day today! The temperature is 63°, with a moderate breeze and bright sun. There are a few wispy white clouds over the pass, but the sky is blue everywhere else. JOY! Before this trip, I never would have believed that temperatures in the low-60's could be so comfortable, but its ideal for hiking! Nor would I have believed that the weather could be so agreeable at this altitude, but that seems to be characteristic of the Sierras. Mt. Humphreys, Arizona high point at 12600' elevation, is almost never this nice.
Now I can see Junction Peak and Forester Pass ahead. The pass has the appearance of lying on top of an impassible, vertical wall and I can't tell from here how the trail is going to attack that. I pass a solo backpacker headed down, on his way to Yosemite from Whitney. I arrive at tarn 12248 (named for its altitude) and stop for a 10 minute break, during which I fetch and treat water. I see now that the pass is not exactly where I thought, but a little to the west, where its more believable that a trail could go. Home stretch -- 900' to go! I can do it! I feel good! I feel strong!
I meet yet another solo backpacker coming down from the pass. During our brief chat, he claims that he was knocked off his feet three times by high winds on Mt. Whitney and strongly advises against trying to camp on the summit. Instead, he suggests that I consider Guitar Lake on the west side of Whitney as a good stopping point for tomorrow night, to be as close to the base of the mountain as possible. Yeah, that sounds good, either that or the tentsite just below the junction with the Whitney trail, that someone told me about a few days ago. I'll decide when I get there.
This last bit is very steep, but because I'm almost there it doesn't really bother me too much. At 3:25pm, I arrive -- Forester Pass! Spectacular views abound to the north, but the views to the south are less impressive. One other person is here, kind of a hippie-looking, long-bearded guy. I sit and have a nice chat with him. The elevation may be 13,200' above sea level, but its warm and sunny and calm and I am more than comfortable and content to sit for a long time to enjoy the high altitude atmosphere. But boy, do I stink! I've spent too many hours in these clothes!
Although the view to the north is magnificent, in my opinion its not quite as good as the southern view from Pinchot Pass a few days ago, which is still my favorite. To the south, the view is somewhat of a letdown. The Kaweah range appears, looking strikingly rugged and grand, but the area where I am headed looks surprisingly mundane and gives the impression that this may be where the Sierras begin tapering off. Yet, some of the Sierra's highest mountains are in this area. Whitney is not visible, being out of sight behind a ridge to the south-southeast. I feel a little demoralized…. the end of the big mountains (not really), end of the trip, end of the fun. There are still high peaks yet to come, but they appear not very rugged and look more like just plain rolling hills, even though some of them are actually around 14,000' high. They just don't look all that beautiful from here.
The hippie looking guy takes several pictures of me with my camera. Although I normally prefer to do this myself with the tripod and self timer, I am a little nervous about that now after my tripod blew over on Pinchot Pass. The two guys that were following me up from Vidette Meadow arrive, and then a lone hiker from the south. Its almost crowded now, with five of us lounging around in the pass. A couple of them tell of previous years when they had tried to climb over this pass and had been unable to because of deep snow, even though it was this same time of the year. That hadn't occurred to me until now, that I might not have been able to complete this trip due to snow-blocked passes.
Its getting late and I've got several miles yet to go to get down into the trees and find a campsite, so at 4:30pm, I leave the pass and head down its south side, where the trail is cut right into the steep mountainside. When I reach Diamond Mesa, which is a wide flat meadow, I look back toward the pass and which appears as a nearly vertical wall where no mere trail could go.
I have easy walking from here. The trail is in good shape and descends gently downhill toward the distant trees. This valley is very wide and unspectacular and again it feels as though I've left the best part of the Sierras and entered the foothills. In reality I'm now in the vicinity of the highest peaks in the range. There are more 14,000' peaks in this area than anywhere else in California. Even so, it was much prettier on the other side.
I feel reasonably fresh after all the climbing and miles today and it feels nice just to walk mindlessly along in the hazy sun, enjoying the nice evening.
"Always... the rhythmic, body-honing,
soul-cleansing act of walking."
- Colin FletcherBy the time I arrive at Tyndall Creek, at 6:00pm, the sky has become fairly overcast and once again detracts from the photo possibilities. Will I never have a completely clear day?! I drop my pack at a campsite near a bear box, just south of the junction with the Lake South America trail. One other person is camped near here and I look around for the best available site. Its late and I'm not too choosy, so I settle on a well-used and not very private campsite near the bear box.
While I'm setting up camp, the neighboring camper comes by to say hello. He is a thin guy in his mid-50's, named Roger, who is really camping in a simple style, with a bivy bag under a tarp for shelter. I fetch water and go up the hill through the trees to find a private place to wash. The sun is just about ready to disappear behind a mountain and I need to get this chore out of the way while there is still some warmth left, although the sun is only barely shining through the clouds. At least its calm, so washing is not too uncomfortable. There are mosquitoes here and I wash quickly to minimize my exposure to them. Its too late and not sunny enough to do laundry, so I'll have to put up with my stinky clothes for one more day.
The sun makes a brief appearance and I realize that this really is a pretty valley, but just looks drab due to the cloudy sky. The two guys that I saw at Vidette Meadow and Forester Pass now arrive and look around for a campsite. The don't find a desirable spot and continue on, towards other campsites I presume. I cook dinner, tasty spaghetti, fighting off the many mosquitoes, then put my food bag in the bear box and hit the sack at 9:00pm. Its been a long day and I'm tired. Two passes, 18 miles, and a 5000' elevation gain, all with a 50+ pound pack. Zowee! No wonder I'm tired.
Day 8
Day 10