AND OVER THE FIRST HUMP

DAY 3 - August 10, 2010: down, up, and over Silver pass

In the morning, it became much clearer what a beautiful spot we'd picked to camp. I've rarely in this long life seen as beautiful a sunrise as that one over Lake Virginia, sitting at 10,338 feet (3100m), the peaks and crags beyond reflected in crystalline perfection in the stillness of the water. It sits cradled up high in a shallow alpine basin, nearly as high as the surrounding ranges.

(note: you can click on these pictures and get a bigger, better view. The one above, for instance, really benefits from that)

In fact, the best story of this day is the natural beauty we moved through. My own personal story, at least for much of the day, was of discomfort. I woke up a little uncomfortable and shaky from the altitude, and besides, it was FREEZING, and besides, the mosquitoes were coming out in force, and we did have to drop 1500 feet, down even below Tully Hole, and then climb nearly 2000 up to get over the pass.


This, I’m starting to grasp, is much of what doing the JMT is about. Great beauty, a lot of discomfort. Having fun going down? Wait a minute, what goes down must come up, get ready! I’d see hikers doing the slow slog up the other way, but wouldn’t feel sorry for them, because we were both in the same boat. In not too long they’d be doing the down and I the up. Besides, the downs weren’t all that easy, either. A lot of them are rocky, and you have to watch your feet all the time to make sure you’re not stepping where you could twist an ankle, or slip and fall.
Downhills were hard for Anniell. Her right knee would get stiff, and she was constantly watching for swelling. Also, when it came to streams, she said “I’m not very good at rock-hopping.” So if I was ahead, I’d often wait if there was a stream that looked hard to cross, to make sure she’d get across OK. Most of them weren’t that hard.








The way up to Silver Pass, the first of seven 12- to 13-thousand foot passes we’d have to cross before Whitney, from the bottom of the trail at Fish creek was relentlessly steep. But I took my regular breaks, enjoyed the view, and had some good talks with other hikers coming up or going down. There was a thick, wide granite ledge above, and to the right a waterfall tumbled over it.Up above, I knew, was Squaw Lake, where we’d rest before going over the top. But where was the top? Looking up, I couldn’t see anything that would pass for a pass, just forbidding peaks and ridges curving around where the lake would be.

Once up at the lake the location of the pass wasn’t any more obvious. What the heck, the trail doesn’t lie. I got a head start on Anniell, who was still relaxing and having some snacks, and started up the steep twists and switchbacks that would get us there. I was seeing why the guidebook had called the first day’s scenery “monontonous.” This was anything but. The trail wound up and around a number of lakes, names inspired by the American Indian: Chief Lake, Warrior Lake, Papoose Lake, Lake of the Lone Indian. And
the higher we got the more scenic it was.

Nearing what had to be the top of the trail, I still couldn’t figure out where the pass was . . . couldn’t see a trail going over anywhere, and everything looked steep and forbidding. The place we seemed to be headed was covered with snow, still. Wait a minute . . . could it be? I saw figures moving above the snow. Hmm. Yes, that was where the trail was headed! When I got closer, I saw that the trail headed right into the snow field, but that there was a sort of rut off on the right side, that just went straight up, and it looked as if it had been made by people just scrabbling up, using hands and feet together. Hmm. What the heck, I figured it was a good day to die, so I just followed those tracks on up. Short and sweet, actually, not too hard, but it could have been a nasty drop if I’d slipped. Anyhow I got up, no problem, and it was sweet to be on the level top. One of the good hikers up there took my picture. One pass down, 6 to go. Not to mention Whitney.

From there it was just a mile or so down to our camp for the night at another stunner, Silver Pass Lake. We pitched camp at the far end of the lake near some trees, cooked dinner, and got another good long night’s rest. Ten hours, that's about what I've been doing!

Next entry: why didn’t I bring a hat?