BACK WHERE WE BELONG

DAY 6 - August 13, 2010: Feels like home

Woke up refreshed, much better mood than yesterday, in spite of the mosquitoes, which were worse than they’d been below. Vermillion and the trek up from civilization already felt distant. The air was thin and crisp, the water was cold and clear and good-tasting. That stop down there, with the steak and the good breakfast, was a good thing, I guess, but it was distracting, not what I came up here for. Hey, what did I come up here for? Hmmm. Let’s think about that. Or, let’s not, right now. Right now, let’s just get going. Miles to go before I sleep, some beautiful miles ahead.

This has been one of the sweetest campsites I’ve had this summer, wide, soft ground, large granite stones to sit on. Bear Creek wide, calm, and gorgeous. Wish I could stay and hang out in this area for some days yet, but the schedule won’t let us wait. We’re already going to be a day behind my original plan, because Anniell’s plan calls for staying at Marie Lake tonight, where I’d had us starting two miles ahead of our current position and going all the way to Muir Trail Ranch. No matter, I hear Marie Lake is gorgeous, too. Anniell and I are good hiking buddies, I think it’s made it easier for each of us that the other has been along.

The guys yesterday were right, it was a walk of only another ten or fifteen minutes before we hit the JMT again, and it felt strangely like home. The “10,000 ft – no wood campfires” sign was like an old friend. Back on track with the Whitney countdown. The uphill wasn’t crazy steep, and the trail wasn’t full of sharp rocks jutting out at crazy angles or steps of 2 feet up.

After a few minutes back on the JMT, it starts looking like a hikers’ freeway, a lot more folks than we’d seen before on the trail. I was suddenly passed by a cheerfully young couple carrying silver parasols, what a concept! I guess it was keeping them cool. I was tickled. It was like something out of a Cocteau movie, ever so slightly on the absurd side. But wait! Not two hours later I saw another silver umbrella, coming down from the other direction, and this guy . . . looked like he was wearing a skirt!Then ran into a couple more couples of varying ages, and passed a bunch of young guys taking a long break.

Crossing another serious “rock-hopper” of a stream, waited for Anniell to come along, to see if she needed help. Just after she arrived, a group of guys on a fishing trip came marching energetically along, a couple of them with big, big bellies. I guess if you’re under 40 you can have those and still comfortably carry a pack up there . . . had to admire them, because I don’t think I could have! In their company was an older guy, in good shape, as it turned out a retired Army colonel. Anniell was hesitating, having trouble picking out the right spot to cross, but the colonel graciously offered to take her backpack across and let her follow without anything on her back, which they did. When he got over, though, he said aside to me “now that’s what you were supposed to do. They need to be spoiled sometimes.” To this I answered, “I was just encouraging her to be all that she can be.” Not sure if he got the reference. Anyhow everyone crossed safely. And the guys went on past, again marching along at an amazing pace.

Passed the parasol pair taking a break, and we waved to each other. At the next big stream following that I took my own break, filling water bottles and lying back on the grass for a few minutes, during which time the place filled up with people to the point where it was like a hikers’ convention. Anniell was talking to them of the umbrella persuasion, and suddenly the guy came over and introduced himself. “She says you’re a trumpet player. So am I,” he said. Turns out Mark and Julia are from St. Louis, where he freelances on the legit circuit and she plays with the St. Louis Symphony. We compared notes about practice methods, etc., and it was suddenly hard to feel we were way out in the middle of nowhere.

Wanting more solitude, I waited till everyone had moved on, including Anniell, before starting up again. The two of us arranged to meet where she was planning a lunch break, at Rose Meadow, where the climb up to Marie would start in earnest.

She was still munching and relaxing when I got there. One difference in our hiking styles is that I like to take a lot of short breaks, while she takes fewer and longer ones. So after a few minutes I moved on, and she said great, she’d catch up in a bit.


It actually wasn’t all that long before I pulled up to Marie Lake. This was a short day, only seven or eight miles, and it was great to get into this beautiful place early and have a chance to rest. And everybody had been right, this was a gem of a place. We were planning on camping at a stream crossing that showed on the map, but we never saw the stream, so we camped up at the southern end of the lake, just before Selden Pass, which we’d go over right around sunrise the next day, then on down to our resupply point at Muir Trail Ranch.

Somehow the trip so far just seems like a warm-up. I've been out nearly a week, you'd think it would feel like more than that, no? A warm-up to what? Well, after tomorrow, Anniell's friends will have caught up, that's the plan, and I'll be hiking alone, finding my own pace, probably having more inner conversations than socializing. Also I've already seen everything from Muir Trail Ranch up to Muir Pass, but everything after that—including the next 5 passes, plus Whitney—will be new, and I'll pretty much be committed to finishing the whole thing. Once over Muir Pass there's no easy exit except to just keep on truckin'.

Meanwhile, this brief rest at Marie Lake is one more experience among many that are, well, sublime.

(sorry, you're just gonna have to click on this picture if you wanta really see it . . . )

Next entry: resupply and a new beginning