MUIR TRAIL RANCH REVISITED

DAY 7 - August 14, 2010: Big Changes

What a great dawn! Up there I was used to going to bed before dark and waking up not much after 5, as the sky was just beginning to lighten. This morning we were in a spectacular location for catching the sunrise, and seeing the shadows change as we crossed nearby Selden Pass.

Love hiking, even the uphill is OK, when I’m fresh. And getting the hard part over early. Actually up to the top of Selden was no sweat. Are all the passes going to be like that? Not likely. Silver and Selden are under 11,000 feet. Everything after is 12 or 13. Anyway it was up, up, and before we knew it, over.

Surprise! Up at the top are Rick and Diane, our friends from Silver Pass Lake and the Vermillion adventure. They’d taken the ferry back to the JMT that day we’d done the Bear Creek slog. I figured they’d have been at Muir Trail Ranch the day before, but no, they were in no hurry. Great to see them, great folks, not youngsters any more either, but as committed to a life of adventure, to just plain living, as . . . well, I guess, as I am. Anyhow they were as surprised to see us as I was them. They’d looked down from above at the steepness of the Bear Creek trail the day before figured we’d be a long time coming up that one.

It was gonna be an all-downhill day after that, the last part a long super-steep set of switchbacks down into the San Joaquin River canyon, but a lot of it would be very beautiful.

On the way down to the beautiful Sallie Keyes lakes there were a bunch of creek crossings and smaller lakes, as well, little gems set in the ancient and bright Sierra stone. I kept wishing I had time to stop and jump in. That’s one of the problems with a trip like this: you’re on a schedule, you have marching orders, and you have to march, march, march, even if you’re only doing nine miles a day. I couldn’t help thinking back to my aborted plans three years ago, to make twelve miles a day, so I could fit the whole trail into my vacation time from Kaiser.

Anniell seemed to be doing better with the rock-hopping, or maybe the crossings weren’t as challenging. I was going great guns on the downhills, but she was finding them a little tough, because one knee was a little stiff. Somehow I’d managed to get this old without having chronic pain in the joints, even though I’d fractured a hip and torn a meniscus in bike accidents years back. Luck of the draw, I guess.

We took a break at Sallie Keyes Lakes. These lakes had great natural campsites, in deep, magical woods where big trees dominated without a lot of brush and clutter on the forest floor. Anniell was hanging out and talking with Rick and Diane, who were going to spend the night there. She was sure her friends would be catching up with her soon, and told me to just go on ahead, she’d see me down at our resupply point at Muir Trail Ranch.

I was looking forward to getting in early, setting up camp and taking care of all the resupply business. Weeks ago I (and Jim and Dustin, no longer in the mix) had sent buckets of food to Muir Trail Ranch, which (for a small fee) is kind and together enough to organize and keep them for JMT through-hikers. As planned, I was low on food at this point. There would be WAY more than I could use, as we’d sent enough for 12 days for 3 people. But I was limited in what I could take, because it would all have to fit into a 7-liter bear canister.

So after taking the obligatory pictures, I threw my pack on and hit the trail again.

After Sallie Keyes the trail descends into a deeper forest.


I haven’t mentioned bugs much yet in this blog. That’s because the bugs that seriously bug are mostly mosquitoes, and while other hikers had been complaining about them, obviously they had not experienced anything like what I had on my practice hikes above Tuolumne in July. Then they were so thick that it was hard to avoid breathing them in. So thick that once you set up a tent, the sensible thing to do was to get inside it and not come out. Swarms, and not all that put off by DEET. The bugs in August, while annoying, have not ever come close to that level. However, at this point in the trail, another flying insect became a major pest: the deer fly, the horse fly, whatever you call it. Anyhow, nasty biting flies. I slapped on the DEET but was still killing dozens (does that count as killing wildlife?) that landed on me each hour on this leg of the trip. Death came to many, yes, but not before many had taken their price from me in blood.

The rest of the hike down was maybe a hint of what would come in the 12 days after this. I was really by myself for the first time. I found myself noticing my surroundings more, and generally thinking much more about my life, the trip itself, and the meaning of it all. Soon I’d be on my own, hiking solo for the first time on this trip. Now that will be different. But, I think, anyhow hope, good.

It was good to get to the campsites by the river before 2PM, had a chance to get a good site, be all set up, and take care of resupply with lots of time left. Paid the exorbitant fee to briefly use the internet and send e-mails to my kids, and to Jim, to let them know I’d gotten this far OK.

I had to leave a lot of food . . . this other backpackers would be able to come in and pick up free. Had to pack food for 12 days in this small canister. Had to leave all that great trail mix behind, sure it would have come in handy . . . but on the bright side, I have every morning and evening meal covered, somehow. With freeze-dried food, though. I am beginning to recognize the limitations of freeze-dried camping food. My appetite is going away, for one thing.


Anniell and her two friends, Cindy and Jennifer, pulled in about two hours after I did. It was good to see that come together as planned. She and I had had a good run together and had become friends, but she was glad to be with people from her club, and I was looking forward to finding my own pace. I was sure we’d be seeing each other again, anyhow.

So, onward and upward! Tomorrow it would be to one of the most beautiful sections of the trail, one I’d already visited: Evolution Valley in King’s Canyon National Park.
Next Installment: Crisis in Confidence

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