COMMITTED

DAY 9 - August 16, 2010: Over the hump again
Once again dawn broke clear and bright. Didn’t get up early, wanted to feel as rested as possible. I was ready to go on. Whatever had happened yesterday, it couldn’t have been that serious. My heart was beating at an easy rate, I was breathing fine, and I was definitely strong. Whatever weight the new supplies had added, it must be less than the amount I’d lost since the beginning of the trip! After all, I was taking in not much more than a thousand calories a day, and burning what must have been five thousand, I could feel the fat shrinking off. Hey, I needed that!
Fixed a big breakfast, big as I could anyhow—I was getting creative with these—of mashed potatoes and corn, with mushroom gravy mixed in. Actually one of the tastiest meals I had the whole trip, and I planned to repeat it as often as I could. I did theoretically have 12 days of food in the bear canister, but it was going to be tight.

Started up the grade, comfortably and slowly. Again, I’d been over this terrain before, so I knew what was coming. I was planning to make nearly ten miles, 2000 feet up and over Muir Pass. Hard going, but it would be some of the most beautiful country on the entire trail, all the way to the top. And so I went up the easy grade of the valley, passing more beautiful meadows, with peaks and domes in the background. Took a planned stop at a confluence of streams below the ridge I’d have to climb to reach Evolution Lake. Filled my bottles with water again.
At this point, I’m going to repeat something I wrote in the account of my abortive attempt three years ago: I’ve been drinking water straight from these streams and lakes since I was 11 years old, using no filters, no little purification tablets, no radiation wands, nada. There has been far too much made of the possibilities of Sierra water being unsafe. There is an article you should read, if you are really wondering about this: Giardia In The Sierra. It speaks for itself.
While I was parked at this little rest stop, a regular cavalcade of people and animals pulled in, looked to be a couple of families with . . . llamas! Or some sort of miniature llama, I guess . . . several animals carrying packs, with child seats on them. Never seen anything like it! The adults were carrying full packs, but the kids certainly seemed to have it easy!
I let them move on, then started up the switchbacks. Today I seemed to be having a lot easier time, only stopped a few times on the way up, and kept up a reasonable pace. Maybe yesterday’s weakness was just a minor aberration. Still not at full strength, but not suffering too much. And the stops I made were comfortable, and made for great photo-taking.

From here on it was just a question of plodding steadily forward. The grades weren’t impossibly steep, and while the trail at some points was annoyingly rock-strewn, it wasn’t too hard to negotiate.

Evolution Lake and, just above it, Sapphire Lake, were spectacular, just as I'd remembered. If I come this way again, it will be to come here and spend some serious relaxing time. Maybe the hike up will be easier if I'm not thinking all the time that I have twelve more days to go!
After another nice long break I just took it easy and moved on up, finding my own pace. Before long I’d reached the Wanda Lake, the last significant body of water before Muir Pass, and stopped awhile to enjoy it.
I’d taken about seven hours to get to this point, though, and was starting to feel really fatigued again. From Wanda Lake I could actually see the top of Muir Pass—there’s a stone hut up there, built in the 1930’s by the Sierra Club—but it got closer very, very slowly.
Suddenly I was, again, feeling more tired than I thought I should. Oh, well, just a
question of a couple of miles. Was I just babying myself, psyching myself out, or was something else going on? No matter, onward and upward. Made it up to the top a lot later than I’d wanted, but with plenty of time to get down and set up camp at Helen Lake on the other side. Once over, I’d be really committed to completing the trail: the easiest way out would be just to run the course, go over all those passes—three down now, four to go before Whitney, each higher than the last, still over a hundred miles to go, but there would be no quick way back to a road, and even if I could get to a road, no easy way to get from the trailhead back to my car, back at Mammoth Lakes.
Going over the pass, it was a steep drop into Lyell Canyon. Quite a contrast from the Evolution side, too. The canyon still had lots of snow, and was quickly darkening with the late afternoon shadows, curving down narrow and forbidding. But I found a flat space near the lake to set up the tent, and climbed inside to get a rest before dinner. For the first time in quite some time, there were no bugs. Did nothing live here? Aha, something must . . . just heard a frog.

Life is so simple. Days are walking. Nights are sleeping. For brief moments I eat, never very much. I drink lots of water. Life is so simple.Next Entry: through the canyons of Mordor

CROSSROADS

DAY 8 - August 15, 2010: Beam me outa here

Chalk it up to age? Inflated expectations? Eating badly? Psyched myself out? Last night ate one of those “Mountain House” freeze-dried dinners. Teriyaki chicken sounded good to a guiltily confirmed carnivore like me, but this stuff tasted terrible. I was losing my appetite, nothing much from the bear canister tasted good, and I was wondering how much nutrition I was actually getting. Anyhow I went to bed early and set the alarm for 4:45, planning to get out before the sun. This would be my first day of solo hiking, and the trek up to Evolution Valley marked the point where 3 years ago my first attempt at the JMT fell apart. Didn’t actually sleep that much this night, spent much of it talking to myself, saying today would be different from the last time. Woke up feeling a little shaky, a little nervous.

Whatever it was, today was one of those damn days when not much goes the way you’d had in mind, even though getting off reasonably early, 6:45 AM, and I guess the first couple of hours were pretty routine. Felt good to be out on the trail as the sun was rising. It was quiet. Saw a doe with two very cute fawns, but couldn’t get a picture because they were just too skittish. Making a good pace, but then, it was a very gradual uphill, and mornings are always easier. Took a planned break after 3.3 miles, at the Piute Pass turnoff, where the JMT entered Kings Canyon, where it would stay for many a day. Took a nice long break and filled up with some of that delicious Sierra water cascading down Piute Creek.

It wasn’t till after the break that my pack seemed heavier than it had before. Well, of course it was, since it had just been filled with twelve days of food. But it shouldn’t have felt that much heavier, should it? Up from Piute Creek the trail was getting steeper, too, and rougher. Constantly having to look at the feet, and some tricky places where the angled rocky surfaces were dusted with sand. Not really steep, but a steady grind upwards, and I started the pattern of short breaks again. Pretty solitary at this point, hardly anyone on the trail.

Having been here before, I knew the trail bridged the San Joaquin river and then back again at the Goddard Canyon cutoff before switching back and forth in earnest in switchbacks up the steep climb to Evolution. Scenery in this section, compared to what’s up over the ridge, is a bit monotonous. Took a nice long break after the second bridge, felt pretty sure I’d get my second wind.

Putting on the pack again at the bottom of the switchbacks, I felt a wave of fatigue. Where did that come from? I started counting switchbacks as I went up, taking short breaks after ten, then after five more, then five more. When I’d done this stretch three years ago I hadn’t needed to stop at all, but suddenly I was dog-tired. The food couldn’t be weighing that much. I sat down for my third or fourth break, and suddenly, wow! My pupils must have dilated, everything turned white, I felt tremendously dizzy, and had to fight to keep consciousness. What was this? Couldn’t remember feeling anything like this. Altitude? Only about 9200 feet, I’d crossed two 11,000 foot passes with no problem. Should be used to this by now. I sat there long enough that couple of groups of hikers passed. I put on a normal face, acting as if everything was fine.

But whatever the reason, I was more than a little freaked out. I was thinking that maybe I wasn’t cut out for all this after all. Was I physically in serious trouble? Was that a mild heart attack or something? Had I just had a little stroke? Shouldn’t take a chance on that, right? And on and on. In the end, decided, hell, I was almost all the way up to Evolution Valley, it was still early in the day, I’d just plod on slowly and carefully, watch myself, get up to my goal of McClure Meadow, one of the most beautiful spots in the universe, set up camp, take stock of myself, get a good dinner and a good rest, and see how I felt the next day. Fair enough.

After reaching the valley, there was a deep stream to ford. This had been the place, three years ago, where water had come pouring in through the soles and I’d realized my boots were ruined. This time I just marched through, I was wearing trail runners. They got soaked, but I had another pair of shoes, and not that far to go this afternoon. Actually the cool water felt good.

McClure Meadow was not much more than a mile away by this time, but it felt like several miles, I had to keep stopping. When I finally got there I felt physically beaten down. Reminded me of how I’d felt during my bout with dengue fever last January.
Had my choice of a lot of beautiful spots to camp, picked the nicest I saw, and, with some difficulty, set up camp. Tired, yes, but not too tired to take a few shots of this amazing scenery. Cooked up a big, big dinner, wolfed it down, got to bed even earlier than usual, falling asleep musing on just what the hell had happened that afternoon. But already I was leaning towards pushing up and over Muir Pass tomorrow.

Next Entry: To be or not to be . . .