Day 62: June 16 Cont
After hitting 900 miles it was a cruisy 3.5 mile off trail walk to Horseshoe Lake. Normally we’d walk to Red’s Meadow Resort, which is right on trail, and catch a shuttle into Mammoth. Just my luck, the resort is only open on weekends this season because of road work during the week. So it adds another 7 mile detour to the trip.
When coming down the trail we talked to so many locals enjoying the beautiful day and the beautiful McCloud Lake. So many people were curious about our journey. We even received some trail magic from Kim, who just dropped off her son and ex husband off to the trail.
We got a ride into town with Jolene and her dad. They dropped us off at the brewery where we experienced more trail magic. Jeff just finished a hike with his daughter when they saw us roll in. After asking a few questions he bought us lunch – a delicious burger and fries. It was truly a blessing.
After lunch we mosied around town. Last time I was here Mammoth was buried in a blanket of smoke. It was nice being able to actually see the mountains this time. We ran into Birdmaster and a few other familiar faces before checking into a motel that really is more like an apartment. After watching a bit of Survivor, it was off to bed.
Day 63: June 17; Zero in Mammoth
In an effort to rest my shin in preparation for more miles, I took this rest day extremely seriously. I barely did any walking – just the bare minimum. It looks okay, still hurts, but I’m confident it’ll slowly get better. I’m pretty sure I bruised my tibia. It’s often said a bone bruise can hurt worse than a fracture. With all the broken bones I’ve had, I can’t be too sure that’s true.
With a lazy resupply (I’m going to definitely be hungry this next stretch) and a delicious lunch, the rest of the day was spent planning and catching up on other duties (like this very blog). It was an early bedtime in anticipation for getting back on trail.
Day 64: June 18; 17 miles + 3.5 bonus miles
Once again, it’s so difficult getting back on trail after a zero day. The first shuttle to trail wasn’t until 9am so it wasn’t a rush to get going. I love Mammoth and wish I could’ve spent more time there, but alas it’s not feasible.
The rest day did some good with the shin, I’d say it’s at least 50% better than a few days ago. I’ll take any progress!
We got to the trailhead and were met with trail magic. It was an assortment of burritos and donuts. After just having a lot of town food and having a low appetite to begin with, I forwent the food and settled for a Capri Sun, memories of grade school flooding back with every sip.
The trial today was brutal. Not because of climbs, not because of ice, and certainly not because of lack of views. I had no energy. Plus the pack was extremely uncomfortable. The bear can was pressing firmly against my back and my hip belt can’t get any tighter, so it’s just bears down on my hips, my right one in particular getting the brunt of it. I probably complained more today than I have all trail.
The one positive was a gorgeous view of Shadow Lake. The PCT and JMT split during this stretch, with the PCT going higher in elevation through Agnew Meadows. Though the JMT passes through Shadow Lake, seeing it from further away at a higher vantage point was truly breathtaking. The lake with mountains in the background with dark clouds surrounding it all was truly dramatic and impressive. I couldn’t stop looking. It may be my favorite view this whole trail. Okay maybe second – nothing can ever beat the north face of Forester.
Speaking of those dark clouds. They boomed with thunder and dropped just a little rain on us. Which was welcome given how hot and humid it was. Doing some of those climbs fully exposed to the sun would not have been enjoyable at all, not that they were anyways.
Eventually, hobbling from fatigue and some pain, we made it to 1000 Island Lake. I blew past it in 2018 and was excited to camp here now. It’s stunning with another dramatic view of Banner Peak commanding attention.
The sun never made it out from the clouds, which didn’t really matter because we got here so late. Exhausted, I refused to set up my tent or stove. Cold dinner and cowboy camping it is! While eating, a JMTer Jessie came over to talk with us. As we were chatting, she looked over at me and what I was eating, eating, “that is the most PCT thing I’ve seen on trail yet”. I was eating Cheerios that I was dunking into canned frosting. I didn’t think twice about what I was eating – it’s high in calories and easy, and what’s not to love about canned frosting?! I guess when you’ve been out here 64 days, you start to forget what’s normal and devolve into whatever gets you through the day, which today was Cheerios and canned frosting.
Cowboy camping may end up biting me later… though it stopped raining hours ago, dark gloomy clouds are rolling in as I type. I pray I won’t be awoken by rain drops at midnight!
Day 65: June 19; 26 Miles
Well, it didn’t rain, but it may as well have. Woke up in the middle of the night to find my sleeping bag absolutely soaked from condensation. Dripping wet. But the good thing about my sleeping bag is it holds heat amazingly, even when wet. So I figured it was the morning’s problem and went back to sleep – after staring at the stars for a few brief moments.
Packed up the soaking wet bag and went onward at 6:18am on the dot. Because of camping restrictions, we knew we were in for a doozy of a day. We cruised over the speed bump known as Island Pass on our way to conquer Donahue Pass and enter Yosemite National Park.
In 2018 I couldn’t see anything on the top of Donahue. The whole basin was filled with smoke. But today I got to see it in all its glory, complete with more snow navigation on the descent, which was quite a doozy. My shin does feel less painful, though I know it’s not loving these long mile days.
After finally getting down Donahue, it was 8.8 miles in Lyell Canyon to Tuolemene Meadows. Those miles were at least flat, but they kept going, and going, and going. They were so annoying and boring that even with a quick dip in the river, I was going crazy. But finally, we made it to the very crowded Tuolemene Meadows. This is where I ended my 2018 JMT experience, crying in disappointment. Today was a much different feeling. I conquered the high Sierra and was ready to move forward on the PCT.
After burgers, fries, and a milkshake, it was time to depart. Already 5:30pm, we had 6.1 miles to go to a campground outside of the restricted camping zone. My feet hurt, shin was angry, and I was just plain tired, but it was what it was. 6 miles really isn’t that much in the grand scheme of things.
And they were pretty awesome miles. Most people explore Yosemite Valley to catch glimpses of El Capitan or Half Dome. It was such a privilege to see the rivers, meadows, mountains, and waterfalls in Yosemite’s backcountry.
We got to the campsite at 7:30pm, but didn’t actually find a suitable spot until 8pm. Given that it’s the first available camping from Tuolemene, it’s understandably packed. And we’re certainly not the last ones to arrive. At 9:30pm currently, people are still walking in looking for a space. But I’m pooped. After a dinner of half a pita, some canned frosting, couple bites of cheese, and a fruit rollup, its eyes shut time for me.
Day 66: June 20; 25 miles
It has been a few days since this fateful day has ended, so I feel less traumatized writing about the sequence of events that led to my worst day on trail yet.
I went to bed with an uneasy feeling about where we were camping. Deep in the woods, it felt dark and heavy. I had a horrible nightmare this night in which all of my animals were ripped one by one from my arms in huge tsunami waves. I’m sure it had a lot to do with the fact I was camping very close to a large very loud waterfall, but let’s just say the day did not start off on the right foot.
The day was nothing but climbing and descending heavily steep grades. It was unbelievable. Going up Benson Pass was the worst yet. I had many moments where I cried, I was physically and emotionally drained and just wanted to sleep. I have never thought about quitting more than I did this day. But I knew these days were going to happen and it was simply a matter of just getting through it.
The day meagered on. And on. And on. After getting to the top of Benson Pass, it was still a number of miles to the intended camp, Benson Lake. I was recommended this spot by many people, referring to it as the Riviera of the Sierra. I was excited to check it out, but by the time I got over Benson Pass, I couldn’t be motivated to even care about any kind of lake, as gorgeous as it may be.
Finally, we were half a mile from the lake. My feet were killing me, desperate for a new pair of shoes. I could not wait to throw down my pack and call it quits for the day. That’s when we descended into the 7th circle of hell. Down and down we went into a full forest full of hungry mosquitoes. They were rampant, and of course the trail was nothing but confusing water crossings. We spent well over half an hour navigating the crossings and trying not to lose all our blood to the mosquitoes. In the panic of trying to get away and not fall into the river during a harrowing crossing, I lost my sunglasses in the process. It was a worthy sacrifice to get out.
Eventually the idea of going half a mile off trail to Benson Lake was thrown into the trash in the effort of trying to get away from the mosquitoes. We climbed out a couple hundred feet to where the infestation was at least half of what it was in the pit. It was 8pm and we had been hiking for nearly 14 hours. I was so done with the day and spent the rest of the short night seeking refuge in my tent. I was too tired to cook dinner so tuna packet it was. The end of a day, I was ready to put it behind me and move on.
Day 67: June 21; 25.5 miles
With the trauma of yesterday worn off, it was a new day. I even had a dream that all my animals were happy and healthy. I felt good and ready to take on the day… until, that is, I got a garmin message that neither of my cats had eaten a morsel of food for two days. I went into instant panic mode, thinking the worst, as usual. I started to plan how I’d get back home if things took a turn for the worst and how I’d get back to trail.
With tears and constant thought, I was in autopilot mode. There were three very steep climbs that I know were bad, and were bad in the moment, but the thought of my cats suffering distracted me from it all. I was so happy to hear that they were fine – no infections, no kidney failure, just two cats being cats. Who knows why they do the things they do. But let’s just say I have saints for parents who are handling all of my animal messes.
A thought I did have during those climbs was that of Sisyphus, a figure in Greek mythology who was condemned to roll a boulder up an extremely steep hill for all eternity. Once he neared the top of the climb, the boulder would roll back down, forcing him to start all over. Going up steep climbs to come back down even steeper descents only to climb back up, I thought I was suffering his same fate. It felt like eternity and that maybe I had been condemned, but at least every time I looked at the map it was forward progression towards Canada.
After all the steep climbing, it was 10 miles of gradual climbing to Dorothy Lake, our original stop. The climb was actually wonderful compared to the last 2 days of nonsense steepness. Although, I did have another tumble and bashed my knee, just more scars to commemorate the trip. There was rumor that there was one spot just 2 miles ahead with great reception. Wanting to hear that the cats were indeed okay from my parents as well as wanting to wish my dad a happy Father’s Day through phone pushed me those extra few miles.
We are 0.3 miles from the 1000 mile maker, so I’m just including it now. I think after doing 100 miles in 4.5 days it’s earned. I am so grateful to have gotten this far. 1000 miles is a huge accomplishment for me. These past 100 miles really made me question what I was doing out here. With the steepness, long days, river crossings, constantly wet feet, and mosquitoes, it’s been the roughest 100 miles yet. But with the bad comes the good and I know more good things are coming.
Emilie Bikes and Hikes 