Day 6: A Sad Goodbye

July 22nd 2018; Bubbs Creek – Woods Creek Junction: 13 miles

Well, it’s sunny out! But it wasn’t always that way. I’ll get into that later. This morning at breakfast, Sam decided she was going to exit via Kearsarge Pass. She didn’t want to risk getting too far without an escape strategy. A tough decision no doubt, but being stranded in the wilderness doesn’t sound like a fun time either. We only had one mile to the junction. No one expected such a short distance to be so harrowing. It was straight up a steep ascent and took us longer than expected to reach the junction. But we made it.

We said a sad goodbye to Sam, but I doubt it’ll be the last we see of her. She’s planning on either re-entering through Kearsarge Pass tomorrow or meeting us at a different entry point further up the road. I couldn’t imagine having to drop out, so I hope she rejoins ya soon. So it’s just me and Mary Beth, for now. Off we went to conquer Glenn Pass. At only 12K’, I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I mean we went up Forester Pass, what’s the big deal?!

Well I was wrong. The uphill from earlier never went away. In fact, it got worse. Up and up and up. Although magnificent, I wasn’t too big of a fan. When I thought we were nearly done climbing, I asked a guy coming down if we were close. “Eh you’re about half way there.” “WHAT?!” I exclaimed in shock. Seeing my reaction, he quickly retorted “okay no maybe you’re 3/4 of the way there. Yeah definitely you’re almost there”. Bologna.

Soon after someone pointed me out the top of the pass. I could see people up there. and a bunch of switchbacks leading up to it. Yep. We were only half way there. So I turned on some tunes and slowly but surely made my way to the top. Marybeth was a little ahead of me and so I went my own pace. Maybe I was tired from the days before, but I thought Glen was way tougher than Forester. It was grueling. I was so focused on getting it over with I didn’t even take any pictures until we got to the top!

We made it up at 11am. We still had 7 miles to go. After taking some pictures, we talked with some folks up top. Including Eric from Boston, who prior to the trip I had some interaction with on social media. He was the one who gave the great news that the mudslide blocking access to Horseshoe Meadows was cleared. Because of the mileage, we went on our way down.

As horrible as our way was going up, SOBO has it worse. Way worse. More steep and full of rocks, it took us a great deal of time to make it down safely. Eventually we made it down to the beautiful Rae Lakes at around 1pm. It was gorgeous. Marybeth was brave enough to take a dip. I was content just soaking my legs. My knee was acting up so the cold water felt relieving. We didn’t stay long, cause guess who else joined the party?! Storm clouds and thunder too! So off we went to outrun the storm as best we could.

We had our rain gear out and ready to go. We ran into a ranger who said the monsoon moisture was supposed to end “early in the week… and tomorrow is Monday and early in the week, so hopefully this is the end of it?!” Wishful thinking. Right after talking with her we had to whip out the rain gear as it started to pour. After a few minutes, the rain started to hurt. Probably because it wasn’t rain at all, but it’s more spiteful cousin hail. The lightning got worse and we were pretty darn exposed. The first tree patch we came across we ducked for cover. In the midst of the confusion, I stepped on my sunglasses, greatly deforming them. After a few minutes things tamed down and we departed only to duck for cover again in 1/4 of a mile. The hail was a lot bigger that time around. Again it stopped and we only had to contend with thunder and rain. Alright… 4.1 miles to go.

Those were the longest miles yet. They took forever with periods of on and off rain. But we were not without a view. There were magnificent views of sweeping mountains ahead. They were huge and I was in complete awe of them. I loved looking at them as we got closer and closer with every step. They looked so far away at first I thought for sure we wouldn’t get to them until tomorrow. But when we finally rolled into camp I realized we were right at their base. I guess walking isn’t so slow after all!

It was 5:30pm by the time we got to Woods Creek – much later than normal for us. We both were starving. I was down right hangry. But with lightning in sight and rain about to come any second, priority number one was setting up tents. Which was no fun. To make things worse, a woman was just staring at us fumbling around. In my hanger rage induced state, I stopped what I was doing and stared right back. I didn’t care that my tent was going to get soaked, I had a point to make. Our stared own lasted a good 30 seconds before she got uncomfortable and broke eye contact to retreat back into her already set up tent. Once again, the infamous death glare of Emilie Keane strikes again! But I digress.

After the crisis was averted, we filled our bellies and did some after dinner stretching. Marybeth left early and while I was finishing up, I heard yelling and whistling. It sounded like someone was calling a dog. I instantly turned my head and saw the cutest fluffiest butt (2nd only to Addie’s, of course) running away. “Oh my God, Sheena, it’s a bear!” (I’m not sure why I yelled out Sheena’s name – it must be muscle memory from getting her attention on the bike all the time). The guy chased the bear right out of the campsite. First beat encounter! The drama caused the woman who I had the staredown with to come over and tell us the ranger told her there was a very assertive bear patrolling the campsite. Not aggressive, the bear was just a curious little guy. She turned out to be a really nice lady from France doing the Rae Lakes Loop with some friends.

So with nearly a week on the trail, how’s my body holding up?! Great! That is until today. Starting with my feet – they need a good rubbing. Too bad they’re so disgusting no one would be crazy enough to go near them. Skin is still sloughing off and I discovered a new blister on my big toe. Probably because I got annoyed with river crossings and just walked through sigh my non-waterproof boots. Plus they were already wet from the rain! My right hip started to hurt in the morning going up the pass. But that went away on the downhill, only to be replaced with the before mentioned knee pain. Everything better get its act together soon!

All in all, today felt like the longest day yet and was my least favorite day. We all have bad days, right?!

*While looking back on this day in present time, it was one of my favorites in retrospect. It’s one I remember most vividly and fondly*

Day 5: The Forester Pass Half Marathon

July 21st, 2018; Tyndall Creek – Bubb’s Creek Junction: 13.3 miles

Any guesses as to where I currently am?? 3…2…1… if you guessed camped out inside the tent waiting out another monsoon, consider yourself correct! Ugh. This is getting annoying. At least the thunder isn’t nearly as bad as yesterday!

Today started early. I was anxious to cross the river creek and meet with the pack mule. So I packed up my wet gear and set out a little before the girls. I knew the first 5.2 miles were all uphill, so I wanted to get a head start. Within the first mile, I crossed the stream. Though narrow, it was extremely deep. I crossed in water shoes and used my poles to steady myself. Nothing like thigh high freezing cold mountain water to wake you up at 6:30am!

And what a beautiful morning it was. The meadow was stunning and got my mind off the gentle grade climb. I passed a group tour led by a young guy who was telling the group that this time last year the whole meadow was covered in snow. Thankful that isn’t the case now. One of the women in the group called me the girl who looks like Heidi (I’m assuming because of my braided pigtails), I’m glad that name didn’t stick! I slowly but surely made it past alpine lakes, waterfalls, and countless marmots. I lost count after 5 – I wasn’t really into keeping count of potentially cannibalistic rodents.

Then, from around the corner, I spied it. Forester Pass. What everyone describes to be the second hardest climb, the first being Whitney. And I already climbed Whitney, so Forester should be a piece of cake! Except it looked way intense. I recognized it from pictures. They made it look gnarly (I’m picking up local vernacular) and treacherous, but in person it looked way worse. It looked like I was about to embark on a journey to throw the one ring to rule them all into the fires of Mordor. How the heck was I supposed to get up that thing?! I couldn’t imagine how anyone could make a trail up such a steep mountain. Thank goodness a couple was camped right before the switchbacks so I could ask them. They pointed me in the right direction. The also told me how they got stuck in yesterday’s thunderstorm going over the pass. They were terrified but made it thankfully.

And so I was on my way up. I passed by a marker indicating the death of a young man who was working on building the trail. I stopped for a minute just thinking of the magnitude of what that marker represented.

Switchback after switchback fatigued me, but I had music playing to keep me going. A few of the sections were narrow with sheer drop offs that were dizzying and quite unsettling. Caution was taken with every step. Then suddenly, by surprise, I found myself at the top! It was quite crowded with other celebratory hikers but I was too distracted to really notice them. The views. I was in shock. Facing north, I can’t even describe the beauty of what I was looking at. Nor do I want to – it’s something that has to be experienced in person. I was completely awe struck.

Soon Mary Beth and Sam joined me, along with the guided tour. “Okay guys, we got 3 minutes up here then we gotta go. We have to get to below tree line as soon as possible!” we overheard the guide barking. We looked up and saw why – dark doomy clouds were crashing the Forester party. Since it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, we decided to follow suit. We snapped a few pictures and off we went.

Hikers typically hike the JMT from North to South. So naturally, I was going against the current. The views going North down from Forester Pass makes going the “wrong” direction worth it. I was in Heaven. Cause surely, this is what my Heaven looks like. The 3 miles down into the tree line were phenomenal. I feel bad for SOBO hikers who not only have to go up the pass (they had it way worse than us) but because they don’t have that view in their face the whole time to distract them.

Still super paranoid about missing the pack mule, I jumped again of Mary Beth and Sam. I basically ran to where I believed the meeting spot was. I arrived before I knew it at 2pm. I was told “anytime in the late afternoon”, so I knew it could be a while. So I just sat and was left dwindling my thumbs, cause I had already chewed down my nails in a nervous frenzy. The dark clouds followed me, making me nervous that I’d be waiting in the rain. Soon I heard thunder… but I also heard the clomping of hooves. I looked up and saw a beautiful sight. I saw a cowboy with a fully loaded mule! A mule fully loaded with our resupply!! What a relief that it had all worked out! If anyone is embarking on the JMT and wants a reliable pack service, look into Cedar Grove Pack Station. They’re easy to communicate with, reliable, and even bring in fresh fruits and vegetables for you! When I told him (he looked EXACTLY like Mitchell from Modern Family) I wasn’t sure if he’d make the delivery in bad weather, he retorted, “no ma’am, we’re like the USPS. We delivery rain, snow, or shine. ”

Because where we met didn’t have water or a bear box, we back tracked 1/4 mile to a campground that did. Along the way we ran into the girls and we all went back together. Just in time too. As he was emptying the panniers, it started to rain. We gathered up our goodies and quickly set up camp. Today’s storm wasn’t nearly as bad, I evaded any tent flooding.

I have entirely too much food. I haven’t been eating nearly as much as I thought I would (I eat way more in my real life than I do in Trail life!). So I’m leaving a lot of food in the bear box, free to a good home! I’m sure a hungry hiker will find it useful.

Sam’s knee isn’t getting any better. We considered making tomorrow a zero day, but logistically that would make the next 6 days pretty tough mileage wise to make sure we’re good with food and resupply. We’re going to carry on and if her knee isn’t better in the morning, she’s going to exit via Kearsarge Pass. Really hope it doesn’t come to that.

Considering I did 13.3 miles and made it to 13.5K’ and felt fine, I think I have my trail legs and I’m finally acclimated! Now if just these storms would give it a rest!!

Day 4: Monsoon Season in the Sierras

July 20th, 2018; Crabtree Meadows – Tyndall Creek: 8.3 miles

Monsoon moisture is no joke. Lightning just struck pretty much right outside my tent. So glad I have this nylon fabric to protect me! The thunder is pretty magnificent, but it’s hitting a little too close to home. If this journal post comes to a screeching end, at least you’ll know why!

So as you already surmised, I’m tucked away safe and sound – emphasis on sound, this thunder is deafening – in my tent. I’m actually kind of terrified, but all this writing is a good distraction! I honestly should be grateful for this experience, right? Not many people get to experience a monsoon in the Sierras!

So anyways, how did I find myself in this less than ideal situation? Well, we walked right into it! Unbeknownst to us, of course. We can’t get weather reports out here in the wilderness!

Fresh off the high of summiting Whitney, I was bright eyes and bushy tailed going into today’s journey. Skies were blue, sun was shining, and the temperature was perfect for a hike on the John Muir Trail. I felt good, hills didn’t look so big, and I felt strong. Since being on Whitney, my red blood cell count must’ve skyrocketed!

Sam’s knee is still bothering her, especially on the downhill. Mary Beth and I both donated to her one of our trekking poles to help lessen the load on her knee. So with her deficit on the downhills and mine on the uphills, together we make up one whole Mary Beth!

As noontime approached, I felt myself getting fatigued. The skies weren’t feeling any better, as they soon turned dark. After what seemed like an eternity of uphill, we found ourselves in an open meadow and what I consider to be the most beautiful art of this trip yet! The mountains were indescribable and pictures can’t hardly do them justice.

But we had to keep moving, as the clouds of doom were enclosing around us. Luckily we made it to below tree line when it started to drizzle and thunder. While we were going down, someone coming up warned us that the upcoming creek crossing was difficult to cross due to depth and strong current, likely getting worse because of the storm. With this information, we decided to stop right before Wright Creek and set up camp. And thank God we did. Within minutes of being in our tents, it started to pour. For 3 hours. Sam’s tent flooded and she was literally floating on her air mattress, requiring a quick and swift move. My tent flooded to a lesser extent, but I was prepared with my coffee cup and sunshirt. Every time the rain seems to end, it starts back up again. Frustrating doesn’t even begin to describe it. And that creek? They may as well rename it a river. Cause that thing is wild. Can’t wait to cross it in the morning!

We have a long and critical day tomorrow. Not only are we going over Forrester Pass, but we are meeting the resupply folks who are bringing in our food via pack mules!

Well, the thunder and lightening had ceased (for now), but the rain is still pouring. Can’t wait to start off the day tomorrow with soaking wet gear!

Day 3: Oh Whitney, If it’s Meant to be, It’ll be

July 19th 2018; Mt Whitney: 15 miles

In addition to my other two mantras: everything is temporary and suck it up buttercup, I added two more to my repertoire. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be and anything worth doing in life doesn’t come easy. So basically, I was giving myself conflicting motivation. If you don’t make it, eh it wasn’t meant to be. But you better try your darn hardest cause it’s not supposed to be easy!! So did we make it?! Well hold your horses and let me tell you! We all agreed to wake up early and start the journey at 4:30am. There was a prediction of bad weather from the ranger who checked our permits at Crabtree Meadows and we wanted to make sure we weren’t caught up top in the midst of a storm. Of course, when I woke up this morning and checked my watch, I was horrified to see that my alarm didn’t go off and it was 4:12am! I don’t think I have ever jumped into action so quickly from a dead sleep. I got dressed and had breakfast and fashioned my tent so should a storm happen, my stuff didn’t get wet when my tent surely would flood. Ready just in time, we set out to meet Whitney. Being so early, the sun was far from rising. We had to use headlamps to guide ourselves through the dark for the first hour, which flew by. Soon we made it to the infamous Guitar Lake. I’ll give ya one guess as to why it’s named that. A lot of people just finishing their SOBO trip camp here for a shorter hike up Whitney and a more convenient exit point out of Whitney Portal. The lake was stunning and we got to see the sunrise over the background mountains – bathing them in a pink glow. Stunning. After Guitar Lake, we hit some pretty major switchbacks to the Whitney Trail Junction. I knew that if I made it up the roughly 1.5K’ climb, I would make it to Whitney! With my mantras on repeat and taking it slow and steady, I found myself feeling great! The only time I had any doubt was when a rock slide occurred on the mountain directly in front of us. It was an identical mountain to the one we were climbing. What if that happened to us?! But we were safe from that natural disaster, at least. As Guitar Lake got smaller and smaller, I realized that I had made it to the junction! I couldn’t believe I made it before I knew it. At the junction, a lot of people who are entering or exiting through Whitney Portal tend to leave their packs so they don’t have to lug them up to the summit. Opportunistic marmots have learned this and savagely tear through packs to get to food. The fat little things have no fear of humans or other vicious marmots. In fact, one of the SOBO hikers just finishing up said he heard a story where a hiker saw two marmots fighting over food. One of them tore out the other’s throat and started going cannibalistic on his fellow species. Rather graphic, I know, I found this story hard to believe. Likely just a hiker wives tale. From the junction, it was “only” 1.9 miles to the summit with a 1K’ elevation gain. Those last miles weren’t easy, but wow were they special. They were breathtaking. But as I learned, with beauty comes danger. There were plenty of sheer drop offs with boulder scrambling to boot. With one misstep you could land thousands of feet down. So I treaded carefully.

I was becoming progressively short of breath, but was motivated by people passing me telling me, “you’re almost there!” Soon I rounded a corner and I could see it – the famed shelter at the top of Mt. Whitney!! I felt elated. The only the separating me from the summit was about 500′ of walking. Though it took a lot of effort, I did it. I got to the summit. And then the tears started flowing. I became emotional because I didn’t think I would ever make it. Had you asked me just 48 hours ago if I would be able to, I’d laugh and say heck no in between vomits. The girls were waiting for me at the top. I made a few tear filled calls (not sad tears – exhausted, joyfilled I MADE IT tears) and snapped a few pictures. Due to impending clouds, we didn’t stay up top long. But I did get to soak in a little of the beauty of being literally on top of the world, with Mt. Whitney being the tallest peak in the contiguous United States.
We flew down the mountain (downhill is so much more forgiving) and considered jumping into Guitar Lake. But again, approaching clouds of doom stopped that idea. Unfortunately, in our haste coming down from the mountain, Sam hurt her knee. I’m gonna try to use my career to see if I can help at all. Fingers crossed it helps! We got back into camp at 1:30pm. We joked that all our food in our canisters are going to be gone, stolen by the folks from yesterday. But all was intact. We were beat. Again, rain and thunder threatened with little precipitation. The ranger told us that for the next 48 hours we are in monsoon conditions. Great! We’re planning an early bedtime again. I know I’ll sleep well, I accomplished that which I didn’t think possible. I have someone upstairs looking out for me for sure.

Day 2: Okay, Maybe I Can…

July 18th 2018; Lower Rock Creek – Crabtree Meadow: 7.6 miles

Today was a piece of cake. A bitter, unsweetened piece of cake made with blood, sweat, and tears – but a piece of cake nonetheless. And I didn’t hate eating it, mainly because it didn’t make me puke.

We all got good sleep last night. Between the peaceful quiet, darkness, and being wiped from the day’s hike, we slept hard and we slept in. As the sun made its appearance, we set out our still soaking clothes to dry. Not being nearly dry enough to mix with my unassaulted clothes, I makeshifted a clothesline on the outside of my pack – worked perfectly!

We set out and soon came across the first uphill battle. I took it slow and steady, mindful of my breathing and heart rate, I took intermediate breaks to avoid a repeat of yesterday. We even hit our first river crossing!

Shortly after, we hit Guyot Pass, our highest elevation of the day at 10.9K’. Being below the dreaded 11K’, I did not feel any of the symptoms of altitude sickness. In fact, I had an appetite and was able to eat lunch! Thank God I didn’t puke that up – tuna wouldn’t taste so good coming back up.

After Guyot Pass, we marched quickly over Guyot Flats – aptly named because they were, well, flat. And luxurious. We headed down a boulder field and had our first glimpse of the backside of Mt. Whitney (or what we thought was Whitney) since Monday. Soon clouds gathered, so we hastened the pace the camp should we be caught in another storm. We got to camp early – 1:45pm and set up camp.

A lot of people are here, doing what we’re doing. One crew made it up to Whitney today, but found themselves low on food. They saw us organizing our canisters and asked if we had any extra food. Lucky for them, we did and they were grateful for the donation. We came to learn that they completed the PCT 2 years ago and are now doing the High Sierra Trail. You would think with all that experience, they would know how much food to pack! However, I’ve come to learn that PCTers rely a lot on JMTers to pack too much food and use their leftovers as their resupply. So basically, PCTers are the vultures of the hiking world. HA – just kidding of course.

^^The infamous highly private pit toilet of Crabtree Meadows

We seem to have evaded the storm with only a few claps of thunder and a little sprinkling. We are going to bed early to get up early to hike Mt. Whitney. It’s another 4K’ higher than we are now, and although I felt much better today, I am not confident I’ll be able to make it up to 14.6K’! But we shall see, I’m going to attempt it no matter what. We have a game plan in place should I need to turn back. Hopefully it doesn’t need to be implemented, but it’s always best to be prepared!

Right now my body feels good – no aches and pains to complain about. However, the state of my feet is of minor concern. They look diseased with the skin just sloughing off (hopefully you’re not eating!). However, I have come to learn that is normal. My two index toenails are also about to fall off. Don’t need them anyway, right?!

Day 1: I Don’t Think I Can…

July 17th 2018; Horseshoe Meadows – Lower Rock Creek; 14 miles

***You may notice this is being posted before I’m supposed to be done the trail. Don’t worry I’m still set on completing the JMT – I’m having an off day in Mammoth trying to figure out plans with the raging Ferguson fire ravaging Yosemite!***

After Keith dropped us off at Horseshoe Meadows, we just chilled – literally. Being at 10k’ elevation, we felt a considerable difference in temperature between here and Lone Pine – which is good. Cause Lone Pine was 102 degrees when we left. Because it is so much cooler, I was instantly worried that I’d be freezing at night. But a gentleman I met in LP, Sean from Nashville who just finished the JMT the day before, assured me that would not be the case. “If anything, you’ll be warm!” Reassuring, however, I was still skeptical.

We were enjoying the peace and quiet until a group of barely supervised youths showed up with an arsenal of every possibly weapon. I’m not kidding. From throwing stars, to paintball guns, to machetes, to slingshots, to airsoft rifles, they had it all besides an AR-15. They even assaulted some poor mountain squirrel! They were rowdy and obnoxious. Needless to say, I wasn’t a fan. And neither were a lot of the other campers. Meg, an 80 year old woman who has hiked in the Sierras every summer since she was 8, reported them to highway patrol. Unfortunately there was nothing for them to do about it! Oh well. We went to bed early in anticipation for the first day of the JMT!!

Shocker – we didn’t sleep well. The boys were yelling at each other until midnight until another hiker told them to shut up. I would’ve applauded, but I was half unconscious at that point. We were also visited by a pack of howling wiley coyotes and what I can only guess to be a bear. But fret not – they only made a LOT of noise. They left us alone. The stars were magnificent. It was such a clear night and I was able to see thousands of stars and the Milky Way during my 3 trips to the bathroom.

We woke up at 5:30am and set out for the trail at exactly 7:31am. We couldn’t believe it, we were really doing it! No turning back now. Months of planning and stressing every little detail is finally coming to fruition!!

The first 3 miles were easy. Here I was in my head thinking “Man, I slept okay last night, no issues with altitude sickness – I’ll be fine!” Who Nelly, did I regret jinxing myself. We hit Cottonwood Pass early on. I felt fine the first half of it, but soon I was trailing behind the girls. My heart was pounding and I was gasping for air. Okay, maybe the altitude is something I’ll have to contend with. With some short breaks, I was able to march on to the top of the pass. What a beautiful view! I was only able to notice it after I caught my breath.

We were well over 11k’ and I was feeling it. My heart rate was well over 140 BPM and with a normal resting HR in the 50s with trouble getting it above 100 during exercise, I was not used to feeling my heart beat so violently. It felt like it was trying to break right out of my chest! We took a snack break and trudged (in my case) on. Any kind of uphill of any kind of grade left me breathless. As someone who normally loves uphills, this crushed my spirit. Every 2 minutes I had to stop. My heart rate never went below 120bpm. Soon lightheadedness kicked in. Followed by nausea. Very shortly followed by vomiting. I had NEVER felt so horrible in my life and the sun beating down didn’t help. Knowing I wasn’t even don’t half of the days hike – I sincerely thought I was going to die. But Mary Beth and Sam were so patient and encouraging. They stopped frequently for me and motivated me to press on. And so I did.

As someone who loves physical challenges and putting my body through vigorous tests, today was easily my number one most physically challenging experience and in top 10 emotionally challenging days to date. Along with feeling that the Grimm Reaper was following me (not hard for him – I was so slow) I also thought something worse – I wasn’t going to be able to complete the JMT. The thought crushed me. But not for long. With only 6 miles left, I remembered my 2 favorite phrases. “Everything is temporary” and “suck it up buttercup”. Drawing strength from the phrases, I was able to complete the hike. Doesn’t hurt that it was all downhill! If you remember from my last post, I was prescribed anti altitude sickness meds. Why not use them if my altitude sickness was so horrible?! Well you see, I couldn’t keep anything down. Water, food, pills, you name it, it was coming back up. I hope to never feel that way ever again!! As we approached camp, I thought I heard thunder. Just what we needed! Mary Beth checked her handy dandy Garmin In Reach for the weather, which gave a prediction of 10% chance of rain. As we hiked, the skies turned darker and the thunder louder. We were in the 10% zone. The skies opened we marched 1 mile in search of shelter. We tried to wait it out, but it only got worse. We threw up our tents in a frazzled rush. My tent of course got flooded. I maguivered a way of unflooding it by bailing the water out with my coffee cup (never drinking instant coffee again – it’s all I could taste during the vom fest) and my sun shirt. It’s too white anyway. It needed to get a little dirty. And wouldn’t you know – as soon as it was perfectly dry (I was so proud) the sun came out! What a great first day. With the rain gone, we could cook dinner. Being back down at 9k’, my appetite came back full force after puking out its entire contents and not eating all day. Day one at 14 miles. I always knew this day would be difficult, I just could never imagine how difficult it would be. Give me Mt. Washington. Give me the hills of Washington State on bike. Give me the hot never ending hills of Kentucky on bike. But dear God – don’t ever give me today back again. Despite feeling horrible that whole time, I’m proud. I have never hiked 14 miles in one day (didn’t tell the girls – “oooo that’s why she sucks!”) let alone 14 miles in 10K’ of elevation. I made it when I was positive I wouldn’t. It’s a good day, and unlike the past 5 days I sure wasn’t bored! I’m definitely not acclimated yet, so I’m kind of terrified that today may be repeated soon enough. But tomorrow is half the distance and I can always turn around during Mt. Whitney!

A Hero’s Journey is Riddled with Obstacles

Alright well I’m no hero, but boy oh boy has the JMT thrown some obstacles my way – and we’re not even on the trail yet! From a wildfire evacuating Whitney Portal, to a mudslide taking out the road into Horseshoe Meadows, to the discovery of a huge tear in my sleeping bag, to a trip to urgent care, the past week has not been easy or relaxing. But the wildfire was quenched, the slide was cleared, the sleeping bag was patched, and the health scare was handled (and I scored some altitude sickness meds!). More than one time did I think I’d have to cancel the trip – and believe me when I tell you that it caused quite a panic that my lucky parents got to deal with. But alas, here I am in Lone Pine, sitting outside the hostel staring at the cloud shrouded Mt. Whitney as I type my last blog post until I get off the trail – whenever that may be. All disasters have so far been averted, and we all made it!

Here’s how I got here: I left Philly and flew into Reno Thursday. Because I had an entire afternoon devoid of anything to do, I rented a car and spent some time at Donner Pass and Lake Tahoe, both of which were less than an hour drive from Reno. If you know anything about the Donner Party, then you might know why I found it a must see. Though you wouldn’t know at the peak, the Donner Party resorted to cannibalism when stranded in the Sierras for months at a time during the height of winter. The plaques at the top just touch upon the “hardships” the pioneers faced and how so few of them survived. It makes for a less gruesome story I suppose. But I paid my homage and ironically thought how such a tragedy could happen in a place of such striking beauty. I also dwelled upon their crisis and hope a similar one doesn’t befall me on the trail!

Because I still had plenty of afternoon left, I decided to ride to Lake Tahoe. I have heard nothing but great things about it and wanted to see it for myself. And I’m sure glad I did – it was worth the hype. It strongly resembled one of my favorite lakes that I’ve been to, Colter Bay in the Grand Tetons. The water was clear and blue as anything with snow capped mountains in the background. It was beautiful and a great way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

After that I made it back to Reno. Let’s just say I didn’t fall in love with Reno and I have really no desire to go back. I visited the REI to pick up some fuel that I couldn’t bring on the plane and spent the rest of the night in the motel. I went to bed early and slept in. In the afternoon I returned the car and waited for the bus to take me to Lone Pine. And waited. And waited. Luckily I wasn’t alone. There were a few other hikers also waiting around (including a father son duo – the kid couldn’t have been more than 10 – thru hiking the entire trail in 17 days!), so I knew I didn’t miss it. It eventually came an hour late. When telling the driver I was going to Lone Pine, the very last stop, he straight faced said, “oh I’m running so late. I hope you make it”. Uh what? I thought he was kidding so I took it with a grain of salt.

The bus ride was gorgeous. We were surrounded by the stunning Sierras and every turn brought unbelievable views. I do admit I dozed off a few times during the ride, but what else is there to do during a 5.5 hour bus ride?! We pulled into Bishop when I realized that the bus driver was completely serious about not being confident about me getting to Lone Pine. I had a connector in Bishop and since we were so late, it wouldn’t be unlikely that the other bus would’ve just departed without me, leaving me stranded! But lo and behold, the bus was there, waiting for me. I felt sorry that I made everyone wait, but at the same time I felt so relieved! I hopped on and off we went to Lone Pine.

On the bus were a few other hikers also going to Lone Pine. Two guys were doing a section of the JMT (Whitney Portal – Mammoth Lakes). I chose to carry my pack in a bag for convenience of flying (not so convenient for carrying). They saw me hauling around the bag and instantly nicknamed me “Body Bag”. Thank God I’ll never see them again and that name won’t stick as my trail name. Not entirely the most becoming name that could be bestowed upon me.

The town of Lone Pine is tiny. Super tiny. It took me 10 min to walk from one end to the other. But there are plenty of places to eat! I stopped by a Mexican place upon arrival and sat facing the Sierras. My brain wasn’t functioning very well after such a long bus ride when I found myself asking just what mountain I was looking at. It looked huge and scary and menacing. Then it struck me – I was staring right at Mt. Whitney! And with that I felt my stomach drop – I’ll be climbing up that fierce looking mountain in less than a week. I almost threw up the delicious tacos I had just scarfed down.

I saw a beautiful sunset and went back to the hostel for some shut eye. The next morning I met up with Sam, a girl who joined us for the hike! She had a few other obstacles thrown her way. A day before she was supposed to fly out to meet a friend who would then drive her to Lone Pine, the friend bailed. Essentially, Sam had a few hours to change flights and figure out a totally new game plan. And apparently the same thing happened to Mary Beth! Unbelievable. I am beyond thankful that all my forms of transportation worked out for me. Pretty curious how many other hurdles are thrown our way before we leave for the trail! I find solace in the fact that the pacific bike route started so horribly too, but turned out to be one of my favorite trips to date. Hopefully I find the same pattern in the JMT!

like I said before, Lone Pine is tiny. There isn’t much to do. And it’s enough to drive a person crazy. Saturday I spent the day reading a novel in McDonalds. 6 hours later, I was left disappointed in the book and the McDonald’s I think was pretty annoyed that I set up camp there for the afternoon. But what else is there to do?! But I gotta say, the sunsets here are pretty hard to beat.

Sunday I walked the 4 mile round trip trek to the Interagency Visitor Center to pick up the permits. They were there waiting for me! Having them in my possession definitely made everything real. We now have everything we need to get this party started! I even booked a guy to drive us to the trailhead. A much more reliable way of doing it than relying on unreliable hitchhiking. Mom and Dad, you can sleep easy at least for tonight.

We ate our last good meal – a huge breakfast and are gonna get subs for dinner tonight. We shipped back all our extra gear and will head up to the trailhead campground this afternoon!

Can’t believe all the planning has led to this – I am excited and also a little terrified to see what comes our way, but at least we’re not alone on this journey!

JMT Prep: The White Mountains

Let me just start off by saying I’m pretty happy the John Muir Trail is in the Sierras and not the White Mountains. Not that New Hampshire isn’t beautiful and mesmerizing – because it most definitely is that and more, but whoa is it tough. Which I’m very grateful for because it made for a great shakedown for the JMT!

As the sign above clearly states, the White Mountains (particularly its most famous peak, Mt. Washington) is significantly dangerous and should be treated with respect and safety should be prioritized. Over 180 rescues occur yearly, mostly due to hypothermia (even in the summer!) and overexposure. I was aware of this going into this hike and made it all the more exciting to a semi- adrenaline junkie like myself.

I am lucky enough to have a wonderful father who was willing to plan the whole outing and even hike it with me! So fresh off the bike tour, I quickly packed my backpack and we were on the road for the 8 hour journey to NH.

We originally were going to have a first day starting at Pinkham Notch and hike 7 miles to Valley Way tentsite. However, after weather reports indicated that there were going to be afternoon thunderstorms we reconsidered. Because that trail is exposed and above tree line for the last portion of the hike, we decided we didn’t want to worry about getting struck by lightning just yet. We got dropped off at the Valley Way trailhead via shuttle late morning for a 3.8 mile hike up to the tentsite.

The hike was mostly in trees, sheltered from the late morning/early afternoon sun. Yes, sun! Barely a cloud in the sky, making us pretty hopeful we might outrun the storm and be able to climb Mt. Madison before the heavens opened. The trek to the tentsite was pretty challenging. Nearly 3000′ in 3.4 miles means a pretty significant and relentless climb steeply up rocks and boulders. Thank goodness I caved in and bought trekking poles – a piece of equipment I used to believe was unnecessary and if I’m being honest, I saw as quite pretentious. But now I see people using them no longer as snobby, but smart! They are a huge help when hoisting yourself up rocks and assist tremendously with maintaining balance, especially when you have a 40lb pack trying to knock you down with every step.

But alas, we carried on (literally) and eventually made it to the site with empty bellies and a quickly clouding over sky. We ate lunch and set up the tents. As we were debating whether or not to attempt Madison, the clouds made the decision for us. Rain started and we sought shelter in the tents. The rain was on and off (mostly on) for hours on end. At times it was aggressive and I thought a river might form and sweep us down the mountain. We awoke the next morning with wet tents and soggy gear.

Nothing is worse than breaking down a saturated campsite, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do! All the wet gear likely added a couple of pounds to our already heavy packs, but we threw it on our backs anyway and headed up for Madison.

The fog we encountered affected visibility quite a lot, but still below the tree line, we had no idea what was awaiting us. As we ascended above the tree line we encountered some pretty significant gusts of wind. I didn’t think much of it – I’d rather hike in it than bike in it was as much thought as I gave it. I never questioned the safety of it until, that is, we got to Madison Hut to refill on water. All the guests were in a full out panic trying to reschedule their whole hike based on weather reports and the wind they deemed was too strong and unsafe to hike in. I then began to question everything. The staff in the hut were recommending people seek alternative routes to Mt Washington, including going down Valley Way and hopping the shuttle on over to the peak. No way! I was already content with skipping Mt. Madison, but there was no way I was going to skip the star of the show! Dad and I decided all the hut folks were being sissies and we were determined to get to Mt. Washington. Is it any surprise to see where I get my stubbornness from??

We almost immediately reconsidered this decision as we exited the hut and were hit smack in the face with wind that seemed to have increased exponentially. But we persisted, despite warnings from hikers who turned back claiming it was too windy for them to continue. Psh. It’s just wind folks. For 5 miles we battled the said winds that at times full out pushed me over causing me to crash into a boulder. There was one patch where the only way I could cross was by literally crawling. I couldn’t even stand up the wind was so aggressive! With a 40 lb pack, crawling was not the easiest, but it was the only way.

Despite the treachery we encountered, I loved every second of it. There was only one moment during the crawling bit that I got truly frustrated by it, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even though there wasn’t any sort of view due to the thick blanket of fog, I loved the eerieness and spookiness vibe it added to the hike. The treachery continued with full out rock scrambling (not the easiest thing in the world with a pack!) and a snow crossing!

We took lunch in a random spot, unable to make heads or tails of where we were because of the fog. As we ate, we saw patches of blue sky float above us for brief seconds. Eventually the time increased and we realized we were eating right in front of Mt. Washington! It was spectacular to finally see views of the mountains that we were missing out for miles and hours before. It made me even more excited to get to the top!

With a clear sky, we were only a few miles from the summit. It was an absolutely stunning hike. The wind was still blowing us around, but with views like that I didn’t mind too much. We even saw the famed Cog Railway!

After a pretty grueling 0.2 miles, we made it to the top!! The wind was pretty angry up there and it dropped a lot in temperature. After snapping a few pictures, we sought refuge in the lodge for a break. We layered up, snapped a few more pictures (so cold I forgot to take scenic shots), and we went on our way to Lake of Clouds Hut!

We arrived right before dinner and attempted to sleep in a room full of snoring strangers. The hut itself was interesting to say the least. I’m just thankful I brought earplugs! We did get to witness a sunset so beautiful it rivaled those of the west coast.

The morning weather report was beautiful – warm temps with low winds! Perfect compared to the day before where Mt Washington had recorded wind gusts of 94mph!!

The hike back to the car was gorgeous and awe inspiring. We could see the trail for miles ahead of use before entering back below the tree line.

The hike was a lot more difficult than either of us were anticipating due to the rocks and boulders we had to scramble across. Plus, it was mostly downhill. Like biking, I’d almost always rather go up than down. Taking time to carefully go downhill affected our ETA back home, but it was worth it! We stumbled back to the car early afternoon with weak and tired legs.

Despite the adversity we encountered between the rain, wind, rocks, fog, and huge elevation gains, I had a blast. I wouldn’t change a thing about the hike to make it easier. I loved the challenge and I got to test out all my gear before the JMT! Despite a leaky tent, I’m gonna count that it doesn’t rain out in the Sierras and I’m gonna keep the old girl in commission.

So, JMT, hit me with your best shot! I’m coming for ya 😉

Day 30: Ragged Point – San Luis Obispo; 60 miles

To me, today was a bit of a sad day. It’s our last day riding when I think both of us still have a lot of ride left in us. We finally got back into the swing of things and boom, trip is over because of time constraints. But with Big Sur behind us, we figure anything else isn’t going to live up to the hype or beauty of what we’ve already seen. That’s the word on the street, anyways. But not wanting to miss out on seeing SoCal, we’ll be taking the train down to San Diego this weekend!

We woke up without an alarm this morning and went to breakfast at the Inn. It was delicious, but big. So we waited until 10am to digest before getting back on the bikes. Latest start yet!

We left at the same time as the French boys with their contraption. We played cat and mouse with them for a few miles where we would pass them, they would pass us. The game got monotonous and came to a halt when they got a flat.

With a gentle tailwind, we rode past a beach of sunbathing sea lions and elephants. We just had to stop because it was overwhelming how many there were on the beach. Sheena exclaimed, “oh my God Emilie I think some of them are dead!” Likely scaring all the children in the surrounding area, we stuck around for a while to ensure that all of the creatures were alive and accounted for. We all can rest easy.

We rode on through some not so scenic scenery. We are definitely out of Big Sur territory. In fact, when off the coast, it feels and looks like we’ve been dropped right back into Wyoming. That is, until, we rode past a herd of Zebra by Hearst Castle. There were a ton of them just grazing along with the cows. If you squint real hard you can see them in the picture I took. They’re great camouflagers, likely hiding from those vicious California lions I’m sure are stalking about.

Because we were feeling good and knew San Luis Obispo (otherwise known as SLO) was our final stop, we decided to push on towards our goal despite the late time of day. But not before stopping for cookies! We were told the best cookies on the west coast were found in the cute coastal town of Cayucos. We made a stop at Brown Butter Cookie Company and had plenty of free samples before purchasing some delightful crumbly cookies that did not last long.

We got into SLO around 6pm and waited around to see if any of our warm shower requests would be answered. They were not – well besides a woman who lives in the community library….. – so we decided to celebrate the end of our riding journey with a hotel!

Tomorrow we have to run around town and ship back our bags and (very sadly) our bikes. Another tour done!

Day 29: June 7th; Big Sur – Ragged Point 53 miles

Hands down today was both of our favorite days. Big Sur is without doubt the most beautiful place I have ever ridden my bike. Mountains meet beach, what can be better than that?!

We of course encountered hills, but this time I was so excited to see what view was atop the hill or around the corner that I was happy to climb. There were so many “wow” moments that were stunning and mesmerizing. Pictures surely don’t do them justice, but I tried to capture the beauty as best I could!

Like yesterday, we took plenty of stops to take pictures and just enjoy being present in the moment.

Now for the real challenge of the day: Two years ago there was a massive mudslide that took out a bridge and a section of route 1 (the very road we’re taking down the coast). Obviously, these closures will put a bit of a bump in our plans to bike down to San Luis Obispo – only 60 miles away. Fortunately, the bridge is open and we rode across it yesterday! Awesome! Unfortunately, however, the road is still closed just past Gorda, right where we find ourselves now. So what do we do?! Well we’re for sure not biking all the way back to Monterey (as beautiful as that ride is) and we’re not taking a detour up a dangerous pass without a shoulder. So that leaves us two options – pick up a shuttle in the morning with a couple we met today to bypass the slide, or we cross it. Being fools for adventure and cheap ones at that, we are opting to cross.

Now we are not making this decision lightly or without doing a ton of research. With knowledge that the highway was still closed since the beginning of the trip, we’ve been asking all our warm shower hosts and other cyclists ahead of us for any information possible on crossing the slide. First and foremost – is it safe? The answer we got is “yes, but it is illegal”. Okay, great, what are the chances of getting caught? None – once the construction boss leaves at 5:30pm, the road is yours. Literally no one cares if you cross it. We heard rumors that there was a sheriff patrolling the slide issuing fines, but those were proven false. It’s a scare tactic to dissuade cyclists from crossing. And that tactic almost worked on us. After speaking with a couple who crossed 2 nights ago safely as well as the owner of the restaurant right before the slide where we’re eating dinner waiting for the foreman to leave, we feel confident with our decision to cross the 1/2 mile of slide safely. Otherwise we wouldn’t do it! I’m sure it doesn’t come without danger – sliding into the pacific is a true risk and rock slides are an ever present concern in this area. But without rain the last 2 weeks and no wind to speak of today, we feel nothing but confidence going forward. We even talked to some of the construction crew at dinner, who pretended they didn’t know what we’re about to do, but cheered us on anyway.

So the plan – ride to Gorda, eat dinner at the restaurant before the slide, wait for Mr. Foreman to leave ( we have a perfect view of his car, cross by pushing the bikes, ride 15 miles where we’ll reward ourselves with an expensive room at Ragged Point Inn.

And there goes the foreman, so here goes us!

Well, we made it across the mudslide… and that was the easy part! The worst of slide itself was pretty short, down a pretty steep slope but wide enough where we didn’t feel like we were going to slip into the ocean. We crossed it with three young French guys riding some sort of tandem contraption. Honestly I don’t know how they did it, but it was funny to watch regardless. They started April 4th in Seattle and have spent a lot of time in each city since then. That in addition to having to push their bikes up every hill has accounted for the time it has taken to get to this point.

At no time during the crossing did we feel in danger. For the most part the surface was very well packed down and we didn’t hit too many rocky spots. In fact, we rode our bike along most of the slide! Pretty cool to be pushing my bike over a slide I remember hearing about in the news, never thinking it would have any impact whatsoever on my life!

Before we left, we spent some time talking with the restaurant owner about how the mudslide affected her business. Prior to the slide they were busy nonstop and doing great business. Since the slide, business has dropped nightmarishly, the only patrons they get are those who missed the 4028482 signs leading to the road closure and didn’t realize the road was closed, or those who didn’t think the signs applied to them and thought they were above the law (AKA – us). Which led me to wonder if it was just her business affected or all those along the Big Sur stretch. All the markets and restaurants along the route are RIDICULOUSLY expensive. For example, a regular no fuss drip coffee this morning was $5. My burger and fries was $20. A loaf of bread was $6. Are the prices so high because it’s a tourist area and there’s nowhere else to go grocery shopping so they gouge prices, or because the mudslide has so greatly affected their business that they have to increase prices to just get by? Questions I’ll never have answers to.

But anyways, the road continued to be closed 8 miles past the slide, meaning we had the whole road to ourselves, woo! We didn’t really care cause the way to Ragged Inn was nothing but hills and pain. The only redeeming quality was that it was during sunset, lighting the entire landscape in an entirely different fashion than we’ve been used to.

We arrived at Ragged Inn around 8, unsure if they would have a room in our price range. Sure enough, they did! And it was way cheaper than we were expecting! We booked it immediately and we were completely shocked by how grandiose the room was. I have stayed in motels where I paid the same exact price but had to barricade shut the door lest someone try to break in and steal Addie! This place is a 5 star resort – literally. It’s a great way to end such a long day.

Because we’re staying in such a nice place, we’re going to sleep in and see what happens tomorrow. As long as we’re in San Diego by Sunday, we can afford to continue to take our time in Big Sur! Well afford time, not sure how long we’d last out here with it rapidly depleting our funds.