Day 19

Day's start: Crabtree Junction
Day's end: Whitney Portal (Showers! Pillows! Real beds!)
Day's miles: 15.4 miles
Total trip miles: 218.5 miles

When the alarm on my watch went off this morning at 3:30, I opened my eyes and stared at the tent ceiling - last night in a wet tent! Last day of the trip! Bring it on! In the Crabree Junction campground we could see that we were the first set of headlamps to be moving around, but within about 45 minutes a few other sets flicked on around the meadow as other hikers readied themselves for the hike to the top of Whitney. After packing up our stuff, we took one excited look around camp to make sure we weren't leaving anything behind and then began our morning hike by headlamp a little before 5:00 (I understand that 1.5 hours to pack up all your belongings is kind of a long time, but let's see if you can do it any faster when your tent - and pretty much everything else - is soaked from last night's thunderstorm, it's pitch black, and your headlamp is starting to go because it's low on batteries).

Early morning hiking

A little more than an hour into our hike, we pass Timberline Lake just as the sun is coming up, and soon enough we come to Guitar Lake. I'm very glad we didn't stay at Guitar Lake last night as originally planned. There were no trees in sight and everything is covered in a fresh layer of snow. No way would I have wanted to be here during last night's thunderstorm. At Guitar Lake we fill up our water bottles and I take a few minutes break. I'm a little worried about the climb we will be doing today. So far we've only climbed a little less than 1,000 feet and I'm already starting to have flashbacks to how exhausted I was going up Muir Pass almost a week ago. I try to tell myself that feeling so tired is just a mental thing, but looking up into the clouds where the mountain tops disappear is making me have second thoughts about needing to finish this trip today. Thinking of how we still have to another 4,400 feet of vertical climbing over five miles of fresh snow to go is making me wish I could just take a nap somewhere warm all day and save this for tomorrow. Before I can even start throwing myself a pity party, I say to myself some encouraging words (You can do it! After you finish this day you get to take a shower! And sleep in a real bed! With as many pillows as you want! BEER!!). I pop Aaron's iPod in, will my legs to move faster, and try to take my couple minute catch-your-breath breaks only once per hour. If we're going to beat these storm clouds to the top of Mt. Whitney, we have no choice but to move fast!

Beautiful Timberline Lake

 Nearing Guitar Lake...

...and passing Guitar Lake.

As we climb towards Trail Crest, where the summit trail to Mt. Whitney veers off, I find myself staring mainly at the ground trying not to step on any ice and slide my way all the way back down to Guitar Lake. After a while I can feel hail starting to hit me. We both stop to take a look at what the weather is doing. Currently, the trail leads us straight into a cloud. I'm not kidding. I can see about 20 yards in front of me and then the trail, and the rest of the mountain, just disappears in this white, hazy blur. Doesn't hail usually happen before lightning? Perhaps walking straight into this cloud isn't the best thing we should do. Unfortunately, we don't have very many options available to us at this moment, so we put our heads down and hike as fast as possible through the cloud.

Climbing up towards Trail Crest

 Nasty weather... but it made for some neat photos!

My body is screaming for a break about two hours later when we spot the junction and the sign that marks Trail Crest. Finally. The weather only looks like it's getting worse, so we have a quick talk about if we want to still head to the top of Mt. Whitney or just head down the other side of the mountain to Whitney Portal. From Trail Crest, it is 1.9 miles one way to Muir Hut (the official ending point of the John Muir Trail). After weighing the obvious and immediate dangers of continuing on to the summit, we decide that we've hiked too far to possibly skip out on the last 1.9 miles of this trail just because of a (really scary) storm. So we drop our packs and take only our trekking poles, water, a few snacks, my camera, and the SPOT, and we head off to conquer the last 1,000 vertical feet of the John Muir Trail.

I did not take this picture (found it on the inter-webs), but I'm glad somebody took one... judging by the wording on the sign, it maybe was not the smartest move to continue to hike to the summit of Mt. Whitney...

View of Trail Crest from a few minutes up the trail

The trail leading up to Mt. Whitney starts off fairly tame as we're walking on boulders covered in fresh snow with a couple thousand foot drop to our left. After about 20 minutes later the storm clouds become darker, and where the mountain side dropped away on the right, where we should be able to see Lone Pine on the valley floor, all we see are dark, ugly clouds below and above us.

Looking up toward the summit of Mt. Whitney...

 ...and down to where Lone Pine should be...

After awhile we notice that we're some of the only people heading towards the summit, while most people are heading down. I stop and ask every person we come to if they've already been to the summit or if they're turning around because of the weather and most of them tell me that they have already been to the top. Those that have assure us that we have only about another 30-45 minutes to go before we reach the top and that we are so close we really shouldn't turn around now! Fueled by other people's optimism, we carry on towards the summit. After about 30 minutes, we find we are pretty much the only two people headed towards the top (or coming back down, for that matter), besides one group of day hikers. One guy in the group explains how he didn't come this far for nothing and that of course he want to try to make it to the top. Another looks visibly shaken and is trying to convince his friend to go on alone and that he will wait for him back at Trail Crest. Well... at least we won't be the only people on the summit of Mt. Whitney in a few minutes, so if the weather takes another turn for the worst we'll at least have some company.

After 5-10 minutes and a few more switch backs, we look up and see Muir Hut! I can't believe it! That's the end! Right when we start to run towards our finish line we run into the only other two people coming off the top of Mt. Whitney - the parents of the backpacking family, No Trace and Unbreakable! I'm so happy to see the end point and some friendly faces! I smile so big that I almost start to cry.

Have you ever seen two people look more happy? The backpacking family parents were able to take our picture - thanks!!

 Muir Hut - the official ending point of the John Muir Trail

See?... we really made it!

After our quick mini reunion we race to the top of Muir Hut to sign the log book, peek our heads inside Muir Hut, and take a few pictures. I stuff my camera back inside my down jacket pocket, underneath my Driduck jacket and we turn around to face the descent.

*You'll just have to take my word for the rest of this post, because my camera lived in my pocket for the remainder of the day. Too much wind, ice, snow, hail, rain, rock ledges, etc.*

Now, I thought the weather was bad before, but when we turned around to hike off the summit, this grey-white blur of a cloud had moved in so close that you could hardly see 15 yards away. We hurry down the summit as fast as we can, but Aaron slips a bit on some ice onto a nearby rock. His trekking pole broke his fall which is good for him, but bad for his trekking pole, because now it is broken. I'm not sure if I wrote about this before, but here is the shape our trekking poles are in: Aaron had broke one a few days ago somewhere in between Glen and Forester so he didn't even bother taking it up to the summit of Whitney, and the other one has just snapped in two right here. I had one that was fully functional, and one that doesn't lock all the way and has been jerry-rigged to stay open at a certain length with a combination of KT tape and duct tape. Great. So far my lucky penny isn't doing much for either of us. I give him one of my trekking poles and we start hiking again, only this time much slower. The storm has grown much more intense and is now blowing snow sideways at our faces, which makes it very hard to keep our eyes open. Besides stinging our faces, the snow has also covered up patches of ice, that minutes before were visible and easily avoidable. Every once in awhile my foot slips on a patch of ice, and I can't help but think about how far the drop would be to my immediate right. However, on the positive side, it is kind of nice not being able to see how far down the drop would be... you know... out of sight, out of mind.

The storm keeps getting worse, but after the longest and possibly most difficult 1.9 miles of my life we reach Trail Crest. Our packs are now completely covered with snow to the point that you wouldn't notice them unless you knew where to look. Just as we're shaking our packs off, two guys come hiking up to the top of Trail Crest. They explain that they wanted to summit Whitney, but there is no way they are thinking of doing that in this storm. Apparently, one of the guys has just hiked Whitney not too long ago, so he's a bit familiar with this section of trail down toward Whitney Portal. I have never felt so relieved in my life to see two strangers, especially knowing that they are familiar with this trail. At this point, the snow has been coming down heavily and is still blowing sideways, so the trail - when we can catch a glimpse of where it should be in the white-out conditions - is totally unrecognizable to us.

I have been in some very uncomfortable and scary situations while backpacking, but this one takes the cake. Looking down the other side of Mt. Whitney, where Whitney Portal and Lone Pine should be, is maybe 15 yards of possible trail. Everywhere you look it is completely white. The clouds block all the views and the fresh layer of snow makes it almost impossible to see where a switchback switches around. If it hadn't been for those two guys we followed down the side of Mt. Whitney, I'm almost positive one of us would have taken a false step somewhere and ended up in a very sticky situation. As we're hiking down the trail, the snow continues to sting our faces which makes my eyes tear up only adding to my visibility problem. The snow and ice begins to collect on the bottom of my pant leg, and creates this icy weight that I keep swinging around with every step. Aaron stops a few times to help fix this situation by knocking the ice off my pants, but it doesn't seem to make any difference. Mt. Whitney: 1, Rose and Aaron: 0.

As we continue making our way through the storm toward Lone Pine, we come to a section of trail where someone has kindly placed a rope banister so no one falls to their death down this mountain side. A dayhiker comes up behind me and starts to jump down this section of trail like he has skies on. I wish I could find some joy in this like he is, but all I keep thinking of is trying to have both of us arrive all in one piece in Lone Pine so we can have a beer(s) and sleep in a real bed with real pillows. Pillows! Beer! A real bed! It's almost enough to make a person get through this.

After about an hour the snow begins to lighten up and the clouds move a bit so we aren't walking in them anymore and we can finally see where we are hiking and the drop to the bottom that is still so far away. Without the snow and wind howling in my ear, I can hear something else I haven't heard yet on this trail. Water. Apparently, there is a stream that runs straight down this mountain side and right down the middle of these switchbacks. Every time we near the middle of a switchback we can hear rushing water underneath our feet under a layer of snow, ice, and rocks. Right now, I'm just glad it's cold enough that we aren't breaking through the ice, because I don't know if I could take walking in cold, wet shoes on top of all of this.

As we decend lower and lower, the snow peters out and gives way to mud and huge puddles. The two hikers we had been following stop for a break near the dayhiker (who is clearly not having a good time anymore by the look of his soaking clothes and the sour puss on his face). Now that we can see something that resembles the trail we try to pick up the pace to get off this awful mountain side. I try to stay away from the puddles in order to keep my feet at least somewhat dry, but after awhile the puddles turn into a stream that turns into the trail, and there is nothing to do but get our feet wet and keep moving so we can stay warm. After about a half hour break from some sort of precipitation, it begins to rain. This is possibly the most physically uncomfortable that I can remember myself being. My face is wind burnt, everything I own is soaked, my feet are freezing and soaking wet, I can feel new blisters forming, my body is way beyond exhausted, and we have just hiked about two of the longest, slowest miles in the history of ever - and there are still about five left to go!

I can feel a meltdown coming, so we take a quick break and crawl under a rock (literally) that offered us both a little room to get out of the rain for a minute if we both sat cross legged and hunched over. While we're waiting, Aaron replaces the batteries in the SPOT that lasted us until we got to the top of Mt. Whitney (go figure), and he presses the OK button to let our families know we're alive. Every time I've talked to my parents on this trip thus far they mentioned how they've been glued to the SPOT google map, tracking our hike all day, pulling up images of where we are on Google Earth to get a feel of what we're seeing, and taking bets on where we will stop for the day. I wish right now they would find me on Google Earth, and notice the storms and all this ugly weather and send some emergency rescue helicopter to get me off this stupid mountain and take me somewhere warm. Ugh.

Knowing tonight that we will be able to drink beer, take showers to get all this mud off us, drink beer, sleep in warm beds with entirely too many pillows, drink beer, and not get rained on at any point during the day or night propels us out from under the rock and gets us moving again. Once we finally reach the treeline it begins to rain harder, but this time we're at least a little sheltered by the trees, which is greatly appreciated.

About three miles from Whitney Portal, we pass two guys who are sitting on top of their huge packs staring up at Mt. Whitney. I ask them if they are intending on going up there today.
"Well, we were thinking about it, but the storm looks pretty bad, so we didn't really want to get above the treeline. Did you come from Mt. Whitney?"
"We did, and trust me, you do not want to go up there today. It's brutal."
We talk to them for awhile, and I ask them if they know anything about a shuttle that will take you from Whitney Portal to Lone Pine. Apparently, no such shuttle exists (which sucks), but then one of them, Dave, tells us that he is planning on going back to Lone Pine tonight because of the storm and that he wouldn't mind giving us a ride - woo! Lucky penny! Our day is finally looking up!

We follow both of them down the mountain toward Whitney Portal. Even though their packs are so much bigger and heavier than ours, they are flying down this mountain. We don't want to hold them up, so we make our tired selves go faster to keep up with them (which ultimately causes my left quad to go all pins and needley for the next two and a half weeks, but at least we got a ride into town! Lesson learned - hike at your own pace.). Just as we are nearing Whitney Portal and we can catch glimpses of asphalt in between the trees, Dave shouts out to everybody to watch out for the bear. What?! We've just walked about 226 miles (including side trips), and we've never seen a bear once, well... until now!

We pile in Dave's car and take off for the Lone Pine Comfort Inn. After doing nothing but walking for almost three weeks straight, it's amazing how fast it feels like you're going when you get to ride in a car. After checking in at the Comfort Inn, we each take some of the longest showers and sprawl on the bed (a real bed!) to think about what we want for dinner. There's not many choices in Lone Pine, so we settle for a huge pizza and a bunch of beers. Just as we're leaving the Comfort Inn to go pick up our pizza and beer, we see some hikers walking towards us... wait a minute... It's Mike!! The last time we had seen him was when we left Red's Meadow and he stayed behind to wait for his hiking friends to join him for the next leg of his trip. I can't believe that we bumped into him after so many miles! Apparently, he was a day or two behind us and by the time he reached Forester Pass, some Park Rangers had blocked the pass off and said it was impassable due to a huge amount of fresh snow and this storm that's been chasing us for the past few days. I'm really glad to see one of our hiking friends, but I feel badly for him knowing how far he hiked and that he was about a day and a half from completing this trail in its entirety... maybe he'll try again next year.

We bring the pizza and beer back to the hotel to eat it in bed surrounded by extra pillows before we fall asleep around 9pm. Even though showers, pizza, beer, clean clothes, beds, and pillows are really nice, I have a feeling that I'm going to miss this trail and hiking everyday. There is definitely something about that simplistic lifestyle that I have really come to love and know I will miss.

Maybe on the drive home tomorrow, we can start to plan our next medium-distance backpack trip... that would be nice.

Who says you can't hike the entire JMT in trail runners? If you have a 14 pound base weight you can!!

You can enlarge any of these pictures by clicking on them.

Day 18

Day's start: just before Center Basin Creek
Day's end: Crabtree Junction
Day's miles: 18.1 miles (!!)
Total trip miles: 203.1 miles

We woke up early this morning to get a jump start on what promised to be an exceptionally long day. When I poked my head out of the tent this morning I was greeted by a fine layer of snow everywhere, which had whited out a lot of the mountain tops around us. After shaking the rain off everything, fixing and bandaging up our feet, eating a quick breakfast, and saying good morning to our neighbors, we got moving. We wanted to at least get over Forester today by 10 or 11 in case the storm rolled in again. If we were going to be stuck somewhere again, we at least wanted to be on the other side of Forester so we would still have a shot of getting to the summit of Mt. Whitney the following day.

Yesterday afternoon there was no snow on the mountain tops...

Climbing above the treeline, we came to the last camp before the ascent to Forester Pass. Originally this is where I wanted us to have ended last night, but seeing it this morning I knew we made a safe decision to camp within the treeline last night. Soon enough, we came across two guys who had camped in this spot last night. We stopped to talk with them a little bit about the weather and Forester, and asked how they'd slept last night. "Not too good! Too windy!"

 Leaving foresty Upper Vidette Meadows and nearing the windy campsite

The climb to the top of Forester was cold this early in the morning as the sun hadn't yet crested over the mountains, but we kept ourselves moving so we wouldn't get too cold. Before we began the JMT, we had heard nothing but horror stories about how steep Forester was, and how it was surely the worst of all the mountain passes. We did not find this to be the case. The trail to the top of Forester Pass wasn't very steep at all compared to other passes we had done already. It was just really, really long. The switchbacks were so long going up to the top that you could almost spend 25 minutes going in one direction before you switched around to go the other way!

The last bit of trail to the top of Forester ended up being completely covered with fresh snow, so we climbed over snow and boulders (on trail? off trail? we couldn't tell) until we reached the top. We took a very quick break to take in the beautiful view and inhale a Snickers before we began the quickest descent down a mountain pass we've done yet. We needed to cover a lot of distance today. Now that the rest of the day was going to be mostly downhill, we had to really put it in high gear.

Photoshop-ed so you can read it better - I heart Rose. Isn't he nice?

Forester Pass

The direction we came from...

...and to the south where we are headed (one of my personal favorites)

Since there was no one up there to take our picture, we tried to do it ourselves but I don't think we're very good at it... either that, or the sun is just always in our eyes every direction we turn...

...wish we had a good one from the top of Forester. Oh well, maybe we'll just have to hike the JMT again to get a better one...

After flying down the south side of Forester - which was quite steep, those who hike up this side of Forester are the people who give it it's bad reputation - we passed Tyndall Creek where the trail leveled off a lot. We walked/ran the next 3.7 miles to get off the treeless Diamond Mesa until we reached the treeline again near Sheperd Pass trail.

Hiking on Diamond Mesa passing Tyndall Creek

 What was chasing us...

Looking on the map, there was only one last place on today's agenda that would take us well out of the treeline again (Bighorn Plateau), and with the clouds moving closer and turning an ugly dark grey color, we figured we'd save our next break until we passed the plateau.

Just as we rounded the top of a hill and could see the treeless expanse that was Bighorn Plateau, it started storming. We hiked as fast as we could over Bighorn Plateau being chased by rain, thunder, and lightning that seemed to be moving closer overhead by the minute. As soon as we saw trees we picked up the pace until we were well within the treeline and could take a much deserved break.

Nearing Bighorn Plateau

Even with a storm overhead, you have to stop to laugh at this, right?

We kept up a really fast pace until we came to Wallace Creek, where our last climb of the day began. Combined with muddy trails and all the running and fast hiking we had done today I was feeling pretty tired, so when we neared Crabtree Junction we both agreed that we could stop for the day. Originally we wanted to try to get to Guitar Lake today, but that was another two miles away (don't laugh at me - two miles felt like it would take forever at this point in the day), and it was also above the treeline. No matter the reason, I was very happy to have made it the 18.1 miles to Crabtree Meadow and be able to stretch my tired body, eat, and sleep. This would be our last night on trail after almost three weeks on the JMT. Tomorrow we wake up well before the sun comes up to summit Mt. Whitney and complete the entire John Muir Trail. I don't think I'm ready for this hike to be over just yet - I'm enjoying it far too much; blisters, pulled hip flexor, rolled ankles, dirty hair/clothes/body, being chased by rain/hail/snow/lightning, and all... well... I could do without the soaking tent.... that would be nice. It's the small things, I guess.

After Wallace Creek, we finally began to see some signs for Mt. Whitney!!

Nearing Crabtree Meadows

You can enlarge any of these pictures by clicking on them.

Day 17

Day's start: Lower Rae Lake
Day's end: Upper Vidette Meadow
Day's miles: 10.4 miles
Total trip miles: 185 miles

This morning we got up, packed up our gear and ate breakfast right before we were passed by the backpacking family. Apparently, we had stopped a little farther past them last night. As they were scheduled to summit Mt. Whitney the same day as us, I figured we would be leap-frogging with them a lot these last few days.

We got going just as the sun was starting to light up everything and the birds were beginning to wake up. Around all these lakes there were so many different birds I heard that it sounded like something out of Jurassic Park. Pretty soon we wound our way to Middle Rae Lake, which was just stunning, and stopped to take a few pictures. After passing the Sixty Lakes Trail about 1/3 of a mile down the trail, we began a very steep and rocky ascent up to the top of Glenn Pass. We weren't alone this morning, and we passed and were passed by about half a dozen backpackers.

Middle Rae Lake

Beginning to climb Glenn Pass

By the time we made it to the top of Glenn Pass and had taken our well-deserved Snickers break, we were passed by an older man who was really taking his time and enjoying the view. We chatted for awhile when he reached the top and I asked him if he had passed anyone who might have been Rob (we figured we must be right behind him at this point). The man said he and his wife had camped next to someone that sounded an awful lot like Rob. The Rob-look-a-like and his wife (who were faster hikers), had taken off this morning over the pass and were planning on waiting for him just before Kearsarge Pass Trail, a little less than two miles away. We figured that if that really was Rob we couldn't be more than a mile and a half behind him, so we got going and hoped we could meet up with our hiking friend one last time before the trip was over.

View from the top of Glenn Pass - we are headed to the left/south

Pretty, icy lake on the northern side of Glenn Pass

Hiking down the other side of Glenn Pass we stopped to refill our water bottles and were passed by the two lightweight backpackers. We talked with them for awhile and learned they had planned to stay the night at Upper Vidette Meadow which was about five miles away. One of the guys had hiked this area before and knew Upper Vidette Meadow was one of the nicer places to camp in the area and also that it was the last place to camp in the treeline before climbing Forester Pass.

Continuing down the trail after our break we passed the Kearsarge Pass Trail (no Rob - maybe we'll meet up with him again on another trail) and were greeted by a Park Ranger and two horses who were bringing a re-supply to a father-daughter team. The Park Ranger stopped us to talk for awhile, checked that we had our permits and bear canisters, and then gave us the weather forecast. Apparently the clouds we had watched roll in during the past couple afternoons were not the "normal afternoon high Sierras afternoon shower clouds", but was the beginning of a much larger storm system that's going to roll over this neck of the woods (think Forester Pass, Crabtree Meadows, and Mt. Whitney) for the next three days.
Perfect timing! We're supposed to summit Whitney in two days!
We were advised to keep a careful watch out for storm clouds and not to attempt to cross mountain passes if the clouds looked at all threatening. If we did try to climb mountain passes in foul weather we were to expect, rain, hail, thunder, lightening, snow, and to keep in mind that we could seriously injure ourselves or possibly die. Lucky penny, don't fail me now!

Charlotte Lake near Kearsarge Pass Trail

After the weather report we really picked up the pace, aiming to get as close to Forester today as possible, so that we had a chance to still summit Whitney on the 11th, two days from now. Stopping to talk with the Park Ranger had given the father-daughter team time to organize and load up their packs and they soon caught up to us as we descended toward Bubbs Creek. We hiked with them for awhile, and learned they were planning on staying the night in Upper Vidette Meadow as well - the same place as the two lightweight backpackers.

After crossing Bubbs Creek, we ran into the backpacking family again who had stopped for a quick lunch. We discussed the weather and how long we might have before the storm clouds rolled over us and it began to rain or snow. We figured we might have a few hours - better get moving! We fixed our blisters, stuffed our faces with the last of the summer sausage (thanks Mom and Dad!), and got moving as fast as our feet could take us.

Looking down the valley toward Upper Vidette Meadow

Even though we were trying to hurry, I had to document the first sign of bears we'd seen yet on this trip - the claw marks went on about 5 or 6 feet above my head!

Within about an hour the gray storm clouds gathered overhead and we started to feel sprinkles. We pulled on our Driducks and not a minute too late because the light sprinkle quickly became a downpour. Ugh. I just hate hiking in the rain, especially when there will not be a hot shower, hot meal, hot chocolate, and a dryer for my clothes at the end of the day.

As we continued to climb toward Forester the rain came down harder and the thunder and lightning began, which just turned the trail to a puddled, muddy mess. We pass what is a clear campground with bear boxes and everything, but continued toward Forester - I was determined to do as many miles as possible today so we could stay on schedule. Soon enough the trees began to thin out as we climbed above the treeline. At this point, Aaron stops and tells me this isn't very safe and we should turn around and stop for the night at the campground with the bear boxes, or at least wait out the worst of the storm. I sooo want to keep going and log more miles today to make the next, and final two days of the trip more manageable. I'm about to open my mouth to say how it's a dumb idea to stop so early today just because of a few raindrops when I hear thunder/see lightning.... you remember what you learned about thunderstorms when you were little? That when you see lightning you're supposed to count the number of seconds before you hear thunder and then you'll have the number of miles away the storm actually is or something like that. Well... there is no counting for this one. Not even a fraction of a second. This storm is directly on top of us and we're basically the tallest things around. At this point, I agree that Aaron is right and we high tail it back to the safety of the trees, all the way back to the campground with the bear boxes.

At the campground there are two tarps and two tents already set up. Apparently, we aren't the only ones to call it quits in this storm. We set up camp as quickly as possible and crawl inside to play cards while we warm up and wait out the storm. With about two hours of daylight left the storm lightens up and eventually stops. Gradually, all of the people who had pitched their tents and tarps come out to see how much rain and snow had fallen. As it turns out our neighbors are the two lightweight backpackers and the father-daughter team. As it's dinner time, we all gather together on a large rock (the driest spot around) to cook our dinners together and get to know each other a little better. One of the two lightweight backpackers makes (and sells!) his own gear, and they both use a similar cook system to what we've used in the past. The father-daughter team have been out here for 23 days (!!!) and in about three or four days they will summit Whitney and complete the JMT. They talk about how they're enjoying this long hike more than they thought they ever would, what their favorite parts have been, and how they spent about a half hour being entertained by a marmot a few days ago - of which they have about 100 pictures. Apparently none of their friends or family members thought they would make it more than three days - now look at them! About three days to go and they'll complete the John Muir Trail!

Impromptu dinner party

After we finish eating it begins to rain again, so we wish each other good luck and crawl back inside our tents. Better get a good night's sleep so we can climb Forester early and pull some big miles tomorrow!

You can enlarge any of these pictures by clicking on them.

Day 16

Day's start: Lake Marjorie
Day's end: Lower Rae Lake
Day's miles: 13.9 miles
Total trip miles: 174.6 miles

Happy Birthday Aaron!!!!
Today is Aaron's birthday, so we slept in a little bit this morning. When we got moving, the climb up to the top of Pinchot Pass wasn't even that bad! Birthday miracle! Along the way we ran into a two man hiking team who had super lightweight, hand-made looking packs. In between taking loads of pictures, we managed to make it to the top of Pinchot about the same time as them.

Leaving behind Marjorie Lake

View from the top of Pinchot - the left of the picture is north facing, and the right is looking south where we are headed.

Didn't I write something on day 1 about how my white shirt was never going to be this white ever again... didn't lie.

 Beginning the descent after Pinchot Pass

After Pinchot, the better part of the morning and early afternoon was going to be downhill until we crossed the suspension bridge at Woods Creek, so I was gearing up for an easy day.
Didn't happen.
The first mile or two was pretty smooth going, and then the trail just turned into this ugly combination of steep switchbacks on large rocky boulders. Ugh. This really slowed us down a lot, which I found increasingly frustrating because we had to pull some big miles each of these last days of the trip if we wanted to finish on our planned day, and this was just slowing us up.

When we were about a mile or two from the suspension bridge this ugly trail got uglier. The tree cover tapered away, and soon we were left with just a rocky, wobbly, slow trail and lots of hot weather. I kept watching the map and tracking where we supposed to be, and we were just falling farther and farther behind where I had hoped we would be. Soon we came within one mile of the suspension bridge and saw on the map that we should be crossing a creek every 1/4 of a mile. Perfect. This way I could really keep track of where we were. After passing the first creek crossing, it was almost a half hour before crossing the next one. This meant our pace was about 1 mile per hour. That is sooo slow! I haven't felt this frustrated on the trip in... ever, I think.

We tried to pick up the pace, but by the time we passed the third creek crossing I realized we had fallen even farther behind (how is this possible?!). This was the one mile from hell! I couldn't take this downhill section with the boulders and the relentless sun anymore. I snapped. I was dirty, and tired, and hating how slow this section of trail was, so I started yelling about how I hated this trail and just wanted to go home. I tried to get moving even faster than before, determined to get this stupid mile over with, so I started running down the trail.
Big mistake.
In the middle of running, my foot (with the couple week old rolled ankle) stepped wrong off a rock and I rolled it. This time when I screamed, it was because my ankle hurt so bad I figured I had torn another ligament. I couldn't put weight on it and dropped to the ground. Aaron ran over and helped me move underneath a nearby tree, so at least I wouldn't have to be baked in the sun on top of all of this... To press the SOS button on the SPOT, or not?

We took our shoes off, elevated my foot, and settled in for a couple minute break. After about a half hour, I had cooled off a bit and tried standing on my foot. It was a little tender, but I could walk. I guess I just pulled on something that was still trying to heal? I'm not sure. After I knew I could hike again, we put our packs back on and walked around the corner and guess what we saw? That damn suspension bridge.

After crossing it, we bumped into the backpacking family and the two lightweight guys we had met this morning on Pinchot Pass. All of them said they had a lot of difficulty with this downhill section and that it was up for the "worst section of trail" award thus far. Good that I wasn't the only one who had a hard time with that section, but I should probably have just taken a few deep breaths instead of going so crazy I ended up hurting myself. Lesson learned. I'll try to be more patient from now on.

We took a good, long break near the creak and soaked our feet as long as we could stand the cold water before we got moving. We kept a steady pace going uphill, while watching some storm clouds roll closer. After passing the Baxter Pass trail about two miles later, the trail leveled out so we picked up the pace to try to race the storm and see how far we could get before we'd have to stop for the night.

Pretty Dollar Lake

 Storm clouds rolling in

We ended up making it to Lower Rae Lake before we set up camp for the day. We made our favorite dinner (ramen noodle soup with chicken and vegetables), split a brownie my parents had baked and shipped to us at Muir Trail Ranch, and had cocktails to celebrate Aaron's birthday. Also, I carried a light up "Celebrate!" pin (also shipped by my parents - thanks!), which Aaron sported for the better part of the evening. This was Aaron's third birthday in a row where we have been able to celebrate in the backcountry. Hopefully for the next one, I won't have such a crazy meltdown moment in the middle of it. Oops.

You can enlarge any of these pictures by clicking on them.