67 miles on the John Muir Trail with my brother Marty and wife Kathy

Jerry Damschen's 80th birthday party was the evening before we left for our grand adventure in the high Sierra. For whatever stupid reason or perhaps anxiety about the coming challenge, I continued the party at home until late in the night. Predictably, I awoke with stomach problems and we had regular stops going up 395 to get to Lone Pine to pick up the permit. My brother met us there and we dropped his car off at the trail head for Sawmill Pass, a little north of Independence. Imodium became my drug of choice on the way and I was still always happy for a rest stop.

We got to the Cold Water campground around 3 and began cleaning up the car to make it bear safe at the backpacker parking. We decided to jump the permit a bit to get away from the throng of summer vacationers. By nightfall we were a couple of miles up the trail and had the tents pitched. The Subway sandwich shop in Mammoth had quality issues and we ended up burying it like going number 2 in the wilderness, 6 to 8 inches deep. I ate another two Imodium for good luck and hit the sack.

The next day provided the Groundhog Day rhythm of the 8 day trip. Up at 5 AM, pack the tent, get the Laura Bar breakfast and small bag of Smart and Final granola mix out of the bear canister (required on the John Muir Trail), take my meds, repack everything into the backpack and hit the trail at about 6 AM.

It was kind of a suffer fest, just what I expected and deserved. We don't train with weight beforehand on backpacks, just saddle up and take a beating for the first few days. Kathy and Marty seemed much stronger than me and that was a bit disappointing. I was feeling a little down and thinking that maybe the John was going to be the weak link on this one. Was wearing mechanic light weight gloves to minimize the bruising that plagues the older guy taking blood thinner and statins. Whatever.

Kathy and Marty headed up to Duck Pass (click to enlarge)

By the time we made it to Duck Pass, I felt pretty wasted. We kept going for another few hours and had lunch of flour tortillas (do these things ever go bad?), salami, one slice of cheese and mustard. Immediately I felt less dizzy and disoriented. The mosquitoes were terrible, but that's what Jungle Juice is for (96% deet and toxic). Off and running again and had a nice hello with three Latinas from Mexico before heading up towards Virginia Lake. The drill on the JMT is to do a pass, hike down into some canyon or other and position your party for the next pass. Marty has done the JMT 3 or 4 times and can read maps well, so he is the boss man. I'm feeling really tired.

Second night, I found the camp. It was so close to the trail that we heard the campers going by until 7 or 8 that night. Kathy is very strong and taking Zquil at night, so sleeping like a (baby, no race horse). I'm just hanging on and trying to breathe through the night. Thinking that 11 or 12 days of this and I may be meeting my maker. I guess this is a good place to die, but don't really want to for 100 years or so. That would make me the oldest guy on earth at 174.

The next day is to be a big one. We are to do Silver Pass (10.7K feet elevation). Marty is a little slow today, don't know why. He has a funny look on his face when we do a creek crossing, but I'm too concerned about myself to ask him what's going on. The mosquitoes have reached a new level of hatching and most hikers are in long pants and head nests. I chicken out and change into my water shoes to do a crossing, as the water is high on most creeks and the risk of a water fall makes me a little conservative. It takes me 10 to 12 minutes to change out of my shoes and socks, get them on the pack and use my Crocks to cross. Kathy is much better and quick handed manual stuff and is probably at about 5 minutes. Marty and I look at each other but selfishly I just want to get away from the 100 or so mosquitoes that are loving me to death.

Kathy at Silver Pass

At the summit of Silver Pass we have a lunch break, but quickly finish our meal and are on our way because the sun is so intense and there is no shade. Further down on the south side, we find a tree which provides some respite. Marty works on his heels, and I see why he has been preoccupied. His heels are beyond blisters and are now raw flesh. When we are leaving, Kathy asks me in private whether she should offer him the option of going back. I agree and she went back to talk. He decides to continue and I am secretly happy with that decision because the way back seems so difficult that my confidence in getting back is not high.

Beauty and Beauty

The John Muir trail was started in 1914 and completed in 1938. John Muir, first president of the Sierra club, proposed the trail to the state legislature initially. The reason for this span of time was the amount of blasting that had to be done to carve a trail out of near vertical rock. The latter part of the day we saw why it took so long. But first, as we were proceeding to what Marty called a parachute drop, I slipped on a creek crossing and fell on a downed tree trunk. The under side of my arm was bleeding pretty good. There were as many flies on this trip as mosquitoes and they quickly started feeding. Kathy wrapped the gash with a bandanna and this solved the problem. We began dropping down a trail literally carved out of rock. It was steep and had big step downs similar to the route to Whitney. As usual, we wanted to get close to Tully's Hole to get a good jump on Bear Valley Ridge. This strategy is used to avoid being out of light at a high point where weather might come into play.

At 8400 feet elevation we finally found a campsite close to water and pitched camp after a 11 hour day of hiking. We are all using two poles, which reduces the stress on the knees by 30%. However, my right hand is getting overused with the poling, packing and assorted buckling. It starts to freeze in odd positions with fingers pointing every which way and won't cooperate with my conscious control for minutes at a time. We are in the middle of nowhere and this trip is starting to spook me. Kathy suggests that I just use my left pole tomorrow and as usual her advice lets me relax a bit.

Bear Valley Ridge flowers

The next day we proceed down toward Tully's Hole and as we get closer, the mosquitoes become relentless. We all are happy when we hit the switch backs on Bear Valley Ridge. It will gain 1900 feet in 2.5 miles, but the flowers and ferns are a wonderment. Marty is slow due to the pain with his heels and Kathy is strong as ever. We regroup at an overlook of the valley that leads to Sheldon Pass. We meet a man and his son from Minnesota. He says that the mosquitoes in the valley are much worse that anything in his home state! Oh boy, can't wait. We want to get as far as possible to not get stuck on the high part of the pass tomorrow night. Finally, we find a campsite right next to the roaring creek and enjoy some rest.

Tame Deer enjoying a snack

The water is very high through the valley and the next day we are in the business of water crossings, feeding mosquitoes and swatting flies. Marty confided at a later point that on that day he began to regret that we had not turned around at Silver. He brought up the possibility of a early termination of the trip and an exit over Piute Pass. I loved the idea.

It's always nice to get to camp

 The upper reaches of Sheldon were spectacular. In meeting the people sharing the trail with us, it became obvious that the composition of the hikers was at least 50% from other countries. Mexicans, Spanish, Germans, English, Aussies and Scandanavian were all represented. Many groups of young women and single women were also on the trail. The 220 miles of the JMT are unique in that the wilderness is not crossed by roads of any kind and the only signs of civilization are the jets that occasionally fly overhead.

Obligatory reflection below Sheldon

Marty near the top of Sheldon Pass with forever to the north

 On the pass the clouds are getting darker and look very threatening. Kathy asks me if it is safe for us to be on this exposed spot and I reply "probably not". We decide to try to take the first campsite we can find. At the second lake down we just beat a couple of people and start putting up the tent. The other people come and camp close to us. They are the same ones from Alabama that got close at the last campsite. We laugh about it and are in good spirits as Marty gets to camp and it starts to rain gently. Afternoon thunderstorms are the rule in the high Sierra and it is usually no big deal. We are at 10.2K however and I don't have a warm fuzzy about being this high in possible weather.

The calm before the storm

After a few hours of rain and some thunder we have a break and get some dinner. At about one hour, the sky turns dark again and it starts to rain and blow in earnest. For the next 6 hours we witnessed one of the most violent storms that I have experienced at altitude. The 15 year old Sierra Designs tent is a bit tall for a good mountain tent, which creates a sail area in strong winds. The pole structure is strong and well designed however. The first four hours had both strong rain and gusts over 50 mph. The sides of the tent were hitting us in the face if we sat up. The thunder was impressive in loudness, but there were no lightning strikes close to us. A little moisture would occasionally get through the weather proofing, but all in all the tent held up well. It was a scary experience and no sleep was possible. Finally, the winds abated and we slept deeply with relief.

The next day we hiked to the Muir Trail Ranch, picked up Marty's food supply 5 gallon bucket and took just enough to get us over Piute Pass. The ranch packs supply buckets by horseback from the western flank of the Sierra for $80. If you don't pick up your bucket, they will mail it back to your, which Kathy and I elected to do. We then proceeded to the Piute Creek bridge (elevation 8200 ft), where we camped in a nice clearing, surrounded by healthy Manzanita bushes. The Piute Creek was raging and loud, but there were virtually no bugs and we enjoyed some shade and rest. Our mood was good and Marty was able to text his wife Leslie and son Colin to arrange for a pickup at North Lake on Sunday, two days from now by using his In Reach sat system.

On the Piute Creek bridge

The trail in the lower reaches of Piute Canyon gains altitude by using the high step up construction, which is quite exhausting but gains a lot of altitude quickly. Kathy again displays her superior aerobic fitness and I don't see her for an hour or two. We will gain 1800 foot today and using some tired legs to do so. After Hutchinson Meadow, the amount of water across the trail is more than I have ever seen in the 25 years of going there. The snow pack was only 40% of normal, but all this runoff is coming from where? It reminds me of some years in the Anza Borrego desert, when creeks flood in what the stats show as so so rain winters. There are so many creeks crossing the trail after Hutchinson that the trail is easily lost. Once again, the bugs are very happy. We finally reach our usual campsite at 10,000 ft. It is into the tents and read the kindle time because the flies and mosquitoes are dense. Luckily I have a great book: "The Evolution of Beauty - How Darwin's Forgotten Theory of Mate Choice Shapes the Animal World- and Us" by Richard o. Prum. The bugs are so bad by dinner time that Kathy elects to skip dinner.

Marty is one tough hombre

Kathy always says that I'm too competitive and maybe that's true. But I do sense opportunity when it arises. Kathy had no dinner last night, but I ate a big one, freeze dried beef stroganoff  and bugs. This could be my chance to be the first to Piute Pass and some redemption. I pace her at the start but hang back a little. We have about 1500 ft elevation gain to the pass, no need to burn out early. Finally, my time comes and I start the engine. Towards the cresting of the switchbacks there is a point where you can see the pass and the trail gets easier after a water crossing. Near the top I stop to dig a hole and have a bathroom break. As I get to the water crossing to my dismay I see Kathy putting on her shoes on the other side. Damn! My slow change to water shoes will not do now. I take my chances on a poor rock placement and slip to a full submerge and hit something along the way.

I am completely soaked. Kathy offers a hand to get me out. Double damn. I change and wait for Marty, the race is officially over. I put the wet stuff in a sack and stop to take a pee. Unfortunately, I am peeing blood. Kathy consults Marty, who is a retired ICU nurse supervisor. He says force water to avoid a clot that could stop up the water works. I am feeling a bit tired and woozy but start powering the water and Kathy helps me keep the water bottle full. By the time we get to North Lake I have drunk about 3 or 4 quarts and am peeing clear. Whatever happened fixed itself.

It was great to see Leslie at North Lake and get in a car to go to the Best Western in Bishop. After checking in Kathy and I borrowed the car to get our truck at the Cold Water campground in Mammoth. Upon return, we had a shower and shared some good times with Marty, Leslie and Colin in their room. We then celebrated Colin's entrance to a Singapore University MBA program at the Whiskey Creek Inn in Bishop that evening. One of my best trips ever.