It was hard to anticipate just what hiking the John Muir Trail would mean to each of us. It’s been equally difficult to put into words a complete description of our day in/day out journey along the John Muir Trail. We struggled, we learned, we laughed and we celebrated. Each day was a combination of emotions that left us both exhausted and exhilarated as we climbed into our tent each night.
Sometimes it was better not knowing exactly where the trail would lead.
Sunsets created unique light.
Ten days before the Forest Service shut down the forest due fire danger, we were given the okay to have our one and only campfire. We affectionately renamed this forest service campground “Camp Tinderbox.”
Alarm at 5:00 a.m. Breakfast at 6:00. On the trail by 7:00. photo credit: Mark
A two-person tent was pretty tight quarters for two people.
The encouragement we received from our fellow hikers kept us going.
Most of all, we will remember what fun it was to share 30 days on the trail with nine other hikers and four packers with horses and mules. (Three not pictured above)
We were surprised by the sheer number of lakes, ponds and watering holes scattered along the John Muir Trail. Most were so crystal clear that we could count the fish swimming about. Our group was lucky enough to camp at a few of them and Reg and I enjoyed lunch along the shore of others. In between, I snapped photos left and right, hoping I’d be able to remember which was which.
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Reg traverses the narrow path across the summit of 11,926 ft. Glen Pass, definitely Type 2 Fun.
The packers were sharing stories of some of their crazy adventures when I first heard the term “Type 2 Fun,” an experience that is no fun as you live it, but in retrospect, one of the best times of your life. For the record, “Type 1 Fun” is enjoyable from start to finish. The dreaded “Type 3 Fun” is that never again feeling you get when you simply hope to make it home in one piece. Below is a link to an interesting article Outside magazine published on the subject. It explains why Reg and I keep going back to long distance trekking; the idea of a harmonious passion, or being absorbed in an activity that you choose to do because you love how it makes you feel.
Slide 1 – 11,926 Glen Pass,Slide 2 and 3 – 12,130 Pinchot PassSlide 4 and 5 – 12,100 ft. Mather Pass
Marie Lake shimmers below 10,898 ft. Selden Pass.
The mountain pass climbs were definitely Type 2 Fun for us, but once to the top, with gorgeous views like this, the experience quickly became Type 1 Fun. Tomorrow I’ll share more fun from our journey to the top of Selden Pass. I promise you won’t want to miss it!
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The trail in front of us promised a challenging day as it disappeared into the mountains ahead.
Reg and I are not the type of hikers who study the trail map in great detail every morning. As long as we are confident we can get from point A to point B, we look forward the surprises the trail offers, so we were quite pleased when the morning began with a pleasant walk along a fairly flat dirt trail.
But on our 6th day of walking we were aware there would be no escaping the tough climb ahead. Those of us who chose to sit out Mt. Whitney had no choice but to conquer 13,200 foot Forester Pass. The day wore on and the trail became steeper and rockier as we continued the 2,300 foot climb to the top of Forester Pass. We soon found ourselves on a series of long switchbacks, struggling over chunky granite cobblestones and clambering over boulders that stretched our legs to the limit.
And then the mules caught up with us. Normally they were roped together in 3 groups led by Emma, Wyatt and Tate on horseback. Before starting up the pass, the mules were untied for safety. They are pretty sure-footed animals, but if one slipped on the narrow, steep switchbacks while tied together, they would fall like dominoes, scattering rocks and boulders on hikers below.
I’m afraid my photos don’t do the scene justice, nor do they show just how treacherous and how tight the final switchbacks to the summit are.
Left photo shows my view of mule train after it passed me and summited Forester Pass. Right shows zoomed in section. After watching the packers move their horses and mules up and over the pass, Reg and I had no doubt that we were in good hands.
There is surprisingly little space on the top of the pass, but there are never ending 360 degree views.
I’m looking pretty relaxed after what was easily the climb of my life, but at this point our day was only half over. What more could John Muir confront us with?
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Emma’s kitchen was always the heart of our campsite.
In choosing to walk the John Muir Trail with the support of a mule team and packers, we realized far more benefits were more than we could have hoped for. While we still walked every knee-busting mile of the trail, our backpacks were reduced to a manageable 25+/- lbs. “Cheater” I was called once by a fellow hiker carrying an oversized pack. Well, that depends on one’s perspective doesn’t it? The fact is, Reg and I wanted to walk this iconic trail for ourselves and carrying a 40+ lb. pack was out of the question. We still worked hard. Every night Reg and I tidied ourselves up in a stream or lake, filtered water for the next day, washed a shirt or pair of socks or more, set up our tent, blew up our air mattresses, unfurled our sleeping bags and tried to organize ourselves prior to our 5:00 a.m. alarm…when the whole process reversed itself. Let me tell you, it was really cold at 5:00 in the morning on the John Muir Trail!
We also had a few rules to follow. No breakfast or coffee until all our mule-packed belongings were ready to go and placed on the packer tarps. It took all eleven of us (hikers) about an hour to pack up each morning. Because the horses and mules were let loose to graze overnight, we were not allowed to leave camp to start our daily hike until all stock had been accounted for. Without stock, our baggage could not be transported to the next camp and we would be without overnight supplies. Not often, but sometimes they wandered off under the cover of dark and the guys had to hunt for them in the early hours. One morning as I held my coffee cup out to Emma to fill, she warned me that the guys had been out searching for the horses and mules since 4:30 a.m. It wasn’t too long after breakfast that they all finally returned and we started our day. It seemed our four-legged friends had wandered miles back along the trail to enjoy greener pastures.
Theres no doubt that having our meals prepared for us each day was an incredible treat. Emma was amazing. She was up at 4:30 every morning making us all sandwiches or wraps to pack as part of our lunch. Breakfast could be any combination of eggs, pancakes, toast, sausage, bacon, oatmeal, cream of wheat and sometimes fresh fruit. Dinners were equally and unexpectedly good. Spaghetti and meatballs, chicken tacos, steak, hamburgers, basil pasta, shepherd’s pie and pork chops. Often we even had dessert – brownies or cake.
Our hardworking crew of four packers (left to right) Wyatt, Emma, Lane and Tate.
With all this support, we might just make it to the end of the trail!
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Crossing Wallace Creek and climbing 1,000 feet to the Bighorn Plateau eventually brought us to one of our more unique and out-of-the-way campgrounds near Tyndall Creek. The day was hot with long shadeless stretches that were especially tiring for all who had summited Mt. Whitney the day before.
The Shepherds Hut was well off the beaten path and one of the most unusual sites we camped in.
It might appear charming in the photo but by the time we all reached our campsite (a good mile off the trail and not well marked) it was late and getting dark. We all still had to set our tents up, organize our things and filter water for the next day…and we were all tired, cranky and hungry. Thinking back, this was possibly the low point of the trip for Reg and me. We went to bed wondering just what we had gotten ourselves into.
However, it wouldn’t be the last time that our itinerary seemed at odds with the reality of our day. We were learning that a John Muir Mile could not be trusted to cover the same short distance as a regular mile. And we had many more miles to go.
It was pitch black when Reg shook me awake and said, “Honey, I’m leaving.” Up until that point, I don’t think Reg had definitely decided to make the climb. It was 4:00 am and having made the decision to take a rest day, catch up on chores and better adjust to the altitude, I grunted and rolled over.
While I puttered around the campsite with three others who chose to remain behind, Reg and seven hikers from our group, along with Lane, one of our packers, journeyed to the top of the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States. There is no easy way to the top, and from what Reg said, much of it was a group effort of encouragement.
Reg continued up the trail and conquered the mountain, fulfilling one of the John Muir Trail goals he set for himself.
The afternoon brought good news from all seven hikers. Everyone had made it to the top, the weather was perfect and Reg managed to correct his wrong turn on the way down…before ending up at the wrong trailhead.
Pictured above is Lane, our walking packer who often brought up the rear of our daily hikes – checking on our progress and making sure we had what we needed. According to Reg, he was full of encouragement in the early morning hours of the Whitney climb. The photo on the right shows Guitar Lake, shaped like, you guessed it, a guitar. What a surprise!
What other surprises will John Muir’s Trail hold for us?
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Peaks in the distance, forest and meadow below and rocks under our feet.
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We entered Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks area, covering 20 miles in 2 days to reach Guitar Lake where we spent 2 nights. The trail eventually led us along Rock Creek where our second campsite was located. The next morning we had just over 3,000 feet of elevation gain before finally reaching (dragging ourselves) up to our Guitar Lake camp.
We secured our tent with a view of Guitar Lake on one side, and a gorgeous mountain view on the other.
Guitar Lake, elevation 11,400 feet, is a popular starting point for the iconic Mt. Whitney climb. Due to the quickly changing weather conditions at the top of Whitney, morning is considered the best time to start the 3,100 foot climb…and the earlier, the better. Our group of climbing hopefuls was scheduled for a 4:00 am breakfast call. Who would attempt the climb? Who would make it to the top?
We couldn’t believe the heavy loads mules are able to pack…about 20% of their body weight, or 150-200 lbs.
If you remember our last post, you’ll recall that over a month ago we were getting ready for the trip of a lifetime; a 243-mile, mule assisted trek along the John Muir Trail. I don’t know about Reg, but I certainly had plenty of misgivings right up to the moment we first set foot on the trail. We would be surrounded by wilderness with very few escape routes. A number of concerning “what ifs” had kept me up at night.
Regardless, our journey began on schedule August 2 at Horseshoe Meadow in California’s Inyo National Forest. We arrived to a bustling corral that looked straight out of a Hollywood western. Our final group count equaled eleven hikers, four packers with four horses and eight or ten mules…for some reason, Reg and I could never agree on the mule count.
This was our first glimpse of just how hard our packers would work over the next 30 days.
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Our 4.5 mile route for Day 1 took us up over 11,160′ Cottonwood Pass, then on to Chicken Spring Lake (11,242′) for the night. Total elevation gain: 1,400 feet. Was it really just 4.5 miles?
And so, after a dusty first day, we put up our tent, blew up our air mattresses, unrolled our sleeping bags, filtered our water for the next day and found just enough time for a short rest before dinner. What would the next 29 days reveal?
Reg and I spent last year, stuck at home, watching every YouTube hiking video we could find, dreaming of the time we could get ourselves back on one of Europe’s long distance trails. “If only we were willing to camp with our backpacks -tents, sleeping bags, the whole bit,” we’d say. “Then we could hike some of the gorgeous trails in our own backyard.”
I guess we’re really going to do this.
It was after a visit from friends Kathy and Doug early last spring that our plan quickly (impulsively) took shape. Their suggestion to my joking, offhand remark about needing a Sherpa if I was ever to backpack the John Muir Trail, was to look into one of the mule supported pack station trips available in the Eastern Sierra.
And that’s how we’ve found ourselves packed and ready to set off August 2 on a mule-assisted, 30-day, northbound backpacking trip along the John Muir Trail…and no, the mules are not for us to ride.
Distance: 243 miles, beginning at Horseshoe Meadow and traveling north, finishing at Happy Isle in Yosemite Valley.
46,800’ total elevation gain and 52,700’ elevation loss over the course of the trip.
Photo credit: Rock Creek Pack Station
There are seven of us in our group, plus the staff who will tend to all the details of transporting everything needed via mules, plus large bags of our stuff – including our tents, sleeping bags and pads, clothing and whatever other necessities we choose to bring. We will all carry individual packs with water and water filters, rain gear and whatever else we want to have at our fingertips. There will be no end of day hot shower or comfy bed that we’ve enjoyed on previous treks. We’ll have to set up and take down our tents, roll up our sleeping bags etc. There will be a decent amount of roughing it. The good news is we will have three meals/day provided by the staff cook. Should be an interesting trek. We’ll return with a full report once we’re back in civilization.