This entry is the second in a series of three documenting our trip to the Sierra Nevada mountains and the John Muir Trail. The full picture set is available on
Flickr.
After coming into town at the end of the last entry, we took a zero-day to figure things out and get set to go again. Our friends weren't going to be able to hike again for at least a few days due to blisters (we did talk them into buying heavier-duty boots) so we headed back out alone. Instead of starting where we'd left off, we bought a ride further down the trail to a section noted for being particularly beautiful.
The drive alone took us past 9,000' in elevation and that was for the parking lot at the bottom of the pass (we learned on this trip that 'pass' means "mountain that isn't quite as tall as the ones next to it while also being flat enough to construct a trail on"). On the plus side, it was a nice, sunny day, and we got a reasonably early start.
We were going over Piute Pass, which cannot be seen in this picture. This is leading up to it.
We felt that Piute Pass was probably the most scenic area of the trip. We went up past several small lakes in a series of ever-higher valleys.
Eventually we passed above treeline and things got rockier.
View from the summit. We found the elevation was really slowing us down - we needed regular pauses to breathe for a bit. We'd feel strong/normal for a few steps after each break and then the fog would start creeping back in. Ana reported seeing stars on the periphery of her vision. This is not normal for us hiking at lower altitudes.
Sure was pretty though. For a while...
A few hours later, clouds rolled in, the temperature dropped sharply, and it started intermittently raining and hailing. The largest hail was pea-sized and it definitely stung. We soldiered through it for a while but after a couple hours we were soaked, chilly, and not making much progress so we called it a day and camped. Ana, in trying to find a silver lining, noted that the hail, in slicing up the vegetation, made everything smell piney and herbaceous, which was pleasant but not a fair trade for the hail.
The next morning was dry, if cold, and we were glad we'd camped - the trail beyond that point was very rocky and exposed and would have been dangerous in addition to miserable in the rain.
We had a food shipment waiting for us at John Muir Ranch so we went a couple miles out of our way to pick it up. Our friends had also shipped there and weren't going to pick it up so we opened both barrels and raided their bucket for goodies. They'd spent more time than us thinking about food and we found a lot of new-to-us bars and snacks in there that added variety and interest to our diet (for instance, buffalo and cranberry bars). We had a lot more than we could carry and were accused by other hikers of working for Pro-Bar as we attempted to give a huge pile of them away. For the record, Pro-Bars are excellent fuel, but no matter how excellent they are we couldn't carry an extra 10lb of them through the mountains. Ana was finding her new boots collected rocks and bought giraffe-print gaiters to keep those out.
Muir Ranch, as a major resupply point for the JMT, has a major store of hiker goodies that people have left behind/donated to future hikers that are kept in buckets (we needed a new bucket just for the Pro-Bars we left). I ate three packages of jerky out of the donation bins as I was craving protein. However, not all hikers are American and not all hikers donate recognizable food items. Some other hikers who were resupplying got into a stash of Korean "fish bars" from the donation bins. Someone brave ate one and declared it not bad, and then several people sampled them and came to largely the same conclusion - but shortly thereafter a hiker who could read the label came in and informed people that the 'bars' were actually soup mix. I think the people eating them mostly shrugged and kept going, but it was pretty funny.
We took much longer here than we needed for the resupply to dry out ourselves and our boots after the rain of the day before.
Deer are not afraid of people on the JMT.
That afternoon clouds formed again and as rain started coming down we ducked into cover in a grove of trees to wait out the hail and lightning, which was both heavy and close. It ended after an hour or so and we continued in light rain and made decent time.
The sun even peeked out over the mountains a little.
We made our intended campsite at Evolution Creek, did a really good PCT bag-hang (our bear canister was too full after the resupply to hold everything), and generally felt like things were going pretty well.
The next morning we had to do the one actual stream-fording of the whole adventure. Fortunately the creek had dropped overnight and it was not deep. It was, however, VERY cold.
Cold cold cold cold cold!
After crossing Evolution Creek, we hiked up into the Evolution Lakes area, which is one of the more scenic on the JMT.
I would say that it lived up to its billing but Piute is prettier.
The further we went the more numerous and darker the clouds got.
As we approached Muir Pass, which we wanted to cross and be well down the other side of by the end of the day, it started raining and thunder started rumbling around 2PM. We really didn't want to climb another 1,500 feet into more exposed territory with virtually no camping spots into the teeth of a storm so we made camp and got under cover. An hour later it looked like the storm had cleared up and we had almost completely struck camp before the clouds came back in and it started raining again. We talked to hikers coming down from the pass and they said it was pretty ugly up ahead, especially on the other side of the pass, so we stayed put. Stopping so far from our goal for the day meant the schedule was out the window and we'd have to exercise our abort path, but I asked myself "If I went up there and was injured or died, would people say That was completely unforeseeable or What a dope?" The answer was too close to What a dope so we stayed put. Looking at the clouds over the pass, I felt increasing confidence in our decision as they were quite dark and enduring. We had a lot of time to kill before the next morning and spent most of it asleep, though Ana also got some knitting done (she added a whole 4oz. to her weight budget for needles and yarn and carried them the whole way).
Wanted no part of that storm at nearly 12,000' without cover.
The next morning was clear and dry again so we scampered up the pass as best we could in the altitude. We were still slow but substantially faster than before, closing in on 2 miles an hour uphill at elevation, which isn't too bad.
Muir Pass
The lakes up there often seem very blue indeed.
Hut erected in memory of John Muir decades ago. Still very solid.
This could definitely save your life in a storm. Glad we hadn't been up here needing it the day before.
The other side going down was quite rugged but very pretty.
We walked down this postcard-perfect valley along the river.
Was still fairly steep in places.
We were hearing from hikers who had been in the valley the previous day that they'd gotten several inches of accumulated hail in the storm the previous day. Remains of it inches deep could still be seen in the shadows in the warm midafternoon. The rangers were saying the weather was going to stay bad and that the next day was going to be particularly wet. We were seeing a very clear pattern where each day started clear, gradually got cloudy, and eventually dumped on us. We had a sneaking suspicion that it was the same water each time as the clouds did not move - they formed directly overhead and simply dissipated after dumping their rain and hail on us. However, the rangers were saying that tomorrow was going to bring in a storm system from outside. We were exiting over Bishop's Pass and wanted to get as far along as we could before the weather turned sour.
This is a view from the other end of that valley, going up the side towards Bishop's Pass.
We found an enormous drift of accumulated hail on the trail, probably 8-10" deep. Yikes. Also, green pine needles were down everywhere, having been knocked off the trees by the hail.
This day was still looking pretty nice, but we stopped at the last marked campsite short of the pass anticipating another afternoon thunder-hailstorm....which never materialized. Some weather-traumatized through-hikers who were aborting their trip across the pass looked at the sky like dogs expecting a beating. The consensus was that it not raining today made everybody very nervous about tomorrow. The through-hikers had been out for 14 days and reported that it had rained on 12 of them. It should be noted that the JMT is supposed to be a classic summer hike specifically because of dry and temperate conditions. The rangers confirmed that we'd been getting more than twice as much precipitation as usual and that it was looking to continue indefinitely. We had a nice night talking with the other hikers and hanging out, which was much more fun that staying the tent for 13 consecutive hours the previous day.
This is similar to our reaction to hail thunderstorms - we stuck our toes in more really cold water in lieu of one this day.
We were awoken by a thunderstorm at 4 AM, thinking the worst case scenario had come to pass and we'd be rained on all day. When it was time to pack up and go (5:30 AM), it was merely overcast and we wanted to make as many miles as possible before more rain arrived.
We walked upwards through Dusy Basin and it was quite scenic, but we didn't want to pause much. We passed a gentleman who had come over the pass the night before, heard about today's hypothetical weather, and was headed right back out over the pass.
We saw spots of blue sky and sun in the distance but the clouds didn't dissipate.
As we summited the pass (just under 12,000' elevation) thunder rolled around us and Ana reminded me that if my hair stood on end the current best practice is to hunch over and grab my ankles, which is more likely to route the lightning strike through limbs rather than head and heart. Thankfully we didn't need to employ this technique. We did get hit by hail again...and again...and again (total of five times this day).
The first part of the down was very rocky, rugged and steep. We were torn between getting the hell down away from the storm and not wanting to slip and fall.
It cleared up a bit and we got intermittent rain and hail on the way down but not soaking heavy rain after the summit.
One moment that will live forever for me that we experienced walking down Bishop's Pass was running into about four young gentlemen in hoodies and shorts who asked us "Have you seen any caves? For in case it rains." Having already been rained on several times that day, standing there stinking and damp in our rainproof coats, packs, boots, etc, it was hard to overstate the fact that there were no caves, that relying on caves was not a valid Sierra Nevada survival strategy, that given the weather they should not go up any further in altitude and in fact should return to their car as swiftly as due care allowed. I didn't point it out at the time, but if one of them got hurt they had no way to keep that person warm until help could arrive. They were only ~3 miles from the car but I hope they made it back down OK; we got rain and hail within minutes of speaking with them.
We at least made it to the parking lot intact. This was the abort exit. We were not expected to be there and of course couldn't get cell service, so walked another 1.5 miles to the first building with a pay phone. We didn't have any luck contacting our friends but we loaned our phone card to another hiker and when his ride came in we got a free ride back to Mammoth Falls which was fantastic (otherwise a 23 mile walk plus an hour's bus ride - but we would have hitched or something at least to the first town). In the meantime, since we were standing in the tiny store of a fishing resort, we learned a lot about high-altitude trout fishing from a few people obviously passionately dedicated to the sport. We checked into a hotel, and will pick up the adventure there in a future entry.