Nature is always lovely, invincable, glad, whatever is done and suffered by her creatures. All scars she heals, whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts. JM
(All photos today were taken from Doug Jones, Seattle)
26 July 2010
The Asian rice I had left overnight for the mice was gone in the morning. A few (well-fed!) mice flitted around me in the morning, where I took my time with breakfast of oatmeal and cocoa. I even spoke to the mice as if they were my campmates. When I left to start my hike near 8am, I said "good-bye" to them. I had spent 24-hours of complete solitude and was ready for human interaction again.
Today's hike toward Rae Lakes was a pretty hike. I was approaching the end of the maps I had so I took advantage of any details. I hiked another mile before I crossed the raging creek, walked over a hanging bridge (which gave me the jitters) and was now in the long upgrade. I walked slowly as I was in no hurry. I was still two days ahead of my 31 July exit date and from what I figured, would be off the trail by the 28th.
Several people passed me by, from an older father-son couple and a mother-sister-dughter group. One of the older women even asked me "Are you Connie?" They had met Tom and the boys a few days ago and Tom apparently told them I was retired army and hiking with a red backpack. So it was my red backpack that gave me away.
The woman who spoke to me first was Leslie, a former Navy officer (nurse) who now teaches nursing in Springfield, IL. Leslie was hiking with her sister Debbie from Boston and her daughter Michelle, who had served eight years in the Marine Corps and was now transitioning into the civilian world. The three women had seen me standing on Mather Pass. Michelle, the group's photographer, showed me the photo she took of me. There I was, a blur on top of Mather Pass, looking down into the valley. I remember that moment. I was watching two groups of three people walking in the valley, realizing that to get to that point where the people were required a long, steep downhill, and there were storm clouds to the south. The faster group of three people now I realize was Tom and the boys.
I ended up spending the rest of the day with Leslie, Debbie and Michelle and joined them for lunch at Dollard Lake, a small aquamarine lake nestled with pines. We talked a lot about military events, from Marine and army stuff to contemporary issues. It was my first intense conversation I had had on this hike, and my first deeply-political conversation. I hadn't discussed politics at all during my trek so far; politics don't belong in the pristine wilderness, but today it seemed quite natural with so many veterans in the group.
Leslie and Michelle ate their meal. I only had a Fruition bar as I wasn't hungry. I sat there with the gals on a warm rock and had no worries about how far I was going to go today. Michelle, the group's planner, had the entire trip mapped, profiled and scheduled. In the Marines she was a logistician. She planned daily treks of six to eight miles, and today's goal was Rae Lakes. I made it my goal as well, because anything after the lakes required a steep uphill over Glenn Pass.
We leapfrogged all afternoon. I'd hike on ahead, then wait for them to catch up with me. Debbie had trouble with the uphill so Michelle had to slow down for her mom and aunt. I stopped on my own; I just didn't have the speed anymore I had a few days earlier, before my dunk into that swollen creek. Today I focused on human contact.
This stretch was a scenic stretch and full of people. I hadn't seen this many people on the hike since the Red Meadows area. A large Boy Scout troop came the othe way as I approached a wide but shallow creek. I managed to cross it by hopping on rocks and dipping my boots into the water. The troop watched me cross, thanked me for "Showing them how to do it" and followed my footsteps in the opposite direction. Other people on the other side of the creek had taken off their shoes to cross. I guess I showed them, ha. (But little did they know that a few days earlier I had gotten a life's lesson on creek fording!)
The valley wasn't as steep as I had thought it was. On my Harrison map this looked long and steep, but in reality the eight miles was quite doable. Although mostly uphill, there were some pleasant rock boulders that jettisoned from the ground to provide interesting formations as the trail meandered around, over and through rock outcroppings before ending at Rae Lakes.
As soon as I crested into the northern part of Rae LAkes, a combination of several smaller lakes surrounded by high peaks, I smelled a wildfire. The breeze had carried what was clearly the smell of trees burning over Rae Lakes, giving the sky a light brown and hazy appearance. No one else seemed to notice the smell but me. I was worried...had the recent storms ignited a fire somewhere? Was the JMT in danger of closure? Would southbound hikers be forced to exit the trail? Was I the only one concerned?
I asked other hikers along the trail. No one even noticed the smell of wildfire. The ranger station at Rae Lakes was closed, although the ranger's uniforms including underwear were hanging in the back of the wooden cabin to dry. The ranger was on patrol somewhere and would be "back later."
Rae Lakes, it turned out, is a popular destination for those on three-to-five day backpacking trips. Two large church groups had already claimed some of the best real estate along the lakes by the time we arrived in mid-afternoon. I would call this area "congested" and "lacking privacy" although I could have sworn there was a group skinny-dipping to a small island in one lake and then racing back to shore.
We met the local ranger here, an older, tall, thin man with a ZZTop-like beard. He had just come down Glenn Pass. He wasn't interested in cheking our permits, and most of us had our bearvaults out so he didn't mess with that either. I asked him about any nearby wild fires.
"There's supposed to be a fire somewhere in the Sequioa National Forest, but they don't tell us much else!" he said, and walked on. So I was right, I did smell a fire and others around me were amazed I had gotten a whiff of that.
Leslie and the gals were camped across the trail from us. We took the afternoon off to do personal hygiene. I wanted to have clean clothes to look presentable once I exited the trail at Kearsage. The long nylon pants I had taken on this trip proved to be comfortable and useful, but the off-white color made them very fragile to any and all dirt.
But was I still going to exit at Kearsage now? My feelings kept wavering, from going all the way to Whitney to getting out at Kearsage. My mood since my water baptism kept changing, and today's energy level was down again. I enjoyed the time off to relax at the lakes and socialize.
My spot was on a bluff, the last (or first, depending on one's direction of travel)on the lake before climbing up Glenn Pass. I took a spot in the corner of the open area so others could pitch their tents near me; there was room for three more.
Leslie invited me to join them at 6pm, so I joined the gals for a nice dinner. More people came to Rae Lakes, including two younger men who I met later as Barry and Ryan. By 7pm three more people showed up, and one of them was Abid. It turned out that Leslie and the gals had met him, too and thought he was funny.
"ABID!" I yelled out. He recognized me right away, but he also recognized Leslie and the others. With him were John and Stacy, a young couple who were known to prepare gourmet meals at night (John claimed he was carrying 35 pounds of "wet foods" just to keep Stacy happy)
Slowly the campsite became a happy reunion site with hugs, laughter and lots of picture-taking. Abid loved the attention.
More later...
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