Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world
17 July 2010
"People Say the next nine miles are the most boring" said Darlene as we began our early morning ascent from Reds Meadow. We left our hotel room at 5:52am. Darlene was able to get her $30 from the two men who remained on the floor as we left. No other words were exchanged as we took off quietly.
The hike wasn't that boring at all. It just wasn't very scenic at the start. We started with a walk through the stables at Reds Meadow where horses were feasting on hay, then ascended uphill through a large burned area, now overcome with fragrant herbs. The canyon widened here but the views didn't become obvious for many miles.
Few people passed us. One was an elderly loquacious woman in a colorful blouse and straw hat who was hiking northbound with her llama. A Llama! Now that was different. I was expecting her to pass out some beers.
"I wanted to go all the way to Tuolumne Meadows but my husband is going to pick me up at Reds" she told us. Her husband is going to have a hard time getting that llama on that required shuttle bus!
Two people we never saw again were Max and Paul. They probably met some women they decided to spent time with. Or perhaps they took their time after a night of heavy partying? Otherwise we had a quiet stretch with few other hikers. The few we met were PCTers going north.
We stopped two hours later to eat breakfast, stopping near a rushing creek in a shaded area. This was a pretty water source but the mosquitoes were bad, but from here on the bugs never got any better. This time I had Al's left-over DEET, though. As much as I hate that stuff, it came in very handy all throughout the JMT.
Darlene wasn't feeling all too well today and asked for diarrhea medicine. I gave her the only two tablets I had in my first aid kit. Shit happens, and I was glad to help her out.
I missed Al's presence, though. Although he is a man of a few words, his presence was always calming to me. Sometimes I found myself looking back expecting to see him. The only good thing about him gone now though was being able to set camp early, and that we did at the Duck Lake outlet, a lush little stream cascading down off a nearby pass.
Two hours later clouds started forming, the first ones we had seen on this trip. "Do you think it's going to rain?" Darlene asked.
"Chances are fifty-fifty" I replied, and 45 minutes later, at 4:19pm, it began to storm violently. I huddled in my Big Agnes tent, watching rain trickle from all sides. What a nice way to find out the tent isn't very waterproof! I sat in that little tent and ate a cold portion of lasagna, not bothering to heat it up. I worried about Darlene in her bivy.
The storm lasted 90 minutes. At 5:30pm it suddenly stopped and we both crawled out of our tents. Darlene did not look happy. All her belongings were wet. Mine were partially damp.
"If this happens again I'm dropping out!" she told me. So soon? She had always impressed me as being a tough woman, and hearing those words sounded more like temporary insanity that a well thought-out decision.
The rest of the day remained wet and we stayed inside our covers as much as possible. No one crossed our trail today; perhapse everyone else used the storm to hunker down for the night.
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