#John Muir Trail Evolution Valley

[pcttrailsidereader]

Theodore Solomons – A Father of the JMT (Part 2)

Excerpted from Michael Hoberman, “Jews in the Wilderness”

This post follows the January 27 post that focused on the role that Theodore Solomons played in the shaping of the nation’s best-loved and most spectacular long-distance footpath, the John Muir Trail. The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: California (2011) includes Solomons own account of the origins of the JMT, “The Beginnings of the John Muir Trail.” This particular story talks about Solommons and Bonner and their naming and exploration of the Evolution Valley and Lakes and the pass that would eventually be named for John Muir.

What Theodore Solomons experienced and found in 1895, besides eventually yielding the information that enabled Joe LeConte to find Muir Pass in 1908, merits retelling and commemoration. Well ahead of the freak July snowstorm that drove them off the side of Mount Goddard, he and his companion had already become the first recorded Sierra travelers to enter an area that, in an expression of his enthusiasm for the scientific developments of the day, Solomons decided to call the Evolution Basin. Two days out from Jackass Meadows, they found themselves ascending a steep tributary gorge of the South Fork San Joaquin that, as Solomons would write in his trail report of 1896, contained more water than its narrow volume seemed capable of holding. “Swelled by the fast-melting snows of its high sources,” Solomons explained, “the stream hurled itself with torrential force over a series of falls and cascades the most striking and magnificent I have yet encountered in the Sierra.” At the top of the thousand-foot climb along the waterfalls lay a several-mile-long stretch of pristine and forest-fringed meadow whose beauty rivaled that of Yosemite’s famous Tuolumne Valley. Solomons called it “one of the fairest paradises of the nowhere unlovely western slope of the Sierra.” He marveled at the fact that its “difficulty of approach” had kept it from being overrun by the hundreds of thousands of grazing sheep that John Muir, a decade earlier, had famously referred to as “hoofed locusts.”

At the southeastern edge of what we now know as Evolution Meadow, Solomons and Bonner encountered and ascended another gorge. As he first described it in his 1896 report, Solomons referred to it generically as the Middle Fork of the San Joaquin; later, he named it Evolution Creek. As the two men continued to climb the gorge in a southeasterly direction, they saw a “peaked and pinnacled wall” to their immediate south whose looming elevation above them (they were already well above 10,000 feet) ranged between 1,500 and 3,000 feet. Those imposing summits, he wrote, deserved to be thought of as “beautiful monuments rather than mountain peaks.” In the days following his and Bonner’s failed attempt to surmount the Goddard Divide, Solomons named each of them after his scientific and scholarly heroes: Charles Darwin, Thomas Huxley, Herbert Spencer, Alfred Wallace, Ernst Haeckel, and the philosopher John Fiske. These men, as Solomons wrote in his 1940 retrospective (included in the 2011 Pacific Crest Trailside Reader: California), had been so “at-one in their devotion to the sublime in Nature” that only these massive rock towers could suffice to monumentalize their legacy.

I sat on my unsaddled bronco facing east and gazing in utter fascination at the most beautiful and the most mysterious sight I had ever seen.

At the base of these heights lay an additional, albeit less intimidating wonder. Hikers all up and down the John Muir Trail still speak of this “fine sheet of water,” as Solomons described it, in reverential tones, whether or not they have heard of the explorer who named it Evolution Lake. These days, every evening from late June to early September its northern end is dotted with multicolored tents. As many as two dozen backpackers bask on its rocky shore, hydrating their meals with water that they’ve fetched out of its frigid depth.

Solomons knew that Evolution Lake was a place of signal importance and also of contradictory implications. “Nowhere more generous is the recompense that awaits the wearied traveler” to its shores, he wrote, highlighting its refugelike qualities. At the same time, he also intuited a profound connection between its apparent isolation and the extreme density that characterized the population centers of his home state of California. “Such is the birthplace of the San Joaquin,” he wrote, “the origin of that river which turns a hundred mills, irrigates a million acres of grain, fruit, and vine, and which imparts fertility and beauty to the largest and richest of California’s valleys.”

Snow Tunnel, Enchanted Gorge, Sierra Nevada photographs / Taken by Theodore Seixas Solomons

At the end of the day on which they’d visited Evolution Lake, Solomons and Bonner camped at the foot of the peak that he’d just named Mount Huxley. They didn’t realize it at the time, but this particular campsite lay within 2 miles of the pass they were seeking. Indeed, as Solomons slept, he dreamed that his “task was fully done.”

Was he also imagining the backpackers who would eventually converge there? In his dream, “A well-marked trail led from the distant Yosemite past the long lake, up the snow-basin, and over the divide to the King’s River.” It was one thing to have been a teenager fantasizing from the lowland safety of his uncle’s pasture about an imaginary trail passing along the crest of the Sierras’ “flashing teeth.” It was another to picture the future trail at a moment when he was several days into a journey along the mountains’ spine, at such an enormous remove from the slightest reminder of civilization. Solomons “hope[d] that his dream was prophetic.” He knew that “the way was clear” and that “only the trail wait[ed] to be built.”

The snowstorm came the following day, as Solomons and Bonner climbed and then descended Mount Goddard in their attempt to locate the pass he’d just dreamed about. The gorge in which they sought and found shelter and warmth over the course of the next several days would prove to be a dead end of sorts, but few dead ends in the world can possibly have been so densely packed with scenic features. Traveling headlong down the south side of the mountain, they entered an area that remains trailless to this day. Solomons called it the Enchanted Gorge. In the words of a hiker who visited it in 1996, it still qualifies as “one of the most remote canyons in the Sierra Nevada.”

The Enchanted Gorge, as Solomons first described it, “was guarded by a nearly frozen lake, whose sheer ice-smoothed walls arose on either side, up and up, seemingly into the very sky, their crowns two sharp black peaks of most majestic form.” He called the peaks Scylla and Charybdis. After gingerly making their way around the edge of the lake, the travelers followed a snow-choked “road” through the gorge, descending “as though into the bowels of the earth,” all the while glancing upward at “black, glinting, [and] weird” walls whose 2,000-foot summits they could barely see. Solomons captured the otherworldliness of the gorge in the photographs he took while there. Two of his most striking images, “Rotunda in the Enchanted Gorge” and “Snow Tunnel in the Enchanted Gorge,” relay the beauty and desolation of the place in stark detail—the thick cover of snow, the jagged rocks, the indifferent sky, and nary a sign of vegetation even in the far distance, let alone of animal or human presence of any kind.

For all of its wonders, the journey into the Enchanted Gorge was not bringing them any closer to a crossing of the Goddard Divide, but they weren’t aware of that fact yet. On their southwestern trajectory out of the wilderness, Solomons and Bonner entered another deep valley formed by the Middle Fork of the Kings River called the Tehipite (fittingly, today’s Theodore Solomons Trail passes through that area). They exited the wilderness at Simpson Meadow on July 28, having logged 200 miles of hiking through places that very few, if any, other human beings, had ever seen.

The Rotunda, Enchanted Gorge, Sierra Nevada photographs / Taken by Theodore Seixas Solomons

In 1896 Solomons made two trips in the region north of the Goddard Divide. The second of the two, during which he successfully led an official Geological Survey party through the territory around mounts Lyell and Ritter and the Minarets that he had first visited and mapped in 1892, would prove to be his final outing in the Sierras for several decades to come, and also the last time he would be either making or following his own path through the mountains.

The most rugged phase of his mountaineering and exploration career lay behind him, however, and his active contributions to the development of the John Muir Trail had come to an end. In the deliberations that took place between its official commissioning in 1915 and the completion of its final portion in 1938, Solomons weighed in freely but commanded little authority.

Epilogue

John Muir’s reputation has come under renewed scrutiny owing to his alleged ties to a prominent eugenicist and his numerous disparaging comments regarding Chinese immigrants and American Indians. It is an appropriate time to revisit the mountains’ cultural significance and the trail’s namesake’s history. In 2018 a movement to rename the John Muir Trail the Nüümü Poyo, or “People’s Road,” arose among certain advocates for tribal rights who wished to draw attention to the Sierras’ Native American heritage. The Kern Kaweah chapter of the Sierra Club drafted a refutation of this proposal, albeit in as culturally sensitive a manner as they could muster. The report gave perfunctory attention to Solomons’ and other Sierra explorers’ roles in helping to create the trail in order to make its wider case in favor of honoring precedent. Why rename the trail, the authors of the report asked, when it was already, by definition, a memorial—“a human-constructed asset”—and not a natural feature like a mountain or a lake?

[stumbleimg]

7am Evolution Valley on the John Muir Trail, California [OC] [4032x3024]

[thehikingviking]

Mt Senger from Florence Lake, The First Sierra Hike of the Season

I had been fighting a cold over the past two weeks, and after taking the previous weekend off from hiking, I felt recovered enough to get back on the horse. I had my eyes on the Trinity Alps, but sadly could find no one who wanted to go with me. I was considering a solo trip until Rafee texted me with some ideas for western approach Sierra peaks. He mentioned Mt Senger, and I decided to join him since I was in the mood for some company. I previously thought this was more than a 30 mile effort, but that is maybe only the case when following the John Muir Trail to Sallie Keyes Lake. Secor documents a use trail, which when used would save some distance. A ferry also crosses Florence Lake, but it wouldn't start running for two more weeks, so we had no choice but to start for the northern shore of the lake. That was fine by us. Rafee would drive the morning of from his hotel in Fresno while I decided to drive in the night before and sleep at the trailhead. It was a long drive in from Shaver Lake. I arranged my sleep set up then walked out towards the lake where I meditated and watched the alpenglow. I could already feel the elevation even though I was only at 7,300 ft.

It was a rather chilly night, but I slept well enough. A mosquito had found its way into my car, and while I don’t think it managed to bite me in my sleep, the occasional buzz around my ear disturbed me from my tranquil state. I woke up before my alarm and got ready at a leisurely pace while I waited for Rafee. I invoked the luxury of turning on my car heater for warmth. Rafee pulled up next to me as I ate my breakfast, and we were on our way by 6:10am. From the day use parking lot, we passed a closed gate and followed a paved road for a short distance to the actual trailhead. The trail climbed up around the western lakeshore. Every foot of gain was all for naught as we would eventually descend back down to near lake level at the lake’s inlet. I spied Mt Darwin many miles up the canyon beyond Evolution Valley.

A lone bird flew overhead, but besides that the 4 mile walk to the other side of the lake was uneventful. The trail led us to a footbridge that crossed the mighty South Fork of the San Joaquin River.

The trail climbed away from the river and eventually met up with a dirt road. The trail and the two track would coalesce for the following few miles as they both made their way towards Muir Trail Ranch. We first passed Double Meadow, with Ward Mountain towering above us to the southeast.

In the other direction was The Tombstone, a rock feature on the way towards Chamberlain Peak and Mt Hooper.

Snow Plants were abundant in the forest following Double Meadow.

We then reached Blaney Meadows a short distance further.

Along the trail was a peculiar gate, possibly suggesting a history of grazing in the area.

North rock, a potential bonus peak, towered above us.

We were now on the lookout for the old use trail. We left the main trail as we neared Sallie Keyes Creek, prior to reaching the JMT and the MTR. We wandered somewhat aimlessly through the forest, but eventually found some large cairns and later a footpath.

We took our first break here to celebrate finding the old trail. We were already 8 miles in and hadn’t done much elevation gain. I guess there was only one way to see if my body would hold up.

The trail was very useful. It took us through sections of manzanita and simplified route finding so I could simply turn my brain off. Ward Mountain looked more impressive the higher we climbed.

The trail slowly got less and less obvious as we climbed higher, but it became less necessary as we entered a forest. We just made our way upwards, spotting a random cairn either here or there. We passed time talking about sports radio personalities. It was effective. We eventually met Sallie Keyes Creek at a wide open meadow near the outlet of the lake.

There were many large golden trout darting through the crystal clear water.

We found an old trail on the other side of the creek, and we followed this north as it paralleled the watercourse until we merged with the John Muir Trail. We reached Sallie Keyes Lakes moments later.

We somehow had completed most of the gain by now, and decided to keep our momentum by continuing up the peak. We followed the lakeshore then resumed climbing through a patch of trees towards the southern slopes of Mt Senger. We paused for a short time to observe a grouse sitting in a tree.

The climb evolved into a slog of sorts. I aimed for some large boulders to make things more fun, but I was having trouble maintaining my pace. At the 12,000 ft mark, I finally accepted that I was feeling the effects of altitude. It was a little embarrassing, but I suppose acceptable since this was my first Sierra hike of the year. I also was starting to get cold, so additional time was needed to take out my jacket and put on my gloves. Rafee ran off ahead to the summit while I labored up the final stretch. We encountered snow for the first time as we crossed the large summit plateau. The snow was consolidated and I was thankful that there were no hidden cornices along my path.

I joined Rafee at the top a couple minutes later. It took us 6 hours and 30 minutes to reach the summit, which was equivalent to Bob Burd and Mathew Holliman’s time. They admitted to feeling absolutely terrible that day, but I wasn’t feeling that much better with my altitude sickness and lingering cold.

To the northeast were Mt Hilgard, Mt Gabb, Seven Gables and Bear Creek Spire.

To the east were Mt Humphreys and Mt Emerson.

To the southeast were Charybdis and Mt Goddard.

To the south were the Kaweah Range and Mt Henry.

To the southwest was Three Sisters.

To the northwest was Mt Hooper.

RJ Secor was in the register, but I was simply disinterested in flipping through the pages. Usually I just write my name in the register, but Rafee inspired me to put my home town and a comment. I wasn’t feeling great so I didn’t have much to say.

The clear blue skies, outstanding views and a delicious homemade lunch made me feel a little better. I had barbecued tri tip a few nights ago, and was now able to consume all those protein and fat filled calories. Yum. For some reason Rafee was interested in some spot point on the topo map which we now call Peak 12068. I must have caught his interest when I suggested that there might be an obscure register on the summit, however I didn’t sincerely believe this. Anyways it seemed like an easy bonus peak so we began traversing west along the ridge. Some interesting clouds were forming to our southwest.

Even with my down puffy, I was really feeling cold and downright uncomfortable. Once at the saddle it was a quick task to reach the top, and we were rewarded with our first good views of Mt Senger.

Of course there was no summit register. There was however a better view of the Selden Pass area and Mt Hooper.

We returned back to the saddle where we spied a nice looking sand chute.

From here we made pretty quick work on our descent.

As we approached Sallie Keyes Lake, it sounded like people were shouting Rafee’s name. We thought it might be someone we knew, so we started yelling back, guessing who it might be. “AJ! Peter! Dully! Kirmse! Mihai!” Those people must have thought we were crazy. I don’t think it was anyone we knew.

We didn’t stick to the trail through the forest, finding it just as easy to traverse the forest floor in a cross country manner. We did follow the trail through the manzanita section, which proved very helpful.

Once back in the valley, we had a long 8 mile walk back to the cars. There was a lot of micro terrain that punished me. My throat had become agitated, and I most definitely regressed in terms of recovering from my cold. Doh!

I taught Rafee about nunataks as we approached Florence Lake.

We stopped at the footbridge for “dinner,” which basically consisted of the rest of the food in my pack. I strained over the last four miles back to the car, but I didn’t suffer too greatly. 

I moved just fast enough to keep the mosquitos at bay. The same bird from the morning was still flying overhead. I believe it was a white-tailed kite, but I guess we will never know for sure. After reaching the cars, we had a very long drive back to Shaver Lake. All the restaurants were closed, so we had to drive an hour further to Clovis to get food. Thankfully Five Guys was open and we chowed down as we recounted the day's efforts. In the end the hike was 24.5 miles with 6,600 ft of gain, which was the perfect amount for me.

[weatheredandshorn]

Day 13 on the JMT and we only hiked about 4 miles. We took what is often called a 'nero day' or a near zero day. These are days where you hike less than 5 miles or a couple hours. Especially on thru hikes, these days can be more and more welcome the longer you have been on the trail and are a phenomenal reminder of why you have put yourself out into nature. Having the majority of the day to gaze at the scenery and my navel, rather than only an hour or two, allowed my mind to slow down again. I felt relaxed, I moved slower, I was more silent. I was listening to the language without sound. The kind of language only mountains can speak. We took our time leaving McClure Meadow. I am the kind of hiker that prefers to have their pack mostly packed before breakfast, which meant that as the rest of camp was getting ready, I had a moment to sit and talk in one last look of the meadow. I love the silence of early mornings, especially early mornings in the mountains, and this morning seemed to me to be especially silent and reverent. Before long, my hiking companions had joined me to sit and watch and listen. Alas, we did end up on the trail and ultimately we ended at Evolution Lakes (the entire area we were hiking in was called Evolution Valley), around noon. As we set up camp again and eyed the lake to jump into it to wash off another hiker came up the valley. It was a form I recognized well, the form of our trail friend 'Lost and Found,' who we had been leapfrogging with since Red's Meadows. He was so named for 2 reasons, 1.) his propensity to lose things on the trail and therefore needing to backtrack to find them (he always found them), and 2.) because KT and I always seemed to lose him - sure we'd never see him again, only to run across him again a day or two later. We were always happy to find him. And so, our little trail family of me, KT, Shangrila, and Lost and Found was formed and would stay connected for the next couple of days. . . . #jmt #jmt2021 #johnmuir #johnmuirtrail #johnmuirwilderness #johnmuirtrail2021 #evolutionvalley #thruhike #thruhiking #hike #hikersofinstagram #hikemoreworryless #hikecalifornia #California #californiaadventure (at John Muir Wilderness) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTGDyr5plcW/?utm_medium=tumblr

[beyondlimitsonfoot]

The world’s big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.” ― John Muir

— What to Expect in This Post —

 Trail Talk – A little background of day-to-day plans and what might change it

 Day to Day Plan A – The plan if Yosemite Valley opens by our start date of August 8, 2018 (Ferguson Fire we may need to go to Plan B)

 Day to Day Plan B – The plan if our trailhead is not accessible

 Resupply Points – Just a quick excerpt on where we will be resupplying depending on our routes

 Other Day to Day Plans – These are some of the day-to-day plans I was reading about before picking out how we wanted to potentially do it – check them out!

 Locate Us – I have set this up for family and friends to follow along; you’ll be able to see us on a map and how we are doing.

 Guest Artist  – This is actually my sister and she has some products that are available to buy; reason I am adding this here is because she just did artwork of Yosemite. Check her out! @twintedinc on Instagram and Twinted Shop Page.

 Gear Picks – Some gear favorites that I’ll be taking on the trail

— Trail Talk ��

So we sent our resupply last week and I just tracked it this morning and the 5 gallon buckets were delivered to the P.O. Box at Florence Lake; this one is for our Muir Trail Ranch resupply. If you are just tuning in, this coming Wednesday August 8th I will be embarking on one of the biggest challenges I have ever done in the outdoors; I will be hiking the trail. I’ve set up a John Muir Trail Page for those of you who would like to follow the whole process.

A couple fires in the area, may put us in a bind and we will have to change our day-to-day plan so I’ve put together quick daily plans if we will be able to start in on the official Happy Isles (HI) Trailhead or have to start out of Tuolumne Meadows. Unfortunately due to the fire near Yosemite Valley, we probably will not be starting on our trailhead reserved.

What does this mean? This means all HI permits are cancelled. What do we do now? Well our plan is to go to Tuolumne Tuesday night and try for permits first thin Wednesday. It isn’t 100%, but the lady on the phone did say they have had no problems with shortage. We weren’t supposed to arrive to Tuolumne Meadows until Friday anyways, so we’ll just try again the next day if we need to. I guess we just have to leave it up to chance at this point; which I am ok with.

Let’s see if we stick to any of the plans below after we finish the trail!

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— Day to Day Plan A —

If Yosemite Valley does open we will stick to our original plan of going an average of 11.6 miles per day; of course there will be up and downs, but we have picked out spots that are around that mileage. I have a feeling we won’t stick to these as much depending on the terrain, how we feel, smoke (especially in the beginning of the trail) and the other things that can slow you down 🙂

Day Trail Junction or Landmark Total Miles Day Miles Elevation End Elev + Elev – 1 Happy Isles to Forsythe Trail Jct 8.7 8.7 8,150 4,115 0 2 Tuolumne Meadows Backpacker Camp * ^ 23.9 15.2 8,700 1,700 1,150 3 Lyell Headwaters 34.8 10.9 10,200 1,500 0 4 Ediza Lake Trail ^ ^ 47.6 12.8 9,050 1,450 2,600 5 Red’s Meadow * 57.3 9.7 7,600 850 2,350 6 Purple Lake 70.7 13.4 9,900 2,500 200 7 North Fork of Mono Creek ^ 83.5 12.8 8,900 2,200 3,200 8 Italy Pass Trail 95.5 12 9,250 2,700 2,300 9 Muir Trail Ranch * ^ 106.4 10.9 8,400 1,620 2,470 10 Colby Meadow 118.4 12 9,800 2,000 600 11 Helen Lake ^ 128.7 10.3 11,595 2,650 810 12 Deer Meadow 142.7 14 8,700 700 3,595 13 Bench Lake Trail ^ 156.2 13.5 11,000 4,380 2,080 14 South Fork Trail ^ 166.8 10.6 8,500 1,100 3,600 15 Bubbs Creek Trail ^ 180.1 13.3 9,600 3,480 2,380 16 Shepherd Pass Trail ^ 192.1 12 10,930 3,600 2,270 17 Guitar Lake 205.7 13.6 11,600 1,200 530 18 Mt. Whitney Summit/Outpost Camp 219 13.3 10,600 2,900 3,900 19 Whitney Portal (we may finish Saturday) 222.4 2.4 8,360 0 2,240

 * = Resupply

 ^ = Pass we need to climb

— Day to Day Plan B —

So worst case, Yosemite Valley is still close and we will begin out of Tuolumne Meadows. This was a last-minute put together plan that I for sure know we will butcher out there. I just tried to keep the mileage to where we can potentially have a little more time to ourselves here and there.

Day Trail Junction or Landmark Total Miles Day Miles Elevation End Elev + Elev – 1 Tuolumne Meadows to Lyell Headwaters 10.9 10.9 10,200 1,500 0 2 Garnet Lake ^ 20.8 9.9 9,680 1,450 1,970 3 Red’s Meadow * ^ 33.4 12.6 7,600 900 2,980 4 Duck Creek 44.4 11 10,100 2,500 0 5 Goodale Pass Trail 54.4 10 10,300 1,600 1,400 6 Bear Ridge ^ 67.2 12.8 9,950 2,850 3,200 7 Muir Trail Ranch * ^ 82.5 15.3 8,400 2,070 3,620 8 Evolution Meadow 91.5 9 9,200 1,400 600 9 Evolution Creek 101.6 10.1 10,400 1,650 450 10 LeConte Ranger Station ^ 111.1 9.5 8,700 1,555 3,255 11 Palisades Lakes 121.8 10.7 10,650 2,650 700 12 Lake Marjorie ^ 133.8 12 11,200 2,630 2,080 13 South Fork Trail ^ 142.9 9.1 8,500 900 3,600 14 Kearsarge Pass Trail ^ 154 11.1 10,800 3,480 1,180 15 Forester Pass ^ 163.2 9.2 13,200 3,600 1,200 16 Wallace Creek 175.2 12 10,400 0 2,800 17 Guitar Lake 181.8 6.6 11,600 1,200 0 18 Whitney Portal 198.5 16.7 8,360 2,900 6,140

* = Resupply

 ^ = Pass we need to climb

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— Resupply Points —

The following are the resupplies we will be doing for the trail. The only difference between Plan A and B is that we might start from Tuolumne Meadows, so no need for us to drop off the 3 day resupply there we’ll just pack that in our packs instead of the 2 day that was for Yosemite Valley to Tuolumne Meadows.

Resupply Point Distance miles from Happy Isles Distance off trail Distance miles from Whitney Portal Tuolumne Meadows Post Office 22 miles .75 miles 199 miles Red’s Meadow Resort 60 miles .5 miles 161 miles Vermillion Valley Resort 88 miles 5 miles 133 miles Muir Trail Ranch 111 miles 1.5 miles 111 miles

*Elizabeth Wenk’s John Muir Trail Book has all the resupply points available in case you need food or supplies earlier. We are writing some of these down, but it’s pretty easy to find these on the John Muir Trail Map Pack.

Tuolumne Meadows Post Office (3 day resupply)

Red’s Meadow Resort (4 day resupply)

Muir Trail Ranch (9-10 day resupply)

This Saturday before we leave, we will head up into Mammoth Lakes and spend a couple of days there relaxing. We will go ahead and drop off our Red’s Meadow Resort resupply that weekend. See more on my resupply plans on my last post: John Muir Trail: Resupply Time.

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— Other Day to Day Plans —

Before picking our day to days I read a lot about how people set theirs up; there is literally no right and wrong way. Do your own trail; so I’m pretty sure even though we have our goals written down, doesn’t mean we’ll follow it exactly. Here are some good reads on how other people did their mileage on the JMT.

 SoCalHiker: Itinerary for the John Muir Trail

 Trail to Peak: I’m Back from Hiking The John Muir Trail! See My 11 Favorite Photos!

 The Miles Tick Away: Fastpacking the John Muir Trail in 9 Days

 The Big Outside: Thru-Hiking the John Muir Trail in 7 Days: Amazing Experience, or Certifiably Insane?

 The Camp Kit: 17 Day JMT Itinerary

 Thehackneyhiker.com: My 19 day John Muir Trail itinerary

 Bearfoot Theory: John Muir Trail – My Hiking Plans

— Locate Us —

During our hike you may wonder how we are doing; well I’ve set up a page that you can locate us on a map and see where we are on the trail. We use the Garmin In Reach Explorer + that you can buy on either REI or Amazon.

Locate Us

— Guest Artist —

My sister and I have been working a new company (Twinted Inc.) that showcases her art that she then turns into a product all on her own. Her latest project has come just in time for when I start the journey on the John Muir Trail. In order Picture 1 is a photo we took years back in the winter time, Picture 2 is a photo of her pencil drawing, Picture 3 is the drawing put to life after her retracing it on the computer.

If you are interested in buying “yosemite down below” please let me know or click on Twinted Inc’s Shop and purchase your desired apparel. Please Contact Twinted if you would like to talk further on your own custom design.

— Gear Picks —

[ihewc_oxi id=”18″]

 Tent – Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL 3 Person Backpacking Tent: We’re going to test this out on the trail and let you know how we liked it. Two of us and it should fit all our gear; already liking how lightweight it is and the space! Also, put it up in our backyard last week and it was very easy to put up.

 Sleeping Bag – North Face Unisex Cat’s Meow: I’ve had this for over 5 years. The link is something similar to the one I have as it weighs just about 2.2 lbs. 20 degree bag should be enough for the John Muir Trail.

 Sleeping Pad Therm-a-Rest Z Lite Sol Ultralight Foam Backpacking Mattress– : Last couple of hikes we’ve been using this without the blow up and honestly it’s very comfortable. We’ll see after 19 days on the trail. You can also use it outside the tent while you are cooking or to lay on a rock outside the tent when you are resting.

 Pillow Sea To Summit Aeros Pillow Premium– : I swear by this pillow. Ever since I got it, I have used it on every trip even took it to Switzerland on one of our hut to hut trips.

— Check Out My John Muir Trail and Blog Updates —

— Check Out What’s in My Backpack —

— Check Out Some Grub Ideas for the Trail —

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Figuring out a Day to Day Plan for the John Muir Trail is more of a goal mileage plan for the trail. I'd be happy if we hit close to that mileage every day. Follow along on our journey here! The world's big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.”

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By Michael Lanza

Water makes up about 60 percent of our bodies—and, I suspect, 100 percent of our hearts. We crave it not only physically, for survival, but emotionally, for spiritual rejuvenation. We love playing in it for hours as children and we paddle and swim in it as adults. We’re drawn by the calming effects of sitting beside a stream or lake in a beautiful natural setting, an experience that possesses a certain je ne sais quoi—a quality difficult to describe, but that we can all feel in our heart.

I’ve come across quite a few wonderful backcountry lakes over the years. I’ve just updated and expanded this list of my favorites to give you some eye candy as well as ideas for future adventures—and perhaps compare against your list of favorite backcountry lakes. Click on the links to my stories in these brief writeups to learn more about each of these trips. If you know some good ones that are not on my list, please suggest them in the comments section below this story.

Here’s to your next peaceful moment beside a gorgeous lake deep in the mountains somewhere.

  Precipice Lake, Sequoia National Park.

Precipice Lake, Sequoia National Park

Precipice wasn’t even our intended campsite on the third day of a six-day, 40-mile family backpacking trip in Sequoia, in California’s southern High Sierra. We planned to push maybe a mile farther, to camp on the other side of 10,700-foot Kaweah Gap. But when we reached Precipice Lake at 10,400 feet, and saw its glassy, green and blue waters reflecting white and golden cliffs, and took a bracing swim, it wasn’t a hard sell when I suggested we spend the night there. It became one of my 25 all-time favorite backcountry campsites.

See my story about that trip, “Heavy Lifting: Backpacking Sequoia National Park,” and all of my stories about Sequoia National Park at The Big Outside.

  Want a better backpack? See my picks for “The 10 Best Backpacking Packs” and the best ultralight/thru-hiking packs.

  Alice Lake, Sawtooth Mountains, Idaho.

Alice Lake, Sawtooth Mountains

Idaho’s Sawtooths must be in contention for the title of American mountain range with the most beautiful lakes—maybe eclipsed only by the High Sierra and Wind River Range. Like the Sierra and Winds, backpacking in the Sawtooths brings you to the shores of multiple lakes every day, shimmering in sunlight, rippled by wind, or offering a mirror reflection of jagged peaks on calm mornings and evenings. Alice is one of the larger and prettier of them, a spot I’ve visited several times without getting tired of the view across it to a row of sharp-edged peaks.

See all of my stories about Idaho’s Sawtooth Mountains, including “Jewels of the Sawtooths: Backpacking to Alice, Hell Roaring, and Imogene Lakes,” “Photo Gallery: Mountain Lakes of Idaho’s Sawtooths,” and “Ask Me: What Are the Best Hikes in Idaho’s Sawtooths?”

  After the Sawtooths, hike the other nine of “My Top 10 Favorite Backpacking Trips.”

  Larch trees reflected in Rainbow Lake, North Cascades National Park Complex.

Rainbow Lake, North Cascades National Park Complex

After a relentless, seven-mile-long, 3,500-foot uphill slog to Rainbow Pass in the Lake Chelan National Recreation Area, a friend and I descended to a wonderful, wooded campsite on the shore of Rainbow Lake. We stuffed fistfuls of huckleberries into our mouths, then walked down to the lakeshore, where the setting sun was setting larch trees—their needles turned golden in late September—afire. It seemed a fitting final night of an 80-mile trek through the heart of the North Cascades National Park Complex.

See my story about that trip, “Primal Wild: Backpacking 80 Miles Through the North Cascades,” and all of my stories about the North Cascades.

  Hi, I’m Michael Lanza, creator of The Big Outside, which has made several top outdoors blog lists. Click here to sign up for my FREE email newsletter. Click here to learn how I can help you plan your next trip. Click here to get full access to all of my blog’s stories. Follow my adventures on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Youtube.

  Island Lake in Wyoming’s Wind River Range.

Island Lake, Wind River Range

As I mentioned above, few mountain ranges in America are as blessed with gorgeous backcountry lakes as Wyoming’s Winds. That makes it hard to pick out just one or two as favorites, but Island Lake deserves a shout out as much as any and more than most. Two friends and I hiked past it on a three-day, 41-mile loop from the Elkhart Park Trailhead to Titcomb Basin and over Knapsack Col in the Winds—and if we didn’t already have our hearts set on spending that night in Titcomb, we could have easily pitched our tents by Island for the night.

Read my feature story about that 41-mile hike, “Best of the Wind River Range: Backpacking to Titcomb Basin,” and check out all of my stories about the Winds at The Big Outside.

  On the John Muir Trail at Wanda Lake in Kings Canyon National Park.

Wanda Lake, John Muir Trail, Kings Canyon National Park

The seven-day thru-hike of the John Muir Trail that I made with some friends featured many unforgettable moments and a lifetime’s worth of stunning scenery—and aching feet—but few moments as quietly lovely as the early morning that we hiked along the shore of Wanda Lake. We were climbing toward 11,955-foot Muir Pass when we reached this uppermost lake in the Evolution Basin, a high valley scoured from granite by long-ago glaciers and studded with lakes. As my friend Todd walked along the lakeshore, I captured perhaps my best image from that entire trip.

See my story “Thru-Hiking the John Muir Trail in Seven Days: Amazing Experience, or Certifiably Insane?” See also all of my stories about the John Muir Trail and about outdoor adventures in California.

  I can help you plan the best backpacking, hiking, or family adventure of your life. Find out more here.

  Star Lake and Mount Madison, Presidential Range, N.H.

Star Lake, Presidential Range

A shallow, tiny tarn high in New Hampshire’s Presidential Range, nestled in the treeless saddle between two of the tallest mountains in the Northeast, 5,366-foot Mount Madison and 5,799-foot Mount Adams, Star Lake hardly merits the descriptor “lake.” But its frequently wind-rippled waters, studded with ancient, granite rocks, with the boulder heaps of Madison or Adams rising behind, will quickly make you forget your tired legs and feet. Reaching it during or at the end of a rugged hike will feel more like the culmination of a pilgrimage. Treat yourself to a night at the Appalachian Mountain Club’s Madison Spring Hut, a five-minute walk from Star Lake.

See my story “Big Hearts, Big Day: A 17-Mile Hike With Teens in the Presidential Range,” and all of my stories about New Hampshire’s Presidential Range and White Mountains.

  Sue Lake, Glacier National Park.

Sue Lake, Glacier National Park

Glacier National Park is known for majestic peaks that look like kitchen cutlery pointed at the sky, abundant megafauna like mountain goats, bighorn sheep, and grizzly bears—and, of course, its glaciers. But it also has some pretty darn nice lakes. I haven’t hit them all yet (working on that), but I have hiked to several, including the ledges overlooking this backcountry gem. Perched high above treeline, the view of ocean-blue Sue Lake floating in a sea of mountains is worthy of the short detour off the Highline Trail.

See my story “Descending the Food Chain: Backpacking Glacier National Park’s Northern Loop,” and all of my stories about Glacier National Park.

  Want to read any story linked here? Get full access to ALL stories at The Big Outside, plus a FREE e-guide. Subscribe now!

May Lake in Yosemite National Park.

May Lake, Yosemite National Park

A friend and I reached May Lake on the last afternoon of one of my top 10 best-ever backpacking trips, a weeklong, 151-mile tour of the most remote areas of Yosemite. We arrived as the sun dipped toward the western horizon, casting beautiful, low-angle light across the lake, which sits at the base of craggy, 10,845-foot Mount Hoffman. But you can visit May on an easy dayhike of 2.5 miles round-trip. Bonus: There’s a High Sierra Camp on May’s shore that’s a good base camp for hiking the area, including the steep jaunt up Hoffman, which has arguably the nicest summit view in Yosemite.

See more photos, a video, and trip-planning tips in my story about the 87-mile second leg of that 151-tour of Yosemite, “Best of Yosemite, Part 2: Backpacking Remote Northern Yosemite,” and my story about the 65-mile first leg of that adventure, “Best of Yosemite, Part 1: Backpacking South of Tuolumne Meadows,” plus my story “The 10 Best Dayhikes in Yosemite” (including May Lake and Mount Hoffmann), and all of my stories about Yosemite National Park and California national parks at The Big Outside.

  Plan your next great backpacking adventure in Yosemite and other flagship parks using my expert e-guides.

  Mirror Lake, Lakes Basin, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon.

Mirror Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness

Early on the clear and calm, third morning of a 40-mile family backpacking trip in Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness, I left our campsite and walked down to the shore of this lake, anticipating the scene I’d capture in pixels. Mirror Lake, in the popular Lakes Basin, earns its moniker, offering up a flawless reflection of its conifer- and granite-rimmed shore and the cliffs of 9,572-foot Eagle Cap Peak high above it. Our hike made a long loop through some less-visited areas of the wilderness, but you can reach Mirror Lake on weekend-length hikes, too.

See my story “Learning the Hard Way: Backpacking Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness,” and all of my stories about backpacking in Oregon at The Big Outside.

  I know dangerous. Read “Why I Endanger My Kids in the Wilderness (Even Though It Scares the Sh!t Out of Me).”

  Image Lake, Glacier Peak Wilderness, Washington.

Image Lake, Glacier Peak Wilderness

Deep in one of my favorite wild lands, Washington’s sprawling and magnificent Glacier Peak Wilderness, Image Lake (also shown in lead photo at top of story) fully compensates a backpacker for the considerable effort required to reach it. Conifer trees and grassy wildflower meadows ring this lake tucked into a bowl high up a mountainside, giving it the appearance of being perched at the edge of the earth, with the icy and snowy slopes of Glacier Peak as its backdrop. Reached on the third evening of a five-day, 44-mile family backpacking trip, it’s one of the most surreal and unforgettable scenes I’ve ever come upon.

See my story “Wild Heart of the Glacier Peak Wilderness: Backpacking the Spider Gap-Buck Creek Pass Loop.”

  Phelps Lake, Grand Teton National Park.

Phelps Lake, Grand Teton National Park

Not the first lake that comes to mind when you think of the Tetons—Lake Solitude, justifiably popular, is better known—Phelps nonetheless often delivers a glassy, upside-down picture of the densely green forest and cliffs across it, and you can sometimes see moose in early morning. The trail circling the lake is an easy, quiet, and pretty hike, and the campsites in the woods beside the lake are a great destination for an easy backpacking trip with young kids or a first night on a longer trek of a section of the Teton Crest Trail.

See my stories about a family backpacking trip in the Tetons, “Walking Familiar Ground: Reliving Old Memories and Making New Ones on the Teton Crest Trail” and “American Classic: Backpacking the Teton Crest Trail,” and all of my stories about the Teton Crest Trail and Grand Teton National Park, including my several Ask Me posts about the Tetons.

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  Imogene Lake, Sawtooth Mountains, Idaho.

Imogene Lake, Sawtooth Mountains

Imogene has broken my heart repeatedly—but not for disappointing scenery. I’ve just had to endure the heartbreak of hiking past it a few times without ever camping here. (It graces my list of the best backcountry campsites I’ve hiked past.) On a weekend backpacking trip with my daughter, we dayhiked from Hell Roaring Lake to Imogene, walking the trail that hugs one shore and scrambling out onto a finger of granite that juts into the lake. Like Alice Lake (above), it can be reached on a weekend backpacking trip or built into a longer trek in the Sawtooths.

See all of my stories about Idaho’s Sawtooth Mountains, including “Jewels of the Sawtooths: Backpacking to Alice, Hell Roaring, and Imogene Lakes,” “Photo Gallery: Mountain Lakes of Idaho’s Sawtooths,” and “Ask Me: What Are the Best Hikes in Idaho’s Sawtooths?”

  Campsite at Columbine Lake, Sequoia National Park.

Columbine Lake, Sequoia National Park

On the same 40-mile family backpacking trip in Sequoia when we spent a night at Precipice Lake (above), we slept our last night in the backcountry at Columbine Lake, at nearly 11,000 feet. Ringed by granite slabs, cliffs, and three pyramidal peaks, it’s another spot on my list of 25 all-time favorite backcountry campsites. My son and I slept that clear night under the stars, awakening at the same time during the night to gaze up at a sky riddled with sparkling points of light and bisected by the broad swath of the Milky Way—and we count more than a dozen shooting stars.

See my story about that trip, “Heavy Lifting: Backpacking Sequoia National Park,” and all of my stories about Sequoia National Park at The Big Outside.

  Don’t let red tape foil your plans. See my “10 Tips For Getting a Hard-to-Get National Park Backcountry Permit.”

  Ouzel Lake, in Wild Basin, Rocky Mountain National Park.

Ouzel Lake, Rocky Mountain National Park

Tucked into the ponderosa pine forest at around 10,000 feet, in the park’s Wild Basin area, Ouzel is reached on a moderate hike of less than five miles and 1,500 vertical from the Wild Basin Trailhead. Although it gets some dayhikers, you can have a protected campsite in the trees there all to yourself, as my family did on a three-day, early-September backpacking trip. My kids, then 10 and seven, played and fished for hours in the shallow waters near our camp and the lake’s outlet creek.

See my story “The 5 Rules About Kids I Broke While Backpacking in Rocky Mountain National Park.”

  Lonesome Lake, Cirque of the Towers, Wind River Range, Wyoming.

Lonesome Lake, Wind River Range

I’ll never forget the first time I hauled a heavy backpack stuffed with climbing gear on the steep trail over Jackass Pass, at nearly 10,800 feet, and caught my first glimpse of the soaring spires and pinnacles of the Cirque of the Towers, in Wyoming’s Wind River Range. I don’t think I’d seen anyplace like it before, and I’ve seen few since that compare to it. A popular spot—where black bears have reputedly learned to boulder V3 to reach stashed food bags—the Cirque’s prettiest spot is the shore of Lonesome Lake across from the sheer granite walls of 11,884-foot Pingora Peak.

See my story “A Walk in the Winds: Hiking a One-Day, 27-Mile Traverse of Wyoming’s Wind River Range.”

  Marie Lake on the John Muir Trail, John Muir Wilderness.

Marie Lake, John Muir Trail, John Muir Wilderness

Hiking southbound on the John Muir Trail toward 10,800-foot Selden Pass, our small group passed by Marie Lake—and immediately regretted that it was much too early in the day to stop there to camp. Any JMT thru-hiker could make a legitimate argument for Marie Lake as the most beautiful spot on “America’s most beautiful trail,” and many might agree. Studded with rocky islets and peninsulas jutting into its azure waters, Marie will capture your heart. If you trek the JMT, plan to spend a night there, so you don’t feel our disappointment.

See my story “Thru-Hiking the John Muir Trail in Seven Days: Amazing Experience, or Certifiably Insane?” and all of my stories about the John Muir Trail.

  Got a trip coming up? See my reviews of the best gear duffles and luggage and 7 favorite daypacks.

  Jerry Hapgood hiking to Lake Ellen Wilson, Glacier National Park.

Lake Ellen Wilson, Glacier National Park

I’d heard Lake Ellen Wilson was possibly the most scenic backcountry campsite in Glacier before I first visited there; but the moment a friend and I crested Gunsight Pass at 6,900 feet and got our first view down into the giant horseshoe of stone that holds the lake, I knew it would become one of my all-time favorite backcountry campsites. We soaked tired feet in the lake’s cold, emerald waters, a 20-second walk from our campsite, gazing up at 1,000-foot cliffs with several waterfalls pouring off of them. The sun-warmed beach pebbles felt like a heated bed with built-in massage.

See my story “Descending the Food Chain: Backpacking Glacier National Park’s Northern Loop,” and all of my stories about Glacier National Park.

  Benson Lake in Yosemite National Park.

Benson Lake, Yosemite National Park

A longtime backcountry ranger in Yosemite once told me that Benson was his favorite backcountry lake in the entire park—so how could I not check it out myself? On the 87-mile second leg of a 151-mile hike through the biggest blocks of wilderness in Yosemite, my friend Todd and I reached Benson’s sprawling, sandy beach early one evening, immediately shucked off our shoes, wriggled our toes in the sun-warmed sand, and then soaked our tired feet in the marvelously cool waters.

See more photos, a video, and trip-planning tips in my story about the 87-mile second leg of that 151-tour of Yosemite, “Best of Yosemite, Part 2: Backpacking Remote Northern Yosemite,” and my story about the 65-mile first leg of that adventure, “Best of Yosemite, Part 1: Backpacking South of Tuolumne Meadows,” plus my story “The 10 Best Dayhikes in Yosemite,” and all of my stories about Yosemite National Park at The Big Outside.

  Get the right shelter for your trips. See my “Gear Review: The 5 Best Backpacking Tents” and my expert tips in “How to Choose the Best Ultralight Backpacking Tent for You.”

  Rock Slide Lake, Sawtooth Mountains, Idaho.

Rock Slide Lake, Sawtooth Mountains

I really do have a lot of favorite lakes in the Sawtooths. But I’ve also spent enough time there to see many of them. A friend and I spent two nights at Rock Slide on a four-day, 57-mile hike in the more remote, southern end of the range, exploring lake-speckled valleys that birth the Middle Fork Boise River and a tributary of the South Fork Payette River. But Rock Slide Lake was this adventure’s highlight, repeatedly dishing up perfect reflections of the surrounding forest and cliffs and gorgeous sunset and sunrise light setting clouds ablaze.

See my stories “Going After Goals: Backpacking in Idaho’s Sawtooth Mountains” and “Photo Gallery: Mountain Lakes of Idaho’s Sawtooths.”

  You live for the outdoors. The Big Outside helps you get out there. Subscribe now and a get free e-guide!

Floe Lake, Rockwall Trail, Kootenay National Park, Canada.

Floe Lake, Kootenay National Park, Canadian Rockies

For my family’s first backpacking trip in the Canadian Rockies, we chose one of the best: the 34-mile (54k) Rockwall Trail in Kootenay National Park. A world-class trek, its defining feature is a single, massive limestone cliff, towering up to 3,000 feet above the trail—like a string of El Capitans lined up for miles. While highlights included one of the tallest waterfalls in the Canadian Rockies, Helmet Falls (estimated 1,154 feet, or 352m in height), sightings of mountain goats, climbing over three mountain passes, and up-close views of glaciers hanging off cliffs, one of the Rockwall’s special spots is the camping area on Floe Lake, where we spent our final night. I woke early the next morning to catch the lake reflecting a massive, crumbling cliff and its glaciers.

See my story “Best of the Canadian Rockies: Backpacking the Rockwall Trail,” at The Big Outside.

  Tell me what you think.

I spent a lot of time writing this story, so if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a share using one of the buttons below, and leave a comment or question at the bottom of this story. I’d really appreciate it.

  See all of my stories about backpacking, family adventures, and national park adventures at The Big Outside.  

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John Muir Trail - Big Places

Day 5 (9/14): Mt. Lyell from a crossing with the Lyell Fork, a mile before Donohue Pass, a scary milestone: the first big pass of the hike.

Day 5 (9/14): Thousand Island Lake (I didn’t count) near Emerald, Garnet, and Ruby, where I had my first excellent camp experience (thanks to Team Minnesota - Mary and Sammie).

Day 6 (9/15): Devil’s Postpile National Monument with the daytime moon making its presence, if shyly. Put my pack down in order to take the quick hike to see the top of these basalt columns. I made my way into Red’s Meadow (near Mammoth) that evening, where I met Peter and Laureanna from Milwaukee, cut my head open in the shower, and enjoyed my last quality time with Mary and Sammie.

Day 13 (9/22): My thirteenth day brought some lucky views from Evolution Lake, above the gorgeous Evolution Valley.

Day 14 (9/23): From the west end of Lower Palisade Lake - after conquering the Golden Staircase and before reuniting with Kat that evening and sharing a campsite with the Chocolatiers.

Day 17 (9/26): Mine and Kat’s morning view before leaving Middle Rae Lake and conquering Glen Pass.

Day 17 (9/26): The view from Glen Pass (11926′), the most challenging ascent of the trip for me, in part due to running out of water.

Day 18 (9/27): Forester Pass (13153′), the highest pass on the JMT, as well as the boundary between King’s Canyon and Sequoia National Parks. The view is evidence of the increasing barrenness of the landscape and ecosystem.

Day 19 (9/28): A mom and son hiking duo taking a break near Guitar Lake, prior to their evening ascent up to Whitney, where they stayed in the hut overnight and where we met them the next morning.

Day 20 (9/29): Melanie’s headlight marks her ascent up Whitney in the wee hours of our last day.

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Happy Isles in Yosemite National Park

Near the amazing hiking trails in Yosemite Valley is the designed-to-be-delightful Happy Isles Trail. The easy 3/4 of a mile walk at Happy Isles explores a pair of small islands in the Merced River at the east end of Yosemite Valley. While the trail doesn’t feature a show-stopping attraction (like Lower Yosemite Falls Trail), the Happy Isles live up to their name – a pleasant and happy place to walk along the river.

The level and easy hike through the Happy Isles begins from the Happy Isles Shuttle Stop. A kiosk by the shuttle stop provides a map of the Happy Isles as well as a quote from W.E. Dennison, the Guardian of Yosemite Valley from 1884 to 1887 who gave special attention to the small islands in the Merced River that you are about the explore:

I have named them the Happy Isles, for no one can visit them without for a while forgetting the grinding strife of his world to be happy.

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Happy Isles Shuttle Stop is also the start of John Muir Trail and hikes to Half Dome, and the Mist Trail to Nevada Fall and Vernal Fall. Hikers looking for the John Muir Trail head east from the shuttle stop and cross a bridge over the Merced River. To begin exploring the Happy Isles, head east initially as well (turning left as you face the kiosk at Happy Isles), but don’t cross the bridge with the road. Instead, turn up the trail heading up the river toward the Happy Isles. Make your way through the forest and south up a trail along the Merced River.

After 250 yards, come to a tiny building for the Happy Isles Stream Gage. In its window is a monitor displaying the current weather for this precise location. A panel explains that:

This gage station house holds equipment that measures, records, and transmits the height of the water surface (or stage) of the Merced River here at Happy Isles via a Geostationary Operational Environmental Satellite. All information is stored in the USGS National Water Information System database for public viewing. In addition, instruments for measuring weather conditions such as air temperature, precipitation, barometric pressure, and wind are installed in and on this building by the National Weather Service.

At this stream gage, a pressurized tube of air on the bottom of the river detects rises and falls in the level of the river, transmitting about 100 measurements per day.

After checking the weather, proceed another 50 yards up the trail to a junction (0.17 miles from the start). Straight ahead, the trail continues toward Happy Isles Nature Center and a rockfall exhibit. For now, turn left, following a sign for the Happy Isles. The trail crosses a bridge over part of the Merced River out to the first of two islands.

As you cross the bridge, gaze up and down the Merced River. If you’ve walked along the easy-going mellow river downstream (or floated by in a tube), you’ll find the Happy Isles stretch of the Merced to have a bit more of a downhill grade. The water tumbles over boulders, whispering hints about the waterfalls upriver. During the summer and fall, the river here is picturesque, tranquilly pouring over and around boulders. During the months of April and May, snowmelt typically causes the Merced River to swell and the river at Happy Isles rages with white water rapids.

The Merced River sweeps past the Happy Isles

Ease your way onto the first island, a glorious patch of forest wrapped by the river. Boulders line the water, providing shelter for hearty trees to take root. Come to a junction in the middle of the first island. Proceed to the right first, up to a point at the south end of the island, a quarter mile from the start of the hike. Pause here to look up and across the river.

Happy Isles Trail

Backtrack to the junction and take the other fork, which crosses a bridge to the second island. Below the bridge is a smaller slice of the river, where the water courses around smooth boulders. In the middle of the bridge, pass a plaque honoring Steven Tyng Mather, which reads:

He laid the foundation of the national park service, defining and establishing the policies under which its areas shall be developed and conserved unimpaired for future generations. There will never come an end to the good that he has done.

Mr. Mather campaigned for the creation of a National Park Service. When the NPS was created, he became its first director. Mather served for twelve formative years, expanding the number of national parks and monuments, while establishing a system for bringing new parks into the fold.

As a side note, Mather spent his early professional career working for Pacific Coast Borax Company, where he is credited with the labeling of “20 Mule Team Borax” – a name that still has significance in Death Valley today.

Happy Isles Trail

Across the bridge, venture up the second island in the center of the Merced River. Dogwood trees in this area look lovely during their spring blossom. Happy Isles Trail approaches the south end of the island and comes to an end at a viewpoint. Take in another perspective up the Merced and then backtrack down the trail. Make a right turn on the other island to get back to the off-river part of the trail.

The viewpoint at the end of the Happy Isles

Turn left to visit the nature center and the rockfall exhibit, fifty yards up this trail. The nature center had been used as a fish hatchery, starting in 1926, but was remodeled and converted into a nature center in the 1950s. The nature center is open during the summer with limited hours. The family-friendly nature center has interactive displays about wildlife and natural history.

Cliffs above the Merced River

Outside the nature center, you’ll find an exhibit with four panels describe Yosemite’s geological history and a major rock fall. In July of 1996, a section of granite about 200 yards across and three stories tall fell from the cliffs above Happy Isles. The rock had a long way to fall, accelerating to a blistering speed before smashing into the valley floor:

On that evening, about 68,000 tons of rock slid down the upper cliff above, then proceeded to free fall 1,800 feet (550 m), hitting the cliff base at about 270 mph (435 kph). During the night smaller sections fell, depositing a total of 80,000 tons of rock.

The shape of Yosemite Valley evolves through periodic rock falls:

Rockfall contributes to the ongoing evolution of Yosemite Valley. Over the past 150 years, approximately 400 events have been documented throughout the valley. Evidence of rockfall can ben seen in talus (piles of rock) at the base of cliffs and in the freshly exposed white granite of cliff walls.

Yosemite Valley was also shaped by glaciers, as a panel explains:

More than a million years ago, global cooling led to the build-up of enough snow and ice in the mountains to form glaciers. Like colossal rivers of ice, these glaciers flowed down the slope of the Sierra, following ancient stream channels, including the Merced River. During glacial activity that ended about a million years ago, a glacier filled this area to the rim and reshaped the stream-cut Yosemite Valley.

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Can you imagine Yosemite Valley during the glacier period, filled to the top of Half Dome by ice? When you’re ready to back away from the tall cliffs (probably as soon as you read about the rock fall), return down the trail. Pass through the junction by the bridge to get back to the trailhead shuttle stop.

The Happy Isles are a lovely place to wander and explore. If somehow you manage to become unhappy in Yosemite Valley, Happy Isles should lift your spirits. A bathroom is located next to the Happy Isles Shuttle Stop. The trail is partially paved and wheelchair friendly. Dogs and bikes are not allowed. Yosemite National Park charges an entrance fee, but no permit is needed to visit Happy Isles, so get out and enjoy!

A map of Happy Isles at the shuttle stop

To get to the trailhead: Make your way into Yosemite Valley, parking where available near Yosemite Village or Curry Village. Take the free park shuttle to the Happy Isles Shuttle Stop.

Trailhead address: Happy Isle Loop Road, Yosemite National Park, CA 95389 Trailhead coordinates: 37.7324, -119.5598 (37° 43′ 56.6″N 119° 33′ 35.3″W)

from hikespeak.com https://www.hikespeak.com/trails/happy-isles-hike-yosemite/

[jeffhester]

Backpacking the North/South Lake Loop in Six Days: An Overview http://bit.ly/2hfiX0N

Backpacking the North/South Lake Loop in Six Days: An Overview

For those who have backpacked the famous John Muir Trail, Evolution Valley is often mentioned as one of the most beautiful and memorable spots along the trail.  But is there a way to get to …

[pcttrailsidereader]

Photos from the Funk brothers 1975 thru-hike . . . “You’re are not the infamous Funk brothers, are you?”

After I wrote my March 29th post (http://pcttrailsidereader.com/post/172382169499/the-year-was-1981-it-was-our-last-night-of) about more than three decades on the PCT with my life-long friends, I thought about Gary Funk’s return to the PCT after thru-hiking with his brother in 1975.  I was not surprised that the emotion of his experience was heightened by the participation of so many of Gary’s family members. They supported and shared and, ultimately, embraced Gary’s love of the PCT.  Here is an abbreviated recounting of his second journey.

Three years ago, Gary Funk returned to the PCT forty years after Gary and his brother first walked the trail.  

As he began his second thru-hike, Gary observed, “It seems not a day passes by that I don’t think about the PCT. From that day forward I have carried with me the excitement and adventure of the hike which has shaped how I look at most things in life. The PCT was so long ago it seemed like it was from a different lifetime.  Now, I plan to return to see what has changed on the trail and what may still be the same.”

Gary was accompanied by his son-in-law, Jon Adams, for the duration of his 2015 hike.  They were periodically joined by other family members. His daughter section-hiked 345 miles with him. His wife, son, brother and his wife joined them for portions of the trail.

“To see all of my family and my brother’s family join in on this adventure brought an awareness of how great an impact the PCT has made on my life,” commented Gary.  “Hiking was introduced to the kids at an early age.  Watching them grasp the values of experiencing the wilderness over the years has been a highlight of my life.  I am privileged to be able to watch how the PCT is being passed on from one generation to the next, as this is now, literally unfolding before me on this hike.”

After 112 days Gary and Jon finally made it to the Oregon border. “It seemed like it took a long time and there were a lot of other hikers going faster than us, but maybe it wasn’t such a slow time when all things have been considered. Besides, we only see the faster hikers not the slower ones behind us. Nonetheless, the journey has been filled with many days of great experiences.”

Gary wondered whether this second hike would be able to compete with his first experience.  His conclusion was that it was a very different experience but that it was every bit the equal of the first hike.

“This hike has been more exhilarating than I thought it would be. It has been harder than I thought, where I have reached complete exhaustion, and then at times, it has been easier than I thought. I have jumped in lakes and streams. I have crossed rivers, one that rose 3 ft in 2 hours after a torrential rain. I watched an amazing helicopter landing by Search and Rescue and then participated in the rescue to help transport an injured hiker. I walked through meadows with slow flowing rivers and so many deer I thought I was in a Disney movie. I walked 37 miles alone and didn’t see a single person. I walked in a snow storm that lasted a week climbing over Forester Pass in near white out conditions that challenged my GPS skills to their fullest ability.  I was able to experience my favorite section of the John Muir Trail from Mather Pass to Evolution Valley, all with good weather.”

At Stevens Pass they were diverted due to the massive Blankenship fire which closed the PCT along Agnes Creek. Gary and Jon jumped ahead to Stehekin and completed the trail to the border before returning to finish the trail in the rain and snow of early September of that year . . . weather that made for lousy hiking and, more importantly, superb fire suppression.

Gary and Jon at the border

[hikinggurus12]

Evolution Valley on the John Muir Trail. I could never have imagined such a beautiful place. via https://t.co/QEMC0b3jpB #hiking

Evolution Valley on the John Muir Trail. I could never have imagined such a beautiful place. via https://t.co/QEMC0b3jpB #hiking

— Hiking Gurus (@hikinggurus1) October 7, 2017

from Twitter https://twitter.com/hikinggurus1 October 07, 2017 at 09:25AM via HikingGurus

[thehikingviking]

Mt Goddard, Mt Goethe & Mt Lamarck via Lamarck Col

When Asaka was pregnant, we agreed that I would be allowed a backpacking trip for every baby book I read. I read “Brain Rules for Baby” by John Medina and promptly reserved a four night permit in Kings Canyon National Park over the July 4th weekend. The rough plan would be to set a base camp at either Evolution Lake or Wanda Lake along the John Muir Trail via Lamarck Col from North Lake. The main objectives of the trip would be Mt Darwin and Mt Goddard, with an emphasis on the latter due to it’s extreme remoteness. I also planned routes on several other peaks so we would have the option for bonus peaks if energy and time permitted. I was lucky enough to find interest and get a commitment from Colin Gregory and Dave Dully, two JMT alumni and backpacking experts. I figured they were the perfect partners for the long haul towards Evolution Basin. I carpooled with Colin from the Bay Area and we met Dully in Bishop. We ate dinner then chose a campsite along Bishop Creek. The next morning we drove to North Lake where our adventure began.

While I had been to North Lake several times, this was my first time heading over Lamarck Col.

We conversed about mundane topics as we approached Lower Lamarck Lake.

While things were going okay for Dully and me, Colin wasn’t feeling so hot. I tried to walk him through a Wim Hof breathing exercise, but it was a poor effort which didn’t seem to help at all. We continued walking and seemingly out of nowhere, Colin began projectile vomiting all over the trail. It was both a magnificent and gross sight. I was speechless. I had never witnessed someone succumb to such terrible altitude sickness at such a low elevation. We were only at 10,600 ft, and we still had to go over Lamarck Col at almost 13,000 ft. It then dawned on me that our trip was in jeopardy, and there was a good chance we would have to head back down to the car. This was nothing new for Colin and Dully, however. Apparently Colin got really sick on the John Muir Trail, and he recovered while on the trail without having to descend. Colin seemed committed to continue, so we resumed hiking against my better judgement.

We continued moving, but at a much slower pace. My dreams of making it to Wanda Lake were fading, and I even started to wonder if we would make it down to the Darwin Lakes. There were too many unknown variables, so I just decided enjoy the scenery and hope for the best.

I have to give credit where credit is due. Colin was fighting some major demons, but he won small battle after small battle.

During one of our long rests, I noticed a lone figure with a recognizable gait. I said to the guys half jokingly that it looked like Iris, and I wouldn’t even be that surprised if it was really her. As she walked closer, I became more and more sure of my assumption, so I yelled out, “Who are you?” As she stopped to take out her ear earphones, I recognized how awkward of a question that was, so instead I asked if she was Iris, to which she replied yes. As we were catching up, another couple walked by and yelled out, “Are one of you Sean?” My brain slowly analyzed the question, and I realized yes indeed, my name is Sean! It turned out to be Chad Thomas and his fiance. I met Chad on Stuart Point in the desert the previous winter. Iris followed up by asking if he was Michael Graupe’s Chad, to which he replied, “I guess so. I mean I’ve hiked with him a few times.” What a small world these vast mountains truly are. Iris was on her way to Mt Lamarck, and Chad and his fiance were on their way to Darwin Bench, since Chad was chasing the remaining California 13ers he had yet to climb.

Iris asked Colin if he had any altitude sickness medication. Colin did, but said he hadn’t taken any. Iris quickly responded, “Well that’s not smart.” Direct, but true. Colin didn’t want to take it because he felt it was like taking a performance enhancement drug. While the basis of his reasoning may have had a slight bit of truth, there are no rules forbidding such recreational usage, so I allowed it without giving him too much grief.

He took the pill and over time things got better. Lamarck Col came into view. From there we would drop several thousand feet, so there was a good chance that we would be alright after all.

I had studied the col and came equipped with photographs, as I’ve read of people in the past missing it altogether. As we approached, there was an obvious boot track taking us right where we needed to go.

We were all relieved to finally reach the col, as this was a major milestone. We took a long rest here, and I most likely named every mountain within our viewshed.

After a healthy break, we started down the col towards Dawin Lakes. I studied the west ridge of Mt Darwin. There was some lingering snow still in the chute which gave me cause for concern. We came prepared with crampons and ice axes, but it still looked precarious.

I made the wise decision of following the use trail directly down to the first lake, while Colin and Dully took a more diagonal line over rougher terrain. On a map their route looked better, but in practice mine was faster and more efficient.

I beat them down to the lakes and followed the use trail to intercept their soon to be position. I expected a freeway along the side of the lake, but the use trail wasn’t nearly as good as I expected. I found myself talus hopping and scrambling between giant boulders. 

Once we regrouped, we assessed our situation. It was still early in the day, so we agreed to continue towards Evolution Lake.

We followed the outlet of Darwin Lakes to Darwin Bench. Mt Goddard and The Hermit came into view for the first time.

\

We then dropped several hundred feet towards the JMT. Once we reached the JMT, we followed this uphill towards Evolution Lake. I was getting tired, but we were now in the acceptable range of finding a base camp.

We reached Evolution Lake and the others voiced their intent to set up camp. I wanted to continue at least a mile further. I now had my eyes set on Mt McGee in addition to Mt Goddard, and I felt a base camp at Wanda Lake would be optimal. Colin and Dully were not sold on my proposal, so I tried to find a mid point that would make us all happy, but they would not budge. They were convinced that there were no campsites between the north end of Evolution Lake and Wanda Lake. I lost the vote 2-1, so I had to accept the outcome. At least I was done back packing for the day.

I set up camp and took a swim in the lake. My mind raced as always, overwhelmed with all the peaks in the nearby area. Tomorrow was very important, as it would be our Mt Goddard summit day, so I focused on the task at hand. We agreed to leave camp the next morning at 7am.

The next morning we finally broke camp at 7:45am. I was a little frustrated with the lake start, but we had a crystal clear forecast and plenty of daylight, so I decided to let it go. We followed the JMT around the eastern shore of the very long Evolution Lake, taking in views of Mt Spencer, Mt Huxley and The Hermit along the way.

On the south end of the lake we had a iconic river crossing. 

Mt Huxley stood above us as we approached Wanda Lake.

We reached Wanda Lake after 4 miles. Oh how much nicer it would have been to start from here instead, saving 8 total miles on summit day and possibly giving us the opportunity to climb Mt Huxley as a bonus peak. One of the guys made a comment suggesting that I should have found better hiking partners, which made me feel bad. It was my job as the group leader to push the group to their upmost limits and maximize our chances of success. At no point did I ever want to make anyone feel inadequate.

We took our first break on the other side of the outlet.

The remaining route to the summit would be all cross country. We planned to take Starr’s Route, so we aimed for the toe of the rib.

Down the valley were Davis Lakes and Mt McGee.

To reach the start of Starr’s Route, we had some steep snow to cross. The snow was soft so we didn’t need to use our crampons nor ice axes.

The route is advertised as class 2, but this rating is outdated. The route is definitely class 3, and the very first move on the rocks borders on class 4. This crux can be avoided by climbing up the talus scree on the west side of the rib before transitioning back onto the rib proper. We took on the challenge of the initial stiff move onto the route, and found it within our abilities and comfort levels.

The next couple hours consisted of class 2-3 climbing with moderate route finding.

The climb was mostly fun, but all of us were sucking wind. The altitude was definitely having an effect on our pace.

Just when it felt like our route was leading to vertical cliffs, a weakness in the rock wall appeared. 

The summit was now in sight, and all that remained was a talus slog.

We drudged our way up the barren slopes, stopping every few hundred feet or so to suck in the thin air. Reinhold Messner once said, “I am nothing more than a single, narrow, gasping lung, floating over the mists and the summits.”

After a toilsome effort, we finally made it to the summit.

After a short rest, we visited the lower west summit. The sky was clear all the way down to the San Joaquin Valley.

We then returned back to the true summit where we took our official summit rest.

To the northwest were Goddard Canyon and Mt McGee.

To the north were Mt Humphreys, Mt Mendel and Mt Darwin.

To the east were Mt Huxley, Mt Warlow, Mt Agassiz, Mt Winchell and North Palisade.

To the southeast were Mt Solomons, Black Giant and Charybdis.

To the south were Scylla, the Ionian Basin and the Enchanted Gorge.

There was sadly no writing utensil in the summit register, so I wrote my name in Taco Bell hot sauce. Hopefully future readers will think that I signed in my own blood.

It was getting a bit late in the afternoon, so while I wanted to remain atop the giant, we began our trek back down towards camp.

My contacts bothered me the whole descent. My contact solution had exploded in my pack, and my contacts were dirty. I had blurry vision the whole descent, which took away from the enjoyment of the hike.

Instead of following Starr’s Route all the way down, we bailed off the western side of the ridge and plunge stepped down the soft snow. Once it was safe, we glissaded a short distance down to the tongue of the snow.

What followed was a very tedious boulder hop over the small but not negligible saddle towards Wanda Lake and the JMT.

Once back at Wanda Lake, we took a dip and began our 4 mile march down gradual trail back to camp.

We spotted a healthy looking coyote along the way. I didn’t know they ventured to such high altitudes.

Shortly after a big herd of deer ran across our path. Colin and Dully said they saw more wildlife on this trip than over the span of their whole JMT trip.

It took us over 12 hours from camp to camp, which was much longer than I expected. There were fish jumping left and right, so I took whatever energy I had left and had a go at fishing. 

I had no luck. The fish here were too smart. At least I had first row seats to an amazing alpenglow.

I started brainstorming what peak we should do the following day. In retrospect, I overthought everything. I should have planned to do the west face of Mt Darwin, but I had better beta from the Darwin Glacier, and I somehow convinced myself it would be easier to move camp and climb Mt Darwin from the other side. This would also allow me to climb Mt Goethe as a side trip while moving camp. The mental gymnastics needed to justify such a plan was remarkable! I willingly gave up my hard earned base camp next to remote peaks in exchange for moving back to more accessible peaks. I could not see my error at the time. Alas, exhaustion, elevation and cognitive dissonance were getting the better of me.

The next morning, we broke down camp and began our move back towards Darwin Bench.

I somehow got ahead of the others, but I welcomed the solitude in such a peaceful and scenic byway.

I reached Darwin Bench and saw some fish jumping, so I decided to try my luck. I fought with the mosquitoes, but my perseverance paid off. After a few minutes of fishing I got a bite, and to my pleasant surprise, I caught my first Golden Trout.

I released the beauty and continued fishing. I caught my second golden as Colin and Dully arrived.

The fishing was good so Colin gave it a shot and had he caught some fish as well.

We packed up our gear and continued alongside the bench. Colin and Dully noticed a super light tent and began fawning over it. They told me this was the same tent that Chad had, so I put two and two together and realized it was probably Chad’s tent. I called out for him, but instead heard Chad’s fiance yell, “Chad not here!” Chad was out climbing peaks while his fiance rested by the bench. I can’t think of a more scenic place to hang out.

We continued upstream until around 11,500 ft where we dropped our heavy packs among some rocks. We continued north to two large unnamed lakes. Mt Goethe stood above the opposite shore.

It appeared shorter to go right and hike across the isthmus of the two large lakes, but we soon reached an impasse. A steep snow bank blocked the way. I did not want to encircle the lake, so I committed myself to finding a way across. I noticed a more favorable angle about a hundred feet above the waters edge, so up I climbed.

I led the way across the steep snow. At first the snow was soft enough to kick steps, but as I crossed, the snow became slightly harder and icier, making the crossing more difficult than I expected. This was the most dangerous part of the whole trip.

It took a lot of focus, but I eventually made it. Colin and Dully were not willing to give it a try, and opted to take the long route around the lake.

Looking back, I think we both had the wrong answer. If I had it over again, I would have looked more closely at taking off my shoes and walking across the shallow edge of the lake.

I refilled water at the isthmus and watched the two little dots make their way around the deceptively large lake.

Rather than wait for them, I thought it would be better to get a head start to make sure that the route would work. 

What remained was a nasty slope. My pace was slow, but my energy levels remained high.

I was surprised to find myself making distance between the others. Their self-assured mountaineering hubris had been somewhat shattered by the demanding efforts of trip. They began taking really long breaks, and I started to worry that they would bail altogether.

At this point, all I could do was worry about myself, so I pushed onward.

In due time I reached the top. To the northeast were Mt Humphreys and Mt Emerson.

To the east were Keyhole Plateau and Mt Lamarck.

To the south were Mt Darwin, Mt Mendel and Mt Goddard.

To the southwest were Emerald Peak and Evolution Valley.

To the northwest were Seven Gables and Southern Yosemite.

To the north were Goethe Lake and the Humphreys Basin.

I found a good place to lay down and wait for the others. They arrived 30 minutes later in seemingly good spirits.

We flipped through the summit register, finding humor in Daryn’s log.

Rather than return the way we came, we headed south from the summit, aiming for the western edge of Lake 11540.

Mt Goddard looked a long ways away.

We followed the ridge past a lingering snow bank and took sandy slopes down to the lake below. Somewhere along our descent, the others informed me of their desire to skip Mt Darwin the next day. I was disappointed, but felt like I could change their mind after a swim and a good rest at camp.

I got ahead of the others and found myself on some wet class 3. It wasn’t the best route, and thankfully the others didn’t follow me, choosing a much better class 2 route further right of my descent path.

I spotted the others on their better route and aimed to meet them at the shore of the lake. They had left some trekking poles along the shore and hoped to recover them.

What a scenic location! Mt Goddard spied us from a distance.

The conditions were too nice to pass up a swim. With a fish caught and a summit under my belt already, all I needed was a dunk to complete my second ever triple crown.

We dried off and continued our walk around the lake. We were surprised when a couple crossed our path, and even more surprised to discover it was Chad and his fiance. It was a pretty obscure and remote location, and they were equally surprised to see us. They were on their way to Keyhole Plateau. In an effort to bolster confidence in the others, I asked him to tell us about his experience on Darwin. This strategy somehow backfired, and he described a dangerous route where ropes were needed. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, considering every other person I asked about the peak said the class 5 rating was grossly exaggerated. Chad realized his mistake after the fact, and sent an email apologizing for his severe critique of the route. While his frightful experience was most likely due to him taking the wrong route, the damage was done, and there was now nothing I could do to convince the others. We said goodbye, and continued our way around the outlet of the lake back towards to our packs.

I spent the rest of the afternoon running through different scenarios in my head, but the decision was simple. I either had to climb Mt Darwin solo, or cut the trip short and head back with the others. We got back to our packs and continued towards the Darwin Lakes.

With a lot of daylight left, I wanted to camp at the easternmost lake, as this would make our final day easier, but the others found a couple nice spots that they didn’t want to pass up. I lost the vote once again, so we settled beneath the northern face of Mt Gould. It was a marmot paradise.

I have to admit that I was pretty tired myself. The longer I thought about it, the more I leaned towards cutting the trip short. I started to miss Asaka and Leif. The easy way out became more and more appealing. I decided to hike out with the others, so long as we could tag Mt Lamarck on the way out.

The next morning we began the dreaded march towards Lamarck Col. I spied some huge trout in the water below. I stopped to try my luck but didn’t get a bite.

I took my time up to the col. Every now and then I would look back enviously at Mt Darwin. We were so close to the peak and the FOMO was killing me inside. I began documenting several possible camp sites for a return trip. Perhaps I could even do it as a day hike during the Sierra Challenge the next month.

We reached the pass where I was able to get service for the first time in days. I sent a text to Asaka telling her I was alright.

We dropped our heavy packs and began up the ridgeline towards Lamarck Peak.

While this peak can be attained via a class 2 route just below the south side of the ridge, I felt inclined to challenge myself and take a more direct and challenging route.

I found a keyhole that got me through an impasse, and challenged the others to do the same.

Dully took my challenge head on and found an alternative way up the granite wall.

The next challenge was a boulder problem along the ridge. Dully again answered the call.

Where was all this enthusiasm earlier? We could have easily climbed Mt Darwin with this newly ascertained zeal. The final distance to the peak was an easy walk up, and we soon found ourselves on the summit. To the north was Mt Humphreys.

To the east were Upper Lamarck Lake and Owens Valley.

To the southeast were Cloudripper, Mt Agassiz, North Palisade and Split Mountain.

To the south were Mt Darwin and Mt Mendel.

To the west was the higher north peak. The others were interested in bagging this bonus peak as well, so we signed the summit register and continued on to the next objective.

The top was easily attained.

We had enough juice to go for the west summit, which was a sub peak but a fine objective.

Getting to the base of it was easy and we were rewarded with some fun class 4 scrambling.

Dully championed up the pitch and conquered the summit fin, while Colin felt the exposure was too rich for his blood.

We traversed from the west summit back to the col.

We stopped along the way to practice our scrambling. I was a little overconfident and inadvertently found myself on stiff class 4 and possibly even low class 5.

I almost bit off a little more than I could chew, so I very carefully made my way back down. Lesson learned, I suppose.

We shouldered our packs once more and began the short but steep hike down to North Lake.

I began having trouble on my descent and started to overheat. I was out of water and the nearest respite was Lower Lamarck Lake. I toiled down the sunny trail, a little bit concerned for my well being.

My death march ended with a nice swim at the outlook of Lower Lamarck Lake. Colin caught a fish, but I came up empty handed.

I was able to keep cool enough for the rest of the hike out. I enjoyed the green aspen leaves quaking in the breeze.

Once back at the car, we drove to the Whoa Nelly Deli for a well deserved meal. While I didn’t get every peak I wanted, I got the most important one in Mt Goddard. That peak deserves a “Tough Bastard” designation. I was now one step closer to completing the Sierra Emblem List.

[thatsnakeman]

7am Evolution Valley on the John Muir Trail, California [OC] [4032x3024] via /r/EarthPorn https://ift.tt/3avW5XH

[scarylittlefriends]

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I have just returned from the most incredible adventure that I will remember for the rest of my life. My father and I promised each other last year that we would do the John Muir Trail together, a 220-mile backpacking adventure through the heart of the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range that begins in Yosemite (Happy Isles) and ends at the highest peak in the lower 48 – Mt. Whitney (14,500 ft!)*.

We actually had to get our permits in January via lottery (got the best ones you could get!) and if you know anything about the winter we had in CA this year it was one for the record books. Snowfall was just as high as 2011 and probably the highest in at least 4 decades! There were massive avalanches all winter and the snow melt was tidal, making all of the river crossings higher and more dangerous than ever and blocking many of the set trails on high passes through mountains and low valleys alike. More people died than usual on the Pacific Crest Trail (an insane journey from Mexico to Canada) than most any other year in memory, mostly from being washed down raging rivers while trying to cross on logs or too rapid of currents. Many of the more sane PCT’ers had to alter their routes to wait for the snow to melt off so they could get through the most treacherous parts of the Sierras.

So in summary it was a difficult, dangerous year to go. My father is 68 years old (and still in great shape), so we were both on alert for any dangerous snow bridges (literally snow that forms a cave over a rushing river), post-holing (falling through soft snow near rocks) and slippery rocks on rapid creeks. Many of the rivers were raging beasts that could only be crossed by felled logs, which can sometimes be slippery! Any way, we were very careful, and just took our time on the sketchy creek crossings and high passes to make sure we were safe.

Another issue in the high Sierras during a wet year is mosquitoes, and they were absolutely voracious, so much so that people from the Midwest and South weren’t even prepared for the onslaught of these little vampires and DEET, Prokaratin, and pretty much running at full speed weren’t even enough to stop them! The only 100% effective method of stopping them was to wear a full net with face cover and sleeves, which is no fun to hike in during the hot afternoons, I can assure you.

In any case, the trail took us 3 weeks (23 days) to complete with two zero days of rest. The trip can roughly be divided into three main sections, which get progressively more intense as you continue:

Part 1:  The first week is mostly the Yosemite leg, which acts as a sort of boot camp. You’re staying at some large group camps with tons of other ‘packers and there are only a couple of minor passes you have to go through. Mostly you stay below 8,000 feet. It ends at the Red Meadow ‘Resort’, and I say resort loosely. That’s because you still have to camp, but you do get a shower, laundry, food resupply, and most importantly they have a kickass restaurant and awesome beer selection. Needless to say, this is where we spent an extra day recovering from the shock of being on the trail for a week (and resting our poor blistered feet). My sister and her boyfriend joined us for this part of the trip, and I have to say that Yosemite is one of the most incredible parts of the trail, as is Tuolomne Meadows and the Thousand Island Lakes.

During this time we were hit with horrible mosquitoes through Sunset Meadow and after Donahue Pass that rocked everyone’s world. It made it so that you really couldn’t enjoy the views for very long, lest you become a ‘skeeter buffet! Once we got to Thousand Island Lake we also got hit with thunderstorms on both sides and the lightning from this actually started a fire up near June Lake (about 12 miles away). We woke up the next morning to ashes all over our tents and the smell of campfire. Needless to say we got out of there quickly (having no way to know how bad/close the fire was) and hiked up out of the smokey valley to safety. Turned out everything was fine, but in the Sierras there is one rule:  Anything can and will happen, so be prepared!

Part 2:  This section should have been the easiest and most fun, as there is really only one pass worth noting (Silver), BUT a rare Monsoon decided to come up as we came off Silver and made it Lake Victoria. I remember the sun shining and people tanning and within twenty minutes of that a huge bolt of lightning hitting about a fifth of a mile away that you could feel through your body, followed by a hail storm and 3 days of rain! Obviously this is not normal for the Sierras this time of year, but it happened. We basically were soaked for 3 days straight, and it looked like our ferry ride to the Vermilion Valley Resort (VVR) across Lake Edison was going to be cancelled because of thunder. Luckily, the rain and thunder finally stopped as we reached the ferry stop and a quick call to the resort got us a late ferry ride to clean clothes, showers, food and beer. I wonder if they have ever seen a more grateful bunch of hikers before:)

The great part about the rain was that it brought hikers closer together. We teamed up with an ex-firefighter from Boise named Tom and a young couple from North Carolina named James and Jennifer. We united forces to cross the rivers which were extra-high as a result of the storms and pushed each other onward. They would become our friends along the trail, and we all made the final summit to Mt. Whitney on the same day. Once we all made it back to VVR there was plenty of time to hang out by the campfire and tell stories to one another while we recuperated.

Part 3:  This is simply the most amazing (and challenging) part of the journey. Part 2 pretty much ended as we left VVR and made the trek to Muir Trail Ranch (MTR) a couple of days later. This is a high-end resort that allows hikers to either pay to stay or just do a resupply of food. It is incredibly popular because there is no where else to resupply for the next 100 miles until the end of the trip, so everyone ends up coming here. Our friends Sam and his uncle Kurt ended up staying at MTR for a couple of days and it looked like they had a good time. They even shared their leftover steak with us, which was much-appreciated!

Once you leave MTR you are carrying about 45 lbs on your back, the most weight you will have the whole trip. You have to schlep that weight across 6 passes over 8 days as it slowly gets lighter. Of course, you can bring less food and fuel, but then you might go hungry on the final couple of days when you need that energy the most, so it’s a trade-off for most people.

My favorite part of the JMT (and pretty much all of the Sierras) has to be McClure Meadow all the way up through Evolution Lake. Dad and I did a trip there 3 years ago and it was the last time in my life I can remember being truly happy without a care in the world. We took our time coming up the steep trail from the meadow to the lake and it was a rough day, but when we got there I swear there were tears running down my face from how beautiful it was. For me, this was the moment that I realized how much all of the hard work I had done over the past year to become a better person had really paid off. I was overcome with joy when I realized how lucky I was to be alive and in good health again and happier than ever. I looked around the lake and saw all of the folks I had met on along the trail with huge smiles on their faces and realized I was truly home again. There is no amount of money I would not pay for that feeling!

It was around this time that I truly began to appreciate how much it meant to be doing this trip with my father, and how much I loved him and respected him for tackling the challenge of the JMT at 68.

Everyone I met on the trail loved my dad, not only because he is a charming southerner, but because he has years of wisdom from backpacking most of his life (and working at REI, too). So many people told me how inspiring it was to see him trucking down the trail at his age and how special it was that I got to do the JMT with my father. I think it really hit home when I spoke to a fellow Tennessean named Matt whom I had met coming up Muir Pass. He asked me if I was alone on the trail and I casually answered that, no, I had brought my dad along with me. He perked up when I said that and replied, “I’ve got my dad with me, too.” I looked around for a moment then noticed a change in his face as he looked down and patted his backpack with a tearful smile. He explained that he had just lost his father to a long illness and they had dreamed and talked about doing the JMT together throughout the past year, and it was his father’s dying wish to have his ashes released atop Mt. Whitney. I can’t tell you how grateful I was to hear that and how much more meaningful each moment of the trip became after that.

Coming down Muir Pass was the beginning of when things got tough. From there we had a one day break, then it was up Mather, Pinchot, Glen and Forester passes with only one more break before heading up to Whitney. We were averaging over 3,000 feet elevation and 3,000 feet of descent every day for over a week! Each pass had it’s particular quirks that made them difficult, but the toughest parts were most certainly where the snow had masked the paths and you had to free climb across talus or trek across a huge patch of slush either up or down to get through. Dad sure learned what happens when you don’t look out for the ducks and accidentally take the wrong route straight up a mountain!

In the end we huffed and puffed up all the passes and our knees and feet endured all of the huge descents. Along the way we saw some of the most wide-open and spectacular country in the world filled with rushing rivers and streams, colorful wildlife and wildflowers, and stark views of mountaintops, canyons, meadows valleys. Upon our return to civilization I realized how incredibly rare it is for anyone to experience what we did. It felt like we had found a huge treasure chest of wealth and beauty. All of the temptations and distractions offered by capitalism and the media felt flat and unfulfilling compared to the fresh air, cool wind, and clean water of the Mountain Life. Now that we have done the JMT it has inspired to explore the many less-populated routes to either side of the trail and explore the treasures that Sierras has to offer, free of charge:)

*You can actually do the JMT from South to North (Whitney–>Yosemite) or start at other locations along the way, we just did the most popular route because we could.

John Muir Trail (JMT) I have just returned from the most incredible adventure that I will remember for the rest of my life.

[hikerabrams]

JMT Day 11, Aug 1 2016; Kings Canyon, a new friend and Evolution!

Today was an outstanding day back on the trail. We had our last real meal of the trail as we had breakfast at MTR. My pack weighed in at 35 lbs with food and water. This is the heaviest my pack would be as we began our longest stretch without resupply at 6 days! In fact not all my food would fit in the bearcan. This days food was left out and it still took my body weight to force the lid on the canister. We left MTR with a lady named Pam and her 12 year old son. Interestingly enough, I had spoke to Pam on the phone several months prior as she was considering joining our resupply at Kearsage. As we were talking at MTR I realized this was the same lady I had spoken to. I can’t remember the boys name but he loved to fish. They stopped at every lake and creek they came across to fish. He showed me pics of every single fish he had caught. It was so awesome to meet a kid with that kind of enthusiasm for the outdoors! I told him how lucky he was to do an adventure like this at his age, and have a mother that would do it with him. One of the things I look most forward to in life is one day teaching children of mine the finer details of being in the wilderness. How to hike, camp, fish and hunt. I want to spread my love of the wild places to my children (that I don’t have yet). Their pace was a few days behind schedule and they were going to have to bail at Bishop pass in order for them to get back to Florida in time for the start of school. We hiked with them for a mile or so out of MTR before we pulled away. We soon came to a bridge crossing the San Joaquin river where another big transition happened. We left the John Muir Wilderness and entered Kings Canyon national park. There was a stark difference in landscape as the terrain became rockier and almost orange in color. We followed one of the forks of the river up a narrow canyon and came across the JMT rock. Just a few feet off the trail is a giant boulder along the side of the river with “John Muir Trail 1917” chiseled into it by the original trail workers. Unfortunately the lighting wasn’t very good so our pictures don’t depict it well. We had been steadily rising all day and eventually came to our second big creek crossing. This was Evolution Creek and it was much wider than Bear Creek, but again the flow this time of year was reduced. When we got to the creek we met a girl named Jenn who was changing her shoes preparing to cross. She mentioned she was going to have lunch on the other side while her feet dried. It sounded like a solid plan. We changed into our Creek shoes and began to cross at the same time as her. I noticed she had all her pack straps cinched, and I offered her advice. I said you might want to undo all those straps. If you go down you want to be able to get the pack off before it drowns you. I’m not sure what happened but we made it across well before she did. The crossing turned out to be quite tame, only knee deep and just a gravel bottom. We sat down for lunch on a fallen tree and started to eat our sandwiches and chips packed from MTR. An older gentleman crossed shortly behind us and sat down to eat as well. He was really struggling with his feet, so I gave him a half roll of athletic tape to help. I have never seen someone so thankful. It was like I had just saved his life. We then found out Jenn was also covered with blisters. We helped her out as well and Yukon gave her a pair of toe socks. We chatted for awhile and found out our schedules aligned for the next several days. We invited her to hike with us for the rest of the day. So on we went still climbing. We were heading to Evolution lake for the evening. We had heard from many NOBO hikers that the Evolution area had been their favorite stretch of the entire trail. So expectations were high. Somewhere along this stretch is where I earned my trail name. Yukon had been calling me a tank for awhile now. For several reasons. I had a bottomless appetite. I never slowed down on the climbs, I could just keep going. I had zero blisters. I was never whipped. My joints felt good. Nothing fazed me out there. So at some point going up the switch backs I stopped to take a pic and go to the bathroom. Jenn and Yukon kept climbing and had made it a ways up the trail ahead of me. Well I caught up rather quickly and Jenn exclaimed “you are a tank”. Yukon said “that’s it, that’s your name. But it can’t be tank, because that was the guys name in the movie. It’s got to be a kind of tank. Like Abrams. That’s it, Abrams.” So the rest of the trail I was known as Abrams. We kept climbing and eventually made it to Evolution lake. It was indeed gorgeous. We dropped packs and I started to look for a suitable place to set up 3 tents. We got in rather late in the evening due our late start and slow pace for the day. The lake had more tents set up than any place we had been prior to this. I looked like it would be difficult to find a spot. I started walking around and followed this narrow channel back around a rock. Then I looked over and saw like a 70 year old dude sitting naked in the water. He waved at me. WTF. I wasn’t camping there. I eventually found a spot for tents around the lake. I reported back to Jenn and Yukon. She decided to set up right where she was which was close to another couple she had been hiking with. So Yukon and I set our tents up and I had just enough time to go for a swim before the sun tucked behind the mountains. We walked back down to where naked man was to see the sunset. He was clothed now but I think he winked at me. Not really but I couldn’t get that gross image out of my head. Anyway naked man had the best camp at the place. Back this narrow finger of the lake, the earth dropped away into the valley 1000 ft below and the lake turned into a waterfall. And it was facing west right at the sunset. I will say this was probably the most magnificent sunset we saw the entire trip. Jenns friends were back there with a giant camera. I thought holy fuck I can’t believe you are carrying a 5 pound camera. But the quality of the pictures are probably worth it. We sat around and watched the sunset before heading back to our tents and making dinner for the evening. Day 11 stats: 14 miles, 3100 ft elevation gain.

[veteranoverland-blog]

Overlanding via rig or a backpack brings the greatest views 🙌🏼 📸: @granite80 , U.S. Army 🇺🇸 ・・・ Alpenglow in Upper Evolution Valley near Mount Darwin. John Muir Trail in late July 2016. ------------------------------------------ #veteranoverlandfamily #veteranoverland #vet #veteran #supportourtroops #served #veteranownedbusiness #getoutside #camp #camping #adventure #overland #explore #offroad #homeiswhereyouparkit #adventuremobile #army #marines #navy #airforce #coastguard #overland #🇺🇸