Bright descent from the ecstasy pass to the fight basin

JMT Novo Section 2: Onion Valley A Muir Trail Ranch, 88 miles (total = 154 miles of 255).

How and I meet as much as I can

Mount Williamson Motel washed our clothes while we went out of food trucks. I diligently applied the edge of my 3 -liter cnoc dirty water bag with Tenaz and Leuko. A repair that would last approximately one week. I applied the acquirer to the seam of my pillow that exploded in the heat in Guitar Lake. I trended in the sandwiches, of which I had not packed enough, of the hiker cubes and Scott’s partner, PAT, who was rescued due to the calf. Thanks, Pat, for his GORP and his excellent stew of sweet potatoes, which we found again in Muir Trail Ranch and Red’s Meadow!

We left Onion Valley about Kearsarge Pass, walking with Scott, who was heading, if the weather remained, about Glenn Pass to Rae Lakes. After the pass, the path embraced a long bank on Kearsarge and the Lagotula lakes. Each curve revealed another impressive view of water and rock. The clouds brushed the sky, undulating the peaks with shadow and light.

Jody and I decided that a pass up to date was enough. Especially with Glenn’s bestial reputation and Jody’s need for a bears after resupply. We said goodbye to Scott at the crossroads for Charlotte Lake, thinking that he would lose it forever.

Charlotte Lake was disappointing. There were a lot of shit, even at the exit. A large number of inexperienced hikers, who had spread the chaos in the bears box, held loudly the 8 pm (midnight of the hiker). My pillow kept air for some short minutes, so I put extra clothes in a sack. It rained again that night. We are glad to leave the next morning clear, wet tents and everything, before most people get up.

So many passes, so many lakes

Glenn Pass was up to his reputation. The rolling band was rocky, the long ascent and the further descent, almost 3500 feet, lasting most of the day. More than once we commented that Sobo seemed more difficult than Nobo. On the way down we stopped for lunch on the natural bridge between Rae Lakes. We dry our tents while we ate and took the brilliant Saphire under the peaks.

Tent drying, lakes RA

RAE Lakes

This was the pattern of days: follow the water trip. Sleep at the top of a drain under the last atrophied trees often close to a fall, the top -filled ridges full of clouds in the afternoon (and later smoke), then clear at night for the hair removal moon. Ascend early in the morning, stop in search of photos, cross a stream, climb to the last tarns, assume the curves skillfully cut through steep faces that seemed impassable. Reach the 12,000 -foot pass around 9 am with radical views (and sometimes greets), eat a snack while we talked with other hikers who went in each direction.

High ciries on each side of a 12,000 -foot pass where the thaw and runoff accumulate in lakes. The rocky, sterile lakes near the top, except lichen and some resistant wild flowers, spill into a stream that descends to more lakes studied with pines, lush sauce. The descent continues to approximately 8500 feet, where the runoff becomes a river and the trees form a high canopy above, its trunks too thick so that we can reach together. Then we climb again to more than 10,000 feet to organize the next pass. 3500 feet up and 3500 feet down through each drain.

Glenn Pass, Pinchot, Math, Muir. One a day, except that we decided that Math 24 miles required two days to get there. Beautiful drains carved by water that run on the slippery rock, gathering in basins full of trout. Woods Creek, South and Half forks of the Kings River, Lake Marjorie, Palisades Lakes, Helen and Wanda Lakes (named for Muir’s daughters) with Muir Hut in the middle. Saphire and Evolution Lakes. Water that flows west but never reaches the sea because it is diverted by agriculture in the central valley.

He had dreamed with Evolution Basin since I read about age 16. I made myself stop, to be able to swim in Evolution Lake. It was surprisingly beautiful. No one was in sight. A boy in me came to life, naked stripped, cane in a rock. A moment of the party. Then he turned the cold. The senior in which I have dragged its rigid limbs on the rock to dry in the sun, quickly dressed in the first sound of the voices.

Evolution lake

«The fire season has begun»

So read the sign for a two -day ranger station in the second stretch of our trip. The first smoke we experienced was distant, erasing the ridges just before Math. At first it was clear while we descended to the bank along the Palisades lakes and walked down the golden ladder, carefully protecting our knees. When we settled in the camp along Palisades Creek, the sun was orange and it seemed that it was establishing, although it was only 4:30 pm the thick smoke bordered the ridges.

West in Sequioa, Cedar Grove was on fire. That day we had somehow passed Scott again, and he caught us next to our camp. I was pressing to prepare for Muir Pass. I was trying to avoid that temptation. It is too easy to get to push when making a walk, and we had a lot of time. We wanted to stick to our 25 days, enjoy the path and avoid more expenses in the Yosemite Valley. So we camped in a waterfall, we swim and made laundry (away from the stream).

During the next few days, the smoke seemed to clear in the morning, then float to the high country in the afternoon. We listen to news from large fires that spread on the coast, in the central valley and some small fires at the mountain base. When we finally arrived at the camp for Muir Trail Ranch (MTR) on the afternoon of our day 15, the smoke was a misto posted on us that you could feel in your lungs.

MTR rejuvenates, but the weight of our packages does not

We left our replenishment cube for the morning, we established our electronic load and annoyed ourselves in the San Joaquín River in search of the hottest of the hot springs. A small pool, but was incredibly relaxing.

The next morning, we collect our only bucket to share. We had read many complaints about MTR online, which was not friendly for hikers, but we found more than enough. There was no restaurant, but we didn’t expect one. There was a free camp, cargo station, large hikers of hikers, drinking water with a sign in a dozen languages, a handwashing station, fuel and k-tape to buy. Everything we really need. I retouched my CNOC water bag, waiting for the same result as the last time. We only had 4 days of food each (Red’s Meadow was only 48 miles away) but forged by double the hiker boxes. In fact, we move forward to our heaviest weight on the trip.

Not everything right

We left MTR on a work day somewhat smoked with two thirds of our completed trip. (MTR is the official intermediate point of the JMT, but if Cottonwood Pass adds, Whitney’s descent to Crabtree Meadows, and the walk to Onion Valley, ends up doing 255 miles instead of the 210 officers). We have almost enough food to take us to happy halls. The plan was to complement in Red’s and Tuolumne Meadows.

I never fixed my pillow. The second tape work in my CNOC failed immediately. And I had mistakenly identified the white dust container in my refueling.

We had crossed the highest passes. However, the last third of the JMT would be more challenging for me.