Mt Whitney Trail Camp at sunset — 12,000 feet

John Muir Trail — An Homage in Photos

Every single day on John Muir Trail is like walking through a fairytale full of challenges, realizations, epiphanies, and sensory bliss.

The following is a compilation of the best daily photos I managed to take while hiking the trail, with a brief, one-two sentence reminiscence about each day and scene — my homage, of sorts, to the amazing trail.

There’s been lots written online and in books about the trail. And while I may have a few unique points to add, I decided to limit the prose and instead, create a chronological, somewhat continuous sequence of landscape photographs that captures my impression of the trail, helps me relive the 15-day walk whenever I’m wilderness-starved, and incites me (or others) into doing this or other hikes again. As the number of these photos grew, I also decided to separate the more personal, daily photo outtakes into a separate, similarly-structured post (with much more laconic descriptions): John Muir Trail — Personal Outtakes.

Muir Pass (center) on John Muir Trail — You can see how the trail glides through the valleys, crossing an occasional mountain pass (topographic map by Google)

Despite being some 211 strenuous miles long, passing through contiguous, uninterrupted wilderness, John Muir Trail is very well-marked and travelled, to the point of requiring no map or compass to traverse it (ill-advised). So, while it’s important to prepare for its chilly nights and sparse resupply points, the key mental note I took while on the trail is that with basic, common-sense fitness and gear preparations, and with trust in body’s ability to naturally adopt and muster deeper physical and mental strengths while under stress during the hike, the trail is very feasible for a great majority of people of wide ranging ages and physical fitness, albeit at different paces. And in my mind, self-guided over/under/mis-preparations are just as integral a part of the experience as the actual hike itself. Any oversight in preparations will preserve that priceless uncertainty during the hike, making it a very personal, unique experience full of struggles, realizations, decisions, and epiphanies to share with friends and family. Hence, I’m leaving out gear lists, dos and don’ts, lessons learned and other such serendipity-killing, mostly personal know-hows (unless asked about). JMT is a great trail to play on, with plenty of fellow hikers to the rescue!

Day 1: Whitney Portal — 12,000 feet

NOT GOING ANYWHERE — JMT — Day 1: It’s hard to pass by and not gawk at these fascinating trees stuck in time, gazing at the Whitney Portal view, greeting fresh batches of hikers and saying goodbyes to the ones departing forever. This Foxtail Pine has quite an outfit.

WRONG WAY DOWN — JMT — Day 1: Day-hikers returning from their Mt. Whitney summit. First signs that the decision to hike northbound is wise — all upcoming days will be dotted by momentary, pleasant run-ins with countless southbound hikers.

LOOK AT ME — JMT — Day 1: Impossible to just pass these amazing tree remnants on the way to Mt Whitney trail camp. Yet, it would be impossible to make any progress if I don’t move on — there are so many of them and each has a story to tell.

MISLEADING TRAILS — JMT — Day 1: Misleadingly easy, paved stretches of the trail on the way to Mt Whitney trail camp.

WATCHING THE LION KING — JMT — Day 1: Watching a german couple re-enact the cliff-top Lion King scene. These hikers passed me at least four times while ascending the steep Mt Whitney Trail. They’d take a leisurely lunch break, soak-in the scenery, allowing me to pass them, only to overtake me again a few minutes later, all-smiles. Even though I started off the trail by passing a RUNNER practicing his altitude running (with me carrying some 50 lbl backpack and him —only a camelback), by this point, short of breath, I cannot walk for longer than a couple hundred yards at a time. Thankfully, Mt Whitney trail camp is only couple of miles away.

MOMENT OF CALM — JMT — Day 1: Trail camp pond at 12K feet on approach to Mt Whitney. The mount at the center is probably Mt Muir, and Mt Whitney is hiding much further to the right. After taking an unscheduled nap in my freshly-pitched tent, I nurse a freezing day-hiker to warmth with my hot tea. He’s been freezing his bones, sitting on rocks, waiting for his companions to descend from the summit. My tentative plan was to hike to the summit on day one, but reality has settled in, and I’m just enjoying the bustling camp while I slurp my ramen. Someone’s sleeping in a bivy sack next to his german shepard — somewhat incongruous to me at first, but may be the best combination once I think it over.

Day 2: Mt Whitney — 14,505 feet

FALSE WARMTH — JMT — Day 2: Sunrise on approach to Mt Whitney summit. Instead of starting at 2am to catch the sunrise at the very top, I leave the trail camp with the 4am crew of underachievers and catch the sunrise at trail crest (13600 feet), with some 900 feet of ascent remaining. The infamous 99 switchbacks are below me — headlight and lots of candy are a must.

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY — JMT — Day 2: Passing by the “windows” on the last 900 feet of ascent to the summit — it’s amazing how rapidly the light is changing. After scrambling up the endless switchbacks with full backpack from trail camp to the JMT fork, climbing the last couple of miles to the summit packless is a breathless bliss. JMT officially starts at the Mt Whitney summit, so, technically, all those Whitney Portal struggles don’t count.

HIGHEST BEGINNING — JMT — Day 2: At the top of Mt Whitney — the top of lower US. Whitney Portal and the road leading to it from Lone Pines (town with unlimited burgers, ice-cream, and milk shakes) are in the far center. Iceberg lake is just beneath. The trail heads in the opposite direction, towards a warm-looking valley with snow-melt lakes and sparse woods. This is the official starting point of the John Muir Trail.

ESCAPING SUNRISE — JMT — Day 2: Overshadowed sunrise on the western side of the Mt Whitney trail crest. You can gauge the size of the mount by the size of the shadow it casts. Junction of the JMT and Mt Whitney trails is just around the corner. Since John Muir Trail officially starts at the top of Mt Whitney, despite the exhaustion, cold and thin air, before going down and off to the beautiful lakes and warm valley, I have to make my way to the top. Fortunately, everyone leaves their backpacks at the junction and stumbles lightweight, half-asleep to the top. The lakes, including Guitar Lake on the right, and the meadows in the far woods are where my hiking is taking me today.

GUITAR THEATRE — JMT — Day 2: Great close-up view of the Guitar Lake from the embrace of a warm, green meadow. This is also the first time I lose the trail walking through a wide-open, rocky area, where everything and nothing seems like a path. Checking preloaded Google Maps of the trail on my phone, I’m quickly able to get back onto the now — of course — obvious path. Having climbed down the strenuous Mt Whitney, suddenly, the rest of the trail seems ever so doable (thought which I’ll come to question and doubt almost daily, whenever ascending yet another inhumane pass).

THROUGH HIKER’S FUEL — JMT — Day 2: Picturesque meadows I’ve seen only in photos are beginning to emerge in front of my eyes. They are numerous but short and sparse stretches of the trail that make me forget a torturous hill or mountain pass I’ve just climbed and give me just enough fuel to get to the next one.

FLATLANDS COVER — JMT — Day 2: Finally, a couple of miles of flatlands. This is my exact camping spot for the night. Views on all but one side are just as breathtaking as this one. Camping so close to a mountain lake at 10K feet is ill-advised. By the morning, water is slowly sipping from beneath and frost is covering the tent. After an utterly exhausting day of climbing the summit and bouncing over endless hills, after seeing these ominous-looking clouds roll in, for the first and only time I thought, “If it rains, I may have to abandon this nonsense.” By the morning, the inner and outer clouds are totally gone.

Day 3: Forester Pass — 13,153 feet

MARSCAPE — JMT — Day 3: First glance at the morning. All ominous clouds are gone. Exhaustion abated — human body is a vessel full of hidden compartments of untapped grit and energy. The sun is above the mountains and the sky is crystal clear. I already see some early hikers pass by, while I’m tormenting myself about washing up in this ice-cold pond. I hope Mars landscape looks something like this when I get there.

HIKER’S TEARS — JMT — Day 3: Amazing aqua, melt-water lakes on approach to the first mountain pass — Forester Pass. I shall later learn the hard way that these mountain lakes and ponds are largely filled with hikers’ tears, weeping as they both, ascend and descend the arduous passes.

NATURE’S VELODROME — JMT — Day 3: Looking back towards Mt Whitney from the Forester Pass. This is one of the moments when after two days of hiking, for the first time, I feel I can definitely complete the whole track.

TAKE THE PLUNGE — JMT — Day 3: First glance at what’s awaiting me in the afternoon, after crossing the Forester Pass. This routine of climbing a pass in the morning, taking-in amazing views from the top around noon, and leisurely ambling down the pass in the afternoon and exploring the valley with its warm and fragrant meadows, woods, streams, and hills will become a daily ritual for most of my trail days. I’m amazed to run into quite a number of hikers in their 50s and 60s, both men and women.

INSIDE THE DRAGON’S DEN — JMT — Day 3: Looking back at the highest pass on the trail — Forester Pass (second highest counting Mt Whitney). Despite having conquered this pass, I don’t feel any of the future ones turn out to be easy — run from anyone who claims it’s so.

BABY POOL — JMT — Day 3: Descending the Forester Pass, looking forward to the warm woods below and happy clouds above. Two seasoned cross-hikers at the top of the pass told me this was the hardest one, out of the total of around ten. What a cruel lie!

LITTLE SHANGRI-LA — JMT — Day 3: Off the Forester Pass and in the womb of its warm valley — my little shangri-la. Wow. I’m hoping I’ll learn the skill of timing my camping spots better by the end of this hike — just passing this one by.

BYE-BYE FORESTER — JMT — Day 3: First greens in the valley below the Forester Pass. Just three days on the trail, but I’m constantly holding myself back from getting off the trail and exploring up-close the surrounding meadow and mountains. The only thing that’s keeping me away is the promise to myself to return.

CAN DO THIS — JMT — Day 3: Having had some concerns last night, yet having crossed the two highest passes so far (Whitney and Forester), I’m starting to feel more and more confident about this walk. Running into many curious characters while going northbound is also cheering me on. Landscape is slowly becoming more varied and moderate: windy, chilly mountain passes sprinkled with warm and quiet woods and meadows.

Day 4: Glen Pass — 11,926 feet

HIKER’S SCARS — JMT — Day 4: After being awoken by a family of deer, whose breakfast meadow I’ve occupied for the night, it’s time to cross the Glen Pass. Somehow, the little river-like mountain lakes remind me of my evening and morning muscle aches. I’m about to descend into what shall be one of my most favorite inter-pass valleys — the Rae Lakes.

MOUNTAIN TRAIN — JMT — Day 4: Traversing turquoise Rae Lakes after an exhausting Glen Pass — one of the two most beautiful lakes along the whole trail, with the path winding along the shore and in-between the lakes. As always, the water looks misleadingly inviting, but turns out to be deathly cold. Fishing must be amazing in these mountain lakes, but alas, the imaginary timeline and very real exhaustion are pushing me on (even though I’m carrying a telescoping fishing pole).

ESCAPE RIDGE — JMT — Day 4: It was hypnotizing to watch this yellow bird fly over the Glen Pass, hover above the Rae Lakes while I was still traversing them, and finally, land just ahead of me, where I’m bound to pass, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. An unexpected and totally welcome piece of the modern world inside one of the remotest back countries. They are the official EMS service for the surrounding national parks, landed at what must be the most scenic park ranger station in the country.

FLIGHT OF THE YELLOW BIRD — JMT — Day 4: NPS Search & Rescue team makes a graceful escape in their Eurocopter after being ambushed for over an hour by socially-starved hikers, surrounded by the spectacular Rae Lakes, Fin Dome, and Glen Pass. If you’re ever in trouble in a national park, call-up their search & rescue to be airlifted — it’s part of the National Park Service budget. Do NOT call if your water tastes funny or you’re suddenly in mood for a burger or your pet lama is feeling sick.

BIG BIRD POND — JMT — Day 4: After spending an hour chatting with emergency helicopter crew, park ranger, and other hikers, I’m off into the endless kingdom of little ponds and streams. Can you see an outline of a big bird being traced by the stream-pond? It’s always so tempting to just set camp right here and call it a day, but somehow the sun is always still too high at the most scenic of spots, and there are still “miles to go before I sleep…”

HAPPY STREAMS — JMT — Day 4: Looking back at the Fin Dome while crossing yet another perfect stream. After months of being glued to a computer screen since the last proper break, every day on the trail feels novel, otherworldly and almost transcendental. Yet, in some way, these scenes and smells and feelings are not totally new to me: they all remind me of my boyhood and teenage summers in the countryside.

THROUGH FAIRYTALE — JMT — Day 4: Winding down an exciting day of exploring around the Rae Lakes. The texture and smell of these juniper trees are just what it looks like: warm, soft, linen-like woven threads smelling of dry evergreen resin.

Day 5: Pinchot Pass — 12,042 feet

WHERE THE WILD STREAMS ARE — JMT — Day 5: Slow, lazy, pleasant climb into the Pinchot Pass, after relaxing in the Rae Lakes valley, accompanied by the seemingly counter-flowing wild streams. I later run into park service workers and volunteers building and maintaining some of these more rugged paths: they live and look just like some of the most hardcore hikers I run into on the trail.

TO FORGE AHEAD — JMT — Day 5: On-approach to the Pinchot Pass, after a night at the Woods Creek suspension bridge. Every time I see a colorful peak like this, with streams running all around it, I get an urge to go and climb it. Though I’m saving these urges for the next time, otherwise I’m never to get out of here. I’ve been hoping this to be a 2-pass day: Pinchot Pass and then Mather Pass, since they seem so close together (ahh, not so easy as I’m to find out).

TRANQUIL 33 — JMT — Day 5: One of the most tranquil days on the trail. After camping with other hikers by the Woods Creek Suspension Bridge, running into a seemingly rude mother with young children, walking through the warm woods, and finally crossing the unremarkable, yet exhausting as any, Pinchot Pass, I’ve turned 33. Aside from being with closest of the family, I can’t think of a better place and time to grow older.

RUSHING TO MATHER — JMT — Day 5: Rushing towards the second pass of the day — Mather Pass. Today being my birthday and Pinchot and Mather passes being somewhat close together, I’ve been feeling good about making this my 2-pass day. Though, pretty soon, I’m to realize that even just 5–7 extra miles are totally brutal when carrying a heavy pack in this rugged landscape.

Day 6: Mather Pass — 12,080 feet

TAKE ME WITH YOU — JMT — Day 6: Lustfully looking back at the southbound hikers descending the Mather Pass, while I’m taking a breather from ascending it. Passes just don’t get any easier — don’t believe anyone who says otherwise. By this point, the inflow of energy I felt this morning is all gone. Though as always. I’m looking forward to be on the other side of the pass.

WINDING UP — JMT — Day 6: Puzzling over a stream halfway up the Mather Pass. Having climbed a seemingly countless number of switchbacks up the pass, I run into an unexpected stream that suggests that I still have ways to go to the top. This turns out to be a long, exhausting ascent.

MATHER’S WOMB — JMT — Day 6: Looking over the inviting valley that’s my playground for this afternoon, once I get off the infamous Golden Staircase in one piece. This is the most wooded valley I’ve seen so far on the trail, and it’s definitely a welcome change in scenery after days of moon and marscapes.

GOLDEN TIGER MOM — JMT — Day 6: Heading down the infamous Golden Staircase on the northern side of the Mather Pass. This must be the roughest descent I’ve experienced so far on the trail. I also don’t envy those climbing it up, going southward — it was a much easier crossing from the north (then, there’s no easy passes from either side). A couple of passes later, I’ll remember this and other rocky, steep descents in my right knee.

INTO MATHER’S EMBRACE — JMT — Day 6: Arduous descent down the northern side of the Mather Pass, down into the most foresty and inviting valley thus far. The downhill — the Golden Staircase — is one of the most strenuous on the whole trail, later to remind of itself in my knee.

SOUL SPACE — JMT — Day 6: Staring into a birch grove. If there’s one setting that describes my most blissful state of mind, it’s a birch grove, with its lightness of colors and rustle of leaves in the wind. I’ve been looking out for aspen and birch trees on the trail, but they prove to be very sparse, few and far between. I could camp here, if only I learned how time my camps.

EARTH’S WRING — JMT — Day 6: These amazing Juniper trees all look like they were wrung out by the spin of the earth. They are coarse, almost fabric-like to touch. I make sure to stop by and touch each one along the trail.

OVERRUN MEADOW — JMT — Day 6: There should have been a camping spot for me here — it’s the Little Pete Meadow! Sadly, it is totally filled and I have to give-up and hike a couple hundred yards away from it. Later on, sadly, another hiker discovers the same and decides to camp by me: a nurse from England, sleeping in a bivy sack — most seemingly creepy and fascinating way to camp.

Day 7: Muir Pass — 11,955 feet

IMAGINARY MILESTONE — JMT — Day 7: Crossing over the imaginary mid-point of the trail. It’s hard to constantly keep in mind the very endpoint — distant Yosemite Valley — as the goal. So, up till now, I’ve been keeping Muir Pass as a more attainable yet still a far milestone. Of course, the daily passes have proven to be significant milestones of their own. This is also the first time I’m seeing overcast skies on the trail during the day. The clouds seem to be moving south west, and fairly quickly I’m able to pass from under the last of them. PS: A number of hikers at the Muir Hut said the rest is easy — they are miserable liars.

SECOND WIND — JMT — Day 7: With Muir Pass and Muir Hut at my back, with misleading comments by other hikers that the rest is “simple” in my ears, and most importantly, with thoughts of Muir Trail Ranch, its hot-springs, and my resupply in my mind, I forge ahead in high spirits. Right after crossing over the Muir Pass is when I run into the best dressed, clean shaven, fragrant, cheerful, friendly hiker from France, which only adds to my positive outlook.

NOT TO BE — JMT — Day 7: Having crossed the imaginary mid-point of the trail (Muir Pass), for the first time, there’s a sense of dreariness in the sky. Nonetheless, in the far but reachable distance, there’s a strip of endless blue sky, and I know that these remnants of past storm clouds are not to be much longer in my way — an hour later I am again enjoying the perfect blue sky.

THIN BLUE LINE — JMT — Day 7

IGNORED INTRUDER — JMT — Day 7: Once again I’m intruding on the local deer family with my camp. This amazing stream bend becomes a crowded watering whole in the morning for their family — Deer Meadow, as I’m later to discover. Fortunately, they seem to be used to smelly intruders and happily ignore me while bathing in the morning. The meadows and valleys and forests on the north side of the Muir Pass become noticeably more and more familiar: dense with smaller pines, green grass, and thick, mushy mushrooms.

Day 8: Muir Trail Ranch — 7,600 feet

THROUGH FOREST WOMB — JMT — Day 8: Misleadingly warm, pleasant, and inviting walk through a fairytail-like forest down to the Muir Trail Ranch. Climbing out of the deep ranch hollow the following day will be one of the most exhausting ascends, reminiscent of that of Mt Whitney. This is probably the first proper northbound forest on JMT.

Day 9: Selden Pass — 10,970 ft

HIGH REFLECTIONS — JMT — Day 9: First morning after gluttony and hot springs of the Muir Trail Ranch. Feels great to be back on the trail, heading towards the gentle Selden Pass. Today is also the first time I encounter park rangers and volunteers working on improving the trail and checking backcountry permits — I wonder what they’d do if I didn’t have one?!?

SPILLED INK — JMT — Day 9: The first pass coming out of the deep, woody Muir Trail Ranch grove — Selden Pass. As much as the warmth of a lower-lying forest is welcome, it’s amazing to once again be out in the open, above everything else. This is the most beautiful mountain lake on the trail.

INTO BEAR CLAWS — JMT — Day 10: Possibly one of the most idyllic valleys and creeks — Bear Creek Bridge. What a mistake it has been not to camp right there in hopes of seeing a yet better view that’s been over-advertised by an impressionable Englishman, whom I’ve passed a few miles before. Unfortunately, the next few miles past this bridge are one of the most strenuous climbs on the whole trail — Bear Ridge, which really should be called a Pass!

DISNEY MEADOW — JMT — Day 10: Making a mistake of climbing up the Bear Ridge at the end of the day, after passing the idyllic Bear Creek and its meadow. An impressionable Englishman hiking south said this is the most beautiful meadow he’s seen so far on the trail — out of a Disney movie, he said. The meadow is amazingly picturesque, but climbing up the brutal Bear Ridge to see it from above was one of the most memorable mistakes for me. Bear Ridge should be renamed into Bear Pass!

Day 10: Silver Pass — 10,900 feet

WOODEN DESCENT — JMT — Day 10: Navigating down the Bear Ridge, towards the Silver Pass, and in childish anticipation of the Red’s Meadow Pack Station. Valleys seem to become more and more lush green, with dense trees reaching for the sun. The whole feel of the trail changes when descending or ascending down and up through these warm woods, in stark contrast to the barren or sparse (at best) highlands of the previous days. Red’s Meadow Pack Station, with its showers and laundry and burgers and shakes, is becoming more palpable with each step.

LIKE A FEATHER — JMT — Day 10: Ambling along the long two-step ascent towards the Silver Pass. As much as I love dense, warm, fragrant woods, I truly appreciate the barren vistas, where I can see for miles ahead. Today feels like the lightest, most laid-back day.

I GOT THIS — JMT — Day 10: Crossing the Silver Pass, lighthearted and clear-minded. Finally, I seem to have a handle on the daily routine of crossing a daily pass, and feel like I could go on like this forever. I run into a father and daughter at the top, who have been increasing their hiking distance every year, as the daughter is growing taller and stronger — they seem to be going all the way this year. I know I’ll be at Red’s Meadow Pack Station tomorrow, so I seem to have boundless energy today to get as close to it as I can.

THEIR KINGDOM — JMT — Day 10: Climbing off the Silver Pass, I encounter this royal pair overlooking their wooden kingdom below. They seem to have the best spot on the ridge, yet it’s mind-boggling what they are holding onto or how they get their nutrients.

Day 11: Red’s Meadow Pack Station — 7,500 feet

PICTURESQUE DAY — JMT — Day 11: The most picturesque morning on the trail. Surrounding mountain lakes are totally still, air temperature is unusually warm for this morning hour, the sky is draped in a thin, feathery blanket, and for once, one of the surrounding lakes is cut off from its sources and is milk-warm. On top of all that, I know that I’ll be humanely bathing and dining for the first time on the trail at Red’s Meadow tonight!

TWISTED IMITATOR — JMT — Day 11: While soaking-in the shadows of the most dense pine forest so far, I encounter this most amazing twisting, red hill. A burning urge to climb this hill is something that persists in my mind for the next mile or so (if only it wasn’t somewhat off the trail and seemingly hard-to-approach). One of the trees in the middle is desperately trying to imitate the hill that it’s been staring at its whole life.

NORWEGIAN WOODS — JMT — Day 11: Ambling gaily through warm and fragrant woods towards the happiest belly-pleasing spot on the trail — Red’s Meadow Pack Station. For the first time there are no mountain passes to cross today. Nonetheless, the variety of landscapes I’m passing is eye-popping: death-still teardrop-clear mountain lakes in the morning, mountain crest paths with breathtaking valley views at noon, mother-warm fragrant woods in the afternoon, and burned-out valley in the evening.

EVERYTHING’S GONNA BE ALRIGHT — JMT — Day 11: Walking through the remnants of the long-forgotten wildfire, with young, slim evergreens rising among their long-gone ancestors. I imagine how scary it’d be to walk through this landscape after sunset.

CHANGING OF THE GUARD — JMT — Day 11: The final stretch of today’s leg towards the Red’s Meadow Pack Station, through the hilly, burned remnants of the forest. Without the tree cover, for the last half-hour, I exude copious amounts of sweat as I roll into the pack station. If I’m correct, these tree remnants are a mark of the wildfire some 15–20 years ago. New growth is finally sprouting though, with burned elders cheering them on.

Day 12: Island & Donohue Passes — 10,200 & 11,050 feet

UGLIEST LAKE — JMT — Day 12: First day of hiking after last night’s and this morning’s gluttony at the Red’s Meadow Pack Station. This may also be the first day when I didn’t have a major mountain pass to cross, so my body’s pain/pleasure cycle is out of whack. After being used to still, miniature, azure mountain lakes at higher elevations, somehow this Lake Garnet stands out as the ugliest one on the trail, even though it’s still one of the prettiest I’ve ever seen: either I’ve been spoiled or just annoyed about getting lost while circumnavigating it in search of the trail, my skin beaten by its high winds and eyes by its unattractive waves. So spoiled! Turns out Banner Peak in the background is a commonly climbed peak with most amazing high-elevation mountain lakes — next time, next time.

SLEEPING BEAR, WATCHFUL SPRUCE — JMT — Day 12: Continuing the long lazy hike around the Garnet Lake, towards the Thousand Island Lake. This is probably only the 2nd or 3rd time I lost my way on the trail. The trail unexpectedly turns back and around the lake, passing right along the sleeping bear mount in the background. While the lake looks beautiful and inviting on the photo, in-person, the area is quite windy and the lake is wavy and its shores are mostly hard to approach.

Day 13: Tuolumne Meadows — 8,619 feet

TINY DANCER — JMT — Day 13: Continuing down the endless plain towards Tuolumne Meadows campground with unlimited cokes, ice-cream, fruits and meat. With Red’s Meadow Pack Station (with its amazing showers, shakes and burgers) still fresh in my mind and belly, I imagine Tuolumne Meadows will at least match it. And so, I push-on through this dusty, drying valley towards the illusive waypoint that will turn out to be none of that.

WITCH BURNING — JMT — Day 13: Traversing the endless valley towards the Tuolumne Meadows. I can also already feel the draught heading my way, with many of the streams and lakes looking dry. I’m pushing to my second encounter with modern life at Tuolumne Meadows campground after many days in the wilderness. I can almost taste all the coke I’ll drink and ice-cream I’ll eat. Running into many more day-hikers, I can also sense the trail getting closer to its end. Later in the day at the campground, I meet an old hiker who lives in and hikes the Yosemite National Park all summer long and goes back home in September — a mental note for my golden years. A couple of days later, I run into him again while waiting for Amtrak.

DUSTY PLANE — JMT — Day 13: Ambling through the endless dusty valley towards Tuolumne Meadows campground. The Yosemite Valley draught mentioned by southbound hikers is very palpable. The grass and streams are drying out, and for the first time on the trail, I’m sweating mainly because of high temperature and dry air — the valley is flat! It would do me good to settle down for the night, but I’m pushing on to the campground.

Day 14: Cathedral Pass & Yosemite Valley — 9,700 feet

DRAUGHT VALLEY — JMT — Day 14: Traversing towards the end of the trail through draught-stricken Yosemite National Park. This is the longest stretch of the trail with no nearby source of water, some 5–7 miles of hiking. As much as I want to stop and camp at one of these meadows while still in Yosemite highlands, doing so with no plentiful water to wash-up, cook, or drink seems miserable, and so I press on until I find a slow flowing cold spring a few miles further.

Day 15: Happy Isles — 4,000 feet

BEST FRIENDS FOREVER — JMT — Day 15: The last handful of miles on the trail. Unable to complete the trail on the previous day due to the drought and exhaustion in Yosemite Valley, I’m leisurely strolling off the trail into Happy Isles. Just after taking a photo of these two best friends forever (the mountain and the tree), I hear a whistle. As I start walking down the few final switchbacks of the trail, I run into a pale-faced mother and her daughter running up the trail. They join me to go back down and later claim that I have saved them from the bear that they ran into while walking down just a minute before me: the bear I’m never to see, the bear that left a big puddle of urine after hearing their terrifying whistle. I don’t protest the honor bestowed on me.

TILL NEXT TIMES — JMT — Day 15: Saying goodbye to the trail and draught-stricken Yosemite. Fifteen days is quite a perfect number of days to be in the wilderness and I’m glad to be getting out, totally exhausted yet full of energy. Hour-long shower, pizza, and ice-cream are all awaiting me at Happy Isles. The End.

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