Friday, July 18, 2014

Post Trip Thoughts


Sunday, July 6th, my first day at home: 

I slept in a bed last night! I have to say, it was quite nice. I uploaded my photos to my computer, read my journal over, and added my trip statistics:

elevation
miles
Location
3700
6.1
Mt Whitney
2500
12.3
Mt Whitney
3690
16.5
Forrester Pass
2476
10.5
Glen Pass
800
10.5
Rae Lakes
3360
10.7
Pinchot Pass
1874
10.5
Mather Pass
2350
16
towards Muir Pass
2550
19
Muir Pass
3450
16
Piute Pass
0
5
26750
133.1
Totals

I even impressed myself with the final numbers! Not bad for a first-time solo hike!



I hiked from right to left on the elevation profile above, from Mt. Whitney to near Muir Ranch Trail to take the Piute Pass trail out. Each peak on the grid is a pass noted above in my mileage table. Wow!


Otherwise, my first day back was mellow, and I didn’t want to go out and see anyone. One friend came over and heard my stories, and otherwise I just had to chill at home, in complete quiet.

Monday, July 7th:

I went to the dentist to have my rear molar crown glued back on, and left there $200 lighter. But I was overjoyed that the tooth could be saved, and I am chewing properly again. Blisters are still healing, as are also the raw skin areas from sunburns on my tummy, top and sides of ears, and backs of hands. The heat welts on my thighs seem to be clearing up fast now that I am not exposing that skin to the sun. I saturated my entire body with coconut oil because my skin was so dry everywhere.

Saturday, July 12th: one week after returning home: 

I’ve been to work Monday through Friday, and found it busy and a little hard to synch with it, particularly at the first of the week. By the end of the week I was finally caught up with two weeks missed plus the current week, not bad progress! My spirits still soar, and I’ve been hoping to find the time to write this blog to share with the many people who have asked me about my trip.

I cried leaving the mountains because it made me feel small, so insignificant in what can feel like such a big and cold world. How could I fit all that I experienced into this little body vessel to take it back home? Was that even possible? The conclusion came to me that I needed not to fit into a sort of smallness, but to bring the expansiveness into my everyday life, to never lose that.

On the first day of my solo hike I met Pillsbury. She told me about an cartoon that appeared in Backpacker Magazine – June 2014 issue, and it was a doddle by PCT hiker “Doodles” (Katie Lei) in which she compared how PCT hikers were like 5-year olds. PCT hikers all up and down the trail were chuckling over these similarities, which I will share here:
We go to bed at 8:30
I need to dig a hole!
We walk places in lines
Still not getting a job!
Talking to yourself and creating elaborate fantasies in your mind
Going by silly nicknames
Eating food off the ground
Playing outside
Needing a bath
Having emotional meltdowns for dubious reasons
Realizing you need to poop RIGHT NOW
Happy to accept candy from strangers
Wearing the same clothes everyday
Poking things with sticks
Picking one’s nose in public
And my favorite: becoming best friends forever with total strangers

 
Back with my fun car again

Two weeks after returning home, Saturday July 18, 2014: 


I have mostly healed and peeled on blisters and sunburns but the raw burn on my right shoulder continues to itch all through the day. I’ve been tired, so I know my body needed some time to catch back up to itself. Yet my spirits still soar, and it only takes a moment to look outside at the trees or the undulating forest near my home to transport myself back in spirit. That spirit lives on within me and is easily drawn back up to my joyful mind. 

What an enriching experience this solo-hiking adventure was for me. I remain ever grateful for all that I have received, which is far too much to list in any writing. Joy to you all, that you too may experience the peace, joy, and oneness of Nature.


In the cosmic Aum, Sitabai “Sky Pilot”

Day Eleven: Saturday, July 5, 2014

Hike approx 5 miles out to car parked at North Lake Parking. Drive home. Sleep in my bed tonight.


I awoke early again, and had my 2/3 cup coffee and nut bar for breakfast. I was hiking by 6:30am. I figure I can be down by 8:30am easy, with about 3.5 miles ahead to go and then a little walk to the car parking. The hike down is beautiful and I stop to chat with a couple guys on their way up. They examine my lightweight backpack and the effortless bounce I seem to exude in my stride. I explain the qualities of my groovy backpacking ultra-light gear that has made this trip possible, thanks to a dear friend who graciously loaned it to me in order that I might have the ability to hike light and fast.

I make it down to the beautiful forest below in no time, complete with mosquitoes and amazing blooming wildflowers again. When I started crossing little streams I knew I was getting close to the trailhead, so I found a spot away from the trail to do a final washup. I had hoped to be “presentable” and so I also rinsed out my hair, letting it dry curly instead of mashing it under my hiking baseball cap.






Creek crossings, flowers, and my final trail out. 

When I popped out at the trailhead I looked for the parking lot. All told, I hiked 5 miles this morning, and it was 9:15am when I got to the car. But the car was there, just as Brian had promised! He put my car keys in a zip-lock baggie (which we all carry for our food supplies), and then duct-taped it to the underside of my rear bumper (duct tape being another backpacker staple item). I chuckled at the humor in that, and then gave thanks for this fine gentleman who made my life so easy today. I make a mental note to write him an email (note and contact details were also in the baggie) when I return home.

Driving down to Bishop from this high parking area I noticed the dramatic mountains receding in the rear view mirror at a fast loss-of-definition pace. At a distance they now looked like nothing. Why would anyone want to go up there? Peaks, yes. High, yes. But no definition to their incredible, understated beauty. And yet I know their secrets; learning them requires getting up close and personal. Then you see it all on an intimate scale.

As the mountains fade my tears flow. How can I really be leaving?
 
The great Sierras look so very different from this perspective
In Bishop I get that coveted egg tomato breakfast bagel I have had tucked in the back of my mind for the last 24 hours. It was worth the anticipation! Plus I got a bear claw. And coffee. And fresh squeezed orange juice. Here comes a food coma! OMG! Bliss! I buy another sticky bun for the drive home, and I hit the road.

Driving seems WAY TOO FAST! It’s almost freaky. I’ve traveled by my own feet for the last 11 days, at about 1.5 to 2 miles per hour. While walking I see the trees, lakes, mountains, streams: all move from in front of me to behind me, and my progress out there feels real. Now things whiz by so fast it shocks me. I consciously try to focus on my safe driving, so that I don’t “check out” whenever I wistfully look to the west and see the mountains soaring just over there. I removed the top of my convertible, turned on the music, and settled in for the long drive home.

It was all fine for a while until I got to Lake Tahoe, which is high elevation and alpine. It looked so much like my daily home these last 11 days that I erupted in tears again. That was hard, and once again I forced myself to focus on driving.



I arrived home at 7pm. The stress of driving seemed far greater than carrying a backpack for 19 miles! I was home, safe, and blissfully at peace. I was really glad the world stopped whizzing by at 60mph!



Elevation map of the John Muir Trail. I started on the right, at Mt Whitney, and went left....leaving between Bishop Pass and Muir Trail Ranch (having crossed that bump which is Muir Pass)

Day Ten: Friday, July 4, 2014

Hike 2.6 miles to Piute Pass Trail, then 12.4 miles to Piute Pass (11,423’), then approx 1.0 mile to little lake beyond Pass. Approx 16.0 miles. Approx 3450’ elevation gain. Sleep at 10,958’.



Pillsbury and I awoke early again, as was our way. With breakfast (and coffee for me, yum) behind us, we begin our walk along the Evolution Creek canyon, passing deer and marmot out for the morning play. It was lovely. In 2.5 miles we came to a sign announcing that we were leaving Kings Canyon National Park. I remember when a similar sign told me I had entered the Park! I had actually walked through the entire thing from south to north!

We crossed Piute Creek on a steel trestle bridge, and came immediately upon my exit trail to Piute Pass. Not a happy moment, actually! We both were sad that our hiking days together were done, at least for now. Pillsbury took a selfie of us to mark this moment, and we gave each other a big hug. Fighting tears I said, “You’ve taught me a lot.” To which she replied, “You’ve taught me a lot, too.” And that’s how we parted.
 
Pillsbury by an ancient cedar tree struggling to survive on the windy hillside. Photo from Pillsbury.

Our last parting photo as I take Piute Pass out. Photo by Pillsbury.

I marched right up the steep trail to Piute Pass in my own solid pace. My legs felt strong and dependable. I reflected on how I was so incredibly grateful for my newfound friendship with Pillsbury. She had given me my PCT training-wheels back in the beginning when I met her on my Day One Solo, and then she just trusted that I had the chutzpah to do this kind of hiking. She gave me PCT hiking tips, gear tips, and encouragement. I won’t forget this angel on the trail. Without ever having met her I would not have experienced nearly so much these last 10 days. And the serendipity of it was, once again, a reminder of how Divine Mother takes care of me, giving me everything I need at the time that I need it. Besides, she said I would make any PCT hiker proud!  ;-)

It was 12.4 miles of up and more up, about 3800’ of gain to get to Piute Pass. (More than I had thought when I took the map from Brian.) Good thing my pack is at its lightest! There were lots of wooded areas along the way, which also translates to lots of mosquitoes. I usually didn’t tarry long in these places, though the Piute creek just there, bubbling along next to the trail, was lovely. The interesting thing now, at the end of my trip, is that I better understand my limits. My longest day on this journey was 19 miles, and I could do it. I’d probably aim for more like 15-17 miles for a day on future trips, but I need to also realize that I did this in 11 days without 2 months already under my belt for experience. If I were to hike more consistently over time, I might actually knock out those regular 20 mile PCT days. Who knows. But I was able to do far more than I ever anticipated.

I reached a high meadow beyond the forest at 2:00pm, and I had thought to hike until I cleared the forest and got away from the mosquitoes. This place was perfect, with several shallow meandering bubbling creeks. I followed one creek upstream after it bisected the trail, in hopes to find a secluded place for a bath. I needed to clean up, since tomorrow I would be leaving the trail and I had neglected one important thing in pre-planning – to pack extra clothes in the car to change into from my daily hiking clothes. This meant I will be wearing these clothes all the way home, which is more than a 6-hour drive. Ug. Not that I minded so much, but the people taking my money at the bakery and at Starbucks might!

I found a lovely spot by the creek in the alpine sunshine and took off all my clothes. I examined the sunburn that I had been nursing along on my tummy for the last 5 days; it now has tiny water blisters that have yet to pop. I washed out each item of clothing in the stream (no soap, so I just did the best I could), and hung them in a bush to dry. It’s warm, and I estimate the clothes will be dry in an hour or so. Then me next….scrub, scrub! Trying to look like a real person and not a dirty hiker! My hands are bronze tan, but they also have a different hue to them, too…..one of dirt embedded deep into the cracks and into the skin. It doesn’t come off. My thumbs have blisters, so I can’t rub hard, and the skin has cracked open in various places from getting too dry. The dirt loves these places. Oh well, trying to be unstinky is the highest objective right now.

I meditate for an hour. So blissful. So surrounded by the Divine. This time I sit in my wind jacket and pants, to avoid another high-altitude sunburn.




More beautiful alpine flowers in the high meadows

After about 90 minutes I put on my clothes, some still damp but fine to wear. They will dry as I walk. I continue hiking to Piute Pass. The scenery and serenity here is amazing. So divinely peaceful. I will be so sad to leave it tomorrow.

I’m now watching my food rations. Today’s food reserve came from stealing from future days to create a new food day in order to stay out one day longer than at first planned. My food supply is getting thin now, such that tick-tacks and altoids are considered a main calorie source while I continue hiking. I’m figuring on just a nut bar for breakfast tomorrow, plus a ration of coffee (which amounts to about 2/3 cup, but enough to get me started for the day), and to make it to Schat’s Bakery in Bishop for that cheese-tomato breakfast bagel they have there. Yum. And a real cup of coffee. The thought of tomorrow’s food allows me to forgo today’s hunger.

I crest the Pass at around 5:00pm, and celebrate with one of my last ginger hard candies. Too windy to stay, I look back to where I’ve just come from, say goodbye to the deep canyons of Kings Canyon National Park, and drop down the East side.

About 45 minutes later I arrive at the first lake, and my knees are telling me it is time to quit. I make camp, and heat water for a cup of tea. This, and a nut bar, is dinner. Another cup of tea with the last piece of toffee is dessert. And I’m happy beyond compare.
 
Approaching Piute Pass up ahead.

The view of my little lake with the sun setting is splendid. It is the 4th of July, and I’ve seen so few people today. Every atom, every blade of grass, gust of wind, buzzing mosquito, playful ground squirrel, cloud in the sky, bubbling creek, rocks and mountain passes, tree…..all these things breath the creative in and out breath of the Divine. I am so much a part of it. I listen to one bird call repeatedly for a mate, with no reply. The sentry mountain behind the lake keeps careful watch over the entire mountain ecosystem, of which I am for this moment a part. I find myself melting into the oneness with it, and having some fear of reintegration to the “world of men” tomorrow. “That world” seems foreign to me at this moment, too busy, too frenetic, too chaotic. I head to bed while the sun is still setting and fall deeply asleep. 

Day Nine: Thursday, July 3, 2014

Little Lake below Muir Pass, cross Muir Pass (11,973’), drop down to Evolution Basin, Evolution Meadow, to steel bridge crossing. 19.0 miles (including 1.5 miles of double-back on trail). Approx 2550’ elevation gain. Sleep at 8376’.


What a day. I began early by stashing my backpack contents except my lunch and water, as I intended to “day hike” to the top of Muir Pass with Pillsbury and return afterwards  to collect my things and retrace my steps to the Bishop Pass exit. We began at about 6:45am, and after just 25 minutes or so we were greeted by a man hiking down the trail towards us. Everyone on the trail is so friendly, and often stops to say hello and inquire as to your itinerary. This man similarly asked, and Pillsbury answered Canada, while I said I was a section hiker who wished for an exit trail farther north so that I could keep hiking. To my surprise, this man said, “Oh, I just came from Piute Pass. That will get you out!” We discussed the details of the trail, where I would come out in reference to where I had left my car, etc. It seemed a far hike alternative, but doable. A week ago I’d have scoffed at the thought of that next exit trail being 20 miles from here, and that being “just a day away”. Now….it’s just part of the plan.

I expressed that taking another trail that is not highly used might be dangerous if I were to lose the trail and not be carrying a map. He cheerfully said, “I just came from there, here! You can have my map!” It was like all the pieces were being handed to be from the Universe. I accepted the map, thanked him profusely, and said, “Well, Pillsbury, how would you like me to hike the whole day with you today, instead?” She was delighted, so I dashed back down the approximately 0.75 miles to my stashed things (tent, sleeping bag, bear canister with remaining food, etc), and reloaded it up. I had moved quickly down, and it took me 7 minutes to reload my pack. I was back on the trail for my second time up this beautiful section in almost no time.

Soon after restarting the hike back up I met this same man again. He stopped me and said, “I’ve been thinking, if you give me your car keys I will move your car for you to the new trailhead where you will exit.” My inner exclamation mark lit up. Whoa! What a gift! But…then the inner skeptic spoke. Who hands over their keys to their car, out in the wilderness far from anywhere, to a total stranger whom I’ve exchanged only a few words? I only just purchased this car a few weeks ago, and I love it! I’d hate to have it stolen. The inner voice said calmly, “You can trust this man.” I thus handed over my keys with about 1.025 seconds of consideration, all inner guidance was giving a resounding “yes!” so I went with it, thanked him, and headed up to the Pass.
Sign inside Muir Hut

Pillsbury having breakfast  inside the hut

I caught up with Pillsbury just as we both crested the Pass. It’s a beautiful one, with the Muir Hut at the top. We went inside, out of the wind, to enjoy some food and meet a man inside who seemed to be finding solace in the mountains and meditating there. I also met a man outside the hut who was in obvious pain walking, and he told me he had 11 blisters on each foot. Blisters can turn into real problems on the trail besides pain, so I got out my first aid kit and gave him my antiseptic ointment and my Hypericum remedy. He told me he didn’t have anything to carry a portion of these two things in, and I said I was simply giving them to him, since I would leave trail in one more day. I sent prayers and blessings for his quick recovery.
 
Me at Muiir Pass hut
After some food and photos at the top we started down to Evolution Lakes. Oh my, I’ve never seen anything so incredibly BLUE! Such amazing depth of color. Azure blue meets white granite like you find in Yosemite. Spectacular meadows with soft babbling water drainage. I was moaning and groaning softly, walking in the rear, and Pillsbury said, “Everything ok back there?” I laughed. “Yes! I just can’t get over the beauty!”






Pictures above of Evolution Lakes on the hike down the north side of Muir Pass. These photos by Pillsbury.

It was a magnificent walk. We stopped later on a big rock overlooking one of the lakes for lunch. Soon the trail turned to a steeper switchback trail descending to Evolution Valley, along Evolution Creek. This little creek was turning into a real raging waterway, complete with waterfalls. Eventually we found ourselves down in the lower meadow and needed to cross the creek, which had widened into a small river. We found a spot where it was only about 18” deep and removed our shoes to carefully walk across.

Now tired, we needed to push on. I’ve joined the PCT ranks where I need to get the miles in today because I am now in that place of running out of food and I need to get to my exit trail! We push on, but we both were getting tired. The downhill hike can be more challenging than the uphill, needing to step with great care lest my tired knees buckle. Some spots were like the Misty Trail in Yosemite, along the side of the now-waterfall proportions of Evolution Creek. It was dramatic and stunning, especially since the sun was once again getting lower in the sky.
 
Neat stream crossing with big bolders on left. Me crossing Evolution creek on right. Photos by Pillsbury.





Photos above are of Evolution Valley and creek as the day progressed. Photos by Pillsbury.

We found a place to camp as the canyon grew darker. Ah, food! Because of my double-back on the trail in the morning, I had completed an astounding 19 miles today. I was sound asleep when my head went horizontal.
 
Pillsbury's tent tonight, mine is nearby. Metal bridge in the background is our trail crossing the creek tomorrow morning. Photo by Pillsbury.
I’ve heard some hikers on the trail say, “Those PCT hikers…..they are in such a big hurry! They don’t stop to smell the roses!” I’ve now hiked a 16.5 mile day over the tallest pass on the PCT (Forrester, at 13,200’), and two more days at 16.0 and 19.0 (including over Muir Pass today at 11,973’). Consider that in the three decades that I hiked with and trained my four beautiful sons in backpacking, that we hiked then 5-7 miles a day (7 miles was a big, tiresome day, but keep in mind that we carried big loads for supporting a family, plus back then ultra-light gear was not available as it is today). I, too, thought those long-distance hikers were crazy back then. Now I’m one of them, and completely happy. Covering these much bigger miles is a “walk in the park”, literally. When Pillsbury found me a few days ago, after our schoolgirl screaming and hugs, she simply said, “Wanna walk?” You see, it’s not even a “hike”, which seems to convey something far more arduous. We just walk and enjoy the many hours a day watching the scenery go by.

What’s more is that I’ve realized that distance traveled is a function of weight carried. I learned a lot on my trail talk with Pillsbury. A PCT hiker tries to do a “carry” (how many days between food resupply) at about 3-5 days. On this trip I did an amazing 11-day carry, and was relatively “heavy” at a starting weight of 27# or so. For me, with my history of 45-65# on family backpacking trips (the weight thankfully diminished as my boys got to be teens and could carry more weight instead of me and Balarama doing it with our getting-older bodies), this beginning weight for me now seemed incredibly low. With a low backpack weight, I could walk far longer than ever before, and what a delight!


I think a PCT hiker is like a  Marathon runner, who is out there for 4 hours covering over 26 miles. Nobody shouts to them, “Hey! Stop and smell the roses! You are racing through the scenery!” Why not? Because they are on a race. PCT hikers are not “racing” per se, but they are trying to make it to Canada in five months, and that in itself is a race against time before the seasons change. On these longer-miles days we stopped: to collect water (often, so that we didn’t have to carry so much of this heavy critical item, at 2# per quart), or for an hour lunch break – usually over an incredible vista, or for other rest stops. We always saw SO MUCH in a day! We started early, with the dramatic slant of the morning sun, and ended late, watching that same dramatic sun alight the scenery. We saw animals play early and late, while they tend to hide and rest in the day. We covered so much territory! So much to see and absorb! In the end, you seen, PCT hikers are still appreciating every flower in bloom, every glorious view, but they just keep on the move. I came to really appreciate that. 
Muir Pass when on top - looking south to Evolution Lakes.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Day Eight: Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Drop down to Bishop Pass Trail, up to little lake below Muir Pass. 16.0 miles. 2350’ elevation gain. Sleep at 10,869’.


I awoke at 5:00am so that I could watch the sun come up in its dramatic way in this canyon and meditate while there. So beautiful! Besides, the birds at dawn are a cacophony each morning and won’t let me sleep. I so enjoy the really early hours. After breakfast I packed up and was on trail at about 7:00, with a joyful step.

At perhaps 10:00am I sat by the stream coming down from the dramatic steep canyon I had just switchbacked steadily down and was filterning some water again. Focusing on my task, I didn’t notice the other hiker who walked by me. Suddenly there was a scream: “SITABAI!!!!!” I looked up, but not fast enough to avoid being nearly knocked over by the exuberance of Pillsbury! I began screaming gleefully, too, and we rocked back and forth in a big hug! We found each other again! We were so happy to reunite!

Headed down from Mather Pass, looking to the distance to Muir Pass near the end of today. Photo courtesy of Pillsbury.

After our greeting, she simply said, “Wanna walk?” Oh, the simplicity of PCT hikers. There’s no other concern, so let’s just walk!

The photos today and tomorrow are mostly from Pillsbury blog since my cell phone was getting really low on batteries.

I was so excited to rejoin with Pillsbury and we gabbed away at a rapid pace, catching up on the events of the last 5 days since we had parted. Such a delightful soul she is, and so nice that we fell right back into step again.

In a couple hours we passed a bubbling, vigorous stream racing across the granite slabs. It was gorgeous! We decided to have a sit, soak our feet in the cold water, and eat lunch. We sat for about an hour enjoying the water and the nourishing power of food. I also had my usual Starbucks Via instant coffee with Nido Milk Powder. It never fails to please and to make my smile just a bit bigger!

Pillsbury had been loosely hiking with another PCT hiker for the last several days, a man with the PCT name of “Walrus”. He usually finds a lunch spot and waits for Pillsbury, but we never found him today. I always marvel at the perfect ebb and flow:  now I reappear in Pillsbury’s world and Walrus sets a faster pace and seems far ahead of us, all without any planning. How does that exactly work?  ;-)

After lunch it wasn’t much farther and we came upon the Bishop Pass Trail Junction. This was my intended exit point. Now since finding Pillsbury again I didn’t want to leave! Fortunately, I was now two days ahead of schedule, which I had intended to spend playing around the famous Dusy Basin up by Bishop Pass. Instead I decided on the spur of the moment to hike further on the PCT with Pillsbury, figuring I could go as far as she wanted to for the day and camp with her tonight. My plan evolved into overshooting Bishop Pass, camping high up tonight, day hike with Pillsbury to Muir Pass in the morning and look over to the famous Evolution Lakes below, and return to this Bishop Pass trail tomorrow afternoon. Perfect, a solution to go on.

Not too long after this I met a man with two young boys. I asked if they might be leaving by Bishop Pass and if they might take a message for me, to call home and let people know I’d be back a day later than expected (having earlier in the week re-allocated my food, because I realized I’d want to stay out longer). This man was very happy to take the message, and I marveled again at the perfection of finding this one right person, and never seeing another soul the rest of the day. How does that exactly work? ;-)
The great rock monster, he does have an eye on the right but it is hard to see
Pillsbury and I hiked on, up and up towards Muir Pass. We spotted the great Rock Monster, so famous for PCT hikers! On we hiked, to a lovely little lake about 2.5 miles shy of Muir Pass. The sun was setting, and we were both ready for some dinner and to pitch our tents. I had a joyful day today with Pillsbury and will be sorry to only hike to the Pass tomorrow and then turn back, but I am thankful for this extra time to enjoy  the trail with her.

Pillsbury gave me a PCT trail name today! I had been watching the changing flora of wildflowers, always so inspired by them, and I expressed my sadness in not seeing the Sky Pilot flower on the most recent mountain Passes. It is a very high-elevation flower, and smells like Hawaii. Little purple pom-poms in an otherwise rocky inhospitable place. I love them the most! Suddenly Pillsbury said, “You’re name is Sky Pilot!” She said it was an appropriate name because I love them so, because I wear a purple-blue tank top every day - the same color as the flowers, because I am sweet like them, because I am a rare breed and push hard to reach high goals, and when finding the Sky Pilot flower one is treated to its inner and outer beauty. Pillsbury is so poetic, and said the name was perfect for me. I decided to keep it! What an honor! J
In the valley, looking in the direction of our next Pass (Muir), photo by Pillsbury

The lovely creek coming down from the Muir basin, photo by Pillsbury

This trip is beyond any of my wildest expectations. I began with some trepidation as to my abilities, given my age and knee/hip joint problems. I’ve never walked these long mileages before. I have a tremendous amount of backcountry experience, but I’ve never been solo for 11 days. I once again lay down to sleep with a smile of deep inner gratitude for all that has been given me. Thank you to the Divine in every rock, stream, flower, animal, wind, and fellow hiker. I am incredibly blessed.
Our camp below Muir Pass, I am in the photo behind her tent. Photo by Pillsbury

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Day Seven: Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Lake of the Devas to the valley, up over Mather Pass (12,100’), to stream above Upper Palisade Lake. 10.5 miles. 1874’ elevation gain. Sleep at 10,777’.

I didn’t sleep well last night, it being too hot here at this balmy 11,000’. Elevation does make a difference! This little lake will be one of my favorite spots of the trip, so full of prana, or essential life force. I have found precious few places such as this on this earth, where I feel the veil between this reality and the next is very thin. The spiritual vibrations here are very strong. I walked back out to the middle of the inlet stream and sat to meditate because I didn’t want to leave it, although I normally hit the trail early and save meditation for mid-day. Funny, too, that others seem immune to it, or choose not to attune to it. There is also a couple camping a few hundred feet away and they have only approached the water once to gather water. Out here in the middle of it I am listening to the aliveness of this place, the bumblebees, the grasshoppers, the mosquitoes, the occasional fish jumping. The water is a deep blue with neat jaggedy rocks all around, and reflects the sky and the mountains. I want to capture the sights, sounds, smells, shades of light, temperature, reflections, and subtle vibrations to keep within me always.

I think of this place being blanketed in snow again in a few months so that the woodland devas may have their heavenly home to themselves. I thank them for sharing it with me. I am in love with the Divine, with Mother Nature, here in the essential Now, inspired and joyful and alive inside. I close my eyes again and reach out with my senses to feel the essence of creation, and I hope that I can keep that inside yet always ready to share it with a smile or a kind word to the few people I will pass on the trail today.

By creek up to Mather Pass
I see so few people out here, from 5-15 people a day, which seems relatively few for being such a main trail as the PCT/JMT. We are far from the entry trails now. The hiker community is a family and would do things for another without the least hesitation. But yet, they surprisingly continue to carry so much of their worldly worries and city vibrations with them. Few leave them behind. I wonder for the 5-month PCT hikers if this psychological backpack of worries, concerns, and ego attachments remain even into Oregon and Washington. Will they ever jettison this backpack full of emotional drain?

The mosquitoes are loving me this morning, even with my headnet on, so I think it is time to begin my day’s walk. The area is very rocky all around, and those big polished granite slabs so common to Yosemite are appearing more and more frequently now, reminding me of the glacial activity to create these steep, dramatic canyons. Stunning beauty is all around.

I began walking and took several water breaks on the steady climb to Mather Pass, as the creeks were splendid and beautiful. My hips began to hurt and I wondered, “why now?”, with having had such success and no pain for so many days. Suddenly I realized that I did not put on my S-I-Joint belt this morning, thinking I was “so strong I don’t need it anymore!” I stopped and put it on again, and an hour later the hip pain left me.




 More beautiful flowers as I hike up to the Pass today.

I wonder if Pillsbury will catch up to me today. When I reached the last little lakelet below the Pass it calls to me to linger. All around is a rolling grassy tuft so that if you sit in the low spot it creates a sort of backrest for you. I found one of these inviting places to recline, and ate lunch. I lay back lazily, and watched the clouds dance in the sky. Up here the winds are stronger, and the clouds have more of a story to tell. I must have lounged for quite a bit, pondering the nature of life, the beauty all around, the endless quiet. Finally it felt time for me to start the last switchback ascent to the top.

Swami Kriyananda wrote a song that has a verse that goes like this, and it went round and round in my head playfully:
Leave home in the sunshine!
Dance through a meadow!
Or sit by a stream and just BE!
The lilt of the water will gather your worries, and carry them down to the sea.


The lilt of the water will gather your worries, and carry them down to the sea!


My dad once had said he was giving me an imaginary bouquet of wildflowers. It struck me, because one does not give a bouquet of wildflowers, as they droop so quickly. As I walked up the south side of Mather Pass there suddenly were the most amazing collection of wildflowers…..they were everywhere! Cheerful, and smiling! My guru had said that God smiles in the flowers. I was so inspired by these cheerful floral faces, they took my breath away. I felt so loved and so blessed. I continued walking, doing an inner puja, giving my attachments and life-hurts up to the wind, allowing my consciousness to be free and to soar.

I passed a couple coming down from the Pass; they were headed South. I began to wonder if perhaps Pillsbury had overtaken me somewhere and I just hadn’t known it. I asked them to look for a young woman with a Pillsbury dough-boy stuffie mascot on the shoulder of her backpack, probably hiking alone, and probably not more than a day behind me. They assured me they would keep a watch out, and simply give her a hello from me should they find her.
 
Can you see the switchback trail coming up the Pass? Looking South.

Me at the top, having donned my fleece top, always a little chilly up there.

Trail as it leaves, headed North

Selfie at the Pass, my backpack resting behind me

When I reached the summit I was in such an inner space from all the many “bouquets of wildflowers”. I sat there for a while writing in my journal. The only sounds were wind and an occasional bird call, and the faint ringing in my own ears. I was alone in this wilderness, free, protected, alive, buzzing with the connection with Nature. It was incredibly beautiful no matter which way you looked. I can see all the way to the lake where I started this morning, and it is so far off in the valley beyond.
 
Down the North side of Mather Pass, ever beautiful!

In the far distance is Mather Pass where I crossed earlier. Below is Upper Palisade Lake, but it is some distance down the slope.

After maybe a half hour of sitting alone, a couple hiking together made it to the top. Then a single man with a dark beard and happy step. Neither did I care to engage with, being in such an inward space. I donned my pack and began down the north slope of the Pass. I arrived at the slope above Upper Palisade Lake and began looking for a campsite. There weren’t many, owing to the trail crossing side-wise on the slope that went dramatically down to the lake below (that the trail never actually visited). I put down my backpack near a group of four who were planning their next day’s adventure together, and went back up-trail to the stream crossing to collect water for the evening. One man in this group near me was extremely loud! I thought it would calm down once their plans were established, but now was time for me to make a decision: Stay here with the noise, or pack up and move on. I craved the quiet, so I repacked all my items strewn about (I was close to pitching my tent, so everything was out of the pack), and headed out again.

Fortunately it wasn't far and I found a place where my tent would fit on the side-slope, which an incredible over-view of Palisade Lake below. I muttered out loud, “PERFECT!” and set my camp. My camping site is actually illegal, in that we are required to camp 100’ from the trail and I am 3’ from the trail, but no one can blame me for this, with so little space anywhere to set a tent. I get to stay here tonight? What a divine place! What a gift and a blessing!

I sat back on the granite and watched the sun cast those fading orange colors on the high mountains, called alpenglow. I meditated, ate dinner overlooking the view, and all was extremely well in my world. Roibos chai with instant milk powder and stevia powder, plus M&M’s were for desert. Oh my, not a care in the world.

Day Six: Monday, June 30, 2014

Creek in the woods to Swinging Bridge crossing Woods Creek, then up over Pinchot Pass (12,086’), to Lake of the Devas (unnamed lake after Lake Margaret). 10.7 miles. 3360’ elevation gain. Sleep at 11,046’.

Leaving my camp this morning, I look happier!
Looking through the slats of the bridge

I slept in a bit this morning, getting out of the tent at 6:45am, which put me on-trail by 7:45 after breakfast and packing. It was all downhill now to the swinging suspension bridge that crosses Woods Creek. What a fun bridge! I played around a bit there, taking some photos, admiring the water below.


Suspension Bridge
Signpost just after the bridge



Note to a fellow PCT hiker under a rock by bridge



















After a quick break on the other side, I shouldered my pack and suddenly there was a woman about my age standing there quietly. “Where on earth do they come from, so silently, unannounced?” I thought. I looked up and she merely said, “I’ll let you go first, I’m slow.” I tried to start a conversation with her, but she seemed disinterested.

After passing this woman called "Grasshopper" repeatedly we finally realized we were moving at a similar pace up this long 7.7 mile climb to Pinchot Pass, a long slow climb of 3800’. It would take a big chunk of the day. I attempted again to engage her in conversation. She has two daughters around the age of my two oldest sons, and she’s retired. She is a PCT hiker who walked all the way to this point and then had to go off-trail for two weeks to heal, having gotten herself stuck in the snow field on the north side of Glen Pass two weeks ago. Once stuck by post-holing in the snow up to her groin she wiggled forward and back to free her legs, using her poles to try to extract herself. Stuck is not a good place to be on a mountain pass! She struggled, and basically pulled her ligaments that hold the pelvic muscles in place, thus creating S-I-Joint problems in the lower hips. Another day later of painful hiking and she took the first trail out, going home for several cortisone shots in these locations of her pelvis. She was walking with noticeable pain now.

We didn’t talk long. I even offered to carry some of her gear. After a period of silence I went on alone. I saw her again at the top of Pinchot Pass and then again at a lake down on the other side, but never again after that. I sent her prayers for a speedy recovery and in hopes that she might actually be able to complete her dream of making it to Canada this year.




These photos taken in the early part of the day before the dark clouds rolled in. This is looking up at Pinchot Pass where I am headed and trying to cross today.



By mid-afternoon we heard on the trail-grapevine that the darkening sky above might bring a thunder storm and some showers, so all hikers seemed to now have an increased pace and a sense of urgency. I put myself into high gear, because I wanted to cross that pass today. One should not cross if such a storm comes in, because you are at the high spot, ready for a lightning bolt! I put myself into overdrive and pushed on, up the mountain, breathing in and out with a cadence like running a Half-Marathon. My regular breathing gave me a sense of tempo, almost comforting, and I marched on up, watching the clouds. Once at the Pass there were a few drops of rain, and the three of us hikers up there at that time donned rain gear. I stayed watching the incredible power of the sky for a half-hour, carful to watch for lightening. It wasn't dangerous but it was dramatic, and made a lovely display!

 

 


Lots and lots of flowers on the way up this Pass! I couldn't help taking photos.

Me at the Pass, raingear on but the clouds are lifting.

Another hiker on the Pass, raingear on

Finally I walked down the north side of the pass, coming to Lake Marjorie. It drained out on the north end into a shallow drainage, with the water out-flow being some 75’ across. The next little lake down in elevation had no name but was incredibly lovely. I stopped there to take a rest, and couldn’t tear myself away. I named it Lake of the Devas, and pitched my tent at around 7:00pm after sitting and meditating for a good while. Again I looked this evening for a site that would accommodate two small tents, and left a note on the trail with PILLSBURY written on it with a left arrow to direct her to my location, should she make it that far. I was enjoying very much all this glorious time alone, but I also didn’t want to miss her if she might hike right on by.
 
Looking down from Pinchot Pass to Lake Marjorie below

Note the tower or rocks, called a rock cairn, to help us find the trail in these rocky areas

The stream runoff from Lake Marjorie above came into this lake, and I walked out into the middle of the drainage, since it was so shallow with lots of rocks all around, and sat there, first filtering my evening water and then reading and meditating some more. Water rushed by on both sides, and on the left was a huge, dramatic rock wall. I felt so surrounded by the beauty of nature once again, so enriched and alive.
Taking a rest stop and checking my maps (under rock to keep the wind from taking them)

Field of shooting stars on the way up to Pinchot Pass. I just LOVE these fields!

Sky Pilot flower again on Pinchot Pass, and this is the last time I will see this beauty  on this trip. It only grows at very high elevations.

I ate ,my dinner, buttoned up the bear canister, and got into my tent. Guess what? I found my tiny keychain flashlight today! It is only about 1” long and ¼” wide and weighs 0.3 ounces and was hanging on the outside of my pack where “I wouldn’t lose it!” All these days I’ve gone without it (and successfully, too), but now it’s nice to have the light after dark. I read my book about women saints of India and journaled until about 9:30. All I hear is the rushing water from the stream I sat in a bit earlier tonight. All is well in every cell and breath, and I fall quickly to sleep.
Lake Marjorie as I draw closer, and it always amazes me how quickly I come upon these after dropping down from the passes.

What I've called Lake of the Divas, where I will spend the night.

Lake of the Divas near my tent site looking down canyon (N)