Social Distancing Family Hike on the JMT/PCT

 

Girls atop Goodale Pass

In an attempt to get away from all this Covid-19 malaise I took 4/6ths of my family on a trip to the John Muir and Ansel Adams Wildernesses.  We hiked very hard, but had a great experience and were able to live in our own moment, if only for a few days, before we were whisked back to reality.

My oldest daughter's scout troop secured a permit for this trek, but then the troop made the collective decision to not proceed.  Offered the chance to use the permit outside of the troop activity, we were happy to oblige.  This was our first hike on the John Muir Trail (JMT) and second hike on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) hike this summer, with an earlier trip to Crater Lake, OR featuring this same cast of characters.  On that occasion we hiked 28 miles in four days.  For this trip, we added a day, and totaled about 42ish miles.  We're not quite sure on the total because we have conflicting data from different maps, GPS, etc.

The hike began with a challenging drive along one of the sketchiest paved roads one might encounter.  Heading up from Fresno past Huntington Lake and onto the Kaiser Pass Road, we wound our way through Mono Hot Springs and onto the Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR).  And by resort I mean "last resort."  This was no Sandals (tm), but I gather most of the clientele at VVR like it that way.  It had all the necessities of a hiker stop over.  They supplied good hot meals through their restaurant; had a convenience store selling single batteries, razors; and Ziploc bags; hot showers; a free camping zone; laundry services; and a ferry that ran across a great big fake lake (Thomas Edison) so that threadbare and weary JMT and PCT thru-hikers wouldn't have to log the extra miles to make it to camp.  The staff there was very friendly and folks were generally complying with Covid precautions, which was heartening considering the remoteness.

We slept in a National Forest campground directly adjacent to VVR.  In the morning we opted to avoid the ferry across the lake, due to Covid concerns, and instead started our hike from the Mono Creek trailhead in earnest along the North side of the lake.  It was a pretty hike, open to the sun and a bit rocky with all the granite.  (Note to self:  consider dispersed camping/fishing at one of the sites along the shore there.)  But the extra miles we put in added up.  After the steep climb from Quail Meadow we opted against completing our initial first day goal of reaching Silver Pass Lake, and instead opted to camp the first night at Pocket Meadow.  We had passed many hikers along the way, mostly southbound JMT thru-hikers.  Not quite used to the 10,000 ft elevations that first day, our lungs told us it was time to turn it in.

Our campsite was serene, in the middle of a big grassy meadow.  The dinner was a backpacker's vegan curry I pulled off the internet and put together in a bag.  It was delicious, but a bit spicy for my 10 and 13 year old daughters.  A very bright full moon kept us from sleeping very well that night.  Shame on the Moon!

The next day it was up and over Silver Pass, with sweeping views in all directions of the vast Sierra Nevada Mountains.  The jagged peaks in our immediate area were a stunning foreground for scenery and background for our photos.  We were short of breath as we former Coloradans-turned-flatlanders sat at elevation for lunch, recovering from the last few switchbacks of our ascent.  We eventually camped at a much lower elevation, down along a waterfall beneath a bridge on the creek that lead through Tully's hole.  We took refreshing dips in the cold water.  Let's say I have been in colder water, but this was still more than just chilly on my freeze-o-meter.  Felt great on hot swollen feet though!

Day three brought with it a couple rainbow trout at Virginia and Purple Lakes.  After a morning up from Tully's hole, we had lunch at Virginia lake featured peanut butter and jelly pitas, jerky, assorted dried fruits, and lemonade.  While my daughter sunned on her towel I caught a 10 inch rainbow trout using 3/4 of my backpacker's fly rod, then end piece having been left at home.  We set that one free and set out on the last leg of our hike that day - to Purple Lake.  Arriving at the lake we faced a challenging quest for a suitable camp spot, but in the end found one just uphill from a nice shore/meadow on the south side of the lake.  I was finally tired enough to sleep despite the glaring moonlight.  Then, at 2:00 a.m. I was rudely awakened from under my tarp by a squirrel who crashed into my head.  It must have been darting down a pre-programmed running route and didn't observe me lying.  After having been once bitten by a ground squirrel years ago, this makes for the second tort that squirrels have committed against me.  I don't know what their problem is, I have never been squirrel hunting so this is not karma.

The fourth day brought the toughest hiking and the biggest test of our spirits.  It started out well enough, with a big down hill hike into a meadow.  We passed giant ponderosa pines and, if I wasn't hallucinating, even a relatively small giant Sequoia.  It was beautiful.  What non hikers might not understand about hiking downhill is that it sometimes can be as challenging as uphill.  There is something about the impact of each descending stride, the toes compressed toward the front of one's boots, and the strain on continuously bent knees that adds up.  So, by the time we finished our 1000 foot drop down to the meadow below we were sore already.  We did get to relax for lunch, but then had to hike right back up onto the mountains on the other side of the valley.  My 10 year old daughter was flagging as the day wore on.  I even helped carry some of her gear so that she could keep a pace.  She had an REI Tarn 40 pack, sized for kids.  We filled it only with her essentials and clothing so that it would be light.  But I basically reduced her load down to the weight of her water, which meant I became "Super Sherpa!"  My feat was not witnessed by many, as we were now off the JMT the constant stream of hikers slowed to a trickle.  We saw two hikers all day.

And, yes, that day kicked my butt.  We passed so many cool lakes that were begging for us to pitch our tent, but we knew we had to press on so that our last day mileage would be feasible.  We rolled up to Lone Indian Lake at 6:30ish.  Kind of a late day for even us.  But it set us up nicely for a pretty sunset and a relatively easy "up" the next morning over Goodale Pass.

On the last day out we finished a long descent back to VVR and our car.  We passed numerous weekenders and a church group who were way overloaded for their hike in to Graveyard Lakes.  A couple young girls with that group called it quits and forced their group to split up in order for the trip to continue.  The trip leader's backpack appeared to hold 160 liter capacity, before you add in the stuff hanging off of it.  Collectively, the group appeared overweight and overloaded.  I wanted to say something but believe firmly in the "hike your own hike" mantra.  Since I didn't perceive any threat to safety I just told them they had a mile to go, uphill, before the next water and I proceeded to hike back to my car.

Arriving back at the trailhead, we loaded up and drove to VVR, where we were greeted with cold beer, a hot meal, and the kindness of the hiking community.  I ordered the roast beef sandwich, my daughters had chili fries and a chicken sandwich and my wife at something healthy.  I was impressed with the fresh veggies at this remote location, for what it's worth.  And, did I mention I had a cold beer?  We were debating staying but there was still enough daylight to escape on the Kaiser Pass road and we as a family were looking forward to a hotel bed and a hot shower.  So, away we drove.

I will totally be going back to this area, there are hungry fish in almost every lake, hot springs that we couldn't even include in our itinerary, and sweeping vistas.  We loved it.  Almost as pretty as Yosemite but not nearly the amount of tourists, particularly when you get off the main JMT/PCT thoroughfare. On the ride home my wife described the mostly contiguous wilderness area created by Yosemite, Ansel Adams and John Muir Wilderness areas, and Sequoia Kings Canyon and it is truly a large are of remote country in the middle of our nation's most populous state.  Well worth a look for hikers.

Gear notes:  I brought with me a home made Tyvek bivy sack.  It was not a smashing success.  The sack developed an unusual amount of condensation on the inside.  No problem on this trip, but when I go out in bad weather I can't afford to have a wet sleeping bag.  Also, I if I did this trip again I would just bring a sack and hang my food in a tree, versus the cumbersome Bear Vaults that we used.  There are enough trees in this area.

 

My daughter excited to finish!

Until next time!

Rangersmith

ME-GA 1997

Dealing with Corona Virus

I was surprised, as always, by how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility. -Jack Kerouac-

I saw a great viral post today on FB about how we are all not in the same boat but we are in the same storm.  Let me tell you about my boat.  I have seen enough in the news to be terrified of this latest version of the Corona Virus - Covid 19.  Doctors and nurses dying while treating myriad cases of patients with serious pneumonia is enough for me to want to keep my body and its asthma history at home.  Knowing that the virus has now become a top killer in our country has to get one's attention.  Otherwise, I can't complain.


My line of work is directly tied to the massive governmental relief operation, so I am fairly certain I'll have a job.  Our grocery store is struggling with inventory, but my family has found a way to stock not only food but fresh produce (and toilet paper).  We've used a number of restaurant supply options and brought home entire boxes of avocados, bunches and bunches of bananas, asparagus, broccoli, yams, and other produce.  So, we are doing relatively well compared to folks in Texas who line up in cars for blocks and blocks awaiting food distribution, or the 20 million folks who've had to file for unemployment.


And I'm doing well in exercise too.  Freed up from the daily commute, I've picked up about two extra hours in each day.  I've been using this to log 20+ miles per week in trail runs, some track work, and jogs on my favorite local footpath.  I've also made sure to go for walks even on my non-running days.  I'm slowly working my way into better shape, but it gets harder with each passing year to recover from months of sloppiness.


My Corona Virus passage is not unique.  I'm in a boat that is skipping across the biggest waves but has a defect that may, at some point, cause it to sink.  Not taking on water, but still subject to peril.  It is unnerving to think about things like whether a will is updated, or whether my wife would have a copy of the password to my IRA.  We're managing, but we have to be vigilant.  This is our current lot.

Even in this moment of "social distancing" and shelter-in-place, we still have freedom if we choose to find it.  Mary and I bolt for the doors and walk a quick 1-2 miles during our lunch breaks during the week.  This merely holds serve and keeps us at something like the level of activity we would normally have.  We don't want to be those folks in the FB memes who talk of gluttony, substance abuse, and obesity as being a natural reaction to our current constraints.  We want to get out, stretch our legs and expand our limited horizons.  We strive to make the most of this trying time.


So, I've been hitting the trails.  King Canyon loop is probably getting sick of me.  This stretch of East Bay Municipal Utilities District land has felt the soles of my shoes for years now.  Beautiful spring wildflowers, turkeys, deer, coyotes, and other fauna are my familiar friends.  But I'm not sure if they are getting used to the other folks coming through in this time of shelter-in-place.  The trailhead parking lots were so crowded that they were closed off, folks still line the nearby streets and walk to gain access to these open spaces.  I used to pass 4 or 5 people in a run, now I pass 4 or 5 people every ten minutes.  It is good to see them out there, and I wonder how much time these same people would be spending in the outdoors if nature was more of a priority in their lives. 


I got a new pair of New Balance trail running shoes and I love them.  They have Vibram soles and felt dreamy in their maiden voyage, a 9 mile run through the Redwood Regional Park.  My biggest complaint was that the soles had such good traction that I actually think they caused more right patellar strain on the downhill runs because they stuck so good in the dirt.  I think my legs were used to a little slippage.

Yeah, that right knee has always been a little more sensitive than the left knee, but here's to hoping it will keep me moving for a few more years before I have to settle for yoga or swimming.  I plan to keep motrin' along until it gives out on me.


Today, Mary and I explored a trail that runs on private ranchland above our house.  The hill has looked down on us for 7 years and we've never thought of challenging it.  Our boys have made the hardscrabble climb up the steep landslide scarred slope that faces their middle school.  They call it the "flag hill" because the rancher used to keep an American flag up there.  But there is a long trail that runs the whole ridgeline to nearby Orinda and has great views in most all directions.  Today, Mt. Diablo was in full view and we could actually see across the great Central Valley of California all the way to the Sierra Nevada Mountains.  The trail was lined with California poppy and other wildflowers.  A bottle of wine and some beet salad made for a great lunch.  The desert was rock hopping with my 10 year old daughter.


So, I'm sweating off a couple pounds, trying hard to keep a diet that is somewhat close to vegan, and enjoying springtime in Northern California.  Feeling about as unnerved as one can be as one who "can't complain."  I want to say "this too shall pass" but that is the unnerving thing, will it?  I hope.

New Year, New Opportunity

I've been gone for a while.  A promotion at work, back surgery, and 4 kids are what's been keeping me busy.  But I am looking forward to a springtime of outdoor activity in the Bay Area and beyond.


I decided to write again because I have news.  I switched to a vegan diet in the beginning of the year!  My son was prompted by his health teacher to make improvements in his life and he made the switch over a year ago.  But since I'm the middle-aged guy with a father who died of heart problems at 42, I figured I should give it a try.  My dietary switch worked very well.  Two aspects to consider are that my total cholesterol dropped 22 points and I think I have become a faster runner.


The running part is not as objectively quantifiable as the cholesterol, but today I ran a loop that I have run often over the years and saw improvement.  I had not run in three weeks and had run only sporadically before that, and yet I came within one minute of my personal best on this particular loop.  This, despite stopping for a photo and running in deep slippery mud for certain stretches.  Normally, when I get back into running in the usual fits and starts, I am slower for weeks before I start to improve.  But here, I wasn't even looking for a personal best and wonder if I could not have beaten it if I had not tried.  So, it is really great news for me and it does support the notion that vegan is not a downgrade for your health.


For vegan purists and animal lovers, I have to be candid, I still plan on elk hunting this fall and after Vegan January I may well grab a chicken sandwich or a spare piece of bacon.  But I honestly believe that, forever for me, I will not be ingesting as much animal-based protein and fats.


Anyway, happy to be back on the trail again.  Big Sur Marathon is only three months away!


Dan

http://www.latimes.com/local/lanow/la-me-yosemite-opens-fires-20180815-story.html

Almost a Wilderness Trip

Mary and I finally got away on a last-minute hashed together effort to explore the woods again.  Aware of the Perseid Meteor showers this week, we resolved to get our out-of-shape selves into the Desolation Wilderness.  Far from the madding crowds, far from the bright city lights.  We set out to wash our faces in starlight.

Originally planned as a 7:00 a.m. departure and a hike into the Rockbound Lake area, we settled for a 1:00 p.m. departure and a stop short at Buck Island lake.  Driving about 3.5 hours from Moraga, we hit the trail much later than hoped and shortened our distance to 7ish miles in and then back out the next morning.  It almost seemed like too hectic of a plan.  How does one enjoy the wilderness when the coming and going subjects oneself to the famed red tail lights of California?  But, I must say, I found my Zen.  If only for a moment, I was happy to be there...then.

Well, temporary Zen, perhaps.  Our dispersed campsite was on a rock outcropping by a big old broken cedar (?) across a lake from the end of the "Rubicon Trail", a famous place (?) where off road vehicle enthusiast's subject their otherwise pavement bound machines to the primitive wilds of the earth.  Jeeps and other 4 WD vehicles clamber over boulders well into the evening.  Aided by those roll bar topping lights, the purpose of which previously had always escaped me, they clanked and grinded gears well into the night.  Where the track they were driving on meandered in our direction their lights pointed right at us.  Our campsite was, to borrow a term from the Urban Dictionary, "Lit" from top to bottom.  We had light beams both shining straight at us and reflecting up at us from the lake.  I felt like Julia Louis-Dreyfuss character in "Christmas Vacation" when Clark Griswold turned his exterior Christmas lights on.

But I must say that it was entertaining listening to a guy curse at his stuck Jeep from across the small lake.  Sound carries almost as well as light across open water.  And it all just reinforced my love of cheaper hobbies.  We continued to watch in amusement as we ate dinner.  Turkey sandwiches and Pinot Noir, now that is more like it.

Mary got tired early and I can't say I blame her for wanting to turn it in.  I spent entirely too much of the twilight, turned low light, trying to figure out the how to operate my camera on high ISO settings, necessary for night photos.  But once I did I started taking some good night shots (see attached images).  I snapped and snapped away.  I started figuring things out after many missed shots including some images that had potential, but look too grainy, pixelated, over exposed, or underexposed.  I am going to have to do my homework on how to better capture shooting stars on my Canon 60D.  But even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in awhile.  After seeing countless meteors rain from the heavens only to escaped my camera's pixels, I think I caught one.  See if you can find it in the night images attached.

It was a mild dry night, so we left our tent's rain fly off.  Looking up through the screen, we could see shooting starts at least once per minute.  A few little critters moved through our site while we slept, but none of the Sierras mischievous black bears.   My first night sleeping outdoors is usually a restless affair, but I slept fine on the soft ground when I wasn't screwing around with my camera.

Up early, a quick cup of tea and some oatmeal, and back on the trail.  We moved fast, turning a 3 hour hike in, into a 2 hour hike out.  That's what 10 degrees cooler temperatures and a net drop in elevation over 7 miles would do. 

Overall, I consider this a pleasant trip.  You'll hear boomboxes coming from the road across Loon Lake when you first head in and, as discussed, more disturbing off road vehicle noises at night.  I would definitely recommend getting an earlier start and pushing a few miles deeper into the Desolation Wilderness area.  Some online posts said that our initial destination of Rockbound Lake wouldn't even have been enough to get away from the noise, so plan an initial ten mile hike, which shouldn't be too tough on this generally sand, gravel and pine duff trail.

Summit Day on Summit Trail

Back from the dead.  After a crazy busy stretch I finally have a chance to do two things together, hike and write about hiking.


Mary and I celebrated National Summit Day by hiking the Summit Trail from the South Gate entrance at Mt. Diablo State Park.  As we went to bed the night before we noted a "smoke" advisory on our IPhone weather app.  We were not disappointed.  We got up at first light and drove under a hazy grey layer of smoke at about 3,000 feet above us.   Arriving at the South Gate of Mt. Diablo State Park, we found the gate to be locked, as we expected at 6:15 a.m. (it opens at 8).  We drove back down the access road to a spot where we could legally park without being either on the road surface or on private property (we think).


The reason why one must leave early is because all it does is get hot up there as the days goes on.  The more climbing you can get in before that sunlight gets direct, the cooler you will stay and the more enjoyable the experience.  We enjoyed a cool breeze drifting down our side of the mountain in the early morning, which felt great.


The trail climbs directly from a grassy area through a forest of holly, oak, and bay laurel, before moving to an area of madrone and slash pine(?).  Poison oak can appear anywhere, so be sure to stay on the trail if you do this hike.  Deer and turkey move freely about, and coyote scat appears on the trail.  I found a giant pine cone with nuts still in it, the squirrels must be slacking at their jobs!  Not sure if they were of an edible variety, I left it.  I then replied to the cooing of a mourning dove.  Peace.


Perhaps not even two miles up the trail we came to a campground that had running water and even functioning showers.  We enjoyed the fresh water, but had brought enough for our needs even without it.  The first of the mountain bikers climbed past us here.  I am not even sure what trails they can ride on, but they became more and more frequent as the day went on.


Taking a fortuitous wrong turn after the campground, we arrived at Sentinel Rock and relaxed for a snack.  The morning light was still at a shallow angle and helped light up our photos and our smiles.


Getting back on the trail, we encountered a few more hikers and numerous mountain bikers.  Mary noted that she only saw one other woman, day hiking up from the camp ground with her husband.  We ascended onto a ridge with sweeping views to the south and west.  Underneath the grey layer of smoke we could see Mt. Tamalpais in the distance.


Because of a medical condition that arose, we cut our trip short.  We did not make the Summit of Mt. Diablo for National Summit Day.  Discretion was the better part of valor.  We are back at home and were very happy to cover a little over half of our stated 14 mile objective.  It was a better morning than most Americans had today, in terms of hiking and being outdoors.  Every day in the woods is a good day and the journey is always more important than the destination.


Mary and I both felt relaxed.  That was a good thing.  School is starting up soon enough and we'll be right back in the thick of it before too long.


Until Next time...