"Mile... Mile and a Half"

This documentary was just a wee teaser when we started thinking about including the John Muir Trail in our summer-long honeymoon in 2012. I had never heard of this 220-mile stretch of God's Country, named for John Muir. I had never heard of John Muir. I had never considered hiking that far. But the images these artists captured on their 25-day hike amazed me. This was a real, attainable experience. These views were not fiction.

Ben and I just watched the full documentary, now available for renting and purchasing on iTunes. You should watch it. The memories I've lived through the past few weeks spent recounting my trail journal were amplified by the sights I was able to relive with this documentary. The year we hiked, there was no snow. At all. So that's a major difference from their experience (i.e. we had trails to follow on the passes).

Life changing.

Journal pages, no. 14

July 22, 2012 | Day 14 | 14.2 mi: 

Sleeping at the trail crest of Whitney. Three in the tent w/ Ben & Alex - Dustin sleeping outside. Ranger Ron (gave seven us shelter from a hail storm in his one-room cabin, which was decorated with mementos people illegally leave atop Mt. Whitney). Hail / down pour (the only bad weather we experienced in two weeks). Tarp / tent city (between storms, we hiked to Guitar Lake at the base of Whitney. There, a tent city had been erected by hikers of all kinds. We sat under a tarp with new friends and couple more strangers, eating the last of Alex & Dustin's food so they could join us in hiking with as little as humanly possible. Refried beans and spicy sausage were a bad choice).

*problems with photos, will update*

 1. Early in the day, while the sky was still clear-ish, we hiked across this amazing plain. We WILL camp there the next time we hike the JMT. || 2. The view from Ranger Ron's doorway. Ranger Ron's wife is also a ranger stationed about 8 miles from him. The meet up on their days off. Living the dream. || 3. Once the hail stopped, we high-tailed it to Guitar Lake, where it started pouring rain again. We sat under this tarp with Dustin (pictured) and Alex. || 4. The obscured view of Mt. Whitney's peak after the rain stopped. The clouds hovered thickly all night. || 5. After we were sure the rain was done, we hiked up to Trail Crest, from which point it is up to the summit or down to the parking lot at Whitney Portal. This was truly the beginning of the end and I took my time on the switchbacks, stopping to gawk at this amazing sunset over endless mountains that we would say goodbye to in the morning. I thought it looked like Mt. Doom. Now I just miss it like crazy. 

Day 15 has no entry and none of its own pictures, so I'm going to end here. Because of a lightning storm that lasted all night and kept Whitney's summit obscured, we opted to hike the 8 miles down rather than pursue those last 1,500 vertical feet to the highest point in the lower-48. We made this decision around 3 a.m., after not sleeping at all. Three people in a two-man tent will do that. By 3:30-ish we were descending the 99 switchbacks as seas of headlamps moved toward us - hikers coming from Whitney Portal to attempt the summit. Some starting the hike we just finished. We got down several hours later - longer than it should have taken - because downhill exacerbated my knee / achilles issues and we were delirious. Still, we finished the JMT before noon - probably around 10. We waved down a hitch for our friends Alex & Dustin who found renewed energy in the possibility of hopping a bus to LA and flying home to Seattle early. We were sad to part so suddenly. We learned they made it all the way home that day. It made us laugh, imagining them sitting trail filthy on a plane out of Los Angeles. We caught a different ride down to Lone Pine, a small town that sits between Death Valley and Mt. Whitney. We ate McDonald's. And Subway. And a pizza. And smoothies. We lost time in our hotel room as we drifted in and out of sleep. I showered twice and tried to rinse my clothes because we had no others to put on. I hiked for 14 days in one set of clothes, and I still own them and wear them today. Finally, my ankles swelled until they blended with my calves, and they remained swollen for about two weeks. I likely had tendonitis. Why they didn't swell after I laid down each night on trail, I'll never know, but that would have forced us to get off, so I'll take is as a miracle. A day and a half after we got off the trail, our friends from Redding, CA drove to Lone Pine to pick us up and take us to our car in Yosemite. We slept in our cars for a few hours then ate breakfast looking out at Half Dome - the same view we saw the day we started our hike. Full circle. 

Reliving this adventure has renewed my spirit. Thanks for reading. Currently I sit in a coffee shop, fighting back the few tears that make me feel so alive. Sometimes I get caught up in my day - my week. I get excited about potential job promotions and chances to fulfill my dreams as a writer. I make plans with friends to eat pizza and watch movies. But today I'm wearing a suit coat over a flannel shirt and I wish I was hiking with Ben - he's hiking right now. I would take a hail storm with a smile. When I strip everything away, I realize that circumstances have little to do with happiness. Jobs do not bring purpose. Life is purposeful because I was made for it - whatever it brings on any given day. I was made to feel lonely in a crowded coffee shop and like a social butterfly in a cabin of strangers in the middle of nowhere. Life is full of so many different opportunities that add up to a crazy adventure. Today I'll alphabetize and shelf books at Half Price. I'll interview a source for my first freelance story that has a publication it will call home. And when I close my eyes, I'll see that sunset over Guitar Lake that made me realize, even then, when all I wanted was a burger and a bed, that as soon as I was full and healthy, I would miss this trail. I miss that trail. I wish I was there. I'm glad that I'm here. I would not be who or where I am today without these 14 days. 

Peace.

*This is day 14 of 14, recounting our experience hiking the John Muir Trail by posting the contents of my recently rediscovered trail journal. We hiked the trail in July 2012, and it changed my life. Catch up by reading the JMT journal pages nos. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Journal pages, no. 13

July 21, 2012 | Day 13 | 20 miles:

We hiked over Glenn and Forester passes today. In total, we've hiked about 192 miles - 200 if you add the few miles we tacked on by starting at Glacier Point. Whoa. I really didn't know I could do this. Ben said something interesting today about waiting until I can motivate myself. I know I am relying fully on God for strength (mental, physical), but he's still right. I'm not relying on Ben because he gave me several chances to get out. Yet he's wrong because it is paramount that he believe I can do this. He's not dragging me, but he's not hiking all of this for me, either. I get to wash my hands in 2 days (ahem...with real soap and hot water instead of cold water and hand sanitizer). Tomorrow we hike to the base of Whitney with two guys we're camping next to - both go to school in Seattle, but one was born in Arden Hills, MN. Small world. Whiteny Portal the next afternoon ---> Lone Pine for tons of good food and a motel room. Unbelievable that we've come this far and we're finishing strong. A guy said today that we picked a hard trail for our first time in the Sierras. Perfect.

*problems with photos; will update*

1. We hiked Glenn Pass first thing in the morning, joining a few others. The top of the pass was a narrow spine with few places to sit and soak it in. Just after starting the descent of this pass, we met some hikers out for a few days (on their last day) who gave us a bunch of their food. Thanks, gents. || 2. We hiked to Forester Pass. This is a lake just below the pass. We're hiking up to 13,000 feet here, so everything is rock with little bits of green shrubs. || 3 - 4. We reached the pass in time for clouds to settle in, bringing our first bit of bad weather: a hail storm. We were pelted with little pebble-sized hail as we descended. || 5. We managed a few minutes at the top of Forester to take a break, as usual. Ben was pooped. That's the sleeping pad someone gave him at the resort we stopped at a few days back.

This is day 13 of 14, recounting our experience hiking the John Muir Trail by posting the contents of my recently rediscovered trail journal. We hiked the trail in July 2012, and it changed my life. Catch up by reading the JMT journal pages nos. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Journal pages, no. 12

July 20, 2012 | Day 12 | 24 miles: 

Pinchot - Check. Only Glenn & Forrester passes left - then Whitney. We keep dreaming about food as we hike. We're pretty much down to just dinners left, so we need a miracle. Food or the Lord's energy, either way we're done in just a couple of days. Got my period today - was praying against that (ladies, here's what I use. And I couldn't recommend it more, though it does take getting used to. I figure, if you're already not showering for 14 days, you kinda have to get over stuff like this). 

*problems with photos; will update*

1. A cool bridge || 2. Our camp site at Ray Lakes, just below Glen Pass || 3. Leaving Ray Lakes the next morning 

This is day 12 of 14, recounting our experience hiking the John Muir Trail by posting the contents of my recently rediscovered trail journal. We hiked the trail in July 2012, and it changed my life. Catch up by reading the JMT journal pages nos. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Journal pages, no. 11

*problems with photos; will update*

1. Looking back from the Golden Staircase on the way to Mather Pass. We hiked that entire thing on this day - Muir Pass to Mather Pass through a forest. This is the day we met a PCT hiker from Vail who told great stories, including one about a man who scared a grizzly with his trekking poles. || 2. Filling water at the meadow after the Golden Staircase, which is exactly what it sounds like: giant stairs made from rocks that went on F O R E V E R. || 3. Lots of lovely wildflowers along the trail. || 4. Looking ahead from Mather Pass. We camped near one of those visible lakes - in the shadow. The terrain felt like the moon. Not that I've been to the moon. But we slept just below 12,100 ft (the elevation of Mather Pass), so obviously there was little vegetation. 

July 19, 2012 | Day 11 | 23 miles:  

Made it to Mather Pass today after really wanting to get off the trail this morning. Eight blisters total on my left foot. Haven't counted my right. Both my achilles. My left knee at the day's start. But I want to finish - Ben & I both know that. So, so thankful for an active God. This is truly a test of my endurance and will mean big things for our marriage. "I may be weak, but your Spirit's strong in me."

On enduring something I was really, really bad at:

I've mentioned a couple of times that I considered getting off the trail in the middle of it. It was hard and I was not great at it. In the end, I'm proud of the way I fought pain and frustration, continuing on until the bitter end. But I wish my attitude had been better (so does Ben). I realize now, looking back, that I had never been bad at anything before, and that was the real struggle. I'm no golden child, but, up to this point, I'd managed 22 years of coasting through tasks and experiences many others muddled through. I got a job in journalism as a freshman and was promoted every year. I graduated high school with great grades I didn't really work for, and even with a full time job during college, I pulled off Cs or better in every class. I played varsity soccer when I wanted to.

These are random samples, but you get the point. Hiking was so, so different than anything I had ever experienced because I have life really easy. The tasks weren't easy, but for some reason I was pre-determined to excel at a rate that made me average at most things. This feels like bragging, but I actually think anyone who had to struggle is probably a better, more interesting person now. Any time, I encountered resistance, I side-stepped the issue. Friends. Personal problems. New skills. I never learned an instrument because I didn't practice, satisfied to skate by, fumbling for notes and melodies and theory that I was lucky enough to understand but not willing to put in the work to apply. I took the shortest, fastest, most direct route out of trouble every time. Guess what? You can't do that when you're 110 miles into a 210 mile trail and your only ride is waiting for you 100 miles and six days down the way.

For the first time ever I was challenged to admit I was failing at something and choose to keep going - to muddle through. Do you know what that's like? I hope so because it feels difficult to explain - and arrogant to admit. I was not prepared to come face to face with inadequacy. In the end, I did not give up, and that is a huge accomplishment. It wasn't because I coasted through, like everything else in life. I worked really hard. I fought a lot of demons that berated me and laughed at me. So when I say I hiked 220 miles and you think "Whoa, I could never do that," I encourage you to ask if you want to. If you want to, you can do it. You just might have the same problem I did. You'll have a more meaningful experience in the long run if you have to constantly tell yourself you want to be there. In the end, I was not a pro hiker, but I learned - first of all, I learned something that I had to consider and apply rather than memorize and regurgitate. I learned that I want to hike because it will take practice, and I want to spend my time doing something that surprises, challenges, excites, and humbles me. Being bad at something is truly the first step toward being good at something.





This is day11 of 14, recounting our experience hiking the John Muir Trail by posting the contents of my recently rediscovered trail journal. We hiked the trail in July 2012, and it changed my life. Catch up by reading the JMT journal pages nos. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Journal pages, no. 10

July 18, 2012, Day 10 - 19 miles: 

We plan to be out in four days. Sleeping in a shelter at Muir Pass. Met a guy from Fargo (grew up there). Took all day to reach the pass. Storm tomorrow? Can't decide to pray for or against - for if it let's us sleep in. Against if it's midday. The hike to this pass was seriously beautiful. Met a bunch of southbounders - two college girls, an art teacher from Alaska. Strength, please.

#favorite_day

1. We knew we would be uphill all day, hiking to Muir Pass, but from morning til evening, the sights were beautiful. This waterfall was the beginning. || 2. This was the first stream we had to walk through. Freezing! On the other side, we met the Alaskan art teacher. || 3. Muir Pass seemed in sight for a long time - especially once we got up to this alpine area. We still had several miles to go. || 4. A lovely stone crossing & Ben scouting the map. || 5. Another panorama of the area. Have I mentioned Muir Pass was our favorite? || 6. The hut we slept in (though you're not supposed to). Just. Wow. || 7. An inside view of the hut - no working fireplace, though I have no idea where you would get wood, if it did work. We slept on the benches.

Journal pages, no. 9

July 17, 2012 - Day 9 - 23.5 miles:

*problems with photos; will update*

1. Meadows like this added so much contrast to the experience. Hiking from forests and meadows to treeless alpine areas was striking. || 2. Pano right before reach Selden Pass || 3. Someone had the 100th mile marked at Selden Pass. It was about right, as far as we could tell. I can't even explain how amazing that felt. || 4. Heart Lake panorama - it's really shaped like a heart! A beautiful sight right after hiking down from Selden Pass.

Today we thought: What if we finished by Saturday? It's Tuesday. We have a lot of hard passes ahead of us, but we both felt great today and passed the 100 mile mark. The lakes after Seldon [sic] Pass were incredible. We're still feeling good, but my knee feels stiff. Please, Lord, be my joints.

This is day 9 of 14, recounting our experience hiking the John Muir Trail by posting the contents of my recently rediscovered trail journal. We hiked the trail in July 2012, and it changed my life. Catch up by reading the JMT journal pages nos. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8

Journal pages, no. 8

July 16, 2012, Day 8 - 1.4 miles:  

We caught the ferry to Vermillion Valley Resort (VVR). A great group of weekend backpackers paid for our one-way $11 ferry ride (we realized after they ate breakfast and left). The lunch was incredible. A man gave Ben his sleeping pad. We met 3 other southbounders - 2 of them stayed the night (Noah's Arc and Ice Man). Amble On hiked back to the trailhead with us. He's 70 y.o. Trail Magic Monday!

*problems with photos; will update*

Cleaning up after dinner, waiting for the next morning's ferry to VVR.

On food:

As we approached this hike, the food situation baffled us. We had done plenty of personal research on thru-hiking, so we understood the concept of restocks and food packages, but on other trails, particularly, the Appalachian Trail, restocking options often come with towns with grocery stores, so planning food for your entire trip isn't necessary. The JMT is very isolated because access to most nearby towns requires a hefty hike out of the Sierras via a mountain pass. Also, because it's bear country, every hiker is required to carry a bear-proof container of some kind for food and other smellables. The exception is Mammoth Lakes, a mountain town with easy access because of Devil's Postpile National Monument, which sits on or near the trail. For a few bucks, hikers can take a bus into Mammoth, where food and gear stores abound. For us, Mammoth was Day 5 of the hike. 

A short hike from there is Vermillion Valley Resort, which is a resort on a lake that runs on generators and caters to hikers and fishermen. They drive three hours to the next viable town / city to buy supplies each week. They have a corner store-style market that has some useful essentials for hikers, but you're at the mercy of what they think you'll want or need. They also have food barrels where hikers can unload unwanted or unnecessary food they were carrying. The barrels' contents are up for grabs to anyone coming in looking for food. We didn't plan to stop at VVR, but because of Ben's sleeping pad, we made a detour. We had restocked in Mammoth, but decided to check through the bins and replenish once again while we had access to a store. Our mission was a sleeping pad, which they didn't carry. We were blessed by serious trail magic as we encountered a man who was eager to help us in any way he could find, which happened to include gifting a foam sleeping pad to Ben. It would never make the go-lite list, but he could sleep, and we could continue our trek. Our plan A was to find a hitch to take us three hours to the nearest gear shop and another to take us three hours back to the trail. 

Another couple of days from VVR, we passed the Muir Trail Ranch. This place holds your resupply bucket in exchange for $55 when you get there. The effort they put into bringing in your resupply (via USPS in a 5 gallon bucket) is commendable and probably worth the money, but also sucks. The ranch is also considered the halfway point on the trail, so by deciding to pass it and it's high-priced luxuries by, we were committing to make the rest of the hike with what we had in our bear vaults. If you click the link, you'll see that the ones we packed (on the left) are half the size of those we saw carried by everyone else. So by skipping the ranch, we were committed to hauling it.

We experienced great things with our food choices, though. Not the food, per say... altitude and strenuous activity tends to mess with an appetite. The entire trip, we survived on cheese, crackers, gorp, snickers, starbursts, jolly ranchers, tortillas, and peanut butter. For dinner, we always cooked. We shared Pasta Sides or the random freeze-dried meal. My favorite was mashed potatoes and stuffing. We never ate enough, but we survived. Ben learned to pay attention to his intake because he would suddenly crash and require an immediate sugar burst. We dreamed about fast food like crazy, memorizing our orders for when we finished the trail. We reminisced about MN State Fair food with a guy we met from Minnesota.

Sorry, I got sidetracked - we experienced great things because of our food. No. 1, we learned to embrace trade-offs. We chose to hike light, and we owned that choice. No. 2, we made friends with people who offered us some of their food. No. 3, we learned that when you have the space to fill, you'll fill it, even with crappy food you'll never want to eat. And it will go bad. More than once, we were offered food by people who were dying to give it away to lighten their packs. One of them gave us moldy cheese. Another gave us a gallon-size bag of granola. These were people out there for four days, max, carrying more food than we carried at any given point in our 14-day trip. No. 4, we received tons of compliments on the size of our packs, including from a ranger who wondered if we could possibly have bear-proof containers at all. While hiking, it's our goal to go without. It made us more thankful for kindness, friendship, and food. It gave us something to laugh about. It made for great memories. We focused on what we were doing - hiking sunrise to sunset - and we loved it. We also learned that "food is fuel" is not our mantra. We love delicious food. At home, that's fresh cooked with fresh ingredients. On trail, it's fat and sugar in any form we can get it. It's interesting to see the difference access and privilege make in meal planning.




Catch up: read the JMT journal pages nos. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7

Journal pages, no. 7

July 15, 2012, Day 7 - 16.4 miles:

Ben's air mattress popped, so we planned to get to the Vermillion Resort tonight to find him a new one. We missed the ferry by 5 mins. So now we wait til the morning. But it gave us some time to map out the last 100 miles and explore this little beach / lake area. The rock & sand feel great on my feet. We built a fire and don't have to wake up at 6. It's been a very relaxing day - and still 16 mi. Productive! Thank the Lord for sand that will make a mattress-less sleep a little less painful. "And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." James 1:4

*problems with photos; will update*

1. Good morning hike around a lake. || 2. This is a rock chair. || 3. On top of Silver Pass. || 4/5/6. Dinner, water, bonfire on a beach, watching the sun set and waiting for the the morning ferry to VR.

Journal pages, no. [6]

July 14, 2012, Day 6 - 14.5 miles: 

Rest day (no. 5) was necessary and perfect. We restocked food, ate Subway & Dominoes, and found new shoes @ Footloose. Kevin (?) helped me - found out my shoes were too small! He's a real foot guy, just like I prayed for. My feet are still sore and blistered, but at least they aren't getting worse. Appetite improved today. We started around noon and got into camp 6.5 hours later. Moved more quickly for longer stretches.

Of course, today is entry no. 5, but it was day 6 of our trip, so it's less confusing if the title matches the day, am I right? No pictures from this day, I guess not, according to my file dates. But you can check out days 1, 2, 3, & 4. Lots of pictures there.

Journal pages, no. 4

1. Just crossed Island Pass, our second pass of the trail (and of the day). || 2. A neat bridge + proof that "all down hill" doesn't exist. Hike up, up, up; gasp at the view of a mountain and a lake; hike down, down, down.

July 12, 2012, Day 4 - 22 miles: 

More blisters - shoes too small? Rest day tomorrow in Mammoth IF we hiked 22 miles today. Mosquitoes chased us last 5 miles. We literally ran. Trail magic: air mattress, shared space (& tent!) from Jim & Jan (and Jan). Unbelievable kindness. 

The journal entry is remarkably short, and the pictures few, about this day. It was a big day: my first 20-miler. Halfway through I could not believe we still had so far to go, but we had set a goal to spend the next day off-trail restocking food and saving my feet from the ridiculous blisters I was getting. My biggest regret is not taking a picture of our Trail Angels. Jim & Jan are loyal Californians who recognized my delirium and our lack of camping space, fed us, gave us bug spray, and let us sleep in their extra tent rather than set up ours in the dark. Angels. But I'm very timid when it comes to asking someone to take their picture. Still, we'll never forget them. And, again, the ridiculously hard time of hiking ALL DAY was more than worth it in the end.


If you're interested, you can read my journal from days 1, 2, & 3.

Journal pages, no. 3

1. First sighting of Donahue Pass || 2. After climbing up out of the meadow, we came to this stream, which gets its water from the lake we would hike to that night - also visible in picture 5. || 3. A panorama of that area. The sight was shocking after spending all the earlier miles in forests and meadows. We were really gaining altitude. || 4. Ben filled his water bottle here - no filter necessary. || 5. A panorama of our campsite that night. || 6. This lake was just below our campsite - crystal clear and freezing cold. We captured it in the morning light before starting out on day four.

On mountain passes: 

Day 3 meant hiking our first mountain pass - this one, Donahue Pass, led us out of Yosemite and into Inyo National Forest. The thought made my stomach hurt, which led to two lost hiking hours beside a creek (a seriously beautiful creek that I do not have pictures of), debating whether I had the guts to keep going. I remember telling Ben, Maybe this is how we'll grow as a couple, by failing at something, and forgiving me for it. He was devastated, but I couldn't shake the gnawing emptiness in my stomach. At this point, my appetite was non-existent during the day. Fear, maybe? Survival instincts? Anyway, I looked at Donahue Pass on the map and really wondered if I was going to make it. If we crossed over that first pass, I was committed to 12 more. I knew that. I had only hiked one mountain before, Longs Peak, and it kicked my butt. Was I committing two weeks to feeling like that every day? I had to ask the question, and, really, I had to find the answer for myself. The truth was mixed, but we can wait for those sorts of details... for now, here's Day 3 of my trail journal. If you haven't already, you can read Days 1 & 2 and see their associated photos. The introduction to this little trip down memory lane is available on Day 1.

July 11, 2012, Day 3 - 14 miles: 

We hiked 5 miles. We almost turned around (seriously - almost. On the trail.) We didn't. I'm sleeping on top of a mountain - the sun is setting orange over the surrounding mountains. Seriously? Fourth & 99. So thankful. So in love.

Journal pages, no. 2

July 10, 2012, Day 2 - 17.5 miles 

We're at the T[uolumne] Meadows. My feet kill, but only one blister, so I think they'll acclimate. We hiked 17.5 miles today. It was a rough start. The uphills still hurt a lot, but it's mostly my breathing. I think I'm still getting used to the weight of my pack. And my feet ached. But Ben stayed behind me to keep me motivated. And we got to the meadow. Were directed to the cafe by rangers on horses, ate a lovely burger, and talked for awhile to a Santa Barbara couple that has hiked the JMT. They had awesome stories about their homemade equipment. This afternoon, we met Bill. Bill reminded us to take the time to really enjoy this hike - "God's country." He was finishing a southbound (this is wrong...he was northbound) thru hike for a reunion. He hiked it 40 years earlier. He was on his last 14 miles when we met him. He looked so happy. Cool people today. P.S. Bear vaults work!

John Muir Trail revisited - Last summer, Ben and I thru-hiked the JMT in California. A recent rediscovery of my trail journal has led to a daily update from the journal with associated pictures from the hike. Read day 1.

Journal pages, no. 1

Revisiting the John Muir Trail

It feels like I talk about this trip a lot, but it changed my life in innumerable ways. Conversations with strangers that lasted only a few minutes lifted my spirits and inspired me to realize how much I want to write about regular people. It was there that I really started to see stories everywhere. After we hiked that 220-mile trail through California's Sierra Nevada, I knew I wanted to go after this whole "highly physical" thing. Some people try things and hate them, but I'm not one of those people, and this was not something I hated and walked away from. I've never learned so much from a single experience, not even in 12 months of steering the Daily or four years of college. 

Friends have taken beautiful trips lately, and I've loved seeing their pictures and reactions. The more people who will do all this, the better. It's one of our goals in writing about our adventures. I cannot claim to have inspired anyone, but at least I can relate. The JMT has been on my mind for this reason. Coincidentally, I was using an old journal the other day, and I came across the pages I used to document our 14 days in the wilderness. They're short and to the point. I wrote them each night, after re-reading Scripture about perseverance and weakness. That's key, because it kept my entries - my memories from the day - positive. So when I look back, I can't complain.

I have a habit of processing too quickly. I lose information, overlook what I mean to hold on to, and forget great pictures in an effort to include variety. Because we have nothing else to blog about right now; my camera has been stolen and no new pictures will be coming any time soon except by my phone;  my need to write has increased recently; and there are plenty of images I haven't seen in the 17 months since we got off the trail, I'm going to continue to dwell on this. Additionally, we have started planning our next big hike, which will be another thru-hike after Ben finishes his Masters. This trip created the foundation for bigger dreams.

Editorial note: I didn't cut out anything because I think anyone (women especially because I found few honest female accounts) who wants to try mega backcountry hiking should see at least one realistic picture. When I was prepping for this hike, every search yielded gear and trail info, but no personal info. So I've included the starvation (which happens to most people), the start of my period on trail, and the desperate prayers I prayed while figuring all this out as I went. We already had decided our time frame, wanting to hike high-mileage days. Obviously, that's not for everyone. We also didn't bring any other means of entertainment, so we hiked from sun up to sun down. You cover a lot of miles when you do that. If you really have to ask why anyone would subject him/herself to this - I mean ask in that "this is irrational and you're an idiot" voice - than you'll never get it and you shouldn't hike like this. Onward.

July 9, 2012, Day 1 - 8 miles

Unexpectedly got a permit - left a day early from Glacier Point. Only hiked 8 miles. Ben mapped out between 13 and 16 each day, so I gotta find that inner strength pretty soon. 

"My grace is sufficient for you for my power is made perfect in your weakness." 

I am very weak. From here on, I know none of this is me.

The journey requires a destination

It’s a widespread idea you’ve probably repeated once or twice: the journey is more important than the destination. It is on commercials, integrated into company’s missions, and even taught in some of my college classes. You may have heard “It is better to travel well than to arrive,” but I would like to say that I disagree.

On first glance, you may look at the pictures in this blog and think I’m backwards - that the journey is more important than destination. But having lived it, I would say you can’t have one without the other. Taryn and I had this conversation many times along our journey. 

There are many things I appreciate about our completion of the JMT. For one, it was humbling to see the sights that we did. One of the most common questions I get asked is “How were the sunsets?” and to tell you the truth, we only saw one the entire trip. I didn’t realize this until we were at 12- 13- and 14,000 ft, but you can’t see the horizon because of the other mountaintops. Considering how far we live from real mountains, we were okay with the trade-off. Besides the views, there were the people. We learned to appreciate a good conversation. There were days where we didn’t see many people and were often starved to just have a few words with someone. These are the things I remember the most, and I don’t know that I would have set them in my memory so fully if I hadn’t experienced the finality of reaching Mt. Whitney.

Maybe that’s the difference between traveling and wandering. I think goals and ends are important to trips because that is when ideas and memories take a full hold in our minds. Traveling is not complete without a destination - an end. There needs to be a time and place to recollect and to gather yourself for the next adventure. 

It’s important to let memories sink in and for me the only way that happens is through rest. It feels so good to have hiked so far. We finished it!




This is the final post in our blogging series reflecting on the John Muir Trail. We hiked the entire 220-mile trail in July 2012 - it took us 15 days. We met new people, experienced difficulty, and took a lot of pictures. To read the entire series, just click the image.

Ponderings

It's been a month since we got off the John Muir Trail. Since then, we've spent time with family, seen the ocean, visited a bustling city, arrived back at home, and started a job. There's been some time to reflect in the time that has passed because of the number of times we've told the stories, but there's so much to think about - to write about - it's tough to pick a place and dwell. How about a list!

On whether hiking is for me... It is. In our culture, it's hard to live simply. I read blogs about it by people using macbooks, iphones, and tablets. But I will give up anything to make my pack lighter. I've already written about the challenge. It provides intrigue. The views? Obviously an incentive. There's so much to learn about the art of packing light - of balancing need and want. It's the kind of tension I want in my life always because it's the attitude that will let me seek simplicity that goes beyond fad DIY home decor and knick-knacks. In my head I have Ben shaking his head: "Go without." It's not like I crave deprivation, but I do prefer it to over-consumption on most days.

On learning to trust the leader... Like all our adventures this summer, physical challenge requires a certain level of dependence. Ben proved in every way that he is far superior in skill and intuition in situations like the ones we encountered. I'm not very practiced at shutting up and taking orders, but it saved some blood when the mosquitos started attacking us and Ben told me to run (for roughly five miles). It kept me moving when I wanted to stop. It potentially saved our lives when he kept us from hiking to the tippy-top of Mt. Whitney during a lightning storm. Or, and this happened so often it was sad, trusting his eyes to keep me on the blasted trail.

On small critters... Ever seen a marmot? Or a pika? Or a ground squirrel whose tail is bigger than his body? I heard every twitch they made in the bushes next to the trail. Each time we spotted one it was like it was the first time we'd seen them. I'd like to live in the mountains so I can have them for pets without taking them out of the wild. Besides the critters, we stood within arms' reach of deer, including a buck who stood right in the middle of the trail in the light of the sunrise and later a doe, her yearling and her fawn grazing - we spooked the fawn and watched it hop away. We saw horses packing in supplies and llamas learning to do the same. A rattlesnake. And a bear knocked around our bear vaults the first night on the trail, but it was too dark to see him.

On the people... They're stories. A wellspring of stories. We expected to encounter more people than we did. Actually, we expected to encounter more people we could hike alongside than we did. We met many hikers, but most were hiking the opposite direction. Some stopped to talk - like Thomas, who was hiking the PCT for the third time and told us about a trail he's hiked in Israel. There was Bill from Hawaii who hiked the JMT for the second time, 40 or so years after his first time and reminded us to slow down and enjoy the matchless views. He had a thing for birds. And, finally, there was Ranger Rob, who shared his cabin with seven of us JMTers during a hail storm. His wife is also a ranger.

On sleeping on the ground for 15 nights straight... Don't skimp on the sleeping pad. And pack sleeping pills.

Trail Magic

This is the second in a series detailing our 220-mile, 15-day hike through the high sierras. To read more stories and see more pictures, click the logo.

Every once in a while, a stranger will do something nice for me. They may hold the door open, or pitch in a few cents if I'm short at the grocery store. I am always very grateful for these people because random kindness can be hard to come by in some places. When we were hiking the JMT, random kindness was everywhere. In the hiking community, this is called "Trail Magic" and the people that help you are "Trail Angels." The following tales are accounts of our Trail Angels and what they did for us.

Thousand Island Lake just before the "giants"

One particularly difficult day, we had 22 miles to cover over what is called Inyo National Forest. This is a land of giants and it was common to see trees that were over 10 ft in diameter. However, we couldn't fully enjoy their beauty because 1) they were knocked to the ground and 2) there were swarms of mosquitos attacking us (we learned later that a wind storm knocked these trees over last winter. 180mph winds!). This forced us to run the last 5 miles of the day in order to keep the pests from sucking all of our blood. After this endurance test, we walked in to Devil's Postpile National Monument to find a campsite only to find they were all taken. In our futile attempts to find some spare land to pitch a tent, we stumbled upon a man named Jim who asked what we were doing. After a short conversation, he offered his spare tent to us with a queen air mattress and we gladly accepted. He was there with his wife Jan and mother Jan who were some of the most talkative and easy-going people we met on our trip. They fed us dinner and kept us company that night and in the morning gave us some fruit and cereal. Their hospitality went a long way and allowed us to get a decent night's sleep. Thanks Jim, Jan, and Jan!

Out of the forest and up Mather Pass

The following day, we took a bus from Devil's Postpile to a town called Mammoth Lakes. We planned to restock our food and buy Taryn some new shoes (her shoes had fallen apart and given her 17 blisters). Mammoth is a ski town that caters to outdoor tourists so the choices for gear shops was a bit overwhelming. We randomly chose one called Footloose Sports hoping to find someone who could size Taryn up for a decent pair of shoes. The man who was working in the footwear department happened to be a retired pediatrist. He was able to fit Taryn with a great pair of shoes. What are the odds?!

Campsite on top of Donahue Pass

Me and my new sleeping pad "Big Blue"

The night we camped on top of Donahue Pass (day 3), my ultralight sleeping pad popped. This meant that I had to sleep on the ground, and for any hiker that is terrible news. I tried to power through but three days and nights of exhaustion were too much. We were forced to take a short detour to a place called Vermillion Valley Resort, which was a few miles off trail via boat ride. Our plan was to go there and try to hitchhike into the nearest town to replace my pad. Well, the nearest town was three hours away and the small cafe there did not sell any big ticket items like a pad. This was a make or break moment for me. I was either going to get a pad or we were going to quit only 75 miles into our journey. We had the day to think about it (the boat only runs twice a day) so we sat on a bench and talked with other hikers. There were a few random people there who had driven the long pilgrimage from Fresno to camp and one of them decided to strike up a conversation. He asked me what we were doing and how it was going. I quickly told him our situation and he replied "I will be right back." He returned a few minutes later with a large blue foam pad that he said was his spare hiking pad. I sat there in disbelief and thanked him profusely. He laughed and then offered Taryn and I steaks. The kindness was almost too much to handle.

 A perfect rock chair in the middle of nowhere. This was an exhausting day

The last 60 percent or so of our trip we hiked very quickly because we could not carry much food. Our average mileage was more than 20 and we even did a 25-mile day. In the High Sierra, this is no easy feat and by the end we were beyond tired. We had also gone several days without a decent conversation, so our morale suffered as well. On day 13 of our trip we were practically out of food and still had one big pass to cover, Forester. Once we got over this the rest of the way was easy but we were still out of food. That night we camped in a large group of people and immediately began talking to two guys who were hiking at about the same speed we were. After a long chat, we bonded with them and set out the next day as a group of four. This boosted morale beyond anything we had experienced up to this point and to top it off, they fed us a few meals! Their names were Alex and Dustin and I can't say enough about them. At the base of Mount Whitney, we were caught in a hail storm. Dustin pitched a tarp against a rock wall and seven or eigh of us hikers crammed ourselves under it. Despite the bad weather and obvious hunger, this was one of my favorite moments on the whole trail and everyone under the tarp had a huge smile on their faces. We were almost done! One more mountain to go! This company made all the difference in the world and helped Taryn and I to finish our journey.

The summit of Whitney was invisible because of the storm

These are just a few of the stories from the trail that I hope to remember for years. It was a far cry from modern living because we (hikers) were all dependent on each other to finish. When we needed something, it was there and when we didn't have any strength left, somehow we made it through. We thank all of our Trail Angels that we met on our trip.

Pain: It's all in your head (kind of)

This is the first in a series of posts we will write about our 15-day southbound journey on the John Muir Trail. From pictures to people, we have a lot of experiences to process. Incredible experiences.



Even as we stood at Glacier Point - the start of our hike - it hadn't quite hit me. The ranger had given us our permits, explained the behavior of bears, and wished us happy trails. We walked out of the office grinning widely with an extra bounce in our step. We packed our backpacks carefully; we spent an hour in the parking lot squishing food into our bear vaults (half the size of every other hiker we encountered) and cutting weight (example: ripping out pages from my journal for the trail instead of bringing the whole book).

But still it hadn't hit me. It was step one of thousands - mile 1 of 220.

On day 1, we hiked only 8 miles, and I ached. Day 2: 17.5 miles - blisters.

On day 3, we almost turned around. We'd realized a major problem: my mind doesn't know how to hike so many miles a day. I experienced very real physical pain throughout the hike (shoes turned out to be two sizes too small - even with new shoes on day 5, I had 17 blisters by the end of the trip, among other things), but it was really nothing compared to the mental struggle.

It seems obvious that hiking for 15 days straight is a challenge. We lost weight, slept poorly, and hiked 20-plus miles a day for five consecutive days of the 15. If you're not hurting, you're maybe not human. But I expected that getting through each day would make me mentally stronger. After all, I could hike the distance, even with the joint pain. I woke up every morning and hiked, day after day. I was surprised to find it never got easier in my head. The superficial physical pain and long days wrapped tightly around me and felt like too much to handle.

On day 3, fear of the trail ahead sat like a rock in my stomach. After seriously considering ending our trip, we hiked our first mountain pass, which became our favorite campsite and view (pictured) of the entire hike. Within days of reaching the end of our trail, we still considered getting off. I was tired of hiking.

What made hiking so hard? No. 1, I have never done anything so sustained. Soccer games last 80-90 minutes; runs: 4-5 miles. I lack endurance, and I especially lack the mental toughness that comes with it. And when you take away the comfort food, the soft bed, and the freedom to change activities every couple of hours, you're left with the hard task of confronting pain, fear, and failure, and there's no way around it. We hiked over nine mountain passes before climbing Mt. Whitney. There were days we'd start out knowing we were hiking uphill all day. But at the top of each pass, the wind touched our faces in congratulations, and it felt like we stood on top of the world.

That's what made the trip so incredible. We experienced raw beauty the same way we had on Long's Peak and in Boulder Canyon, but it came in doses that fit the effort we gave and the length of time we were out there. We felt the same smallness and need for trust. When we reached the top of Mt. Whitney, we heard the mountain tell us to keep our distance as lightening and dark clouds prevented us from reaching the peak. And beyond that, I realized the hardest part of learning endurance is turning down the opportunities to quit early. But the best part of wanting to quit is finishing the trail.

I put up a fight - ask Ben. A positive attitude is as elusive as physical strength when I let it be. I think this hike and this trip as a whole asked me a lot of questions about how willing I am to deny myself and keep going. My head and my body fought over what I was capable of and how much I wanted to finish. And I learned I have a lot more long trails in front of me because it will take a lifetime to learn physical and mental endurance.

A Taste of the JMT

The John Muir Trail (JMT) is a 220 mile stretch of track that runs from Yosemite to Mt Whitney. It is known as the "High Sierra Trail" and that name suits it well. The track rarely dips below 8,000ft and many of the days are spent above 10,000ft. Sometimes the trail looks like the moon because there are no trees in sight and other times the trees are so high you can't see much else. It is a land of utter extremes.

This will be the first of several entries about the trail because there would be no way anyone could write just one. Our purpose through these will be to give people a taste of what it was like. John Muir himself called the Sierras the most divinely inspired mountains he had ever seen and after spending over 2 weeks hiking their spine I must agree with him. Each day would provide challenges and views that most people only read about. I feel blessed to have lived through them.

There is something primal about hiking that brings human senses to a new level. We were able to smell people from far away, we were able to hear small sounds at night, and we were able to judge the wind from a waterfall with just one listen. I like being tuned that way and although it's not a glamourous road to reach that level for us it felt worth it. I think most of the hikers we met would agree that the woods makes you sharper. They refine just about every part of you, but first they break you down. We had a lot of pain on the trail.

Hiking is a great way to meet strangers who will do selfless deeds to help you. The people we met along the way made the blisters and sweat seem to fade. We will dedicate an entire entry to these people but for now enjoy the pictures from the comfort of your computer.