"God never made an ugly landscape. All that sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild."

-John Muir

John Muir was a Scottish environmentalist, and one of the founding members (and first president) of the Sierra Club (think hippies with beards trying to protect the outdoors from modern day development). It's a shame John Muir died shortly before the 211 mile trail was actually completed. Now, hundreds of people make the trek every year, usually between June and September. We are stepping foot onto this legendary path on August 4th. For 12 days we'll be drinking out of streams, dining on dehydrated food, and sleeping under the stars...yes, we DO consider that a vacation! :) 

The trail is 211 miles, stretching from Yosemite Valley to the summit of Mt. Whitney. But once you reach the Whitney summit, you still have to get down. By the end, most hikers will have walked 223 miles over the most scenic passes and through the most glorious Valleys of the Sierra Nevadas.

The logistics of planning a hike this long are somewhat of a nightmare right at the beginning. There is so much information all over the web, some true, some false, some mere opinions. Here are some basic things to consider: 

1. Decide When To Go.

The hiking season generally runs from late June (for those not afraid of crossing some snow packs), all the way through September (for those not afraid of early snow surprises and colder night temps). The snow usually melts off by July...but then come the mosquitoes (typically referred to as mozzies in backpacker language), which can be a total joykill. Unfortunately bugs go hand in hand with wildflower season, so if you want to see that, stock up on deet, be willing to wear a bug net over your head, or plan on not stopping by lakes or slow moving creeks (where they tend to be the worst). Usually by August the swarms of mozzies have died off, the creeks are more passable, and the temps are perfect. 

2. Decide How Long To Go For. 

In a perfect world, we all have summers off (just like kids). Unfortunately, most of us have those annoying job-things with those boss-things that wont accept "I was just frolicking in the woods for 5 weeks" as an acceptable excuse for missing work (if they did, I would be on the PCT right now, and not blogging). Your work schedule very well could be dictating the When and How Long of your JMT adventure. Because we only have 2 weeks off work, we are opting for a 12 day trail itinerary, with a few days beforehand to get acclimated, and a few days after to recover (Yes, this means an average of 20 miles a day. Yes, we are training NOW).

3. Get a permit. 

Got a date? Now it's time for a permit. Permits are always granted from the place where you start the hike. If going South Bound (SOBO), then Yosemite (with the desirable trailhead being Happy Isle/Sunrise Passthrough--Half Dome permit optional). If going North Bound (NOBO), then Inyo National Forest. We are going SOBO (most people do). Count backwards from your desired start date 24 weeks and thats the first day you can reserve it. Permits are relatively cheap, ($5/person + $5 transaction fee from Yosemite). Here's a handy calculated calendar to help, Here's the application, And Here's the instructions for applying. Can I just rant for a minute about the nightmarishly archaic permit system at Yosemite? Calling doesn't work--my phone stopped counting the number of outgoing calls at 200. I still didn't get through. So, we opted for the fax option. Basically, in the morning when a ranger gets there he "randomly" pulls an application out of the piles of faxes that poured in overnight and you hope he picks yours...and thats how the 6 open spots from Happy Isles are assigned. Kind of a crapshoot. And no, you can't fax in a bunch of applications to have a better chance, they'll probably get mad and toss them all and still charge you. We did it for several nights in a row before we got ours. We found it best to use an online fax system like FaxZero (and its free!). There's always the walk up option if you have flexibility in case you don't get one for a few days (this option makes other things difficult, like resupply, planning shuttle rides, etc). Good Luck...

Now we can start the fun part of planning: tentative trail itinerary, food resupply, and most importantly: GEAR SELECTING!

Why do we always return to Mineral King? Because....THIS:

The mission for this particular trip was to finish our previous goal: Summit Sawtooth Peak. Yes, we went over the pass (11,730 ft) on our last trip, but we had yet to make it all the way to the peak (12,343 ft). Since we were only weeks away from attempting a Mt Whitney summit, this trip was a defining moment (in my head). 

We headed up to Mineral King Friday after work, planning our usual (car camping) overnight at Cold Springs. This is one of the few places you can car camp and feel like you're not on top of your neighbors. The camping is first come first serve, and only costs $12. Not many people are willing to drive the 25 mile winding one lane half paved road to get there (we've timed it many times, even if you know the road well, it takes an hour and half). We weren't doing any backpacking so we didn't need to pick up a permit (day hikes do not require permits). 

We woke up casually (probably around 6am), and headed out. The trail is steep at first, then splits with the Timber Gap trail (we've done that one plenty of times, love it!). The next 3 miles (or so) are a gentle climb and we were able to get up fairly fast. Looking up before you head into the Monarch Lake area, you can see Sawtooth peeking out:

The trail passes through a forest-like area before you head into the rocky Monarch Lakes area. You can see the trail ahead of us, and how gentle the climb is. Note the little point that is Sawtooth in the upper right:

As always, the deer around here show no fear of humans:

Once you pass by the Beautiful Monarch Lakes, you immediately start to make your way up the sandy slog of Sawtooth toward the pass. I tried to capture how steep it is:

Looking down:

As we climbed higher (stoping every 3 minutes to catch our breathe and give our legs a rest), Upper Monarch Lake becomes visible. This is a great lake to take a swim in btw. 

As we got higher and higher, I couldn't help photograph this mountain peak to the left a million times. The beauty of this place really is incredible (It also gives a feel for the steepness of the mountains around here).

 This is the view looking over to the peak from the Pass:

It's about a mile or so rock scramble from here to there...and we were goin' for it. We had been warned by others and even the rangers that there isn't a clearly marked path, but that it was "easier" than the part from Monarch Lake to the Pass...
This was about halfway to the point...see if you can spot Sam:

Not too long after I took this photo, I sat down for a break. I suddenly felt like I needed to lay down and go to sleep. Oh no...that's not good. The altitude was hitting me hard, and since we were having a hard time following the trail (basically just climbing rocks and aiming for that big pointy thing), we opted to abort the mission. One problem: there is no "trail" to turn around on and head back. Me, being a genius and clearly an outdoor expert (HAH!), said "hey look, lets follow those footsteps, straight down to the lakes..."

 Big Mistake. We resorted to sliding down on our butts, with the occasional slides not knowing when/how they would end, nearly falling off several cliffs, and both thinking "This is how we die....I've always wondered how I would go..." Tears were shed (my tears, Sam is a robot), prayers were said, and we just kept going, keeping those lakes in view. We had lost all direction/trail/common sense. For some reason we just kept going down. Looking back up I tried to take one photo of where we had slid down on our butts:

It looks like a cliff, because it is...and several times we would hit loose sand covering a rock and just keep sliding. We were SO dumb. What seemed like hours passed as we continued down. I'm sure it was closer to one hour in real time...

Spoiler alert: we obviously made it down because I am writing this blog. I wanted to HUG AND KISS Monarch Lake when we reached it..is it possible to hug and kiss water? 

There was another group of day hikers at the lake swimming, and we ran over to the lake and dipped our water bottles in and chugged water...there was also some shedding of clothes as we jumped in for a swim. They were looking at us like aliens. I'm sure I was crying (yeah, I do that a lot).  We finally spoke, and all we said was something to the effect of "That's not the way you're supposed to get down that mountain, and we almost just died," half laughing, half crying. They couldn't tell if we were joking or not. Their biggest concern was us drinking the water straight from the lake. We had to sit there and mentally recover for an hour or so before we could make it all the way back to the car. 

As we headed down, I kept looking back at Sawtooth, seeing where we had come from, and trying to decide if we were friends or not. 

We learned our lesson, Sawtooth, you win. I will never try to stand on top of your stupid pointy peak at 12,434 ft in the air and see 360 degrees all around me ever again....or will I?

"Nice try, rookie," laughs Sawtooth as he shrinks in the background.  

Ahhh....Mineral King Valley: my personal favorite place to go in the Sequoia's. It's not that I don't like Fourth of July. I just don't understand the whole White-Trash-themed BBQ's and sitting around outside when its blazing suns and getting sunburned and drunk. Does that make me Anti-American? Oh well...we did this instead:

Let me set the scene a little for you so you understand just how difficult this 3 day (roughly 30 miles) backpacking trip was. Sam and I have always been campers, adventurers, and outdoorsy folks. It wasn't until this last year that we discovered I struggle (pretty badly) with altitude sickness. That means that when I go up into high altitudes I get sick: headaches, nausea, inability to sleep well, lack of appetite, etc. The first TWO times it happened (read about it here and here), I hadn't even heard of it, nor was I ready to admit I had this 'thing' that clearly only 'unhealthy people who are uncomfortable outside' have. It wasn't until we went to a seminar in search of tips on how to be a successful Mt Whitney Peakbagger that the dots connected. Actually, I think I was sill in denial then. The man giving the talk started listing the symptoms. In my head I was thinking "check, check, yup, check check..." Out loud I said, "No, remember, it was food poisoning...or nerves...or something."

Fast forward to this last trip in the Mineral King area of the Sequoia's. I had read up on my "sickness" and was coming well prepared. I even got some crazy drugs from the doctor (who warned me of the tingle feeling I would get in my hands and feet and the crappy taste in my mouth I would have when drinking carbonated drinks). We had 2 days to acclimate. We spent one night around 6,000ft at a car camping spot, did a day hike to well over 10,000ft, and the next night at 7,800ft...and then we were off....

...to sit in the car while I cried and tried to force a granola bar down and decide if I wanted to make myself go on this trip. All I could think was how much smaller the world felt at that moment. All the places I wouldn't be able to go, the mountains I wouldn't be able to climb...I thought for sure I had mentally prepared myself to "ignore" my symptoms. I thought I could will myself into being fine. Clearly, I had low will power, or I really did suffer from this 'thing'. The previous times I had gotten these symtoms began to make much more sense...and I think we had resorted to turn around and go home.

But I'm stubborn. And though he would never say it or make me feel bad about it, I didn't want to let Sam down. So, off we went....slowly....

We set out to do a loop we had previously turned around on (because I had food poisoning, remember?! ;). Here's a highlighted Map of the route we chose:

Our first night's destination: Bug Pond...er, I mean, Pinto Lake. Beautiful marshy lake area, infested with mosquitoes and Deer. At least it was so the last time we were here. Probably due to it being a dry year, the mozzies weren't too much of a bother. And guess what, I was feeling ok. Not tip top, but I had made it up over Timber Gap (up 1,500ft) , down (2,5300 ft) into the valley, Crossed Cliff Creek without falling into it, and up (1,700ft) again to Pinto Lake.

Crossing Cliff Creek

Home for the Night at Pinto Lake Campground

Sam, cooking dinner with the ultra lightweight cook system he made 

We hiked over to a little hill to catch the sunset reflecting off what we thought to be Sawtooth Peak

The next morning we had to get over Black Rock Pass (3,000ft), pass through the Big Five Lakes Area, the Little Five lakes area, and get to at least the Lost Creek Trail Junction (sleeping somewhere just below 10,000ft elevation). We had been to the top of Black Rock Pass before, but I was barfing. I was looking forward to a barfless summit. Success. I was even eating real food on the way up. 

Looking back toward Pinto Lake as we get closer to Black Rock Pass

Soon, We'll be far above that waterfall

Here's another view of the same waterfall

As you climb black Rock, multiple lakes and waterfalls become visible. It helps you track your progress. 

At the top of Black Rock Pass, looking down at the Little Five Lakes

Getting closer to the Lakes as we go down

And here....We didn't go for a swim though. They were extremely cold and we were not that hot. 

We camped somewhere along the Lost Canyon Trail with the advice from a Ranger. We suspect it was about a mile after the trail junction. The next day was the bi day we were going to climb over Sawtooth. We woke up pretty early, on got on the trail by about 6 am. That may sound terrible, but really, when you go to bed at 9pm the night before, your eyes just spring open at sunrise sometime around 5 or 5:30am. 

Heading out of Lost Canyon, Sawtooth in front of us

Looking back at Lost Canyon. It sure was beautiful. 

Shadow Selfie in Lost Canyon. 

Columbine Lake, halfway to Sawtooth. The hardest part is coming...

Oh look how much Columbine Lake shrank once we got to the top of Sawtooth!

Looking down into Mineral King Valley from Sawtooth Pass. 

We opted not to make the optional summit from the Pass to the Peak. It was another Mile (unmarked rock scrambling) and another 900-1,000ft or so. I did NOT have it in me. I shed tears of joy on this pass. I felt like crap, I had only eaten some nuts and a fruit bar for the day, and I barely made it to the top. But I felt like I had won a war against the altitude. This whole trip will always be one that stands out in my mind as one of conquest, even if just barely. I wish I had taken more pictures to show how steep Sawtooth was on both sides, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

From Left to Right: Nerd 1 (also known as Sam), Nerd 2 (Also known as Katy, me), and Sawtooth Peak. 

Hey Look, We're almost back to our tarp covered car! 

Mineral King, I hope we share more weekends in the future. 

My Favorite picture from the weekend.  I mean...look at it!!!!

We had our first trip of the summer planned for Memorial Day Weekend in Mineral King. We were going to head out to Hockett Meadow via Franklin trail (I think?...I forget because we changed it a few times).

The way the permit system works is you fax in a request weeks (months even) before the actual trip. Then you wait for an answer by mail. Well, by the time the trip came up, the forecast said "Slight chance of light snow showers." I kept checking in the days before we would head out, as we are not prepared for snow hiking/backpacking. Snow adventures require much different gear than what we have. Reluctantly, we headed to Mineral King up that wretched winding road. We went for a walk that afternoon. The "light snow showers" were beautiful...

So we set up (car) camp in the snow at Cold Springs Campground, and enjoyed some BBQ'd sausages for dinner and s'mores for dessert. The sky didn't show signs of getting worse and we had planned an early start into the back country for tomorrow. 

With the tarp "roof" Sam built us, and the fire going, it didn't even seem that cold. 

Then came the longest most dreadful night of my life. I have never, to this day, ever been so cold in my life. The forecast said it was around 30. I would venture to say it was MAYBE 25. I know, east coast folks deal with that all the time. Well, I'm sure they have big jackets and socks and all kinds of things to prepare/deal with it. I did not even have wool socks--just regular old socks on my frozen piggies. I didn't want to keep Sam up, or let him know I was so miserable, but I was inside my bag sobbing, from lack of sleep, and just being in pain...inside my synthetic 40 degree crappy bag (don't worry, it got replaced after this trip). As soon as it began to get light again, I woke up Sam, still crying, begging him to go home. I did not sleep one wink, there was no way I was going backpacking..and if it was this cold here, I imagined it being worse the farther out and higher up we would go. Sam seemed to have slept fine in his down bag with his wool socks and didn't notice how cold it was. We new it must have started to snow in the night, so we opened our tent to find this...

So I'm no expert...but those don't look like "light snow showers" to me. How about "a foot of snow." 

And it was starting to come down again. So we made our decision to head lower and try to go somewhere else not buried in a foot of snow. 

This was the road we had to drive on. Good things we had chains! 

We took one of the few permits left out of an area called South Fork. We had to car camp one night in the South Fork Campground (think bros, beer, and loud music), and the following night we could head out. Some of the spots were very overgrouwn with brush...and we thought for sure the guys next to us pounding beers and lighting a raging fire were going to burn the whole forest down. It was a self check-in kind of campground with no ranger, otherwise I would have went and complained to someone. I didn't take any photos of how close their fire was to the brush because it was night time and it wouldn't have shown...but I was half expecting to wake up to a forest fire. 

Here are a few photos from that afternoon/evening...it was nice to see the sun.

Don't mistake me for a wimpy girl who just never saw snow. I grew up where it snowed in the winter. It's one thing to put on boots and mittens and head out to build a snowman. It's another to expect a low of 45 degrees and wake up in snow with nothing but a hoodie. Rookie move on my part when heading into the wilderness. 

We ended up hiking about 10 miles or so in on the Lady Bug Trail (or was it Garfield Grove trail?) and stopped for one night among some beautiful trees (According to the map, maybe it was Garfield Grove?)

We had not brought a bear can because our original trip included stops where there were bear lockers, so we had to hang food...all we had to loose was the next day's breakfast and we had no other choice. 

We actually managed to PCT it. 

It was a great night in those trees. Sam even taught me how to build a fire:

Well, no bears ate our oatmeal, but we thought we heard something in the night that neither of us wanted to admit we both thought a bear. In the morning we had to hang the tent to dry. It was wet with condensation b/c we didn't steak the rainfly. 

Moral of the story: Snow happens. Have wool socks. Read the forecast, and then ignore it because it's always wrong. Be prepared. Don't camp at South Fork Car campground unless you have to (or you like rude, loud, obnoxious kind of campers that may potentially burn down the place).