How to describe it? I can’t. Pictures won’t do it justice, my vocabulary certainly falls short, and even if I give you a glimpse into my soul…it is slowly being culture-shocked back into life’s distractions barely hanging on to the Ahhhh.
We left from Devil’s Post Pile and it didn’t take long to earn my trail name…Caboose. Annette and Audrey were strong, fast, and feeling good. I was anxious, but excited, and looking forward to being with two fantastic women in a very special place. Everything seemed in tune. Just as we began to heat up from hiking, a delightful afternoon sprinkle helped to refresh as we continued on our way with very distant sounds of thunder. The sky continued to darken and we eventually found ourselves engulfed by a downpour that turned to hail. It was initially exhilarating. Laughter, wows of amazement, and whoops of joy emitted as we felt as though we and nature were one. We had done it…we were one with the wilderness. Not as a bystander viewing it from a book, a window, or structure. Not as a temporary hiker that can return to shelter from the storm to await a better time or with the knowledge and convenience of dry clothes, but completely immersed into the moment of nature’s plan. We had our map and plan of how far to go and approximately where to set up camp, but thunder boomed and cracked at rare intensity being amplified by the surrounding granite walls and we knew that our plan was being over-ridden by the whim of wild weather.
Unlike the initial exhilaration of feeling alive with the hail, after about 1 ½ hours of pounding cold rain and heavy wet gear, fatigued legs, and cold hands I related more to the soggy trodden wildflowers that had once vibrantly stood tall and now were beaten-down, limp, and breaking. We made it to Deer Creek but we did not cross it. Through our wet blurry vision we back-tracked slightly and went up hill to find a potential campsite. The rain was relentless. We attempted to make a shelter from tying ponchos to tree-limbs, removed our soggy packs hoping to save some dry gear and crouched down shivering and brainstorming what to do. The sky was filled with dark clouds, flashes of lightening and blasts of thunder. The rain started to slow down and we raced the weather to set up the tents. Finally inside the tents we stripped off the soggy clothes and tried to dry off and warm up. Chronic shivering beneath the covers EVENTUALLY paid off. It was obvious by that time that the great vision of a warm meal was no longer possible. We ate tomorrow’s lunch and hoped for clear skies in the morning. We remained in our bags listening to the rain and commented on Evan’s accurate description and the irony of how the cold droplets on the tent sounded like “crackling fire.”
Rain continued through the night. In the morning when it seemed to slow down, we looked outside and saw mostly clouds continuing to build. We quickly packed up, took turns trying to filter water with mosquitoes and a SLOW water filter until Audrey finished the job and Annette quickly heated some water for coffee and tea to find some warmth in the predicament. We hoped to get going and reach drier ground and bluer skies. We had a snack for breakfast and warm delicious oatmeal beside a stream, and under a rain-fly, for lunch. My wet clothes hung off my pack soggier than before.
That evening we set up at Virginia Lake…it was worth every bit of the storm. The rain had finally let up. We had a campsite with a view, a warm meal, and dry rocks and branches to hang our wet clothes and gear. Life is good!
Annette took a dip in the lake early the next morning before the sun could reach our campsite over the trees. Audrey helped me filter water with an improved pace and conveniently enough, by the time we could dare to splash into the lake, the sun had reached the shore and begun to warm the rocks. Annette still thinks we planned it that way. I think we were just plain LUCKY! It was COLD! What a difference it was to be able to dry off and feel the warmth of the sun! Planning for mileage and looking toward the climb ahead, the departure time becomes more important especially with a Caboose! It was getting to be a bit of a late start considering the need to get over Silver Pass…the late dip in the lake sort of set things back a bit :-/
Packs were finally going on after a final walk through and as I looked down I saw another rock…this time obsidian. One of my great challenges is to be able to walk along a rocky, stone-ridden path and not pick up various types and shapes of rocks that catch my eye. I’d like to say that that’s why I was the “Caboose,” but there were other factors contributing to that. The pull was too strong and I had to pick it up. To my great delight I became more connected to the land and it’s history at that moment as I held a small, black, intricately carved arrowhead. How amazing to stand there in the moment and realize over a hundred years ago, a fellow human, probably Mono Indian, sat somewhere nearby, after having a dip in the same lake, and carving a tool for survival. How amazing that it withstood all that time and survived! That is how pristine this place is. Although there are some signs of present day influences with dynamite sphincter scares in rocks and some bridges across rivers, for the most part, you can be in the moment and parallel a fragment of civilization from the past. We all wondered if the JMT route had been greatly influenced by the worn paths established by the Native Americans living here with the land. We set off for the day and I had new energy in my step- not moving much faster, but with a new connection with the land and respect for whoever last used that arrowhead so many years ago. The land is now mostly what is was back then because of the respect they had given the land and it’s fellow inhabitants.
We crossed streams, paralleled meadows, and winded our way up to Squaw Lake for lunch and then on to Silver Pass. On the trail we would pass and then be re-passed by through-hikers. Some were doing the PCT and others the JMT. We were all touched by Baboo. He had lost his wife 5 years ago to cancer and has been on the go ever since. Never staying in a place longer than 3 months, in his 70s he has completed the AT, several bike tours and the JMT. Wow! The inspiration tales and views were endless…and the green sludge for lunch was better than it looked!
We side-stomped our way through snow up Silver Pass. We almost renamed the Summit Weepy Pass. We had tears in our eyes as we inhaled the 360 degree view and the realization of our individual trials that we had each faced to be there. Annette and Audrey continue to be such an inspiration. They are both very driven, focused, and compassionate women that in the face of adversity had joined together to do something positive instead of being beaten down by circumstances or submitting to denial. I felt grateful to be a small part of the grand Trek for a Cure! We were at the top of the world!
We searched for a campsite at Silver Lake that would be somewhat sheltered from the wind and above the mosquitoes that we had so far been lucky enough to avoid. Annette made another delicious meal, we filtered water, and the realization that this was my last night started to weigh on my soul. I deeply missed my family and looked forward to seeing them. I wished I could share this time with them as well. I wanted to cling on to the peaceful submersion. The morning’s alpine glow greeted us and after some hot beverages and a yummy breakfast, we were off to Vermillion Valley.
Waterfalls, forging rivers, and wildflowers defined our path. We made it to the boat dock with time to spare. The warm shower and hot served food were quite a lure despite the culture shock of the sounds of motors, people, and the smell of exhaust. Annette paced with anticipation to get to see her family and the embrace upon their arrival was similar to the intensity at Silver Pass…It is all about connections, to our loved ones, to our environment, to the insight from the past. To remain present and connected and avoid the chaos of distractions…To remain in tune with the beauty of love, the tranquility and intensity of nature, and to learn from those that inspire…that’s what I bring back with me and hope to cling on to. I am glad to be back with my family and I’m missing my time on the Trek with Annette! I can’t wait to hear more stories of inspiration.
Kara
Note: Kara sent this to me with lots of photos imbedded in a word document and the photos did not transfer. Check back soon as Kara and I sort this out. -- Marc
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Kara, thank you so much for writing this. I am sitting at my computer reading it and crying all over again. It was such an amazing time and I wish I could head back down and do it again. Marc, now that I am finally at home to stay, I will try to get something written up as well. Take care everyone. Audrey
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