8. 6. 14 Troop 204

So. So many things happened today. Or did we meet so many people? Or did we fly through too many emotions? climb too many hills? Too much today.
The first half of our day will be shared on our final Whitney post.

By lunch we crossed a single person suspension bridge, which was supposed to be fun and cool. I almost threw up on it, as I followed behind Nate. Walking maybe 20 ft over a river, navigating him over the broken/ missing slots, and grooving our walk so that my steps wouldn't shake the bridge against his steps, we crossed. And it was long, dude. I feel the need to mention this because I have seen this bridge in pictures with smiling crossers. I too will have pictures that will inevitably look to you like it's a fun bridge. It wasn't. Not today.
We met a cool guy named Will who was sweet and kind to the boys. He lent us some stories and GORP treats. Good luck in nursing school, Will! We think you'll be great.
The day before a pass is often worse than a pass because you need to begin a steady, stretched out climb, in this case, from 8000 and something feet to 11,000 and something feet. Nate was in a mental hole, and Max and I couldn't get him to cheer up, so the day was a trying one.
--wait, interruption. Steven, a bug just flew in my ear--
The trail was hilly and grumpy and persistent. We arrived to camp broken and dirty that night, at Rae Lakes. There were tents everywhere before us, and collected bodies along the lake, looked up and started walking toward us. Like from all directions, trickling groups came to us. Strange. But it was ok! It was Troop 204 coming our way; a boy scout group with kids camping (ages 12-18), and some of their dads. They greeted us enthusiastically, and marveled at the boys. They asked if we were ok and if we were hungry, either because we looked just awful, or they were semi-psychic. The boys replied "YES!" were elated and jumping up and down.

The troop, it turns out, was impressed with the boys, their ages and their accomplishment. They all asked questions about our trip and were, (as you might imagine), perfect role models and young gentlemen. We set up camp and received a steady stream of food offerings from many of these boys, "..We have lots of extra, do you want some cranberries? granola? bars?.." Later in the evening, they brought us a fajita and many leftover brownies. Have you any idea what such foods meant to the boys? Who has fajitas on a camping trip?! Troop 204 did. They did camping right, and the boys were giggling with gratitude: "..brownies?!! I love fachitos!!! Can we have them every day?! Can you believe how nice they are?!!"
They were. The dads, all the kids, they were so polite and fun and respectful and silly..they were so nice. Thank you Troop 204. 

8. 5. 14 Pinchot to Woods Creek

Sunshine!
Sunshine!
Better than food, is sunshine.
Pinchot Pass. Just as Nate was about to say, "No more pass!!" we were at the top. Eating lunch atop these nutty mountains has become a perfect way to reward and enjoy ourselves. We met lovely Judy up there, who does this hike almost yearly. She granted us three bags of GORP (nuts and fruits and m&ms, we were delighted to find out), and scrambled eggs. The boys now want to add nuts and fruit to this October's Halloween loot, to make the largest bag of GORP ever. Thank you Judy, so much.
We also learned that llamas are very lovey and do not spit viciously. We are sleeping next to two llamas now who are perfect neighbors. They are helping our friends next door carry food on their celebratory 60th birthday hike through the Sierras. 
We hiked from 12,130 ft down to the 8000's only to go up again tomorrow for Glen Pass. Sigh. Tomorrow we climb as close to Glen as we can, and hope to be close to Onion Valley by the 7th.
Hope hope. Food, here we come!

8. 4. 14 ".. Not for a hundred years.."

I woke up early and willed the sky blue. I apprehensively peeked out of the tent to see a hint of promising light. Immediately, I popped out and went to work: stringing up wet everything, packing backs, filtering water, preparing a hot breakfast and planning a quick get away. I was so proud of the clean up, and actually managed to dry everything pretty well. Dry I say! Sun! Ah to be dry.
A half dozen hikers passed with the same quick-step energy that I had pumping; we must get out of here! Our friends who met the bear in Yosemite walked by wearing pieces of any dry clothing they had. All of us were decked out in a mix of pj's and bandanas draped. They had crossed Mather in the storm and said the descent was a knee high river. So dangerous. Soon after another man came by, "I've hiked this a number of times and never ever saw this kind of weather." My favorite was the guy who thought it might burn off and brighten into a week of sun. He said that the Sierras haven't seen a storm like that in a hundred years. Excellent. I bring rain.
So we boogied and hoped to get up Pinchot Pass (another 12,000+ footer, but much less intense). Easy and pleasant enough path, weaving in and out of forests and waterfalls, under the same grey skies. Bright spots pushed to break through the thick clouds, but never made it. That was ok. Our problem today was this: river crossings. The storm agitated the rivers and they plowed through with power and newfound depth. "Drought be gone!" they cried. We have crossed, well Natey's been counting, over 40 mini creeks and large rivers, always with easy access. Today, we crossed over five volatile rivers. They were slippy, ice cold and scary for the guys (both). My balance is thrown completely off while wearing a heavy pack, so it's fair to say that my heart also raced. By the third cross and after slips from all boots, we accepted (angrily) that we had to just wade. After all that rain and magical drying, we were soaked again. I hated them by the end of the day. All the rivers. Damn their beauty and wetness.
We made our way to Marjorie Lake, about 500ft below the pass. We met Carmen and Ann on the rock below, who shared scrumptious peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies (sent from Ann's mom) with us. Just for niceness. The little men were caught off guard, grateful and dumbstruck. I wouldn't have been surprised if they bowed or kissed them. Thank you nice people. The boys made finger puppets for you.
Clouds were dark and low, so we opted to tackle the pass tomorrow. Glen Pass, then Kearsarge, then Onion Valley, then Independence.

8. 3. 14 Never Rains in California

The night of our great epochal feat, the sky grew dark early and sinister clouds dropped lower over our tent. The day was cloudy, and we camped in an open sandy stretch. At about 9p the storm started; thunder, lightning, hard rain and angry winds. My eyes were held open as prisoners all night, as I waited for the storm fit to pass. It didn't.
We've all lost some weight, but were thankfully hefty enough to hold down the tent. I wish I were exaggerating, but the winds were tilting our tent up on its side, and the rain was painfully cold. We waited it out  as long as we could, but we had to eat. Eating is done outside. I told myself that it must sound worse than it really is outside. I forced the guys outside, to eat a bit, but once outside, we realized that we were tent bound. Really, there was no way we could go out to hike. I brought in emergency blankets and we somehow kept the rain  out all day, played cards and read a bunch.
Cold. Wet. Disappointing day.

Foot, bod update:

Max has cut his feet a number of times from running outside without boots (freedom from the backpack), and is nursing the old burn as it heals. Nate is being bitten by Mosquitos, but has acquired no real injuries. I have been ok; mosquito bites and a little dizziness. My foot is hanging in there. No blisters. We are slimy and silly but intact. Overall, I think this is an acceptable bill of health.
I am sleepy by 8p, and happy for the simplicity of our bed/ dinner/ sleep routine. The boys are still bickery and spazzy, but they play, they share, they help. Origami guys in cloaks are the craze this week, and they play cards every night, and laugh like crazy.

8. 2. 14 Up and Over and Lunch On Top

Tonight Nate said, "I usually don't like to talk like this because it's embarrassing, but 
We.    Climbed.  Mather.  Pass.  "
Four guys passed us on our late morning start: Pete, Cracker, Josh and Ryan. All passed us individually and were randomly spaced out, although Josh and Ryan were in the same group. We were a greeting committee for all who passed, while lounging, collecting water and enjoying the time before our steepest ascent, Mather Pass. Yesterday we spent hours of hot hellish climbing as we made our way up, but we had been told that the last 1500 ft in elevation would test all of us; ( to be beaten only by Forester, and Whitney). So everyone had a sort of " this is gonna hurt" face on, mixed with a big gulp- dive in- urgency to just get it done.
So hard.
So big.
So steep. 
Nate's ability to find substeps up to the giant steps, as well as his coordinated dance through very loose (now large rolling stones) rock paths, blew my mind. Max is still our leader, and will tell us when we are close to the top, since he runs a switchback length ahead. The last ten zigzags were so steep and so hard to climb with packs and without hands, that Nate started to break. I was wondering how much more I could handle too, when we heard, "TOP!"
Max made it.  His call pushed us up quickly, where we saw three of our four friends, sitting on rocks, silently smiling.  We did it.
Sounding like a broken record, I was once again touched by the kindness of strangers. These guys were so psyched that we made it, and made the boys feel so super cool. They donated treats and candies to our diminishing supply, and fueled a three mile long talk about candy, and cool guys. From LA, San Diego and New Jersey; I wish we could invite you to a formal night of dining with peanut butter, Nutella crepes and instant hot cocoa. Thank you so much. So so much.
The path down was a breeze and the guys were happier and more proud than I have ever seen them. This one made a mark. 

8. 1. 14 Up to Mather

Today was by far our toughest and superheroest day. We are sitting just below Mather Pass, because I couldn't push us up. We walked over the dreaded, loose, melon-sized rocks, which would roll and slide beneath our feet as we climbed. We stretched up stone steps that required a hand up. We walked up such a severe angle, in the hot sun, to 11,000 ft in elevation. I have no idea how the boys did it. In fact, Natey carried me through a terrible section with nonstop stories about his favorite video games, and why they are clearly the best. I thought nothing could best the tenacity and perseverance shown on Bishop Pass, but today they were something to see.
With 1500 ft in elevation left to climb, and 4 miles, I bailed. We needed sleep. Tomorrow we will meet the peak of Mather and zigzag down the other side. If we can manage to use the same timeline for the next two passes, then we might make it to Onion Valley Trailhead and Independence PO in the next 4-5 days.
Check this out:

So cool.

Screaming Trees

The trees along the slope down were clawing at the granite hill, tipping over and reaching out for dear life. They are frozen stories to me, and I am too tired to shoot them all, but I hope to sketch them..as I see them. 
I saw an old grey woman with hip length hair, wrapped around her fallen and pleading body. Her mouth screamed as she slid down the stream-streaked mountain, past three other stoic fallen friends, who lay asleep, without a fight.
I saw two trees entangled and holding on to each other with half their limbs and dramatically pulling away with the others. They are mismatched trees in appearance, and one looks as if it is sucking life from the other; dark brown and virile, while the other is a gorgeous caramel with black spots and aged edges. They were a tragic romance and magnetically in love.
I saw a young sequoia, fat and perky with long white fingers creepily stretching out from its belly.
Iguanas on their backs squealing.
Giant tarantulas climbing the rocks with rotten limbs and eaten faces.
I see, I see, I see.

7. 31. 14 Be The Rain

Today it rained. All day. We climbed 2 miles up--like huge stone steps, 65 degree incline, into the clouds, up. Stopped to make a cave in the freezing rain once before the sign Bishop Pass, and under a tree hut on the way down. This pass was broken up over yesterday and today, so I felt obligated to kill the pass, and climb down to our original trail. We had been off the JMT for three days. But it rained. And rained. My pack wasn't covered properly, and the tent outside it and top pocket were soaked; weighing me, not down but, back. I didn't figure it out for a while and thought I was being a baby, but it felt like an elf jumped on the back of my bag.
The boys were so cool. So strong and funny. They made jokes in the rain and maneuvered such tricky, wet steep rocks and rivers like pros. The walk down from Bishop Pass was marked as 6.8 miles away from the trail we wanted. We walked hard, but the 6.8 was endless. My feet were screaming, Nate said his were dead. We camped as soon as we hit the trail. Tent, ramen, M&M dessert, bed. 

Swimming at our campsite

7. 29. 14 Bishop Pass

We slept until 7:30a, because it was raining. Pouring actually, all night long. I imagined our food to be soaking and mixing and bubbling under our tarp in the rain. Cold. But at 7:30a, everything was fine; just wet. We packed our wet things, and climbed up to Bishop Pass.
Sure is a big one. Steep, rocky and notably challenging.

Taking a more thoughtful and relaxed step has been so luxurious, and lifted the stress of schedule a bit off my head, although we still need to keep up a decent pace. This choice of strategy was a wise one. And returning to our trail was something we all looked forward to doing. Passing a number of hikers on the way, we agreed that the people we met on side trails are different than those on the PCT or JMT. Less glowy. I wonder which kind of hiker we are...maybe we make up a separate category, altogether.

The guys did a fine job of cutting up this biotch of a pass. We stopped shy of the top, to find a site. We are plopped down next to a green, sparkly lake, and under snowy mountains.

This is the boys' Cliff bar advertisement

7. 28. 14 The Bishop Decision

"Mammoth is the last easy way out of here until Independence, and we've got some hard country ahead of us." 
I had a battle between my pride, fear and determination and the picture of Nate's face when stuck in sadness, rolling in my head all night. Christian had seen the boys after the hot desert death forest, and told us about Mammoth being our last transit city for a while. In fact, our sleepover in Mammoth was only partially to let them rest, and mainly for me to plot our options. This was how I understood the situation:

First priority, to have an amazing and safe adventure.
Second priority, accomplishment.

Unfortunately, the step off the trail and into real life had an adverse effect on the men. Their hunger was unyielding, their need for everything they saw was exasperated, and their desire for gluttonous behavior was frothing at the mouth. Totally normal I think, but too hard to swallow while I had all this indecision buzzing in my head and belly.  My discomfort in indecision, mixed with my beastly boys, kept me up all night in the stupid hotel. I missed hiking. Really. Really I did. Wow.
So here's what we did:
We forwarded our Ranch resupply to the post office at Whitney Portal. There was a bus leaving to Bishop from Mammoth at 2p, and we bought tickets. We ate breakfast in the Colorado-sporty town center, and watched as the sky opened up and let loose a strong rain that tapered off by our departure. And then we skipped town and headed back to the trail.
I felt horribly guilty about shaving 72 miles off. Well, we will need to add 14 mi to get back on the trail from Bishop, and we will pick up miles when we hop off the trail to retrieve our resupply in Independence CA, so it won't be too disappointing, I rationalized. Still, it felt like a huge cut. In the end, this cheat jump allows us these important things:

A safe and amazing adventure,

time, with a plentiful new supply of food

and accomplishment.

So I swallowed my pride, and got excited for Bishop in the rain.
We were dropped off at a Kmart in the middle of a 4000 person town. Take yourself through this; you're shopping for windex and storage bins, and two boys with enormous rain ponchos and their backpackedmother ask you where the trail is. Kmart thought we were insane, and it seemed as if they had never seen the likes of us. I wasn't worried yet, but this was my first solid wall on this trip.
A woman at the customer service desk asked where we were going and kindly offered to look over some topological maps from her car. It turned out that we had to pick up the trail a good distance away from the Kmart, so I asked if Bishop had cabs.
Smile. Nope.
Her name was Brooke, and I have no idea why she trusted us, or lent her help, but she did. She offered us a ride to the trailhead. I knew she was a mom because she talked in we's; "we can take you!" Even though she was alone. She had good eyes, and we needed the help, so we took it.
In order to take us, she had to drive to a friend's home to collect her two adorable little girls, who she planned on squeezing in around our gigantic, imposing bags and bods. "No big deal, we'll figure it out," she sang--so matter of factly and so sweetly, as if it were her pleasure to drive us all around. So nice. So nice. We met Brooke's daughters and friend, and they all rearranged their evening (for us) so that the girls would stay put, while we were driven to the trailhead. Dinner and babysitting were all altered. Unreal. 
The ride was significant in distance, and tricky in the rain. The boys were riding a rare sugar rush in the backseat, while Brooke and I exchanged stories and traded author and audiobook suggestions for our kids. With the warmth of a nurse and old friend, she never judged, or made us feel anything but comfortable and lucky. The finest lesson from John Muir's Trail has been found in the people, and I would love if this truth of goodness crept into the boys' souls and memories forever.
I do hope you write, Brooke, the second mom I've met on this trip. I cannot thank you enough. The boys and I would have been walking on a road, in the rain, without your help. Be well, and you have a friend in Cambridge if you ever find yourself out east!

The trailhead was marked clearly with signs indicating paths to the JMT. The entrance wore a Winnie the Pooh looking sign that read,
Trail.
It was sprinkling and 5p, but we had to at least get to a site for the night. With extra energy from our pig outs and cushy rest, we hiked up a chunk of the mountain super fast. The rain started pelting and we saw snow on the ground...but we were happy! All of us! Look at the snow! This is our best mountain yet! Now to be fair, I have no idea how challenging this was, and I'll look up exactly what we hiked tomorrow, but I am going to bask in the happiness and fun of our return, for now. Return to the dirt. We set up in the rain at the mountain top, ate under a circle of trees and retired to a dry tent for cards and reading. The walk was beautiful; a welcome change from the days that burnt our spirits. We are back, and I feel better out here.

7. 27. 14 Day Off

Four miles to Reds Meadow, which is rumored to have a restaurant, a store for resupply and housing with showers. We had also been told that the town of Mammoth was a fun place with a hip village and civilization galore. All of this translates into cheeseburgers or breakfast. An early start got us to Reds by 10:30a, after seeing Devils Postpile Monument (one of the tallest columnized structures of basalt; I think it formed through the uneven cooling of magma thousands of years ago). The monument is a cliff that is striped and layered with crystal looking chunks in black and emerald green. Super pretty and rich and deep, and it emerges from the death forests with an ominous darkness. Anyway we made it to Reds, and sat our dirty selves in the cafe. There we met two other JMTers, and the lovely couple who ran the place. Devan put extra whipped cream on the hot cocoas, and let us move in to the restaurant, while we charged everything. The boys had the Packers' Special: 3 giant pancakes, scrambled eggs and sausage. I had the regular egg breakfast, and none of us came close to finishing. Our stomachs are babies now. We learned that, what we called, the dead forest was in fact a dead forest, killed by a fire followed by a wind storm. The fire left many trees dead, but standing, and the storm tore them all down. Poor trees. 

The day was open after breakfast and a big resupply. To hike or slack? We opted for a trip into Mammoth, vowing to start early on Monday. 
Currently, I am lying on a cheap hotel bed with a clean Nate, reading on me. I washed everything, since I suddenly feel dirty in this clean place. We ordered pizza and now are fat, sick seals;  lying on the bed with the tv on. What a weird week this has been. 
Here is where I contemplate our situation. Is the down Nateness something that will worsen with time (we are currently at about 63 mi)? We have a stop at VVR, to play and eat big, in 3-4 days, and the Muir ranch soon after that. Then nothing. 
So I've pitched the following: we set off tomorrow to Duck Lake (a side trail) and rejoin the JMT, or we use the transit system here (the last for a while) to skip ahead to Bishop. This shaves 70 mi off our 220 mi hike, which might be more manageable, and I think bears no shame whatsoever on our feat. The decision lies with the red man, and I will be judging based on his transparent eyes and heart, what we will all do tomorrow.
Stay tuned...

Cast of Characters

Dan and Walt

Dan is sixty years old and doing John Muir Trail again with his friend Walt. He is from Chicago, and the boys latched onto him at Curry Village. He and Walt passed us a few times in the first 50 miles, and showed us kindness and guidance; since I don't know what I am doing. I hope we see them again, but if not, happy trails guys!

Larry
We have passed and been passed by Larry along the trail. Always a friendly face and sweet to the boys. "Ah my favorite hiking family!" was his smiley greeting to us.

Annie and Judy
Annie is seventy and taking her "baby sister Judy" (67) to Mt Whitney. Awesome.

Matt et al
Grad school aged guys who cheered the boys on, and later fished in a creek under Donahue Pass with Max. They were flying through the trail before school started, and most likely will finish in 20 days. Max adored them.

Oeuvre (totally could have the name wrong) from Germany
Super nice guy on sabbatical who was meeting up with his family. Had traveled many of the trails between Canada and Mexico, running through CA, and was planning on showing his kids the west, the Grand Canyon and Monument Park.

Christian
Everything everyTHING he says is positive, happy and educational. He was truly aiming to soak up the beauty and drive of this journey. Did you know that dragonflies hatch their eggs in the water? He knew that. So nice, such a cheerful guy.

Al and Mark
I believe they try to steal time each year to walk this trail. They were our saviors at Donahue Pass, when they literally donated a week's worth of meals to us, just out of niceness. I was so surprised by this that it moved my faith in humanity meter to the right; humans are winning again. Thank you.

Vermont Couple
Atop Donahue along with many marmots, we met a retired couple from Vermont. They spent a sunny part of the afternoon telling stories of camping with nieces and nephews. He had hiked many of the trails, but this was the first time for his lady friend.

The Juggling Guy
We only saw him a couple of times but we talked about him a lot. He had juggling balls sticking out of his pack, in case he needed them. He was always smiling when we saw him.

San Diego Fireman and the couple from Chapel Hill
We met these guys at the restaurant at Reds, and all three had seen us on the trail. We are celebrities. They included us in conversation, making our breakfast feel like a big family party. All taking time off to see this amazing trail.

Three Guys and a Fire
We were in a low morale place when these three invited us to share a campfire and commiseration. Nick decided in Jan to walk the JMT and sort of forgot about the plan, come July. As it approached, he sprung into planning mode, and asked two friends to join him (two weeks before the start date). They hope to finish in 21 days. These guys made us laugh and feel normal for the first time I'm a while. Their bear story is a family favorite now, and we tell it to everyone who asks , "Have you seen any bears?" Have fun and keep your feet blister-free!

Devan and Brad (?) totally forgot your name, but I do that; please don't be offended!
The great people of Reds Cafe. They are getting married soon and traveling the world. Unfortunately we found our camera, but I was hoping it might turn up there and help record their adventures. Have a great trip and thanks for making us feel at home.

7. 26. 14 Ediza to Reds

Today was a grumpy day for all of us. I'm reevaluating how long we should walk this trail. When Nate is down, he is so down that every hiker stops to make sure he's not dying. This is entirely mental, but nothing I can fix.. so it's real and real bad. We stopped to swim and clean up, mmmmm, and that rejuvenated the boys, but the crank was back as soon as we picked up again. I need to decide if his negativity is ruining the trip for him, or if it is passing, like many of the moods and ordinary grumpiness we all feel from time to time. It's equally as mental a battle for me, and tugging at my gut strings.

I cut my hair shorter, though I doubt it's an improvement. I am a grease monkey. Nate likes telling new folks that " ..mom lost her phone, but I found it.." and "..mom cut her hair on the trail.."

The path turned to a sandy forest after the lakes, which is strange. Most of our day was spent walking through tree cemeteries. Hot. Dead. Torn up by the roots, frozen and petrified white, branches looking like piles of bones. It was big and dwarfing, but so depressing.

Stopping at a creek for water, I thought I should feed the beasts a quick second lunch. No quick lunches left so I cooked noodles. Max spilled his noodle soup, scalding his leg. The cold creek and antibiotic cream helped, but it shook me a tad. He's ok. He heals like an immortal. But it is fair to say that Max is extra careful when eating now. The fun below made it feel better; bridge carving:

We pressed to get close to Reds Meadow, which has a store and restaurant, but fell 4 miles short. Not at all the boys' fault (although I may like to come back and do this thing light and quick and solo), I was just as tired in the bones. We found our worst site yet, and I am hoping we get out of the woods and along the creek early tomorrow. Plan is to get breakfast at Reds.

7. 25. 14 Campfire Courage

My watch says July 24... Hmm. I think it's the 25th. Today we packed camp faster than ever. I'd like to hit many lakes and get a lot done. Impossible to predict. Nate has fallen twice already, and we are not wearing backpacks or walking yet. We need vitamin E for our skins. I have some, but we need more; it seems to be a new magical cure out here. Hope hope to wash boyos today; we are so dirty. Right now the guys are echoing into the mountain caves, off our breakfast spot.

Our hike today was up and down, through woods and mountains, over volcanic rock and weird cobblestone. We saw at least four lakes, and seemed to weave in to the shore and then away from the lake. The meandering trail was annoying me, and I noticed some growing crankiness for this goddamn beauty. So beautiful. So. But today was the first day I felt tired and pressed. We keep falling behind. I keep trying not to care. My back hurts and we smell bad. Today I was cranky.

I'm not as tired as I am at home, truth..but I am beat. I think it's ok to admit it.

The lakes are ice cold, but so lovely. The scenery matches my memory of so many oil paintings that families in the 80's hung. We crossed a few waterfalls and discovered a new favorite food: hazelnut butter and chocolate. This was a gift from Al and Mark, and Nate and I licked the wrappers clean. We are disgusting now, did I mention?

We run into the same groups and have developed a neighborhood feel on the mountain. Our neighbors tonight just invited us to a campfire. I'm so gross, so tired, it's my bedtime, 7:00p, but I might slick the hair and go. The boys love this part. 

Went to the fire. Glad we did. We heard a great, great bear story from a great bear story teller. These campfire boys decided two weeks ago to start their adventure, and were a really nice bunch for us to laugh with. The tallest camper told Nate how hard he thought this trail was, and that he had been breaking down too. They were all tired and blistered and dirty, just like us. Sitting with them was a little like a sigh of relief, I think. They were friendly and funny and super charismatic and sweet to my boys. We left by 8:15a, which was past all of our bedtimes; big and small people but it was a great late night.

7. 24. 14 First Kindness

Today we woke early to conquer Donahue Pass before the sun. This is nearly impossible to do, but I am getting better at it. My morning:

6:30a wake

6:45a gather pieces inside the tent to begin packing. Collecting dirty socks and underwear, and clothes if I think there will be time to wash and dry.

Pack bags without major pieces (like the sleeping bags, tent, food) and wash clothes in the river.

7:00a wake boys because my hands are too cold to zip (I hate zippers) or unlock the bear canisters, and lay out clothes and tent fly in the first strong bits of sunshine.

7:30a  boys are up, dressed, hungry, cold and sort of helping to pack up.

8:00a finish eating oatmeal, vitamins, brushing teeth and drinking power drinks.

8:30a everything is cleaned and packed, and the wet clothes are pinned on the bags to dry.

Somehow we lose an hour here. Bathroom for the three of us, filtering water and running around seems to eat 60 minutes, and soon the sun is hot.

It is almost always hot when we begin.

Donahue is steep, but not as steep as we had seen. Last night I was also awake, trying to calculate our food supply and our next stop. We were walking slower than I stupidly imagined, and at Tuolumne, the boys and I completely forgot about breakfast, while shopping at the small store. I was quietly freaking out. As we walked up Donahue, we rhymed and played name that tune, and I weaseled in the fact that we might need to eat ramen for breakfast for a couple of days. They were totally fine with it. We met three hikers on the way up who chatted about the boys, and asked our story..and somehow food came up. I told them I was carrying the food weight, and Max chimed in that were down to ramen, so it wasn't too heavy. They automatically opened their bags and loaded us up with every food imaginable (dried food). Insisted on it. Selflessly. Kindly. I tried to pay them or do SOMEthing, but they laughed at me. It was just kindness for goodness sake. Al and Mark, thank you.

Not two minutes later two other hikers ran over to us with "overages" cliff bar goodies. Just because they bumped into Al and Mark. Just to be good. I was floored, touched and adamant that the boys and I find a way to pass these deeds on. Amazing goodness.

Back to the hike: the rest of the day was supposed to be downhill. It was, which is also difficult, but the drag of today was the never ending nature of our walk. We approached Island Pass at about 3:00p, and it was by far the hardest we had seen in a while. Maybe it was the surprise of it, or maybe it was just that we were sunburned and beat, but the top never seemed to come. Walking with Nate is psychologically and physically draining because he is very slow, which means I am very slow. This makes everything heavier, thicker and more painful. Max ran ahead and bounded up the mountain with ease, like he often does, and reached the top and the water before us. We meant to stop at Thousand Lakes, but I couldn't bear two more miles at 5:30p. Nate was wrecked today, and so was I, so we camped as soon as we reached the top. Special note: Nate crossed 21 rivers on teetering rocks today. He also told me "I hate this." I asked later if he really hated our trip, and he said "No! I love the camping. And I don't like to make a big deal, but I am really proud of my hard work. I only hate when I fall and when it's really hard. But I also like when I'm done with the mountains." Yay.

Ramen. Dessert from Al and Mark. Kindles. Log. Bed.

7. 23. 14 Skipping Stones

Skipping rocks, climbing mountains again. Trying to get over Donahue today. I was disappointed to find that I misread the hike out of Lyell Canyon, for the pass. We were spoiled for a couple of days with relatively flat walks. I am starting to worry about our timing, and hope that we pick up speed. The set up and breakdown of camp is speedy now, as is the water filtering and cooking. But it's hot, and cold, and keeping them hustling is a challenge. Up until today, I haven't engaged that line of thought, but we need to average more than six miles a day, in order to manage reserves, from now on. Max is doing well; strong, happy and cranky, on and off. Nate is truly persevering. This is rough on him, and he ends every peak or long day with "this is really amazing." This might totally be for my benefit, because Nate does that, but when one's body is as tested as our bodies have been, then polite, protective conversation doesn't often prevail. 

So far:

Sunburn

Splinter

Scrape

Runny nose

I am carrying a lighter pack, down from 38lbs after our resupply, to around my starting weight of 32lbs, and my back is hanging in there. Our skin wears a dark layer, and my hair is moldable, but its kinda fun to be this dirty.

Boys are loving it. 

We just met a guy FINISHING the JMT. Awesome. A dad. He cheered the boys on.

When I was six, I think, I went to Rhode Island with my family and my Aunt's family; (yes, six, Corinne was potty training). My idol was five years older than I, my cousin Marialisa. She has the greatest laugh and beautiful long hair, and was just as cool as I could imagine. She found a starfish on this trip and dried it as a souvenir. Cool.

The house we stayed in was (I have since been told) barely standing. I remember it was crooked and that I could hear the waves crash as I went to sleep. This was a new sound, in a strange house, and I remember being put to bed earlier than everyone else, which meant I also heard voices and laughing outside the door. I was out of place, knowing I should be excited and super happy like everyone else, but I was anxious and unsure of how to be. And the waves kept me up, and everyone was older, and I didn't want to be little.

Yesterday we took half the day to play at the foot of a great big pass. Max fell in love with a bunch of great hikers who, in turn, thought my guys were superstars. Max wanted so badly to be friends with these guys, to be their age, to be big. He was embarrassed of his jammie's, and wanted to go hang out with his (college aged) friends. As I called him into the tent for bed, I saw my mom putting me to bed in Rhode Island, when it was still light out. We were settled at the foot of Donahue Pass, a steep mountain with ice peaks, and along a river. The wind was stronger than at any other site, and this was also the first site we shared with many campers; (off the grid site, I mean). There were voices and pounds of wind that sounded like crashing waves. Max stayed up most of the night whispering to me and reading. I tried to remember to jot this down, and hoped I wouldn't forget how I jumped in and out of my son's head and my mother's head in these last few hours.

7. 22. 14 Lyell Canyon

First Wash Up. Ice Cold.

Toulumne River

Breakfast

7. 21. 14 Tuolumne

Tuolumne! Word is there are burgers and shakes and groceries and bathrooms, campers have been excited to tell the boys. And until today, it was abstract. Today we woke, charged phone and cameras, dried the tent (we were covered in frost this morn.. sun warmed by 9:00a, to about 70 degrees) and took off. The trail today was flat (!) downhill (!) and spoiled us. The boys told all of the hikers coming up from the trailhead " good job! There's some downhill soon!" That sort of encouragement really helped us. 

We hit the trailhead by 2:00p, and took a shuttle bus to the grill. Totally cheating, but also a really weird experience after pooping in the woods and licking oatmeal off our bowl. Caveman came after 3 days. Nate ordered a gigantic double cheeseburger, Max had a small burger and I had a burrito. We all were sick in the belly after. 

Resupplied our bear canisters, bringing my bag back up to full weight, and then ran into a couple of guys who we saw the first night. Shout out to Dan and Walt. We had to eat ice cream, and then followed Dan and Walt to a backpackers camp- which is also more civilized than what we were used to (after just two nights on our own). And now we sit reading, before our long day (hope hope) tomorrow.

7.20.14 Say there? Is that a rumbling in your tumbley?

The climb along Cloud Rest, (which followed up beside Half Dome, but then branched before the real Dome climb), was extremely steep, sandy and peppered with fist-sized rocks. The sun was hot at 10:00a and those rocks rolled underfoot, and tripped Natey and me a number of times. Switchbacks, straight up, the whole path up was brutal and tested us all. I might have quit were I not the mom, I may have let them quit had I not seen a switch in their stance. Despite the whimpering (all of us took turns hitting that cry point) the boys kept stopping to say "wow." Wow. So long as they continued to be blown away, I kept them walking.

Again, aGain I say, we hear thunder. Rain too, growing louder and coming from our right. We braved it with ponchos for as long as we could (still clawing up the mountain, mind you), but then we were too wet and it wasn't letting up, so we gave in. We hid between two rocks with Tyvek draped over us. Max held one corner, I had the other. The temperature dropped drastically, and Nate fell asleep. Mombrain freaked inside and screamed "hypothermia! Get him out of here!" I pinned the top corner with my foot, and brought both boys into cuddle and warm on me. We sat like that for an hour and a half. Just sitting, talking, waiting for the sky to get it all out of its system.

And then it stopped. And Nate woke mid sentence, like he does, and we shook off the wet, and climbed. We would have passed the rock monster had it not been for the storm, but Max caught sight of it as we turned out of our cave hole. Obligatory pictures..they are all obligatory- respect for the dream we were walking through. We got to Cathedral Lakes to camp, with a pretty painting view.

Tomorrow we eat at Tuolumne!

Psst, it's working. It's still unclear how far we will make it, especially at this rate, but Max points out loose rocks and roots for Nate to avoid. Nate uses branches and boulders to steady his balance when jumping. Cranberries and Ramen are the most delicious treats ever. We made up poop, root, rock, cone, and other hiking video games. It's not breaking us, it's adding to us.

Things I say now:

Don't walk near the edge or you will fall off the mountain.

Lick the sides of your bowl, add water and drink it down.

Max go filter some water, Nate get the stove.

Did you bury your poop? Hand sanitizer..