PCT Day 38 – Running by Reds Meadow

Of the dozen or so people in camp with me, I am the first one out. Still I feel like I’m late. I am going to attempt to go 17 miles to a spot that should put me in a good position to reach Vermillion Valley Resort two days later.

The John Muir Trail diverged from the PCT yesterday at 1000 Island Lake. I followed the JMT to Shadow Lake. Next up on the JMT is a massive climb to Rosalie Lake. I really don’t want to do this so I am taking the Shadow Lake Trail back to the PCT. It is a little risky because I have very little information about the Shadow Lake Trail. It could be a real wreck. The Shadow Lake Trail goes along the north side of Shadow Lake then follows the outlet of the lake down to where it merges with the middle fork of the San Joaquin River.

Shadow Lake is one of those deep alpine lakes with both an inlet and outlet. Here is what the inlet looks like as I turn toward the Shadow Lake Trail. It looks very promising.

As I walk along the Lake the sun illuminates the ridge line on the other side.

The trail runs next to the outlet as it tumbles down the canyon.

The sun, still low in the East, shines on the western side of the San Joachim River valley. I am crossing this valley and then following above the river on the dark eastern side.

Back on the PCT

It is Saturday morning on Labor Day weekend. There are a lot of people on the trail going the other way to enjoy hiking and camping around the Lakes behind me. And then, just like that, I am back on the PCT. For a brief moment I am a tree hugger.

And the sun in response finally breaks onto the trail.

Another kind of breakthrough

I am sitting on a log enjoying my first break when I decide to check for reception. I have two bars! My calls to Patti keep going through to voicemail, so I think about what else I want to look at. Frankly, it’s not much. But do see that it’s Saturday and tomorrow is Sunday, so I download portions of the liturgy (the service order) used by my church. Now I can read it on Sunday morning before I hike.

It’s the absence of our normal rituals that makes extended trail life strange. Oddly, I don’t miss them. At least until something brings them to mind. You see, trail life is unmoored from the stable framework I have at home. It’s not not this simplified existence is more real. Upon examination, it is very artificial. But it is all-consuming.

Then occasionally someone will say, “It’s Tuesday.”And all those Tuesday home rituals pop into my heads – grocery day, beer club night, TV shows, church events, birthdays, etc. Some of those things I will do again when I return from the trail, but some will never return to my life, because I have changed or my priorities have. And my friends will look at me and wonder, “What happened to this guy?” And I won’t be able to explain it to them.

The devil again

The devil gets all the good popular references. Today he gets a post pile. The Devil’s Postpile is an interesting geological formation. Google it if you want to see some really good pictures. I did not choose to go out of my way to see it, because you can see it from the trail. Here is one poor photo to whet your appetite.

See all those vertical rock columns. Each one has six sides and is taller than a telephone pole.

Getting it done

I have hiked 11 miles by noon. This is good. I make it past all the day-hiker side trails and get back to serious PCT trail. The area just south of Red’s Meadow is an old burn.

I manage to find a shaded spot next to a small stream. I have my lunch there.

The rest of the afternoon is just hard uphill hiking. I am startled out of my stupor by a bunch of commotion up ahead. I barely get my camera rolling before it’s all over. It’s a mule train! The Muir Trail ranch south of here gets mail and supplies once a week via mule train. I wonder if this is that one.

Camp

In camp there are others scattered around, like I like it. Jenny has been set up a while. She is not interested in going fast. She just wants to take her time and enjoy the trail. She is meeting someone at Mount Whitney in 18 days to go rock climbing. Until then she is going to hike just a few hours a day. Moving slow means carrying more food, though. At some point she figures she will need to carry 11 days worth. That’s way more than I would like to do!

The last person goes by the name Fugitive. “I’m a fugitive from Russia,” she says. She IS from Russia. She is one of the Sobos that started in Washington. She had to skip some huge portions of the trail because of fire, but she is here now and still looking to go to Mexico. We are trying to go into VVR on the same day, so I think I will see her again.

She is fun to talk to because she doesn’t know much English. When she really gets stuck she has you talk into her phone and it converts your words into Russian.

• September 3
• Starting marker: 917.8 (JMT)
• Ending marker: 901.1
• Miles hiked today: 17
• Total PCT miles: 449
• I’m a fugitive from real life