Donohue Pass to Mono Pass

I was heading on a trip on the John Muir Trail from Tuolumne over Donohue Pass and then back around to Tuolumne eventually. Honestly it seemed like the most natural backpack for me to take from where I was living. It took care of a decent chunk of the Park, covering approximately 35 miles. I could not tell because the map that I had only had mileage inside of the Park and nothing for the Forest Service land that I was going to be spending a big chunk of my time within.
The first part of the hike was easy going and gorgeous. I honestly think that anyone could close their eyes, spin around in a circle, point in any direction, and end up someplace exquisite at Yosemite. Lyell Canyon was so pleasant because it was directly in between the Cathedral Range and the Kuna Crest. I was walking in between two dramatic shifts in elevation. I walked a few miles and then right in front of me was Potter Point and Amelia Earhart Peak.
At some points I would be walking right by the Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River and at other times I would be walking in a big open meadow. It was such a nice time of year because the runoff was still so high. I walked for quite a while and soon I was coming to where the trail began getting steeper. I saw a gorgeous sight in the sky after a bit. It was a rainbow that just appeared out of nowhere. The skies were nearly clear blue with no chance of rain in sight. It was crazy, it felt like God smiling on my life.
The smile on my face would only increase with the coming beauty that would appear before my eyes. The trail was steeper and I could see in the background the highest mountain in the Park, Mt. Lyell. At 13,114 feet, I definitely wanted to climb that Peak this summer.
I kept up my approach and soon I was huffing and puffing my way up the steep switchbacks. When I popped out near treeline, I saw some impressive mountain lakes. I filtered some water and just sat there soaking up the scenery for as long as I could take it, then I had to hit the trail again.

Just when I thought that this was the most beautiful lake that I saw in my life, another one would appear over the next set of switchbacks.

 

Now I was face to face with the Lyell Glacier. This was the most difficult part of the climb. One needed an ice axe and crampons to climb Lyell, so any thought of a random climb was out of question on this day. I stared at how awesome the peak was, though, and vowed that I would come back and climb it someday. After this last alpine lake, I was already fairly near to 11,000 feet, so I came out on Donohue Pass a few minutes later. There was a couple up there when I was starting to head down, so I talked to them for a few minutes. They were in such a good mood as most people that you meet in the backcountry usually are.
I was flying coming down from Donohue Pass. Soon I ended up at Waugh Lake which quite possibly could have been the most beautiful lake I have seen in my life. It was long and silver in color. I took a break by the lake as it was already getting late in the afternoon as I was now fifteen miles from anywhere. I just soaked in the beauty of the lake and thought about how lucky I was to get out of the city of Seattle and be there right then.

I decided to just walk a few more miles to the next lake downhill about a mile or so, which I did not know the name of because it was not on my map. I thought it would be a nice place to camp, but I began to question my decision as I approached the lake. See the mosquitoes this time of year were just horrendous. At times, I was honestly running to get away from them. They were huge and attacking at will. I got to the lake and they were just as bad. All I could do was deal with them in their most annoying form as I did not have a tent with me.
I threw down my gear and relaxed. It was just me at this side of the lake. There was another group camping farther down the shore, but I could hear them and not see them. I pulled out my macaroni & cheese and had myself a regular backcountry meal. I was quite accustomed to the bagel with gouda and sausage for lunch and the noodles or mac & cheese for dinner. It was quite a meal for one man.
After dinner, I looked at the beauty that beheld my eyes when the mosquitoes gave me a five second timeout. I decided that the right move would be to have a bath in the lake. I was inspired by a couple people who skinny dipped in Tenaya Lake after playing ultimate. I guess it was just the spirit of Yosemite that just called for anyone and everyone to experience the feeling of being naked in the lake. I hoped that my neighbors did not want to come over at this point, as I stripped off all my clothes and took the plunge.I did not stay in long, but I felt good to wash the grime of the day off me. I got out and I felt wonderful. Then I had to get my clothes on quickly as the blood suckers were on top of me as soon as possible.
I threw out my thermarest, my sleeping bag, and my bivy sack. I climbed in my bivy sack and only had the mosquito net closed. It was quite a strange feeling to be bundled up at 7:30 at night laying down by myself in the middle of nowhere. I actually was not supposed to camp there because it was day use only as there was another trail coming in from the East that was only a few miles from a road. I did not think anyone would ever notice because I was sure that I would be up and out with the morning sunshine. I could not cover up for too long and soon I was reading my book, which at this time was Visions of Cody by Jack Kerouac. Talk about a book that was hard to read. Here I was out in the middle of nowhere and I still can’t even translate what Kerouac really wanted to say with that book. My roommate Andrew told me that he only knew one person who had read that book all the way through. I could see why as it was just one big long sentence. I see the point of artistry in literature, but frankly I need some structure as the reader in order to translate. Oh well, I tried to get his message until the lights went out in the sky. I laid under the stars and checked them out for a while as the mosquitoes went to wherever they go during the night. It was wonderful, I just wished that I could be spending this with someone who would appreciate it with me.
I awoke in the morning to a beautiful sight. The lake in the morning was a spectacular place to wake up rather than a dorm room on campus in Seattle. 
I took off up the hill after gathering up my stuff including the bear canister which I placed far enough away from where I was sleeping so that I did not encounter any bears at night. I slammed down a few pop tarts and then headed straight up. I knew that today was going to be challenging in the early morning hours, especially. Yesterday, I hiked along a flat area for quite a bit before I had to cross a Pass and then was able to coast downhill to my campsite. Today, I had to cross two Passes and another one that was basically unnamed.
    I arrived at the Alger Lakes after passing through some gorgeous country in the early morning fog, not taking any pictures as my camera had run out of film. The Alger Lakes were beautiful, just like anything else in the Yosemite region. There were three of them in the high alpine, which everyone knows makes them quite wonderful. It was a chilly morning, so I did not even think about jumping in.
    After this section, the trail turned into a series of switchbacks. It was also rather steep and that bear canister was starting to feel like a burden that I did not want to have anymore. I still tried to make good time as I hiked up the trail. The trail was steep and brutal, but also amazing. This whole trip was like nothing I had ever seen before on a backpack. The beauty surrounding me every second was in a way like my Grand Canyon trips, except here it would be so varied going from meadows, to lakes, to peaks, to tundra, to forest, and on and on and on. This was by far the best part of the trip when I summitted the Pass between Koip and Parker Peak. Here were two summits side by side, but by the time I got up there, I had no ambition to bag them. It was windy as all get out on top too and I was wondering if I was going to have enough time to make it back before dark. I decided to forget the peak bagging even though I knew that I may never return to that spot again.
    I descended and it was so amazing. I passed by these gullies that drained big amounts of waters with steep waterfalls coming down. I did not descend for too long when I saw a lady run past me. It was completely random frankly because I thought I was so isolated. There must have been some way that she got back there, but me with no vehicle, I was unaware of the easy access to where I was backpacking. She did not even seem concerned with me being there and barely even recognized my appearance. I thought about her for quite a while, as that is the real joy of the backpack, getting to hash out all concerns. It was as if she was a ghost, for I never saw her return. Where could she possibly have come from?
    The trip to Parker Pass was rather disappointing as the rest of my trip goes. Not saying that Parker Pass was not nice, it was just not very challenging to get there as the rest of the passes were. It was actually more downhill than up. There were some gorgeous lakes around Parker Pass and the Kuna Crest was a much different perspective that the flat alpine tundra environment that I was walking in. Mono Pass was much the same as it was less than a mile from Parker Pass. I cruised down and in the late afternoon I was heading for Tioga Road, happy to take the big pack off my back.
    This was not going to be an easy way home, though. I knew that when I got to the trailhead, I was still about three miles from home. This was because the trailhead that I was coming out at was the Dana Meadows Trailhead instead of the Lyell Canyon trailhead where I began. From the Dana Meadows Trailhead to Tuolumne Meadows, there was a trail that hung close to the road, but I was hoping that I could catch a ride. The first option was to pick up the YARTS bus, but as I got to the parking lot, it was just pulling out. I looked at the schedule and it was not due back for over an hour. I could not wait that long, I figured that I could hitch a ride. I was lucky because there was a couple at the trailhead who had just returned from a hike. I got to talking with the guy and he seemed nice enough. That was until I dropped it on him that I was hoping for a ride back to Tuolumne. He became very standoffish toward me. He said that he couldn’t because he did not have any seatbelts for me. I said I did not care considering that he had a Volkswagon van, he could have fit me. But he told me no and took off without reconsidering.
    This frustrated me to say the least. Instead of waiting for someone else or the bus, I took off down the road. I was not going to let setbacks stop my progress toward home. I started walking and considered thumbing it, but I was still annoyed by that prospect. Luckily, the second car that passed me was a girl that I knew from Ranger Camp and our nightly campfires. She was a  climber girl and she picked me up in her Volkswagon bug. I was so happy that I was not going to have to end my hike by walking up the road. She took me home where I immediately made my way down to the community shower and began unpacking for the upcoming week.

Ragged Peak

So, here I am, my first weekend in Tuolumne Meadows, Yosemite, California, United States, North America, Planet Earth and I wanted to spend my Saturday doing what every good youth would do; I was going for a hike. Who’s coming with me? Who’s comin’ with me, man? Uh, nobody. Why would anyone want to come with me? I had no friends, I had no enemies. In fact, I could fall off the face of the earth and no one up there would really care. So I headed up towards Young Lakes. It was a short hike by my standards, only about 10 miles total. I first went by Dog Lake.

This was a popular tourist lake as it was only a mile and a half from the road. Even this was incredibly beautiful and it had the feel of being a secluded wilderness experience even though it was right off the road. I guess that is what the peaks of Dana and Gibbs could do to enhance any view.

I continued for a bit until I got to the base of Ragged Peak. It was an amazing looking mountain. It was perfectly named as it was not as formidable as it was ragged. At the spur of the moment, I decided that I must climb this mountain. I started up it and the nerves raced through my body. All the what ifs came to mind. “What if I slip and fall? Will anyone come out here for the next couple of days? What if I get stuck on a ridge where I can not find my way up?” All these thoughts and many more flew through my mind as I started that upward heave to the summit of the peak. What was the most amazing thought that came over me was, yes! This is why I came here. My whole life had been dominated by my idea of pressing forth my eager insignificance and here it was. This was my chance to go above and beyond me and just do. To feel my lungs struggle for air as I pushed myself harder than I should have to, just to see what’s next. My favorite part of the climb was this little gully halfway up. It was an easy climb, just hard lung work to get up until then, but I found this little gully I had to scramble. It was not scary, just exhilarating to have to use my hands to pull myself up and to nudge my body through some tight cracks. It was so dang green too. The whole way up it was a contrast between beautiful granite rock and small shrubbery. Near the top it got to be a bit trickier. It was called Ragged Peak, so that is what it was near the top. Jagged and sharp, yet strong rock to grab onto that helped me most of the way until the end. The top proved to be a challenge as I had to navigate myself to the back side in order to pull myself up. I got to a point where I could touch the top with my hand and since it was not a point to stand upon, I sat down right next to it and overlooked the rest of the area. The view was spectacular and I was now desperately in love with the Yosemite backcountry. I knew at this point, that if not anything else I could dedicate myself to the exploration of this country. It was strange that an area so close to so many of the most populated sections of the United States could be so exclusive. I looked over at White Mountain and I knew I wanted to climb that.

In fact, every peak that I saw, I knew that I wanted to climb it.

There is just something about sitting on top of a mountain that begins to melt your cares away. It had a lot to do with my current state of mind. In my head, so many questions were rummaging around. Just like those questions about my life, so were the questions of whether I was going to make it up this peak. When I got to the top, those questions were erased and in their place was a new sense of confidence that, yes I can achieve beyond my expectations.

I climbed off the peak and continued on my way to Young Lakes. It was about a mile and a half from where I got off the peak to the Lakes. This was my final destination of the day. I sat down and started to eat my lunch. The lakes were really nice, but it was not a perfect serene experience as the mosquitoes were out in full force this time of year. I scarfed down the food and appreciated what I could, but I got my stuff together and headed back. I took a different trail on the way back, which honestly was not very exciting and frankly you could tell that this was a popular horse destination.

My 20th Birthday

It was my birthday which meant that I could do anything I wanted to, of course. I awoke in the morning to just a few hours of sleep as Steven Klunk kept me up until 1am talking. It was cool, though, because we were getting up early and Steve was going to join my dad and me on a trip up Mt. Humphreys. We awoke around 6am for this hike. We got ourselves packed up and then we were on the road, picking up Brian Hays on the way. My dad was driving us up to the mountain. It was going to be a wonderful hike as my two best friends and I were going to climb the only real mountain in Arizona. I was still sore from the previous week as Brian and I just got back from a five day backpack.

We drove toward the mountain on a dirt road. There was so much snow that when we parked we were still a long ways away. We started hiking in the snow, but sooner than later our feet began to sink in, so we had to put on our snowshoes. Steve was getting his first experience with snowshoes climbing Mt. Humphreys on not that easy of a climb. We took our turns leading. Of course, when I took over, Brian Hays immediately told me that I was going the wrong way. It was nice for me as my dad reassured me that I was doing okay. Brian was probably right as the route got really steep, but we never dropped down again like he thought we would so I could have been right, too. Either way, the route was not easy and began to tire Steve out. When we took our first break, he needed it.

As we kept busting our ass up the ridge, which we finally made it to after a long trek, Steve continued to get tired. Soon he was telling me that he couldn’t make it. I saw Steve tired and defeated by a hike before, but if I encouraged him, he got up the guts to keep moving. But this time, we had to take extra breaks for him until when we were over three hours into the climb, he had to stop and turn back. He said the only thing he wanted to do was die.

Pete: What do you want to do Steve?

Steve: Die

I suggested that he should eat something, so he tried some apple. Soon he was choking and coughing until he almost puked it up. I was concerned but upset at the same time as it seemed like a little bit of acting. I knew he was tired, but I did not expect him to be that tired. He said he could find the way down by just following our tracks and he went by himself.

After he left, we regrouped and the hike was lighter, happier, and more enjoyable. Brian and I busted up as we would cap lightly on Steve, “What do you wanna do Brian?” “Die”. Ha ha ha. We busted out of treeline just ten minutes after Steve left. We could see what looked like the top just a few minutes away. In all actuality, it was more than an hour. Soon the snow thinned out until we were able to take off our snowshoes and leave them behind walking only on the volcanic rocks of Mt. Humphreys. The scramble for the top was on and Brian and I came out on top with him just a few feet behind me. We assumed below that point we were staring at a false summit and not the top, but we were pleasantly surprised to discover it was the actual summit. We spent a little bit of time on the summit eating, sightseeing, enjoying, and goofing around until we knew we had to make our way down. Another Humphreys’ route accomplished.

The hike up took us four and a half hours and it was by far the longest trip mileage wise that I took to get up Mt. Humphreys. We scrambled our way down and I began to have problems with my gaiters, which made it annoying to have snow down my boot and a wet foot. The trip down was a good tiring, boring three and a half hours. Right near the car we found Steve crashed out in a dry spot. I was afraid that he was going to be pissed off at me, but he was just glad to be off the mountain. I guess Steve had not acquired the mountain spirit that my dad passed to me and Brian Hays naturally owned.