- Today’s miles: 12.1
- Ascent: 2,222 ft
- Descent: 2,704 ft
- Total Miles on Trip: 180.3
Yesterday evening, Kevin reported finding what he deemed a possible hot spring lake. “It’s not really hot,” he tells me. “But it’s also not cold like all of the other lakes. Somewhere in between.” I’m intrigued by this and I’ve decided to try to swim it this morning.
At 7:45 A.M., I leave our campsite and make the five minute walk to the maybe hot spring. Upon arriving, I peel off my shirt and take a look around me. There’s no outlet of water I can see and the smell of sulfur is in the air. The moment of truth comes and I put my legs in the water. Well, Kevin was certainly right about it not being hot. But it’s also not nearly as cold as the other Alpine lakes we have been dipping in. The temperature reminds me of our high school’s pool during morning practices- chilly but swimmable. I brace myself and submerge underwater. I swim about 30 yards out and then head back. Goosebumps cover my arms but I feel refreshed and happy to have ventured in the water. Kevin arrives shortly after and we boil water for breakfast.
As we began hiking, I ponder the day. July 4th. Before COVID-19 hit, today marks the day I was going to begin an attempt of a southbound PCT-thru hike. I think back to the beginning of our JMT hike when we ran into a PCTer. He told us he had zero experience thru-hiking prior and he regrets not doing something like the JMT to get some experience. Thinking of this, I’m happy to be on the JMT right now. It’s Day 16 of our trip and if anything, the past two weeks have made me more excited for a PCT thru-hike. I realize an 18 day JMT hike is vastly different than four months on the PCT. But this JMT hike is something and some experience is better than no experience.
Around 11 A.M., Kevin and I reach a large suspension bridge. Kevin goes first and I walk directly behind him, climbing up the steep steps. We wobble the hundred yards or so over the swaying wires that connect the bridge. I’m not fond of heights and I’m happy when we reach the other side. Once on the other side, I see a sign that says “One person crossing at a time.” Whoops.
As we hike on after lunch, it’s the hottest it’s been on the trip so far. I see waves of heat shimmering in the distance. Kevin and I reach a lake called Dollar Lake and we decide to actually swim. Not dip but swim. Both of us swim about 200 hundred yards to other side where we lay out on a rock bathing in the sun. Kevin looks down and sees a dead fish floating next to us. He deems this as “Dead Fish Lake”.
Time goes by and finally there’s nothing left to do but begrudgingly get back into the cold water and swim back to the side we came from. As we arrive back to the other side, I’m a little disturbed by how happy I am to be reunited with my pack. I was away from it for 30 minutes and realize I was getting anxious from being separated from it. I know separation anxiety is a thing but I think that normally applies to being separated from people. I suppose no reason it can’t apply to inanimate objects like oddly-shaped backpacks right? It think it may be time to meet and socialize with another group of people on trail.
Our camping destination for the day is Rae Lakes which is only two more miles. We pass by all kinds of hikers, seeing more hikers today than all of the other days combined. We talk to a couple of them and they all tell us that they are doing the “Rae Lakes Loop”. I have no idea what that is but I nod my head. A group of three guys are sitting off to the side of the trail and as I walk by, one of them points to my lightweight umbrella that’s on the side mesh of my pack. “Look”, he says to his friend pointing to my umbrella. “He also has an umbrella.” I nod at him and as our eyes meet, he asks me “Is carrying an umbrella like a thing now?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “It’s provided some nice shade.”
“But isn’t it annoying having to carry it?”
“I usually don’t carry it.” That’s why it’s in my pack right now, I think, but I don’t say that part to him. He goes back to talking to his friends and I continue my hike. We go by groups and groups of day hikers, all smelling like fresh laundry detergent and soap.
At last, we reach Rae Lakes which turns out to be massive. I feel hot, tired, and crowded with all of these people around. I try to take inspiration in what I’m sure is the spectacular scenery of Rae Lakes. But my mind just keeps going back to how tired I feel. Today was suppose to be our “easy day”, I think. 11 miles or so and no major passes. Maybe today I’ll take it easy and hike amazing tomorrow?
I kill time before dinner by dipping in the lake and reading a few chapters of Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee. Dinner comes around and I share a lemon flavored olive oil packet with Kevin. As Kevin and I are cleaning-up from dinner, a group of five backpackers set-up camp near our site. They look about our age and I get to chatting with one of the girls from the group, who introduces herself as Hot Pants. I learn that Hot Pants and another girl from the group thru-hiked the PCT two years ago. She also enlightens me about the Rae Lakes Loop which they are currently doing, a 40 mile loop that “makes a nice three night trip”
“Have you guys had dinner yet?” she asks me. When I tell her yes, she says we should come and hang out with their group anyways.
Kevin and I join them at a couple of ticks past 8 P.M. A couple of other hikers come (from where I have no idea?) and all of the sudden the group has reached 10 people. As often happens in groups, multiple conversations breakout and I get to chatting with the couple of people around me. One of them is a rep for Gossamer Gear AND works at an REI located in the Bay. Talk about getting hooked up with gear!
Hot Pants talks to me about trail names, the social dynamics of being on trail, and a number of other PCT-related topics. I find the conversation about the social scene for PCT thru-hikers to be the most interesting. “There’s a surprising amount of drama on a thru-hike,” Hot Pants says. “PCT hikers are forming and breaking trailationships all of the time.”
“What’s a trailationship?” I ask.
“It’s a romantic relationship with another person on trail,” Hot Pants replies with a look of amusement in her eyes.
Hot Pants also talks to me about trail families, which are groups of people you embark on your hike with. You may have known these people heading into your hike, or as often happens, you meet them out on trail and end up grouping with them. I can see the social benefits of such an arrangement, along with conveniences such as splitting hotel rooms and what not. But, as with any group of people you spend a lot of time with, I’m sure you can get sick, tired, and annoyed with them at times.
It all reminds me a bit of being back in college again but on steroids. College was fun because you are surrounded by a bunch of people who are doing the same thing as you- going to college. Now one may argue that hiking from Mexico to Canada is an even stronger shared connection, and I imagine that’s a big reason why many thru-hikers describe their time on trail as some of the most meaningful human interaction they have ever had.
The conversation rolls around to Kevin and I hiking the JMT. Hot Pants asks me what I’m going to miss most about being out here and I immediately reply “The simplicity of a day. You wake up, put all the belongings that you need in your pack, have breakfast, and then start to hike. And then you stop for lunch, maybe take a little a nap, and then hike some more. You pick your little campspot for the night, eat dinner, and then sleep. And then do it over again the next day.” Eating, hiking, and sleeping is probably how 90% of time is passed out here. I look to see if Hot Pants is following what I’m saying or if I sound crazy to her. She nods her head yes, and I continue on.
“Big decisions include whether you have beef tacos or buffalo chicken ranch for dinner. Do you use your one remaining mayo packet today or save it for tomorrow? It’s refreshing to make decisions on a much smaller scale out here as compared to real life.”
As I here myself say this, I think of the difference between simple and easy. Hiking a 16 mile day up and down steep and rocky terrain with 35 pounds on your back is far from easy. But it’s not exactly complicated. You know what to do- hike, hike, hike. You begin to realize that the only enemy in your path, the only obstacle you need to overcome is yourself. Your mind will try to tell you that you can’t do it, that it’s too hard. But giving up isn’t an option right? In the real world, when things get hard you can stop what you’re doing and find another thing to pursue. Maybe another job, another hobby, another relationship. You don’t have that luxury out here- no one is coming to rescue you. Only you can get you over that next pass, make it to the next day. And when you come out on the other side, it’s a feeling of triumph and confidence that only comes from within.
At some point, I notice it’s only myself, Hot Pants, and another girl remaining in our once group of ten. A full moon appears in all of its brilliance, lighting up the lake and surrounding mountains in a way that I didn’t know was possible. It’s so bright that it could be mistaken as morning. The three of us don’t seem to want to go to bed, but finally another hiker comes out and tells us “It’s way past hiker-midnight, and not to be rude, but you guys are hella loud.” I look at my watch which reads 10:30 P.M. Shit! But I think the social conversations have done me more good than an extra hour or two of sleep. I say goodbye to my two new friends and head to my tent, feeling content and happy.
