7/19-7/25: Finishing the John Muir Trail

More beautiful Sierra Flora.

PCT vs. JMT

VVR was a blast. I spent most of my time recuperating and playing the resort’s hiker guitar. Throughout the Sierras there are *a lot* of hikers who are not hiking the PCT. There are lots of people simply on multiday backpacking trips. There are also a lot of people hiking the John Muir Trail. VVR is one place where all hikers come together to rest and share trail stories. Sometimes there is also a little bit of competitive but friendly ribbing going on. For example, JMT hikers seem to send themselves more food than they need. Hiker hunger is real, for sure, but it usually doesn’t set in until 2-3 weeks into the hike, which would basically be the end for JMTers. You can also spot JMT hikers and weekend warriors by the size of their packs, which were often bloated with excess food, clothing, and other luxuries. For example, many JMT hikers had multiple pairs of shoes hanging from their packs, and you could hear some JMT hikers coming by the cacophonous sound of pots banging and clanging from the backs of their packs. Fresh JMT hikers and weekend warriors also had much cleaner skin and gear than PCTers, whose skin and gear were layered in a consistent film of dirt and dust. JMT hikers and weekend warriors also smell. Now, I do mean to use the term ‘smell’ somewhat pejoratively, but not in the way it is normally used. To say that someone smells usually implies that you can smell their body odor or the fact that they haven’t showered. But you get used to that on the trail and after a couple months on the trail body odor goes largely unnoticed. So what counts as normal to the olfactory eventually changes on the trail, especially by the time you hit the Sierras, and being suddenly hit by an odoriferous wall of shampoo, deodorant, and detergent as fresh JMT hikers and weekend warriors pass by becomes slightly offensive. Of course, the reverse is likely true, and I sometimes wondered if people knew that I was a PCT hiker by how dirty and smelly I was. Or it could have been the deranged look in my eye.

The back of Devils Postpile.

I left VVR via the ferry and hiked over Silver Pass that day. Over the next few days the mosquitos and flies were really bad. I was wearing my black head net a lot and often felt as though I was experiencing the wilderness through the eyes of a newly widowed wife from the Godfather. The next day I stopped at Reds Meadow Resort for a hot lunch and milkshake. I only stayed for a couple of hours and hiked to the Devils Postpile National Monument, which is a spectacular formation of 60 ft columns of basalt (https://www.nps.gov/depo/learn/nature/geology.htm). I took the JMT alternate for 13 miles to 1000 Island Lake, where it rejoins the PCT. I hiked another couple miles past Island Pass, which put me at 14 miles for the day. I was still hiking cautiously to prevent my injuries from flaring up. I thought about stopping, but it was only 2:00 PM and I felt good. So I decided to hike over Donahue Pass that afternoon.

Devils Postpile.

Top of the Postpile.

Banner Peak and 1000 Island Lake

It is What It Is

I think about a lot of things while I'm hiking. Often I think about hiking stuff: how beautiful the scenery is or how depressing the scenery is; how hot or how cold it is; how I'm crushing miles for the day or how much I'm stuggling; etc. Sometimes I think about personal stuff: is this hike a part of some midlife crisis? Sometimes I think about my dissertation and how much I love philosophy (after all). Sometimes I think about whatever news from the frontcountry (as opposed to the backcountry) I manage to get when I'm in a town or have service for a brief moment. Between the mass shooting in Orlando, the potential for a Trump Idiocracy, and the recent shooting of an unarmed black therapist in Miami, I have found myself utterly heartbroken, dismayed, and angry while immersed in some of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen. In light of this, while going over Donahue Pass in the Sierras, I found myself thinking about how much I hate the phrase 'It is what it is.'

Sometimes I've heard the phrase inappropriately used in place of 'Let's agree to disagree', which doesn't make sense since the disagreement was likely over what in fact just is the case. And I suppose that some uses of the phrase are okay. For example, you rush like hell to get to the bank by 6 only to find out it closes at 5. It is what it is. Or you get stood up or never get a call back from a date. It is what it is. (An alternative in these cases might be 'Serenity now! Serenity now!') Still, I think that 'It is what it is' is the worst phrase or "platitude" of 2016 because I often hear it used in more substantial contexts, especially when moral matters are on the line. Thus, I hesitate to even call it a 'platitude' because I think it can be a dangerous phrase. For example, Jones is being dishonest once again. Well, it is what it is. Or, Smith is always dismissive of his female colleague's comments during meetings. Well, it is what it is. Or, there is an overwhelming lack of transparency in the US political system. Well, it is what it is. I hate this phrase because it is a phrase of resignation and I detest resignation. Sure there are some things that just are what they are, such as the fact that the natural number after 2 is 3. But many things are not merely just what they are. I'm not being incoherent. What I mean is that very often things *could* be different with the right kind and amount of effort and very often things *should* be different.

I think that many uses of the phrase 'It is what it is' involve some kind of is-ought fallacy, which was pointed out by David Hume. More importantly, I think that the phrase encourages and spreads intellectual and moral laziness. If by 'it is what it is' you mean something like, 'look, I just don't have the mental or emotional resources to deal with this right now,' then fine, but just say that. But saying 'it is what it is' implies a false objectivity or finality to the matter. So, I think for those of us that do use the phrase, the next time we go to use it we instead have a conversation about how things could or should be different. If not, then it is what it is.

Just over Donahue Pass.

Yosemite Valley

Despite hiking over 800 miles of the PCT and despite the fact that I felt much stronger and my injuries were very manageable, at this point I was feeling that completing the entire PCT was not going to happen for me this season. So it became important to me to hike all the way into Yosemite Valley and at least finish the John Muir Trail as a consolation prize. The PCT and JMT split at Tuolumne Meadows, with the PCT continuing north and the JMT heading west for 22 miles to Happy Isles in Yosemite Valley.  However, a PCT permit does not give you access to the JMT, so I would have to try and get a multiday permit to hike into Yosemite Valley at the Tuolumne Meadows Ranger station. When I left VVR, I was trying to time things so that I would arrive at Tuolumne Meadows on Monday the 25^th thinking that I could beat the weekend crowd and so have a better chance at getting a permit. But I was feeling good and making good miles. I arrived at Tuolumne on Saturday morning. I was scared that I would have to wait a couple of days before I could get a permit into the Valley, but fortunately a was able to give me a two-night permit if I was ready to go that day.  I was, and I hiked another 9 miles that day. The next morning, I hiked to Clouds Rest from where there are fantastic views of Half Dome and Yosemite Valley. I then descended nearly 6000 ft. over ten miles to Happy Isles in Yosemite Valley. I had finished the JMT and in honor of John Muir baptized myself in the Merced River.

Cathedral Peak

At Clouds Rest.

Yosemite Valley was a trip. It was beyond crowded. The vehicle traffic on the roads running through the 2000-foot sheer granite cliffs was insane. I felt like I was suddenly in the South Beach, Miami of the Wilderness. Suddenly I was the one of the few with a backpackers pack on. Suddenly I was the only one with a week’s worth of smell and dirt clung to their body. People looked at me like I was crazy, like I was an outsider who didn’t belong and might ask them for spare change at any moment. I walked into the grocery store that was the size of a Whole Foods and felt just as ostentatious. I bought myself a bag of chips, chocolate milk, a milk way, and two IPAs. Then I parked myself on the wood planked patio outside of the store. I must admit that my initial reaction was pretentious and snobbish. I somehow felt superior sitting on the dirty ground in my filthy clothes being all smelly and drinking my beer— “who the hell are these clean people smelling all cloy driving around in their cars wearing loafers and strolling around like this is a goddamned theme park. I’m the one out here really appreciating nature.” But of course that was just a bullshit reaction. I was suddenly reminded of civilization and felt anxious and defensive. As I sat there on drinking my beer, I quickly came off of my bogus high-horse. I remembered a conversation I had with another hiker, Dillon, who had pointed out that, despite the roads and the crowds, Yosemite Valley was good from a conservation perspective since it kept all of the inexperienced people in one area and limited impact on the backcountry. As I sat there I saw a few people here and there that had limited mobility, and realized that the Valley was important for another reason. There are so many people that really want to experience the sometimes majestic aspects of the wilderness but for various reasons, usually physical, cannot go backpacking, rock climbing, etc. What many of them can do, however, is go to places like Yosemite Valley. Later, I decided to get some pizza in a restaurant close to Yosemite Falls. My seat was next to a window from which there was a great view of the Falls. An older person, who was not in the best physical shape, came up to the window and looked in awe at Yosemite Falls gushing water from over 2000 ft. above. She looked at me and noted that it was unbelievable that we could sit there and see something so utterly beautiful and breathtaking. It was true. And I realized how important it is to have parks that allow access to natural experiences like that to as many people possible.

Vernal Falls