Day 7: Red's Meadow Resupply -> Lake Virginia
/16 Miles / Ascent +4,139 feet / Descent -1,503 feet
Gus' tent at dusk, Lake Virginia
Day 7: A Fellowship Fractures
Ahhhh - the sweet sounds of....15 tent groups packing up in the Red's Meadow campground.
And, of course...there was Lindsay and Tyler chirping away. I knocked on their fly. Lindsay was off to the restroom so I lay down next to Tyler in their 3 person tent. It felt like a cathedral. Here we were, two 6'2", 200lb guys comfortably lying together, having morning chat. It felt so roomy...but I also knew that Tyler was carrying the whole thing - at 4 lbs his was twice the weight of my 1-person version.
We started talking about sleeping pads and he offered me his since he was leaving. Why would he offer me his? Until now I have forgotten to mention:
My air pad was...broken.
Remember on Day 4 how Lindsay replaced her air pad at the Tuolumne Meadows sporting goods store? Well, I wasn't doing so great myself. While hers would go flat rather quickly, mine had a more subtle leak that wouldn't manifest until halfway through the night. Every night. It's not just a comfort thing - these pads also insulate you from the cold ground, keeping you warm. I sleep "hot" so the temperature issue hadn't been bothering me, but Lindsay was reporting being uncomfortably cold every night before replacing hers.
Red's Backpackers campground - Cheek-to-jowl by the car campers.
So every night @ 2:00am I would wake to some vague discomfort and groggily realize my side or back was getting intimate with the ground through my sleeping bag. I would then have to contort myself to get out of my sleeping bag, brace for the 40F temp in the tent, find the inflation valve in the dark (couldn't remember where my headlamp was) all within the confines of a large nylon coffin (1 person tent), while sore, dehydrated and generally delirious.
Initially I was re-inflating it once a night but it seemed to be getting worse. I knew there was a way to diagnose where the leak was located (inflate pad, submerge in lake, look for bubbles) but I'd forget when I got into camp at night if we were even by a lake. Or I'd be too tired. Or I worried that even if I went through the effort to find it, would my repair even work and therefore be worth my time? We had very long days of hiking and I was generally tired so this repair, simple while poolside at home, took on the specter of outsized proportions in my head while on the trail. I was basically avoiding it.
Katherine shows off her and Jason's palace: Big Agnes Copper Spur 3 person tent...for 2 people. So roomy - made Gus and my 1-person tents look like coffins inside. They were coffins. Cozy coffins.
So there's Tyler doing his air pad review for me in their tent:
"Mine (Thermo Rest Neo Air Xlite) is well made but really thick and since I'm a broad guy like you, I fall off it at night. Lindsay's replacement pad is much lower to the ground and seems more stable and a bit shorter. I dunno, man, you're welcome to mine, but I would take hers." And I'm jumping back and forth between them, like I was in a high Sierra mattress store.
I ended up going with Lindsay's Klymit Static V for the only reason that it just seemed smaller/lighter and I wanted to cut my base weight back if I could. Did I make the right choice??? I'll let you know later.
Red's campground private restroom. I usually don't take pictures of toilets. Really. But this one flushed and was so clean. That is not my toilet paper, I swear.
I would rate the group campground at Red's as better than Tuolumne, but nowhere as nice as North Pines. What made Red's better than Tuolumne were...the private and very clean bathrooms. Yes, you got to close the door to your own little slice of heaven. The toilet flushed, the sink worked, there was a heater, you could eat off the floor. And it was roomy - almost like a private cabin. You could have slept there if there was a horrible storm. Or just for fun.
And there were mirrors so you could see what you had done to yourself over the previous 80 miles. Maybe that wasn't such a good thing.
Its really hard to take a decent selfie in a mirror. I'm usually looking the wrong way, or too serious or too stupid. I hit 2/3 here.
I took the opportunity to document what I looked like on Day 7 of 17 so I could compare it to the beginning and end.
We all packed up our gear and walked back to the restaurant and store at Red's where we ate a filling group breakfast. Then, sadly, it was time for Gus and I to say our goodbyes to the rest of the group.
The store at Red's. You can see someone rummaging in the hiker barrels next to the door. Yes - we donated.
Real horses at Red's. Pretty but we just wanted to eat them by the time we got there.
Below is our last group shot. I am smiling, but I felt strange. I was having a great time, but I was exhausted and worn out physically and mentally. While we went hard in this first part of the trip, I knew it was also just the "training grounds" and it felt hard because we weren't conditioned for it. Six days in Gus and I had our "trail legs" but It wasn't going to get any easier - we were stronger but the terrain was only getting harder and we had to put down more miles/day. It was dawning on me that the real crux of our trek was coming up.
the group's parting shot. Jason and I should have switched expressions. I felt the way he looked about the rest of the hike - somewhat nervous...or just chaffed.
While I was all nerves, Jason, Katherine, Lindsay and Tyler had the easygoing air of people that knew they were heading back to civilization. I envied that because nothing in my future looked easy: that morning's resupply, that day's hike, tonight's campsite selection....Mt. Whitney! This lot was heading to massages and mimosas at the Mammoth Marriott and we were.....
We were going to do something spectacular...but I didn't feel that then. Just apprehension. Remember at the end of the Fellowship of the Ring when they broke up and poor Sam and Frodo headed off into that fey, bleak landscape? Except Gus and I didn't have a ring to throw into Mt. Doom. But since Tyler wouldn't shut up about eating steaks and sundaes in Mammoth I considered carrying him for the rest of the trail just so I could hurl him off Mt. Whitney. That would have been a good movie (not for Tyler).
A Red's thru-hiker in mid-resupply pain.
Having a rare phone conversation during the hike while doing a resupply. Shuttle bus to Mammoth literally at Red's doorstep.
Gus and I had to pick up our resupplies at the store. Unlike the Tuolumne post office, Red's and Muir Trail Ranch actually keep a list of whose resupplies come in and even where it is located in their storage room.
Unfortunately for me they couldn't find mine. And the same person that was helping me was also ringing up purchases from the store. I initially tried before breakfast but that was their morning rush. When I came back after breakfast he still couldn't find it. "I'm not supposed to let you back here...but see if you can find it. I gotta go ring up some Snickers." I had five Snickers bars in my resupply bucket if I could find it.
Of course it was there - 10 minutes later I locate it sitting behind someone else's. Tip: Everyone buys their paint buckets at Home Depot, so get a unique color packing tape if possible to make yours stand out. Tyler did this for his Tuolumne resupply and he spotted it right away. Too bad the PO apparatchik didn't let him get it until it was "his turn".
I realized at this point I really didn't like resupply. Why not? You'd think it was something to look forward to - more goodies, right? But those goodies are heavy and add weight. It is also a time consuming and stressful process for me. I started chatting with a NOBO PCT'er as I dug into my bucket. He looked light on food and maybe $ and I invited him to have first dibs on whatever food/supplies I had surplus of. I noticed his eyes lit up when I set aside one of my Trader Joe's dried sausages (check!), and I also noticed when his eyes dimmed at my homemade "Nutmeg Couscous Jubilee" (pass). Smart man. My large intestine had the same reaction a day later. I should have dumped them all.
Gus and I didn't dilly-dally but between sitting down for breakfast, then doing the resupply, we didn't hit the trail until noon. Red's had a nice communal-hiker feel, was an attractive and comfortable place to rest so it felt hard to leave. It was also the hottest part of the day and there was a burned out forest ahead of us and I had a stomach full of the Packer's Breakfast (pancakes, hash browns, eggs, sausage and probably some other things I'm forgetting) and didn't want to hike another 160 miles right then. I just didn't. Not even 12. I wanted a nap.
Nope.
Just south of Red's you get hit by this sizable denuded area.
Mordor looked worse, but the Rainbow fire of 1992 did quite a number on the area south of Red's. I didn't find it quite as bad as others described it. In fact I thought that the burned area north of Cloud's Rest Jct. was far uglier (see Day 3) but that was shorter. For an ugly burned out section I found it...kind of pretty. Sure the trees were still stumps but the under growth had come in and it was all green.
The real problem here is that there is no water for ~5 miles and the fire has made a lot of that exposed, at least in the beginning. We did hit some forest right before the Red Cones, but that came with a steep climb. So the +/- cancelled each other out. Still, I don't see how other people have complained so much about this section, especially if you've stopped at Red's Meadow for a shower, meal and a beer.
Stumps and ferns, courtesy of the Rainbow fire.
This is my unfortunate get-up that Gus had to endure going forward. Allahu Akbar.
This rag-under-cap look is truly unfortunate...but necessary. This was a long, dry and exposed stretch of trail due to the Rainbow fire and I really needed to cover my neck and ears in the stronger high Sierra sun. I was extremely impressed with the versatility of this "buff".
It served numerous purposes for me:
- Hat
- Balaclava
- Facemask
- Hood
- Neck Shade (as pictured above and below)
- Made me look like a dill-weed
I think Gus was too tired to even comment on it when I threw it on. But I know he was smirking inside. Deep, deep inside, because on the outside there was just a grimace. I have one now looking at this picture of myself.
Finally out of the forest and getting some views.
Hours into the hike, just as we crested the last line-of-sight hill from Red's my phone started going crazy - beeping and buzzing. I forgot to turn the antenna off when leaving Red's and it shocked me awake from a daydream. I opened it apprehensively expecting some emergency and saw something way, way worse. Worse than bad news at home. Worse than a NORAD weather alert. Worse than an AMBER alert. They were...
...picture texts from the rest of the group as they frolicked around Mammoth. Sitting at fun restaurants, sipping ice cold drinks, sharing instagram-like shots of their meals, day hiking in flip flops without packs - just being....JERKS!
Arrrrrgh.
Oh, that must have been a hard hike. No packs, in your flip flops.
Such jerks.
Ok, let's see: (clockwise) eggs benedict, huevos rancheros, French toast, French fries. Aargh. Frankly Katherine's looks like burro puke but I still would have scarfed it down.
Pancho Sanza should have stayed on the trail and brought his burro to carry my bag. Putz
This guy gets more handsome every time. Relaxed. Smiling. Cotton t-shirt. Trucker cap bought in hotel gift shop. I hate him here.
Finally, Deer Creek and water. I relished the chance to put my phone away and stop drooling at food photos and hating my friends at the same time. I was out of water, of course. 3 liters, five miles. I am a waterhog and it's one of my Achilles' heels on the trail. Since I get dehydrated easily I have to carry a lot of water, but it doesn't last long, and then I have to carry a lot again. Ow. Water is heavy: 2.2lbs per liter, so three liters is almost 7 extra pounds. That's why I love to take pee breaks constantly - dropping weight. Seriously, right before a climb I unload. I need the water, but not the urine. It makes me feel like a domestique on the Tour de France when they toss their bidons right before a big climb. Yeah, just like that.
Deer Creek is the first water for 5 miles going SOBO so everyone stops there and it was fairly crowded. This gave us a chance to catch any trail info - weather updates, closures, marmot gossip, what-the-what. I decided to wash a dirty pair of socks so they would dry before night. We had a quick snack and then hit the trail. I had a bad feeling all these people were heading to the same place for camp that night - Purple Lake - and I didn't want to have to get last dibs on campsites.
First water for 5 miles since Red's at Deer Creek. Quite a lot of people were loading up on water and taking a break. Gus on the left trying not to fall in while getting water.
Right after Deer Creek the trail heads up and is benched on the side of a canyon. The views start to open up and the payoffs start coming.
Unfortunately for you so do the shots of my low-rent Lawrence of Arabia headdress.
Sorry to ruin the view...
Stretch between Duck Creek and Purple lake on 17 Day JMT trek. Heeding the sign is important. People 4 days behind us had to cut their trek short due to too much smoke from forrest fire at end of July, 2015.
Gus in the distance coming down the trail toward Purple Lake.
Trail between Duck Creek and Purple Lake, JMT 2015.
This a detail of what the benched trail looked like south of Deer Creek. I loved it even though I was pretty tired...
We finally made our descent to Purple Lake - well reviewed in the guide books for a place to camp. Unfortunately a lot of other people read that guide book too. And the rangers read it and weren't happy. They put signs up everywhere regarding camping restrictions and campers everywhere were ignoring them. Considering this and that the sun was heading behind a lakeside peak we decided to head to a higher and less popular lake. Well, I decided this. Gus begrudgingly agreed, noting wanly, "Um, there's another climb involved". Yes there was and his feet were still healing, better but not great. I thought that in the hour it would take us to circumnavigate Purple Lake and find a free spot, we could be on top of the climb by Lake Virginia, have a bit more light and not have a nasty climb to start our day tomorrow.
Purple Lake, a very popular place to camp we would find out the hard way. The area at the bottom looks like a good place to camp but is really a swamp.
I scooted ahead of Gus to scout for a suitable campsite. I could feel other hikers gathered on the trail at the Purple Lake outlet trying to determine whether to skip its crowded area, or not, and I didn't want them getting ahead of me. On the way up I encountered a lone PCT'er heading down the hill (north) from me, headphones in. We exchanged intel about the trail for a couple of moments. He asked me how much farther until Red's Meadow. I said about 12 miles. Then he paused and licked his lips. It was 6:30pm.
"Do they have beer there?"
I paused. I knew that what I say next would determine this young man's fate. I recalled what the father (hiking with his grown son) had said to me about Red's the day before:
I nodded, "You have to be careful - the beer is very cold, and very plentiful."
"Well, then what the hell am I doing talking to you?!" And he shot off down the trail. I forgot to tell him the store closes at 8pm.
Tent on right was in my spot. I crossed to the far side at 3 o'clock and found us a better one with the last rays of direct sun.
Just into Lake Virginia I noticed some beautiful camping spots already taken. They were also entirely in the shade and it was going to be chilly soon. I decided to push on to the other side of the lake where the sun was still evident. It was pin-drop quiet - no wind. It's a beautiful lake, one of my favorites on the trail. I passed a fellow fly fishing. Casting, casting, casting. I watched him for a long time while I searched for our campsite. He never pulled anything out of that lake, but who cares? I couldn't imagine a lovelier place to not catch fish at dusk.
Gus is happy that I finally called camp. He wasn't happy before.
Pretty much our view of the lake. Kind of great.
BTW - this was a great little hidden raised campsite on the lake. Nope, I'm not going to tell you the location. There's enough info in the picture....alright, send me an email and I tell you - you'll love it!
I found a benched area back from the lake, at the crux of a bordering ridge. It was a sweet little spot. While we were setting up I noticed 3 groups of hikers from Purple lake traipse by, heads swiveling, scanning for campsites just like me 40 minutes before. By that time we had set up camp and cooked dinner. Gus' blisters were on the mend and soon he would surpass me in climbing.
We had completed our first day together as a hiking duo - "The NY Brothers" as we would come to be known. We also did 4,000'+ of elevation gain and pushed three extra miles when we felt like we didn't want to.
We also hauled ass. Since leaving at 12pm we put in 16 miles in 7.5 hours. Altogether, this would rank as one of our toughest "pushes". Not our longest day or mileage, but quite punishing.
We deserved some rest.
Gus contemplates the Aspenglow while his cook set boils away, hobbit feet a flappin'.
This would be my first night using Lyndsay's sleeping pad. How did it work? I'll let you know in the morning.
And my old one? I figured I only had one choice. I "donated" it to the hiker barrel in Red's Meadow. Shortly after depositing it I saw a Red's employee pull it out, all bug-eyed, and incredulous - a true doppelgänger for Jesse Pinkman on Breaking Bad:
"What!? Someone chucked an air mattress??!! Some mad rich hikers, Yo!!"
I did write in magic marker on one side that there was a small leak, but I guess he didn't see it.
Yo.
Nighty night.
SierraMapper plot of our route.
SierraMapper plot of our elevation profile.
