Snow Trouble in the Sierras

I haven't written in a while so this one is going to be a long post. Sorry, folks.

What is new? First thing's first. Here are pics of our under the house neighbors:

 They moved in last year and had two little ones. They were very shy then but this year they don't seem to mind me coming to the kitchen window and taking pictures. I was afraid there weren't going to be little ones this year. I heard loud squealing some weeks ago, it is possible the not all little ones survived. Last year there were two, this year also two. The young ones are very curious, as they should be, they come to sniff Sylvester's, our cat's, nose through the window, but run off when Sierra, Sylvester's smaller  but feistier twin sister, jumps on the window to attack. 

I feel honored that they chose our house. I guess they feel safe here.

My training for our backpacking adventure took me to Desolation Wilderness. There was still plenty of snow and the road accessing the parking lot was impassable. I parked on the side of the road and started getting ready. I chatted a bit with a couple already heading for the trail. The guy glanced at my footwear and said to be prepared for snow. As he went ahead I thought, 'Yeah, that is just something Ned would say'. Oh, who is Ned? Ned is a mountain safety guru, a great contributor of common sense and wisdom on JMT Forum. 

At least in the beginning the road proved to be the biggest obstacle. This year, it seems, it has not been plowed even once. The snow was slippery and in places soft enough to make walking difficult.

Once I got on the trail it was actually not too bad, the parts that were in the sun were mostly snow free, the rest... well, a bit challenging but passable. I realized that I rarely hike in the snow this time of year and it is a totally different animal than hiking or rather snowshoeing in winter. Snow covered trails are full of surprises. One of the nastier ones are snow bridges that form when water melts the snow from below. Not that long ago a woman hiking in Sequoia Nat'l Park was crossing a creek on such a bridge when it collapsed. Fast current swept her under. When she stopped she was under a layer of snow. With a hiking pole, she managed to make a hole above her head and toss her pack out but was unable to get out herself. Luckily, 3 hours later, somebody noticed her pack. She suffered from severe hypothermia but survived. On the trail I was on, snow bridges were tiny but whenever possible I avoided them anyway. 

Postholing is when your foot crushes the top layer of snow and falls in deeper, sometimes all the way to your hip. Not fun trying to get out one of those. Usually I don't hike with poles. I don't like them. But for snowy conditions and creek crossings they are invaluable. One can use a pole to test the snow ahead. This way I managed to avoid quite a few surprises.

This snow bridge is tiny and visible
Some can be quite large and hidden

Bald eagle, if I am not mistaken

And yes, I made peace with boots. The ones I finally decided on have a 'pretty' sapphire color  - trust me, not my color of choice for hiking boots, but I are very, very light, the sole is not too stiff and my feet seems to tolerate them better than most boots.  

When I stopped for a midday rest and snack, I realized that a couple I saw at the trailhead was behind me. They must have gone off trail and I passed them without realizing it. We started chatting and soon enough I was bragging about my summer plans for doing the John Muir Trail. The guy asked if I was on JMT Forum by any chance. I said yes, and that my name was Ewa, to which he replied that he was, yes, you guessed it, Ned. Now I was really glad I wore boots instead of my beloved Merrell Gloves. Ned is a bit of a traditionalist. OK, not a bit, he is a very traditional backpacker but I have a lot of respect for his wisdom and I have learned a lot from his posts. I am not a very active member of the forum so I was quite surprised he remembered me. Must be my charming online personality. :) He remembered that way back in December, I think, I mentioned I was considering signing up for one of his snow safety courses. I haven't because I was under the impression these were at least a week long. So I told him that since I am homeschooling my son, I did not have the luxury to take the entire week off. Julie, his wife then said she had homeschooled her sons too. I knew I liked those people right away. Ned is offering two day courses too, so guess what, I will learn how to self-arrest with a snow axe. 

I have no idea why I did not take pictures of them or their adorable dog, Snowball. Mea culpa. 

As we were chatting an older gentleman joined us. He asked me if I was hiking solo. I said, yes. "Then", he said, "you have to talk to my wife. She won't let me hike by myself anymore", he complained bitterly. He was 84! Yes, you read right, 84!!! I want to be like him when I grow up. 

In case you haven't noticed, I love meeting people on trails and find that people, once they venture out in nature, soften up and become more open, and more inviting. 

Tenaya Lake

I've been spending some time reading harrowing reports by Pacific Crest Trail hikers. These people start on the boarder of CA with Mexico and after 2,663 mi (4,286 km) end up in the trai's northern terminus in British Columbia, Canada. For most of the way, John Muir Trail goes along Pacific Crest Trail, so for me those reports are invaluable as they tell me what to expect since this year conditions in the High Sierras are epic. I read about snow covered passes which take forever to conquer because of soft snow and unreliable footing. I read about people swept under water by raging creeks and rescued by other hikers. I read about impossible to find without a good GPS trail as any footmarks melt in the hot sun, and all trail markers are still covered by a deep layer of snow. Many hikers decide to quit. From what I am reading, it seems a miracle there have not been any drownings yet.


Here are a couple of examples:
"This year has been difficult to enjoy the Sierras because the snow, but also the snow melt. The trail is sometimes not a trail, but a waterfall, a creek, a snowdrift, or a huge mess of downed trees."
"Our group experienced a pretty harrowing day. We had three tough creek crossings after Vermillion Valley resort. One of our friends got swept away and caught in some downed trees and by the grace of 5 hikers spared her and her pack only losing her hiking poles and a few ancillaries in the process." -- from Sniper
or
"With my poles in one hand, I made a jump for the rock, not knowing that it had an invisible coating of ice on it just like the bushes on the banks. When my foot hit the rock, it slipped right over it and I landed on the rock in a split. I tried to hold on to the rock but it was covered in ice and I was pulled over backwards by the extremely powerful current. I went from bad decision to a life threatening situation in the blink of an eye. The freezing water took my breath away as I was quickly swept downstream. I had to get out of the water but first I had to keep from smashing my head on a rock. I got my feet downstream and flipped over, trying desperately to get my foot or hand on something. Suddenly my leg got caught between two rocks and the current flipped me over it. I thought my shin was going to break as the current pulled on me. My leg was stuck and my back hit another rock. The current had me pinned down and I was facing upstream with the water rushing over the front of my body. I knew a had only minutes to get out of the 35 degree water. I threw my oles over the the bank and tried to get my leg unstuck and still keep from getting swept downstream again. My hands were frozen and I couldn't grab anything. My fingers were useless. I was probably yelling and I managed to thrash through and get to an overhanging bush which I grabbed onto and dragged myself onto the shore. I was safe." -- from David "Mr.F.Gentle Spirit" 

Where is the trail?

So while my men are away, I head to higher parts of Yosemite to see for myself what is happening. I know that conditions change daily and that what I see today is not what we will encounter on our trip in just over two weeks. Still, I just have to know and I am only 4.5 hours away. 


The rate at which the snow is melting is astonishing. What I see has no resemblance to pictures I saw posted just a few days ago. Walls of snow along the Tioga Pass Road are almost gone. Tenaya Lake is totally free of ice that covered its entire surface just a week before. On one hand all that is good, because it means that big parts of the trail will be snow free. On the other hand it means that creeks will stay swollen and raging dangerously for a long time. 
I wish I could stay for a few days and venture deeper into the High Sierras but I have no wilderness permit and only one day to spare. I set out very early and hit the trail just after 6am. The first thing I notice is that even though my trail is covered only by patches of snow, I have to be quite vigilant to make sure I do not stray off it. Any footprints from the day before have melted away. The dirt parts of the trail look more like creeks than the trail. At times I am not sure which creek to follow. Several times I have to backtrack. 
Then I enter a more open space. Here I don't have to play a detective, I can see the trail easily but instead of snow I have to battle mud, at times ankle deep. Again I am grateful for my boots. I don't think I could last a mile in my trail runners. 
And then there are mosquitoes. They are just beginning to mobilize and are sharpening their proboscis. Before I manage to apply the bug repellant I get at least three bites. Mosquitoes have always loved me.


I am happy to get to drier parts of the trail. At least I can move faster and look around instead of having to keep my eyes on the ground. It is astonishingly beautiful here. Marmots do not seem to mind my presence, neither do deer. I know I am in heaven for sure.

This was an easy one to cross. NOT.

But then there are raging creeks. Fortunately I don't have to cross any big ones but even the small ones push on my legs with astonishing force. This is what truly scares me about our trek. Hopefully there will be more hikers on the trail and we will be able to do group crossings, the safest way to do it but holding onto each other. But on this day, for all my 16miles I don't see a soul on the trail. 


By the time I turn back, the trail has changed into even a bigger challenge. Mud got deeper, snow got softer, and even my morning footprints are totally gone. Creeks grew bigger and faster. Ned did advise me to try to cross the most challenging ones early in the morning as the snow melts slower at night and to spend time looking for a good crossing up and down the stream. On my way back, a couple of times I follow his advice because what was easy to cross in the morning does not look so in the afternoon. Thank goodness for hiking poles, another piece of equipment that I usually don't like but carry just because of creek crossings. 


On this hike I did not lug my big pack and yet after 16 miles I am quite tired. My ankles especially got a good workout having to twist and turn to adjust to uneven and slippery snow. I also realize that conditions in higher mountains are a lot more challenging and that what I have experienced on this hike it nothing in comparison to what is happening up there. 
Still, I understand better now why so many people, who like us, have scheduled their JMT hike in July decided not to go. I also understand why some groups, which started earlier this month had to quit. 

And then there is this making all the struggle worthwhile 

We are still going in hopes that the conditions will improve. I am not going to take any crazy chances though, if we need to bail out we will. I am glad I went to check things out since it prepares me mentally to the possibility that we may not be able to complete our trek this year. 
To make things more interesting, there is snow in the forecast for mid week. What I saw yesterday just might change back to what my friends saw a few days ago. 


Oh, am I loosing any sleep over it? Of course I am. Why do you think I am writing all this in the middle of the night?


But for now, all I can do is to continue dehydrating our food, packing it to send to resupply points in hopes we will make it there to claim it.