Blog #2: Journey Map

Let me first start out by saying this is not the first trip of its kind. My family is well versed in trips like this effervescing from my mind and before we know it, we are out in the wilderness wondering how this all started. I am usually the brunt of that joke. This particular venture got started when my nephew emailed me a list of places he wanted to explore. As I glanced through the list, I narrowed it down to the places I had been curious about as well. There were a few requirements, starting with the fact we had to drive. I’m just not a flyer, or as my kids would say “I don’t believe in planes.”

The goal is always adventure, and of course to escape from what I like to call PCD’s or personal communication devices. Additionally, I had somewhat of a personal goal for this trip. I want to climb all of the highest peaks in every county of California. (If you didn’t catch on already, my uncle is a bit of an outdoorsman.) I have already done about 15 of the peaks, and dragged my kids along with me on many occasions. But for these two in particular, there was a full backpacking trip opportunity that I couldn’t pass up. And since my nephew was interested in the same area, the wheels just started turning.

After the idea was rolling along, I decide to poll the troops. I sent an email to my two nephews, my niece and my son and daughter. I laid out two different options for them based on mileage, day length, major challenges, concerns, and my overall pros and cos. My nephew Mike, the one who emailed me originally, gave a resounding, “Let’s do both!” The rest all sort of leaned one way, so I went with the group vote. That meant the starting point would be June Lake, part of the Inyo National Forest. We would follow part of the Pacific Crest Trail overlapping with the John Muir trail into Yosemite National Park, exiting at Tuolumne Meadows. 

The two peaks that we would climb were Mt. Lyell, which is just over 13,000 feet, the highest peak in Tuolumne County and Parsons Peak, just over 12,000 feet, which is the highest peak in Madera County. The absolute only way to get to either of these peaks was to backpack in, they are both too far from any of the trailheads to make it up and back in a day hike. This had me excited. 

Since this was not my first rodeo, and actually all but one of the participant joining us on the trip was a first-timer, I felt it appropriate to assign “pre-trip” duties. We were looking at about 50 miles of ground to cover, which mapped out looked like about 9 days. I put my son in charge of food, my daughter in charge of my niece (the new-bee) and my two nephews in charge of water sterilization. I was left with maps and gear, as this particular trip would require crampons and ice axes. Despite the early August departure date, we would definitely encounter a large glacier near the top of Mt. Lyell. This added a certain amount of difficulty to the trip, which was great for me, but did give me a little anxiety when thinking about being responsible for my kids, niece and nephews. But as young adults, I knew they were resilient. And I knew they were smarter than me, meaning they would know when to stop. 

Before we knew it, it was the night before the trip. We had started this ritual or I guess I should say, “I started this ritual.” My kids have grown to hate it, but I find absolutely necessary since we always seem to forget something. Everyone going on the trip comes over to the house, unpacks and then repacks their backpacks while we go through a list of what should be in there. And of course some friendly competition goes on about whose pack is the heaviest. Never fails to be my daughter’s. Girls and their “things.” I’m a three pair of socks, two pairs of shorts kind of guy. We parted ways that night and reconvened the next morning for a quick McDonald’s breakfast, our last meal before many days of dried fruit and Cliff Bars, and we were on our way. 

 

After the drive and a night of camping at what must have been the most desolate and depressing campsite I’ve ever seen, the trip officially kicked off with a pretty grueling 2,500 ft. climb. We stopped for a swim, to refill on water and for lunch and continued to our first camping site. After 9 miles we were toast. We woke up the next morning and continued our journey. Our destination today was the base of Mt. Lyell and the big climb was planned for the next day. Our campsite was some prime real estate. Next to a crystal clear lake, tons of flat grassy areas, and a killer view of the climb that faced us the next day. One of my favorite things with a trip like this is the spontaneity of the “lodging” part. Everything else requires so much planning and attention to detail but once you are out there, tucked into the mountains of these national forests, you can call wherever you please home. 

The morning of our Mt. Lyell summit day was an early one. The hike itself was only about 3 miles but we were looking at some serious elevation change and rigorous terrain. And I barely even want to say this out loud, because it still haunts me to this very day, but we didn’t make it. We even tried a second time. But we never reached the summit of Mt. Lyell. I bet we were only about 50 to 100 feet shy. 

We did summit Parsons Peak a few days later and the rest of the trip was smooth sailing, relatively speaking. There never fails to be some mishaps along the journey, and I definitely antagonize at times, but I secretly think everyone has the time of their lives. My nephew told me a few years ago that these trips were the reason he has made some of the best decisions of his life. There is a certain amount of clarity you can find when you are 20 miles from nowhere. The last leg of the hike was such a leisurely, flat trail, my son and I even went barefoot. Before we knew it we stepping onto a paved parking lot, with the car in sight. And after about a 45-minute car ride, we found ourselves 4 slices deep at the local pizza joint and in some sort of euphoric state of food coma bliss.