High Sierra Trail with Dad, day 6

Junction Meadow – Crabtree Meadow

On day 6 we return to hard climbing – from 8000′ to 10,700′ in less than nine miles. We try for an early start and manage 10:45, which is still 90 minutes after Peter leaves. The previous two easy days are a help and we make great time for 1200′ until stopping to take our packs off and have a snack.

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After that it is harder to get going, and the altitude takes an increasing toll. We stop for lunch at the John Muir trail junction at 10,200’, where for the second straight day I slip and go ankle-deep into a stream. I make the best of it by going full into the stream later – God is it cold – but it is still strangely tolerable. I’m not sure why this is: except for some shivers Dad gets in the evening, we seem to be more tolerant of temperature extremes, but five minutes in is plenty. The spot I choose for my swim is right near the trail and a hiking couple surprises me – and me them – just after I get full in. They say it looks great and I say it looks better than it feels. Unfortunately, no soap in the streams is allowed, but I feel a lot better even if I am not much cleaner. I’ve noticed by this time that I’m smelling quite ripe, and quick dunks in the cold water don’t help much.

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Lunch buys Dad some new energy, but it fades before we climb the 500 – 600′ still left to go. The trail gets as high as a wide, sandy plain at 10,900′ before descending to Crabtree Meadow.

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Crabtree gives us our first look at Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the lower 48 states, and we arrive about 7PM, enough time to get a picture of the low orange-gold rays shining on it. The view of Whitney and some surrounding peaks and bluffs is spectacular. I dash ahead for the last mile into camp looking for a toilet and find one but it is not for public use. I think dark ranger thoughts, dig a hole, and do my stuff in the meadow behind a big log. I’m back at the campsite just before Dad arrives. The toilet incident makes me grouchy enough that Dad must think once or twice about what an asshole he raised, but he doesn’t show it if he does. I see Peter briefly, but we camp far enough from each other that we do not see each other again that night. I learn from him that there is no public toilet, and also that there are none of those near-mythical faucets I’d been hoping to find since morning. We know we have to get an early start on Day 7, so we boil extra water overnight – not enough but still a goodly amount. I suspect that there may be no more water to be had by the trail, and hope to go out with a full load for the first time since Day 1. Or was it day 2?

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That night I have a dream about two college friends that disturbs me, keeping me awake thinking about it long afterwards. I decide in the wee hours that a couple of changes to it would make it a decent science fiction short story, and by the time the sky begins to lighten, I am fast asleep again. This is the usual pattern for both Dad and me, we sleep like rocks for several hours, fidget in the wee hours, and finally sleep like rocks again about the time the sun comes up.