Freedom and Joy on the Trail
Thousand Island Lake, Ansel
Adams Wilderness, Inyo
National Forest
I have often found that hiking gives me an escape from my daily chores and makes me feel that I am a part of nature in a way that I am not able to experience in my day-to-day life. Hiking gives me the freedom to be in the moment and see places that are not accessible by car. I’ve completed many day and short thru hikes in my adult life, and I have hiked all over New England, in the Southeast and the Northwest. None of these hikes prepared me for the most difficult hike I have ever done: The John Muir Trail (JMT). The JMT is a 210-mile hike in the High Sierras in Eastern California. The trail begins in Yosemite Valley and ends on Mt. Whitney (the highest peak in the contiguous United States at 14,508 ft). The lowest elevation of the trail is in Yosemite valley at a little over 4,000 ft above sea level.
The Mist Trail, Yosemite National Park, prior to start of thru-hike
Completing this thru-hike was not on my personal “bucket list,” but it was my husband, Ryan’s, dream. Our daughter, Sydney (almost 17 years-old), and I reluctantly agreed to go with him on this grand adventure. From acquiring the wilderness permits, to all the planning for travel, my husband took the leading role. Interestingly, this is not usually his role in our partnership; I am definitely the planner and he is the “live in the moment” yin to my yang. I think this keeps both of us grounded in that I help him think through details, and he helps me not take life too seriously.
The JMT is a rugged trail through high altitudes, and many of the mountains have been depicted in the backgrounds of movies, beginning with silent films in the 1920s and 30s. For the majority of the trail, the only access is through side trails that are anywhere from eight to fifteen miles long, which means there are no day hikers. While this means there are not a lot of people on the trail, the JMT is still a popular thru-hike and we met many people going the same direction as us (south), as well as many people going north. We met several solo hikers, pairs, and small groups of hikers. One solo hiker, a woman from outside Washington, DC, camped with us for several nights. We met many hikers at our resupply locations and throughout our time on the trail. Additionally, we encountered Park Rangers, who patrol the trail and check wilderness permits and even horse riders who make a living by packing in mule trains for resupply for hikers. As I reflect on the people that we met on the trail, I think about how supportive hikers, rangers, and even the pack companies are to each other. There is a sense that we are all striving for the same goal, that it is not a competition, but that each person “Hikes their own hike,” and that it’s about finishing what we start and knowing that anyone can reach their personal goals; whether it takes 16 days or 30 days, or a lifetime.
Pack mule delivering to hikers, South side of Glen Pass.
Each day we climbed out of our warm sleeping bags, packed up, and took a walk. While some days we had specific end goals in mind, we mostly hiked until we were tired and then found a camp. Mornings began with coffee and hot or cold soak oatmeal. We were usually “on the trail” for the day by 8:30 a.m. at the latest, but usually before 8 a.m. Sometimes our goal was to get over the next pass early in the day before the clouds rolled in for afternoon thunderstorms, and other times, it was to get below the next pass to set up for the next day. While we set these expectations, we didn’t always meet them. Some days are just much harder to get through than other days, and that was okay. Other days, we wildly exceeded our goal, and that was okay also! Overall, we finished the trip two days earlier than we planned! Towards the end, we were all ready for a hot meal (that wasn’t dehydrated), a shower, and a bed. Being on-trail for 16 days definitely makes you appreciate the finer things in life, including running water and flushing toilets!
Home sweet home, Evolution Lake
One of the greatest aspects of doing a thru-hike of this magnitude is you have to leave everything from your regular life at home. I couldn’t take my laptop, there was little to no cellphone service for most of the trail, and I had to carry everything to meet my basic needs in my pack. That means you come to appreciate most of the comforts that we take for granted. Our packs were light compared to most. On my heaviest pack day (right after our last, and longest, resupply) my pack weighed thirty pounds. On this day, I was carrying nine days of food, as well as the rest of my gear. We each took one or two comfort items. Mine were a deck of cards and my kindle so I could read, my daughter brought her summer reading book for school, and my husband brought a camp chair. These items allowed us to be more comfortable in camp, in our tent, and on the trail overall. They also allowed us to have the freedom to let whatever stressors we might have when we return, go. For my daughter, she struggled most with being away from her friends and social media as her way to connect while she was not at home.
Sunset over Rae Lakes. We took a short day here for our mental health!
With no cell phone service for much of the trip, we had to be together as a family; none of us could be distracted by what was happening with our friends and family or in the world around us. It was freeing not to have the pressures and stress of those outside forces interfering with our relationship with each other. Don’t get me wrong, there were definitely days where we struggled with each other or with our own mindset. Having each other to help us through those (or to just leaving each other be) was important to how our trip went. There were plenty of days where one or all of us cried; there was laughter, frustration, and finally, when all was said and done, pride that we made it together; that we finished the trail.
Hiking a trail like the JMT allowed me to conclude several things about my life. First, I am lucky. I am healthy enough to undertake an adventure of this magnitude. I have the freedom to take time to spend on a trail. I am secure in my relationship, secure financially, and believe enough in myself that I can accomplish a strenuous thru-hike. Finally, and I reflected on this often, sometimes in life you need to turn around to see where you’ve been in order to appreciate where you are going. This was never more evident than when I turned around at the top of a pass, or as I was climbing one of the hardest trails I’ve ever been on and saw what I had already accomplished.
Sunrise on Mt. Whitney. We finished!
Beth Adreon (she/her)