My goal was to thru hike the John Muir Trail, 211 miles from Happy Isles in Yosemite National Park, south to the summit of Mt. Whitney. This journey would serve as a trial run to test if I actually enjoyed spending weeks on end in the wilderness. I would use this trip to determine whether I should proceed with longer thru hikes in the future. My goal was simple, travel west, hike, travel home. Apparently that was too simple. Over the next 34 days, I experienced the journey of a lifetime, made incredible friends, and visited places that I had never intended on visiting.
Because of Covid-19, I was uncomfortable boarding a plane with a hundred potential carriers. Instead, I decided to road-trip out to California. That way I could see stuff along the way as well. And I did see stuff. I drove nearly 3400 miles through Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, Arizona (briefly), Nevada, and California. Along the way, I got lost in St. Louis, marveled at the vast tallgrass prairies and rolling Flint Hills of Kansas, and climbed Mt. Elbert (the highest peak) in Colorado. In Utah, I deviated from Interstate 70, south, to follow the edge of the Colorado Plateau (one of my favorite regions) and to enjoy BBQ in Panguitch (one of my favorite restaurants). I visited Zion before heading west. I drove the strip in Vegas, escaped to Death Valley and continued to the foothills of the Sierra Nevada in Lone Pine, California. The following days consisted of dropping resupply buckets at various locations, two on the east side and one on the west side of the mountain range. On September 2nd, nine days after leaving Tennessee, I entered Yosemite Valley.
Having secured a coveted permit from the Happy Isles trailhead in the valley (the true northern terminus), I began my hike on the morning of September 3rd. Along the way, I passed by Nevada Falls (not much water this time of year), Saw a bear, almost got killed by a falling (ripe) pinecone, saw another bear, climbed Halfdome with a full pack (not advisable), and nearly ran out of water. And that was just day one. The following days promised to go smoother, but were every bit as exciting. Passing crystal clear lakes, lush valleys, and high mountain passes, I was having the time of my life. And then the smoke came pouring over Banner Peak. Looking across the valley at the plume of smoke, so dense that it was fostering it’s own dry thunderstorm within the cloud, I knew that this portion of the journey was coming to a close. I made it to my first resupply location at Red’s Meadow and, with my newfound trail family, decided to abandon our JMT thru hike attempts.
As a tramily, we settled on a plan that would allow us to continue hiking on a section of trail that promised to be nearly as beautiful as the Sierra, section J of the Pacific Crest Trail in Washington. Over the next four days, our group of five, most of whom had known each other for less than 48 hours, road-tripped to Washington like a band of old friends. Surviving a car breakdown, cramped hotel rooms, and good food, along the way, we made our way north through California, Nevada, California again, Oregon, and Washington. By the time we reached Snoqualmie Pass on September 10th, we had finally managed to outrun all traces of smoke that now had supposedly blanketed the entire southwestern region of the US. This wasn’t the trail that any of us had expected to travel, but we were determined to continue hiking.
Late in the afternoon of September 10th, we began hiking again, up the mountain and away from the roar of Interstate 90. It was hard to believe that after planning for the JMT for months, we had thrown this plan together in a matter of days. With our thru hike abandoned, we were no longer focused on a specific geographical or mileage goal, but instead planned to take between seven and nine leisurely days to cover the 75 mile stretch of trail from Snoqualmie Pass to Stevens Pass. And we did just that. Averaging just under nine miles per day, we enjoyed every lake, and peak and pass and forest. Unlike the JMT, there was an abundance of water and usually an alpine lake every couple miles. On our shortest day (just over three miles), we spent the majority of the day sitting on the shores of a particularly cold lake, just watching the glistening sun and listening to the pikas cry out from their rocky hide-outs. In typical northwest fashion, the sky did eventually turn grey that week, from clouds or smoke we could never quite determine. Probably a little of both. But our spirits were hardly dampened. We were on the trail, hiking. That’s really all we wanted to do. We emerged from the woods, once again, on September 17th and lamented the fact that our time together was coming to a close. We had known one another for less than two weeks, but it was still difficult to part ways.
The next day, I departed Seattle, Washington. Alone. Over the next nine days, I drove home in the most indirect way possible. My first objective was to visit Yellowstone. I did so by means of traveling east across Washington, Idaho, and Montana, then turning south towards southeastern Wyoming, before circling back up in a counterclockwise direction towards the park. I spent nearly one and a half days in Yellowstone National Park, and then a half day in Grand Teton National Park. I stayed just long enough to discover that it would take ten times that amount of time to truly experience these parks. Turning back south and west, I passed through Idaho, Utah, Arizona, Nevada and, once again, back into California. I had been disappointed in myself for driving into California several weeks ago and never visiting the coast. Attempting to drive the coast from Malibu to Long beach satisfied that desire and then some. I don’t know what I was expecting but that wasn’t it. I was ready to go home. First, I just had to find my way out of that dusty, smoky, grimy maze of glaring pavement that people call Los Angeles. I’m sure there are some really nice areas, but I didn’t see many of them. Facing east, I headed for the most direct path home, Interstate 40. Three days and seven states later, I was home.
In total, this Great Western Adventure, as I call it, took me over 10,000 miles, through 19 states, and included visits to 5 National Parks. I hiked a total of less than 200 miles but completed many of those miles in places that I had not anticipated. In Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks alone, I saw 1 wolf, 2 grizzlies, 4 coyotes, over 120 elk and more than 475 bison. The most incredible thing for me, was to see and feel the shear vastness of the western landscape. I have never experienced anything like it in the southeast.
Another number from this journey is 4,394. That’s how many pictures I took along the way. I could ramble on about what I saw out there for pages upon pages, and someday, maybe I will (If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I have some serious writing to do). Until then, I have made four individual pages, one for each major “phase” of this trip. On those pages, I have posted what I consider an accurate and captioned visual account of the things I saw and did. If you’ve seen or done these things before, feel free to reminisce. If you haven’t, let this serve as encouragement to experience all the beauty and grandeur that these regions have to offer.