July 11th, 2021
Big Pete Meadow to Muir Pass to Evolution Lake
This day completely broke me down and rebuilt me. I started early and I was tired. I was starting to feel the effects of not having much of an appetite for two weeks. I felt weak. I had to walk six miles of straight uphill to get to Muir Pass, and I was dreading it. I wanted to hike 12 miles to a specific lake, but it became clear very quickly that my goal was in jeopardy. I was moving too slow, I was too tired, and I was too hungry. I was reaching a higher altitude again, and breathing was becoming more challenging. I took a break to have a snack and calm myself down, but every minute I sat was a minute wasted. I started to get nervous that I wouldn’t even make it to the pass, let alone to the lake I wanted to camp near. I was feeling defeated and then it started to rain. That’s the thing about the Sierra, it breaks you down and then rains on you. The rain ended after a few minuntes, and I was slowly making my way to Muir. I wanted fresh food, and I wanted a nap. I finally made it above tree line. I text Rob “I think I’m going to just make camp in a mile or so and sit in my tent and cry.” When he objected, I responded, “I still have 3 miles to the top of the pass, I have only gone 3 miles today, and my campsite after the pass is at 7.5 miles. Do do you think the odds are in my favor today?” I felt like a fraud. Once again, I felt like a child wearing a big girl costume. I looked around. How could I be so unhappy in such a beautiful place? I stopped and took in the view of Helen Lake. It was pristine. Helen Lake was named after one of John Muir’s daughters. I thought about who named it, and why, and what its real name was. I thought about this land, before it was renamed by white men. I thought about Muir Pass, and why it was named after John Muir. He didn’t discover it. He didn’t discover any of this, yet it all bears his name.
This trail was used as a trading route long before John Muir found himself there. The trail’s real name is the Nüümü Poyo, or People’s Road. When John Muir stumbled into the Sierra, he worked with the government to remove the indigenous people from this area, claiming that they couldn’t possibly know how to protect this land as well, despite them having done it for centuries. I thought about how the California government waged “a war of extinction” against indigenous peoples in this area. I thought about not being able to come home. John Muir didn’t deserve to have his name splashed all over this trail. Even the Sierra Club, founded by John Muir himself, has begun to reckon with its racist beginnings. I hope they officially change the name, but I decided to call things by their names on a map for the purpose of this blog.
I pushed on, and started to repeat to myself, “I can do it. I can do it.” Over and over. I can do it. It became a mantra. I developed another mantra later, but we’ll get to that. I repeated my mantra and got closer. I decided that if I could make it to the top of Muir by 3:00, then I wasn’t a total failure. Arbitrary, but it’s what I decided. I cried all the way up the pass. I had a little over a mile left and I passed two older men. They asked me, “What are you doing out here little lady? You should be home!” That was just the push I needed. “Little lady,” as if we weren’t out here doing the exact same thing. As if I should be at home and they were allowed to be out here without comment. I thought about John Muir. I made it to the top at 2:53, just in time for a lighting storm.
Have you ever sat in the Muir Hut with 15 strangers while lightning strikes the mountain next to you? Let me tell you about it. The Muir Hut is a structure that was built by the Sierra Club in 1930 and sits at the top of Muir Pass at 11,995 feet of elevation. Because this section of trail is so exposed, it was built as a shelter for hikers who were caught in storms – hikers like us. It’s a round stone structure, and the inside is empty, except for seating around the perimeter and a closed off fireplace. There was a window and a door, and we all sat inside, waiting out the storm. We talked amongst ourselves and were fast friends. One of the hikers was friends with the guy who won the Barkley Marathons twice, two were a couple from Hawaii, one was a girl and her father who’d always wanted to do the trail together. One of the hikers went to a snow patch nearby and scooped up handfuls of snow. We got some and made snow cones with Mio. We went through our bear canisters and traded snacks. I gave my spare fuel to a hiker named Condiment. He thought it was a huge sacrifice on my part and thanked me repeatedly, but the truth was I didn’t need it. I’d barely been eating. Eventually, the Ohio guys made it to the hut. They had done the last section of the pass in the storm and the shelter was a much needed respite. The SOBO hikers warned us about the mosquitos at Wanda Lake. It seemed like folklore honestly. After the storm, the Ohio guys and I left together.
I could see Wanda Lake getting closer, and I stopped to put on my mosquito net. I am so glad I did. As I got close to Wanda, I saw one on my net. Then I saw two on my net. Then three. Then more, and then I couldn’t see. The mosquitos were covering me and I didn’t want to swat at my head net in case I moved it off of my face enough for one to get inside. It would have been all over then. I kept my head down and sped past the lake. There were actually people camping there. Just as quickly as the mosquitos arrived, they were gone. I took off my net and kept walking towards the lake. I’d seen photos of this lake and I was looking forward to camping there. I got closer and I could see it in the distance.
If the first half of my day was spent in misery, the second half was spent in bliss. Once I’d made it to the shelter, my attitude turned around. Talking with the other hikers, I felt like I belonged there. I felt strong and powerful after making it to the top of the pass. I felt like I’d proved myself and I deserved to be up there. Making it to the lake was the cherry on top. This view. I don’t have the words for this absolutely stunning view. I didn’t even look where I was stepping as I walked. I couldn’t believe I was there. I found my campsite at around 8:00, just as the sun started to set. The nearest tent was way in the distance. I sat outside of my tent near the lake and watched the sunset. I was totally alone and at peace. I deserved to be here.
