365 True Things: 66/Backpacking

I have not done a whole lot of backpacking. The odd overnight trip, a few two- or three-day trips. And that anomaly: the four-week attempt on Denali, when, yes, I was backpacking and, for me, carrying a pretty heavy load.

Still, for some reason I keep being nagged by the idea of hiking the John Muir Trail in the Sierra Nevada of California. And by "hiking," I do mean backpacking, since it's 210 miles long—starting at Happy Isles in Yosemite Valley and ending on the summit of Mt. Whitney, at 14,494 feet the highest spot in the lower 48—plus 12 or so miles to get back to civilization. Most people take about three weeks to traverse its length. It is no walk in the park.

This evening I went to a talk at REI by a youngish couple who hiked the JMT last July and August. They loved it! Even though the weather was miserable—rain, sleet, hail, thunderstorms, snow. Still, they loved it.

They showed photos—oh my, that high Sierra, be still my heart!—and talked about gear and permits and getting information on the trail and staying warm and keeping your tummy happy.

That last bit involves resupplies—sending packages of food to yourself at a few easily accessible junctures along the trail.

For some reason, resupplies make me nervous. More nervous than the 46,000 feet of climbing and 38,000 feet of descending do. Those, I know I can do. (Or have been able to so far. . . .  Though I also know I'm not getting any younger.)

Like, how do you really know what you'll need, or (more to the point) can carry, in the way of food? Or just when? What if you send the wrong stuff? Or not enough? Though apparently at the resupply stations there is barrel after barrel after barrel (of the laundry soap size) of free food: supplies that people have "donated" because they sent too much to themselves or they were quitting the trek or they were just sick sick sick of top ramen.

(I got sick sick sick of oatmeal on Denali, but there were no barrels there to trade it out for something better, sadly.)

Anyway. I am now encouraged to read the book on the JMT to try to create a better mental map, and start weighing equipment choices: because literally, each ounce counts. And maybe this year I will apply for a permit for next year to hike that trail. I'm thinking solo. But if any of you wants to join me, I know I'd welcome the company.

(JMT map courtesy of John J. Czaplewski; photo of Marie Lakes courtesy of Kevin; elevation profile courtesy of the Pacific Crest Trail Assocation.)