Day 3

Friday, July 18.  Lyell Canyon, 1/2 mile before the junction to Ireland Lake.  11 1/2 miles.  8,800 ft.

Writing these entries at the end of a long day is a chore.  The burdened walking strips me of the will and turns my brain to mush.  Already, the day seems like a jumble of snapshots that I can't reassemble into the day's sequence of events.

I awoke at 6:00 as usual and decided to let Drew sleep in.  Since he was sick last night and I didn't feel much better, I felt the rest would do both of us some good.

By 10:00, we were on the trail.  In a reversal of yesterday's pattern, we began the day feeling poorly though the going was easy.  The first four miles of the trail work around the base of Cathedral Peak and then drop 1,000 feet to Tuolumne Meadows.  Over the easiest terrain we have walked, I felt the worst.  A searing pain knifed through my back - my load seemed huge.  The continuing heat and the loose footing on the sandy glacial moraine were aggravating, but it was not enough to explain my difficulty over such easy going.

Tuolumne Meadows is one of only two places where a road intersects the John Muir Trail.  But we were delighted to reach it because we knew the Mountain Grill was there.  A couple of burgers, sodas and shakes revived our bodies and spirits.  We bought a few items at the general store next door (ibuprofen for the back, more insect repellent).  Clouds enclosed the sky and rain began to fall.  Typical afternoon thundershowers in the Sierra are short lived, but this one persisted.

Drew and I debated our options.  Considering the weather and how poorly we felt, should we call it a day in order to rest up and wait out the weather?  Or should we venture into the rain - an unwelcome prospect.  Convinced that the rain would soon pass, we donned our rain gear and walked through the Tuolumne Meadows campground looking for the point where the trail picked up again.

Now it was pouring.  Lightning and almost simultaneous thunder rattled the campground restroom we ducked into.  What the hell, let's go.

We entered Lyell Canyon through a steady rain and enjoyed the best walking on the trip thus far.  A full belly, cool temperatures, firm footing and easy going more than compensated for the rain which itself invigorated and energized us.  Drew's feet got soaked in his new Gore-Tex boots while mine were bone dry in silicon-treated non-Gore-Tex boots.  I should have treated Drew's boots.  What is the Gore-Tex for?

Lyell Canyon is a ten-mile long valley that divides the Kuna Crest from the Clark Range.  Its entire length is a broad meadow dotted with lodgepole pines and bisected by the Lyell fork of the Tuolumne River.  Here, the river meanders peacefully, gathering strength for the drama in the canyons below Tuolumne Meadows.

On a granite outcrop by a stunted lodgepole growing from a crack, I looked into a quiet pool and saw, even in the dingy light, every luminous shade of blue and green.  Just upstream, the river broadened a moment and rushed over a uniform granite slab in a thin glassy sheet, churned briefly below and then rested into the pool by which I stood.  All the moods in Lyell Canyon are peaceful.

Somehow, the rain refreshed us and dissolved the pains in our feet, hips, shoulders and backs.  Add to this the glorious setting, and we were exultant.

Five miles down the canyon we decided to pitch camp.  Drew could no longer resist walking by the promising fishing spots.  The rain had stopped, but the sky still threatened.

I could see Drew fishing below me while I set up camp.  I finally responded to his constant calls to come witness his fish-every-cast luck.  What a transformation there has been in him.  The confounding teenage Drew that inhabits the lowlands has been replaced here by a model companion.  He is considerate, determined, proud, helpful, and a source of encouragement when things are grim.  Last night,  when he was sick, he didn't complain; he was only sorry.  Earlier this evening, I was frustrated when some silly things got to me.  Drew spoke up in a constructive way, "Dad, I know I'm the worst, and I hate it when people say this to me when I'm frustrated, but...," and he proceeded to tell me exactly the right thing in the right way to adjust my attitude.

Recently, at home, there have been many reasons to wonder whether Drew has lost his way.  We have faced serious confounding issues.  But here, our uncluttered life of just walking is revealing the solid core in Drew that my wife and I worried was lost.  Between Drew and I, he is often the more grown-up.

Comments

[Ty]

I dig the blog. My wife and I are planning on the JMT next summer. The personal account is helpful to know what we're really up against. I like your writing style, subtle and intelligent.