Vogelsang to Merced Lake via Vogelsang Pass  9.5 miles

My new mantra: Nothing about backpacking is EASY.  

I thought 7 miles straight uphill in the heat was killer? Now I find 9.5 miles down steep, rocky steps combined with biting black files is possibly even harder.

We did it, though. Sore hips, knees, shoulders and 2 killer blisters growing minute by minute. Alien toe could win a beauty contest...disgusting.

On the trail, it is gorgeous, following the might Merced River. Astounding views over snow glittered Vogelsang Pass..truly do feel as if we are on the top of the world. Meadow after meadow, water flowing like melted silver...nurturing dream-like wildflowers, even the spectacular Yosemite Lily.

Last 2-3 hours are extremely hot--so thankful to finally arrive at Merced. A cool high Sierra camp, a dunk in the river (though we feel as if we are on the "wrong side of the camp" as we stroll through with wet clothes just washed in the river.) Meet an awesome woman--in her 70s-- hiking the loop alone--an artist and wanderer with her sketchbook. We hang out with her at the river, peaceful and on the same page.  A father a two sons in camp, one off to college, one off to grad school. Many people bringing and leaving pieces of the mountains in their life.

We have laughing fits as we take our place on the hiking social ladder, definitely riff-raff on the "wrong side of the camp" and loving it. So wonderful to be with my oldest and dearest friend.

Not an ounce left to give, but heart overflowing

7/14 Tuolumne to Vogelsang

We start on the John Muir Trail and head over 7 miles uphill—1500 foot elevation gain. We pass the tree line, approaching 10,000 feet. But it’s HOT, HOT, HOT even at that elevation. It takes us 8 hours, never ending stone stairs & steps. 

Blisters go wild, big toe and pinkie (which soon becomes “the alien toe.”) Meet Karen & Kim as they descend, graciously donate their bug nets and more insect repellant…as we head for the army of stingers ahead. Vogelsang is gorgeous, breathtaking peaks, glittered with snow—golden light over Lake Fletcher…and bugs. Mosquito heaven! We lumber into camp, once again wiped out, zombie-like shuffle and finally find a spot to camp (“get this thing off my back!” I was ready to pass out.) Cover up head to toe, set up camp, filter water, soak sore feet in the icy lake and cook dinner. Gorgeous view from our granite kitchen…marmots, rabbits,  and bushy coyotes running in the meadow. The last sunlight touches the top of Fletcher Peak like Midas, turning them to gold, an almost-full moon and Mars alongside. 

Glen Aulin...coming in backwards...visiting Mo's Rock

Glen Aulin Camp... it's a gorgeous hike along the breathtaking Merced River...so many stops that make us pause. The hike is long...we are sore... 6.9 miles in total back to Tuolumne Meadows. But we make a pit-stop at Mo's Rock. The sacred place to remember my first best friend, dog of all dogs.

We plunge into the icy water and are replenished. It is moment to remember, to enjoy, to appreciate what has been, what is  and what is to come. 

We push forward, in awe of Tuolumne's gifts until we make it to our second night coziness.

And it begins...

High Sierra Camp...here we come!

Starting point... May Lake! Heading to Glen Aulin Camp.

Heavy pack! Uphill heartbeat in my head. Thump....thump...THUMP! Backpack too small, digging into my left shoulder. Ouch. Quick dry towel as padding to the rescue.  But I am distracted by the amazing, craggly trails and views that display the top of the world meadows filled with lupines, asters, forget-me-nots, pestamon, columbine, and Tiger Lilies.

Exhausted. An uneven backpack. But the hiking is meditative, quiet and my footsteps, 26,000 of them, equal 9.5 miles as we reach Glen Aulin Camp. And it feels good to push ourselves until there is nothing left. We hike past the high sierra camp into the backpacker's camp...walking with nothing left to give. I barely make it up the boulders to our campsite. Fall over, like turtle onto his shell, as a group of teen boys hop up boulders like they carry no weight on their backs. But I push on...

We make our camp and enjoy a yummy dinner at sunset on a rocky boulders.

And then cozy in the tent, sleep, and ready to do it again!

Tuolumne Meadows... Returning to an Old Friend

It started with a request. 

A request from a good friend to hike some of all of the John Muir Trail with her daughter upon her high school graduation. No need to twist my arm...of course! Over ten days in the High Sierras plus my oldest and dearest friend decides to join us. Over the months, plans change. JMT permits not available. So we finally get a permit to hike the High Sierra Camp trail. Six, treasured nights! 

And so the adventure begins...

Always LOVE the drive up 395. Easy and a quick. Plus a tasty stop at Latte Da Coffee Cafe for a egg, avocado and sprout breakfast sandwich, and I appreciate every scrumptious bite. (My last real food for a while.) 

Meadows and marmots, red wine and old friends. Hang out on the bridge I've crossed for thirty years. Watch golden light caress the meadow grass. Perfect silhouettes of Cathedral, Unicorn and Half Dome. Camp fire and laughter. The perfect mix. 

Marmot LOVE 

Head to Yosemite Valley to do a warm-up hike up the Mist Trail (Vernal Falls.) Somehow, I am always in denial about uphill hikes. I block out the battle to fight gravity. It is hot, but we trek up and down at about 7 miles pre-trip. Mist welcomes us up  like cool and supportive friends cheering us on. Yet the steep, wet steps are grueling. At the top, I am once again reminded of the breathtaking views, like a surprise package rewrapped every year. It's a gift to do this hike and I feel even more ready for the adventure ahead. 

Honoring the sacred water