Sometime in the first few days of September, Din and I were walking the aisles of Grocery Outlet in Quincy when a woman stopped us to ask about our trip. She was skeptical about us heading into the mountains at this time of year and was asking why we were going so late. “We’re actually ahead of schedule and positioned to get through the mountains well before the first average snowfall.” She dismissed this and talked about the hurricane and recent storms that dropped snow in the mountains. She then paused for a moment, glancing from me to Din and with a stern face said, “I’d be looking for snow.”
As if travelling with a baby wasn’t enough, moving into the Sierras upped the ante for us. We walked deeper into the mountains where we found ourselves regularly dealing with afternoon thunderstorms and hail, including some storms that resulted in high water levels that prohibited us from crossing swollen creeks on trail. With the colder days and nights, we added our cold weather clothes to our load, topped off with a couple of bulky bear cans to satisfy local management area requirements. Our bigger packs got bigger, mine weighing in at 50 lbs, prior to taking on a bear can and some of our cold gear.
Getting our Butts Kicked
We had heard from others earlier on the trail that 20 miles per day elsewhere is more like 15 miles per day in the Sierras. We weren’t sure what to make of this, was this just due to most people experiencing big mountains for the first time early on in the trail or were conditions actually that difficult? After waiting out a storm for a couple days in Pinecrest, we made our way up Sonora Pass and shortly thereafter into Yosemite National Park. The trail brought us up one canyon, down another and up again. Again and again and again. Gone were the dirt paths with a light duff layer of pine needles. In their stead, were cobblestone paths and deep sets of rock steps. Coupled with the dwindling light, we found ourselves working all day striving to hit 20 miles. We only managed that once, otherwise the new normal seemed to be walking full days of 16-18 mi with 6,000 ft elevation gain.
The long days, steep terrain and heavy packs left us exhausted at the end of each day. Throughout the trail, we had little down time to ourselves. There was always something to do whether on a break or at camp. Change diapers, wash diapers, feed Din, get water, filter water, entertain Din, make dinner, setup the tent, put Din to sleep and more. The only free moments we had to ourselves were usually after putting Din to sleep, which we typically used to review the day and cover the next days plan before falling asleep ourselves. We learned that many other hikers download movies and tv shows and spend their evenings being entertained by their phones in their tent. It felt as if we were hiking different trails.
The Horocrux
Early on, we dubbed the baby carrier, “the horocrux” as it felt as if it was stealing part of our souls. Baby gear is not designed for long hikes, let alone thru hikes and we came across the limitations and downsides of the pack early on. The biggest issue we dealt with was related to the frame. Part of the frame runs along the base of the pack behind the hip belt. There is no padding in the center of the hipbelt which results in the frame digging into our lower backs, especially on uphills. We tried to ameliorate this with small pieces of foam padding and things like our winter hat but nothing fully prevented it from causing us pain. It bothered Alana more than I, so as a result, I had been taking Din and the pack whenever possible since early in Oregon. However with the increase in clothes, the bear cans and more food, I had to take our other pack. This left Alana with the carrier and it continued to be a problem. So much so that it caused a big lump on her back and prevented her from sleeping on her back at night. Frustrated with the trail and not wanting to aggravate the injury any further, Alana opted for a break once we hit Tuolomne Meadows. We met Adam, a trail friend of ours in Mammoth, and the two of us agreed to continue on together. Alana and Din would go south to my friend Tyler’s place to rest and we’d see them later on.
Into the Storm
I’d spent nearly 1,500 miles hiking with Din and Alana and heading out without them was strange, offering a different experience. There was no need to recite Dr Seuss stories aloud or sing my usual array of lullabies while walking down the trail. At breaks, I just sat down and ate what I wanted and looked around. There were no diapers to be changed or washed. And at night, I didn’t even need to set up the tent, instead simply laying out my sleeping pad beneath a pinon pine and sleeping under the stars and full moon.
I had been apprehensive about continuing on prior to leaving town due to seeing a forecast for snow later in the week. On Thursday, our second day on the trail, we ran into someone who confirmed that and mentioned that it looked pretty serious. In a brief spot of cell reception, we checked the forecast and saw there was up to a foot of snow being forecasted for Saturday alone, with more to come Sunday. I had 6 more days worth of food but wanted no part of that. Like with fire, problems in snow storms can compound and escate quickly, resulting in serious consequences that can be very difficult to resolve. We opted to make a push for two long days and exit the mountains into Bishop via Bishop Pass.
Our days started with headlamps on the trail and ended with headlamps on the trail. We forded rivers in the dark and walked below granite mountains and along alpine lakes by day. The last day brought us up and over two 12,000 ft passes over 32 miles. By the fading light of our headlamps, we made it to the parking lot at the trailhead at 9 pm Friday. The wind was already blowing strong and dark clouds hovered over the mountains but we were more or less out of trouble.*
*The parking lot was full but we didn’t find anyone leaving or heading back to town at that hour, forcing us to make camp. There were no campsites and we couldn’t find any places out of the wind, with the exception of the leeward side of the pit toilets. We plopped ourselves down next to them, wrapped our sleeping bags in our tents and tried to fall asleep. Rain and eventually snow, covered our sleeping setup and I retreated to a spot inside the restrooms on the concrete floor for shelter. Not the most pleasant night.
End of the Trail
We hitched into sunny Bishop the next morning, refueling at a local bakery while watching the dark clouds surround and envelop the high peaks. With the storm set to last for the weekend and being followed by near freezing temperatures, Tyler offered to pick me up and came up along with Alana and Din. We fled further south to his home in the high desert, where the storm meant temperatures in the 60s and a light smattering of rain.
I was content from my travels with Adam in the mountains and didn’t have much interest in continuing on without Alana and Din. Alana’s back had healed a substantial amount with the time off the trail, so we opted to just continue south from Tyler’s into the desert. After a few days rest for myself, Tyler dropped us off and we were back on the trail.
The trail shot up steeply from the road and towards the top I found myself plodding along sullenly. It was hot,a few dozen gnats swarmed around each of our heads, my shoulder hurt, my knees ached, my legs felt weary and Din was fussing. At the top, I mentioned to Alana I’m not sure I want to do this anymore. “Really? Then let’s be done with this and just go back to Tyler’s.” Alana had been frustrated with the trail for a while and had thought about leaving multiple times but continued on. With rested legs and a clearer head come morning, I wanted to push on. But Alana had no interest. We had agreed early on in the trip that if one of us felt like it was a death march, we would stop. It was clear that we had pushed past that point. Our time on the trail was over.
Descending the final few miles of trail to the road, I found my mind racing through many of the events and memories from our almost 3 months on the trail. I began to think of the things that’d be different and what we wouldn’t be experiencing anymore. The simplicity that comes with having all that you need on your back. Spending nearly every moment with my family outdoors. The satisfaction that comes from reaching our daily goal via our own physical effors. And the memories of Din gaining confidence in herself and her movements and interacting with her surroundings.
We traveled nearly 1,500 miles as a family. There were many who doubted us prior to the trip and said that hiking the whole thing is not posible. I don’t think that’s true, nor do I think it’s important. Our goal from the start was to spend time as a family outside and do something that was immersive, fun and challenging. We largely achieved that and will be leaving the trail with memories for a lifetime.
So proud of you all Jack! What an accomplishment and a memory to last a lifetime. Glad you are all safe and well ❤️
So incredible. Immensely proud of you and Alana! It was a bittersweet decision to leave the trail but what you accomplished was amazing! The memories will last a lifetime and the experience has changed and shaped all of you – especially Enedina. What an intrepid traveler/adventurer she will be with that as her foundation. ❤️❤️❤️
Well done, Jack and Alana! So proud of you both and amazed at your incredible accomplishment! Glad that you are all safe and well.