Tag: Yosemite

Day 28: Stream Confluence to Dorothy Lake Plateau

Have you ever tried pooping in the woods while a giant swarm of mosquitoes incessantly attacks you? I have, and I can tell you it isn’t pleasant. Welcome to mosquito hell.

The day started out pleasantly enough. A couple of short climbs over mountain ridges led steeply down into narrow creek canyons. While trying to cross Piute Creek over a log jam, I stepped onto what looked like solid wood and my leg immediately plunged deep into the dark water. Let that be a lesson to never trust wood as a foothold. It was a minor inconvenience however, and I continued trekking over another small pass and along pretty Wilma Lake. By the time I got to Falls Creek, I had hiked 17 miles and was about ready to find a spot to set up camp.

Unfortunately Falls Creek turned out to be a muddy marsh, and as I walked ahead with one eye out for a good tentsite, the mosquito hordes descended. I quickly put my head net on, only to trap several mosquitoes inside it with me. Smashing those I could see I ran ahead, bloody mosquito corpses rolling around the bottom of the net. The only thing to do was to try to keep moving fast enough that the vicious bugs didn’t have time to land and add another bite to my already swelling body. I had never hiked more than about 20 miles in a day before, but I kept on pushing well beyond that in hopes of reaching the end of this hellish nightmare swamp. My legs burning, I put earbuds in and started playing Linkin Park songs to keep me going. The trail often disappeared into the thick mud, forcing long detours to the side or risking getting my feet stuck. I imagined sinking down into the bog, the mosquitoes feasting on my ailing body as darkness fell. Some hiker would find me in the morning, covered in muck and swollen beyond all recognition.

After what felt like hours, I finally made it to some higher ground firm enough to pitch my tent. As soon as it was set I plunged inside, bringing a few of the bugs with me. Most remained stuck outside, and with a mixture of glee and horror I watched them cling in their hundreds to the tent mesh. I just hoped they wouldn’t be there in the morning.

Day 27: Glen Aulin to Stream Confluence

A bright morning walking through wide, grassy meadows led me up to Miller Lake, a crystal clear pool complete with tiny beach! Tossing my shoes aside I stepped in to the cool water to soothe my calloused feet. Digging in to a tortilla sandwich with my toes in the sand, I mentally prepared myself for the pass ahead.

The approach to Benson Pass looked simpler than many of the previous hair-raising passes I had crossed farther south. Despite the apparent ease, I still managed to make it into a challenge by losing the trail and having to shove my way through thickets of manzanita bushes until I eventually found it again. The path followed a small creek through a canyon before making a sharp turn to the west and over the pass. The top offered some nice views but the real prize was another gorgeous lake just below, where I took off my (by this point probably very smelly) clothes and attempted a swim. Mosquitoes swarmed as soon as I revealed my bare skin, cutting my time sunbathing on the rocks short.

A short distance down the trail from the lake I found a copse of trees with some nice flat tentsites. The streams on either side meant more mosquitoes though, and both I and a Japanese couple camping nearby dove straight into our tents after dinner. Little did I know this was just a taste of the true horror the next day would bring.

Day 26: Donahue Pass to Glen Aulin

Entering Yosemite National Park along the meandering Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River, I found it difficult to enjoy the lush green meadows and beautiful alpine scenery surrounding me. Meredith and I had gotten into a heated argument that morning, and emotions were raw as we slowly descended from the snowy heights of the pass to the high plateau of Tuolumne Meadows. I got a cheeseburger from the campground store but didn’t really taste it as we sat at a picnic table outside, not talking much while the bustling tourist hordes flitted around us. After two weeks hiking together this was her last stop, and while she caught a ride down to the valley I got back on the trail to continue my journey north.

Feeling dejected due to our fraught departure, it took some time for me to look up and pay attention to the mountains again. When I finally did, I was rewarded with a view of the Tuolumne River roaring over a 50-foot drop in the granite, the mist from the falls casting a rainbow inside the narrow canyon. As I stood there on a rocky outcrop above the tumult, icy mist droplets peppering my face, a strong sense of calm washed over me. Refreshed by this visceral reminder of where I was I continued along the path, taking in the simple beauty of walking in nature.