We woke in the hotel a little later than usual, it was nice to sleep in for once and enjoy the soft cosy bed! The nearest breakfast diner didn’t open until 7 and the first trolley up the mountain didn’t leave until 9am. Felt pretty lazy in comparison to any other day on trail, but none the less we packed up our things, strapped on our shoes and packs, and left the hotel before they even opened the lobby.

We hit up The Good Life for breakfast and stuffed ourselves to the gills before rolling our satiated bodies to the nearest bus stop. We hopped on the first line early, then as we walked to our changeover we met Cowboy Dave and Tristan sitting happily on the bench waiting for the trolley to take them up the hill. They were both delightful, both retirement age, but so full of life, energy, and charisma. We chatted on about where they were from, what challenges they have faced, where their favorite town eatery was, and of course let them in on our JMT plans and hopes to finish by the weekend.

We all got off the trolley at Horseshoe Lake after a chat filled ride. The sky was overcast and there were a whole horde of hikers waiting to get on and head into Mammoth. We bid them adieu and started trekking up towards Mammoth Pass for the 3 mile connector trail that would take us back to the JMT.

For those of you who are keeping score, you will notice we hiked into Mammoth on the Duck Lake trail which was our fastest route into town so we could be sure that Izzie was on time for her interview, however we came back out the Horseshoe Lake trail. This means we will have missed 7 miles of the JMT. We both made peace with this decision. It was nice to come out a different way than going in to see new trail and we had already made up the difference in off trail miles, plus I did the whole purist mile thing on the PCT in 2018 and Izzie was more interested in the experience and enjoying herself than counting every inch of the JMT. Plus we had already decided not to go down into Yosemite Valley and instead finish in Tuolumne because we didn’t want a beautiful wilderness adventure tainted by a gridlocked tourist infested trail system. 

We chatted on with Cowboy Dave and Tristan the whole 3 miles of the connector trail, and when we joined back with the JMT we were all happy and relieved to be back on trail. It’s like an old friend that needs a little care, you almost worry something has happened to it while you were away. We trekked on and a red cindercone came into view to the north. We skirted it and dropped into a green lush meadow at its base. We continued to descend and saw that a strong windstorm had felled a path of carnage through the forest and cracked a huge swath of trees in two, leaving a jagged sea of stumps to walk through. It gave a morose mood to the already overcast grey sky.

There were a few patches of lush green life in the tree graveyard. We found monkeyflowers and mosses clinging to lush creeks, and gooseberries just starting the first stages of plumping up their hairy fruits. Amongst the windblown downed trees we found regrowth starting. Small saplings had  sprouted up and grasses and flowers had begun to cover the ground again, bringing hope of new life to come.

We neared Devil’s Postpile National Monument and the Jeffery pines and aspen started to take over the basalt bedrock outcrops that started to appear. We snaked through the padded paths until finally we saw the signs and the huge 70 foot tall formation of basalt columns, perfectly fitting together like honeycomb, that they call The Devil’s Postpile. Cowboy Dave, Tristan, Izzie and myself stopped to have lunch and take in the strange and beautiful formation. 

After stuffing ourselves again we waved goodbye to Cowboy and Tristan as they headed back to the PCT and Izzie and myself decided to climb to the top of Devil’s Postpile to get a better look. The top was slightly domed and smoothed over, scraped flat by a glacier long ago. It looked like an armadillo’s back where all the tops of the basalt columns came together like interlocking scales. After taking our time and appreciating it, we pressed on. But not before taking a quick dip in King Creek just before the edge of the National Monument!

We soon found the segment of the JMT which totally diverges from the PCT and scales its way up a ridge to some alpine lakes. We started climbing while the sun started beating down on our heads. Only a half mile in we met a Forest Service employee doing some trail work. She levered a boulder from the side of the trail into position for a new step she was creating. We thanked her for all her work and kept climbing!

The forest here seemed to be predominantly fir trees, and many of them were downed by either wind or root rot. Chunks of dried tree limbs like fragments of kindling riddled the understory of the forest and the edges of the trail. In the distance we could see a jagged ridge like shark teeth standing dark and strong in the distance, with Iron Mountain standing prominently from amongst the Ritter Range.

As we continued to climb we found the first stagnant lake and soon were mobbed by a gang of mosquitos. Little did we know that this first incursion was only the first salvo with respect to the mosquito hordes that awaited us at higher lakes. We climbed on in the hot afternoon and continually were attacked. Legs, face, butt, hands, neck, cheeks, arms, nothing was safe. Izzie even broke out the DEET, but it almost didn’t seem to faze them. Their lust for their blood meal was stronger than our chemicals and constant smacks.

We climbed higher and still they didn’t give up. Lake after lake passed by as we pressed on higher up the long climb. We soon found the top out and a place above the tree line that could be safe from the flying vampires and dropped our bags in search of water for the dry camp (the further away we slept from stagnant water the better!). But they clung to us like we were stealing their life savings. Wave after wave of buzzing, stinging, blood-filled proboscis-poking parasites came at us as we stopped to filter. You would smack 8 or 9 off at a time and when you looked back another 8 or 9 had taken their place.

We quickly finished filtering and made a mad dash for a high camp hoping for gusting winds to keep them at bay. No refuge, it wasn’t until we finally pitched and dove into our tent that we had any respite from their relentless assault. We could finally relax, but not before almost every inch of our legs, arms, and faces had welts from the mosquito bites. Not exactly the glitzy picture-perfect image you see on a JMT Instagram post, but such is the reality of life. We settled in with some hot dinner and were thankful for our shelter, our tasty food, and a great new friendship with Tristan and Cowboy Dave, so all in all another great day on the trail!

• Hike Stats – Total Miles: 15 
  • JMT Miles: 12 (Mile 160- 172)  
  • Mammoth Pass Trail to JMT: 3 miles