We walked this morning fast and fleet towards Tuolumne Meadows, food and fuel our motivation, it had to be a good day . . .
Right off we were blessed by another backpacker who we passed as we left our shoreside camp on Miller Lake. A wizened yet sturdy, and grey man, he approached us waving a half-pound bag of beef jerky. "I wonder if you all might want just a little extra weight for the day!" he called. Of course we would, was our response, eager always for something extra and unexpected to munch on. We stopped and chatted about our trip, the water ahead, trail conditions, etc. We all commented on the surprisingly ominous looking grey, cloudy skies overhead. And soon enough we were off and bouncing down the trail.
The stretch between Miller Lake and Tuolumne turned out to be a great relief. We had a long relaxing descent over gently descending pine-forested grounds, a nice mile and a half stroll over a dry meadow, more slight drop-offs and only a bit of switchback climbing.
The grey skies lingered throughout the day, creating a dreary backdrop to the stark mountain peaks starting to appear to the south and east before us. As we trucked along the Tuolumne River on our final five-mile stretch, pellets of icy sleet even began to fall, but only for a brief time.
All day long we had pleasant interactions with people we met on the trail. We passed a group of young school kids and their camp counselors who were amazed at how long we had been out hiking -- two of them said it was their dream to do this someday. A park ranger on horseback as equally impressed and supportive. We discovered as we continued to make our way further into the busy park civilization that he had spread word of our thusfar accomplishment to everyone he met along his own trip back to the meadows ranger station. Another couple was simply dumbfounded that anyone could do such a thing as walk for five months on end all the way from Mexico to Canada. Eliza has really perfected exactly how to tell people about our trip -- how to be succinct and avoid confusion by avoiding any lengthy description of our "flip-flop." I felt it really encouraging actually to be getting such a supportive response today. I suppose it helps when the overall motivation seems to be dwindling a bit.
At 3:30 or so we arrived at Tuolumne Meadows. We checked out the supplies at the store, which were ample and on sale due to the fast appoaching end of season (the whole thing shuts down next Sunday), and cleaned up a bit and went into the counter service cafe and ordered ourselves some burgers and fries. As we stood eating at the window, the clouds finally let loose and gave the bustling parking lot and the expansive sunburnt meadow beyond a good heavy shower.
After a satisfying late lunch, we went back into the store and did our shopping for the next week. This little place was awesome. They had a great selection of items, complete with organic foods, loads of cookies, excellent beers, and very reasonable prices to boot. All in all, I'd say it was one of the most convenient and high quality resupplies of the whole trail.
We spent the rest of the dwindling afternoon of this last full day of our summer out in the brown, now sunny and warm, meadow sorting through and repackaging things, sipping on a couple of Samuel Smith Oatmeal Stouts. It was a beautiful spot we had and we both felt good.
I wasn't able to use the pay phones to send out my journal entries and e-mails for some reason, but at the last minute I asked at the store and they let me use their phone which worked.
Eliza got word that she has the opportunity to take a job back in Oakland this fall with Habitat for Humanity, which is both exciting and daunting as it demands that we both start to make some real decisions about what our plans are following this trip's conclusion in a few weeks. I am really glad for her and it is a god job. Now I just have to wrap my own mind around the possibility of moving out to the Bay Area and finding work there.
We discussed this and other things as we set of again down the trail at dusk, the sun sunk low down into the heavy fast flying clouds in the west, silver lining and flashes of color illuminating the spiry mountain peaks around.
Darkness descended and we pushed on out of the park meadow area with the lights of our headlamps leading the way down the wide trail. Eliza commented appropriately that this trail is our home, and when we pass through towns or through these national parks with their rules and restrictions and car campsites and roads -- it is only then that we actually feel homeless out here.
So we walked our first steps on the John Muir Trail in shrouded darkness of night. Overhead, to the west, great flashes of lightning lit up the heavens without a sound.
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