Esther and Rachel helping to set up
The view from the porch looking south. The storm had moved northeast of us by this time and the clouds were starting to break up to reveal an incredible sunset. 
Rachel, Esther, and Adam
The Sandias- my home mountains. As the sun set over the West Mesa, the Sandias to the east were bathed in an golden light. With them so close, it made me want to run away to the mountains that much more...
Looking up toward upper Evolution basin from camp. After a rather rainy night, I woke up to a wet sleeping bag and what seemed to be clearing skies. Worried that putting all of my things away wet would leave me miserable later that day, I made the unfortunate error of deciding to stick around camp until the sun rose to dry out my gear. As I impatiently waited, counting the minutes until the sun reached the valley, I watched the clouds start to rebuild right where the sun was going to come over the horizon. When the sun finally rose high enough to reach my location, so little of the light made it through the shifting clouds that I gave up and packed my gear despite its sogginess. Thus, I didn't end up leaving camp until 8:00 with a good five miles uphill to the pass still to climb.
The view back down Evolution Valley from the bench of Evolution Basin after a good switchback-laden climb to get me going in the morning.
Evolution Lake and the view toward the pass. An incredible view but notice the clouds that have started to build? Not a good sign. At this point I realized I needed to stop taking pictures and get my butt moving; I was still a good 3 miles from the top of the pass and a storm was definitely imminent. Although it was only around 10:00 am, early for afternoon thunderstorms, the hail started falling intermittently when I was just 2/3 of the way around the lake. Well above treeline at this point, I climbed past several more small alpine lakes without seeing anyone else on the trail. As I was filled with plenty of self doubt about what the hell I was doing here anyway, I found myself praying that someone else would come along so that at least if I was struck by lightning, they would know where to look for the body. It all sounds a bit over dramatic in hindsight, but I can't remember the last time I was so scared.
Mark and I on the way down LeConte Canyon from Muir Pass. Mark and I reached the pass with no further problems and were greeted by the amazing sight of an offer of beer from a guy named Grant at the hut at the top. Grant was something of a legend on the trail as this crazy dude who had hiked in several cases of beer and was handing them out at Muir Pass. Upon reaching the hut, we found the rumors to be true and not only was there beer (Tecate... can you ask for more?) but a portable, battery powered stereo playing reggae music. Hanging out with him and Mark while enjoying a respite from the weather made all of the stress of the day instantly better. Grant, as it turns out, has made this trip twice now and as far as I can tell, does it because he enjoys the through-hiking culture, but also values camping in luxury with his queen sized air mattress. Most of all, though, I think he just likes making people happy.
Hiking through the hail headed down from Muir Pass. Shortly after the second round of lighting and thunder stopped, Mark and I headed down into the LaConte Canyon. In the wake of the storm, we found incredibly cold winds and almost six inches of hail in some spots which seemed surreal for late July. Mark and I spent the afternoon hiking together and I learned a lot more about his unusual background. He had started hiking the JMT several weeks ago after going out for what he thought might be a couple night trip. When he just kept hiking, he predictably found himself short on food and subsisted on less than 800 calories a day provided mostly by other generous hikers. I would cross paths with Mark several times over the course of the next week or so and he remains one of the nicest, albeit most unusual, hikers I met on my trip. 
Blisters on the hips aside, I woke up on Monday morning excited to be on the JMT. I was headed into Evolution Valley, an area known for its beautiful meadows, gorgeous views, and a whole chain of mountains named for famous evolutionary thinkers... Mendel, Darwin, Lamarck, and Spencer. Of course, Wallace gets screwed again and misses out. Pausing after pack-up to take a quick photo of my camp site, I headed south up the South Fork of the San Joaquin River to its junction with Evolution Creek. The river itself was a deep shade of green as it swirled around the metamorphic rock of the sunny valley. It is amazing to think that the waters flowing through this valley will eventually flow through the Central Valley before being pumped south towards LA so we can grow alfalfa in our arid climate. 
Leaving the waters of the San Joaquin behind, I began the 25 switchbacks (I did actually count) up into the hanging Evolution Valley. Evolution Creak tumbles down this same slope in a beautiful series of falls and rapids like the one in the photo above. On the way up, I was passed by a pack of horses headed down and a few minutes later by their handler chasing after them. Once the runaway horses were recollected, they all beat me up the hill, leaving me wishing I had packed a horse to go along with the still ridiculously heavy pack on my back. 
Stopping for lunch at an quiet bend in the creek, I took advantage of being off trail to jump in for a swim and to laze around on nearby rocks on the warm sunny afternoon. It was one of those days when everything in the world just felt right. I sat watching the small trout swim through the creek for over an hour before finally getting up and bushwhacking my way back to the trail. Entering Evolution Meadow, I took off my boots again to wade across the shallow sandy creek and passed several elaborate campsites as I climbed toward the ranger station in McClure Meadow. 
Always looking my best while hiding out from the rain in camp at Darwin Creek. I got into camp pretty early as there was a significant climb ahead of me and I was not too excited about camping above treeline when there was a storm approaching. Unfortunately, I used the extra time to do some laundry which refused to dry over the following two wet days. This was also the only night that my tent decided to leak, although the wettest part of my sleeping bag was the foot which I had covered in a garbage bag to try to keep it dry. Once again condensation proves to be much greater than a couple of drips. 
Day 0: North Lake Trailhead to Piute Lake
Day 1: Piute Lake to the Junction of Piute Creek and the JMT
Looking back at the west side of Piute Pass from Humphrey's Basin. The alpine area up here was absolutely incredible with wide open expanses looking up toward the Glacial Divide to the south. I can't wait to get back here to explore the hundreds of alpine lakes that are scattered throughout the area. 
Crossing the 10,000 ft line on my way down the Piute Creek valley.
Hiking 13 miles on day 1? Bad idea. As the trail winded down Piute Canyon toward the South Fork of the San Joaquin River, it felt absolutely endless. Here I first learned the lesson that I kept learning over and over again throughout my hike; hiking downhill can often be just as difficult as hiking uphill. As I stumbled across the scree filled slopes that characterized the lower sections of this valley, all I could think of was how much I wanted a flat place to camp. When I finally fell into camp, I discovered that it is possible to get blisters on ones hips... but food and sleep are the best cures to help make it all better. 
The view from the top of the ridge looking toward the Kenai Peninsula. Across the arm, tucked into the clouds we could see almost Pyramid Peak, the elusive peak that Darcy and I have yet to climb after three summers of best intentions. Just another reason why I have to come back I suppose.
We eventually left the Bird Ridge trail and set off across the tundra to try to meet up with the Indian Valley trail about 2000 feet below us. While the slope was moderate, the soft tundra makes hiking off trail pretty simple... at least until we hit tree line.
Darcy and Rachel overlooking Indian Valley.
Taking a break on the way down. This is the photo Darcy is supposed to send me sometime in February of 2008 to remind me to start applying for jobs up north so I can play in the Chugach every afternoon. 
It would not be a proper hike without silly pictures. Darcy, Rachel and me looking our best as always.
