1 August . . . “Ride the rumor, go with the flow”*

Day one . . . I slept like a baby, at least long enough to miss what I hear was a noisy party evening in the camp––those damn K-mart campers over there!!

The sun is very definitely up in the valley. I thought I might have time to hike up in the shade and maybe I will, but for the moment I am still avoiding the future. 

Twelve o’clock and already I am in love. 

Sitting here in Little Yosemite Valley. Quiet. All of last night’s valley revelers are slogging their way up half dome. I went all the way up  there, but got a serious case of of fear and didn’t climb the cables to the very top––I also thought I might save my left leg from any possible damage. 

Met Jen and Julie last night––two buxom east coast yuppie babes––they’re also doing the muir but I think I’ll be letting them go at a certain point, as they are looking to complete the journey in  fifteen days . . . but then again. 

Also met some Germans here. Okay, time to pack up and get out. 

10:30 a.m. junction to Half Dome, heading to Sunrise. 

5:30 p.m. got into Sunrise at about five p.m.––green and grand and quiet, except for the sound of the work crews, loungers, or the horse people or whoever they are––people living in canvas huts? 

No sign of Jen & Julie. No sign of all the people that were ahead or behind me. 

Pics one and two (off dad’s roll) sunrise camp panorama*

Pic#3 sunrise on meadow, pic#4, mark, jen, pic#5-10 panorama up out of sunrise . . . . 


I don’t think I’ve done the trail yet, where I didn’t/haven’t spent a long while on that first morning, getting out of the valley, or LYV, just sitting there, thinking . . . maybe thinking how I could just stop right now and turn around––it’s never been an obvious thought, but maybe deeply buried in there, something arguing within me, but then, the urge always wins out and the  pack gets hoisted and the legs start moving and so and so, on we go. 

I think I had the hots for Jen and Julie. Don’t remember them at all now, but I think they might have been stoking the fire that first few days and giving me a reason to hustle along, although I never found them again, I don’t think––maybe when I turn the page and get to TM, they’ll be there. 

Murphy’s Law on the JMT with regard to lovely women is they are either going in the opposite direction, or they are out to establish some sort of boring speed record or . . . they’re with some  guy––they’re never going your way. 

I’ve never really trained for the JMT. I don’t go out, months prior, with my pack filled with rocks and hike up steep hills. I don’t bother spending a few days at altitude, before I hit the trail, but then I think my life, for my age, is maybe just a little more athletic than lots of people. 

I’m not athlete, by far––I don’t run triathlons––I get bored as hell, just running, but I walk a lot. I ride my bike . . . I play tennis, go to the climbing gym . . . I don’t sit at a desk job all day––my job is rather physical, when I am working . . . 

. . . . So usually I get it in my head to do the trail and if anything, I stop a lot of the stuff I might normally be doing and getting little aches and pains from. 

I think I’d done something to one of my legs or feet––probably had a case of bad shoes or something, prior to leaving and I got on the trail anyway, determined to slowly walk it out and off of me. Slow start, good start. Ain’t failed me yet. 

*”Ride the rumor, go with the flow” no idea what this means, but it’s a sribble in the book

* Guess who didn’t have any film (remember that?) in the camera

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