Perhaps this story is no laughing matter. But no one died so might as well get a giggle out of it. Donahue Pass is the first big mountain pass you have to hike over if you are south bound on the John Muir Trail (JMT). It is the boundary between Yosemite National Park and the Ansel Adams Wilderness.
And in case you didn’t know a pass is the low spot between 2 mountain peaks. And by low I mean not low. Donahue sits at the very low altitude of 11,056 feet above sea level. That’s approximately 11,056 feet above my house too. No, there is not a gondola but I think they should consider it.
So there we stand in the valley looking up towards Donahue peak considering the pass. My husband’s opinion was that I hike too slow to make this a good idea for today. We should camp and conquer Donahue tomorrow. Ashley voted to climb it now. I was torn. I was tired but did not appreciate being considered the weakest link or the reason we couldn’t get ‘er done. So due to the lack of fabulous camp sites where we stood and Ashley’s insistence that Donahue was meant to be climbed today we took off to make the climb.
And climb we did. I counted 1000 steps, all of which were straight up. So that equals a thousand foot climb and we are halfway there right? Wrong. That equals about 500 feet and you aren’t even close to there. In fact you still can’t see “there”. The pass is still hiding behind a peak at this point. This is where we crossed paths with “Blue” and “Machete” (aren’t trail names just the best). We chatted a minute while we all tried to pretend we were just fine and not about to pass out due to lack of oxygen. We came to the conclusion at that altitude there is no air in the air. After our friendly chat we parted ways and continued our steep mountain climb. Then “Blue” yells back at us, “you guys got your feet wet yet?” No idea what the old guy is talking about we are like “umm, no sir, umm, huh?” He doesn’t explain. Which really was for the best. See I really don’t love mountain roads with steep cliffs on the sides. I always make my husband drive these roads. Especially if there is snow or rain, or a cloud, or I’m hungry or itching or, ok you get the picture. He drives it. This time we are walking it and my option is walk it or don’t but this is the way of the JMT. So I’m doing it. Just stay close to the wall and don’t look down. Then I saw my death before my eyes. Water was RUSHING across the 2-3 foot wide trail and down the mountain. Basically a waterfall with no hand rails or foot bridge. You just tromp through it like a real hiker.
Nope. Nope. Nope. Ok fine. I’m not turning back. And by George I’m not going to be weakest link. Crossed the waterfall. Did not die. Winning. Thank God that’s over. Except it’s not over. We had to cross like 6 of them. Maybe it was more like 3 of them. I can’t be sure cause it felt like a lot. Either way I did it and this felt like a win. That part of the trail behind us it opens up into another beautiful valley. (Where in hindsight we should have camped but of course didn’t). We followed the trail around the side of a peak and then you could see the pass. Finally. But omg it was still far away and we were not even close to up. There was so much up left to hike.
Me to myself: you are not the weakest link. You wanted this. You were made to do hard things. You got this. On repeat for the next 1000 feet.
Now don’t picture this pass as being a sweet little trail through a green grassy mountain pass where Julie Andrew’s spins in a circle singing do ra me. Or whatever she was singing. This is boulders. And snow.
And suddenly I’m waist deep in snow trying to pull myself and my 46lbs pack up on the next boulder. Doug is ahead of me. I notice him being grumpy but I just thought this was a hard climb and we are all tired and he’s not loving it. No big deal. I’ll just leave him alone. Ashley is following me. Kinda. She also kinda weaving around from rock to rock. Whatever. As long as she’s coming she can play hopscotch all she wants to. We can no longer see a trail. We are just aiming for the top of the pass. Just climb. Go up and we will find it. Probably. Doug disappears from sight around the curve. I keep climbing. At one point laying on my belly on a rock I barely pulled myself onto. Thank you snow.
Eventually I find Doug. He’s sitting on a rock on to top of the pass. He’s angry. He can’t even tell me why he is angry. Since I’m off duty and left my assessment skills at home it took me a little while to realize he was not feeling like himself. I think I finally got it when he threw (like actually threw) his backpack down and announced “I AM DYING RIGHT HERE ON THIS ROCK!” This is about the time Ashley wanders up with hair and hiking poles sticking out in all directions. She looked like she lost the war. I go back to explaining to Doug that we would die if we stayed on the pass. I started to panic a little. The wind was cold. We were at 11,000 feet. We were exposed on the pass and dark was coming in the next hour. And Doug is refusing to move. He spewed something ugly at me but it didn’t make real good sense and it hit me. He had altitude sickness and he didn’t know what he was doing really. He wasn’t altered like someone who didn’t know their name. He just couldn’t think this through.
Great. I put on my bossy pants. “Get up. You can die tomorrow. Today we’re getting off this pass. You can quit tomorrow. But for now get up”
Doug: I’m hitch hiking to Fresno and flying home!
Me: FINE. TOMORROW. Today you are walking off this pass!
Like a miracle from the lord he got up and put on his backpack and followed me. At this point I’ve not paid Ashley a bit of attention. She also follows me off the pass. But she looks like a baby giraffe on new legs trying to ice skate. Her hiking poles are in the air as much as they are on the ground. This is perfect. I’ve got ding and dong following me off a mountain pass in almost dark.
I find a place to camp that is not flat. Not 100ft from the trail. Not 100 ft from the water source but I’ve got to get us in tents ASAP. Doug rejects the spot. Refuses to camp there. We keep moving. I am all but running down the south side of this pass with both of them still galavanting along behind me.
I start praying we would find a sight Doug would tolerate. The Lord provided. Doug found a spot he liked. I set up the tent while Doug ate a granola bar he didn’t want to eat. Ashley proceeded to set up her tent. Kinda. I knew she knew how. She wasn’t selling it though. The tent finally went up. Then the rain fly. She flung the rain fly over it like one would toss the clean sheet over the mattress when making the bed. She pronounced herself done. I offered to help. “No thanks”
Mmmmmmk then.
I gave her a granola bar which she ate. Then she went to bed. I stood there staring. Her tent wasn’t all the way up. But she sure was in it. Since I thought our coworkers would judge me for letting her blow away on the first pass I secured her rain fly. I’m a good friend like that.
So here we are. Over the pass. In tents for the night. Both the altitude afflicted hikers were sleeping. I took a moment to be super thankful I wasn’t sick too and that we were all safe for the night. Yosemite was officially behind us and tomorrow we start Ansel Adam’s. Tonight I fell asleep smiling.
Until next time Donahue.
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