John Muir Trail Day 6: It’s All Uphill From Red’s

JMT Day 6 — 8/9/24
Red’s Meadow to Duck Creek
Shade and Hot Springs Camp to Palace Perch Camp
JMT miles:  11.4 miles
JMT total: 47.6 miles
Elevation change: 2,671ft gain, 561ft loss

It’s hard to gauge how beneficial our rest day at Red’s was for our physical and mental well-being, but our longest and hottest day yet may have been more arduous without the time off. Instead, it was merely a blur in the heatwaves. We spent the entire day gradually climbing out of the trail’s low point, finally making it back into the cool alpine breeze when it mattered most, during the heat of the day. The pace felt casual, the legs felt good, and the cool evening felt refreshing. A fresh start to the next section.

The morning routine was just that, routine. As usual, we were up at 6am, and aside from having a picnic bench and new friend, everything was as it had been since we started hiking. Granola followed tea, then we put the finishing touches on our backpacks. Back to the resort I carried a box full of trash and goodies for the hiker box. My backpack definitely felt heavier than it had when we arrived, but with just four days of food again, it wasn’t the crush-me-into-the-earth feeling that was sure to come with our next resupply at Muir Trail Ranch. Trash went in the garbage can, food went in the red freebie bin. Then with a quick goodbye, my mom and I shouldered our packs and walked out of this smudge of civilization. Right on time at 8am.

We hiked straight into an old burn area, which was lush with tall bushes and fat gooseberries. The sunshine was hot already, but we endured, knowing that the shade on the other side wasn’t too far away. I sighed when we hit it, both relishing the last cool remnants of night and girding myself for ten miles of uninterrupted climbing. It’s what needed to happen in order for us to return to the alpine, a day of paying our dues.

The shadowed switchbacks were mellow and smooth, and soon we were 1,300ft up without really noticing it. That was the rest day at work. Our legs were charged up and ready to hike. A lady named Elfin told us that we looked like walking flowers, which pleased us both. I liked her considered sentences and unhurried vibe. We parted with a recommendation that we pick some wild red onions at the next creek. Not knowing what they looked like, I didn’t have much hope that we could.

After a short break, the day was in full swing and brutally hot. My leggings were stifling, and I wondered whether loose pants wouldn’t be a cooler way to protect myself from the sun. But did it really matter? Leggings are more stylish so I was sticking with them. At one of the many turns across Crater Creek, we wet our lower legs and walked on with makeshift air conditioning.

The red domes of cinder cones and the muddy cappuccino of Mammoth Mountain were long gone behind us when we stopped at Deer Creek for an early lunch. It was the last water before camp, so stopping was an easy choice. And it was a nice spot with ample campsites. We found one away from the half-dozen hikers who congregated at the crossing and spread out to chill. Two hours later, it was the heat of the day, and time to hike again. Hopefully there would be shade and maybe a breeze coming our way.

For a while, there were neither and we boiled on the long dusty traverse through anonymous forest. Birds squawked and I puffed. Some hard candies helped us get through the worst of it.

Soon we were above 10,000ft, and the shade was truly cool again. The hot blur was replaced with a cool blur as I followed behind my mom, breathing her dust. She was charging, and it was good to see. We checked off our fastest miles of the whole hike so far, taking advantage of the smooth tread and flat trail.

At 4:30pm we crossed Duck Creek in a tucked-in meadow. It was time to camp, and we were surprised to find that we were the only ones who thought so. We had our pick of the campsites, squeezing our tent between rocks on a perch overlooking it all. A wonderful spot.

The evening moved on, bringing with it the sliver of a moon and a big pot of beans. In the cliff face above, my mom found the face of a sleeping dragon and once I found it I couldn’t forget the sinister gaze. And for that reason, I was grateful when dusk faded to twilight, pushing us to bed as the temperature plummeted. As soon as I lay down, I wondered why I hadn’t done it earlier. The hard ground felt sublime after crinkling my back and legs like a pretzel for hours. It was a good thing I was going to lay unfolded for several hours, I thought. How pleasant. With excitement about tomorrow still echoing between us, sleep finally shut down our fruitless speculation.