From JMT mile 86.0 to 95.8 Total: 12.2 miles hiked 8/09
On the eleventh day of my John Muir Trail trek I hiked from Vermilion Valley Ranch (VVR) to the Bear Creek Ford, via ferry and foot. Regrettably, Bob bailed out at VVR, leaving Keith and I to continue the JMT on our own.
We woke up early, as usual, in the Mushroom City campground at VVR. Bob had arranged a ride with a shuttle that would take him to Fresno, and it was leaving early, as it was a very long drive. It was at this point that Bob and Keith exchanged sleeping bags. Bob’s was a 20 degree bag, and Keith had been freezing in a Summer-weight bag. Thanks, Bob! Keith was much happier. Bob also pressed his unused “Wag Bag” into my hand. Ugh. I didn’t really want it, but I was supposed to have it. It was used to carry out any solid waste (poo) you might make within the Whitney Zone, since it was impossible to dig a hole in solid rock. I suppose I should’ve said “Thanks, Bob,” but I wasn’t really feeling it.
Now, Keith and I didn’t have much to do until 9am, when the ferry left, but we weren’t about to let Bob escape so easily. We packed up everything, then carried it up the hill to the cafe. We went inside and grabbed a table, ordered food, then waited for our breakfast. I had eggs over easy and hash browns, and my partners had breakfast burritos, which were way too big for me. There was coffee on the woodstove, which was heating things nicely, as it was chilly outside. We hung out and yakked about our plans. Bob was already feeling a “need for completion” and intended to finish the JMT next year; I told him I would probably be up to it, depending on how things went with Vicki. Keith and I were planning to hike together to Whitney, where my car awaited us.
Bob’s ride was leaving at 8am, so we went outside to see him off. All of us were sad. We shook hands, swore eternal friendship, etcetera, and then Bob was gone. It was going to be a sadder JMT without his humor, his laughter, and his joie de vive. Hiking this trail had been on his Bucket List for years, and I had a feeling that he wasn’t finished yet. With luck, I would hike the high passes of the High Sierra with him in 2026. Good-bye, Bob!
We went back into the warm cafe and Keith had a second cup of coffee. As 9am approached, we visited the counter in the store to settle our tab. Mine came to about $80, and included $40 for the two ferry rides. Not bad, as far as VVR tabs went. Many people spent $200 with ease. Then we went outside and hung out near our backpacks in the courtyard with the other hikers. Captain Paint arrived and led us down to Lake Edison, where we boarded the ferry. The captain gave us his Safety Spiel, untied the lines, and fired up the engines. We were on our way back to the Sierra! This morning was a better ride than yesterday, as there wasn’t any breeze making the surface choppy. Lake Edison was quite large, and it took us thirty minutes to reach the dock at the far end.
We started hiking east, up the Mono Creek Trail. It was about a mile and a half to the JMT, and it took us about an hour. We were back on the main trail at 10:30am, which was a lot later than we liked.
Since we were starting a bit late, we didn’t pause to go fishing in Mono Creek. This place had a great campsite, which Vicki and I stayed at back in 2022. That time, we left early, so Vicki could climb two thousand feet in the cool shady morning. Keith and I didn’t have that luxury. We were doomed to climb in the heat of the day. Oh well. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do.
Luckily, the trail was relatively smooth, with few big steps or other annoyances common in the Sierra. We were hiking from 7900 feet to 9900 feet, thus well below treeline. Trees make dirt, which provides smooth hiking. To tell the truth, Keith and I had no real trouble with the ascent. We just hiked along, with smaller baby steps where it got steep.
The trail eventually topped out and the switchbacks ended. We headed south on a relatively flat trail for over a mile. We were on the western ridge of Volcanic Knob, and there was pumice and lava-related rock along the trail. I wondered if that weird spring down below was due to residual volcanic activity. Soon, we arrived at the Bear Ridge Trail junction. This side trail led all the way down to Lake Edison. People often hiked it heading northbound when they knew they couldn’t make it in time for the ferry.
It took us three hours to do the four mile climb, which wasn’t the best pace in the world. But it was also lunchtime, so we stopped for a great view to the south, looking up the Bear Creek Valley. We would be hiking there soon. It was a hazy day, sadly, but that happens sometimes. Supposedly, there was a wildfire hundreds of miles away in San Luis Obispo, down in SoCal, causing this. Nothing for Sierra hikers to worry about, in other words. All we had to do was wait for the wind to blow the smoke away. We didn’t stop long for lunch, however. We had a thousand feet and two miles to hike to reach the creek itself, and then even more miles to hike in order to reach camp. It was time to hustle.
It was almost 3pm by the time we got down the hill to Bear Creek. We met Chris yet again, the young man that I met on my first day on the trail; I had been crossing paths with him ever since. He groaned when he saw us, because they hiked all the way from VVR, and left long before we got on the ferry. Sometimes short cuts turn out to be long ones. Although they did avoid the two thousand foot climb, and the $20 ferry fee, so maybe they came out ahead.
Keith and I were happy now. Eight miles of our twelve mile day were finished. It was late in the afternoon, but the sun set late enough that we had plenty of time to do a bit of fishing. The trail would be following Bear Creek the rest of the way. It was uphill, but not all that steep. We also decided that we deserved a break. I filtered some water for us while Keith got busy catching trout. Chris and his partner hiked onward.
It was hard to get Keith away from the creek, but I told him that it only got better along the way. He decided to keep his rod handy as we hiked onward. Bear Creek was beautiful. There were long, cascading waterslides made of glaciated granite, and there were plenty of “Goldilocks Holes” (as Keith called them) where trout would be lurking in deep pools and eddies, waiting for food to come swirling down from above. Sometimes that tasty bug turned out to be Keith’s hook! Many trout learned to be more wary in the future, as he let them go afterward. We stopped many times, but now Keith didn’t even bother taking off his backpack. It took too long to bother.
We hiked along the creek for a few hours. Today was turning out to be a good day, indeed. We wished that Bob were here with us. He would have enjoyed this section, even though he would have hated the big climb. Bob would also be a lucky man soon, as he would be back home with his wife, sleeping in his own comfy bed. But I didn’t mention that out loud. Both of us missed our wives.
The trail occasionally left the vicinity of the creek, or perhaps the creek veered away from the trail, and we hiked through a grassy pine forest. The shadows of the tree trunks began to get longer, and there was plenty of shade for staying cool. We came upon the Hilgard Branch of Bear Creek, and balanced our way across the logs that spanned its several splits as it entered the main flow. I checked the map, and there was about two miles to go to reach my planned campsite on the West Fork. So we hiked on. It was already 5pm.
A mile or so later, we arrived at the Seven Gables Trail junction, not far from the main Bear Creek Crossing. We still had a mile to go to the dubious campsite I planned to stay at. I asked Keith if he wanted to stop here, where there were plenty of campsites, and Bear Creek itself, so he could do more fishing. I wasn’t sure about fish in the West Fork, either. He agreed, and mentioned that we started late, so stopping early would be fine. We could make up that extra mile tomorrow. Then we headed out, searching for a spot. We were late, so most of the good sites were already taken. Luckily, it was wide and flat in this section of the valley, and we found a place to call home.
Once our tents were up, it was time to filter a couple gallons of water. And do some more fishing, of course. While I manned the filter, Keith got down to business. He said that he caught about thirty trout along one hundred feet of creek! Once again, his home-made fly disintegrated due to the stress of being pulled from the lips of so many fish. That’s when we decided that it was dinnertime.
I brought my stove and ramen noodles over to Keith’s granite slab and we ate dinner together. It was almost 7pm, and the sun was already heading down behind the ridge to the west. The air began to cool, and both of decided to head for our tents and get our night clothes on. We planned to get up early, as usual, and also to make up that extra mile.
Our plan for tomorrow was simple: We had no more food in our bear canisters, except for one breakfast and some snack, so we had no choice but to get our resupply buckets at Muir Trail Ranch. Luckily for Keith, there were a few lakes along the way, which were certain to contain hungry trout. We would also summit Selden Pass, and draw ever-closer to the highest regions of the JMT.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
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