XIII. The Call of Nature
Partway down, my stomach began to hurt badly. I needed to use the bathroom, but there was nowhere suitable nearby. Everything was exposed and rocky, with no good place to dig a cathole. My stomach twisted as I scanned desperately for a workable spot. After a couple of miles, I told Ignition to keep going and that I would catch up. I made it very clear that no matter what, he was not to look back. We were still well above treeline, and there was nowhere to find cover. I scrambled around and finally found what I thought would be the best place to dig. I was wrong. The ground was frozen
solid. I tried using my trowel at first, but it wasn’t enough, so I pulled my ice axe off my pack. I hacked and scraped at the frozen earth again and again as my body protested loudly. Every attempt ended with me hitting solid rock until I finally found a spot that would give. It took longer than I wanted, but I got a cathole dug. I barely made it. Had I not, I would have had a very different problem on my hands. Once that was handled, it was time to catch up with Ignition and Crossword.
XIV. Descent Into The
White
The Palisades Basin is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. On a clear day, I could happily spend hours wandering slowly down through it, past Upper and Lower Palisade Lakes, along the Golden Staircase, with the Palisades dominating the skyline and Palisades Creek roaring down the basin, feeding into the Middle Fork of the Kings River. Fortunately for both me and our mission, I couldn’t see much of it at
all. Snow flurries filled the air, and the surrounding mountains were only faint shapes. The farther I descended, the harder the snow fell. The ground disappeared quickly. Dirt turned to mud, and then mud turned to snow as it piled up fast. I didn’t let it slow me down. I eventually caught up to Ignition, and together we continued our pursuit of Crossword. The fast pace helped keep me warm. Under my rain pants, which were basically thin, flexible plastic, I was wearing very short running shorts. My shoes and socks were soaked, but as long as I kept moving, they stayed warm. I had insulated compression pants in my pack, but wearing them while pushing to catch up would have caused me to overheat. It didn’t take much longer before we reached Crossword. We were relieved to see she was doing well and seemed to be enjoying the snowfall, if not the cold. As a Washington state native, she was comfortable in
snowy conditions and clearly motivated to keep moving toward the hut at the top of Muir Pass. We had told the others that we planned to camp and wait at the midpoint between the two passes, around 8,000 feet, so we could have a fire. After confirming that Crossword was okay, we reached our planned campsite near Palisade Creek. Crossword decided to push on to the hut, which would offer more shelter than tents, being made of stone. It was still early, and we told her we would catch up later. None of us knew a storm was coming, let alone how long it would last. Ignition and I began clearing spots for our tents. As I kicked snow aside to make space, the cold set in quickly. My hands and feet began to freeze. I had gloves, but they were already wet. Once I stopped moving, my body stopped generating heat and adrenaline. I began shivering hard, and setting up my tent took much longer than usual. I had to pause repeatedly, blowing warm air onto my hands
just to be able to use them. Eventually, I got the tent up. I hadn’t planned to sleep, but after changing into warmer clothes and climbing into my bag to warm up, I was out.
XIV. Descent Into The
White
I woke later feeling much warmer and was immediately appreciative to hear the crackle of a fire. I was even happier to see that Greenman had caught up to us. He and Ignition had built a fire near a large rock and were huddled close around it. The snow had eased slightly but was still falling. I gathered firewood, my bear can, and my wet clothes, hoping to dry them out for the next day. Pulling on frozen clothes in the morning would not be fun. As we sat by the fire, Greenman told me about his day and where he thought ChinUp and Cascade might be, since they had left after him. He asked if there was a fire pit in Muir Hut. I told him yes, as far as I knew. He mentioned how incredible it would be to have a fire up there.
Our camp was right next to Palisades Creek which was much calmer now that it was wider and not spilling down over granite rocks. The water was clear and seemingly dark in contrast to the white environment that it cut through. There was a calming energy of peace that I could feel and I managed to cling to that rather than worry about my friends who were still present under my surface thoughts. As the evening wore on, our thoughts kept returning to our tramily, those behind us, Nut Crusher who was getting back on trail to catch us, and Crossword ahead. With how fast and motivated she was, it seemed possible we might not see her again. Eventually the snow stopped, and ChinUp arrived in camp. We were relieved. We asked about Cascade, and he thought
she wasn’t far behind, though he reminded us that she liked to move on her own timing. We sat by the fire, waiting, quietly wondering whether she would make it to our camp or stop somewhere else as night fell. When we ran out of firewood, most of us retreated to our tents, accepting that she might not arrive. We lay down, exhausted, yet none of us could sleep. There is a delicate balance we were learning to hold, between wanting to ensure our tramily’s safety and honoring their chosen pace. Each of us walks our own path. How we move through it is a personal choice. Time apart deepens the appreciation for the moments we share together.
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Cascade made it to camp shortly after we had retreated to our tents. We shouted out in joy and congratulations when we heard her arrive. It was a huge relief to know she was there. There was never any doubt about her ability, only whether she
would choose to push on or not. That night, most of the tramily was back together. The next morning, we woke to a fresh layer of snow that had fallen overnight. It wasn’t snowing where we were, but the surrounding peaks were swallowed by clouds. The whole scene felt peaceful. When I went to retrieve my bear can, I realized I had left my water filter inside it. Once a filter freezes, it’s no longer safe to use, which meant I’d be melting snow or drinking straight from creeks and streams. It became another lesson in acceptance as I packed up and prepared for the climb toward Muir Pass and the stone shelter we planned to stay at.
XVI. A Pocket Full of Sky
Greenman and I headed out after Ignition, who wanted to make sure Crossword was still doing well. I took my time that morning, savoring the pristine feeling of hiking after a fresh snowfall and the calm that I was
cultivating within. The creek we had camped beside was beautiful, and I noticed a patch of blue sky open above me. I felt fully present, held by a deep sense of protection, not just for myself, but for my tramily as well. It was a quiet knowing that everything was okay. To be fair, it always is, but the mind can easily forget that when it’s well practiced in worry. The climb toward Muir Pass is filled with alpine rivers, creeks, streams, lakes, stretches of pocket meadows, and towering granite peaks. Leaving camp, we followed the Middle Fork of the Kings River to Le Conte Canyon. The peaks around us were mostly hidden, though I caught glimpses of cloud soaked mountains with waterfalls spilling down their faces. Above and ahead of me, the sky stayed blue. I smiled and kept moving. Each time I looked back, the clouds seemed to close in behind me.
I caught up to Ignition once early on but didn’t see him again until later. Greenman and I leapfrogged each other during the ascent. I was in an exceptionally good mood. The blue sky continued to hover above and in front of me as I climbed higher toward Muir Pass. We received a message that Nut Crusher had planned to meet us by taking Bishop Pass. I hoped to see her at the junction, but no one was there when I arrived. Near the edge of treeline, I caught up with Greenman again. He was foraging in the woods. I asked if he was okay, and he said he was. I asked if he planned to make it to the hut, and he said yes. I didn’t press further. I was deep in my own inner landscape, and it felt like he was too. Aside from a hiker named Too Cool, whom I had passed the day before, I didn’t see
anyone else out there besides my tramily. As I continued climbing, I noticed again how the clouds gathered behind me. I thought of Greenman, ChinUp, and
Cascade below. I slowed my pace where I could, careful not to let concern turn into worry. They were all strong, capable adults, fully able to make good decisions. The higher I climbed, the deeper the snow became and the colder the air felt. Still, the blue sky stayed open ahead of me.
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One of my favorite places in that area is Helen Lake, beneath a massive mountain called Black Giant, which truly looks like a giant. About fifteen minutes from the hut, everything shifted. The brightness that had accompanied me all day dimmed as the opening in the sky closed. Snow that had been falling around me began falling directly on me, and the wind picked up. My thoughts immediately went to Greenman, ChinUp, and
Cascade. I trusted their ability to reach safety, even as concern lingered. Not long after, I saw the faint outline of Muir Hut emerge through the flurries. It’s an emergency shelter, and the conditions made it clear that this was no longer just a scenic stop, but something much more necessary.
XVII. Muir Hut: The
Crucible
I opened the door to the hut, and the wind flung it wide with dramatic force. I was immediately met by more staring eyes than I expected. Before I could even assess the situation, a chorus of voices shouted, “CLOSE THE DOOR!!!” The yelling startled me more than the number of people inside. I grabbed the door and pulled it shut, doing my best to shake off snow in the doorway rather than track it through the hut. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed three familiar faces: Ignition, Crossword, and Nut Crusher. Ignition and Nut Crusher had arrived the same day I did, while Crossword had come in
the day before and taken a zero with another group. For context, Muir Hut is a sixteen-by-sixteen-foot, hexagonal stone shelter sitting right on top of Muir Pass. When I arrived, there were already twelve other people inside, sitting or lying in their sleeping bags. There was not much bare space to put a sleeping bag. There are benches all around the hut and they had all been taken as well as most of the floor space. I grabbed a spot next to Nut Crusher who had grabbed the last bench spots against the back wall. A group that had been a day ahead of us had decided to zero in the hut after the storm first rolled in. They were too nervous to head out the following day and eventually ran out of water, with at least one person also running low on food. Many had burned through much of their fuel because they were melting snow for both drinking water and cooking. Almost immediately, I felt a clear difference in energy. Our group carried a light,
playful, almost celebratory presence, while the other group felt heavy and strained. Whether that was their baseline or the result of being cooped up in a small stone shelter for over twenty-four hours, the contrast was unmistakable.
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After I settled in and greeted everyone, Ignition suddenly perked up and asked if I was ready to hike a bit more. I told him absolutely not and suggested he look outside. The storm had fully closed in, and visibility was near zero. He peeked through one of the hut’s small windows and quickly agreed it wasn’t a good idea. That realization brought our attention back to the rest of our tramily still out there. Greenman, Cascade, and ChinUp hadn’t arrived yet. The last time I’d seen Greenman was just before leaving treeline, and I hadn’t seen Cascade or ChinUp since that morning. Even so, I trusted the protection that felt present. I trusted that the same force that had guided me safely to the hut
was watching over them as well. Ignition grew restless and talked about heading back out to check on the others. I gently suggested that staying put was the better choice, especially since Greenman hadn’t been far behind me the last time I saw him. Nut Crusher and I both noticed the energy Crossword was directing toward Ignition as he expressed his concern and desire to help. We exchanged a look and left it unspoken. There was something there, a subtle pull, but neither of us fed it. Ignition had a girlfriend planning to visit him in Mammoth, and Crossword had a boyfriend back home. We simply noticed the energy and let it pass, knowing it would never cross a line. Later, Too Cool arrived at the hut, took in the sight of thirteen people packed inside, and decided to keep going. We urged him to stay and even began making room, but the conditions outside were not ideal for travel. It was the kind of weather that
called for shelter and patience. Still, he honored his own choice and headed down the north side of the pass. It was another quiet, painful practice in respecting someone else’s free will.
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It wasn’t long before a frozen, bearded Greenman burst through the door in much the same way I had, only to be met with the same roaring chorus of “CLOSE THE DOOR!!!” He looked just as stunned as I had been by the number of people inside, having expected only a few. Now there were fourteen of us packed into the hut. As Greenman tried to maneuver inside, the protests continued while he kept bumping into something behind him that was attached to his pack. After a bit of awkward wrestling, he finally made it through the doorway along with the mystery object. That’s when we all saw it: roughly twenty pounds of firewood he had gathered on the way up. In that moment, I looked over at the fireplace in
Muir Hut, eyes wide, and realized exactly what Greenman had been doing the last time I saw him. He had been collecting wood for the fire pit I told him existed in the hut. To be fair, there is a fireplace in Muir Hut, but it’s been bricked up. I felt terrible. It had never even crossed my mind that it might not be usable, and a working fireplace would have been priceless that night.
XVIII. Fourteen-ers in Stone
Once Greenman settled in, we asked him about Cascade and ChinUp. He told us that they decided to stop short of the hut and camp at a lower elevation. We later learned it was around seven degrees outside. Fourteen bodies, wet clothes, wet gear, and constant breathing created quite a climate inside the stone shelter. Greenman summed it up perfectly, calling the night a cacophony of breathing, snoring, burps, and farts. With poor ventilation, condensation built up on the ceiling, and throughout the night you could hear
water droplets falling onto sleeping bags. One person tried covering himself with his tent, which only made things worse. His sleeping bag couldn’t breathe, trapping all the moisture inside, and he woke up soaked. It was a long, cold, noisy night, and none of us slept much.
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Before trying to rest, there was a lot of anxiety from the group that had zeroed in the hut. Questions floated through the space. What if we get stuck here? What if it storms again tomorrow? What if we never make it out? Those fears were understandable. Being confined in a small shelter, relying on melting snow for water, watching fuel supplies dwindle, it wears on people. Negative outlooks accumulate over time. They’re rarely intentional. I tried to ease their minds, telling them that when we wake up, the storm would clear and it would be a beautiful day. The contrast between the two groups was palpable. One group
was ready for the adventure to continue, open to what might go right. The other was focused on what might go wrong. One looked for the good in the circumstances, the other braced for the bad. It felt like a gentle but constant tug-of-war between different densities, each trying, in its own way, to bring the other toward its perspective. It was fascinating to witness.
XIX. Morning Release
The next morning was incredible. We all woke early, mostly because no one had slept much. We packed up and prepared to head back out. Fresh snow covered everything, and there was no trail to follow. As the sun rose, a few clouds clung to the tops of distant peaks, but the sky was blue and the snow reflected the light brilliantly. We briefly talked about who would head out first. Ignition put on his pack and glasses and stepped out the door, leading the way. I followed shortly after, gear and glasses on, and just like that, the fun began.
We filtered out slowly at first, as if collectively making sure it was safe, and then soon everyone was outside. The snow was light and fluffy. We played. We walked in heart shapes, dropped onto our backs to make snow angels, and laughed as we frolicked for the first mile or so. Eventually, we made our way to the first stream to collect fresh water and continue on.
XX. Evolution Basin
We were in high spirits, spilling back out into the immaculate, uncontaminated wild. It felt like unadulterated freedom as we entered Evolution Basin, surrounded by untouched wilderness. The fresh snow only heightened the magic. Granite peaks rose from their white blankets, both exquisite and commanding. We laughed, took photos of one
another, ran and played in the snow. It was one of those rare, unforgettable moments where joy, freedom, excitement, and bliss converged so fully that I wished it could last forever. We were completely present. We didn’t hold back. We drank that moment in deeply, with appreciation.
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Eventually, we all gathered and simply stood there, quiet and reverent, taking in Evolution Basin and the path ahead toward Evolution Creek and the lakes beyond. It was a great day to be alive, and we knew it. We were undeniably having a great day.
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Trail magik Continues…
