John Muir Trail Day 16: Revenge of the Resupply Day and the Torturously Stunning Selden Pass
Taking those first steps to begin hiking after a resupply day on the John Muir Trail always seems to be the hardest. Leaving Muir Trail Ranch was the worst yet and it should not have been.
Although we had stopped at MTR to grab our second resupply bucket, we had opted to not take advantage of everything this stop had to offer. This meant it was just another night sleeping in our tent as opposed to a real bed. I took a bath in our resupply bucket instead of taking a hot shower via an actual bathroom with that dreamy invention called indoor plumbing. I washed my dusty, sweaty clothes in the resupply bucket instead of utilizing a washer and dryer. Dinner consisted of our normal fare of rehydrated whatever that was instead of a hot meal.
So, what was the problem?
As my husband, Cliff and I trudged up the steep, roughed-up horse-and-pack mule trail, I counted back to our first resupply stop eight days before. We had been hiking, sleeping badly on the ground, eating whatever we had carried on our backs, and bathed ourselves and washed our clothes in the water we could pull out of any nearby streams or rivers the trail came near. Usually those solid days of thru-hiking life would be broken up with well-deserved breaks but we had not taken one at MTR.
At the time we planned our JMT thru-hike, we did not know how badly we would need a break. We were only focused on how expensive it would be to take advantage of the services MTR offered and so we opted out. Thinking back, I would have made the same decision but would have been kinder to myself when the struggle became oh, so real.
Our goal for Day 16 on the JMT was to get up and over Selden Pass and down the other side, ideally to camp in the Upper Bear Creek Meadows area.
The climb up to Selden Pass felt like a torturous slog for 7.2 miles when everything in my brain said it should not have been. Over the past 15 days, we had climbed up and over eight major summits and passes (New Army, Guyot, Mount Whitney, Forester, Glen, Pinchot, Mather, and Muir) much higher in elevation than Selden Pass, and yet this 10,900-foot peak (depending on which reference material you want to go with) was the one that threatened to defeat me.
In hindsight, this was the first clear example, in a day full of lessons, of a thru-hiking body and mind begging for rest. But what to do when we didn’t factor one into the plans for many more days to come?
As we made our way up the first major incline in the elevation profile of this particular pass, I felt the calories from breakfast kick in enough to care about and enjoy the views. Switchback after switchback carried us up for over four miles until the trail seemed to level off in the Sallie Keyes Lakes area. I took a deep breath and mentally patted myself on the back at that job well done, until I realized that this was the equivalent of a false summit and we still had at least three miles to go until we finally reached Selden Pass.
It was in these last three miles that my right foot decided to make life exponentially harder. The pain first started in my epically flat arch. A few minutes later the pain left my arch and moved into the ball of my foot, concentrating on the metatarsal area of my second and third toes. It stuck around there for a mile before moving into my ankle and then back to my arch. The semi-intense, roving pain traveled around as I fell quiet, mentally begging the trail gods to please quit fucking around and just let us get to the pass already.
Yep, this was now Type 3 Fun and I was spelunking into a deep pain cave.
At one point, I stopped suddenly to lean heavily on my trekking poles, clogging up the trail to leave my husband glancing around me for the mysterious reason as to why. I had not said anything to him, hoping to just tough it out and not wanting to be that person with the issues even though, spoiler alert, every hiker deals with some kind of physical pain on the trail. This was my first experience, though, and I was not handling it well.
I continued to lean on my poles until I was bent over double staring at the ground, attempting to gather whatever mental toughness I had left and demanded, out loud, in the clearest possible way, “Where the fucking fuck is this pass?”
I angrily pushed off my trekking poles, hating that this was where I was with my mental and physical state but also illogically unwilling to stop for a longer recovery break.
We hiked slowly on, as I attempted to figure out how to place my foot on each rock I encountered to avoid the incoming pain. I looked around, unable to appreciate the beauty of the last half mile of the trail leading up to Selden Pass and finally turned my head to miserably mumble to my husband, “I need to take a break.”
When he asked what was going on, tears threatened (another sign that a longer break was needed) when I said, “My foot is hurting really badly.”
I refused to consider what that meant but knew that whatever this pain was, it was vastly different from general soreness at the end of a full day of hiking.
I led us towards a cold water creek I had been keeping tabs on for the past hour and finally made my way to it, giving in to the prolonged mid-day break that was now a necessity. Okay then, I thought, if we have to do a full-on packs-off break, then make it count.
I took my pack completely off and asked Cliff for the Ten Essentials Kit. He lurched into action to dig it out of his pack as I wrangled out of the depths of my own a caffeinated energy gel flask, electrolyte tabs, bars, nuts, and a full bottle of water making it my job for the next 30 minutes to do everything I could to rally.
Cliff handed me the Ten Essentials Kit and asked for a run down of how I was feeling and what was wrong. I told him my foot had a weird wandering intense pain. “The something-is-broken kind of pain…but it wanders around,” I tried to explain. I shook my head silently wondering how that could be as I wrestled my shoes and socks off both feet and plunged them into the shockingly cold creek. I gasped out loud at the near-freezing water but believed, from past experience, in the quick healing properties of cold soaking beaten-up and worn-out body parts.
I grabbed the waiting Ten Essentials Kit and pulled out three ibuprofen and downed them. Leukotape came next for a full reset of tape on my feet from my attempts to soothe the skin that threatened to turn irritated patches into blisters. I knocked all the dirt and rough sand out of my socks and shoes, then set about to single-mindedly eat as much as I could stomach.
As I sat waiting for my feet to go numb and to choke down as many calories as I could stand, I took in the scenery around me thinking what a shame it was that a large chunk of the day was spent with me staring at the ground, just enduring. I vowed to do better for myself by paying better attention when my body and mind were sending out warning signs as opposed to just ignoring them. Toughing it out seemed to just make everything worse because of course it did. They’re called warning signs for a reason, dummy. I shook my head in exasperation and reminded myself again that I had never done anything like this before and, for fuck’s sake, be gentle with yourself in the process of learning as you go.
This last thought made me chuckle out loud and I swear this scared my husband more than anything else on this hike. I turned to him and said, with more energy than I had since waking up that morning, “I think I’m ready to head out.”
We packed up and, although the going was slower, my foot felt functional again. I wasn’t just enduring, I was engaged again, just in time for the summit of Selden Pass and the unmatched beauty of the view it presented.
Of all the big, beautiful scenes we were gifted on the John Muir Trail, Selden Pass was the most glorious of all. Stunning beyond words, I was absolutely giddy with joy that the trail dropped us straight into this world-class landscape.
Feeling much better, my foot granted me a reprieve and we were able to pick up the pace from the pass all the way to the area of Rose Marie Meadow. I felt myself being absolutely done for the day and we called it just in time to find another campsite that was added to our all time favorite place to pitch a tent list…in spite of that Anus graffiti.
But hey, I guess our campsites of choice can’t all be perfect…
Stats for the Hiker Nerds (Like You and I)
Day 16- September 1, 2024
Muir Trail Ranch over Selden Pass to Rose Marie Meadow
Mountain Pass/Summit: Selden Pass Elevation 10,913′
Elevation Gain: 3,332’
Elevation Loss: 1,075’
Mileage: 10-ish
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