Word: trailing
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...trail I was on, the John Muir Trail, is a killer. It contains more high passes than any other established trail in the continental U.S. At times it seems nothing more than up and down and up again. Twelve-thousand-foot passes, 13,00-foot passes and finally, at the end, Trail Crest and Mt. Whitney at 14,000-plus feet. Only after that summit are there ten easy miles which lead down and out, back to the showers, the cooked food and the bed I looked forward to on the 25th...
Even at that point it was hard not to stop, give up and wait for Johnnie and the others. The trail, with 10 miles to go beyond the pass and the pass not even in sight, looked hopelessly endless...I started to wonder about hypothermia (when your body can no longer generate enough heat to maintain body temperature; as heat drains, so does strength and eventually consciousness.) Every few steps I would run through the symptoms and tell myself that, so far, I was fine. My mind's ability to stifle fear and panic came into play...
...expected the other side to be easy. I also expected sun. Somewhere along the line I had been told that it was always sunny, a veritable desert, in the Owens Valley, just the other side of Trail Crest. But expectations are a mistake, especially when they are unreasonable and almost hallucinogenic. At the sign that pointed the summit direction, different and farther than the pass itself, there was still more uphill while at the apex between uphill and downhill there was no sun. Nor was there any sign of Adrian in front or Johnnie behind...
...could either hike the two miles to the Mt. Whitney summit where there was an emergency hut with no door or I could continue towards the end of the trail at Whitney Portal. I continued...
...WENT ON forever. Until I saw two people who I'd never seen before, three or so turns in the trail below. The turns were three hard "switchbacks," like the five or so immediately before them. The trail was filled with ice-water and slush that reached mid-calf. It took at least five minutes to reach the hikers. During those five minutes fear and worry vanished. People meant help. They would know how much farther to the end, to Whitney Portal, they would be able to put the wool shirt on me and get out wool socks...