A Fortnight in the June Sierras

by Michael Bateman

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Sometime in the beginning of May, 1996, having reached something of an impasse with my first movie deal, and feeling, frankly, a little disgusted with the movie business, and in fact, industrial living as a whole, I decided it might be nice to get away from it all. I was in great shape. I had just run the Los Angeles Marathon back in March and was swimming every day and even began to join my master team's weekly practice of ocean swimming on Sundays from Hermosa Beach pier to Manhattan Beach pier. It just dawned on me, hey what am I doing trying to eke out a living behind a desk any way? I should be in the out of doors testing my mettle.

So I began visiting places like REI and A16, a couple of posh LA mountaineering stores, for advice on where to head and what to bring and I started to assemble my backpacking outfit.

I grew up on the East Coast and the frame of reference I used when planning this trip was a trip I took one summer at the age of fifteen from New Jersey to Vermont on the Appalachian Trail. Elevations ranged from near sea-level to 3,500 feet and I averaged 14 miles per day, and I remember finding it very easy to do 20 miles in a day if I got up early enough. I knew that the mountains would be higher in the Sierras, but I figured the spread between the lowest and the highest would not be more than the 3,500 feet I was used to. From all the people I talked to and what guide books I read, I decided that I'd like to hike the John Muir Trail which runs from Mount Whitney Portal to Yosemite National Park. Armed with my experience from back east, I figured this was doable within the 3 to 4 weeks I had set aside. I secretly held that it might be possible, with some 20+ mile days, to make the 210 mile journey to Yosemite in close to half that time, and then with the lighter pack, I could hike back to Whitney and not worry about hitch hiking back to my car!

I was warned, to some extent, that there would be some snow and to bring some long underwear, just in case, and that crampons would be a good idea. I took everyone's advice for the most part and got ready to depart for the trip.

Then a buddy of mine named Michael Hill gave me a call. He said basically, what are you doing going out there this early? Do you know what it is like back there? Be careful! Jesus Christ, do you have an ice ax? I told him no, no one had mentioned that as a requirement. And he made some other suggestions.

I did get an ice ax. Never mind that I had never used one before. And off I went.

Editor's note: Italics indicate journal entries made during the trip that have been transcribed for easier reading. Regular print was written after the trip was complete.