We got our first glimpse of smoke far across the valley as we climbed higher. Up on a ridge after a morning climb, we followed a side trail to an open viewpoint beyond the trees. Selfie:)
We descended switch back after switchback before reaching the bottom of the valley. Then we turned right-- the opposite direction of my confident, totally-wrong guess. Silver Pass, like most passes, would be somewhere beyond view.
The smoke, while visible, seemed to give the mountains a blue glow-- like a highlighter to a sketch. You could still see the edges of the mountain ridges, the story of their creation. We could hike in this. But the smoke looked worse farther south. Or it was getting worse as time rolled incessantly forward.
On day two we had ran into a northbound hiker we nicknamed Speedy Steve. Speedy Steve had hiked 18 miles a day through eight consecutive smoke-filled days, including atleast three "very bad days" when he couldn't see the surrounding mountains, the sun glowed a haunting orange and ash accumulated overnight. On the way to Purple Lake we ran into three dirty, beat up, tired north-bound hikers with a similar story. They had to spend one night in an emergency hut at Muir Pass to avoid the falling ash.
We paused at Purple Lake to admire the view, repair our injured feet (Bob's right pinky toe was one giant blister) and ponder our options. Duck Pass was our shortest exit route but we had passed it already. McGee Pass Trail at Tully Hole was the next exit five miles down trail. We decided to push on. Purple Lake seemed to capture both the mystic beauty and threatening reality of the wildfire smoke.
We ran into good news a quarter mile down trail: Mike, a very fit, experienced hiker chatted with us for fifteen minutes. He had started twenty miles or so south and said conditions were improving. He had a gps device that gave weather reports and said the upcoming Silver Pass was supposed to be clear for six days. Horray! He also gave us sage advice-- get in front of the big passes. The JMT is basically a long chain of valleys. You hike up to a mountain ridge pass, then down to the next valley, then up the other side to another mountain pass, then repeat. Mike told us to plan our days so we camped at the base of the high pass climbs thus avoiding the high climbs in the hot afternoon sun.
Armed with this positive report and enthusiasm to "get in front of the high passes", we marched confidently forward. Lake Virginia, a large vast lake was the next attraction, but her surrounding mountains impressed me most.
As we rounded a bend and started the 1000ft decent to Tully Hole, we were overjoyed by the never ending chain of mountains engulfing our view. We predicted smartly where Silver Pass must be: a gentle sloping pass among steep passes in the far distance.
We settled in a small, quaint, covered campsite near a fast moving creek and then I jumped in the ice-cold Tully Hole, a large swimming hole. I had to put on full down gear-pants, jacket, hat, gloves all inside my bivy sack, with ultralight, comfort air mattress and 30 degree down quilt to warm back up. I studied the exit trail map and the Silver Pass territory ahead. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? I just wanted to be prepared.
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