JoAnn Saccato

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9/24/2020

Reflections From the John Muir Trail 2020: Part VI - Learning Ourselves Through Nature

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In awe at the base of an ancient Rocky Mountain Juniper. Ansel Adams Wilderness, California.
On the sixth day of the journey I came across what I thought was an ancient Cedar tree standing alone in all its splendor with an exceptional view of peaks across the way.

I became enamored with aged, dying and dead trees when in my youth I saw my first leaf skeleton. I was so fascinated with it's structure--a delicate outline of the leaf with a grid of once-hidden bones across its body. Since then, I've always been pulled toward the contorted and demised elders in the forest.

This tree, that I guessed was about 3,000 years old, turned out to be a Rocky Mountain Juniper, the uses, of which, to the indigenous peoples of the Americas, are too numerous to list. But my instant reaction was a recognition of its sacredness.

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9/18/2020

Reflections From the John Muir Trail 2020: Part V - More on Appreciation

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Sunset at Ruby Lake. Ansel Adams Wilderness, California.
Before I settled into camp at Ruby Lake, the night of catastrophizing where I became determined to bring appreciation rather than fearful anxiety to what could have been my last night alive, I sat near the lake and prayed, is this the right spot for me to stay tonight?

The lull of the late afternoon ascended as the sun descended behind the craggy peaks of Ruby Lake. The stillness of water, save the champagne like glistening of sunlight dancing across the small expanse, sedated the day's activities. Birds flitted here and thereto find their last nuggets of seeds and bugs for their evening nourishment. The dragonflies, jokering around in two- and threesomes, swerved in and around me at water's edge, occasionally hovering briefly at eye level, as rainbow glistening wings reflected splashes of sun rays. A chipmunk came next to me, perching on a rock overlooking the lake while munching on a pine cone.

Paying me no never mind, I wondered if it had the same awe I did this time of day? Did it choose this specific spot for the view at sunset? Or was it just a convenient relatively flat place where which to eat dinner?

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9/10/2020

Reflections From the John Muir Trail 2020: Part iV - lost in Bear territory

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I left Iva Bell Hot Springs mid morning with a spring in my step from a nice hot bath to start the day and the knowledge that the trail was an easy downhill for most of the way.

I may be able to push through the eleven miles back to Red's Meadow, I thought, as I oriented toward the northbound section of the Fish Creek trail. That would be a day earlier than planned. I was a week and a half into the trip and had gained my stride.

As I looked at and appreciated the last rock lined hot pool, the thought of loving awareness popped into my mind. That's all life seems to want from us is our loving awareness as it unfolds.

This will be my practice today--bring loving awareness to each moment.


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9/3/2020

Reflections From the John Muir Trail 2020: Part iii - Bear Encounters

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View of cabins at Red's Meadow Resort, a popular resupply stop on the John Muir Trail. Ansel Adams Wilderness, California.
"They really are intimidated by humans," Sally said as we sat around the picnic table at Red's Meadow Resort eating our highly prized Red's burgers. "Just scare them off with loud sounds and act big."

I'd heard this numerous times along the trail. Brown bears--those bears we find in California--aren't interested in humans, but are interested in our food. How many evenings before bed since learning how to backpack three years ago were spent painstakingly going through the ritual of making sure that "everything that goes in or on your body" is safely sealed into a bear-proof canister and stashed some distance from the tent?

So many hours spent fretting about having residual mint fragrance from toothpaste lingering in my mouth or the scent of lotion on my dry cracked hands. Was it enough to be detected? Images of the young camper who awoke to a crunching sound--which turned out to be the sound of his own head being munched by a bear--repeatedly forced their way into my head. I shuddered every time.

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8/27/2020

Reflections from the John Muir Trail 2020: Part II - Appreciation and Gratitude shift fear and anxiety

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Hot spring pool. Iva Bell Hot Springs, Fish Creek Trail. John Muir Wilderness, California.
As I mentioned in the previous blog post, the first few days on the trail I experienced an inordinate amount of fear and anxiety, particularly in the evenings and throughout the night. The fear was so fierce that I wasn't able to enjoy any of my time. I was reeling in a flood of anxiousness and reactivity. My desperation lead to exhaustion night after night.

One night in particular my catastrophizing mind thoroughly convinced me that I was doomed--that this would be my last night alive. (This was before I worked with the Just Five Breaths practice.)  I was certain that I would become the meal of a wild animal!

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8/20/2020

Reflections from the John Muir Trail 2020: Part I - Just Five Breaths

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Purple Lake, Sierra National Forest. John Muir Trail. August 13, 2020.

The first few days on the trail are usually filled with some anxiety and many questions: Did I remember to pack the soap? Is there enough food? What about bear activity? What am I supposed to do if I encounter a bear? Do I look them in the eye? Act big and try to scare them off?  Did I bring too many pairs of socks? And on. I fiddle with equipment and work to remember where to put things that make the most logical and efficient sense.

For some reason this year, my mind was super activated and super scared. This was my first time solo for 14 days and needing to resupply along the route. My legs were also super antsy at night after hiking five or so miles with 35 pounds on my back. My senses, as always when I'm out in wilderness, were on high alert, particularly listening intently for movement in and around camp in the evenings. I try to arrive at my 'home for the night' early enough in daylight hours so my nervous system can settle into the space before dark. It's something I learned with Shyla, my canine companion, many years before.

I also make an effort to not be right next to running water that is loud enough to block my ability to hear movement around me. It's all survival instinct, I know, and I do my best to make myself as comfortable as I can when I solo hike.


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10/23/2019

Treasures from the John Muir Trail (Pt. 2)

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Lembert Dome at Tuolumne Meadows. Yosemite National Park. July, 2018.
I pulled into the familiar bustling village at Tuolomne Meadows. Here, tourists and backpackers of all levels converge to take advantage of the camping, park information, day hikes, store, grill and post office. It's a popular resupply spot for hikers on the John Muir Trail and the Pacific Crest Trail.  I grabbed a fifty-fifty softie ice cream cone and chatted with some hikers at the picnic tables under the tall conifers outside the grill. The day was spectacular--crisp and clear--but a young woman cautioned of the upcoming cold spell due that night that was to last for three days. As I headed out, I verified the expected temperatures with the weather report posted on the message board--lows in the mid to low twenties. Hmmm, last year I was there in July and hadn't really thought about the potential difference in the season.

After I picked up my back country permit, I took a leisurely walk around the flat meadows. I witnessed a large hawk on the ground near the creek bed tearing at the flesh of a small critter. I'm always conflicted when I see a feast --I'm sad for the critter but happy for those that get the meal. It's always a good reminder of the interconnectedness of everything.

I perused the store for any last minute items I could have forgotten or not known were even in existence, as is my wont, and headed up to the backpacker's campground. I loved this campground, as right next to it was the amphitheater where nightly ranger led programs around a big fire pit came to life. I was thoroughly impressed with last year's programs--I didn't recall being as fascinated when I was young, and certainly hadn't noticed that the rangers were deep ecologists. Had they changed or had I? Or both?

I'm appreciative of the fact that backpackers can camp the night before their wilderness permit starts so we can get a fresh start on our journey. It's also a great opportunity to make sure we have all the equipment we need and to test whether it's in good working order. Being in the back country is not the best time to discover that your stove or water purifier isn't working properly.

I pitched my tent and stashed unneeded supplies and equipment in the car. At least I thought they were unneeded for the night. I hadn't prepared for super cold weather--my gear was rated for three seasons--so I rifled through the car and found a bulky pair of wool gloves/mittens and grabbed my jammies I used at the Airbnb the night before. They were way too heavy to take with me on the hike--my pack was weighing in at about 36 pounds--but I'd at least have extra warmth and comfort for the first night.

After the engaging and entertaining campfire program that included poetry and song, I tucked myself in for the night. Clothed only in my base layers with a scarf  around my neck, I climbed into my 30+ year old down sleeping bag. The bag was rated to 30 degrees, so I felt pretty confident I would stay warm through the night. Rarely do I have to 'mummy it up.' In fact I mostly use it as a blanket and sometimes in the wee hours of the morning I'll need to zip it up.


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8/11/2018

Wilderness Travel in Yosemite, 2018: Of Fires and Thunderstorms (Part I)

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Vogelsang Peak, Yosemite National Park, California.
"Uphill, I think," I responded to the tightly wound ranger as we searched for an alternate, less smoke-laden trail than the initial trip I planned. It was July 22, 2018, almost ten days after the Ferguson Fire ignited adjacent to Yosemite National Park.

I received my wilderness permit some three months before in early April. I'm sure it took at least a month for me to learn how to navigate the online maps enough to decide a reasonable route for my first seven day solo backpacking trip. I spent months of planning, gathering equipment and supplies, and training my body to carry 30+ pounds on my back for this trip--I wasn't going to let a regional fire stop me from this exciting journey on the most renowned segment of the John Muir Trail (JMT) from the valley floor of Yosemite to Tuolomne Meadows.


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