"You double counted that one," says Duane pointing to the freeze-bag, oatmeal-raisin breakfasts. "It belongs in the VVR bucket."
We have planned four resupplies: Tuolumne Meadows, Red's Meadow, VVR and the Mt Williamson Motel. Each bucket has the supplies needed to get us to the next resupply. The longest stretch is six-and-a-half days. The shortest is four days. Altogether the hike will take twenty-three days: twenty-one hike days and two zero days. We step off the trail head on September 4th, three weeks from now. We walk out to Whitney Portal on September 26th. And in just two weeks, I leave for the eastern Sierra to start acclimatizing. Things are happening fast.
Our logistics are complicated. Duane has to work. He'll be taking a train to Fresno and a bus to Yosemite. Since I have to acclimatize, my plan is byzantine. I'll take the ESTA from Lancaster to Bishop and stay at the hostel. Next day I'll take the ESTA to Mammoth Lakes and stay at the Motel 6 for two nights. From there I'll take YARTS to Tuolumne Meadows. I'll buy a wilderness permit for a hike to Ten Lakes, but I'll only use it to be street legal at the Backpackers camp. The next day, I'll take YARTS again. This time to White Wolf. I stay there for two nights and try to steal a shower. The last night before the hike, I'll take the YARTS to the Crane Flat Campground. That morning, I'll catch YARTS one more time down to Yosemite Valley. At 10:30, I'll meet Duane in front of the Wilderness Center. We'll pick up our JMT permit. For the last leg we'll catch the 1:30 Glacier Point Tour Bus up to the Mono Meadow Trail Head. From there, our next stop is Mount Whitney. The only hitch is getting to Lancaster.
All told (with my senior discount) that's about $70 for the bus, $20 for campgrounds and $200 in hotels. Acclimatizing is expensive. It just better work.
I double check Duane as he counts his food into the buckets. After a last go through, we label and seal each one. Tomorrow I mail the VVR bucket. It won't be any use to us if it gets there late. My friend Ann is has agreed to drop off the other buckets. She leaves for Tuolumne Meadows next week.
"That's it," says Duane. "I'm jazzed."
"Except for the hike, I guess were done," I say meaning to joke but sounding dire.
He taken aback. "Something wrong?"
"Not really. But... what if there's a snag. What if you twist an ankle or I get sick again?"
"I'm not twisting an ankle and we have plenty of time to acclimatize," he says reassuringly. "Besides, we don't hit Donahue Pass until day five."
"But what if....Shouldn't we make an agreement?"
Duane nods. "What do you have in mind?"
"If one of us has to bail, the other gets to continue."
"OK," he says reflectively, "But we have to talk first. We have to agree."
We shake on it. A load lifts. I don't want to screw up anyone's hike and I sure don't want anyone screwing up mine.
Over dinner, I tell Lilalee the plan. "So if you could drop me off in Lancaster and then pick us up when we're done, that's all we need.
There's a long silence while she stares at her plate. A flush comes up from her neck to her cheeks like a rising fury.
"I know this sounds complicated. I'm sure it will work."
"Are you serious?" she replies, each word rising with intensity. Before I can utter a thing she jumps in with a sharp rebuke. "You are planning to be gone for a MONTH!"
"This shouldn't be a surprise," I reply self-righteously knowing full well it's going to make things worse and not caring.
She pushes out from the table and stands over me. "What about Labor Day weekend? Weren't we supposed to do something?"
"I don't know. Call the Swonks. Siobahn always has something going."
Lilalee glares at me with unmistakable disgust. "You're pathetic." She carries her plate to the sink and on her way out the door says "I'm going for a drive."
I clean up feeling horribly mistreated and not willing to understand the turn of events. A heavy hour passes. I have no stomach for our fights. I put the 2nd movement of Beethoven's 7th on the stereo and play it loud. Under the circumstances it's the most melancholy music I can think of. I can't shake the feeling of injustice. After these many months of planning, after years of yearning, this was the one thing above all others, I held for retirement.
Until this moment I have been blind to the fullness of the divide it has created. Now it seems I've made a catastrophic blunder. Lilalee is my partner, but she has not been a part of my plan. Not that she could have been, but that changes nothing.
It's evening. I pace the house. Our book shelves are lined with signs of her generous nature. There are a dozen photos of our friend's children. They all love her. My favorite is a vacation photo of Lilalee with her arms around our god daughters when they were girls. It make me happy just to see. And on the chest of drawers, which was the first piece of furniture we bought together, there's a framed photo of us when we were young standing under a redwood. I look ridiculous with this stupid uncontrollable smile.
And yet I know that once I am on the trail, I will have no regrets, no ill feeling. How is that possible? What is the measure of selfishness or self-absorption needed to to feel that kind of freedom? Or is it indifference? The very thought is unsettling.
I hear her car in the drive. I go to meet her at the door. To my relief and joy she embraces me.
"I've been thinking," she says. "What if I go with you?"
"On the hike?"
"No stupid. On the way to the hike. Forget all that complicated business with the buses. I'll drive you. We'll get a nice place in Mammoth. Spend a couple days together. Then maybe we can get one of the White Wolf Cabins. I love those. What do you say?"
"There may not be any rooms."
"You know me. I'll find the places. I'll find nice places. We'll have fun."
"It could be expensive."
"Are we going to start up again?" She replies with a playful threat. But it could go either way.
"So you'll drop Duane and me off at the trail head and pick us up at Lone Pine?"
"Whatever you want."
I don't know much, but I know I don't deserve my luck.
The Plan