The mountains appeared like sand dunes in the soft early light. We drank our coffee, packed up our gear and set off up the hill toward Pinchot Pass.
Not a mile up the trail, we encountered another sensational High Sierra lake, Lake Marjorie, and the peaceful reflections off the lake's surface. Mountains of white and red and grey and black surrounded us-- all surfaces seemingly from another planet, but welcoming us this morning on Earth.
Jeff and Steve and a lady named Tara joined us at the picturesque summit of Pinchot Pass. We remained there for a complete hour, enjoying stories of hiking triumph and Jeff's difficult but rewarding experiences as a search and rescue captain.
Reluctant to leave the 12,000 foot pass, but begged forward by the slowly descending trail, we hiked on. The wonderful landscape in the background, with layers of blues, and browns and whites, appeared like an Ansel Adams masterpiece, and the trail a magical doorway to its frame.
The scenic upper valley continued for miles, thrilling us with each step. We entered the cool forest and rested a while, filled up water, and chatted with Jeff, Steve and Tara. Then continued down to the lake and the lower valley.
The clear skies remained long into the day, and we were rewarded with views backwards from where we had come. The colors of this region painted a pretty picture from every angle. The moon, high and in the center of this shot, could be seen well past noon.
But we didn't make it to Rae Lakes. We stopped early instead at an enclosed, dense forest campsite near Baxter Creek, four miles north of Rae. Bob's sleep system was proving insufficient for the now high-20s/low-30s early fall Sierra nights-- his perspiration was soaking his sleeping bag if he closed his bivy, and the cool air chilled his bones if he left his bivy open. This lower forest provided both warmth and dryness, or at least helped. The view down the valley, seen from a clearing before the camp, was the last open view of the evening.
I took an hour nap in the sun-- a blissful, rejuvenating nap which surely ranks up there with my best naps I've ever taken. After waking up, we heated up tea and dinner. Jeff, Scott and Tara passed us while I was napping. Alex and Kathleen, a friendly couple from Ontario, Canada, passed us as well. They had met a mule train yesterday and were offered two cold beers each as a friendly gesture. Kathleen, passing on the friendly gesture, offered Bob and me her second beer, which we accepted and drank immediately. Coors never tasted so good! This long, still afternoon had been just what the doctor ordered for me.
Not a mile up the trail, we encountered another sensational High Sierra lake, Lake Marjorie, and the peaceful reflections off the lake's surface. Mountains of white and red and grey and black surrounded us-- all surfaces seemingly from another planet, but welcoming us this morning on Earth.
Jeff and Steve and a lady named Tara joined us at the picturesque summit of Pinchot Pass. We remained there for a complete hour, enjoying stories of hiking triumph and Jeff's difficult but rewarding experiences as a search and rescue captain.
Reluctant to leave the 12,000 foot pass, but begged forward by the slowly descending trail, we hiked on. The wonderful landscape in the background, with layers of blues, and browns and whites, appeared like an Ansel Adams masterpiece, and the trail a magical doorway to its frame.
The scenic upper valley continued for miles, thrilling us with each step. We entered the cool forest and rested a while, filled up water, and chatted with Jeff, Steve and Tara. Then continued down to the lake and the lower valley.
The clear skies remained long into the day, and we were rewarded with views backwards from where we had come. The colors of this region painted a pretty picture from every angle. The moon, high and in the center of this shot, could be seen well past noon.
We crossed a famous long, wobbly suspension bridge at the bottom of the valley, then paused to consider our options. We felt tired, having pushed hard the last few days, but had six more miles to hike to get to our intended destination, Rae Lakes. Known for its exceptional beauty, Rae Lakes was the perfect place to spend a "zero mile" rest day tomorrow.
But we didn't make it to Rae Lakes. We stopped early instead at an enclosed, dense forest campsite near Baxter Creek, four miles north of Rae. Bob's sleep system was proving insufficient for the now high-20s/low-30s early fall Sierra nights-- his perspiration was soaking his sleeping bag if he closed his bivy, and the cool air chilled his bones if he left his bivy open. This lower forest provided both warmth and dryness, or at least helped. The view down the valley, seen from a clearing before the camp, was the last open view of the evening.
I took an hour nap in the sun-- a blissful, rejuvenating nap which surely ranks up there with my best naps I've ever taken. After waking up, we heated up tea and dinner. Jeff, Scott and Tara passed us while I was napping. Alex and Kathleen, a friendly couple from Ontario, Canada, passed us as well. They had met a mule train yesterday and were offered two cold beers each as a friendly gesture. Kathleen, passing on the friendly gesture, offered Bob and me her second beer, which we accepted and drank immediately. Coors never tasted so good! This long, still afternoon had been just what the doctor ordered for me.
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