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Day 63 (Pete)
Out of paper. Writing on envelope back. Commando raid worked well. Ate breakfast at 10 or 11 trail miles. Walked 4 or 5. Ended up 33 some odd miles from where we started. Good position to hit Echo Lake for lunch and meet Uncle Keith and Aunt Jan. Can’t make Sierra City by closing Friday,…
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Day 63
Our meandering route through Indian Meadows is just what we needed – a snowless exploration of hills, marshes, and fields. It’s enough of a respite that we don’t take it too hard when we finally get lost in the snow again. The day gives us some beautiful moments of light and color, and enough of…
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day 62 (Pete)
So, maybe I was being overly optimistic. We began to climb quickly upon waking. It was a mellow 900 ft. ascent. Maybe half way up I began to meditate for the first time in a very long time. I had entertained the notion that the high mountains precluded our inner desire to do so. Part…
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Day 62
At this point we are sick of the snow. Really sick. We keep convincing ourselves that around the bend the trail drops out of the snow forever, only to be sorely disappointed again and again. Our feet look like they’ve been soaking in the bath for two weeks straight. In the morning we get lost,…
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Day 61 (Pete)
If old habits die hard, as the saying goes, then new ones are still lounging pool side sipping Bloody Marys. The snow is gradually abating. We are consistently traveling toward lower elevations. The trail has led us out onto the northern Sierra Crest. Its the opposite end equivalent of those windy desert hills east of…
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Day 61
A scary description in the guidebook almost convinces us to skip one of the prettiest and most unique sections of the trail just before Sonora Pass. To our benefit we risk it and enjoy some incredible views and a great glacade down to the pass. Firmly planted in the adventurous spirit we strike off the…
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Day 60 (Pete)
I’m sitting on a bridge thirty feet above the west fork of the West Walker River. We never thought we would set foot on this thing today let alone have a little light left to put a but on it and write. Well, that’s not all true. The day began optimistically enough. Twenty four miles…
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Day 60
Early in the morning I cheerfully strip down to cross Kerrick Creek. Halfway across the bottom drops out and I’m swimming in icy cold water. Pete follows suit while I howl, shiver, and dress. Our early optimism for the day is challenged by miles of deep sun cups over Dorothy Pass and out of Yosemite…
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Day 59 (Pete)
I had a dream last night. No, rather, it was a premonition. Dyl and I were inside the main hall of a great cathedral. It was very ornate with stained glass, wood carved banisters and a very high ceiling. Thousands of people filled the place. A popish figure stood at the pulpit giving mass. All…
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Day 59
One day nature can wound the soul, the next day heal it. When we give up clinging to our desires for lost packages, less snow, and such things, we gain power. Several 3 to 5 thousand-foot climbs and descents only fuel us further. The granite peaks dropping into mysterious valleys tug our hearts along. I…