High Sierra Loop Trail #1, Getting Ready

This post is way overdue. A month ago Marion and I had the adventure of our lives, spending 5 days hiking in Yosemite's High Sierra back country. I've put off trying to write an account of our journey because it's such a daunting task to try and capture our experience in words when I know that no words will do it justice.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, the following slide-show is worth 107,000. These pictures don't even come close to illustrating the beauty that we saw, but should give you a glimpse of what our trip was like. Special thanks to our hiking-mates, Jim and Sherrill Hanley, Sharon Wilcox, and the Tozer family from Great Britain for allowing me to 'steal' some of their photos for my slide show.



Our trip started on the fifth of July when I checked the website for Yosemite National Park. Marion and I have always loved visiting Yosemite, but have limited our trips there to Yosemite Valley, which we think is the most beautiful place on Earth. Marion's father had told us stories about a series of camps in the high country above the Valley and my research discovered that there were Ranger-led backpack trips between the camps every summer, but that getting reservations for these trips is a difficult proposition. On this early July morning I checked the website and saw that there were some openings for a 5 day guided hike leaving July 30th. I told Marion what I'd found and asked her if she was game to go. She said that if we could get my parents to come and watch the boys for the week we would be gone, she would go. Much to her surprise, a quick call to my parents resulted in a quick answer of YES from them. I called the reservation number and booked our spots on the trip! We were committed.

Now, the reality set in. We had less than a month to prepare and train for 5 days of strenuous hiking at altitude, carrying packs (which neither of us had done before.) I went out and bought packs for us the next day and we both loaded our packs with about 20 pounds of stuff. Our schedules don't allow us the convenience of being free to work-out at the same times, so we both started training seperately. It must have been quite a sight to see Marion and I hiking around Ventura, in our local hillside parks and on our streets, outfitted in our bright orange packs and sporting our new trekking poles. Each weekend we got away for longer hikes in the mountains, sometimes inviting friends to accompany us and carrying their gear for them.

2 days before we were leaving for our trip a fire broke out on the west side of Yosemite, in the Mariposa area. While we confirmed that the fire had not closed the park and would not block our planned route into the park, it made us re-think our plans. We had booked a room in Fresno for Monday night so that we could get up to Tuolumne Meadows early on Tuesday to acclimate to the altitude for a day before we left for our hike on Wednesday. Looking at the map of roads into Yosemite, we realized that it was exactly the same distance (on much easier roads) to enter the park from the east side, which means that we would spend Monday night in Mammoth Lakes, not Fresno. Bonus! Also, Mammoth is 8,500 feet elevation which would give us another half day at altitude to acclimate.

Monday afternoon we kissed our boys goodbye and left them in my parent's care as we set off for Mammoth. We got into town at dinner time and went to an old favorite dining spot of ours, Berger's Burgers. Unfortunately, the Berger family sold the restaurant a few years ago, so it's now just Burgers, but much of the menu was the same and it was a servicable meal.

From Yosemite High Sierra Camps 5 day hike

The next morning, after breakfast at The Stove (which had also changed hands), we were ready to drive off to Tuolumne. Well, almost ready. Marion had been suffering for a week with a mild cold that had got into her ears. At the last minute we decided to visit Mammoth's emergency room to have it looked at. Good thing, too. Turns out Marion had a bit of Strep, so after picking up a course of antibiotics, we were on the road at last.

From Yosemite High Sierra Camps 5 day hike

We got to Tuolumne in just one hour and decide to take a short hike in the meadows to start getting used to the high altitude. We visited Soda Springs and the visitor center and hiked around for a few hours before driving over to The Grill for a bite of lunch. For those of you who have never been to Tuolumne Meadows, The Grill isn't much as far as cuisine or atmosphere, but it's the only game in town and it's always crowded. It's the place to see and be seen, and while in line we talked with two different groups of hikers who had just come off the John Muir Trail, having hiked hundreds of miles over the previous weeks. We were much impressed, and they told us that we would be fine in the back country as long as we had a head net to protect us from the savage swarms of mosquitos they had encountered. Heeding their warning, we set off to buy some for ourselves, but the few stores in Tuolumne were sold-out so we made the half-hour drive down to Lee Vining to buy some. 2 head nets: $6. Driving to and from Lee Vining on Tioga Pass Road: $12 in fuel. Oh well, better safe than sorry.

From Yosemite High Sierra Camps 5 day hike

We checked into our tent cabin for the night and repacked our back packs until we went off for dinner at the lodge. We dined with a couple, both of whom have worked summers in the park for close to 40 years. The man was a rescue ranger, whose job was to ride his horse into the back country to rescue and pack-out hikers who become sick or injured and are unable to get out on their own. Sobering . . . . After dinner we attended a campfire where we met the group that would accompany us on our trip, and we met Lisa Murphy, the ranger who would lead us. She told us what to expect on our trip and urged us to try to keep our packs down to 20 pounds or less. We went back to our tent and repacked our packs once again, searching for items that could be removed.

High Sierra Loop Trail #2, Tuolumne to Vogelsang

After a very chilly night in our canvas tent, Wednesday morning dawned bright and sunny. After a breakfast of oatmeal and fruit at the lodge we brought our gear to the meeting place and did some stretches to prepare for the trail. Ranger Lisa had warned us that proper hydration was important to avoid the effects of altitude sickness, so we had caffiene-free tea with breakfast and were already drinking plenty of water to top-off our tanks before we began. Marion stepped on a scale wearing her pack and decided to remove a few more items of clothing from it. As our car was parked half a mile away, she put the clothing in a bag, wrote her name on it and stashed it in a bear-box at the lodge. Lisa came out with our bag lunches, we each collected one and packed it away, and we were off!
Our first day was a 8.5 mile hike to Vogelsang camp. We would be climbing from 8,500 elevation to 10,300, so we knew it would be a day of steady climbing. Our hike was taking us up Rafferty creek, so much of our hike was along a beautiful water course, sometimes spreading out into peaceful streams and other times gathering together to rush over cascades. Lisa stopped the group at a bridge less than a mile into the trip and had us remove our packs for introductions. We each shared our fears and hopes for the trip with the others. Lisa also had us promise not to discuss our jobs with the group, urging us to leave our work-a-day lives behind and immerse ourselves in the here-and-now of our experience instead.

Lisa also stopped frequently during the day to point out to us details about the wilderness we hiked through. That first day she showed us how to identify the Lodgepole pine (2 needle bunches, which form a "L" for Lodgepole), and pointed out how some trees twisted as they grew while on others you could see the grain of wood grew straight. I feel sorry for those hikers not lucky enough to have a ranger lead their group; I might have walked through the meadows of wildflowers and enjoyed their beauty, but Lisa identified the different flowers that we saw and explained interesting facts about them that I would have never known. Not only did she make us "stop and smell the roses", sometimes she made us taste them, too. She would pinch off some wild mountain onion and let us enjoy the wild chive flavor, or taste the citrus-y taste of a certain kind of pine tree. She was always willing to answer any question from the group, sometimes consulting a field guide to identify a particular flower or bird seen along the trail.

Lunch was usually spent at a spot with water access where we could remove our boots to cool our feet, and where we could pump water through a filter to refill our hydration packs. We would stop for an hour to relax, enjoy our sack lunch, and then Lisa would give an interpretive lesson. That first day our lesson was on why those darn Lodgepole pines grew twisty some times. She also talked a little about the lichen we saw on the shaded rocks at our lunch spot.

After lunch we hike out of the trees into a long narrow meadow. This was Tuolumne Pass, and Lisa explained that a pass isn't always on the top of some steep ridge, but is defined as the dividing point between two watersheds. In this case she pointed out a small pond that we passed in the meadow as being the place where water drains off to the Tuolumne River on one side and to the Merced River on the other. Up ahead on the trail we could see Mounts Vogelsang and Fletcher getting nearer as we hike towards them, our destination for that first day. These high-country meadows were encountered many times along our trip, and each one was more beautiful than the one before. Many of them looked like they were golf courses designed by Arnold Palmer, complete with water features and sand traps set against the back drop of the rugged granite mountains hemming them in on each side. They never failed to take my breath away when we came upon a new meadow, and we never grew tired of hiking across them in the deep ruts that previous hikers had worn into the rich peat.

The last mile that first day had us hiking steep switchbacks up out of the meadow to Vogelsang camp at the base of Fletcher. That first day we were still getting used to the altitude, and we felt every bit of it as we hiked above 10,000 feet to the highest point on our trail. On reaching camp we enjoyed some luke-warm lemonade that tasted like sweet, sweet nectar after about 7 hours on the trail. We got our tent assignments at the camp office and then dropped off our packs and changed out of our hiking shoes into some Crocs. We headed down to the creek that runs beside our camp to cool our swelling and sweating feet. Lisa had offered to take anyone who was interested on a little side-trip to see a nearby lake, but Marion and I opted for an hour-long nap in our tent instead.

A little about our accomodations. This is "glam-packing". Every night we stayed at one of these semi-permanent high sierra camps, equipped with drinkable water spouts where you could safely fill your hydration packs, clean and private toilet facilities, hot meals served at your table every morning and evening, and sturdy canvas-sided tents on a foundation. The tents had actual beds with a mattress, and were covered with 2 or 3 army-surplus woolen blankets as well as another comforter on top. For us lucky back-packers who get to stay here, that means we did not need to carry a sleeping bag, bed roll, camp stove and fuel, or food. We did need to carry a sleep sack, basically a cotton sheet sewn into a sleeping bag shape that you would sleep within to protect your skin from those scratchy woolen blankets, and to protect those blankets from the stink and sweat of you. Additionally, the tents had a small wood burning stove inside, and a small supply of the most expensive fire wood you will ever burn. All of the supplies for these camps are packed up daily by mules from civilization at a cost of about $3 per pound. Normally, the tents have 4 beds and you can expect to be sharing your sleeping space with strangers, but Marion and I lucked out that first night and got the honeymoon suite, a cabin with only 2 beds. We were way too tired to take advantage of our situation.

At dinner that first night our whole group sat together. There was Sherrill and Jim Hanley from the Sacramento area. The most fashionable members of our group, they somehow managed to wear coordinated collared shirts throughout most of the trip. Sharon Wilcox was travelling alone on this trip, but not as alone as she could have been; The previous summer she hiked alone on an unguided trip between the high sierra camps, and she was enjoying this trip as part of a group. Lastly, there were the Tozer's from Great Britain. Graeme and Jane had flown over from England with their 11-year-old daughter, Vicki, only a few days before our trip began and were still dealing with jet-lag in addition to the altitude and exertion. Counting Marion and me, that made our group only 8. Ranger Lisa had never led a group of less than a dozen and said that 14 or 15 was not uncommon, so we were lucky to be in a group where we would get to know each other so well.

Dinner that night was halibut topped with bleu cheese and fresh dill, served with a rice pilaf, steamed squash and "Kev's Kornbread". Fully half of our group, the Tozers and Sherrill, were vegetarians, but each of the camps did a very nice job of accomodating them. While I was enjoying the cornbread I bit into a hard, oddly shaped object inside of it. Reaching into my mouth I pulled out a piece of someone's dental work, a gold crown! Ewwww! Quickly taking inventory of my own mouth with my tongue and then with a finger, I didn't feel anything missing in there. I got a sick feeling as I realized that this crown had spent years in someone's mouth and now it had been in mine for a while. I brought the crown to the Tom, the camp manager and asked him if anyone was missing some dental work. How about Kev? No, he said, Kev wasn't even here. He had hiked down to Tuolumne that afternoon. Maybe for some emergency dental work, I wondered? Knowing that whoever had lost the crown would be grateful to get it back I left it with Tom, who commented that if nothing else the gold was certainly worth some money.

That evening Lisa led a fireless campfire for all of those staying at Vogelsang. At over 10,000 feet, we were above the tree line and not allowed to have a campfire, but Lisa invited all of those staying at the camp to meet on an open slab of granite at 9pm for an astronomy presentation. As we lay on our backs looking up at the night sky she used a small argon laser to trace out the constellations for us, telling us stories and legends about the constellations we could see. If you think you've seen a wonderful sky before, try seeing it on a crystal-clear night at 10,000 feet elevation with no lights within 10 miles of you. That night will live with me for a long time.

After dinner Marion and I retired to our tent for the night. We started up our wood burning stove within minutes, and then I loaded a second piece of wood into it before damping it down for the evening, hoping it would warm us all night. Boy, did it ever! Within 15 minutes it got up to 90 degrees inside our tent and Marion and I were stripping off blankets and clothes and opening the door to our cabin to let in some cool air. The fire did last past 4 the next morning and we slept a very comfortable night our first night on our adventure.

Continued in High Sierra Loop Trail #3, Vogelsang to Merced Lake

High Sierra Loop Trail #3, Vogelsang to Merced Lake

We woke Thursday morning to aches and pains. I had brought plenty of Ibuprofen (not willing to give up that weight in my pack!) and Marion and I were eating it like candy.

Breakfast is at 7:30 each morning, but half an hour before each meal they ring the dinner bell to announce "Hot Drinks!" This is an informal social hour where all of the hikers at the camp help themselves to coffee, or more likely, non-caffiene tea, and stood around talking with each other while we waited for them to open the doors to the dining tent for our meal. I grew quite accustomed to the apple cinnamon tea that was available at each camp.

Marion and I were long awake at the 7am bell and had rolled up our sleep sack and repacked it into our packs. At breakfast that morning we sat with Sharon at a table with some people not from our group. We shared stories of our first day on the trail and laughed as we explained that we were not allowed to discuss our occupations with them in the presence of members of our group. The older couple across from us asked Marion and Sharon if they were sisters, they looked so much alike. They both looked at each other and laughed and said, yes, indeed they were sisters. It turns out that Sharon, like Marion, is an only child and they were both happy to have a sister at long last.

After breakfast, before donning our packs again for the hike to the next camp we had one last bit of business to take care of. It seems that it is tradition on these guided hikes to "sing for our supper", and we were expected to compose a short song and serenade the camp workers while they enjoyed their breakfast. Jane came up with a military marching chant that started, "I don't know but I've been told. Vogelsang staff's as good as gold." After our performance we settled our packs on our hips and set off for Merced Lake camp, 12 miles away and over 3,000 feet lower.















We set off down Fletcher Creek, walking along a beautiful tree-covered trail with the creek flowing beside us, rushing down a cascade every quarter mile or so. Today's topic was wild flowers, and Lisa would stop often to point out the many varieties of flowers blooming on our path. We learned to identify among the 17 varieties of Lupin in Yosemite by noting the 5 petaled palmar leaves they all share. Early August is the middle of Spring for the high country, and the wild flowers were in full bloom where ever we went. Our trail would wander away from the water for a time and then come back to meet it again at some dramatic waterfall cascade. We stopped at just such a spot for lunch.

After lunch we hiked a few more miles like this on a gentle downhill slope when Lisa stopped us for a short side trek. We dropped our packs and walked a quarter mile up the rocks to a wonderful overlook, high above an expansive meadow that stretched for a few miles ahead of us. What a pleasure it was to have a guide with us to make sure that we don't miss these wonderful views only a few steps off the main trail. Knowing what was just ahead of us, we loaded on our packs and hiked off into the meadow for a few miles of flat trail.

At the other end of the meadow we came out to a dramatic drop-off where Fletcher Creek went rushing down sheer granite walls to Merced Lake, still 1,500 feet below. We stopped on this exposed cliff for a snack while Lisa taught us the current and previous theories on Yosemite's geologic history. Glaciers, volcanoes, earthquakes and subduction zones all had their part to play in Yosemite's formation.

From this point we only had a few miles to go, but almost half our elevation to lose. Walking downhill with a heavy pack is no picnic, and for Marion it was almost her undoing. The trail here is called the Stairway to Hell (or the Stairway From Hell, depending on which way you are travelling.) The trail was built by making a trench with large granite slabs on each side, filled with cobbles that were then to be covered with dirt. The problem is that there is not much dirt or soil to be had in this part of Yosemite, and that dirt which was filled in there washed quickly away on those steep slopes from the frequent mountain thunder storms. What is left is an uneven steep pathway of odd-shaped cobbles, each of which struggles to turn your ankle and pitch you and your pack over the side with each step. Lengthening your trekking poles and placing them before you to take some of the weight of each step helps, but Marion was really suffering. Hiking, whether uphill or downhill, is about finding your rhythm, and it's hard to alter your pace to accomodate your hiking partners. The best I could do for Marion those last few miles was to hike ahead of her until I came to a switchback and then wait for her to catch up. At the end, Lisa told Marion that as a last resort she could drop her pack on the trail and hike down without it, and Lisa would go back up for it after everyone had reached camp. There's no danger of someone stealing your pack or gear on the trail; The last thing someone wants to do is pick up some more weight to carry themselves.

At last we reached camp (with Marion's pack still on her back) and indulged in some more lukewarm lemonade. Merced Lake camp is the largest and most popular of the high sierra camps, being the only camp reachable from Yosemite Valley, some 13.5 miles away. This day the camp was full of a family reunion group, some 30 or more people who had ridden mules that morning from Curry Village to within 5 miles of Merced Lake. It was a short, easy walk for them to carry their gear the rest of the way to camp where they were staying for a week. Also at camp that day was a 7 day guided hike group that was heading the opposite direction from ours.

Lisa asked us to meet at 5pm for a special treat, so that left us an hour or so to get settled in. Merced Lake camp has hot showers, flush toilets, and a laundry sink, all of which we made use of. At 5, Lisa led us to a pretty spot along the river where she prepared some of her famous Irish lemonade and shared some of her personal stash of chocolate with us. We enjoyed a very happy hour together.

That night, July 31st, the camp workers decided to celebrate Halloween, so they were all dressed in costume as they led us into the darkened, candle-lit tent for dinner. Dinner was pulled-pork sandwiches on fresh, home-made Kaiser rolls. The tables were covered with Halloween candy which had to be eaten quickly lest it attract bears. We were happy to do our part for bear safety.

It was a fun campfire that night, with 2 rangers in camp to lead us. Ranger Dave from the other group (or Danger Rave, as he likes to be known) led a campfire on Yosemite's bears. Actually it was an hour of Dave telling stories about his (sometimes insane) encounters with bears, many of them involving Dave's nakedness at the time, and the spreading of urine as a deterrent.

As the fire burned down, we headed back to our tent ready for a good night's sleep, but our roommates had skipped the campfire and were already sound asleep, the husband snoring like a buzz saw. Ahh, the peaceful sounds of the wilderness.

Continued in High Sierra Loop Trail #4, Layover at Merced Lake

High Sierra Loop Trail #4, Layover at Merced Lake

We woke on the third morning of our trip to another wonderful breakfast. Vegetable omelette with spinach and squash, if I remember correctly. Breakfasts start by helping yourself to hot cereal as you entered, fixing it up with brown sugar, raisins, coconut and chocolate chips, and then finding a seat at a table that already had a giant plate of fresh fruit waiting for you, sometimes with fresh berries! Next came a platter of pancakes, then an egg dish, usually a giant omelette, and then a plate full of bacon or sausage. That mountain air sure makes you hungry.

After breakfast I went to brush my teeth. It felt like some of that pulled pork from the night before was wedged between some teeth at the back of my mouth and was bothering me. That late in the day the light was pretty good in that bathroom, so I inspected my mouth again. There in the good morning light at Merced Lake I was able to look deep into the back of my own mouth and find that my last molar on the bottom of the right side of my mouth was filed down into a post, and was noticably smaller than the surrounding teeth. That gold crown that I had found in my mouth two days ago at Vogelsang was my own! Oh, the embarassment and shame I felt. I wrote a note apologizing to Tom at Vogelsang and asking if my crown could be returned to me. I gave the note to Ranger Dave, who was headed to that camp next, and asked him to meet me at Tuolumne Lodge 2 days later when we both would come out of the back country.

Today was a layover day for both our group and Ranger Dave's, which meant everyone was free to do whatever they pleased. Dave announced that he was going up to a nearby lake 3 miles away, and then trekking further into the canyon for some rock climbing. Lisa announced that she was going to lead a hike 3 miles in the opposite direction to a little known place called Fern Grotto that, when it has water, is a beautiful and refreshing swimming hole. Anyone and everyone was free to join whichever group they liked, or chose none at all.

As we were waiting to start, a jogger went sprinting through our camp, only to be hailed down by Lisa. This bearded man was wearing jogging shorts and shoes, and had a hydration pack on his back and nothing more. It turns out that he led a trail-building crew that was doing work about 10 miles up the trail from us, and he was headed down to Tuolumne for a meeting that afternoon before heading back up the next day. Here it was, 9am, and he had already run 10 miles and still had about 15 to go. This guy was running a complete marathon race, at altitude, and on rocky, uneven, slippery trail. He would run down 2,000 feet in elevation, gain it back, and then lose it again before he was over! Suddenly we didn't feel like the total back country warriors that we had been starting to envision ourselves as.

Not surprisingly, all of our group travelled with Lisa that day. All of our group except for Marion. Marion was still aching after the descent the day before and opted to take it easy around camp, nursing her tired legs and soaking them in the cool river that ran by camp. I felt bad leaving her at camp alone, but she urged me to go on and have fun. I really didn't want to take a day away from hiking for fear that the rest would do me more harm than good, so off we went.

I removed the hydration pack from my backpack and wore it on my back, and removed the lid from my backpack which converted into a fanny-pack. It felt nice to hike without a heavy pack. It was a short, easy hike those 3 miles to where, once again, Lisa led us off the main trail at an unmarked spot and we found our way to the Fern Grotto. It looked like something you would see at Disneyland. A good amount of water washed over a 40 foot tall cascade of stacked granite slabs. On the face of the cascade, growing out of the cracks between the slabs were large, luscious ferns with huge bunches of yellow flowers jutting upwards. Unbelievable. Lisa led the men up the granite slabs to the top of the cascade where the water filled several deep pools. The higher up the granite we climbed, the more pools we found. Lisa pointed to some cliffs high above us and told us that would be a stopping point on our trail the next day.

We came down to find the women sun bathing and enjoying the water. We stayed there for a few hours and enjoyed lunch before heading back. I was eager to see how Marion was doing, so I hiked out in front of our group and got to enjoy an hour or so of solitary hiking, alone with my thoughts and the beauty of the area around me. Marion had enjoyed a swim in the river, and was playing solitare in the dining tent when I returned. She felt much better for having rested.

Dinner that night was chicken tacos with fresh made salsa. Lisa led the campfire that night, talking about bats while we listened to their calls all around us. The snoring wasn't so bad, and we got to sleep quickly that night.

High Sierra Loop Trail #5, Merced Lake to Sunrise

I woke early on our 4th day to enjoy a hot shower before breakfast, hoping to at least start the day feeling clean. Breakfast was as good as always. Seriously, the food at these camps is like being on a cruise ship.

Before leaving camp we had our song to do for the camp workers. I wrote words to the song from Sound of Music, you know, the scene at the party where the children are going to bed? "So long, farewell, auf wiedersehn, good bye. We liked your food, but now it's time to hike" We even did the little dance in between verses.

Our hike that day was to be over 10 miles, gaining back all of the elevation we had lost hiking down from Vogelsang. We started out past Merced Lake, absolutely still in the morning calm and reflecting the granite face beyond it like a mirror. The first mile of that hike was downhill on trail similar to the Stairway to Hell, and I was worried about Marion, but the rest had helped and she used better technique and negotiated this portion of the trail with no problems. After hiking across the most beautiful meadow you've ever seen, a solid purple blanket of lupins blowing gently in the breeze as far as you could see, we came at last to the climb.











Maybe we were in better condition after 3 days of hiking. Maybe we felt better in the thicker air at 7,500 feet (compared to the rare air at 10,000.) Whatever it was, we were a happy group as we climbed, moving steadily up the steep switchbacks without even seeming to breath hard. Graeme and Sharon stopped with Marion and I at an open spot where we could look back across the miles we had covered that morning and took some nice pictures as our group continued on ahead. It was not uncommon for our group to be spread out over half a mile or more, but Lisa always stopped at any trail split until the group had reunited.

After smiling for the camera we started off climbing again. The four of us made a good group together and we all found a nice even rhythm with me in the lead. We were surprised that we weren't catching up with the group at our pace, but unconcerned and just happy to be hiking. After about a mile and a half or so, we came to a trail split and were surprised to not find our group waiting for us. Oh, well, no worries, we knew the way well enough and we were just starting to move on again when from behind us we heard a faint yell. Paying it little heed, because our group, we knew, was ahead of us, not behind us, we started to move on.

But wait, as the yell came again from behind us, louder this time, we looked back to see Ranger Lisa, without her pack and running for all she was worth up that steep trail after us. Apparently, shortly after we stopped to take our picture, Lisa had led the group off the main trail to an overlook to teach us about the local Native American tribes of the area. After dropping their packs she sent Jim back out to the trail to wave us in, but we had already passed. Poor Lisa had to run almost a mile uphill to catch up with us, and then another mile back down to collect the rest of the group who had an extended rest while all this was happening. Lisa told us to continue on and she would meet us at the second river bridge crossing for lunch.

Our group of four got right back into our rhythm and continued to climb happily as we entered Echo Valley. The lunch spot was easy to find, with wide, shaded slabs of granite dipping into the cool stream that ran past. Our group got our extended rest while we waited for the rest to catch up, about half an hour later. After lunch, Lisa gave her talk on Native Americans that we had missed at the overlook. The overlook was a great spot for this talk because it was a spot where Indians had sat and worked flint into tools, and you could still find small flint shavings in the dirt there. Oh, well. Our loss.

After lunch the group started off together again. We had climbed to almost 9,000 feet, but the pass we would go over was over 10,000, so we still had a lot of climbing to do. Lisa considered taking us on a short-cut through Jayne Mansfield pass, a matched pair of granite domes that certainly put you in mind of the buxom pinup girl of the 50s, but we couldn't find any rock cairns marking the turnoff from the main trail to the cleavage of the pass, so we continued on the main trail, at this point very exposed to the high-altitude sun.

The last few miles of climbing were not so happy as the first few had been. The switchbacks were incredibly steep, sometimes having you lever yourself up steps 15 or 20 inches high. Both Graeme and Jim had portable GPS devices which reported not just your postion, but your elevation as well. It was frustrating as they announced we were at 9,800 feet, only a little more to go. My mind expected to see the summit at every turn in the trail, and it was disheartening to see it continue upwards yet again. Finally, a loud "Woo Hoo!" from Lisa announced the summit, and we started downhill for the last 2 miles to Sunrise, our last camp. Marion by this point had figured out the best technique for herself to walk downhill and was doing much better.

After walking a mile across another beautiful meadow, it was a cruel surprise to find that we had to climb 4 flights of stairs to Sunrise Camp, perched in the rocks over the meadow. (You wouldn't want to sleep in the meadow for all the mosquitos there.) Talking about mosquitos, you remember those head nets we drove down to Lee Vining to buy the day before our trip? Never used them. It turns out that by the beginning of August the mosquito problem goes away and they're not nearly the problem that they are earlier in the season. We stopped using Deet after our second day, and I think Marion and I each got 2 or 3 bites the whole trip. I'm not complaining, mind you.

Some more lemonade to welcome us to Sunrise, and we got settled in to our home for the night. Marion and I shared a tent with a couple we had passed several times on the trail that day. Apparently they had only been dating for a short time, and they were very affectionate. We walked into the cabin to find them lying in the same bed but in opposite directions, massaging each other's feet. We gave them their privacy.

We had time for another hot shower at Sunrise before dinner, which that night was the best flat-iron steak I've ever had! Smothered with sauteed onions, peppers and mushrooms, I haven't had a better steak at any restaurant.

After dinner Lisa had our group meet at a beautiful spot overlooking the meadow to watch the sunset. High Sierra sunsets aren't about the pink sky and watching the sun set under the horizon, but about the alpenglow. As the sun sets behind the mountains to the west, they start to cast a shadow on the mountains away to the East, leaving the mountain tops alone to reflect the changing colors of the setting sun, melting from golden yellow to rosy pink, and at last to a rich deep lavender. From that spot at Sunrise we looked across the meadow to see far off Vogelsang peak where we had spent our first night, about 10 miles away as the crow flies, although our trail had taken us much further.

This being our last night, Lisa thanked us for honoring her request not to discuss our occupations, but now the time had come to reveal them. We did it as a guessing game, with everyone taking their best shot before each revealed the truth. It was almost anti-climatic, as by this point we knew each other pretty well as people, and what we each did to earn money was of little consequence.

As it got dark, Lisa ran off to do her last campfire, which is expected of a ranger when they are staying at a camp. It was a very short little campfire where we sang a few funny campfire songs before adjourning. It being another clear night, Lisa wanted to use the opportunity to give her astronomy presentation again for those who had missed it the first night. As Marion and I walked back to our tent from the bathroom, the night sky was alive with the green glow of Lisa's laser.

High Sierra Loop Trail #6, The Last Day

It was a bitter-sweet moment to start out on our last day, hiking from Sunrise camp to Tenaya Lake and civilization. I almost felt guilty as my mind started to think about what real-life responsibilities awaited me at the other end of the day's hike.

We were lucky enough to have my parents stay at our home for a week and watch our two boys, Brodie and Nik, while we were gone. In the 9 1/2 years since Brodie was born, this was only the second time we had spent a night away from them, and the first time we had ever spent anywhere near this long. The fun of this trip wasn't in having a week of adult time with my wife, away from our kids. We love our kids and plan family vacations because we genuinely enjoy spending time with them. I thought of our boys often on the trip, imagining how much fun they would have climbing the rocks at the beautiful waterfall where we lunched that second day, or how much fun they would have had swimming in the river at Merced Lake camp, but I never spent time missing them, knowing they having a great time with their grandparents. But now, as we entered the last day of our trip I started to miss them, and I looked forward to seeing them again and hugging them again, and hearing all the wonderful stories of their adventures while we were gone.

Our last song for the Sunrise camp workers was composed by Sherrill to the tune of Three Blind Mice. Lisa led us through the backpackers' camp and we started off immediately with a mile or so of climbing. We had less than 6 miles to hike that day, so we were in no particular hurry. Lisa led us on the less popular Sunrise Lakes trail instead of the Cathedral Lake trail. She has a particular fondness for the middle Sunrise lake where we stopped to swim in the lake and relax for a while. The wet grass around the lake was literally hopping with tiny yellow-green frogs, no bigger than your thumbnail. We were lucky enough to spot a pine martin loping through the grass. It looked like a very large weasel, larger than a fat tabby cat, with a very long snout.

Vicki, our intrepid 11 year old hiker used the opportunity to finish up the requirements for her Junior Ranger badge. Lisa checked her out on all the requirements and then swore her in on the spot. Lisa carries extra Junior Ranger badges in her pack for just such occasions. Vicki's mom, Jane, got very emotional and shed a few tears during the ceremony.

We started off again, and again Lisa led us off the trail a bit to maybe the most wonderful view in all of Yosemite; A place called Pluton Point. There are no signs to point you there, no marked trail to follow, but for those lucky enough to know the secret this amazing view is only a few hundred yards from the junction of two major trails. From this high point you stand on the edge of a granite wall that drops off deep below you into Tenaya Canyon. Far on the other side of Tenaya Canyon you can make out a faint line etched into the granite that is the Tioga Pass Road. At the bottom of the canyon it drops off into a deep, green hole that in actuality is Yosemite Valley, many miles away. Standing sentinel to Yosemite Valley on your left is Half Dome, completely exposed, but from the opposite side to which you are used to viewing it. Straight across Yosemite Valley you can make out a naked finger nail of granite emerging from the trees around it, Sentinel Dome, and below it you can make out the faint ridge at the edge of the cliffs where Glacier Point is. Looking further to your left you find the craggy point of Cloud's Rest.

How lucky are we to have Ranger Lisa leading our group? How much poorer would our experience have been without her, and we would have never known what we were missing?

I hate to say that the rest of the trip was anti-climatic, but after Pluton Point it's hard to compare. We still had miles of steep downhill trail ahead of us as we climbed back down to 8,000 feet, but Marion had her technique well under control by then. We finished up at Tenaya Lake, a very shallow lake where the water had Mediterranean colors of greens and blues. It was strange to see people with metal lawn chairs sitting in the lake; How did they ever pack those in? Ah, this was the end of our trip and the parking lot was just 100 yards away.

After receiving our diplomas from Lisa in a touching ceremony lakeside, we waited for the shuttle bus to truck us back to Tuolumne Meadows and our cars. Lisa changed into street clothes and met us at the lodge for a beer, but soon enough it was time for us all to start our drives home.

One last piece of business. Marion wanted to buy a shirt for her dad, so we went back into the lodge and who do we see there, but Danger Rave? I had almost forgotten to look for him. He had just come off the trail and was dropping off the envelope with my crown at the lodge office. Tom, the manager at Vogelsang was understandably skeptical about someone stealing the crown for the value of the gold, so Dave was under instructions to verify the missing dental work of anyone claiming the tooth. I opened wide for him, but not wide enough for him to see, so he poked his grubby finger deep into my mouth to get a better look before releasing the crown back to me. So, my tooth had a little vacation from me. I went on the loop trail around the 3 camps, but my tooth only went to Vogelsang and back.

The day after I returned my dentist cleaned the tooth up and managed to re-cement it back into place, none the worse for our separate journeys.

My special thanks to Jim and Sherrill Hanley, Sharon Wilcox, and Graeme, Jane and Vicky Tozer for being such wonderful hiking partners. I can't imagine a better group of people to have spent this trip with. And a very, very special thanks to Ranger Lisa Murphy whose expansive knowledge, quiet caring, sense of humor and obvious enthusiasm made this trip truly unforgettable.

Now You're On My Damn Blog.

My cousin Tony came by to visit with me yesterday to wish me a Happy Birthday. He begged to appear in this blog, and even posed for a picture. This is the picture he chose.

Happy now, Tony?