Brendan on Buick Rock |
Ker-Plop! Was the dismal sound I heard surrounded by the rushing waters of the trout stream in the High Sierras, as my Coolpix digital camera sank to the bottom of the river. “Grab it quick, take the battery out, dry it off the best you can” shouted my fishing companion above the roaring waters. Immediately, I reached into the icy cold, crystal clear waters, grabbed the camera before it was washed away in the rushing current. The date, Friday, August 23, 2013. Our Sierra trips were as much about photography as they were about hiking, camping, and exploring. Now all I could think was, Damn! - So much for taking pictures on this trip. We had just arrived for our four day mountain adventure at Parchers Resort west of Bishop California at an elevation of 9,200 feet.
Undaunted, we made plans to hike to Bishop Lake (elevation 11,128 feet) and establish a base-camp. This adventure began at the trailhead access point near South Lake (9,750 feet). However, today, we needed to acclimate to the high altitude; our first night was spent in relative luxury. The cabin at Parchers was well equipped with comfortable beds and a shower, stove, and flush toilets. We were only one and a half mile from the wilderness trailhead access point. The fishing excursion (where I dunked the camera) had provided dinner - fresh rainbow trout that Brendan cooked up on our cabin stove. The next morning we enjoyed a hearty breakfast provided by the Resort, packed and by 9:30 a.m. began our trek up the mountain. Curiously, after breakfast, I noticed the lens had retracted into the camera body. Hmmm, maybe there was still life in this camera after all. With a flicker of hope, I tried turning it on - nothing, oh well - let’s move on.
The trail to Bishop Pass from South Lake rises in a series of granite benches. Nestled in the meadows were a succession of pristine mountain lakes (Hurd, Long, Saddlerock, and Timberlake Tarns). The placement of the tiered lakes which were connected by rushing water falls, was the result of a former glacier, natures dramatic landscape architect. Skies were deep blue and crystal clear. Initially, our backpacks felt heavy. However, months of training had paid off, my breathing was steady, no gasping for air in the high elevation. The peaceful sound of running water, the buffeting winds murmured through the trees, pause for a deep breath, and the crisp aroma of the pines. Ah, summer in the Sierras - nature was once again our companion. We were free from the bonds of civilization. Detached, independent, creatures like the wildlife that inhabited the meadows, streams, and lakes. Our ascent was steady and by 2:30 p.m. we had reached our base camp at the foot of Mount Goode. “That was surprising easy,” I commented to Brendan. We spent the afternoon establishing camp, a nap in the warm sun, and fishing. The trout fishing was superb, dinner yet again, with delicious fresh trout.
. . . “Water’s boiling - you awake, some hot tea?” It was our third day in the mountains, 6:30 am, the winds were howling. From our campsite, the view of the craggy ole’ peaks framing the lake was spectacular. We had discussed climbing to a granite outcropping, a huge vertical rock formation, that from our vantage point looked like a circa 1940s Buick hood ornament. We affectionately named it Buick Rock. This adventure would take us up-and-over Bishop Pass and along the dividing ridge between Inyo National Forest and Kings Canyon National Park, an elevation of over 12,000 feet.
“Check your camera, is it working? And be sure to pack your Ten Essentials.” said Brendan. We had placed my Coolpix camera on a rock, in the sun, with hopes the high elevation, dry air, and heat from sun would completely dry it out.
“Check your camera, is it working? And be sure to pack your Ten Essentials.” said Brendan. We had placed my Coolpix camera on a rock, in the sun, with hopes the high elevation, dry air, and heat from sun would completely dry it out.
“No such luck – this camera is dead,” I replied.
We made our way up the switchbacks to the pinnacle of Bishop Pass. With Brendan's camera we were able to photograph some scenes of the valley below, it was an absolutely breathtaking sight.
With a renewed respect my thoughts turned to John Muir, who had explored many ares of these very mountain passes. “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.” During Muir’s time (late 1800s) he would capture this beauty through sketches, so with some trepidation I include my "sketched" memory.
My Sketch |
With a renewed respect my thoughts turned to John Muir, who had explored many ares of these very mountain passes. “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.” During Muir’s time (late 1800s) he would capture this beauty through sketches, so with some trepidation I include my "sketched" memory.
If you’re wondering whatever happened to that camera, well, our last night in camp we set out to photograph the the alpenglow of the peaks. With one last desperate attempt I hit the "on" switch and miraculously the camera came to life - the lens extended and the display lit-up, I could not believe it. Miracles do happen. We spent a quiet evening traversing Bishop Lake capturing the majesty of the peaks that cradled our valley.
Today, as I reflect on this Sierra adventure I’m reminded, once again, of what John Muir so eloquently stated, “Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.”
Ker-Plop!
Ker-Plop!
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