Skip to main content

Sierra Reflections 2011

Wrapped in the cozy warmth of a down bag I’m jolted awake from a deep slumber - nature calls. The silence is shattered by the rustle of my sleeping bag. The sweet aroma of the mountain fills the air, and that ever-present biting crisp air on your cheeks! The zipper moans as you free yourself, then the struggle to find your wool sweater, pants, and shoes to stumble into the brisk morning air. Another zipper whines as you crawl to escape the protection of your mountain shelter. Quietly . . . do not disturb is the invisible sign worn by your fellow campers.


Photo: Robert Weldon
Darkness surrounds you, it's early morning, late summer. It’s tranquil, except for the soft gurgle of the trout stream that lulled you to sleep the night before. Finally - clear weather, the rains have stopped; millions of stars twinkle like tiny sparkling diamonds against a pitch-black sky. Orion, the hunter is clearly visible in the eastern sky; careful inspection you can see the nebula glow. It's day three of my first wilderness-backpacking trip in the High Sierra Mountains’ (elevation 10,500 feet) 20 miles south west of Bishop California camped at Dingleberry Lake.

Will it rain today? We need to break camp. There is no rush, time on the mountain passes at a glacial pace. Has it really only been three days? The deluge of rain, sleet, and snow on the high peaks is but a memory now. However this morning, it's cold, crisp, and clear. Scanning the pristine heavens the clarity suggests another beautiful day in the Sierra Mountains.

Robert emerges from hibernation; his tent frozen, shaking off the cold he says in a whisper, “Lets' shoot the sunrise on these peaks that surround the campsite.” As Brendan sleeps, we make our way to the lakes edge, setup the camera and tripod, then sit back and experience the magic of the mountains as the morning sun rises on the peaks. Softly the blackness fades away and the very tip of the mountains begin to glow. What a glorious experience.

This morning is the culmination of an adventure that began Friday, September 9, 2011 with an invitation to join Robert Weldon and Brendan Laurs on a late summer wilderness expedition. My response was immediate, “Yes I’m in!” I was ready . . . well I thought so. Just a few months before with the anticipation of such a trip I had purchased a backpack. As we began to collect our gear for the trip, I proudly pulled my new backpack from the garage, Brendan’s immediate response, “Not with that tiny pack, we need to share food, cooking gear, tent, and supplies. We’ll stop in Bishop, you can rent a pack.”

Simultaneous thoughts begun to whirl through my mind; anticipation, confusion, apprehension, what will we need to pack, how much will we carry? Three days, will I be able to pack the necessary load and keep up? With a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Robert says, “No problem, its easy - you’ll see.” So, with that assurance we set off. The truck is packed to the hilt with equipment, food, and supplies for our weekend adventure in the Sierras’.

Yes, this was a glimpse of my first wildness adventure – upon reflection I’m filled with an inner peace and feeling of accomplishment. An experience I’ll treasure for a lifetime. 

So, the next time you’re presented with the opportunity to backpack the Sierra’s, with seasoned travelers don’t hesitate, say, “yes I’m in!” You too will be exhilarated by the experience.

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.” - Cesare Pavese

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

We Need Awe More Than Ever

In this episode, Why We Need Awe More Than Ever Yesterday morning, I slipped into the cool stillness of my backyard before dawn. The air was crisp, the silence deep—broken only by the faint rustling of leaves and the familiar calls of birds waking early. Then I looked up. A thin crescent moon hung low in the east, with Venus just above it like a shining jewel. The sky was clear and full of stars, and for a moment, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time: Awe! For thousands of years, the heavens have carried on their steady dance, untouched by human noise. No ruler, no election, no breaking news has ever changed their rhythm. And yet here I was, tempted to reach for my phone—to trade the eternal for the urgent. Instead, I stayed. I watched the moonrise, the sky slowly lighten, and the world around me stir. Ducks passed overhead in a loose V, hummingbirds zipped past to visit their feeder, pausing mid-air as if curious about me sitting so still. Little by little, the static in my mind f...

The Birth of a Cubs Legend

In this episode, The 162-Game Exhale — and the Birth of a Cubs Legend There’s a hush in the baseball world on Game 162 — a collective breath drawn in and slowly released. Scoreboards stop flipping. Dugouts empty. For six months, the game has been our steady heartbeat, pulsing from the cherry blossoms of Tokyo in March to the crisp, playoff-charged winds of late September. And now, as the regular season exhales, baseball fans everywhere pause to absorb the story we’ve just lived. For me, that story has been deeply personal. This season unfolded in the rhythms of my daily life. It was the summer soundtrack echoing beneath the constant turmoil of politics and sensational headlines. It was a handful of carefully chosen ballpark pilgrimages stitched together with countless nights in front of MLB.TV. And at the center of it all, for a lifelong Cubs fan like me, it revolved around one name — a young center fielder who turned hope into history: Pete Crow-Armstrong. The 2025 season didn’t begin...

The Pessimism Aversion Trap

In this episode, The Pessimism Aversion Trap Picture this: a room full of bright minds nodding in agreement as a bold new strategy is unveiled. The slides are polished, the vision is grand, and the future, we're told, has never looked brighter. Everyone beams—because who wants to be the one to say, "Um… this might not work"? Heaven forbid someone spoil the mood with a dose of reality. Better to smile, add a buzzword or two, and march confidently toward disaster. That's how the Pessimism Aversion Trap works. Even now, I can still hear the sound—a high-pitched shriek and a digital hum, followed by the slow, rhythmic clatter of data pouring from a 5¼-inch floppy disk. It was the late 1980s, and my makeshift home office (our living room) was dominated by what felt like a marvel of modern engineering: a used Tandy 1000 PC with not one, but two floppy drives. To top it off, we purchased a 'blisteringly fast' 300-baud modem—which, for the uninitiated, could downloa...

Pushing the Pause Button

In this episode, Pushing the Pause Button: Stepping Off the Treadmill Hello, friends — If you're reading this, I'm already off the grid. Today begins a much-needed vacation, and for the next few weeks, On the Fly is taking a break right along with me. For a long time, my inner voice has said, 'Keep every commitment, no matter what.' That's meant early mornings, long days, and a calendar packed with posts, podcasts, and projects I couldn't seem to say no to. I've been trying to be the tireless workhorse—but that kind of grind doesn't end well. Lately, I've noticed I'm not quite myself—shorter fuse, louder sighs, and a few too many grumbles (Lori deserves a medal). That's when you know it's time to hit pause before the spark burns out. So, I'm stepping back to rest, recharge, and remember what it feels like to not live by the next deadline: no tech, no to-do lists, just some space to breathe. Thank you, truly, for all your support and ...