Skip to main content

Sierra Reflections 2012

Ediza Lake - photo by Robert Weldon
"Whoa!" - for an instant my concentration lapses, feet flailing in the air, a quick flash of puffy white clouds in a clear blue sky, a golden brown hillside cluttered with very large boulders, twisting as I fall, the next instant I hit the ground hard . . . pain shoots through my left hip, "damn!"

My immediate thought, “Oh no . . . will I be able to get up, how will I get down this mountain?” Descending the mountain with hiking pole in one hand and fishing rod in the other, a slower pace, very unpredictable. A habitual quick check padding my pocket; camera, fishing rod, my ankle, my back, nothing broken. Ok, let’s try to get up. My partners, Robert Weldon and Brendan Laurs were further up the mountain photographing the majestic view completely unaware of what just happened. For me, this moment was the culmination of all my training and instincts converging in a painful flash. It was day two of our high Sierra adventure.

We had backpacked to Ediza Lake from the trailhead access point near Mammoth Mountain Lakes. Feeling rugged, we departed about 9:30 am ready to tackle any obstacle nature would throw our way. The air was fresh, with the sweet smell of the pines. Our expectation, good weather, and mother nature did not disappoint.

This sojourn began in golden meadows among fallen trees from recent mountain storms. Initially, our backpacks felt very heavy however, months of training had paid off, I felt surprising strong, my breathing was steady, no gasping for air in the high elevation. Unbidden, I took the lead as we began our ascent from 8,000 to 10,000 feet.  The views were exhilarating, clear blue sky outlined with the craggy mountain peaks. With every footfall puffs of dust arouse from our boots, the peaceful sound of a gentle breeze murmured through the trees . . . pause for a deep breath, the crisp aroma of the pines. Yes, we were free from the bonds of civilization once again. We were independent creatures like the wildlife that inhabited the meadows, streams, and lakes. Nature was once again our companion.

Around each bend new views would recharge our spirit and strength. There were numerous stops along the way to photograph the changing scenery. This first day was extremely challenging, the climb appeared endless. After six hours of climbing, we were ready to stop. “Not yet," Brendan reminded us, "just a couple more hours to reach the lake.”

As the sun dipped behind the mountains finally, Ediza Lake, it had been nine hours. We precariously picked our way to the designated camping area through an off-trail route, a short cut of massive boulders.

Mercifully, we arrived, . . . to our utter astonishment the first group of campers we encountered sat quietly reading a book, in their lounge chairs, under a canopy, with a large table, and a dual-burner Coleman stove! They must have seen my jaw drop in complete disbelief. There were no roads, much of the trail we had just traversed was very narrow and extremely precarious. “How in the world did you get all that gear up here?” I asked. An overwhelming expression of ignorance and embarrassment must have been obvious to our fellow campers. 

“A mule team, we’re here for a week,” was their response. “We’ve been here for two days.” No kidding! However, as we walked away a renewed sense of pride came over us, We made it under our own power, no mules, just determination, guile, persistent, consistent effort. "Let’s pitch camp and get settled.”

. . . “Coffee’s ready - you guys awake?” It was 5:30 am, before turning in we had made a pledge that we would photograph first light in this beautiful valley nestled beneath the peaks. The Minarets, the range of mountains that John Muir had dubbed the “Mountains of Light” came alive that morning with a warm golden glow. Lake Ediza provided a reflecting pool that merged the sky and the mountains together as one, what a spectacular sight!

Where's Patrick? - by Robert Weldon
That second day just kept getting better. Free from our heavy backpacks we explored the area then decided to take an afternoon hike straight up (1,000 foot elevation gain) from our campsite to Nydiver Lakes. “All we need are the 10 essentials and our fishing rods, the fishing pressure at Nydiver is minimal.”

Yes, the trout fishing was superb, catching one right after another. After catching our supper I was eager to descend back to camp. Feeling rather bullish I started down the mountain then whomp, I hit the ground hard! Slowly I got up, checked for my companions and patiently descended back to camp.

In my haste I had forgotten the first rule of wilderness camping, stay focused on the task at hand. No matter how strong you become, a simple fall can cripple your body in an instant, how fortunate I was to simply pull a muscle that day.

Today, as I reflect on this Sierra adventure I’m reminded once again of natures potential;  exquisite solitude, exhilarating experiences, a beautiful companion, the delight of discovery, yet contrast with the harsh reality of survival.

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.” - Cesare Pavese. 
Labels:
Location: Ediza Lake, Inyo National Forest, California, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

The Gopher Problem and the High Powered Solution

Vacationing in Maine this week, just a short drive down the coast from Freeport, it is hard not to think about the outsized impact one frustrated outdoorsman had on the gear we all use today. Bad equipment can ruin a perfectly good day on the water or the trail, but it takes a special kind of vision to turn cold feet into a century-old empire. This is the story of the company we now know as L.L.Bean, but more importantly, it is a masterclass in integrity, learning from failure, and standing behind your work. In 1912, Leon Leonwood Bean faced a persistent problem: returning from expeditions in the Maine woods with cold, wet feet. Instead of complaining, he got creative. He had a local shoemaker stitch waterproof rubber soles onto the flexible leather uppers of a hunting boot. He called it the Maine Hunting Shoe and mailed a flyer promising perfect satisfaction. Then reality arrived. Ninety of his first 100 pairs failed when the rubber separated from the leather. Not an effective product...
Post a Comment
Read more

Beyond Facts-The Deep Dive

✨ In this episode, Beyond Facts: Reimagining School–in the Age of AI . . .   This week's podcast is a bit different; it's another example of how Artificial Intelligence (AI) can offer tools to creatively enhance your analytical presentation of information. We took this week's blog and copied it into Gemini with the question, “If a story is to work, it must, on some level, create an illusion of escape and also achieve a goal simultaneously. Does this apply to my blog post that follows?” What's created is not just an analysis of the writing, but an AI-generated discussion produced “On the Fly” - Enjoy! Did you know that the word "school" comes from the ancient Greek word scholē , which originally meant "leisure"? Not a rigid schedule or droning lectures filled with "facts," but free time for thinking and conversation. To the Greeks, learning happened best when life slowed down—when you had room to reflect, to ask questions, and to wrestle ...
4 comments
Read more

Stamps and Snow

In this episode, Stamps and Snow . . .   You don’t usually walk into the local Post Office expecting a time warp . . . but here we are. All we wanted were stamps for this year's Christmas cards— yes, the old-fashioned paper ones that require licking, sticking, and hoping the Postal Service is feeling ambitious this week. But holiday errands have a talent for slowing you down, almost like the universe whispering, “Relax. You’re not getting out of this line any faster anyway.” So we waited. And while we waited, we talked (Are you surprised?). Because the Post Office is one of the few places where people still look up from their phones long enough to talk . . . Maybe it's because they're holding packages. It’s the modern town square: part civic duty, part free entertainment, part sociology experiment. The discussion began with holiday specials streaming on Netflix, Paramount+, and other services during this time of year. One gentleman who has lived in Vista since 1958 told us,...
3 comments
Read more

The Rhythm of the Woodpecker

The morning in Vista often begins under a heavy, gray marine layer that rolls in from the coast, pressing a damp, muffled stillness over the neighborhood. At 4:30 a.m., the driveways are still full. The local commuters are either blissfully unconscious or stumbling blindly toward their showers, clinging desperately to their last shred of peace before the nine-to-five grind claims them for the day. I, on the other hand, am voluntarily wide awake in the dark. When your agenda consists of absolutely nothing, it is critical to get an early start. Inside the house, the quiet is profound, broken only by the sharp, mechanical click of the kettle as it reaches a rolling boil. I stand at the counter, watching the dark ground coffee bloom as hot water hits the French press's stainless steel. The smell is sudden and heavy—a deep, roasted-earth aroma that cuts through the morning fog. I push against the plunger’s gritty resistance, pouring a cup that radiates dark, stinging heat against my pal...
Post a Comment
Read more