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Sierra Reflections 2014 - Part Two

Still somewhat giddy from our adventure with the bear, we moved on.

 “Little Lakes Valley trail is very popular,” said Brendan. Expect to see more day-hikers than usual.”

Trailhead parking was already full when we arrived. Quickly we found out why from one of the locals. “We love this place; it’s an easy hike with glorious views.” We consulted our map, and the elevation gain from the trailhead to Chickenfoot Lake was less than 600 feet. An easy climb. Obviously, many weekend visitors and fishermen came to enjoy the scenic beauty and fish the abundant lakes. I paused to admire the graceful arc of a fly-line as a fisherman stood casting his line to the edge of tall green grass at Marsh lake.

The weather patterns changed constantly. Our hike began with intense blue skies, blanketed by wispy clouds and interspersed with low-hanging cumulous clouds that framed the mountain peaks. Human sounds faded. Nature took over; murmuring waters and leaves shimmered as the breeze lightly caressed the trees. The fresh smell of pine-scented air. Summer flowers filled the verdant meadows. A photographer’s delight. Ah, summer in the Sierras - Mother Nature, once again our companion.

We arrived at Chickenfoot Lake early that afternoon and established a base camp on the northern side of the lake. Off the beaten trail, more private. A dramatic southerly panorama of craggy Mt. Dade, Mt. Abbot, Mt. Mills, and Mt. Star towering over the lake with elevations of over 13,700 feet. Spectacular! Definitely worth the extra effort to circumnavigate the lake.

As the sun dipped behind the peaks, lingering by the lake, we watched the delicate ripples of trout feeding, superb fishing. We savored fresh brook and rainbow trout for dinner. However, by early evening the wind picked up, and menacing dark clouds appeared.

The rains came about 8:00 p.m., no star viewing tonight. Reluctantly, we climbed into our tents for an early bedtime. A soft, steady rain lulled me to sleep. About 1:00 a.m. I awoke to a ghastly sound - Pop - Pop - POP. That sound? Could it be a bear? Nah, it must be the trees. Nothing I could do about it now so just go back to sleep.

The next morning I asked my companions, “Did you hear that popping sound? Any idea what it could possibly be?”

No one had an answer.

Again, blue skies appeared. Free from our heavy backpacks, we planned a morning hike that would take us to an elevation of over 11,000 feet. This meant winding our way up a practically bare granite formation. Huffing and puffing, we climbed the mountain. Frustrated by the lack of oxygen, I was beginning to doubt my fitness. During all that training, I never considered the importance of acclimating to the high altitude. However, a quick rest and within a few seconds I was breathing normally again. My months of preparation had paid off.

As we ascended the mountain, practically from nowhere, threatening, low- hanging, black clouds appeared from the south. “It looks like they’re going to miss us,” said Brendan. “Let’s keep an eye on them.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance, lighting flashed, and sheets of swirling rain pounded the southern slopes. Then the wind shifted, and suddenly we were staring directly into the blackness those clouds overhead, exposed on barren rock, it was time to move.

“We’re outta here,” said Brendan. “Let’s get off this rock as quick as possible.” We donned our rain gear and within minutes the downpour began.

Then, that sound - Pop - Pop - POP. The ground began to turn white. Suddenly, we were in the middle of a pounding hail storm with pebble size hailstones exploding on the rocks. We laughed about our misguided imaginings, not a bear at all. Unexpectedly, Mother Nature, once again, exercised her authority on our surroundings. What an exhilarating experience!

Respectfully my thoughts turned to John Muir, who had explored these very mountain passes over 140 years ago.

“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.”

What an enlightened moment. The storm had filled our spirits with renewed energy. We trudged along, in the rain, delighted at the situation we now found ourselves in. “This sure beats sitting in the camp being pounded by hail,” I said.

As I reflect with satisfaction, accomplishment, and peace on this year’s adventure, anticipation fills my heart. By golly, we need to start preparing for next year's trip. We just might see another bear!

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