Skip to main content

Sierra Reflections 2016

“We’ve planned a 50 mile wilderness hike over six days in the Sierra’s every year for the past 30 years,” said the lean stranger with a warm smiling expression and a fully loaded backpack over his shoulders.

"You guys inspire me to keep climbing! May I ask, how old you are?”

“Sure, I’m 78. . . ”

Unbelievable, I thought to myself, pausing to reflect, at how physically demanding the past few days of climbing switchbacks, scaling boulders, squatting lakeside to filter water, and simply doing the daily chores it takes to wilderness backpack in the Eastern Sierra’s.

“How in the world do they carry enough food for six days, their packs look smaller than ours? We must be doing something wrong.” I commented to my companions.

My muscles were strong, breathing easy, but for some reason I had been physically exhausted this trip. I suspect it all started with a beer!

It was day three of our 2016 Sierra adventure. Finally accumulated to the elevation of over 11,000 feet Robert Weldon, Brendan Laurs, and I were headed back to the trailhead at Lake Sabrina after spending two nights at Midnight Lake in the Sierra’s near Bishop California.

“Boy do I feel like a slacker,” I said to my companions as we walked away from this inspiring group of mountaineers.

“Me too!” Was the groan I heard from behind.

The five hour drive to Bishop, CA. on Friday, August 5th had passed without incident. Our inspirational first stop was the Galen and Barbara Rowell Mountain Light Gallery for a little photographic excellence. A must see destination for first time visitors.

After that we popped into the Mountain Rambler Brewery to fill the Howler Lori and I had purchased last year. That would prove an entertaining diversion for my companions later that night. With the greatest enthusiasm for this years hike we spent our first night in relative luxury at Parchers Resort. Brendan had secured our reservation months earlier for a backpackers cabin.

“This will give us a chance to accumulate to the elevation.” he said.

Perched on the front porch we shared a cold brew.

“All we need are rocking chairs. Ha ha.” we chuckled.

As the early evening light on the mountain peaks began to glow it was time to do some trout fishing. At Parchers, you simply walk down the paved road about 50 yards and scamper down the bank to the crystal clear rushing trout stream.

We caught and cleaned three trout stream side.

“It’s getting dark, we better get back to the cabin.” 

So, with the expectation of fresh trout for dinner, fishing rod and trout in hand I bounded up the steep bank to the road. Immediately everything started to spin out of control.

“Brendan, stop. I feel dizzy all of a sudden.” 

He saw me stagger then helped me sit before I fell over in the roadway.

“You ok,” he said.

“Whoa! Did I just get off a spinning carnival ride. Give me a minute to just lay here and recover.”

“Must be a combination of the beer and extreme elevation gain. Did you feel tipsy after the beer?”

“Tipsy - you mean drunk, you guys forget, I’m a lightweight.”   

Admittedly I felt very weak after this incident. We returned to the cabin had fresh trout for dinner then went to bed early.

The next morning I was up at sunrise, dressed then went for a brisk walk around the Resort. I felt fine after a restful nights sleep. A little fatigued but back to normal. 

So, we balanced our backpack loads, packed the car, and drove to the trailhead at Lake Sabrina. By 10:00 a.m. we were on our way up the mountain. What a beautiful morning. Intense blue crystal clear skies. The lake reflecting the clear baby blue color of the sky. Human sounds faded. Nature took over; murmuring waters, leaves shimmered as the breeze lightly caressed the trees. The fresh smell of pine-scented air. Summer flowers. A photographer’s delight. Ah, summer in the Sierras - Mother Nature, once again our companion.

“This is what wilderness backpacking is all about. No phones, no computers, no cars or airplanes. Just the sounds of nature to refresh the soul.”

Well, about seven hours into our hike, a forty pound pack, six miles and a 2,000 foot elevation gain Robert and I were completely exhausted.

“We’re almost there. According to the map it’s only 0.6 of a mile to Midnight Lake.”

“You said 0.6 of a mile two miles ago, let’s just camp here, I’m completely exhausted."

“You guys can make it, just a bit further.”

Now every step was complete agony.

“Let’s rest here a few minutes Robert.” We sat next to a lake not identified on our Topo Map. “I think Brendan has gone ahead to scout out a campsite. The guy is a mountain goat.” 

Finally, we were able to stand again and trudged on. As we crested a bolder formation we saw Brendan without his pack. What a glorious sight.

“He’s found a campsite.”

With a new spring in our step we made our way to the site, pitched our tents, had some dinner and crashed for the night.

Now don’t get me wrong. Once you establish a base camp in the Sierra’s it's magical. Beautiful clear skies the entire trip. At night we watched the meteor showers dance across the darkness. But for some reason, I suspect it was the beer, I was physically exhausted this entire trip.

We camped two nights. On day three I awoke with boundless energy ready to challenge that six mile decent back to the trailhead.

About three miles into our decent we met that group of Septuagenarians . . . 

“Boy do I feel like a slacker, next year we’re going to begin training much earlier.” we vowed.

“Right!”

Once again, I’m reminded, of what John Muir so eloquently stated, “Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.”

An inspirational trip, for the record books.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Chasing the Magic

In this episode, Chasing the Magic: How the Summer of ’98 Inspired the 'Ball Boys' . . .  Do you remember that feeling? The late-summer air was thick with humidity, radios crackling on porches, the smell of fresh-cut grass and barbecue smoke in the backyard. Every evening carried a new kind of suspense—the country holding its collective breath after every pitch. “Did he hit one today?” became more than a question; it sparked a nationwide conversation.   For me, and millions of others, the summer of 1998 wasn’t just another baseball season. It was theater, a movement, a time when the game recaptured something sacred. As sportswriter Mike Lupica said so perfectly,   “No matter how old you are or how much you’ve seen, sports is still about memory and imagination. Never more than during the summer of ’98, when baseball made everyone feel like a kid again, when it felt important again.”    Just four years earlier, the 1994 players’ strike had left the sport bruised...

Beyond Facts

✨ 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 scholÄ“ , 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 ...

Retirement Talk

In this episode, Patrick & Huck: Retirement Talk . . .   We all get caught daydreaming sometimes, don’t we? Just like Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn might’ve done, lazyin’ by the river with a fishing pole in hand and the BIG wide world spinn’ in their heads. This morning, with coffee steaming and plans bubbling, I found myself driftin’ into a chat with none other than my imaginary friend–Huck Finn himself. Patrick: “Mornin’, Huck. Say, I’m mighty curious what you’d make of this retirement business.” Huck: “Well now, sit tight, ‘cause I’ve been thinkin’ on that too. Only thirty-one days 'til you're sixty-nine — whew! You're talkin’ ‘bout quittin’, hangin’ up your spurs, Givin’ the workin’ life its final good slurs. Ain’t got no debts, no mortgage, no fuss, Just clean livin’ and freedom waitin’ on the bus. Most folks’d throw hats in the air, cheerin’ loud and proud, But you? You’re starin’ out yonder, lost in some cloud. You're dreamin’ of cyclin' and books and guitar...

The Sights of Summer

In this episode, The Sights of Summer: Chasing Miles & Unexpected Smiles . . . For Lori and me, the perfect summer morning isn't something you find marked on a calendar; it's a feeling . It's the refreshing crispness of the air on our faces, the gentle warmth of the sun on our skin, and the exciting anticipation of discovering new miles and uncovering the hidden "sights of summer" along our journey. A glorious California day returns with our weekly ride. We begin with a warm-up cruise around our neighborhood under a wide, cloudless, azure sky. With a smile, I’m thinking, " You know it’s going to be a great ride when even furry co-pilots are excited!"  We chuckled as a neighbor drove past, two white, fluffy dogs with their tongues flapping in the breeze and ears flopping wildly out the truck window. Pure canine bliss—an ideal sign for a fun day on two wheels. “Did you see those pups? They looked like they were smiling.” Traffic was blissfully light, ...