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

A Mother’s Day Reflection

With Mother’s Day here and the world bustling with cards, brunches, and busy schedules, I find myself reflecting on something a bit simpler: taking a moment to remember the person who helped shape my earliest sense of home. Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom. We arrived in Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition whose enormity I only fully appreciate now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped into Midwestern life with remarkable courage. Her smile could warm the coldest Illinois morning, and her hugs lingered long after she let go—quiet reminders that you were deeply loved. Born February 16, 1934, the third of four children, she grew up in Nazi-occupied La Rochelle. As kids, we listened wide-eyed to stories of soldiers patrolling her streets and fear shadowing everyday life. Yet she carried none of that darkness forward. What endured was resilience and an unwavering devotion to family—qualities she carried across the Atlantic and planted firmly in C...

Time Travel, Roving Mics, and Muscle Memory

In this episode, the 2026 Sinkankas Symposium. Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t arrive in a DeLorean. No flux capacitor, no dramatic lightning strike—just a Saturday parking pass and a name badge. And yet, somewhere between the rotunda doors and the first handshake, it happened anyway. This past Saturday, April 25th, I was transported—effortlessly and completely—back in time at the 20th Annual Sinkankas Symposium on the GIA campus in Carlsbad. Walking into that magnificent main campus rotunda early with my colleagues, Paul Mattlin and Glenn Wargo, felt like wrapping myself in a familiar, gem-encrusted blanket. It was less a building, more a family living room where nobody ever really forgets your name. The halls were quiet (a rare and beautiful thing), and the soft echo of our footsteps on the polished floors sounded exactly as I remembered it. For a moment, it wasn’t 2026—it was April 1997, my first time walking onto the beautiful, brand-new GIA campus as Director of Alumni. Som...

Freedom 7 - 65th Anniversary

Podcast - Freedom 7; 65th Anniversary . "Man must rise above the Earth - to the top of the atmosphere and beyond - for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives." - Socrates, 500 B.C. May 5, 2026, marks the 65th anniversary of Freedom 7's launch. Commander Alan B. Shepard, Jr. became the first American in space. A 15-minute sub-orbital flight, a day for the history books; the entire world was watching. NASA and the world had witnessed many trial runs explode violently on the launch pad. The space program was in its infancy. Unlike today, there were far too many unknowns. This prompted me to pull out one of my favorite books from my office library,  Light This Candle , by Neal Thompson, copyright 2004. Light This Candle is a biography of Alan Shepard, Jr., you won't be able to put down. It's - "Story-telling at its best . . . every page is alive," says David Hartman, U.S Naval Institute. In the opening pages, you read endorsements fr...

That Fateful Four-Letter Word

In this episode, A Masterclass in Efficiency. For nearly four months, the western border of our property has stood as a living monument to determination, dubious planning, and forensic-level lumber acquisition. Since February, our neighbor Steve has been conducting what can only be described as a masterclass in deliberate calculation. This was never going to be one of those slick home-improvement shows where a cheerful pair of men installs a fence between commercial breaks, sipping lemonade. No. This was real life in retirement. We scaled the vertical wilderness of our hillside. We mixed concrete with the precision of medieval alchemists. We bled, we sweated, and we fought hand-to-hand with a buried tree stump that had the structural integrity of a Cold War bunker. By this week—May 16th, for those keeping score—the glorious end was finally within reach. The fence stood proudly, the line was straight, and victory practically hummed in the air. Only one major task remained: installing t...