A Bear Sighting | Prt. 2

In this episode - A Bear Sighting Part 2 . . .

If you recall, it was day two of our 2014 Sierra adventure. We left our heroes at the East Fork Campground along Rock Creek in the Eastern Sierra, an elevation of 9,000 feet.

Still somewhat giddy from our bear encounter, 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, about four miles, the elevation of 10,789 feet, was less than 600 feet. An easy climb. 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 cast his fly to the edge of tall green grass at Marsh lake.

For those listeners who have never been to the Sierras, weather patterns change constantly. Our hike began with intense blue skies, blanketed by wispy clouds and interspersed with low-hanging cumulous clouds that framed the mountain peaks. The sounds of civilization faded, no cell service here. Nature took over; murmuring waters and leaves shimmered as the breeze lightly caressed the trees. The fresh smell of pine filled the air. Summer flowers dotted the green 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 (off the beaten trail) on the north side of the lake. 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.

Lingering by the glasslike lake, as the sun dipped behind the peaks, we watched the delicate ripples of trout feeding. Superb fishing. We savored fresh 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., so no star gazing 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 strange sound - Pop - Pop - POP.

That sound? Could it be a bear? Nah, it must be the trees. Nothing I could do about it anyway, so I just went back to sleep.

The following morning I asked my companions, "Did you hear that popping sound? Any idea what it was?"

"I didn't hear a thing."

The golden glow on the horizon revealed blue skies once again. Free from our clunky backpacks, we planned a morning hike that would take us to an elevation of over 11,000 feet. Huffing and puffing, we slowly wound our way up the bare granite formation. Frustrated by the lack of oxygen, I began doubting my fitness. During all that training, I never considered the importance of acclimating to the high altitude. However, after a quick rest, within a few seconds, I was breathing normally again. My months of preparation had paid off.

As we approached the mountain summit, out of nowhere, threatening, low-hanging black clouds appeared to the south.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, lighting flashed, and sheets of swirling rain pounded the southern slopes. Then the wind shifted, and we stared directly into the blackness of those ominous clouds. Exposed on a barren rock, it was time to move.

"We're outta here," Let's get off this rock as fast 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.

I had to laugh about my misguided imaginings from last night, not a bear at all. Mother Nature once again exercised her authority on our surroundings. What an exhilarating experience!

Respectfully my thoughts turned to the writings of 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 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."

Did we see any bears in the wilderness? Not one.

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening. I'll see you in the next episode.