On The Fly

Podcast, " We Remember Moments. " "We don't remember days; we remember moments." Wrapped in the cozy warmth of a down bag, I'm jolted awake from a deep slumber - nature calls.  The rustle of my sleeping bag shatters the silence. The sweet aroma of the mountain air fills the senses, and that ever-present biting cool crisp air on your cheeks! It's day three of my first wilderness-backpacking trip in the High Sierra Mountains (elevation 10,500 feet), 20 miles southwest of Bishop, California, camped at  Dingleberry Lake . The zipper moans as you free yourself, then the struggle to find your wool sweater, pants, and shoes to stumble into the brisk morning air. Another zipper whines as you quietly crawl to escape the protection of your mountain shelter. Darkness surrounds you. It's early morning, late summer. It's tranquil, except for the soft gurgle of the trout stream that lulled you to sleep last night. Finally - clear weather, the rains have stoppe...

“Good morning - how far are you going up the trail,” was the question I asked a lone hiker. “Oh, she paused, I’m just out for a stroll.” “Brendan, did you see that woman hiking alone way up here?” “I did, that was probably the oldest person I’ve ever seen hiking these mountains.” “What do you think, 83 maybe 84 years old?” Incredible , 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. Owens Valley It was early Friday morning, our forth day in the Sierras, headed home. This octogenarian had climbed over 600 feet of switchbacks to a dramatic view of the Owens Valley, near Bishop CA., destination, Grass Lake. It was day three of our 2017 Sierra adventure. Finally accumulated to the elevation of over 11,000 feet Brendan Laurs, and I were descending to ...

“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 ...

“Do you think I’ll need my gloves?”  “No doubt,” I said to Lori as we prepared to make the trek up the Mountain from Bishop, CA , on route 168, to the Bishop Pass trailhead at South Lake (elevation 9,620 ft). Bishop Pass Trailhead It was cold late October weather. 36 degrees when we parked the truck and stepped into the brisk, fresh Sierra mountain air.  The golden yellow fall colors of trembling Aspens surrounded us.  We never passed a single car driving the 20 miles from downtown Bishop past Parchers Resort (closed for the season) to our roadside parking. My first thought - where is everyone? Wonder if the trailhead is closed for the season? Nah, can’t be. The parking lot was gated . . . why? “ Last time I was here we couldn't find a place to park. There were bicyclists, people trout fishing Bishop Creek, and the resort was teeming with activity - this year no one. Weird!” Undaunted, we layered our clothes, strapped on our day-packs, adjus...

“My husband . . . Some people are tree huggers, mine is a tree sniffer.” “Try it. Right here,” as I touched the smooth bare russet wood of the ancient Bristlecone Pine. “This smells like Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey Whiskey, it’s like no other tree I’ve ever smelled. It’s an aromatic blend of pine, sweet honey, and wood.” I said to Lori as we hiked the four mile Methuselah Walk of the ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest . Lori laughed, “I doubt Jack Daniel's would advertise their Whisky with the slogan,” Try our special blend, smells like a Bristlecone Pine. The Bristlecone Pine (species Pinus longaeva ) is the longest-lived life form on Earth. According to our trail brochure, in 1957 Dr. Edward Schulman, searching for climate records in tree rings, increment bored a tree from this same grove. Upon counting the rings under a microscope back at camp, he nearly shouted at his colleague, “we’ve got a 4,000-plus tree.” It was later dated to be over 4,600 years old. Schulman na...

Wrapped in the cozy warmth of a down bag I’m jolted awake from a deep slumber - nature calls. The silence is shattered by the rustle of my sleeping bag. The sweet aroma of the mountain fills the air, and that ever-present biting crisp air on your cheeks!  The zipper moans as you free yourself, then the struggle to find your wool sweater, pants, and shoes to stumble into the brisk morning air. Another zipper whines as you crawl to escape the protection of your mountain shelter. Quietly . . .  do not disturb  is the invisible sign worn by your fellow campers. Photo: Robert Weldon Darkness surrounds you, it's early morning, late summer. It’s tranquil, except for the soft gurgle of the trout stream that lulled you to sleep the night before.  Finally - clear weather, the rains have stopped; millions of stars twinkle like tiny sparkling diamonds against a pitch-black sky. Orion, the hunter is clearly visible in the eastern sky; careful inspection you can see ...