Glenn Pass

Day 12  Wood’s Creek to Kearsarge Pass

               Sneaking out of camp with the morning mists this morning felt very stealthy.  Our cigar smoking, scotch drinking neighbors were still snoring and dreaming in their tents, and we were packed, fed and off before they even raised an eyelid.  They had been impressed yesterday when we told them we were going to do Glenn Pass today as they were only planning to go as far as the lake. It was difficult for them to conceive doing 15 miles in one day- it would take them three days to do that many miles.  Of course we make sacrifices to cover so much territory, little luxuries like sleeping in and drinking scotch, but we are able to see so much more of this beautiful wilderness by getting up early and hiking all day.  Sure it would be fun to hang out by the lake and fish, but everyone makes their own choices- “hike your own hike” as they say.

               Uphill all morning was really slow, but also really beautiful.  We are in the High Sierra still, even though we are no longer in Yosemite.  This area is a very popular weekend destination for people, the Rea Lakes loop being one of the first places people can hike in from the West side of the mountains, and I can sure see why.  The beautiful little alpine lakes are strung across the base of the mountains like inset jewels, set in green rather than gold.  The birds sing, the deer amble through, and the water is so clear you can see every little fish as it swims its way downstream. It is in some ways apparent that this area is well used by hikers of all sorts- there are big metal food lockers near the camping areas, fire pits sit in some of the camps, and we walked right by a Ranger Station out here in the middle of nowhere- but in other ways it is still very wild and pristine.  The trail through here is small and a little overgrown in places, there aren’t a lot of people visible- except for those fishermen down at the lake- and the place doesn’t have the usual signs of human occupation, such as trash and toilets.  We slowed our pace a little, not because the path was steep or difficult, but just because there was so much beauty to see. 

               We planned lunch at Rae lake- sometimes I wish I could carry a picnic basket and table cloth and all- but walked past the first and second Rae Lake and found a cozy spot near the third.  There were still fishermen about, but they left soon after we got there, hopefully because they were done in that area and not because we intruded.  Still, it was nice to have the place to ourselves.  Mark got out the tarp and curled up for a nap while the pudding was setting up, but as there was no room left for me and I wasn’t that tired anyway, I took a little time to explore.  We were on an outcropping that jutted out above the lake, and I was able to walk down around it to the shore below, but couldn’t quite climb back up the other side without risk.  I walked down the trail a bit to get a better look at the nearby islands, and found the isthmus where we would be crossing later.  Mark was still snoring away when I got back to our picnic spot, so I decided to go down to the lake and wash up.  I sat on a boulder sunning for a little while to get warm after that cold shock of water, feeling quite a bit like one of Peter Pan’s mermaids. My hat blew off in a gust of wind, and I was able to jump in and fetch it, but while doing so, left my shirt behind.  The wind decided that it liked the shirt, and gathered it up and tossed it onto the surface of the lake.  I watched in interest as the wind picked up the folded sleeves like sails, and scooted it quickly along, but knew I would have to act quickly if I was to get my shirt back. I couldn’t reach it with my arm, but maybe with my poles, so I ran up to get them, which woke Mark, and he followed me back down to see my lovely pink shirt blowing out to sea.  “Well, are you going to dive in after it?” he asked.  It was my only choice.  I could watch it slowly sink to the bottom- and the water was so clear I could have literally done that- or dive in and rescue it.  Not hesitating longer to think about it, I splashed in.  I had to swim out a ways to grab it, shivering all the while, and, with shirt in hand, swam proudly back to shore. 

               Now that Mark was awake it was time to move on, so we finished up our pudding, donned our wet clothes, and headed back to the trail crossing and on up to the pass.  I was expecting the climb to this pass to be as rocky and drab as the others had been, but I was pleasantly surprised to find rock springs, verdant growth and pocket lakes and meadows dotted all about the foot of the mountain.  What joy!  You can’t imagine what a lifter of your spirits it is to be slugging away on this hard, rocky trail and come around the corner to find wildflowers dancing in the wind and a trickling stream escorting the trail on up to the next bend.  It makes a tough journey almost pleasant (but you’re still breathing hard.) I found delight in identifying the wild beauties, checking to see where the stream was springing from, and looking ahead to see if I could tell where the next bend would lead. 

               There were a lot of trail crews out today.  We came around a corner to find one lone woman all dressed in green coveralls and a hard hat, sitting on the ground, pick in hand, hammering away at the trail.  They were taking out the pavers here to replace them with stone cribs (my current nemesis) because the horses on the trail avoid the stacked pavers and walk around them, causing trail erosion.  I, personally, think that they should find a better purpose for their sharp, blasted out shards of granite than pouring them all over the middle of the trail, even if they do make a stone hedge to hold them in, so I prefer the pavers to the cribs, but I do not have the same lobby power that horsemen associations do, so I will just have use the horses’ strategy and walk around the areas.  I am sure that one little hiker woman will not erode the trail the way a horse does.    Nonetheless, we greeted the trail woman kindly, visited for a few moments, and moved on up the trail.  An hour or so later we came upon a whole trail gang, taking a break from their arduous tasks.  Talking and laughing amongst themselves, this lot did not seem so friendly. They avoided eye contact with us, moved off the narrow trail as best as possible to let us squeeze by, and went right back to their raucous conversation as soon as we had passed them.  It wasn’t a big deal, except that I had to pee.  And there are no doors on the bathrooms out here.  When there is nothing but rocks on the landscape, it can take you a long time to find somewhere discreet and away from watchful eyes. Another lone worker was on the South side of the pass, and as we passed her she asked what time it was.  "oh good," was here answer.  "What time do you get off," we asked.  "Four, but it will take me the next half hour or so to walk back to camp."  I don't know, nor did i ask, how long they spent out here at a time, but one morning we passed a camp of sleeping trail crew- hammocks slung from trees, sleepy heads spilling out of tents, gnarly boots dropped all around.  One set of girls informed us that they get the weekends off- not that there is anywhere for them to go.  I am not sure if i would like working out here or not, but i can't imagine a more beautiful place to work.

               The last mile was tough- rocky, steep, dangerous.  We had to really focus.  Every once in a while we would look up though and try to figure out where the pass was on this broken ridge in front of us.  At one point we thought we saw a hiker walking along the ridge.  Nah- And then, Oh, yes, that is a person, but he doesn’t have a back pack on, so he must just be trying to do the peak or something.  As we got closer, and finally to the pass, we found the back pack, but not the hiker.  And we walked along the very narrow knife edged ridge, balancing with our poles, holding our breath most of the way.  We did not drop our packs or whoop or have high fives or toasts on this mountaintop.  We patiently and judiciously walked the several hundred feet of ridge until we came to the other side of the pass and stepped over the threshold and down the trail.  And then we breathed.  There were a lot of backpackers coming up the other side, and we were obliged to press ourselves against the mountainside more than once and let them pass.  One was an older Asian couple who smiled and bowed their heads at us- they were moving pretty slowly but surely under their bulging packs.  Two other couples and a small group passed us and I was very grateful that we were going down this side and not up it.  There was no vegetation, no trees, nothing to block them from the scorching midday sun. As we continued down, we could hear the whooping and hollering of those who had made it to the top. It’s amazing how far sound can travel across barren rock.    We squinted to see their silhouetted forms waving and dancing on the ridge high above.  Obviously they did not have issues with heights.

               We were both tired, hot and hungry.  Lunch had been nothing but pudding, hours ago, and we were out of crackers, cheese, granola bars… all things lunchy and easy.  There were no beautiful picnic spots on this side of the mountain- nothing but small pools of water and piles of rock.  We finally came to a nearly level spot near a clear pond and decided to cook dinner early.  I reluctantly went down and collected water, using the Steri Pen to make sure it would be free of bacteria and other nasties.  I haven’t used this ultra violet water sterilizing tool enough to really have confidence in it.  How do you know you’re killing off something you can’t see in the first place?  I turned it on, stirred it around in the water jars, hoped it was doing its job and returned to Mark’s perch. We were crabby and the food wasn’t very tasty, but we ate it because our bodies needed it.  He had been calorie deficient for a few days, and it was starting to effect his mood as well as his energy level. I could feel my mood profile line plunging again and tried to have a better attitude.  Mostly I just ate my meal and tried to keep quiet.  Since it wasn’t a very inviting location we weren’t tempted to stay too long. It was back on the road for us.