Images of Day 3- 2005

Notice Sarah doesn't really give a crap about small bridges... note: girls CAN be strong leaders.

And my dad leading Mac across...

Day 2 & 3 - 2005

Day 2
We got up really early and out really early. Went up the pass and along the trail, looong day, but nice conversations kept the trail moving beneath our feet. Vick met up with us to send invitations for a party the trail crew wanted to host for tomorrow night. He gave me cookies as a "peace offering". When we set up camp, things got busy in the kitchen, what with everybody wanting to help. No rain, but a lot of lightning filled the sky. I began to realize that being chef made me fairly powerful- no one piss me off, for an angry cook is your worst enemy. boo yah.



Day 3
We decided to only go as far as Rock Creek, so it was a very short day of hiking on an easy, flat trail, covered by tall pines. The burrows had trouble making it across the little "bridge" in a meadow that was covering a muddy dip in the tall grass. We had to separate them and lead them across one at a time. Burrow, Sarah had no problem, but others like Mac weren't as ballsy. Dad had to hitch Mac and lead him across, but Mac pulled his chin up and refused to move for a while, looking reminescent of the tanning lotion baby and the dog pulling on it's diaper. Dad took a lot of slow steps, and after plenty of sweet talk, Mac got bored and moved forward. Ironically enough, they all skampered across the previous bridge above a roaring river with ease. Burrows. Once we set up camp, we kicked back and dipped in a nearby stream. The quiet moments of reading under passing clouds never finds it's way into my journal, but that is what we did. The air grew colder and we began to prep for a High Sierra-style party with the trail crew. It began with beer and sweater-wearing, evolved to speghetti and jackets and finally after a short dessert with thicker socks and wool hats, we settled in around the campfire to listen to our favorite banjo-playing trailcrew member. It was great, as he harmoniously plucked, the fire crackled and surly campers joked, I imagined myself as a cowgirl, roughing it and not caring about a thing in the world other than what the weather would be like the next day.

2005 - Day One

Driving in, small clouds grew into a dark rainy sky in less than an hour. I packed the kitchen with lots of help: I'm cook while Flora's the kitchen manager. I got most of the packing done, the sky clears, the Taylors arrive at trail head and we set out on the trail! No rain once we're in camp. Set up is easy since we have a burger dinner and I get used to the whole high maintenance night routine once again and recall how much I dislike it. Waiting for the last person to lightly sugar their last tea, and then finally packing everything tightly into the burrow's steel boxes and canvas bags, covering them with canvas sheets and then topping them with pots and pans to alert us if a bear prys for food. It is usually away from the campfire so I use my headlight, finish up and return to the crackling dialogue. Everybody gets along really well - a REALLY nice bunch.

I miss the mountains

By the look on their faces, people don't seem to understand what I mean when I say that I've hiked the California High Sierras. They probably picture me signing in to a standard campground in Yosemite Valley and taking short day hikes. But what I really mean, and want you to know, is that I've hiked all over the mountain ranges, deep into the valleys and across divides, for 22-23 days at a time. I've been to a place where my life is distant, complete darkness exists at night, complete silence is possible, human traces are sometimes not found at all, and the night sky is a deeper pool, full of billions of stars not visible anywhere else in the world.