Wilderness wanderer
Where do you come from
Where do you go
Who have you met as you wander
Through forests green
Over mountains tall
Across ocean like prairies
And from sea to spreading sea

Your footprints span continents
Your soul reaches across galaxies
What wonders have your eyes beheld
During your travels across the infinite expanse

stonebreath.bandcamp.com/track/twelve-moons

Tags:   wilderness wanderer wilderness wandering backpacking camping hiking resting forest mist fog cloulds rain trees trail path sitting landscape black and white high sierra jennie lake sequoia kings canyon california portrait

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Day 39
Part 1
Once again I shivered all through the long night with little sleep. Had I been in an area with wood to burn I would have built a fire to stay warm, but up here above the timberline there is none, only grass covered tundra.
Nature is not cruel, nor hateful or spiteful. She does not care whether humans are within her hearth or not. She will do what she pleases as the wheel of the seasons forever turn. All we can do to is be respectful and enter prepared. The rains will come, the winds blow and the snows fall; the sun will beat down and scorch the unsheltered, or the breathe of ice and frost will descend and life must adapt, and there is nothing we can do.
...
At dawn's light I forced myself to brave the freezing air as I headed outside for sunrise photography. The sky was void of all clouds and again the frosts had collected on every surface as winters spirit breathed upon the earth. The tarn was still and mirror like in the pale light. The frosty grass crunched underfoot as I walked down to the shore. I was surprised that there wasn't more ice encasing it's dark depths. The only ice that there was was clustered around the grasses that touched the still water.
While waiting for the first, warm rays of light to grace the high peaks my toes grew cold inside my boots, even though I had multiple socks on each foot. My fingers too were cold but at least I could hold them in my armpits for warmth, or breathe on them through my gloves. Soon a thin line of warm pink light appeared along the ridge line to the south. I snapped a few photos and waited for it to grow and descend down the slopes but the angle of this ridge and the mountains rising in the east did not allow that to happen. By now my toes had become numb and no amount of stomping, jumping or running in place could restore their feeling. I waited a bit longer while watching the light but nothing changed, so I retreated back into my tent and sleeping bag to return the life back to my painfully numb toes. Once inside my sleeping bag I took my socks off and rubbed my toes between my hands until the blood returned to them and the cold left. Then I attempted to go back to sleep until suntouch.
…
Once the warm sunlight reached my tent I crawled back outside. By this time the good photogenic light had passed so there wasn't much to shoot. I made breakfasts and consulted my map. There are two other small tarns that I would like to stay at, both are at a higher elevation than where I am now. The first (11025) is in this same basin and would only have good light at sunset. The second is a small cluster of little tarns (11270) at an even higher elevation on the other side of the pass I am going over today. They are on the eastern slope of Amelia Earhart Peak (11974) and overlook Lyell Canyon and Kuna Crest, and should have good light at both sunrise and set. Because I have been miserably cold the last two nights I don't really want to go up higher in elevation to the first one where the temperature is sure to be colder so that rules out one. Once I reach the cluster later today I will decide on whether or not I will stay there. If not, Lake Ireland (10735) will be my destination.
Once breakfast was eaten and everything packed up I headed back to the tarn that I explored to yesterday before the snowstorm. Here I began what was probably going to be the last cross country pass of this journey. As I started climbing up the mountainside the two tarns grew smaller and a third one appeared out from behind the landscape. The white rounded peak of Half Dome poked out from behind the ridge that became Vogelsang Peak. Up over more talus I climbed as Gallison lake appeared as a blue gemstone set into a plate of gold.
I tried to stick to the green patches woven into the talus where yarrow and sedge grass grew, and when those lost their foothold I made my way over to an outcropping of steep slabs that required me to use my hands as well. The steepness made the going slow but I pushed on ahead. After thirty-eight days out here I am well adjusted to the thin air of of the high mountains, but these steep passes still have me gasping for breath, though it has become easier. I continued inching my way up and it wasn't long before I could see the crest of the pass just above me. Once I reached it I dropped pack and took a well deserved rest to enjoy the view. The chain of three tarns stretched onto the distance with half dome rising far beyond. The tarn I was contemplating staying at just barely visible behind a crumbling ridge.
My boots were almost new before I left and now they were really beat to hell, their leather pealing and the stitching coming undone. These were a really comfortable, reliable pair of boots. I only got one blister this entire time journey. Before I left my dad recommended that at some point I should get a photo of my boots atop a cross country pass or next to a lake, so I waited until this last pass to do that. I took them off, my socks too, and connected to the earth beneath my bare feet. I placed my shoes on a rock and took a few photos. Then I sat for a while enjoying a light breeze that cooled my feet.

Tags:   landscape backpacking hiking climbing wilderness yosemite lake tarn cross country boots shoes reliable high sierra tarns mountains half dome distance view california high elevation rock rocks earth

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Day 29
Part 2
After I got the shots I wanted I headed back to camp, Logan following me. Once we reached our tents I took down mine, packed up my gear and made myself breakfast. The warm sun had now touched where we were, and although its light warmed the air, the breeze was still blowing cold. After eating I was ready to start hiking for the day , but the four of them were not.
While they were packing up and figuring out which meals to eat for breakfast, I lied down in a patch of tall grass that grew close to where my tent had been set up. As I lay, the sun warmed me and the tall, swaying grass sheltered me from the cold blasts wind.
Finally the four of them were ready, and we headed out. Working our way around Minaret Lake (9798) we reached the far shore. Here we followed the trail through a meadow and along a creek. As we reached the far side of the meadow willows closed in and overgrew the trail. We pushed our way through as the trail gradually inclined, with Minaret Lake shrinking away below and into the distance with the elevation gain. As soon as we broke through the willows the trail turned into loose rocks and scree. From here on the trail was no longer maintained and faded in and out. Then the climb became steeper.
Going first, I climbed, hands and feet, up the rocky path. Clare and Marissa followed second and third, Logan and Todd brought up the rear. After each part that required finding handholds I stopped and offered a hand to whoever needed it. Once they were pulled up to a safe, sturdy spot I pushed on ahead. This continued until we reached the top. From here we could see Cecile Lake (10239) with Clyde Minaret rising sharply above it's deep greenish blue waters.
It was here that we took a break. Todd and Logan got out their fishing poles and headed down to the lake shore to fish. While they were fishing Marissa was saying that she was hungry so I offered to cook one of the fish the two guys had caught at Minaret Lake. She pulled it out of Todd's pack. I boiled it and the two girls and myself ate. After we ate the three of us joined Todd and Logan at the lakeside. They had already caught two fish and as we watched they caught two more. After the four fish were caught we headed back up to our packs and continued on.
We worked our way around the north shore, hoping over large blocks of granite. Some of the blocks moved under our weight which made the two girls nervous. I offered my hiking poles to them to help them feel more secure and only Clare accepted my offer. Once we reached the far end of the lake and where the route down was, I was finally able to gaze down onto the dark blue waters of Iceberg Lake (9774), 465 ft below me. Iceberg Lake has a large wedge of granite that juts out into it forming a peninsula, which I'm assuming gives the lake it's name, since it has a grayish white color and kind of resembles the appearance an iceberg.
From here we began our decent to Iceberg Lake. At first the climb down was steep, over hard packed dirt covered by loose, slippery pebbles, with rock out croppings on our right side that worked well as hand holds. In this particular section we were guided by a primitive trail. As we worked our way down, Logan and Todd blazed on ahead, while Clare and Marissa took their time, followed by myself. After we climbed down that steepest section we could level out our routes and the primitive trail became broken and not easily followed as it appeared in multiple places at once as a kind of “choose your own path” and eventually disappearing altogether and turning into cairns every dozen feet or so. The hard packed dirt of the decent morphed into talus that dominated the steep terrain for the rest of the way until we reached the far side of Iceberg Lake, where we were greeted and relieved of our struggles by soft grass and a few small trees.

Tags:   backpacking hiking camping climbing talus high sierra iceberg lake slope lake granite steep people minarets spires jagged Mountains

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*# indicates a photo
Day 18
That was one hell of a night to go without socks. Once the clouds cleared the temperature dropped below freezing. All the puddles from yesterdays rain are frozen and so is all the mud. There is a thin layer of ice inside my tent from condensation and outside my tent too from dew. My water bottles are also frozen.
When I woke up, before venturing out side I layered up to stay warm. I grabbed my camera gear and headed outside. Carl was still sleeping in his tent. I walked over to the spot I had seen yesterday and waited for the sun to illuminate the ridge. The melt-water pond was not completely frozen, it was only frozen around the edges. As I waited I kept moving to stay warm. The ice ringing the pond was growing as I watched and by the time the first rays of morning light touched the ridgeline the ice had doubled in size.
*1 By the time I had finished photographing it had doubled again. I went back to the tents, by now the entire west side of the pass was illuminated. Carl was now up and taking his own photos. I boiled water for tea and offered him some. He accepted.
The sunlight finally reached our tents and two large rocks next to them. Both of us lied out our wet, frozen clothes on one of the rocks to dry them out and on the other large rock we draped the rain flies from our tents to defrost and dry.
It was at this point that I reached into my pack to get my toilet paper and just like my socks last night, it too was wet. I had planned on staying in six more days, but if my waterproof pack cover isn't working and my stuff is getting wet and if we get more storms, I can't stay in longer. I need to exit and get a new pack cover before continuing. Don't get me wrong, I'm loving all this weather, the rain, clouds, lighting and hail, I want more but I cant have my stuff getting wet, especially my socks and toilet paper, both of which are essential. (I do keep my TP in a ziplock bag, but it must have developed a hole)
Carl is exiting toady at Pine Creek. I told him my situation, and asked if I could hike out with him and get a ride to whatever town he was headed to.
He said that would be fine and that he was headed to Mammoth Lakes, exactly where I needed to go, so that was perfect. He then handed me some of his toilet paper.
Once our tents were dry, and our clothes were as good as there were going to get, we packed up and headed back to the scree slope between our camping area and the tarn we sheltered at yesterday. *2 We climbed steeply up to the top, following a barely visible path, that I had not noticed before, that was covered in patches of hail from the previous day's storms.
At the top the terrain leveled out and we hiked through the bed of a dried up tarn.
He pointed to a peak off in the distance, "There's Mt. Julius Caesar (13199), and that saddle just this side is Italy Pass, that's where we're headed."
We hiked a ways further and the terrain sloped down on our left and rose up to a ridge on the right. Here we stopped to examine the terrain and plan the best route over larges talus blocks and multiple snow fields. Carl pointed out a "bench" that contoured the ridgeline and lead directly to Italy Pass. "That looks like the best route, what do you think?" He said, looking at me.
"Yeah, looks good." I replied.
We started to make our way towards it. *3 Ahead of us lay a snow field that covered the slope and we would need to cross it. It's glistening, sculpted surface was a hard crust from the freezing temperatures last night, not yet softened up by the warmth of the sun today. One slip and nothing would stop you until you hit the talus below. He went first, carving each footstep into the snow before taking the next, while using his trekking poles to steady himself. I followed, stepping where he stepped. Slowly we worked our way across. Once we reached the other side we aimed for the bench.
We rock hopped over talus, crossed a few more snow fields. Then we came to an area of slabs, multiple trickles of water flowed out of the cracks that crisscrossed them, making them just as slippery as the snow fields. Then after that was behind us more talus awaited us.
Finally we reached Italy Pass (12400), where we stopped for a break. To the east lay Granite Park, two blue lakes dominated the the landscape, a ridge rising beyond them. We could see where yesterdays storms had dumped their hail, some mountainsides had a dusting of white while others did not.
Carl took a chocolate bar out of his pack, broke a piece of it off and handed it to me, “I was saving this for this moment, a sort of... victory snack.”
“Thank you,” I said sticking it in my mouth, “Ooo super dark and bitter, my favorite.”
“Not many People like their chocolate this dark,” he said, “nice to see someone else appreciates it as much as me.”
We began hiking down the east side of the pass into Granite Park. Before we got too far we came across another backpacker headed up. He asked, “Hows the terrain on the west side going down to the lake, I hear its treacherous?”
“Lake Italy?” I asked
“Yeah.”
Carl explained, “We came form Bear Lakes, so I cant say. But there is lots of talus.”
We talked with him a bit longer, then continued on.
Granite park was not what either of us expected from the name. We both were expecting lots and lots of slabs, but it was talus and boulder fields, just like everywhere else. As we continued the terrain changed into grass covered meadows with meandering creeks snaking through them. The trail followed their edge. The creek would then drop by waterfall and cascade into another meadow. While the trail switch-backed down. There must have been at least five levels to the meadows and waterfalls. We both added these meadows to our list of places to come back to.
The meadowlands turned into forest and we eventually reached Honeymoon lake (10435) and the trail junction just below it. If I had to estimate the time, I would say we reached here around 1:30 or 2:00 and so far not a single cloud was to be seen. I might have been able to have stayed in and continued instead of exiting, but I’d rather be safe than sorry, plus my toilet paper is still soggy. We turned left and continued downhill to Upper Pine Lake then on to Lower Pine Lake (9942). After that the forest ended and there was a long downhill stretch of unshaded trail that hugged the contour of the mountain as it descended and switch backed the last 2062 ft to the trailhead. That particular stretch of trail seemed annoyingly long. Carl's pack was significantly lighter than mine, as he had eaten all his food, I still had about 6 days worth of food left. After about 10 miles of hiking there was about 2 miles left, even though it was all down hill from here, the weight of my pack was starting to slow me down. We stopped for a long break at the now closed Brownstone Mine. Then continued and reached a creek gushing from a spring where we filled up on desperately needed water. After that we reached the end of the unshaded section, as a thick forest closed in around the trail. Just beyond the forest was the parking lot (7880) at Pine Creek trailhead. Carl was already there waiting for me.
There was no cell service at the parking lot so he drove down to the tiny community of Rovana where he pulled over and we both made numerous phone calls to friends and family informing them we were still alive. I have a GPS beacon that updates my positions on a map every few minutes so friends and family can track my progress, it also has an S.O.S. button if I need search and rescue. It does not show me anything except a flashing green light when it is transmitting. Every one I called had gotten worried when I deviated from my planed route, so I had to reassure everyone that I was fine, but a failing pack cover and wet toilet paper made me have to change plans. (All of my navigating on this journey has been done with only a topographical map and matching that with the terrain around me. I have no compass and the GPS beacon I have does nothing to help me navigate, it is purely for the piece of mind of those back home, and mine if I screw up bad enough to need an extraction.) After the reconnection with the world, we headed to Mammoth Lakes.
Once we reached town Carl asked me, “Before I drop you off I'm assuming you'd want to get some food?”
“Yes please” I answered.
We stopped at his favorite place, Mammoth Tavern. I ordered a bacon cheeseburger with a side of sweet potato fries, and I asked for a bottle of hot sauce. The burger was cooked rare, so rare that the middle was almost raw and was oozing. It was the best damn burger I've ever had. After dinner he drove me over to the mammoth RV park. I payed for a campground. Then both of us went to the pool and soaked in the jacuzzi until the pool closed. Then I thanked him and we went our separate ways.
I was on trail for six day, it was suppose to be 12-13 days, it stormed for four of the six days, today not a single cloud anywhere in the sky.

...
When my grandparents meet me six days ago in Bishop and gave me a ride to the trailhead at North Lake, they offered to give me a ride to Mammoth instead so I wouldn’t have to hike there. My response was “Why?” That would defeat the purpose of why I came out here; to hike among the sculpted temples of granite, the low forested cathedrals of the river valleys and to swim in the alpine lakes (or at least attempt to, most have been to cold), to breathe the cleanest air and sleep under the watchful gaze of innumerable stars, to bask in the silence and solitude of this vast wilderness and of course to bare witness to unmatched landscapes and vistas and to capture those great views in photographs. There is no other place I'd rather be and nothing else I’d rather be doing.
...

Tags:   Backpacking hiking snow camping mountains talus wilderness moonscape mt. Julius Caeser Italy pass people mountain landscape terrain high sierra kings canyon

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*# indicates a photo
Day 18
That was one hell of a night to go without socks. Once the clouds cleared the temperature dropped below freezing. All the puddles from yesterdays rain are frozen and so is all the mud. There is a thin layer of ice inside my tent from condensation and outside my tent too from dew. My water bottles are also frozen.
When I woke up, before venturing out side I layered up to stay warm. I grabbed my camera gear and headed outside. Carl was still sleeping in his tent. I walked over to the spot I had seen yesterday and waited for the sun to illuminate the ridge. The melt-water pond was not completely frozen, it was only frozen around the edges. As I waited I kept moving to stay warm. The ice ringing the pond was growing as I watched and by the time the first rays of morning light touched the ridgeline the ice had doubled in size.
*1 By the time I had finished photographing it had doubled again. I went back to the tents, by now the entire west side of the pass was illuminated. Carl was now up and taking his own photos. I boiled water for tea and offered him some. He accepted.
The sunlight finally reached our tents and two large rocks next to them. Both of us lied out our wet, frozen clothes on one of the rocks to dry them out and on the other large rock we draped the rain flies from our tents to defrost and dry.
It was at this point that I reached into my pack to get my toilet paper and just like my socks last night, it too was wet. I had planned on staying in six more days, but if my waterproof pack cover isn't working and my stuff is getting wet and if we get more storms, I can't stay in longer. I need to exit and get a new pack cover before continuing. Don't get me wrong, I'm loving all this weather, the rain, clouds, lighting and hail, I want more but I cant have my stuff getting wet, especially my socks and toilet paper, both of which are essential. (I do keep my TP in a ziplock bag, but it must have developed a hole)
Carl is exiting toady at Pine Creek. I told him my situation, and asked if I could hike out with him and get a ride to whatever town he was headed to.
He said that would be fine and that he was headed to Mammoth Lakes, exactly where I needed to go, so that was perfect. He then handed me some of his toilet paper.
Once our tents were dry, and our clothes were as good as there were going to get, we packed up and headed back to the scree slope between our camping area and the tarn we sheltered at yesterday. *2 We climbed steeply up to the top, following a barely visible path, that I had not noticed before, that was covered in patches of hail from the previous day's storms.
At the top the terrain leveled out and we hiked through the bed of a dried up tarn.
He pointed to a peak off in the distance, "There's Mt. Julius Caesar (13199), and that saddle just this side is Italy Pass, that's where we're headed."
We hiked a ways further and the terrain sloped down on our left and rose up to a ridge on the right. Here we stopped to examine the terrain and plan the best route over larges talus blocks and multiple snow fields. Carl pointed out a "bench" that contoured the ridgeline and lead directly to Italy Pass. "That looks like the best route, what do you think?" He said, looking at me.
"Yeah, looks good." I replied.
We started to make our way towards it. *3 Ahead of us lay a snow field that covered the slope and we would need to cross it. It's glistening, sculpted surface was a hard crust from the freezing temperatures last night, not yet softened up by the warmth of the sun today. One slip and nothing would stop you until you hit the talus below. He went first, carving each footstep into the snow before taking the next, while using his trekking poles to steady himself. I followed, stepping where he stepped. Slowly we worked our way across. Once we reached the other side we aimed for the bench.
We rock hopped over talus, crossed a few more snow fields. Then we came to an area of slabs, multiple trickles of water flowed out of the cracks that crisscrossed them, making them just as slippery as the snow fields. Then after that was behind us more talus awaited us.
Finally we reached Italy Pass (12400), where we stopped for a break. To the east lay Granite Park, two blue lakes dominated the the landscape, a ridge rising beyond them. We could see where yesterdays storms had dumped their hail, some mountainsides had a dusting of white while others did not.
Carl took a chocolate bar out of his pack, broke a piece of it off and handed it to me, “I was saving this for this moment, a sort of... victory snack.”
“Thank you,” I said sticking it in my mouth, “Ooo super dark and bitter, my favorite.”
“Not many People like their chocolate this dark,” he said, “nice to see someone else appreciates it as much as me.”
We began hiking down the east side of the pass into Granite Park. Before we got too far we came across another backpacker headed up. He asked, “Hows the terrain on the west side going down to the lake, I hear its treacherous?”
“Lake Italy?” I asked
“Yeah.”
Carl explained, “We came form Bear Lakes, so I cant say. But there is lots of talus.”
We talked with him a bit longer, then continued on.
Granite park was not what either of us expected from the name. We both were expecting lots and lots of slabs, but it was talus and boulder fields, just like everywhere else. As we continued the terrain changed into grass covered meadows with meandering creeks snaking through them. The trail followed their edge. The creek would then drop by waterfall and cascade into another meadow. While the trail switch-backed down. There must have been at least five levels to the meadows and waterfalls. We both added these meadows to our list of places to come back to.
The meadowlands turned into forest and we eventually reached Honeymoon lake (10435) and the trail junction just below it. If I had to estimate the time, I would say we reached here around 1:30 or 2:00 and so far not a single cloud was to be seen. I might have been able to have stayed in and continued instead of exiting, but I’d rather be safe than sorry, plus my toilet paper is still soggy. We turned left and continued downhill to Upper Pine Lake then on to Lower Pine Lake (9942). After that the forest ended and there was a long downhill stretch of unshaded trail that hugged the contour of the mountain as it descended and switch backed the last 2062 ft to the trailhead. That particular stretch of trail seemed annoyingly long. Carl's pack was significantly lighter than mine, as he had eaten all his food, I still had about 6 days worth of food left. After about 10 miles of hiking there was about 2 miles left, even though it was all down hill from here, the weight of my pack was starting to slow me down. We stopped for a long break at the now closed Brownstone Mine. Then continued and reached a creek gushing from a spring where we filled up on desperately needed water. After that we reached the end of the unshaded section, as a thick forest closed in around the trail. Just beyond the forest was the parking lot (7880) at Pine Creek trailhead. Carl was already there waiting for me.
There was no cell service at the parking lot so he drove down to the tiny community of Rovana where he pulled over and we both made numerous phone calls to friends and family informing them we were still alive. I have a GPS beacon that updates my positions on a map every few minutes so friends and family can track my progress, it also has an S.O.S. button if I need search and rescue. It does not show me anything except a flashing green light when it is transmitting. Every one I called had gotten worried when I deviated from my planed route, so I had to reassure everyone that I was fine, but a failing pack cover and wet toilet paper made me have to change plans. (All of my navigating on this journey has been done with only a topographical map and matching that with the terrain around me. I have no compass and the GPS beacon I have does nothing to help me navigate, it is purely for the piece of mind of those back home, and mine if I screw up bad enough to need an extraction.) After the reconnection with the world, we headed to Mammoth Lakes.
Once we reached town Carl asked me, “Before I drop you off I'm assuming you'd want to get some food?”
“Yes please” I answered.
We stopped at his favorite place, Mammoth Tavern. I ordered a bacon cheeseburger with a side of sweet potato fries, and I asked for a bottle of hot sauce. The burger was cooked rare, so rare that the middle was almost raw and was oozing. It was the best damn burger I've ever had. After dinner he drove me over to the mammoth RV park. I payed for a campground. Then both of us went to the pool and soaked in the jacuzzi until the pool closed. Then I thanked him and we went our separate ways.
I was on trail for six day, it was suppose to be 12-13 days, it stormed for four of the six days, today not a single cloud anywhere in the sky.

...
When my grandparents meet me six days ago in Bishop and gave me a ride to the trailhead at North Lake, they offered to give me a ride to Mammoth instead so I wouldn’t have to hike there. My response was “Why?” That would defeat the purpose of why I came out here; to hike among the sculpted temples of granite, the low forested cathedrals of the river valleys and to swim in the alpine lakes (or at least attempt to, most have been to cold), to breathe the cleanest air and sleep under the watchful gaze of innumerable stars, to bask in the silence and solitude of this vast wilderness and of course to bare witness to unmatched landscapes and vistas and to capture those great views in photographs. There is no other place I'd rather be and nothing else I’d rather be doing.
...

Tags:   hiking backpacking steep high sierra mountains mountain wilderness rugged people candid climb climbing lens flare rocks

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