Our breakfast table and chairs are large smooth rocks rising out of the middle of this mountain stream. Ireland creek rushes down from behind us, splashes all around us, and then falls away into the valley below. Distant mountains rise up beyond where the stream disappears. I can’t imagine a better place to have breakfast. I feel so grateful to be here in such beauty.
Scotty starts off with a bigger load today, to give my back a break. It’s humbling, but I admit we’ll do better if I have a lighter load. Our trail is tough as we continue to climb to higher altitudes. It seems like this upward direction will never end. My body is sore, and my breath labored, and yet I feel awesome. I have such a sense of peace and joy. This is exactly where I want to be right now, hiking up a back country trail with my son.
By noon we finally reach the highest point, well over 10,000 feet. Off to the right of our trail is the peak. We make a spontaneous decision to drop our packs and make our own trail to the top. The view is amazing up here! In every direction are distant mountain peaks and valleys. Father, your creation is breathtaking. Up here the wind is strong and cold, and our packs down below could be discovered by a wild animal and dragged away, so we don’t stay long on the peak.
Dark clouds are closing in, so we set a fast pace toward our goal for a lunch stop, Evelyn Lake. We arrive and set up the fly quickly, climbing inside just as the rain hits. We fix lunch under our shelter and take naps as the rain hammers us. Inside the fly we stay nice and dry.
A light shower continues as we hit the trail again, knowing we need to put in at least another 4 miles before stopping for the night. It’s mostly a slight down hill trail now, so we make good time. The sky clears again after a few miles, and we discover a beautiful lake at the foot of towering cliffs. High above us the snow becomes a stream, and that stream becomes a waterfall that cascades down into this lake. Time for a break to enjoy this quiet, peaceful place.
Back on the trail again, we pass the High Sierra Camp, which is exactly what I imagine an old gold mining settlement would have been like. We take in the noise and smells of a large group of people having dinner inside an old weather beaten building. We move on, looking for a good camp site further down the mountain near a lake or stream.
No luck finding a camp site near water. It’s dark now, so we settle for a spot in a meadow. The high altitude we reached earlier is now affecting my stomach . While Scotty eats dinner, I’m losing lunch. A cloud covered sky makes the darkness even darker. As if waiting for dinner to end, the rain comes suddenly, and we sleep all night to it’s constant patter above our heads.
Lord, thank you for the little things, like a dry warm tent on a cold rainy night.
Posted on
Sat, August 22, 2009
by Chris Spitters