Our campsite was at a bit under 10,000 ft. We make a nice little compound, four little tents, around a fire pit and "kitchen" area. John, being not only a master fish-outsmarter, also builds a very fine campfire. Noel seems to enjoy keeping us all supplied with filtered water, and Clay has prepared the food supply, so he's the chef and my job is to keep my stove from exploding. I was only partially successful. But at least I did get it to work. Last year, it wouldn't. With the new parts I'd bought since, it worked usually only after a giant flare-up. No real harm done. Who needs arm hair?
Saturday, we decided to day-hike five-or six-hundred feet higher to see the other three lakes in the system--Harvey, Hooper and Neil. All the lakes are at different levels, all with at least one side against dramatic vertical rock rising thousands more feet. Neil, at the top, was shallow, with no fish, but lovely and warm enough to wade. Wildflowers were in full bloom and we munched our lunch at the edge under the glaciers. Except for John, who doesn't care about eating when there are fish to trick. He releases them all, by the way (except for the five delicious specimens we ate for dinner the second night). They look fine as they swim off, but I can't help but think that they're a bit embarrassed and resentful. Wiser, for sure.
We climbed back down to camp (without John, who--well, you know) and rested a little bit. Then it was time for frisbee golf, dinner, and more frisbee golf. We each, in turn, choose a "tee box" from which to launch, some far-off tree or rock or other natural feature as the "hole" to hit, decide par, and then play golf. I suck. I suppose it would help if I threw a frisbee more than once a year. But I love to play and they are kind enough not to laugh too much! Noel is most consistent and won both games this year. Clay and John do very well, also. Even with the mulligan I won with the ringer at the horseshoe pit, I came in way over par. But I had a few nice shots. And a bunch of fun. We play til dark.
Nights are magical. Super-bright stars, perfect mirror of a lake, beautiful fire and, often, popcorn and hot chocolate. Great company.
The original plan had been to stay in the backcountry three nights, and come out and drive home on the fourth day. But in the meantime, I'd found out that Rachel had a visitor from Chicago around the same time--Mike, a Person of Special Interest--whom Tom and I had not yet met. It would give me almost two days with them at our house, instead of less than one, if I could get home a day early. When I mentioned that I would try to hike out by myself on Sunday morning, suddenly, everyone thought that it was a good plan for themselves, as well.
So we did. Our knees and ankles took a pounding on and off the slippery trail, and we had forgotten to enter the exact coordinates of the trailhead on our gps's, so we floundered just a bit at the end (the actual trail being so hard to follow), but we came down in half the time.
We loaded up and drove the two Subies (ours and Clay's) down the mountain to a tiny place at the foot of the hills called Prather, from where our two vehicles would have to take different routes home. But there was a little cafe at the corner, where, dirty and beat-up, we went in and had hot sandwiches and french fries to mark the end of this year's adventure.
Seriously. Better companions for an adventure of any kind you will not find. Funny and smart and kind and crazy, the lot of them. Clay, the Adventure Architect, crafts a wondrous and memorable experience every time. I can barely even remember the misery...Thanks again, guys!!
So, we drove our separate ways.
Later that evening (next)...
