High Sierra camp was really interesting. I'd never seen a camp quite like it, at least not in person. It's close to the edge of a rough, sloped cliff, and along the edge, about 20 or 30 feet back, there are tent cabins. They look out across the valley and to a specatcular display of granite erosion (see the picture right above). There is a shower hut, and the water heater is really just an old woodburning stove. I watched a lovely woman with shoulder-length hair of pure silver as she scooped out the previous days' ashes. There is a wooden cookhouse with a canvas roof, and from inside I could hear music blazing. Dave Matthews Band, followed by what sounded like AC/DC. It was the last recorded music I would hear for another 9 days, but I heard plenty in my own head as we hiked.
There was a lovely log cabin (see photo above), along with some far less lovely but more modern structures. I assume they house the rangers. Large propane tanks were propped against the south side of the cabin. Dan and I sat on a large stump and nibbled our snacks as the guests and the rangers went through their morning rituals.
Finally we dragged ourselves up and shrugged on those dreadful packs. The trail was lovely, sun-dappled and clear, but as the sun drew higher we began to drink more. We were glad to be coming up on Lone Pine Creek soon, since the map didn't show any reliable water sources before then. The trail then cut into a bare rock face, and we began to bake in the midday sun. |
