 |
|
 |
 |
 |
| Day 2 - isn't it over yet? |
| But all things must pass, and so did our perfect afternoon. We retrieved the packs and began the long, steady ascent up the rocky face above Lone Pine Creek. It wasn't as bad as it looked, and we made decent time up, although there was no cover for a while. Thank heaven for trees, they showed up just in time. The trail leveled out and turned around the curve of the mountainside. We could see that the trail dropped again, which always makes me groan. A climber passed us, heading the other way, and we felt pangs of jealousy as we looked at the valley just below us. To our unschooled eyes, it looked like these granite walls would provide weeks of climbing fun. The trail pressed on, and we saw that we were headed for a broad, rust-colored rock shelf with a trickling waterfall winking in the late afternoon sunshine. |
| Above: Honestly, I can't remember exactly where these rocks are, but they must have been somewhere along the valley leading up to Hamilton Lakes. |
| Left: a photo that only hints at the halcyon grandeur of this little oasis. This creek flows form Hamilton, and just to the left is where it flows out over the round, rusty rock and down into the Kahweah River. We sat on thrones of pine root and felt like royalty. |
| When we reached that rock, it was as if a spell was cast on us. The sun shone in low and golden, the water sang a song that I knew by heart, and the pine roots had deliberately formed perfect chairs in the dust, to tempt and waylay careless hikers. How could we not stop? Dan made an excuse that we needed more water, but I knew the truth - he was bewitched as well. Off came the shoes and our feet splashed in water that slipped around our ankles like cool silk. I heard a different tune coming from just upstream, so I waded through the shallow pools and came to a perfect swimming hole with a trickle coming down from above. I had the presence of mind to take a photo, which you can see on the right. After a quick snack, we managed to shake off the enchantment and summon the will to pick up our packs. Onward to Hamilton Lakes. |
| Above: a handsome little fall and perfect swimming hole. |
| Left: Hamilton Lake at sunset. That's a little rock island right in front. The lake bed was all granite. |
| Up and onward, and the sun slipped down faster and faster. We saw the first of the two lakes, below the trail, and it was beautiful. Clear and green, fading into dark, impenetrable blue. We could even see the trout in the shallower sections. When we finally arrived at the campground, we took the only open site, next to our neighbors from 9-Mile Creek. The day began to fade, so we cooked dinner as the sun set and the bats began to sweep by overhead. The stars came out, followed by the moon, and we sat back on a huge granite rock and watched the mountains turn silver around us. It was a good night. |