HST7

We had lunch and a lovely rest at Precipice Lake (have you figured out yet that we're the laziest hikers in the world?), and finally decided to tackle the Gap. After another 200 feet or so, we found ourselves walking through meadows that looked like photographs I've seen of arctic tundras. The wind was sharp and cool, and the sun seemed to have no power to bake us. the trail sank deep into the earth, and was occasionally punctutated by rectangular slabs of stone. The Gap rose around us on either side.

The Kahweah meadows stretched the length of the Gap, which was just a narrow valley that ended between two peaks. Small streams and ponds made black indentations in the ground, the turf forming a sharply defined edge alongside them. I had only seen turf like this in photographs, and I couldn't stop looking at everything as we passed through.

As we approached the end, we noticed two teenage boys stretching alongside the trail. We threw down our packs at the trail peak, and started chatting. Turned out they were with a group that was also headed to Whitney. They had planned on making a loop of it, but two of their group had gotten altitude sickness and they had decided to just slow down and make it a one-way hike. The boys had been sent back to get the cars and go around to hike in from Whitney and meet the group along the trail. As we spoke, I suddenly realized that the boys were from the Long Beach group! They told us their group was camped in Big Arroyo. We parted ways, and headed down the trail into the valley.

The trail into the valley was beautiful as well - similar to the terrain in the Gap, but rockier, and with large patches of a fucshia-red succulent grass. There were sections of the trail that were surreally beautiful, and how i wish that I'd had a camera that could have conveyed the beauty to you. Next time, I will own a real camera. My solemn promise to myself. We were also swarmed by grasshoppers - hundreds of them, hopping wildly away with every step we took. I felt like the Queen of the Locusts.

The fields went on and on, and the trail sunk several inches deeper. Finally trees appeared, and the terrain returned to forest. We found Big Arroyo campground, where we were utterly alone. We took the best campsite and settled in. There is an old log cabin there, but the sign on it only asked us not to touch it - nothing about who built it or when.

Night came quickly, and we stretched out on another huge, smooth rock and watched the stars come out. Somewhere, far downstream, we heard a clanging noise that lasted a long time. I wondered if it was someone chasing off a bear - we hadn't seen any bears yet, and I was suddenly nervous. Yawning, we went to bed.

Sometime in the night we were awakened by a tremendous clamour outside the tent. It sounded like someone beating two metal pots together, and we could hear hooves clattering across the rocky trail. I was terrififed, but we both scrambled up and peeked outside. We saw nothing, but the clanging continued. We grabbed our Mini-Mags and went out to investigate. We saw large eyes shining by the creekbed, and after an endless age of creeping closer and closer, we finally figured out what the noise was. Mules and horses, one with a huge cowbell around its neck.

I stomped down to run them off and they all scattered, except for one massive horse who came over to sniff me. Probably hoped I had some sweet oats for him. When I turned out to be a disappointment, he ambled off to join his equine buddies, while we stumbled back to our tent for a night of restless sleep.