June 30th
Its a busy morning, with a big breakfast at the Hays Street café, internet, laundry, groceries, and the post office to attend to. Fortunately it’s a compact town, complete with everything a hiker needs. We all agree it would be a great trail town stop, if it weren’t a 45-mintue drive away from the pass.
Our room has quickly taken on that distinctive aroma that hikers and their gear get after a couple of months on the trail, amplified by several days of being soggy. A wet dog should smell so good.
Packing up, we leave the bear canisters with Jim and Henry. We are not out of “bear country,” but we have passed through the area notorious for problem bears and where the rangers will fine you for not carrying one. We had figured that having the canister gave us peace of mind, so that we could camp where we wanted instead of having to “stealth camp” to avoid Yogi, his cousins and the rangers. Either the canisters where useless, or they did their job – we saw no bears and no rangers in the High Sierras.
Coming out of the grocery store, in this small town, far from the trail, we run into a fellow hiker whom we all know, Marshall, and his wife Rosemary. They are heading to the south part of the Sierras. A surprisng reunion and worthy of staying around for lunch.
At the pass, another storm is brewing over the ridge to the south. We wait awhile to see what its going to do and it seems to be stalled. Jim, Henry and his dog, Tioga, join us as we climb up the north side of the pass. A light sprinkle tags along. The air is filled with that clean crisp smell which comes after a rain. The fresh scent of sage and lupine add to the aroma.
Our friends confirm that this is a “wus” year as they observe and comment on all the places free of snow where covered when they hiked in ’99. Somehow I imagine that time may also have amplified the snowfall from that heavier year. Either way, we make camp after a “grueling” 4 1/2 miles just below a saddle that marks the last time the PCT will be above 10,000 feet.
Our short day has allowed us to bring luxuries to dinner and we bake potatoes in the coals of a fire, grill steaks on the side with sage I picked earlier and sauté onions and mushrooms. We wash it down with wine and toast to “civilized camping”.
The nearly full moon rises above Wolf Lake as the clouds once again clear away to make room for the stars. We use the last of the wine to toast to our first “mosquito free” camp in several weeks.
