Chapter 14 ~ Page 182
The axiom that improved trail increased trail use proved true here. We came upon many others who had come to this area to visit the park, and had to find what they were looking for someplace else. We met a couple of little old ladies puffing along on a day-hike that thought our girls were the cutest little misses they had ever seen.
Bernadette and Colette caught a case of the giggles. And not just from being adored. When these LOL's saw our loaded packhorses, one asked, "Are you little ones going to camp out overnight?"
"How sweet," my daughters thought. It was cute, but my favorite of the day was a climber that called down from his belay on a rock face near the summit, "Hey! C-o-m-e o-n u-p."
To this tiny fleck of red splattered upon the rich brown cliff wall I yelled back, "S-m-i-l-e. I want to take your picture."
I like to think he did. It was that warm of a day. Sunny too. Pulling off of the main trail we let a wandering deer lead us down a bubbling creek to a hidden cove. There was good grass. We had the time for a swim and laundry. It was a good camp. This was a good life!
We had stopped short, as from the forest ranger, and trail guide map, we knew that the next day would take twenty miles of traveling, over the old Skyline Trail, to reach suitable grazing. Other than calling a day "long," or "short," we, by this time, didn't actually pay much attention to the miles covered. One reason was that three different maps, six different sign posts, would add up to twelve conflicting figures. What I recorded in my trail diary was a compromise, plus our own observation, and the reading of a map measuring wheel.
I remember starting one bit of trail to a Blue Lake, which according to the trailhead sign was seven miles away. Two miles along, another sign at a junction of a feeder trail, stated we had already done three, but it still was six to the lake. One mile further, another sign read six and two (meaning we were standing still.) And finally, another informed us there was yet eight miles to go to reach our destination.
Confused? Barry Jr. suggested that since we seemed to be losing ground traveling forward, we should turn about in our saddles, and head north pretending it was south. Almost as lucid was the old Crest Trail Conference printed guide where Clinton Clarke had published precise mileage's, and then stated, "Of course trail miles are 30% longer than listed."
Bernadette and Colette caught a case of the giggles. And not just from being adored. When these LOL's saw our loaded packhorses, one asked, "Are you little ones going to camp out overnight?"
"How sweet," my daughters thought. It was cute, but my favorite of the day was a climber that called down from his belay on a rock face near the summit, "Hey! C-o-m-e o-n u-p."
To this tiny fleck of red splattered upon the rich brown cliff wall I yelled back, "S-m-i-l-e. I want to take your picture."
I like to think he did. It was that warm of a day. Sunny too. Pulling off of the main trail we let a wandering deer lead us down a bubbling creek to a hidden cove. There was good grass. We had the time for a swim and laundry. It was a good camp. This was a good life!We had stopped short, as from the forest ranger, and trail guide map, we knew that the next day would take twenty miles of traveling, over the old Skyline Trail, to reach suitable grazing. Other than calling a day "long," or "short," we, by this time, didn't actually pay much attention to the miles covered. One reason was that three different maps, six different sign posts, would add up to twelve conflicting figures. What I recorded in my trail diary was a compromise, plus our own observation, and the reading of a map measuring wheel.
I remember starting one bit of trail to a Blue Lake, which according to the trailhead sign was seven miles away. Two miles along, another sign at a junction of a feeder trail, stated we had already done three, but it still was six to the lake. One mile further, another sign read six and two (meaning we were standing still.) And finally, another informed us there was yet eight miles to go to reach our destination.
Confused? Barry Jr. suggested that since we seemed to be losing ground traveling forward, we should turn about in our saddles, and head north pretending it was south. Almost as lucid was the old Crest Trail Conference printed guide where Clinton Clarke had published precise mileage's, and then stated, "Of course trail miles are 30% longer than listed."
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Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia