| So Monday, August 14th, we were on the High Trail to Thousand Island Lake by 7:30 in the morning, a nice early start. It amazes me how many people we see take out in the hottest part of the day! The High Trail is quite steep at first, but soon settles in to nice switch backs (THANK GOD FOR SWITCH BACKS!) The switchbacks then become a continuous traverse across San Joaquin Ridge, a very enjoyable hike and beautiful with the knee-high wildflowers at the peak of the season. |
 About an hour and a half up the trail Jake looks at my fly rod case securely fashioned to my pack and says, " MY FLY ROD!" I left it strapped to the roof of the car back at the trailhead. " Oh great!" exclaims father Tim. Now the big decision, should we go on without it, or go back to the trailhead and retrieve it. The latter was the obvious choice especially since Young Jake's new fly rod was his FIRST, and he was looking forward to learning some fly casting techniques from Tom, who is not a master, but an accomplished fly fisherman. So not to let his son be doomed to spinning gear, it was decided that Tim and Jake would shed their packs and go fetch the fly rod (SO MUCH FOR THE NICE EARLY START!). Tom, Mary, Gina, and the fishing yellow lab and local Mammoth resident, " Lacy," would get an unexpected hour and a half rest. So out with the cripple creek chairs it was. After bathing in the sun for which seemed ages, I hear Tim coming up the trail saying, "Wer Heg-Ah-we?", pronounced " WERHEG AAAAAAAAAAHWEEE." This is said between us when we are lost, or take the wrong trail, or forgot something at the trailhead, or when any other obscure thing happens out in the wilderness that all we can do is laugh at. This little euphemism is short for, " Where the heck are we?" When we were in youth work together with kids on the trail we could say this and nobody knew what we were talking about, and we got a roaring laugh out of it! ..."WERHEGAHHHHHWEE?" |
| After a 30-min rest for Tim and Jake, we hit the trail again. What was initially an early start on a hot day, was now two hours BEHIND. At one o'clock, after a leisurely lunch of peanut and almond butter on English muffins, trail mix and fruit rollups, we were back on the trail about half way to our days destination and what would be our home for the next four nights. I had forgotten how many uphill sections there were as we got closer to the lake. Mary and Tim were sick to death of hearing me say, "only one more uphill and were there." No sooner said than ANOTHER rise would appear and I would say it again. Hee, hee, hee! |
| About 5 p.m., we drug our packs (mine weighing 65 pounds) up the north side of the lake in the trees, where my most favorite camping site is. Happy to find nobody there, we treated ourselves to a dinner of couscous, Italian squash, ham and an early bedtime Yeeeeesssss! We are all beat! "FREE IN THE MOUNTAINS...ABOVE THIS MEMORABLE SPOT , THE FACE OF THE MOUNTAINS IS STILL MORE SAVAGELY HACKED AND TORN. IT IS A MAZE OF YAWNING CHASMS AND GULLIES , IN THE ANGLES OF WHICH RISE BEETLING CRAGS AND PILES OF DETACHED BOULDERS THAT SEEM TO HAVE GOTTEN READY TO BE LAUNCHED BELOW" | | |
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