Labor Day Yosemite Trip Part 2

Ladder fuels lining the path.

After all the preparation, delays, and slacking off, we were finally underway. The first impression I had was this: Yosemite was in bad shape.

Not from the fire, mind you. The exact opposite actually. The ground floor is riddled with ladder fuels. Now I knew why the Rim fire was ripping through the tree tops- Yosemite was a ticking time bomb of fuel, just waiting for a match.

Here's the best picture I have of the ground fuel I tried to overlook.

Burnt trees lined the path from heavier-than-normal fires.

I made a mental note to be careful when lighting fires.

Well, somewhat careful.

Now, I’ll preface something here- I had packed well (a bit on the heavy side in fact), since the plan was to hike to a site and set up a base camp. So I had packed fresh strawberries and even bananas. Not light, by any means. Since I knew we didn’t plan to start until late that day, I had packed a turkey sandwich in a cooler, figuring I’d load up just before I started the hike.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t hungry at the start of the hike. I opted to just throw the sandwich, chips, and Arizona green tea into my bag. It’s just extra weight, right?

Wrong. I’ll save my in-depth review for later, but the Osprey Exos 58 gave me fits here. Before I had bought it, numerous reviews had said there was a comfort margin- a threshold that once passed would mean discomfort and pain. That threshold was roughly 35 lbs. The moment you packed over 35 pounds of weight into the bag, it turned into a portable torture device. My equipment weighed under that, originally. Adding this heavy lunch of ~2.5 lbs set me over the threshold, and spelled disaster. The first two miles were just painful. The pack straps dug into my shoulders like metal bars. The hip belt felt like a wooden board, pressured solely on my hip bones. Finally, I felt hungry enough I told Andrew we should stop and have lunch. He agreed, and I devoured the sandwich- not for hunger’s sake, but for the sake of my shoulders and hip. The 24 oz can of Green Tea was heavenly, if only because I knew I wouldn’t be carrying it around any longer.

At this point, we started marking the trail with makeshift arrows- piling pieces of wood and pine cones to draw out an arrow at each trail crossroad we came across. We didn’t want to risk Michael and Jose getting lost and not reaching us.

Follow for a good time.

We continued down the trail, which at this point had remained fairly flat. With the weight of the lunch gone, suddenly I had passed under the magical comfort margin the Exos 58 had. The pack was a dream after that. The suspension held the weight stiffly to my body- far enough to allow air flow, but close enough to feel centered to me. I was then able to actually enjoy the hike.

There are a few things you should know about Andrew, going into this story. Firstly, he’s a lone wolf. He thrives on being alone. Secondly, he, much like his wolf counterpart, will randomly decide to wander off and check out his new-found territory.  Thirdly, he enjoys dangerous activities for the sake of the thrill and the bragging rights that follow.

All three of these points will surface throughout the trip.

Andrew and I made good progress through the trails. Andrew prefers to set a fast pace, which didn’t bother me. My preferred speed is as fast as you can go while still able to look around at the scenery. The last thing I need on a backpacking trip is to roll an ankle ten miles from the nearest road. His speed wasn’t much faster than mine, so it balanced out.

We found an open field where there was enough cell phone signal and called Michael, letting him know we started and what to expect. We stated once again our destination: Lower Merced Pass Lake. Michael confirmed that they were starting early Wednesday, and would meet us at the lake that night.

Can you hear me now? Bummer.

Having done some 7 miles or so, we decided to pitch camp and settle for the night. It had been a decent day, and there was no rush seeing as we had 56 hours until Michael and Jose would catch up to us.

My silnylon tarp-bivy setup to the right, Andrew's camouflaged setup to the left. 

We set up near to a small creek, on the edge of the allowed 100’ limit that Yosemite had set.

DAY 2: The next morning, I woke up, having caught up on the sleep I had missed from the horrid night before. As I ate breakfast, I watched a park ranger walking up the trail. I waved to him, but he didn’t wave back. In fact, we later caught up to him and found out he didn’t see us at all. Now, I know park rangers don’t have to be ‘one with nature’, but I expect them to at least have a better awareness than walking right past Andrew’s bright neon orange bivy and easter egg blue tarp and not seeing such an eyesore. Let’s hope he doesn’t cross a hungry natural-colored bear.

Andrew's Outdoor Research Advanced Bivy Bear Burrito.

Andrew and I packed up and headed out. Shortly down the trail, we passed an Aussie on his way back. We said hi, being polite. After asking where he had been, he mentioned Upper Merced Pass Lake. Curious about it, we asked him if he had went to the lower lake. He described Lower lake as bigger, but Upper as clearer. After saying a farewell, Andrew and I discussed it, then decided to take a look at Lower and then check out Upper lake afterwards.

Five miles later, we arrived at an intersection. Andrew said we needed to go right, but something irked me- We should have hit Lower Merced Pass Lake by then. I pulled out the map, and sure enough we had past it. There was no sign. No path. Nothing.

(Insert your own caption here.)

In fact, the intersection we were at should have had the path to Upper lake. By all accounts, we were already at Upper lake, but we didn’t see it. After searching around, we found a small trail that was blocked by a felled tree. With a sense of adventure, we opted to just follow it. The trail looked like nothing more than a deer trail.

Yep. That's a trail.

It wound past a thicket of trees, and opened into a glorious lake.

"Yeah, we're staying here."

I quickly decided to camp there that night. We found a spot, but Andrew wanted to walk the perimeter to see if there were any better spots. After climbing over the cliff side and trudging through the marsh on the far side, we decided to camp where we originally planned.

At that point occurred an unforgettable moment:

I climbed over the rocky ledge, pulling myself up. I glanced down at the heart-shaped lake below us, spotting where we had left our gear. I looked back up towards Andrew, who was already climbing the next rock face.

“Hey, you know what?” I asked.

“What?” he replied, looking back at me.  As he did, the gloomy sky lit with a familiar brilliance accompanied with lightning storms. The familiar turned to the unforgettable as a single bolt of electricity tore through the sky, illuminating with such ferocity it hurt my eyes. The single largest lightning bolt I'd ever seen flashed into my memory as it lit the once-dark sky. My friend in front of me, who had been visible a moment prior, turned to a mere silhouette as the scenery changed for but an instant. The flash faded, leaving only a faded line in my vision.

“Oh my god, did you see that?” I asked mindlessly. Of course he hadn’t, as he had been looking at me. My questioning him at the wrong moment had cost him that memory.

“See what?” he asked. The earth itself answered with thunder that sent tremors through the solid granite mountain under my feet. The roar of the thunder echoed for seemingly an eternity.

Andrew and I looked at each other with the same expression of awe.

That moment would forever be seared into my memory.

To be continued in Part THREE!