Labor Day Yosemite Trip Part 3

The storm quickly passed, haven barely rained. We climbed off the mountain and pitched our base camp.

We still had the rest of the afternoon, so Andrew decided to lone wolf. Nose to the wind, he started climbing the mountain above the lake and quickly was out of sight. I had expected this, and simply grabbed my headphones and journal, planning to use the down time to get some writing done.

I don’t worry, normally, when Andrew wanders off because he is usually back at some reasonable time. As typical of my writing, I had hit a zone and wrote for some time, only noticing later how much time had actually passed. Andrew was still nowhere to be seen. I delved back into my writing, figuring he’d show up eventually.

Roughly three hours after first leaving, I hear a distant yell.

“HEY!”

I looked up, pulling my headphones out of my ears. Andrew was on top of the mountain, jumping (literally) down the ledges.

“WHAT TIME IS IT?” he yelled.

“FOUR FIFTY!” I answered.

I put my headphones back in, as he climbed down.

“Hey!” I heard, looking up to see Andrew in front of me, winded and shirtless. I checked the time. 4:57. He jumped and ran down the entire mountain side in less than seven minutes.

“You gotta-” he said, breathing heavily. “You gotta see that. We gotta go. Let’s go.”

After catching his breath, he explained his trek: up the mountain, over the following hillside, and across the ridge.

Dark was looming, so I suggested we go in the morning while we wait for Michael and Jose to arrive.

So, that’s what we did.

DAY 3: I woke up to the wind whipping across my tarp. The sunlight pierced through, stirring me from a very restful night’s sleep. I stepped out of my bivy and crawled from under my tarp. Andrew was sound asleep in his bear burrito. I wasn’t hungry yet, so I figured I’d do some laundry. I grabbed my socks, shirt, and knife, and went to the shoreline. After washing my clothes, I glanced at the sky- it was partly cloudy, with the sun peeking out for short periods of time. I glanced at the icy water, weighing desire and cost. I was starting day 3, and while the baking powder I had brought killed any smell, I felt grimy. I looked down and found a deep section, close to the shore. I watched the sky, timing the cloud cover. I spotted a gap in clouds and waited. The sunlight broke out and I jumped in.

Fire burned across my skin as I was submerged into the icy water. Needles stabbed along my body as I touched the bottom of the lake and pushed up. I broke the surface in a leap, bursting out with enough momentum to carry me halfway up the shore. I let out an involuntary shriek as I made it cleared the water. I rolled over, laying on a flat rock, soaking in the sunlight. There was no towel to dry off with. No heater to huddle next to. The fire was smoldering ash, offering no warmth. So, I lay in the sunlight, letting the solar rays dry me off. To my dismay, the clouds returned. I curled into a ball and shivered, waiting for the clouds to break. A few minutes later, they did, allowing me to lay out again and soak up the sun.

Andrew padded up, staring at me oddly. “I woke up, looked over and saw you were gone. I saw your knife was gone. Then I heard a scream.”

I just laughed, still enjoying the simple pleasure of the warm sunlight.

We made breakfast after that, then started our trek up the hillside.

Upper Merced Pass Lake- Why it isn't called Heart Lake, I don't know.

Red Peaks- Our destination.

The granite mountain was scaled, only to find the extension of the mountain beyond it. After climbing and climbing, we could see the cliffside Andrew had traveled to the day before.

Following the ledge, we arrived at an overhang that extended over the sheer cliff face.

From there, we could overlook all of Yosemite. In the distance, we could see the smoke from the fire, Half-dome, El Capitan, as well as our destination- the Red Peaks. We took some time to take more pictures, allowing Andrew his moments of thrill seeking.

The Red Peaks in the background, Andrew on the right. I don't know how he is still alive.

"Hi mom!"

Once we took our share of pictures, Andrew decided to lone wolf again, heading further along the cliff. I found a nice spot and started writing.

If you look closely, you'll see the smoke from the Rim fire in the background, by my sunglasses.

I couldn't help it. I had to make one more arrow.

I hit the zone, but Andrew arrived not long after that. He was in a hurry to get back, thinking Michael and Jose would be arriving at Lower Merced Pass Lake around that time. I reluctantly followed him down the mountain, as Michael had no idea we had made it to the Upper Lake, rather than the originally decided Lower Lake.

Upon reaching camp, Andrew thought it would be a good idea to hike down and meet them. I suggested waiting, but he was determined- He’d go by himself if he had to. So, we hiked down the path. Knowing what to look for, we found the obscured path that led to Lower Lake. We searched the lake, but they were nowhere to be found.

It was a pleasant lake, but not nearly as pretty as the Upper Lake. Lower Lake had far better camp spots though.

Since they were not there, we continued down the hill. We kept hiking. And hiking. And hiking. I stopped periodically to call Michael, but didn’t have the signal my phone told me I had.

I did get to enjoy views I missed on the way up, though.

Andrew trotted off, running ahead of me as I tried to find signal. After hiking at a good pace for two hours, I realized we were nearing the spot we had camped the first night. Surely they had made it past this point? It was nearing dark. They had had a full day’s time to hike. We had gotten to that point in less than half a day. Had something happened? Did they breakdown on the road, never making it to Yosemite?

We kept hiking. For every bit we hiked, we’d have to hike back to get to camp. We hadn’t brought flashlights either.

Andrew had run ahead again, as I tried in vain to call Michael again. Then I saw Andrew coming back towards me.

“Found them,” he said.

“Where?” I asked, wondering why they weren’t with him.

“They’re where we camped the first night. The exact same spot,” Andrew replied, obviously disappointed. Michael and Jose had managed to hike at half the pace we had. I was dumbfounded.

“You aren’t allowed any more ideas for the rest of the trip,” I told him.

We effectively had repeated the hike we had done the day before, twice over. Finally arriving back at camp, with the sun setting, I dared Andrew to jump in the water.

Ever one to take such a dare, we decided we both would, but only after stoking up a good sized fire to warm up near. We lit the fire, watching as the flames licked several feet high. We did our laundry first, then jumped in.  Thankfully, the water was slightly warmer as it had all day to warm up. Scrambling out of the water, we ran over to the fire, only to find the roaring fire now sank to a smoldering pile of ash. I hung the clothes out on our makeshift clothesline as Andrew stoked the fire. The process was taking too long, so Andrew took his Jetboil and used it as a makeshift torch. The fire finally started again, as we stood shivering over the fire, enjoying the burning singe of the flames like masochists. I watched steam rise from my shorts, freezing on whichever part of me that was not exposed to the flames.

I would call it a good day.

To be concluded in Part FOUR!