The first time Gen Yeager and I went into the High Sierras, it was such a wonder.
I so wanted to go but he never took girls and his trip had been planned for years – the usual annual trip timed for the best golden trout fishing. Then at the last minute, two of the three people with whom he was going dropped out 3 days before the trip. We had already shopped for all the food. He turned to me, squinted his eyes: Would you like to go?
SURE!
and
Gasp! I had no good hiking boots. I scrambled. Shoes never fit me. Oddly the cheapest ones fit the best. They weren’t the greatest – not very deep tread but….they’d just have to do.
I had only been camping once before – my girls’ school had had an Outward Bound weekend the weekend before school started – 8th grade. One of our tasks was getting everyone over a wall.
Well. We had a 350 lb teacher with us. We never did quite figure out how to get everyone over. OR how to get him over. We tried every which way: All of the rest of us hoisting. Some of us at the top of the wall pulling, some hoisting. All of us pulling. All of us couldn’t lift him. The counselor finally gave us a pass. (Because he had no answers, either, is the real reason!)
Fortunately, CY and I had been doing longer hikes and with packs just for him to train for the annual 2-4 week trip into the Sierras.
I also had to ask a friend if he minded if I canceled or postponed our trip to climb Mt. Shasta (made weeks before for the time CY would be hiking in the Sierras). The friend couldn’t believe I would have kept my word if he hadn’t let me out of it. But he did.
I’m rather extra glad I didn’t go to Mt. Shasta with this friend – he did not hire a very experienced guide (as I would have done but he claimed to be experienced….not as I would prefer) and ended up spending the night in a sling on the mountain. Very dangerous. And very cold.
CY’s daughter asked me dubiously what I planned to do about…well….menses, although she used another term. It’s the reason she didn’t go camping any more. I replied, I don’t know but plenty of women have done it before so I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to let it limit me. Baffled, she wasn’t keen on that answer.
CY and I packed according to his well-worn and tested list and drove to Reno airport where we picked up CY’s brother and drove on down to Lone Pine. Hal pointed out the sights.
We joined up with the motel owners, a couple of CY’s other friends and had a hearty dinner.
The next morning after our last big breakfast, we drove up to the portal. And started hiking. We were a large group – some were just hiking to the pass, having lunch with us, and returning the same day.
CY made it clear that I was to start out slow – most people who start out fast end up with mountain sickness and cutting their trip short – especially the young-uns in their 30’s and 40’s.
Every few zigzags, CY would say, “Victoria, you want to stop for a blow?” I always did. I didn’t care to sit down though – getting up with a 40 lb pack was the hard part.
My feet were killing me – definitely was developing blisters. I was partly afraid to take off my boots to put on moleskin, afraid I’d never get them back on again.
One of the hikers was a doctor – I asked him. His response (unbelievably) was: It just means you are walking too fast. Slow down.
If I had walked any more slowly, I would have been going backwards/downhill.
After 2 miles and 3000′ elevation, we arrived at the pass. Sooooo beautiful. Lots of snow.
Our last sandwiches – which the day trippers had carried up. I tried to find a private facility. (meaning bush).
After about an hour, the day trippers headed back and we headed on. Another 8 miles and about a loss of 1000′.
The first part brought us to a higher point. I about fainted, I was so tired. I sat down.
I got my second strength back.
We ran into a guy whom the group usually sees towards the end of the trip – he brings in lots of goodies. It was his last day so he gave us a few things. We would have been more receptive 10 days in – but now it was just more weight. I still gratefully accepted some of it – one never knows.
Some of the rock formations and tree formations were so intricate and inspired the imagination. At one point we were talking to Hal as he was seated. CY stepped back and caught himself – or I caught him. It was a long drop.
We heard a plane go by. We flashed a mirror. It circled back, dipped its wing, and headed home. It had two of our day trippers on board.
When we got to camp, I got on a rock and took off my boots. Ah relief. But: Oh my goodness. I had blisters…on blisters…on blisters…on blisters.
CY told me to go help M get some water for camp: soup, hot chocolate….
Oops. I dreaded putting my boots back on but I did not want CY to regret bringing a “girl” into the Sierras.
He looked over, saw me in bare feet, looked at my bare feet and was stunned.
M said he had some slippers I could wear. I was soooo grateful, wondering why I hadn’t thought to bring some slippers. Those worked for in camp but were too difficult to walk down to the water. I started out – trying to get there. M said he was fine handling it on his own.
Relief, again.
CY could not believe how awful or awfully painful my feet looked. But more, he couldn’t believe I hadn’t complained.
Well. I knew my feet weren’t in danger – meaning no bleeding blisters ripe for infection – and so it was just pain. And I didn’t want to be a drag. Complaining wouldn’t help the pain.
I could see he catalogued that on the plus side.
We set up our tent and sleeping bags.
Hal offered that we use the soup and hot chocolate from his bag. I thought bemusedly: that’s a lot of trust that we’d share ours later.
Silly me. CY clued me in – don’t let him do that – he’s trying to lessen his weight.
Ah. Shoulda known. I appreciated CY warning the new kid (me). From others.
He tells the story that on the first day hiking up the mountain – He started out with 50lb pack and I started out with a 35 lb pack. At some point, I apparently said, “You look like hell, let me alleviate some of your weight,” and took 5 lbs out of his sack and put it in mine.
This happened several times so that I ended up with 50 lbs and he ended up with 35 lbs. So I had already had my turn as the new kid.
He also tells people about 15 lbs of mine was crampax as he calls all those supplies.
We ate dinner and chatted a bit. Then CY and I turned in. A beautiful night – starry. Many satellites going by. Some planes.
Except for the altitude, I slept pretty darn well.
Stay tuned for day two.
c. GCYI