Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Johnson Lake - Day 3

The first rays of sunshine hitting the tooth. 
We got up promptly at 6. Today was a day with a strict agenda. We needed to get back to the car as quickly as possible, so we could drive home before dark. I mean, we could have driven home in the dark, but it isn’t preferable on those roads. Not to mention I had to go to work the next day, and driving home after dark would mean a short night of sleep.
Goodbye, Johnson Lake!
It was Ambrose’s turn to cook, so I focused on getting dressed and packing up. It was cold enough that I decided to leave my long underwear on under my hiking pants and shirt - low 40s when we woke up, and low 50s when we left camp.
Why, yes, that is frost on that log. It was cold!
We ended up being almost completely packed up by the time we ate breakfast. Ambrose had experimented with frying the spam in the pot before cooking the grits and freeze-dried eggs in the same pot.

Ambrose often experiments with cooking, and I very often like the results.

This was not one of those times.

The spam had burned onto the bottom of the pot, and the char flavor permeated the grits and eggs. I was hungry enough to eat it, but I still complained about the flavor.
We headed out at about a quarter to 8. That’s not too bad, but I think we both want to get that morning get ready time down. It would be nice to be able to wake up and get moving in an hour or less.
I proposed that Ambrose lead the way out, since this was his first time to Johnson Lake. That way he would gain experience with the area - experience I already had since I’d been there before. And I promised to correct him if he went too far astray.

So he led the way from Johnson Lake to the main trail, and, just to show me up, he didn’t get lost once. Though I probably could have let him get lost at one point, but instead I pointed out the blazes he had missed…

Once we reached the main trail, we parted ways. The plan was for me to hike at my speed back to the car and get rested up so that when Ambrose arrived at the car he could hop in and I could drive us home. I was excited to see much time I could gain over him, and set out feeling decently awake despite not falling asleep on time the night before.

He had to stop right away for a call of nature, and I knew I’d have to stop soon, but I wanted to gain some elevation first. When I climbed over the level of the trees on the switchbacks up to High Pass, I looked back and saw him approaching the start of the switchbacks. He saw me and waved, and I kept heading up.
This is a picture of Ambrose. 

He's out there somewhere!

There he is!
I stopped for my own call of nature after High Pass, but I still managed to keep ahead of Ambrose. I made my way down the switchbacks, thanking the trail crew in my head for clearing the logs from them.
View from High Pass to the south. 
View from High Pass to the north. 
I was going fast. I knew from experience that my feet would start hurting soon, and I wanted to get to the car before that happened. But I also like pushing the pace, even though this would be the last hike of my season, and a part of me wanted to make it last. A bigger part wanted to beat the pants off of Ambrose, time-wise.


I noticed that the stumbly wall of rocks across washouts on the trail had become smooth paths, or even rocky stairs. Each improvement I noted brought another smile to my face.
Wilderness stairs.


Even expecting that I might run into the trail crew again, it was a surprise when I came upon them. I said hello, and thanked them for their work, and was off again before I could even remember to mention the mountain goats or show them the pictures.

I mean, I hardly paused to take pictures.
Not many flowers remained, compared to June and July.

Huge improvement.
The hike goes much faster downhill, and once I had reached High Pass, it was all downhill. Before I knew it, I’d reached the Neinmeyer junction and then the crossing of the Little Queens.
Now it looks like a tarp (the trail crew base camp).


Yes, it's a rock hop. Barely.
For some reason, the distance between that crossing and the next one felt longer than usual. I think it was because my feet had begun to hurt. Plus, I was anticipating that next crossing. I was not planning on taking my boots and socks off for it, like I had on the way up. Instead, I would chance flooding my boots by walking right across it.
The clouds were positioned perfectly to make this tree look like a smokestack.
On the one hand, cold water in my boots would make my feet feel a bit better, but on the other hand, water-logged feet end up feeling a lot worse the longer they stay in the wet. Not to mention stinky. I hate stink-foot.


So once I arrived, I analyzed the crossing. I chose the path that I had avoided on the way up, because it involved too many wet branches. This time, the branches were not wet, and even if they were, I didn’t care. I’d taken off my long underwear in the heat of the day. Okay, warmth of the day. It really didn’t get hot on this trip.
Yeah, still not a rock hop...
I made the fastest crossing I’ve ever done, stepping high and shoving my trekking poles down with authority. My gaiters got a little damp, but no water seeped into my boots. I was only a little disappointed that I didn’t get a cold water hydro-massage on my feet for the last hour of hiking. Or so.


I made it to the car before 1pm, after about 5 hours of hiking. The trailhead was mostly empty, with only a couple cars and no people in sight. I made coffee with the waiting french press in the car, and drank a carton of coconut water.

Since I started the chronometer running after we left, I estimated my time to be closer to 5 hours.
I expected Ambrose to arrive within an hour of my own arrival, but that time came and went. I finished drinking my coffee and poured his into my bottle. I debated bringing out a tarp and sleeping pad so I could nap on the picnic table. I read, and I waited.

I ended up dozing off in the driver’s seat of the car with my feet up and out the window when he finally arrived, about 2 hours after I’d gotten there. He was a bit wrecked, having had a bout of dehydration to combat as he came down the trail.

But he’d made it, and after he changed his clothes I began to drive us home.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Johnson Lake - Day 2

Good morning Johnson Lake!

Although I hadn’t seen them myself, Ambrose did report that the chipmunk was not our only neighbor. He had seen dogs and people around the lake when he went to rinse the pot out (he used dirt to scrub the pot, and then washed the dirt out of the pot into the water - not the food). I was too tired to care about that when he told me, but the next morning the information was more relevant. I wondered if they would come by where we were, or if they would be bothered by our presence. I didn’t mind them as long as I didn’t notice them. And even with a report of dogs, they hadn’t bothered me all through the night.

I slept in, but eventually my stomach growled hard enough to get me out of the tent. It was my day to cook, so I made up our dessert breakfast of apple crisp. For something that’s supposed to be four servings, it always seems to disappear too quickly.
Today was to be a day without an agenda - we could sit around and do nothing or go for a day hike or anything in between. I wanted to explore the area, but Ambrose preferred to stay at camp and relax, so I started to get ready after cleaning out the breakfast pot. Since I have a tendency to under hydrate while backpacking, and because it makes cleanup a lot easier, I boiled water in the pot to clean it, and then drank the apple crisp flavored hot water.
See it?
I got dressed in hiking clothes and packed my pack for a day excursion - everything but the cook kit and my sleeping bag and pad, essentially. I checked the topo map to determine which way I wanted to go. The plan was to walk around the lake, staying far enough back from the bank to avoid the neighboring campers, and then see what I could see.

I stopped to empty my bladder before I left, and heard the oddest sound. It was the clack-clacking of rocks falling down a slope, or the clop-clocking of shod hooves on rock, a tinkling slide of sound that brought our heads up in curiosity.
How about now?
After I finished my business, I walked toward the source of the noise, which seemed to be somewhere across the lake from us. I looked at the slope up to an 8200 foot ridge and saw absolutely nothing.

Then the mountain goats moved.


Five little white specks made their way across the talus slope while we watched. In the green areas, they were decently visible, once you spotted them, but once they were against a backdrop of rock and shadow they nearly disappeared. I wanted them to come down to Johnson lake for water so I could get a closer look at them, but there was no need. According to the topo map, there was another lake up there between the ridge we could see and the 8800 foot ridge overlooking Browns Lake that was not visible beyond it.

If they hadn’t made that sound in the first place, they would have passed above us without a sign, and we would have been none the wiser.
We stood there long after they had passed, trying to see where they had disappeared to.

When I left on my day hike, it was with a smile of wonder on my face.

I headed away from Johnson Lake, and then angled over in the direction of the other campers, and the outlet of the lake. There was another, unnamed lake visible to my left, and the outlet was just ahead of me when I saw one of our neighbors, standing where the outlet met the new lake. I stopped moving and waited. I saw a nice big rock ridge that I wanted to climb and stand on top of, but this person was blocking my route. I didn’t feel like being social, so I turned around and decided to circumnavigate the small lake first.

I kept the tooth peak in sight to make sure I could find my way back.

Another alien tree! And is that the guy from xkcd
I made my way through swampy grasses, trying to avoid the bushy areas. Bushes tend to trip me. I found the outlet of the small lake with a tempting log laying across it as a bridge. The problem was that there was another log that would make it difficult to get all the way across. So I took a metaphorical step back and saw that this crossing was, in fact, a rock hop. I scrambled down to the bank and used a boulder to get across without getting my feet wet or challenging my balance.


From there, I went up. I wanted to see where I ended up, and where I might go next. I ended up atop a rock overlooking the small lake, and decided to continue the circumnavigation.
 

I began to get a little paranoid about the other campers deciding to take a day hike and stumbling upon me. It isn’t that I thought that would be a bad thing, so much as I didn’t want to see anyone. I wanted to be alone, exploring and able to pee if needed without worrying about others’ sensibilities.

I came upon a ridge that could lead me directly to the rock I’d originally wanted to top. But there were other ridges behind it. And so I began to play that, “just one more” game. I’ll just go to the top of this ridge and see what there is to see. Oh, a tiny little lake and another ridge. Well, I’ll just go to the top of that ridge and see…

I stopped when I had passed my main landmark, which I call the tooth peak, and saw a little lake nestled in a bowl of land. I could hear water flowing down to it, and I figured that if I followed that little flow I would be able to find The Hole and Glacier Lake. But I’d promised Ambrose that I’d be back in time to make lunch, so I headed back.
I probably could have gone out a bit farther and still made it back on time, but I was getting hungry and I figured Ambrose would rather have me back early than late. There would be another time to go see those higher lakes.


I came back by finishing my circle of the small lake. The outlet was free of people, and I found a good log to cross it with. From there I went up and emerged to see Johnson Lake, roughly between their camp and ours. Ambrose heard my bell, so I couldn’t sneak up on him and surprise him. I guess if I wanted to do that I should have silenced it…


I made lunch, and just as we were about to settle in for some serious lounging, the two people and two dogs from the other campsite hiked by. They said they were heading back to the trailhead, and advised us that the smaller lake had good fishing. We waited only a few minutes after they left before heading over to check out their campsite.

After all, if it was better than ours, then we would want to know that for next time. Or even move camp if it was some kind of miraculously awesome place to camp.


The spot was decent, but no better than the one we had. The main difference was the sound of the outlet flowing by. It’s nice for me to have that to drown out Ambrose’s snoring, but it’s not required. There was a path visible continuing around Johnson, and I wanted to follow it to the mouth of the outlet. Ambrose wanted to head back to camp, so I promised I wouldn’t be long.

I made my way to a boggy meadow where I found the place where the outlet met the lake. I was tempted to cross it and continue exploring, but I’d promised. I turned around and saw Ambrose.
He had decided to follow me after all. We crossed the outlet and looked for spots that might make good campsites or places to explore. The ground was mostly either too wet or too steep for a tent, but the rocks near begged to be explored. I wanted to check out just one more place, and that led to Ambrose deciding we would circumnavigate Johnson together.
Is this a pica?

I think it's a pica. 

Now, this wasn’t the safest hike we’ve ever taken. We didn’t have any supplies, just my camera. So we took extra care with our steps and took some comfort in the fact that we weren’t that far from our base camp, should something happen that required equipment.


We made it safely around the lake, and just in time for me, because I had had an urgent need to dig a hole since about the outlet - but I didn’t have my trowel on me.

After that business was concluded, I joined Ambrose in lounging variously on rocks, dirt and him. I thought about getting in the lake, but I decided that the temperature was too chilly for that hobby. This time. I did really want to get to the island, but that, too, will have to wait - for a hotter day or a wetsuit.

I read on my kindle and chased the sunshine until it was time to cook dinner. I was too cold in shade to remain in it long. I made dinner and we adjourned to the tent to eat it, since there were a lot of bugs and the tent would be getting a season’s end cleaning after this trip. Ambrose began to sleep soon after dinner, but I was up reading for a while. Even after I wanted to fall asleep I couldn’t manage it. I wasn’t comfortable. I had Ambrose’s pack and mine under my feet, and I ended up turning my body around so that my head was elevated on the packs instead. That, and a couple of Benadryl, finally did the trick.

Ambrose called this chipmunk "Obi-wan-fat-one"

She was hungry.

Aw! Ambrose's first selfie. 

Not a bad shot of a deer through the mesh of our tent.