As I wake I notice things are surprisingly damp. Maybe I should have used that rain fly. I pack up the things in my tent: sleeping quilt, inflatable pad, clothes, and gear. I set them outside my tent, then I climb out. It reminds me of being on the Pacific Crest Trail, when maximum efficiency was a habit. I would never leave a tent and then get back in it… that would be crazy. With headlamp on head, I head out for my daily constitutional. I achieve good results requiring little paperwork. We have a big day today both in miles and elevation. Breakfast is a quick coffee with Bagel Thins and cream cheese. The first seven and a half miles are all downhill, losing about 3,000 feet of elevation. Not to worry, we will earn that all back later in the day.
As we walk I notice Pika chirping everywhere. Yesterday I heard their calls but could not see them or get any video. Today the Pika are so numerous and tame John finally tells Brian he should just pick one up. Brian appropriately declines. Our junior ranger’s story of pine martens jogs John’s memory. He recalls crazy videos showing how vicious they can be. He describes them attacking and blooding foxes and breaking the spines of cute little rabbits. With that context, I am very excited when I see one flitting around a log. I am certain we are about to capture something viral. My imagination runs wild, but the pine marten runs even wilder. It is too fast for my video skills. Brian and Kevin further undermined me by suggesting it is not a pine marten, but simply a quick black squirrel. I know a long slender weasel when I see one, and I am pretty sure I am seeing two more: Brian and Kevin.
As we continue down the trail, it varies from talus rocks with wide-open vistas, to short spurts of brush-enclosed tunnels. We make good time plowing down, but dread the 3,000 foot re-climb ahead. Brian and Kevin take a significant lead, while the rest of us struggle in misery. We stop at a stream to soak our shirts and make hummus and cheese pita sandwiches. Brian and Kevin spend most of that time arguing about the proper consistency of reconstituted freeze dried hummus – Brian voting for soggy, Kevin leaning towards play-dough. We press on.
Although there is tons of water in the Sawtooth, we find ourselves uncomfortably hot and running low. Kevin, who is well ahead, finds a place where he can scramble down a steep embankment to a creek. He leaves his pack on the trail, takes a water filter and a couple of empty bottles, and ventures off to become our hero. I arrive at his pack and realize what he is doing. I pull up my CalTopo map and also realize that not too far ahead the trail makes its way around and very close to the water. It is possible the trail will be near yet too high above the water, but not probable. Feeling like a horrible ingrate, I hike on to where the trail and water meet. I sit with my feet in the water while I filter several bottles in comfort. I should feel guilty leaving my son, but the cool water rushing over my toes washes that feeling away. I forget all about my poor son who is now somewhere down an embankment trying to save his family.
We eventually make it to camp by 5pm. We do not set any time records, but there is plenty of time to fish Baron Lake. I catch a borderline legal sized fish, which swallowed the lure so hard it is clearly not going to recover. We keep it to have with our bean and cheese burritos. Brian cleans and prepares the fish, and I build a ridiculous fire in a pie pan. Ironically, I position the pan in the middle of a huge illegal fire ring, which the pie pan requirement was designed to prevent. Silly. The fish provides us six measly bites, but tons of good laughs and ribbings. Ben, our newly met rock climbing camp-neighbor from Salt Lake City, has one of the bites. Tomorrow should be a shorter day with only eight plus miles and 2,000 feet of elevation. We hope to have more time for fishing.
