Today we were faced with two choices: walk to Trail Crest, just below the peak of Mt. Whitney, (about 5-6 mi away) or walk to Guitar Lake, (2.7 mi away) and relax. We chose the latter.
Let me take a moment to clarify something. Any runners out there? Well hiking, for all three of us, is a lot like running in this one particular facet: it is always hard at the start. Waking up pumped and saying, "..yeah let's finish this!" and actually walking the grueling mileage needed to finish are separated by a gaping, hole of difference. A gaping hole filled with fog. After four weeks on the trail, I was still unable to predict our coming day's mileage. Mentality, terrain, weather and body conditions all are factors that tip in importance, and change throughout the day. Heat; o god, so heavy a factor. Downhill; so much harder to walk than it sounds. Uphill; always hard, although I found us to be more driven and focused when challenged with a hill. Rain; not as bad as you'd think, and worked to keep our bodies' temperatures more evenly regulated and often cool. Bad heads; this was the killer. A bad attitude going in cannot always be fixed, can last all day, and can ruin a day's mileage, experience and can skew everything.
We wanted to finish, but after a hot, hot 2.7 mi walk, we decided to stop at the lake. We met two great friends from Germany who recommended we crash for the night, on account of the lack of water available, the heat and the possibility of limited to no camping options beyond Guitar Lake. They told us that Max Reuter was the president of Mercedes Benz in Germany and a famous man. "Strong German name!" The rolling R of an emphatic German pronunciation, is tough to beat, I think. I also am a big fan of the german accent; specifically how it is categorized as sounding abrasive and stern, but is so encouraging and sincere when paired with friendly eyes and a warm smile. I have a handful of german friends who light my smile with such simple attributes; honest and solid in character, earnest and driven in word and action, and, often, they can erupt in rolling, contagious, belly laughter that fills my smile. They charmed us into staying, and we enjoyed our last night of quiet camping before climbing the tallest monster rock of all.
Before bed, Nate and I sneaked out and wrote Max's name with rocks, hopefully, to be seen from the mountain on his birthday. We made birthday cards and origami and giggled as we returned to the tent. Yay. Goodnight trail.