I woke up early and willed the sky blue. I apprehensively peeked out of the tent to see a hint of promising light. Immediately, I popped out and went to work: stringing up wet everything, packing backs, filtering water, preparing a hot breakfast and planning a quick get away. I was so proud of the clean up, and actually managed to dry everything pretty well. Dry I say! Sun! Ah to be dry.
A half dozen hikers passed with the same quick-step energy that I had pumping; we must get out of here! Our friends who met the bear in Yosemite walked by wearing pieces of any dry clothing they had. All of us were decked out in a mix of pj's and bandanas draped. They had crossed Mather in the storm and said the descent was a knee high river. So dangerous. Soon after another man came by, "I've hiked this a number of times and never ever saw this kind of weather." My favorite was the guy who thought it might burn off and brighten into a week of sun. He said that the Sierras haven't seen a storm like that in a hundred years. Excellent. I bring rain.
So we boogied and hoped to get up Pinchot Pass (another 12,000+ footer, but much less intense). Easy and pleasant enough path, weaving in and out of forests and waterfalls, under the same grey skies. Bright spots pushed to break through the thick clouds, but never made it. That was ok. Our problem today was this: river crossings. The storm agitated the rivers and they plowed through with power and newfound depth. "Drought be gone!" they cried. We have crossed, well Natey's been counting, over 40 mini creeks and large rivers, always with easy access. Today, we crossed over five volatile rivers. They were slippy, ice cold and scary for the guys (both). My balance is thrown completely off while wearing a heavy pack, so it's fair to say that my heart also raced. By the third cross and after slips from all boots, we accepted (angrily) that we had to just wade. After all that rain and magical drying, we were soaked again. I hated them by the end of the day. All the rivers. Damn their beauty and wetness.
We made our way to Marjorie Lake, about 500ft below the pass. We met Carmen and Ann on the rock below, who shared scrumptious peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies (sent from Ann's mom) with us. Just for niceness. The little men were caught off guard, grateful and dumbstruck. I wouldn't have been surprised if they bowed or kissed them. Thank you nice people. The boys made finger puppets for you.
Clouds were dark and low, so we opted to tackle the pass tomorrow. Glen Pass, then Kearsarge, then Onion Valley, then Independence.
