It’s a wide plateau surrounded by pointy peaks, a few massive glaciers fanning out. My pack isn’t too heavy, but it’s unwieldy and I don’t want to fall.Ī small group gathers at the top including the five now I’m following and I meet them soon. They pop right up these rocks, where I need to set my poles and carefully lift myself up. He and his partner both are out just for the day and both have stuffed animal ‘mascots’ on their packs. I see the three reach a very steep bit close to a wall and just as I reach it, a man passes me. All around me are boulders and scree though oddly a few stunted pines at the top. Below me is Grizzly Lake where I might have camped, but glad I decided not to hike down 1,000 feet. It’s not really hard walking, but I’m careful not to fall and put the trekking pole straps around my wrists. We’re moving at about the same pace, slow with lots of stops for views. The trail heads way south to avoid a cliff before descending to Lake Solitude.Īhead I see three backpackers working their way up slowly. Feeling strong with Grizzly Lake just below and the Wind River Range in the distance. Just below the divide the trail gets very steep and crumbly. RB is Raisin Bran spiked with pecans and banana chips. I would definitely need spikes and an ice ax with this 60-70 degree slope straight down for hundreds of feet. Some glaciers still cling to the slope, but I never cross any. This one makes long zig zags with views deep into the canyon before sidling a scree slope. We came the other way, a more gradual ascent. It was one of the first big passes I’d ever done and I remember it being gorgeous and me being exhausted. Thirty years ago, I hiked this on a day with a violinist named Margaret. I see the pass high above, “Oh boy…” and go into low gear passing lakes below in aqua and deep blue. It’s steep up past more thickets of white bark pine, but nothing as magical as my site. But eventually I say goodbye to this superb place that held me safe in a night of wonder and I’m off. There’s no rush as it isn’t far over the divide and I want to ensure I don’t get another altitude headache. I take my time packing, letting the bottom of the alicoop2 dry out first. “Oh yes!” she tells me and admires my spot. A gal peaks in to say “hi” and I ask if she was warm enough last night. I next find a comfy spot on a rock outcropping and have a breakfast of raisin bran and pecans. So it’s out of the tent in this glorious place to find a loo with a view and dig my first cat hole of the trip. She writes that it’s better for us when we accept that nothing is guaranteed, though I’m fairly certain to be guaranteed I have to do my morning business! I’m reading Pema Chödrön Comfortable with Uncertainty trying to learn how to let go more, live more in the present with curiosity and have more humor about myself and all the ways I try to make things go my way. I’m warm and lazy with no reason to get up, so watch the sun creep up the canyon and light up the Grand. I wake with the tiniest bit of frost on the alicoop2, but I was cozy warm all night, the sky crystal clear and filled with stars, a half moon winking in before dawn.Ī loud crow wakes me, his wings flap-flapping as he makes a fly over. Vicki Robin Clowning around at Lake Solitude.
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