Day 7, Sunday: Piute Pass to North Lake

After all the drama of the previous night (and the hike in general, for that matter), the last day of my trip is quite uneventful. The sun is shining, but big dark clouds are also in attendance, promising more fun. The canister for my stove sighs its last as I attempt to heat up my mocha, but I’d brought a couple of Esbit cubes with me as backup, and I cobble together a little rock stove to balance my 750 mL Toakes pot on top of. Kim Stanley Robinson would be proud!

Before long I’m on my way, making good time down the trail. It’s a beautiful canyon, particularly with the shifting light created by the storm clouds: I stop at one point to take some photos with the canyon and Piute Crags again (now from above!).

As I near the bottom I sense something behind me, and step aside to let one of the horse packers from the day before pass by. It begins to rain, and by the time I reach my car at the North Lake parking lot I think it could qualify as a downpour.

Descending Highway 168 back towards Bishop I catch sight of dramatic storm clouds over Basin Mountain and Mount Tom. I do the right thing and pull over, and buffeted by the wind, take some shots. Then I continue on homeward, doing the traditional stop at Whoa Nelli Deli for a burger and fries.

I’ll close this series of posts with a poem by the renown American poet Gary Snyder:

Piute Creek
One granite ridge
A tree, would be enough
Or even a rock, a small creek,
A bark shred in a pool.
Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted
Tough trees crammed
In thin stone fractures
A huge moon on it all, is too much.
The mind wanders. A million
Summers, night air still and the rocks
Warm.   Sky over endless mountains.
All the junk that goes with being human
Drops away, hard rock wavers
Even the heavy present seems to fail
This bubble of a heart.
Words and books
Like a small creek off a high ledge
Gone in the dry air.

A clear, attentive mind
Has no meaning but that
Which sees is truly seen.
No one loves rock, yet we are here.
Night chills. A flick
In the moonlight
Slips into Juniper shadow:
Back there unseen
Cold proud eyes
Of Cougar or Coyote
Watch me rise and go.