Lost in Glacier and Other Mishaps of Two 16 yr Olds

(Mt Wilbur)

Moderate 36 mile multi day backpack, Glacier National Park

Glacier

“Oh my God, where are we?”  I looked at Sandy,  and she looked at me…both of us mirrored the other’s sickly, panic stricken expressions on our faces.   We looked down at the snow under our feet, too hard packed to show tracks, and saw no footprints whatsoever.   As 16 year olds will do,  we had been talking nonstop about this and that and never even realized we had gotten off the trail!   Daylight was fast leaving us,  and yet as far as we could see,  there was no sign of trail in any direction,  and most importantly…there was not even the tiniest sign of trail or footprint seen back in the direction we had been coming from!   We split up a bit and combed every square inch of the snow covered meadow we were in to no avail.   We were hoplelessly lost.   Despondent, scared and knowing we had not much daylight left,  we had not a clue what to do to help ourselves!   Would we be forever lost,  eventually fading away to have only our bones found in the melting snows of spring?   What could we do to find our way again?!

Summer of 69 and most kids are in the throes of what later will be called “The Summer of Love” which began in 1967 and ended in 1969.   Despite hearing about all the activity and witnessing the changes happening around me,  or maybe because of the upheavals in the youth culture in this country,  I had but one goal on my mind…to experience all I could of the high wild places untouched by human hands that I could get to!     I had come to live in Montana during high school by the grace of my best friend’s parents who took me in and spent some time civilizing me.   During that time for whatever reason, they let my “sister,” (their daughter) and I go backpacking for 5 days all by ourselves in Glacier National Park,  even though I had only been backpacking twice in my life by this time,  and Sandy had never been.

I’m not sure what actually brought up the topic of backpacking,  but I distinctly remember Sandy saying her brother had a backpack and sleeping bag and equipment she could use,  so we went to the storage attic in the house we were living in on Prospect St.  in Helena to retrieve it all.  Sure enough, Michael had all the equipment Sandy would need and all we had to do was convince our folks to let us go,  that we could take care of ourselves “out there” and not get lost,  and come back in one piece. Surprisingly enough,  they consented without a struggle!   So, we packed our gear, loaded our beloved “Itsey Bit” MG Midget and off we went to Glacier National Park.   We arrived midmorning at the ranger station and pushed thru the wood framed screen door  approaching the ranger behind the old wooden counter to ask about a permit.   He didn’t take too many words telling us all the trailheads were closed.   Still early June,  the snows still lay thick on the passes.    I’m sure it must have been Sandy’s cute smile that convinced him to help us find something,  as he pulled his hat off,  scratched his head and put his finger on the map under the glass tracing out different trails looking for any options for us other than sending us away disappointed.   Finally he looked at us,  and said there was maybe one trail we could try.   It would take us in a nice loop from Piegan Pass trailhead off the famous “Going to the Sun” road,   below Mt Gould on the Garden Wall,   over Piegan pass itself,   past Grinnell Lake and Grinnell Glacier and other lakes whose names escape me now,   over another pass called Swiftcurrent Pass and back to the trailhead via the highline trail passing the Granite Park Chalet, where pampered guests stay who are willing to hike a tiny bit down the trail to stay in the delightfully“rustic” chalet .  We had not one clue what any of these places were,   but we felt honored that he had faith in us to make it through the snow covered passes and trails,   so we jumped at the opportunity he was giving us, and somehow it never managed to come up that we were a party of one brand new hiker and another still   “wet behind the ears” hiker!   And,  it never occurred to us that there was a reason these passes and trails were still closed to hikers.   But,  with permit secured tightly in hand,  out the door we went, to the car and up the road to the trailhead parking.

Hoisting our packs onto our backs,  we headed across the road and down the trail.  We were off on our adventure and were excited to see all that we would see over the next 5 days!

Our first adventure led us across the road we came in on and thru the trees into the snow where we had to criss cross the forest a few times to find pieces of trail or tree markings to lead the way.   At one point we found a short piece of plastic taping much like the police use for crime scenes marking the way. Some cross country skier must have left it earlier in the season.   Never dawned on us that we’d be wishing for more of that later!

Coming out of the trees and into the sunlight,  our eyes feasted on a variety of light colored rock that we’d be crossing on our way to the base of our first real challenge…a ridge traverse!   Eagerly we headed towards the rising trail in front of us,   enjoying the warm morning sun and the knowledge that we had 5 whole days in front of us to play out here in!   We chit chatted away as we made our way up the long steep pass.   Then somewhere near the top Sandy stopped.   I turned to see why her voice had faded away and when she told me her cup was gone,   my voice faded away too.   Being in grizzly country,  we had hung our metal cups on the outside of our packs to bang and ping away as we walked to warn the bears of our approach and hopefully get them to avoid us.   I looked at her pack in consternation,   and sure enough,   her pan was gone.   These shallow wide cups,   fondly called “sierra club cups”  by old time backpackers would serve a backpacker well for all foods and drinks.   No need to weigh yourself down with a heavy mess kit when you have a sierra club cup.   But, five days sharing one cup was not an option,  so,  since it was Sandy’s cup that had gone missing,  she volunteered…insisted really…to run back down the trail to find it.   I found myself a rock to sit on to wait with the packs so Sandy could run back down the trail unencumbered by her pack .    If our parents had only known how reckless we were separating like that…

I waited patiently at first.   It didn’t take long though for my imagination to run away with me.  What ifs ran through my mind in cascading avalanches!   But, none of those fears I had created came to fruition, as in what had seemed like hours,  but was probably only 20 -30 minutes,  a tired Sandy appeared back in sight waving the cup back and forth in a half hearted gesture of glorious conquest.  I was simply glad to have her back safe!   Separating was not something I’d be talked into easily again.
We hoisted packs once again and meandered over and down the ridge we were on,   recovering our spirits and once again enjoying the day.   We crossed a rocky plateau and started up our next climb of the day,  which spread before and above us.   And as we walked,  our gaze wandered up the pass ahead of us calculating the efforts needed to get over this pass.   Suddenly,  in unison we both stopped dead in our tracks.   There in front of us to the right of the pass climbing the steep rocks east of the pass, was a herd of white mountain goats!   We both exclaimed excitedly over these agile animals climbing up the steep cliffs grabbing the tiniest shelves of rocks with their cloven hooves!   A couple of kids frolicked on rock so sheer we wouldn’t have dreamed of being up there!   What fun!   What beauty! What an incredible first wildlife sighting for our trip!

Feeling blessed for our fortune in having sighted that herd,   we continued walking thru the light of day, chattering merrily about this and that as girls will.   It was just as the afternoon shadows were lengthening and the day was headed towards the night,  that we realized we were not on a beaten path any longer.    I’m not sure who pointed it out first,  but we both certainly looked at each other in consternation.  We had been chattering away so much that we hadn’t even realized that we had been walking on snow packed so hard into ice,  that  not the tiniest trace of foot prints showed.   We had no clue when we had last seen trail!    At first we wandered back and forth looking for any brief short patch of trail that might be peeking through the season’s melting snow.  We spread 20 and then 30 feet apart and tried the same.   Nothing!   Slowly realizing we could be in big trouble here…we discovered we didn’t even have a clue which way we had come from.   Though we were in the open at this point, we had been wandering in and out of tree cover and on this ice for so long that the last piece of trail could have been a mile back for all we knew.   It was obvious to us both though that we were nowhere near any trail now.    Having not the faintest idea which way to go,  we were stumped.   We talked of staying put.   We tried to use the only compass we had,  Sandy’s beloved brother’s compass,  but to our horror we discovered we had broken it somehow.   Finally,  not really knowing what to do,  but not wanting to just sit and wait as no alarms would be sounded for 5 days….we kept walking!   Both of us were very worried.    Chattering ceased though,  and we focused on nothing but finding the trail.   Eventually we were forced to give up finding the trail thought.   So,  we made the decision to walk,  and stuck to it.   And once we made that decision,  we did not argue about it.   It was a mutual decision. We then hiked until nearly full dark.   Panic was our constant companion.   Hiking mostly through flat meadow and intermittent tree cover,  suddenly a small hill loomed in front of us in the darkness.   We decided to climb it tired as we were.   Perhaps we could see a little more of what was around us from that rise.   We also decided we’d have to make camp very soon,  for hiking in the full darkness would be even more foolhardy as hiking blindly lost had been.   We topped the rise….and there,  spread before us in all it’s glory,  it’s gentle waters lapping the shore and shimmering yet in the spare light of twilight,  was Grinnell Lake.



(Grinnell Lake)

Grinnell Lake was our destination so much earlier that morning!   Two happier girls you would not find!   The two previously totally lost and scared girls stood there in the twilight sighing and immensely and immeasurably relieved.   We looked at each other,  we looked at the lake.   And we knew,  beyond a shadow of any doubt how lucky we were to be standing there in that exact spot looking at that exact lake after having been lost for hours in the wilderness!   With renewed energy we hastened down to the lake,  and picking a wonderfully flat clean spot to throw down our gear,  made camp!

That night we feasted on and relished a typical backpacking dinner that no self respecting person would touch in civilization.  We built a campfire to celebrate the existence of our wilderness skills.    For though we had been lost for hours,  and found our way completely and totally by accident and sheer luck,  nevertheless…we made it!
We fell asleep laying in the open gazing up at the stars and talking,  though we were so exhausted I don’t know how two words came out of either one of us.


(Sandy sitting in the morning sun at Grinnell Lake)

In the morning we awoke refreshed and ready to go!   Breakfast was the first order of business,  and that is when Sandy noted with dismay that there were holes and shredded fabric in several spots in her trusty pack.    What could have happened?   We both puzzled over the mess,  and it didn’t take too long to realize some nocturnal creature had very much enjoyed Sandy’s trail mix…and had gone to great lengths to pull it out of her pack…thru material and zippers and the plastic bag it was in.   The trail mix was unsalvageable…the pack we managed to patch together.   A pocket or two remained useless,  but with a little mismatching thread from an emergency sewing kit,  the pack bag itself would still hold her gear.
Eventually we packed up and headed up the trail. Finally our boots were marking time on a well worn path once again!

A day or so later,   approaching a large lake and a spur trail to the historic Many Glacier Hotel,  again we were talking and meandering down the trail that now cut through low lying thick brush for quite some time, when as one we stopped dead in our tracks.   Right smack in front of us was a creature seemingly so large and so wide that he took the whole single track trail up in front of us.   Slowly we backed, giving way to the animal making it’s way toward us.   Having never seen a porcupine before, and not realizing how big they can be, it actually took a moment for us to realize what this strange looking animal pushing us back up the trail was!   For that is exactly what happened….the porcupine had no interest in us, and simply no fear either, and was clearly used to getting his way!   And we were not going to be the exception as we let him push us back.   We backed until we found a narrow place to squeeze through the bushes and off the trail.   The porcupine meanwhile gave us no thought whatsoever as he meandered on his way past us on whatever mission he was on!   We slipped back onto the trail, shaking our heads at how easily he had maneuvered us and grateful and excited yet again for being able to experience something so awesome and wild!


(View looking down on Bullhead Lake...that night's destination)

As our trip neared it’s end, we had one last night. We had had a long day including many miles and had hiked way too far and into the night.   Realizing we weren’t going to make it to the camp we had yearned for, we pulled off into a wide spot near the trail and started to set up camp.   Before we got too set though,  we heard a voice calling out to us.   Stopping what we were doing, we took time out to meet Ray.   Ray was about our age and was traveling across the country.   That got our attention!   Ray said he had a camp set up a few minutes away and that maybe we should join him at his camp,  explaining that a grizzly had attacked a young girl our age the week before at exactly the same spot we were camped!  Sandy and I looked at each other and decided Ray was less threatening than the grizzly that frequented this area!   So, we repacked our gear and followed Ray to his camp.     A cozy fire was already set and we had a fun evening swapping stories!




(Sandy, morning at Bullhead Lake Camp)


In the light of morning, we all ate and packed and started hiking.  An easy 13 miles greeted us…all downhill!   We hiked past Granite Park Chalet, a rustic backcountry lodge in Glacier accessed only via foot.   Switchbacks and panoramic views were our constant companion that last day in stunning Glacier National Park and all too soon we reached civilization.

For two young teens,  the memories of an adventure of a lifetime were our reward for all the hard miles we hiked.     The only casualties were a silver dollar sized blister on one of my heels,  and a few handsewn seams on Sandy’s pack.  And the mishaps we had, served as valuable lessons in the backcountry for years to come!

Autumn

(El Capitan across the Merced River )


Autumn

Standing outside with the breeze on my face,

Enjoying autumn's changes and her calm new pace.

The animals have quieted, their frenzy abating

Winter's coming and they are just waiting...

Leaves flitting about on their journey to the ground,

It's a quieter time, enjoy it all, nature settling down.

All In A Day's Work

Easy Day Hike - Wilder State Park in California. The Old Cove Landing Trail can be combined with the Ohlone Bluff Trail for a 3.75 mile hike one way. Continue to Four Mile Beach for a 10.5 mile round trip hike or ride.

Why don't you join horse patrol with us? It's a great way to give back to the community.   I look at my friend who's saying this to me and am mentally shaking my head.  If she only knew how much I give to the community everyday I work at 911.   But, the idea rolls round and round in my head until finally it takes root a couple of years later and I decide to go for it and ride the trails of my favorite park while in uniform.
Wilder State Park is a wonderful place,  unique and beautiful and really like no place else I've been,  and I call this park home.  So I finally decide to start helping protect this lovely park and help others to enjoy it too while riding the trails in uniform.

What I don't know when I sign on to start helping in this park is that there is an incredible trail normally closed to horses that horse patrolers are allowed to ride.  The Old Cove/Bluff/Ohlone Trail starts at the visitor center parking lot and swings out along Wilder Beach and goes the distance along the bluffs to Four Mile Beach and beyond.  While cruising this gem of a trail,  pelicans fly in formation overhead,  in a V just like ducks.   Seagulls swoop this way and that.  Harbor Seals sun themselves on the low cut cliffs below.  An occasional pod of dolphins frolics in the surf as they cruise by in the cool water below us.  Bunnies and squirrels run this way and that being very very busy out there in this wild place they call home.  And even on the ride to the trailhead if you are an astute observer,  you might see one of the parks long tailed weasels scampering about as we did.

Today, my friend and I rode that trail once again.   Today's ride took us beyond where we'd ridden previously.  Sheer cliff faces,  multihued turquoise waters,  birds dipping,  soaring and flying all about, seals sunning themselves and then taking turns jumping off the rocky point to cool off in the ocean and lovely little yellow wildflowers left of the summer's abundance alternately charmed us and then took our breath away as we cruised along the cliffs of Wilder above the open ocean savoring every minute we were privileged to patrol the land's edge of our enchanting coastline.  All in a day's work for Wilder's Mounted Horse Patrol.

Rattler

Wilder State Park, Wilder Ridge via "Lookout," easy dayhike/horseback ride/bike

I distinctly remember my first encounter with a rattler. I puzzled over the sound of the rattles...and thought I would never hear another school sprinkler without thinking of a rattler as that is precisely what the rattles sounded like.  (Say Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch very rapidly.)   I also won't forget the look of abject terror in the little guy's eyes as he looked up at me after I threw water on him and came ever so close to stepping on him. We both jumped away from each other,  then stopped to look....then both went our own separate ways.    I gained a very different perspective that day about snakes.  I learned they feared.   I learned they really weren't aggressive.   I learned you could be safe if you stopped threatening.

I think all these thoughts crossed through my mind in a second on a ride last week when I was trapped on one side of the trail with my friend on the other side of a rattler who had his rattles sticking straight up in the air warning us with all his might that we'd just better not mess with him.

We were just moseying down the trail on this particular day enjoying some sun we hadn't seen much of lately.   Suddenly there was a scurrying underneath my friend's horse's legs and a big commotion that took me a second to puzzle out.    I saw her look down from her horse just as the rattler stuck his tail in the air and started warning her in no uncertain terms to move on!   She did!   She kept riding and didn't stop til she was 20 feet or so away....meanwhile,  being in the back,  I had stopped dead in my tracks a safe distance back on the trail.   Discussing what to do,  finally our rattling friend solved the issue by lowering his noisy flag and moving off.   I practiced a very nice gait transition...a standstill to a fast trot moving past his last resting spot post haste!

We were all none the less for wear including the snake,  and oddly enough,  neither of our horses could have cared less!   So much for all those horses rearing up and stomping on those evil snakes in the movies!:)

Wilder Summer Morning Ride

Wilder State Park, Englemann's Loop, moderate day hike or ride

Gentle swishing sounds of tall grasses sweeping against our horse's legs and the fog formed cool,  crisp air replace the quiet chatter that has gone on during the earlier part of the morning's ride.   For now,  all has been said,  and we three friends simply enjoy the peace of the morning's ride together as we journey on our faithful mounts soaking up the beauty of the open grasslands we're trekking through.

Spring

Spring

Shoots of green
Petals of gold
Up comes the new
To replace the old!

Spring is here
Summer’s on the way
Get up and get out
And play Play PLAY!

(Gary is standing in these lovely Bigelows Sneezeweeds heading south on the John Muir Trail coming out of Evolution Valley)

Storm!

Storm!


12.7 miles round trip, on trail moderate overnighter. Hetch Hetchy, Yosemite National Park.

Huddled down on my sleeping pad by the side of the rock that barely hit my shoulders,  yet desparately trying to crouch lower,  I feel the rain drip slowly down the back of my neck.  The storm rages,  the hail falls bigger and bigger,  and I wonder just how long I can stay in that cramped position.   My thighs burn from squatting, my shoulders and head protest the pummeling of the thumbnail sized hail,  and my thoughts run amuck in fear.

As the storm first approached,  and it’s intensity dictated I find a position of safety,  my eyes hunted frantically for something to hide under,  and it was then I noticed the wasteland the forest around me had become.   Towering firs and pines once majestic in their reach to the sky,  had been stricken down in the primes of their lives, reduced to barren sticks pointing feebly at the now lowering sky.    It was quite obvious to me that these silent sentinels had one by one each been victim to the catastrophic force of lightning storms.    Not finding much confidence after gazing at the landscape around me, nevertheless,  I had to find a safe haven somewhere near at hand.   The trees I knew for sure that could protect me would necessitate a climb up over a barren ridge,  I would not be headed that way soon. Turning back towards another copse of trees,  I realized would also dictate a climb up an exposed ridge. No other options presented themselves but the puny boulder barely shoulder high a few feet away.   So I grabbed my pad to perch on,  tossed my metal tent poles a safe distance away,  and hunkered down next to it to wait out the worst of the storm hurling itself towards me.

Earlier that afternoon I had stood at my car going over a mental checklist to make sure I had everything I had wanted to pack in.    I was quite anxious to begin the hiking season,  and had set out in early May to hike in an area of Yosemite National Park called Hetch Hetchy.   Checklist satisfied,  and finally ready to undertake this solo journey,  I hoisted my pack and headed for the tunnel.    The tunnel is about 500 feet blasted out of the mountain on the eastern side of the dam built to serve the citizens of San Francisco City.   The saunter across the dam and through the tunnel signifies the official start of this trek.    So through the tunnel I went with pack fully loaded,  and finally I stepped out onto the beginning of my trail.

The spotty clouds and sparkly clean air had me looking forward to an idyllic escape into the wilderness. I sauntered leisurely up the trail with camera in hand.   Pictures of beautiful seasonal wildflowers and roaring waterfalls captured my attention and would fill empty spaces on the walls in my house someday.   I passed chameleons and carpets of green lawn and glistening granite polished smooth by the eons of ice and later storms having graced their surfaces.    By the time I got close to the first of the major waterfalls along my way,   I noticed the sparkly fun sky was starting to darken and close around me.   Add to that mildly distressing change,  the roar of the waterfall ahead sounded like a freight train coming around the corner and straight for me!

I rounded the corner and stood gawking at the sight of the falls in front of me.    The falls were in full snow melt,  and they didn’t just drift gently to the ground.   These falls leapt away from the cliff like buffalo being herded to their deaths.   One hundred fireman standing with fire hoses at the top couldn’t have produced the display the snow running out of the mountains that early spring did.   The well made bridge painstakingly crafted at the bottom of the falls to aid travelers across this stream suddenly looked woefully inadequate.    And sure enough,  as I drew slowly closer,  I saw that the bridge in fact was inundated.   At first glance it seemed it would be a near suicidal act to cross it’s once sturdy seeming beams.  Trepidation gripped my soul and made me look frantically for other places to cross this raging water.   Seeing no other choices however,  I resolved to cross!   A study of the terrain below the bridge allowed me to figure should I get swept off,  I would not be plunged into the reservoir below after all,  but could somehow stop my downward plunge by grabbing amidst the rocks that lay between the bridge and the cliff.   So I put on my rain jacket and rain pants,  pulled up the hood over my head cinching it down tight,  and bravely put my foot on the first step of the bridge.

Spray showered over me and water slapped at my legs.   I knew the best approach would be to just plunge headlong across the bridge to the other side,  so that is what I did.   Before I got to the other side though,  water pushed and surged against my thighs and spray drenched my clothes and pack and made me grateful I had not forgotten my rain jacket.   Half way across this recently and solidly constructed bridge built to see travelers safely past these horrendous skyscraper falls,  I looked down to see one railing already knocked out and several bricks washed away.    I stifled the fear that threatened to overwhelm me and pushed on against the force of the water.   After an eternity,  I finally reached the other side and grabbed the pack off my back and let it sink to the ground where I would follow suit.   I splurged on my time with a short rest from my adrenaline pumping ordeal.   I shook the loose water from my clothes and caught my breath.   After a brief rest,  I hefted my pack back onto my shoulders and headed back up the trail.

Confident my biggest hurdle was out of the way,  I looked forward to an uneventful stroll into camp.   I enjoyed the green grasses of spring, and the sporadic seasonal waterways running in every crease and crevice.   Wildflowers were starting to pop up in an unending array of colors,  and the afternoon wore on pleasantly during my stroll south along the reservoir.   I was having such a pleasant walk that it was quite some time before I noticed the sun had evaporated completely while clouds now covered the spaces above me.   Suddenly realizing I needed to hurry to camp and batten down the hatches before the storm hit,   I put away my camera and stepped up my pace.    It was on my approach to the final climb before camp that the storm caught up to me.   The few stray drops that had threatened and laughed at me,  turned suddenly into raging,  pounding and angry hail.   I started hurrying up the hill and was almost to the top when rounding a corner I ran right into a fresh mud slide.   The slide would probably have not even slowed my pace,  but there was the most gigantic car sized boulder sitting smack dab in the middle of the slide blocking the whole trail.   And,  the muddy slick trail traversed a steep hillside.  I stood for a moment wondering how in the world I could get around it when I realized finally the only way around it was over.   Very gently I started to climb.   I slipped in the slick mud and grabbed at the now exposed tree roots in the hillside to keep me from sliding down the hill.    I managed finally to clamber over the top of the boulder and while trying to keep my now muddy hands from sabatoging my clothes,  I hurried once again to the top of the incline and hopefully camp!   A few minutes later a huge sigh of relief slipped past my lips as I reached the top and came out on the flats.   Now looking around for a place to set up my tent and crawl in,  I got a terrible sinking feeling when I saw that not a fraction of a piece of ground was dry.   Not only was the ground saturated with rain,  but every inch of the surface around me was a streaming torrent of water. The storm was much more intense now,  and water was coming out of the sky in much heavier volume than I had realized.  Between the gray skies,  the streaming wet ground and the fear that the falls a couple of hours behind me would be too heavy to cross if I waited til the next day to try,  I turned tail to run back the way I came to try and get back over the bridge before that treacherous crossing trapped me  and kept me away from my family and friends.

Down the hill and over the car sized boulder I went once again,  past the ankle and arm grabbing newly exposed roots I ran.   It was at the bottom of that hill and before the next climb,  that the head pounding hail and slashing lightning finally caught me.    Hail the size of marbles pummeled my head making me sure my scalp was turning into a mass of welts.   Lightning seared the sky,  torturing me with the knowledge that any moment now it would quit playing with me and send a bolt straight at me!    Thunder clapped my ears deafeningly,  and seemingly damaged my ear drums.   Nevertheless,  here is where I had to make my stand.   At this spot is where I saw all the previous lightning storms victims standing with tortured bare outstretched limbs.   Here is where I realized any way out for me would be up exposed ridgelines.   And here,  is where I tossed my metal tent poles away from me,  grabbed my rubber sleeping pad to insulate me from the dangerously wet lightning charged ground,  and hunkered down to wait out the worst of it.

After a few minutes,  my legs were burning from crouching,  and the cold was starting to chill straight through to my bones.   I was more or less dry as I had my rain jacket back on by this time,  but my fleece sweater was tucked safely away inside my pack where it would stay dry,  yet would do me good as I grew more and more chilled by the minute.   Finally in desparation,  I managed to pull out the sweater and exposed myself by pulling off my jacket to put on the sweater and then put the jacket back on again.   This all seemed to take an eternity as I accomplished it all while crouching next to the boulder and trying to keep my head low.   Now I was warmer,  but my legs began to cramp from crouching.  How long could I stay like this?   Lightning continued to strike 360 degrees around me and the bolts were in ones and twos and threes and even sheets all around me.   Eventually though,  the hail started to slack off and become smaller pea sized bullets,  and the thunder and lightning started to distance themselves so that there was actually a delay between the strikes of lightning and the crashing of the thunder.   The fear that had a death grip on my heart gradually started to loosen it’s stranglehold. I was done for the day though and thoughts of camping were long gone.   All I wanted to do now was get back to my car and head for the safety of the low lying valley!   Finally I picked up my ejected tent poles and shoving them back under my pack flap,  I headed back up the trail retracing the steps I had made only hours earlier.   Though it seemed like days,  I made record time back to the tunnel, the dam and the parking lot.   Not even the falls and their staggering amount of water stopped me.    When a bit later I reached the civilization of a pay phone,  I stopped to call my honey and let him know my change in plans.   It was at this point that Gary told me this storm was so violent that it had produced tornados…one of which had torn the roof off of a nearby barn.   Hearing this news,  I stopped trying to lick my wounds so hard and contented myself with the knowledge that I had just done two days worth of miles in one day through hail,  lightning and mudslides…and lived to tell the tale!

There is a reason I chose this hike...my tale not doing it justice!   Check your weather forecast and head out to view two of Yosemite's premier falls,  Wapama and Tueeulala Falls along the way to Rancheria Falls.   Not many places as beautiful as this are available in the spring to hikers,  when the high country lays under snow.   But,  Hetch Hetchy displays it's magical waterfalls and colorful wildflowers early in the spring...don't miss them!