It's positively sizzling outside and I won't look at the thermometer. Knowing the exact triple digits will not bring relief, so why bother.
Hot is hot no matter what the number.
Which makes the current task of gathering warm layers needed for my week on the trail ironic and painful. I don't want to even handle these harbingers of heat. They seem kind of revolting today.
The down puffy. The wooly knit beanie. The ultra-insulated long underwear.
Into my pack they go.
A few days later, I am back in love with my warmies. The high-altitude sun flirts with monsoonal clouds streaming in from the southeast. The shade creates a shiver and oh-yeah, these warm layers are so nice.
Such twists are unavoidable when launching from Southern California.
The heat, however, this intense and not-really-diminishing heat puts you face to face with climate breakdown. This shit is real and it's starting to get scary.
Hiking into the high country does give you some cool-down. But the Sierra range is suffering its own fever.
Notice the low water levels. The pine die-off. And the lack of year-round snow fields.
It's heartbreaking.
The what and how and why all point to a hot planet that takes all the rain elsewhere - usually where it's not needed - leaving the places that really need it - literally high and dry.
And ridiculously hot.
But - yes - we had a great hike. The water isn't gone (although way too warm for its own good) and the forest still looms large, but up close you can see the fragility.
And getting up there (and way out there) is still a nice - if not totally necessary - reprieve from the city noise and digital media barrage. Even when the climate is on a freak-out.
Where else can you doze off in your tent for a midafternoon nap, listen to the whooshing sound of the pine crests catching the wind, then as if I might be half dreaming - hearing Ed strumming a Jackson Brown tune on his back-packing guitar - those chords floating - and Brooke chiming in with the harmonies.
It's all so angelic and other worldly. A memory made in perpetuity.
These special times are worth all the effort. But it can be hard to get momentum.
Make it happen. Plan. Do the things required. Redo the plan again. Then get the heck out there. You need special moments like this more than ever.
Some photos:
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Horses and mules. A common sight near the trailhead.
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Hikers. Another common sight near the trailhead.
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Boys will be boys.
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Daughter and father. And Russ.
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Los tres amigos.
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2nd Lake.
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The northeast face of Mt. Huntington, 12,355 ft.
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Sage, desert paintbrush, and granite in the morning light.
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Russ takes in the morning.
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Off road, off trail, off grid.
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Thomas will always chuckle at your bad joke.
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Guitar and two vocals. Ed and Brooke.
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Purple flower majesty.
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A rock scans its territory on Davis Lake.
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A bear scratched the tree.
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Magic? I'll never know.
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Sometimes you need to figure out the way when the trail ends.
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Osprey. If you're a fish, swim for your life.
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A beautiful little lagoon.
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Bearproof food containers. Mandatory in the wilderness here.
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Mt. Huntington follows you everywhere.
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Got a problem? Call The Squad. We'll be sure to make things worst.
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You really don't want to be anywhere else.
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