July 5. Day 65.

Wilma Lake to PCT mile 1005.9.

Miles hiked: 19

Pretty mellow day, topography-wise, particularly compared to the last few days. Got hiking by 6:15 and promptly had to wade a shallow stream then decided to stop and wring m socks out before continuing. Saw a Common Merganser and a half dozen chicks on this creek.

Then for the next 8 or 10 miles the trail just sort of barely climbed up Jack Main Canyon, following Falls Creek upstream. We were in and out of Lodgepole forest and a long open meadow along the stream bank, and the walking was exceedingly pleasant. It was sunny but not too warm, and the miles drifted by. The two main things of note were that there were a bunch of Chipping Sparrows, and I had to unpack my pack a bit to show a ranger my permit and bear can, just about 2 miles short of where bear cans are no longer required. I took a break for brunch just after that, and when I finally caught up with the 2 other hikers who'd passed while I was rummaging for my permit, they thought I'd been being "hassled" by the ranger that whole time.

I caught up with them (Gravy, who's full trail name turns out to be Gravy Crockett, and Meadow Mouse) along with Scorpia, Rainbow, and Love It Or Leave It at Dorothy Lake, a beautiful big blue oval set below some high jagged peaks just before the Yosemite boundary. It sort of seemed like this was the last of the high Sierra-type terrain for a while, and a fitting farewell to Yosemite. 

Dorothy Lake.

After crossing the park line, the trail descended down past a few more lakes and along a tumbling stream. I took a long siesta where the trail crossed a narrow log over the stream, at about mile 999, finishing my book and munching trail mix then getting a bit of sleep before the sun found me and threatened to burn he bottoms of my feet.

I woke and packed quickly, for some reason feeling a bit lonely and like I was being left behind. I hurried along, checking and rechecking the map to make sure I didn't miss the 1000 mile point. I wasn't quite sure what to expect of my emotions when I got there, wasn't sure if I would feel a sense of accomplishment or just be happy or think about the 16-hundred-odd I still have to go. When I fit saw the little arrangement of rocks I felt silly for thinking I might miss it, it was right in the middle of the trail (though a section hiker just in front of me saw it but somehow didn't realize what it was). And it was a bit anticlimactic getting there; for some reason it didn't feel much different than the mile before or the mile after. Just one more on this long walk, it just happens to be a nice round number. I have been reflecting some the last few days on the passage of distance and time. It seems like days and miles are passing so quickly. I living the Theory of Relativity; I'm traveling so slowly, but time seems to be passing to quickly. It seems so recent that I was sitting on that grungy couch at Hiker Town; or running short of water the day before Walker Pass; or sitting in the shade for 6 or 7 hours at Tylerhorse Canyon after beating the heat across the floor of the Mojave. The day's tend to blend together somewhat, but some of these memories remain so vivid.

After 1000 the trail continued on down toward some place called Walken Meadow, which seemed like any other meadow we've passed but for some reason got its own waypoint on the Halfmile map; I wonder what the story is there. 

As the trail dropped further into this little canyon, the geology changed dramatically from slabby granite to what I think is the cores of old volcanoes sticking up through shales and conglomerates and all of it crumbling together into what seems to me a confusing mess. But it's so beautiful; big long dirty-red ridges, apparently too-well drained or with poor soil because they're mostly bare of vegetation, except in places where sage grows in pale green swaths. Improbable looking towers and pinnacles march along ridge lines. Down in the canyons the lupine and columbine and paintbrush and many others I don't know grow thick along little streams.

I got to the last water for another 10 miles at about mile 1006 by 5:30, and sat by the creek with Scorpia, Rainbow, and Love It ..., having a fun time just enjoying the sun and sound is the water and the great feeling at the end of this pretty easy day. Shenanigans and AZ caught up in time for dinner, and now we have a pretty good crew camped out in this little grove of Lodgepoles at the foot of a climb up on to what is supposed to be an "epic" ridge walk to Sonora Pass. In the stead of big peaks, tonight a huge bulbous thunderhead showed the alpenglow as the sun dipped west over the horizon.

Birds:

Mountain Chickadee 

Olive-sided Flycatcher 

American Robin 

Western Wood-pewee 

Brown Creeper 

Golden-crowned Kinglet 

Cassin's Finch 

Red-winged Blackbird 

Yellow-rumped Warbler 

Red-breasted Nuthatch 

Common Merganser 

Pine Siskin

Stellar's Jay 

Hermit Thrush 

Hairy Woodpecker 

Western Tanager 

White-crowned Sparrow 

Song Sparrow 

Lincoln's Sparrow 

Chipping Sparrow 

Wilson's Warbler 

Rock Wren 

White-breasted Nuthatch 

Townsend's Solitaire 

Black-backed Woodpecker 

July 4. Day 64.

Smedburg Lake to Wilma Lake (mile 986.9).

Miles hiked: 18.5.

Today's hike began with a steep descent down towards Benson Lake, the trail first circling around the base of Volunteer Peak, a tall triangle of rock rising 1000 feet above Smedburg Lake, then dropping down tight switchbacks hewn into a narrow band of dirt and trees running down the mountain, flanked on both sides by cliffs. At the bottom of these switchbacks the trail joined a small creek cutting steeply down through light granite then into reds and browns and dark grays of a type I couldn't ID. The sky was heavy and humid and the color of ash. Somewhere along the creek I heard a Pacific Wren, I'm pretty sure the first of the trip.

Headin' down thataway.

Finally down to the bottom, in a stand of massive Red Firs, some 4 or 5 feet across, I flushed a large raptor from near the trail. A pair of Stellar's Jays set about mobbing it when it landed, but even with their help I couldn't find it in the dense canopy in the time allotted me by the mosquitoes. I think it might have been a Great Horned Owl, but I really can't say for sure.

This is called something like Little Elephant Head.

The climb back up was as steep as the descent and still muggy. The topography here is totally different than further south. The mountains are still made of the same light granite, but the canyons are steep and narrow and V-shaped and the high country between them often has flat little meadows or small lakes right next to the passes. The trail took us down into and back up out of 3 deep canyons today, feeling like a lot more up and down than in the high Sierra. It's the sort of topography your water bottle notices, collapsing on descents of just a mile or so.

Up near Seavey Pass.

In plant news, I'm now getting in to Western Hemlock country, and also started seeing elderberry today. There is also a beautiful lupine with dark red or purple stems. At these lower elevations (got down below 8,000 feet a few times today) I'm also seeing many more butterflies, and also saw the first lizards I've seen since somewhere before Kennedy Meadows.

After taking a nap in Kerrick Canyon, the second of the day, AZ and another couple I've seen a few times since Kennedy Meadows, named Driver and Pit Stop, caught up with me and we leapfrogged together the rest of the day. I asked AZ about Kobaine, who I last saw at KM and who  had hiked with AZ since the beginning, and apparently he is now off the trail in some sort of bar tending academy in Ventura. Crazy turn of events. 

AZ and Driver, trying to keep feet dry.

We all arrived to Wilma Lake about the same time, along with Shenanigans who I'd also seen a few times over the course of the afternoon. We all set up next to each other, and chatted a bit over dinner while swatting mosquitoes. Driver had a McDonalds cheeseburger for dinner, which he had packed all the way from Mammoth Lakes. He said he started with 12 and is now just down to a couple left. He gave one to AZ who is running a bit low. You see some crazy food choices out here. A couple deer grazed along the lakeshore at dark, while I watched from the protection of my bug net.

Wilma Lake sunset.

Birds:

Spotted Sandpiper 

Northern Flicker 

White-crowned Sparrow 

Oregon Junco- nest, 2 eggs

Yellow-rumped Warbler 

American Robin 

Clark's Nutcracker 

Sooty Grouse

Hermit Thrush 

Mountain Chickadee 

Stellar's Jay 

Brown Creeper 

Cassin's Finch 

Pacific Wren 

Wilson's Warbler 

Fox Sparrow 

Olive-sided Flycatcher 

Golden-crowned Kinglet 

Hammond's Flycatcher 

Red-breasted Nuthatch 

Mountain Quail 

July 2. Day 62.

Tuolumne Meadows to Glen Aulin High Sierra Camp (PCT mile 948.3).

Miles hiked: 6

Unexpectedly for the Sierra at this time of year, it ended up raining off and on most of the night, to the chagrin of those hikers who went to bed a bit to drunk to properly set up their tents or tarps. I spent most of the at the picnic tables in front of the store, thoroughly entertained by hiker hijinx and the comings and goings of tourists from around the world. I'm pretty sure I even saw Fred Becky, a classic old Yosemite climber, walk through the parking lot carrying a school backpack with a rolled up blue foam pad tied to the outside. Hikers came and went, some head in up the trail, some hitching to Tahoe or the coast or somewhere. New and familiar faces settled in to the crowd with pints of ice cream or cheeseburgers. 4-5 guys used a bottle of bourbon to improve their perceived hacky sack skills. Someone found a ziplock bag with a fist sized ball of hair labeled "lamb's wool", and this spent most of the day on one of the tables, the source of much laughter every half hour or so. Clouds built through the day but never amounted to much more than a few sprinkles.

Cathedral Peak collecting weather.

Around 5 I finally peeled myself away and struck out across the meadow. Cathedral Peak and the tall domes and spires all around it scratched up at the billowy, moody clouds, which themselves cast a patchwork of sunlight over the landscape. When in sunlight, the meadows glowed green. The trail loosely followed the Tuolumne River down stream. A half dozen mule deer bucks grazed along the river banks, their antlers velvety. With the big dramatic granite in he background and the river and meadows they looked like one of those hunter fantasy paintings you can buy from Cabela's and hang up in your hunting cabin or workshop or garage.

After 4 or so miles the trail began dropping down in to the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne, which eventually is plugged with the Hetch Hetchy Dam. I read somewhere that John Muir considered the valley flooded by that dam to be equal or perhaps superior to Yosemite Valley in splendor. 

Looking down toward the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne.

The sky darkened as the trail wound down over big granite slabs and ramps made of bowling ball rocks. The sky darkened and thunder rolled through the valley. Scattered rain drops mixed with the mist of Tuolumne Falls as the trail bent by it, the river plunging down a cliff flanked with big rounded granite bedrock.

Down to the Glen Aulin High Sierra camp about 7:30. There is a whole series of these camps in Yosemite, and guests can basically day hike between them with a small pack, then stay in tent cabins and have meals at the camps. There is a section off to the side for hikers to camp, complete with toilets and a faucet with treated water. The camp was crowded but I found a flattish spot and set up under bi raindrops, then sat around a fire with some other they hikers and some backpackers.

Birds:

Brewer's Blackbird 

Song Sparrow 

Mountain Bluebird 

Cassin's Finch 

Brown Creeper 

Oregon Junco 

Hermit Thrush 

Chipping Sparrow 

Western Wood-pewee 

July 3. Day 63.

Glen Aulin to Smedburg Lake (mile 968.4)

Miles hiked: 20.1.

Some rain and the flash-boom started up around 2 this morning, and of course since it woke me up I also had to get up and pee right then. It turned out OK, since the rain lasted only a few minutes (just about long enough for me to decide to use my water scoop in stead of going out and getting wet), and when I went outside the moonlight was divided through the thinning clouds, casting a soft glow through the trees.

Much of the hiking today was through closed in Lodgepole forest with occasional Red Fir copses. There were only occasional long views out toward peaks silhouetted in the low sunlight and haze of this surprisingly humid morning. My mind was left to wander, from wilderness ethics to the details of the book I'm reading to different styles of thru hiking to the antics of the hikers at Tuolumne to wondering whether any of the juncos I was hearing were actually Chipping Sparrows. After 4-5 miles the trail crossed a few meadows being overtaken by the steady march of trees, then dropped down into then climbed out of a canyon, and deposited me on the shores of Miller Lake just in time for a long lunch. I'm aiming for 20 mile days up to Echo Pass, and since I'd already done about 12 by noon, I stayed at Miller for about 2.5 hours. Where the trail passes the lakeshore, there is a thin band of straw colored coarse sand; around to the right side is a grassy shore with pretty flat bathymetry; and to the left are steep little cliffs plunging in to deeper water. I went left and found a flat rock in the shade just before it got cliffy. Stripped and jumped in and got out to warm in the sun, then settled in with snacks and the book. Meanwhile a few backpackers arrived at the beach and proceeded to have a 15 minute debate about whether or not to go swimming. I was tempted to yell across the water that it's a pretty easy decision, either get in or don't, but ended up holding my tongue. 

Miller Lake.

Eventually all the shade was gone from my rock so I took that as a sign to keep walking. The trail next dropped down in to the stunning Matterhorn Canyon, which I guess drains down from Matterhorn Peak. The were tall jagged ridges and high hanging valleys to the east. The geology seemed different too: the rock seemed to have more block-like fractures here, rather than the flaming that you see around Tuolumne. The canyon also seemed cut by liquid water, rather than glaciers (but there were the hanging valleys).

Matterhorn Canyon.

The climb out of this canyon was a bit warm and steep in places. Now that we're off the JMT, the trail is a bit less well maintained and has some steeper sections; pretty fun. We climbed up a side canyon, then up and out of that canyon and over Benson Pass. Similar to Goodale, this pass was a big flat saddle with a few hardy alpine forbs clinging to the course sand. At just a bit over 10,000 feet, this pass was below treeline, and Lodgepoles grew singly or in small groups. I hung out there for a bit with Fix It and Pinenut, who used to be Air and who I met at Warner Springs (mile 106) but haven't seen since. 

It was just a few more miles down to Miller Lake, through alpine meadows and down big steps of granite slabs. Set up camp along the lakeshore, prepared for rain and mosquitoes, and ate a too-spicy dinner while the thin clouds turned electric orange and pink.

Smedburg Lake sunset.

Birds:

Brown Creeper 

Cassin's Finch 

Clark's Nutcracker 

American Robin 

Red-breasted Nuthatch 

Mountain Chickadee 

Oregon Junco 

Yellow-rumped Warbler 

Western Wood-pewee 

Hammond's Flycatcher 

Pine Siskin

Golden-crowned Kinglet 

White-breasted Nuthatch 

White-crowned Sparrow 

Stellar's Jay 

Northern Flicker 

Brewer's Blackbird 

July 1. Day 61.

Mile 931.7 to Tuolumne Meadows (mile 942-ish).

Miles hiked: 'bout 10.

Finished the last of the descent down in to Lyell Canyon, past bleary-eyed JMT hikers on just their 3rd or 4th morning, trying to figure out where to put all their things. The big peaks were pale in the early light, and down Along the valley floor the seed heads of the grass sparkled white with dew.

Lyell Canyon from above.

Now out along the valley, the trail following along to the side of the river, both leading down the broad steep-sided valley. Passing more hikers, some of them not paying much attention and getting startled when I come up behind them. The clouds have built up early today and there are a few scattered raindrops as early as 9.

Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne.

Strolled in to the Tuolumne Meadows Store around 10 and settle in for the day. I'm planning to at least stay the night, and I'm not really feeling like pushing big miles over the next week, so sort of decide not to leave until tomorrow afternoon, and take perhaps a day longer to get to Echo Lake. So I have a pretty relaxing day. There are a handful of picnic tables under some Lodgepoles next to the parking lot for the combo store/post office/grilled food place, and sprawled out over on and around these tables was your standard collection of thru hikers and their dirty little piles of stuff and we boxes of food being leveraged into bear cans. I took up my spot on a table, got a peach and an avocado to go with my granola, and settled down to enjoy the show. 

Hiker zone at Tuolumne.

Spent most of the day like that, listening to stories of the trail and of parties hikers had found themselves a part of down in Yosemite Valley. I found a crime novel in the hiker box and started working through it, tentatively at first, not sure if I really wanted to read it. But I've been missing reading more and more as the trip's gone on, so I've got to fill the need somehow. Maybe I'll add a kindle. I got my food box and the package with my big net and wandered up to the backpackers camping area to set up, where strangely a lot of car campers have managed to camp also. I'm set up next to a couple brothers from Oregon, taking a roundabout road trip to New York. 

Rain threatened all afternoon but never really happened, so in the evening after hanging out by my tarp, ready to dive in for cover, I headed back down to the store to get a few veggies to have along with the ramen I got from the hiker box. There was a bit of a hiker party going on by the picnic tables, so I also got another beer and hung out there a while. Back to camp and dinner eaten I crawled into bed and tried to write my journal while more and more drunk hikers arrived and noisily set up camp all around me.

Birds:

Yellow-rumped Warbler 

Oregon Junco 

American Robin 

Hairy Woodpecker 

White-crowned Sparrow 

Ruby-crowned Kinglet 

Brewer's Blackbird 

Hammond's Flycatcher 

Red-winged Blackbird 

Brown Creeper 

Song Sparrow 

Mountain Chickadee 

Clark's Nutcracker 

Western Wood-pewee 

June 30. Day 60.

Mile 912 to 931.7.

Miles hiked: 19.7.

Slept in to the luxurious hour of about 6:30, but then a buzzing mosquito got me up and moving pretty quickly. It was just a few more miles to Agnew Meadow, where a few day hikers were headed out for adventure and the damp green meadow nearly glowed in the early light. The trail then began to climb up the eastern slope of the canyon, with the din of he San Joaquin growing fainter and fainter below. On up through scattered Lodgepoles then out into open sage with little streams running down the hill all thickety with willow and paintbrush and some scattered Monkshood and seemingly endless Lupine. Green-tailed Towhees and Brewer's Sparrows sang from the sage, and near one of the creeks I flushed a Sooty Grouse and at least 3 half sized fledglings. 

Looking south toward Devils Postpile and the Silver Divide on the horizon.

Up near the head of the canyon I took a break on a granite slab in the sun by a shallow pond to have brunch and lay out my stuff to dry. My sleeping bag was mostly dry, but my jackets, tarp, backpack and pack cover were all a bit damp since I'd camped down in the humid bottom of the canyon not far from the river. That done I continued on, past 1000 Island Lake with its 75-odd islands and Banner Peak looming huge above it, then on over the inconspicuous Island Pass and down into a broad basin with the headwaters of Rush Creek, which is one of the creeks flowing in to Mono Lake. Somewhere along here some hikers going he other way asked me how far it was to the lake. I figured they meant 1000 Island Lake, but couldn't help myself and said, "There's lakes all over the place, depends which one you're after." They ended up being nice and were curious and excited about the PCT, so I felt a little bad for being a smart ass, but at the same time, knowing where you are and how far it is to your destination is the sort of thing people out here should be able to figure out fairly well on their own.

Banner and 1,000 Island Lake.

All the while I was watching the sky. Big cumulus clouds had begun peaking over the tops of Mts. Ritter, Banner, and Lyell as early as 11 this morning, and I was concerned that my timing was going to be just right to hit Donahue Pass just in time for the lightning and rain. It was dark and ominous to the south and north, but right over Donahue the clouds were dispersing for some unknown atmospheric reason, and there was a nice gap of blue sky. About a mile and a half before the pass I left the last trees and the go/no go point. The closest cloud over the pass was in a period of shrinkage, so I decided to go for it. 

Columbine.

The climb was gradual and easy and I was to the pass within 40 minutes. No lightning yet. I hung out there for a couple minutes, enjoying he view and taking a group photo for some other people, then headed down he other side looking down toward the classic mountain scene of the Lyell Fork of the Tuolumne River lazily winding its way along the floor of Lyell Canyon. Looking back over my shoulder a half mile down, I could see the gap in the clouds over the pass had closed, and a short while later drops were falling. Si fe there was no big rush to get down to Tuolumne Meadows, I was planning to wait out the afternoon rain under some trees today, rather than walk through it and get good and wet like I did yesterday (don't want too much Washington practice). But I was still above what I'll call the functional tree line, and none of the scraggly single Lodgepoles nearby offered much shelter. So I quickly put my pack cover on (righter this time) and headed downhill as quickly as my knees would allow. For a time the rain backed off and I thought I'd go ahead and get down to the floor of Lyell Canyon, but then it started up again with renewed intention and I pitched my tarp in the first spot I found and dove in. 

Dark weather looking southeast from Donahue.

I had made it to within about 10 miles of Tuolumne, which sounded like a good amount of hiking for tomorrow, so just decided to stay here even after the rain quit. I finished my day's ration of snacks and Animal Farm, then crawled out to have dinner and watch the subtle sunset among the clearing clouds.

Don't know what this is; it's a dominant ground cover in the alpine areas.

I made a few changes to my gear and clothing in Mammoth, and so far have been happy with them: I switched to the regular size Sawyer filter (thanks Libby for bringing me this!), which is much faster than the mini; I sent my long sleeve wool sleeping shirt home with Libby and replaced it with a short sleeve and light hooded long sleeve wool tops- so far I'm really liking the added versatility of this combo, and not really noticing the extra 7-8 ounces; finally I've added some Injinji toe socks and a pair of Ice Breaker "all sport" socks to replace the thin pair of Darn Tough socks I've put holes in (Pretty Darn Tough??)-time will tell on how long these socks last, but so far they're comfortable enough.

Birds:

Brown Creeper 

Western Wood-pewee 

American Robin 

Oregon Junco 

Fox Sparrow 

Green-tailed Towhee 

Olive-sided Flycatcher 

Song Sparrow 

White-crowned Sparrow 

Wilson's Warbler 

Warbling Vireo 

Hairy Woodpecker 

Stellar's Jay 

Golden-crowned Kinglet 

Mountain Chickadee 

Clark's Nutcracker 

Sooty Grouse 

Pine Siskin

Cassin's Finch 

Yellow-rumped Warbler 

Brewer's Sparrow 

Rock Wren 

Red-breasted Nuthatch 

Gray-crowned Rosy-finch 

Hermit Thrush 

June 29. Day 59.

Mammoth Lakes back to Red's Meadow, then to about mile 912.

Miles hiked: ~2 round trip to see Rainbow Falls, then 5-ish on Devil's Postpile NM trails and PCT.

We packed up our soggy little camp and Libby drove me to The Village, the sort of swanky part of Mammoth where one of the gondolas heads up the mountain. Of course the goodbye was bittersweet. It was such a nice visit, but over so quickly and leaving me feeling all lonely and homesick and doubtful of why I'm doing this all over again. I sort of moped around until finding a Starbucks, then sat outside for another half hour waiting for it to open. I was still a few days behind on journaling, and due to a miscommunication my bug shelter didn't come up with Libby. So my plan was to drink a bunch of coffee and catch up on writing and kill a bit of time so Libby could get home a rush mail the bug shelter to Tuolumne, which is only another 35 miles up the trail. I pretty much succeeded in all those things, and also phoned my parents.

By the time that was all done it was darn near lunch time, so I got a bagel sandwich with a fried egg, avo, cheese and bacon, then caught the free shuttle bus up to the Adventure Center, another gondola take off point, this one right at the base of the ski hill, and which this time of year is crawling with mountain bikers. There I remembered I needed to order new shoes to be sent to Echo Pass, so killed another 30 minutes and half my phone battery getting that done then caught the bus back down to Red's Meadow.

At Red's I talked to Libby and learned that she couldn't next-day deliver the bug net from Bolinas, so that gave me  2 half days and a full day to get to Tuolumne in stead of one and a half. So since I could take things a bit more casually I decided to have an ice cream sandwich and a Gatorade then a beer (why not?) and started working on a light copy of Orwell's Animal Farm (actually haven't read it yet). About the time all that was taken care of the nice sunny afternoon had turned dark, and thunder and a few raindrops began as I packed up to go. I figured I'd head out anyway, despite the weather; I've got the skills and the gear to deal with rain (better than mosquitoes), and it would be more good practice for what might be headed my way farther north. 

I backtracked back south to go to Rainbow Falls to try and see the swifts that nest behind the falls common and going. But by the time I got there it was raining pretty good and the lightning was getting within a mile or two and the falls overlook was sort of out in the old. With just a few isolated trees so I didn't stick around log and didn't see any swifts.

Turning back north, I wandered along the empty wet trails of Devil's Postpile National Monument, enjoying having the ace seemingly to myself. I stood atop the classic hexagonal basaltic columns, their glacial polish shining even more from the rain, then stood below and wondered again, like I do every time I'm here or see a photo, about that section where the columns bend and merge together.

Postpiles in the rain.

The rain was pretty much done by the time I was done checking out the Postpiles, so I hiked on looking up at mist hanging along forested hillsides and dodging drips from nearby trees. Just north of the NM the JMT and PCT split, the former climbing up along a series of lakes along the western side of the valley, and the later following along the San Joaquin a few more miles to Agnew Meadows before climbing up the eastern side of the valley. The two rejoin about 10 miles past Devil's Postpile at the head of the valley. I'd heard the bugs all the JMT were pretty bad, so I decided to take the slightly drier PCT even though there might be fewer camping options within the distance I wanted to go.

Tiger lily(?)

With the rain done the birds started up all their noises again: Hammond's Flycatcher, Oregon Junco, Western Wood-pewee. The forest dripped, creeks cascaded down from unknown heights somewhere up in he must to meet the river, flowers glowed clean under fresh droplets.

I set up camp a bit before 7, so much earlier than theist week and a half, and learned that my pack cover had let in a fair bit of water, with my down jacket and sleeping bag apparently soaking much of it up. Neither we too wet, but it tested my previously high regard for pack covers. Could have been user error; good Washington practice, at any rate. A robin sang slowly ad dusk matured, and the tumble of the nearby river nearly drowned out a distant Hermit Thrush.

Birds:

Hammond's Flycatcher 

American Robin 

Western Wood-pewee 

Oregon Junco 

Brown Creeper