08-22-2022, 04:15 PM
Then there was Thursday. This was the day that gave me the most trepidation. It was our second to last day out, and our longest and highest. The mission - a 10+ mile hike over Donahue Pass, the ridge that guards the border to Yosemite. It's 11K+ feet above sea level, adjacent to Yosemite's highest mountain, Donahue Peak. It was a climb of over 2K feet in altitude within about 3-4 miles, then a sharp descent down the other side, returning to a more reasonable altitude of just under 9K.
If I was going to fail, this would be the day.
But I felt good. My spinal pain had subsided significantly, perhaps overwhelmed by the massive endorphin dose, or maybe it was the qigong on the pristine mountaintops and the pure mountain lakes. I had been worrying about this day since I saw Stacy's trip plan. The fear, the pain, the endurance, all at the end when I was most spent.
The rains let up and the panoramic vistas were simply gorgeous. It was sunny, with occassional cloud cover, and cool fresh mountain breezes. Stacy took off early. I wasn't far behind. The 20s lagged later. The trail was my favorite sort of path - not too steep, skipping back and forth over a winding creek, light tree cover giving way to golden meadows, simply inspiring from every angle. Such views, like no where else on earth. This is what I came for. This nature. This God's country. California uber alles.
The 20s caught up to me eventually, and I regretted not doing my bear growl when Alex came around a rock where I was sitting because my greeting had him nearly jump out of his skin. We continued on to meet up with Stacy who had taken out all her gear, spread it out upon the sun-drenched granite, and dried most everything. The 20s pressed onward and upward. Stacy was ahead of me but everyone was more or less in sight because we crossed the treeline again. We had crossed other ridges previously that cleared the treeline, including that slag field just prior to the thunderstorm but this was the longest and highest.
I'm guessing it was around 10.5 K when the oxygen was too scarce for me to take a breath. I was sucking wind so bad that my lips, mouth, and throat were chappend and raw. I could only take about a half dozen steps before I had to rest again. Then the dizziness set in. It was only my drunken kung fu skills that kept me from faceplanting on the roughly hewn granite slab steps.
But I made it obviously. And it was glorious.
If I was going to fail, this would be the day.
But I felt good. My spinal pain had subsided significantly, perhaps overwhelmed by the massive endorphin dose, or maybe it was the qigong on the pristine mountaintops and the pure mountain lakes. I had been worrying about this day since I saw Stacy's trip plan. The fear, the pain, the endurance, all at the end when I was most spent.
The rains let up and the panoramic vistas were simply gorgeous. It was sunny, with occassional cloud cover, and cool fresh mountain breezes. Stacy took off early. I wasn't far behind. The 20s lagged later. The trail was my favorite sort of path - not too steep, skipping back and forth over a winding creek, light tree cover giving way to golden meadows, simply inspiring from every angle. Such views, like no where else on earth. This is what I came for. This nature. This God's country. California uber alles.
The 20s caught up to me eventually, and I regretted not doing my bear growl when Alex came around a rock where I was sitting because my greeting had him nearly jump out of his skin. We continued on to meet up with Stacy who had taken out all her gear, spread it out upon the sun-drenched granite, and dried most everything. The 20s pressed onward and upward. Stacy was ahead of me but everyone was more or less in sight because we crossed the treeline again. We had crossed other ridges previously that cleared the treeline, including that slag field just prior to the thunderstorm but this was the longest and highest.
I'm guessing it was around 10.5 K when the oxygen was too scarce for me to take a breath. I was sucking wind so bad that my lips, mouth, and throat were chappend and raw. I could only take about a half dozen steps before I had to rest again. Then the dizziness set in. It was only my drunken kung fu skills that kept me from faceplanting on the roughly hewn granite slab steps.
But I made it obviously. And it was glorious.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse