Outside San Diego

I awoke as the filtered light of the morning began to glow through the orange fabric of my bivy.   As I snuggled a little deeper in the warm cocoon of my sleeping bag, I realized it was not the morning light that awoke me, but the rhythmic patter of falling snow tapping near my head.  Awaking a little more, I began to make out the light pressure of snow covering my bivy.  I was now ready to get out and enjoy the day.  I gathered my gear from around me, and kicked off the snow from around my feet. As I unzipped the cover, the magnificence of the day hit me.  Snow was falling gently but relentlessly, and the accumulation from the night had erased all traces of existence from my sight.  I was in the center of an untouched landscape dominated by huge pine whose branches were hanging low from the snow.

This was the morning of day two of snow camp.  Snow camp is the cumulating event of the Wilderness Basics course that has been such a big part of my life for the last few months, and we could not have planned a more fitting final trip for the 100+ students who made the long bus journey to Mammoth Lakes to experience backpacking in the snow, and were scattered through area on 8 different trips.  The trip I was acting as an assistant leader, arrived at the trailhead, strapped on our packs and snowshoes and began our hike up a wide trail to our intended campsite.  We traveled slowly through the sunny morning as we all had full packs, and none of us had fully acclimatized to the 8500 ft elevation that we found ourselves in.

After a little scouting, and some map orientation, we found a protected ridge that was a perfect place to make camp.  The group then separated for a bit as we went about the business of setting up tents, unstuffing sleeping bags, and the chores that are so important to making a comfortable camp.  We gathered together a short while later to eat lunch and to construct a snow kitchen to provide shelter for our evening meal.

When our camp chores were complete, I eagerly put together a light daypack in preparation for a hike up to Inyo-Craters. All this time, the sunny skies were reluctantly yielding to the clouds that were blowing over Mammoth Mountain, and dropping the temperature.  We hiked up to Inyo-Craters, enjoying the thick stand of lodge pole and Jeffery pines piercing the thick snow and soaring towards the heavens.  You could smell the vanilla scent of the Jeffery Pines as you walked through the dense stands.  The clouds were thick, and the wind was picking up as we reached the craters, but the cold and the wind became secondary to the view of the craters and the icy blue lakes at their base.

The trip back to camp was somewhat quicker than the trip up, and as we arrived back to camp, everyone was ready to change into dry warm clothes, and sit down to hot beverages and some dinner.  We gathered together lit the buddy burners and began to melt snow in preparation for dinner.  The mood was light and the conversation lively through dinner, and into the evening.  We enjoyed each other’s company as one by one my fellow campers drifted off to bed.  The last of us secured the snow kitchen, and wandered off to bed, enjoying the brief break in the clouds to admire the stars of the dark night.

As you read earlier, I woke to snow in the morning, and was out of bed and starting breakfast before the others were awake.  I fired up a stove, and busied myself taking pictures of snow-covered tents.  My hour alone in the falling snow was one of the most serene moments I have ad in some time.  There is something about the isolating quality of a gentle snowfall in the outdoors that clears the mind, and calms one’s soul.  Despite the serenity, I was glad to see my camp-mates stirring a short while later as I was eager to share this amazing morning.  We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, and began the process of breaking camp, and loading packs for the snowshoe trip back to the trailhead.

The trip back to the trailhead to meet the bus was uneventful, but nice.  It stopped snowing a short while after we left our camp,  and the sun broke through,  warming us as we trekked toward home.