** June 26, 2008 - Exhausting hike out from Bearpaw Meadows, bad smoke from forest fires, farewell to friends

Next morning we hiked out, and, in Diana’s words “it was brutal” - usually the hike out apparently seems easier and takes a little less time than the hike in, but not so this time.  

The trek out

More beautiful wildflowers to encourage our trek; however, we were clearly exhausted and stopped to rest much more often than we did coming in. 

Brodiaea Elegant

Twining Brodiaea

Hillside of little pink gilia

Fivespot

In addition to the expected pain in the legs, I had pain in my chest as well (out of shape thing that I am).  There was clearly a bad forest fire somewhere “down there” which made breathing difficult, but turned the sky a faded and cloudy pink.  

Smoky views heading down

In places, the trail was falling away (which I did not recall on the trip up).  

Trail falling away

Trail falling away

At one point we had to clamber up a hillside to enable the weekly mule packtrain by.  It occurred to both of us that on another trip up to Bearpaw, we could book a spot on the mules so we would not have to huff and grumpus our way up on foot.

Pack train

It took us 9 hours to get out, though. (Diana with a recurring knee problem and me with a strained hip and chest pain.)  

We drove back to Cedar Grove to pick up Peter who had had a wonderfully quiet vacation by the rippling river reading - pondering to his heart’s content.  Gorgeous King’s Canyon held the beautiful fading light we’d been walking through all day and we pulled up to the lodge about 7 PM.  

We drove back to Grant Grove, seeing the smoldering remains of a brilliant red sunset (made all the more reddish orange by the forest fires which were ravaging the mountains nearby).  The steak dinner was large and very, very good - welcome as well, to the starving trekkers.   

As there was no room left in the hotel at Grant Grove, I rented a rather scary little cabin nearby.  It was very chilly, had no electricity, sounded like there were “critters” in the corners and smelled of mold.  An unfortunate end to an otherwise beautiful holiday in the High Sierra.