Friday, August 27, 2004
Cupcake Unwimps and Feels Joy
08/27/04
I'm thrilled to be here. I'm on a mountainside above the lake at the center of the Cirque of the Towers (WY19) sleeping out beneath the stars. I'm not far below the elevation of Jackass Pass. The moon shadow of the peak to my southeast is crisp on the mountains to the north. The rest of the Cirque of the Towers is lit with the sharpness of a near full moon.
This tight little place, only a few miles across, makes Yosemite Valley look vast. Here the geologic wonders are packed right next to each other. The struggle between granite and glacier was fierce in this immediate area, and the remaining granite has the dramatic scars to prove it. Those scars are spikes, spires, and, well, towers of rock that held their own against what must have been a giant glacier or two. It looks as if one glacier headed east, unable to break the Cirque of the Towers, and another headed south, creating Lonesome Lake and the valley that includes Big Sandy Lake. Pingora is a cylinder-topped rock buttress that stands out from the wall of the cirque. From my vantage point, it looks part of the wall, but I've seen photos that display its fortitude and unusual appearance.
So, how did I get here? When last our hero reported, he was passing on the Cirque of the Towers out of a variety of concerns. Apple Pie and Spur were talking about hiking up to Jackass Pass, the pass at the south end of the C of T, as a packless day (1/2 day, really) hike on their way out of Big Sandy. I immediately saw the brilliance of this plan, and expanded on it. They should be camped at Big Sandy Lake tonight. I left Big Sandy Lodge earlier than they did, had dinner at the Big Sandy Lake, then made the climb up to Jackass Pass, then over into full view of the cirque.
But our hero had concerns about gear too. What about that wet sleeping bag?
I spent most of my waking hours at Big Sandy Lodge trying to get my sleeping bag dry, finally ending up in the lodge itself in front of their excellent fireplace. I nursed my bag back to fluffy warmth by hand separating the clumps of wet down, then pulling the drying clumps across the bag to give them a chance to get really dry. I did a good job. Its damn cold up here and only my fingers, which are out of the bag typing, are cold.
What the hell are you doing sleeping out? Hasn't the weather been awful?
Well, yes it has been. I even got a tiny bit of that bouncing snow during dinner. But right now the sky is clear and all is well. I'm not stupid though. My tarp's set up very near by, so if the weather becomes inclement, I can duck inside. Plus I have my bivy for extra warmth.
Damn my fingers are cold.
I'm warming up to Spur and Apple Pie a bit. I'm afraid I posted a harsh journal entry, but that's how it goes. Hiking together is hard. I'm here to tell the truth, and be honest with my feelings while being as respectful as I can. I don't know how good a job I've done, but I'm not perfect. Besides, getting pissed off at their reaction to my response to Apple Pie illness and subsequent slow down has let the three of us know that it works best for me to hike at my own pace, and for them not to feel like they have to catch up all the time. I don't feel encumbered, and they don't feel behind. Comparing notes, we were rarely camped more than a few hours apart each night.
So catching up in town seems to be a good plan. Splitting hotel rooms certainly has financial advantages that I can't ignore. That's all I can tell you tonight because my fingers are too cold.
I'm so happy to be on this hike right now. Nights like this are one of the reasons I hike. I'm looking forward to morning.
