Lassen Peak (Lassen Volcanic National Park, California)

Even with my disappointing attempt to reach the summit of Mt. Whitney last weekend, it's time to get back in the saddle and bag another peak. Lassen Peak is the tallest point in Lassen Volcanic National Park. Though it only rises to 10,457ft, it can be seen from very long distances due to it's prominence. Many pictures I have from the top of other nearby mountains have Lassen Peak in the background. The mountain is the southernmost active volcano in the Cascade range (which includes Mt. Shasta, Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens) and can clearly be seen from the top of Mt. Rose and from just about anywhere within it's namesake park.

For the last couple of years, I have been wanting to hike up to the summit, but the park service has been restoring and improving the trail. Going all the way to the summit has only been possible on a few pre-designated weekends each year, but luckily, this year's labor day weekend is one of those. 

Getting a mid-morning start, I made the two and a half hour drive from Reno to the park, confirming on my way in that the full trail was open. I always love driving through this national park, as there are wonders right alongside the road. The Sulfur Works is a favorite of first timers, as it may be their first exposure to the boiling sulfur-rich mud pools that fill this park. Beyond, the road passes right by Lake Helen, which has to be one of the most gorgeous alpine lakes anywhere in the world. 

Arriving at the trail head, I switch socks and shoes, toss on my small day-pack and begin making my way up the volcanic cone that is Lassen Peak. Surprisingly, there aren't as many people here as I had expected. With the limited windows of opportunity, I fully expected to be parked out on the side of the road and shoulder to shoulder with hikers going up the trail. This isn't to say that there isn't a good crowd, as there is, but just not as many as I thought there would be. 

The trail immediately starts gaining elevation from parking lot, which sits at about 8k, and doesn't stop until the top. There is very little vegetation on this slopes, as it is still comprised of the loose gravel that remained after the powerful eruptions of 1914-1917. I guess there aren't many plants that can take root in this loose landscape, not to mention the wind and cold. All of this makes for a pretty barren trail, but it still holds great beauty. 

Entirely comprised of a series of large switchbacks, the trail makes it's way up the mountain. The recent improvements are evident about half-way up, as newly carved steps and retaining walls finish out the path. I do wish though that they would go for less steps. My knees do much better without them.

All in all, it's a fairly easy 5+ mile hike. Once I reach the summit, I'm greeted by a number of fellow-hikers at an area that has been fashioned as the end point. However, to the northwest, across a small cooled lava field, there is a point that many other hikers are heading for, as it is obviously a bit higher than where we now stand. I can't come this far and not reach the very pinnacle, and so I make my way over there. It's fairly dangerous as the 'trail' climbs steeply up large and loose obsidian boulders. At this point, it really is more rock scrambling than hiking, but eventually, I reach the true summit and take a few pictures, including a shot of Brokeoff Mountain (the remains of the ancient Mt. Tehama), which I hiked up last year, as well as a shot of Prospect Peak and Cinder Cone off in the distance, also past destinations.

On my way down, I find that my footing is even less sure than it was on the way up. I'm lucky enough to have a large rock slide onto my foot as I navigate a path through the rubble. No damage, but ouch! Continuing down, I sort of jog, as the trail is fairly steep and my momentum just wants to carry me. Reaching the jeep, I get comfortable and head for home.

Mt. Whitney (Inyo County, California)

14,505 feet above sea level, highest point in the contiguous United States, "up there" . . . by whatever name one chooses to refer Mt. Whitney, some sort of superlative is in order. For a couple of years now, I have been hoping to conquer this mighty mountain on the eastern edge of California. Entering the lottery in the early sprint, I was lucky enough to secure three passes for late August. And now with the fateful date upon us, it is time for the test.

A couple of friends that had originally planned on joining me were unable to, but after asking around among other friends and co-workers I found two brave souls to accompany me. Bill, who recently backpacked through the Ruby Mountains with me, and his long-time friend, Van.

Heading down Friday morning, we stopped for a great lunch at the Whoa Nellie Deli outside of Lee Vining, which is one of my favorite stops. What other gas station servers lobster taquitos and bison meat loaf? Continuing on to the Ranger Station just outside of Death Valley, we picked up our passes and Bill rented a bear canister. Knowing the forest service requires these devices for food storage within the Whitney Zone, I had purchased one the week before.

Still having a fair amount of time before dark, we drove up through the Alabama Foothills at the base of Mt. Whitney, stumbling across a small natural bridge in the process - pretty cool. After a little exploration and rock scrambling in the desert, we headed on over to Whitney Portal and pitched our tents at the campground, grabbed some dinner at the burger joint at the trail head, and decided to call it a night.

Rising at 4:45, while it was still pitch black outside, we began to break camp and make our way back up the hill to the trail head. Amazingly, we still had to park my truck quite a ways down hill from the trail head, as most of the parking spots at the top were full. The trail head offers a scale for back packers to weigh in on. I was pretty happy to see my pack weigh in at only 35 pounds, including my water - not too bad.

We start up the trail, which immediately starts the long climb from 8,000 feet at the trail head all the way to 14,505 feet at the summit of Whitney. I know I have referred to some trails in the past as moving 'relentlessly' uphill, but I take it all back. This trial is truly relentless. We pass by small waterfalls and scramble across stepping stones to cross small creeks, all the while making our way up this fantastic white gorge with Whitney directly ahead of us most of the way. As the  sun rises, I capture a great shot of the monstrous mountain above us.

Continuing on, we come across Lone Pine Lake, which is spectacular to behold while looking east. We also find a bridge made of logs through a shallow marsh/run-off, which makes for a fun little diversion. 

Reaching Outpost Camp at about 4 miles in, we stop to fill our water supply and admire the small waterfall feeding the creek that runs right through the middle of this popular overnight spot. We continue on though.

Reaching about 11,500 feet, I begin to feel my head expanding and find it harder and harder to catch my breath. I'm a little concerned about these symptoms. Continuing on, I find it more and more difficult to keep my mind focused on any single thought for any amount of time. My companions, Bill and Van have continued on upon my urging.

As I stumble, much like a zombie, into Trail Camp, which sets in an granite gorge just below the 99 switchbacks leading to the crest, I find myself questioning my ability to continue on. We had always planned on camping here tonight, and so, once I find Bill and Van, we set up our tents and I tell them I need a bit to try and recover. We fix some lunch and I continue experiencing the onslaught of symptoms related to altitude sickness. Van agrees that these symptoms are indicative of the condition. 

After about an hour, we decide to try and push on. I'm not convinced that I can make it, but I'm damn sure going to try. Stripping down my backpack and switching over to a lightweight day pack that I had brought along, I start up the 99 switchbacks. My body just isn't acclimating to this altitude though, and after a few hundred hard-fought yards, I decide that being able to breathe is probably more important than reaching the top. I turn back towards camp, as my companions continue upwards. I spend the rest of my afternoon and evening in and out of sleep in my tent, while hoping my head doesn't explode. After about six hours, my companions return with tales of the grandeur of the summit and the struggle to reach it. Bill also started getting sick from the thin air, but not until he had almost reached the top. It was a huge disappointment, but again, my health had to come first.

Overnight temperatures at Trail Camp, sunk below freezing as we found ice on some of our gear when we awoke. Marmots and chipmunks run rampant through camp scrounging for food scraps. As I rise at dawn and climb the hill behind us, I spot what I believe to be a fox off in the distance. I think the overnight stay has helped my altitude sickness and has give my body enough time to at least begin to become accustomed to this thin air. I feel significantly better this morning, and my head feels almost normal sized once again.

As we only have a seven mile down hill hike separating us from the truck, we take our time breaking camp, but eventually hit the trail. It's always amazing to me how difficult downhill can be on a steep trail. It works completely different muscles and while downhill doesn't require the endurance of uphill, acting as shock-absorbers kills the knees. It's made worse by all of the granite steps that have been carved into the trail. I take my time, but finally reach the trail-head a few minutes behind my companions.

I hope someday to get another chance to hike up this mighty peak, but next time, I will most definitely give myself an extra day to acclimate better. I'm disappointed in myself, but I had a great time with some good people, and saw some amazing scenery over the 15 miles I was able to trek. It was still worth it, even though I didn't reach the peak.

Mt. Rose with Friends (Washoe County, Nevada)

Somewhat surprisingly, my legs and feet were ready for another hike just a few days after my Ruby Mountain Adventure. It was a good thing too. My friend Nate and I are participating in a fitness contest at work, in which we have to do various activities throughout the week for seven weeks. Hiking to the summit of Mt. Rose should knock out a couple of those. Joining us for the hike were Nate's friend Jen, her young son, Casen, and her friend Wendy.

Getting a 8:30ish start at the Mt. Rose trail head, we finished off some fantastic tri-tip breakfast burritos that Jen had made for the trip. Jen loaded her son into a well designed pack and we were off. The day had a lot of cloud cover, but I suspected that would be beneficial during the last half of the hike, which has no shade at all, and can get extremely hot during a sunny summer day.

We made pretty good time heading up the mountain. I admit, I was a little concerned with Jen carrying such a load, but she is an experienced backpacker and made an impressive showing all the way to the top. So much so, that many other hikers along the trail were commenting that if she could do it with a toddler on her back, then they themselves had no excuse for not making the summit.

Once we reached the summit, we stopped for some snacks and to rest. Nate made a fantastic fruit salad that he shared with everyone. We took a few pictures, and then Nate and I used his hiking poles to stage a 'light-saber' fight for one shot. As the contest is centered around the upcoming Star Wars movie, it seemed appropriate. In the distance, Nate asked what a tall peak to the northwest was, and I explained that it was Lassen Peak, which he, I and another friend are intending to hike up next weekend.

We packed our packs, cleaned our mess, and started the long trek back to the cars. Downhill on Mt. Rose is always so much easier, due to it's steady but gentle incline. Arriving back at the trail head, we said our good byes and went our separate ways. While we didn't set any speed records, it was a very enjoyable day hike with some good company.

Ruby Crest Trail (Elko County, Nevada)

One of my planned trips for this year, has been the Ruby Crest National Recreation Trail. I have heard from many friends and co-workers of the amazing terrain and endless beauty of the Ruby Mountains in Northeastern Nevada. Unfortunately, my normal hiking buddies could not do the trip this summer. As I got to know people and make friends at my new company, I got a couple of co-workers interested and eventually, they decided to join me for this backpacking adventure. 

We left Reno on Friday evening immediately after work. Rich (Inspector Gadget) and I in his vehicle, while Bill (Diesel), Bill's daughter Crista (Wild Flower), and her best friend Veronica (Red Feather) drove out in Crista's SUV. The drive to Elko takes about four hours, and even though we left a few minutes after four, we didn't arrive at our campsite in Lamoille Canyon at the north end of the Rubies until nearly dark. We pitched our tents and got a good nights sleep, but not before a few well-spent minutes gazing up at the magnificent starry sky above. As we were in a pretty remote area, the sky was alive with stars and the Milky Way was clearly visible.

Rising early, we broke camp and decided to leave Crista's vehicle at the northern trail head, which was just a couple of miles away from our camp. We then packed all five of us and our packs into Rich's car and drove an hour or so to Harrison Pass and the southern trail head. While the little Rav4 gave it a might try, it just couldn't make it all the way up the Forest Service Road, and so we had to hike a couple of extra miles to the actual trail head from where we had to leave the our ride.

This part of the trail was fairly uneventful, but very hot, as we didn't get started until a little after nine. The trail did offer some great views though of the range, including Green Mountain, so named because of the lush grasses covering it. Reaching the trail head sign, we officially started our trip, and were soon greeted by a couple of gigantic Mormon crickets along the trail. 

Through this part of the trail, the water sources were common as small streams dribbled over the path fairly frequently, though this would not be the case in the later parts of the trip. As we saw a couple of different signs indicating side trails, it became a joke to comment about finally reaching the trail head as we pointed to each of these signs in the distance. Crista especially appreciated the humor in this.

The southern end of Ruby Crest Trail is defined by wide green valleys, which of course we had to climb up one and descend into the next one. All through this section of trail, sheep herders (mostly Basque and Peruvians in the 1970's and 80's) had carved their initials and names on the small white aspen trees that are prevalent here. Over time, the trees have attempted to heal their scars, turning the site into a very rustic and ancient looking graffiti haven. 

Eventually reaching the valley of the south fork of Smith Creek, we decided to make camp. Our mileage, including the extra two, was right around 10.5 for the day. Not a bad first day, after getting a late start. Having contacted the Forest Service and obtaining a fire permit prior to the trip, I knew we were okay building a fire here along the creek. While I dug out a fire pit and placed some small stones around it to enclose, Rich gathered some firewood. Meanwhile, the girls cleaned up at the creek, which we had excellent access to just a few yards away. We cooked some dinner, mostly dehydrated meals, took a couple of swigs of scotch and/or bourbon, and called it a night.

I slept reasonably well, but woke every time I needed to roll over. While my sleeping pad and bag are pretty high quality, it's still not as comfortable as my bed at home. I couldn't help, but think of my wife at home alone. I am so lucky to have partner that allows me to go on great adventures like this.

After rising the next morning, Bill told me the tale of his early morning encounter with a large buck, who he discovered while doing his daily morning bathroom duties in the nearby treeline. We prepared some breakfast and started to break camp. We were on the trail again by 7:30, which isn't great, but isn't terrible either. 

We had originally intended the second day of the trek to be our longest one for pure mileage. The guide we were using (from an internet blog like this one) suggested doing the trip in four days instead of our three, and also recommended campsites. Night one, those early backpackers camped right where we did, but they had suggested the shores of the high alpine Overland Lake as the site for the second night's camp. Unfortunately, our timetable needed to be compressed into three days due to my limited vacation time. Our plan was to reach the lake by lunchtime, eat a hearty meal, refill our water supply, and then push on the next 10-12 miles necessary to reach the next water source.

As we started along our planned route, we discovered that it was much more difficult terrain than we had originally thought. The uphills were killer and there were so many of them. The views were tremendous, but we had to work for them. Eventually, we reached the crest overlooking Overland Lake. Bill anxious to drop a fishing line into the famed fishing hole, shouted and sprinted down several switchbacks, while the rest of his laughed and carefully made our way down. The fame of the fishing here was well deserved. I believe he caught 6 trout in 7 or 8 casts, but none were big enough to fillet into a nice meal. As the rest of us finally reached a nice boulder-laden area with good water access, we decided to take an extended break for lunch. After the tremendous effort necessary to get here, I think we all just took twenty or so minutes to relax in the shade.

After we caught our breath, we prepared some lunch and discussed our plans for the remainder of the day. We knew that this could potentially be our last available water for 10-12 miles and so that played into our decision. As the clock turned to 4 PM, we finally pushed on, thinking we would reach the next water shortly before dark.

This next middle section of the Ruby Crest Trail skirts a couple of magnificent peaks and crosses a few small creeks, one of which has a beautiful black slate waterfall just over the trail. We took advantage of this and re-capped our water bottles and bladders. After a number of switchbacks, the weather turned against us and it started to drizzle, slowing our progress even more. Though we were without any water source, we decided to camp on a small saddle near King's Peak. We had been conserving water and believed we could make it to water early the next morning. Total mileage for the day was approximately 10.5 miles.

We set up our tents and began bedding down for the night, after a quick meal. I got unlucky and chose a spot for my tent with a number of prickly plans underneath and so had to do some weed-whacking before going to sleep. As these mild storms rolled in, we were greeted by a beautiful rainbow in the distance to the east. What a sight to see!!!

Awake at about 5:15 in the morning, we were greeted by the echoing chatter of coyotes in the valley to the west. It really was an amazing way to wake up. We quickly broke camp and started our way up to what I had, at the time, believed to be Wine's Peak, the tallest peak on the trail itself, but upon our return, I discovered my mistake. Still, we took a few moments to relish our victory for having made it this far. The peak offered amazing views to the southeast and north east.

Had my map-reading been correct, we should have only had another 3 or 4 miles to water, but little did we know at the time that I was mistaken about Wine's Peak. As we followed the sweeping saddle between this unknown peak and the next, we were in awe of Long Valley, directly to our west. More to the point though, our water was starting to run low. We climbed peak after peak, traversed saddle after saddle, and eventually ran into some of the first people we had seen on the trail. 

As we looked in awe at Ruby Dome and the other 11k+ peaks in the distance, a nice couple pointed out North Furlong Creek in the distance. They explained that they were day-hiking from the lake supplied by this creek. Anxious to scout it out, I told the rest of my party that I was going to increase my pace a bit and find our water source. 

The trail dipped down into a lush little forest through a series of switchbacks. Though, as I crossed dry creek-bed after dry creek-bed, I began to get a little concerned that our water source may have dried up in this terrible drought. I eventually reached the intersection of the North Furlong Lake Trail and our Ruby Crest Trail. At this point, I decided to wait for my team in order to decide what to do next. After some discussion, we decided to push on to the next lake on the map, but the same couple we had seen early suddenly showed up and pointed us to a section of the creek that had running water. Apparently, the creek flows under ground for quite a ways until reaching that point. It became quite the joke, of which I was the butt, when the couple agreed to yell at us when they reached water along the North Furlong Trail. We had expected it to be a few minutes before we heard them, but it was actually less than one. Everyone looked at me and gave me a a well-deserved laugh.

Bill, Crista, Veronica, and I filled our water supply, while we let an exhausted Rich relax a bit. That's not to say that we were all tired, but Rich seemed a little worse off than the rest of us. After eating some jerky, nuts, and other assorted snack foods for lunch at this stop, we decided to push on. As this was our last day on the trail, we still had many miles to go.

In addition to helping us find water, the couple had told us that we only had two more rises to get over in order to get back to Lamoille Canyon. The first proved to be fairly easy and dropped us out into a large beautifully green and lush meadow. As we passed through this area though, the lightest of drizzles started again. It took us some time to clear this area and make to the next and probably largest lake directly on the trail, Favre Lake. 

Here we encountered a few campers who told us we simply had to make it over the next rise and it was all downhill from there. What they didn't tell us was how difficult that rise would be. It took us a long while to reach Liberty Lake and beyond, which finally lead to the pass overlooking the our destination, the northern trail head. 

By this time, the drizzle had picked up and we put our rain gear on. We had originally thought this last bit to be only a mile or two, but as we made our way down switchback after switchback we eventually reached another sign indicating that it was two miles more to the parking lot. Wow! What a disappointment that was. We were all aching and in pain, and by this point simply wanted to finish strong. That must have been the absolute longest two miles ever as we passed over we rock, walked across several fashioned bridges, and finally, finally, finally reached Crista's truck. We all gave a barbaric yawp in recognition of our long journey and our victory over these pristine mountains.

In total, we traversed 36 miles of backpacking heaven from the morning of July 26th through the early evening of July 28th. We were exhausted, we were sore, we were hungry, but we had just accomplished something that none of us would ever forget! Way to go team!!!

Oh, and by the way . . . they gave me the trail name 'Trail Boss'.

Spooner Lake to North Canyon (Douglas County, Nevada)

My intention for the day was to hike from Spooner Lake to Marlette Lake via the Flume Trail, but it didn't work out exactly as planned. Starting about 9 AM, I headed down through Carson City and then up highway 50 towards Tahoe. Parking at the Tahoe Rim Trail head near Spooner Lake, I started getting my bearings to figure out how to get to the Flume Trail from here. As it turns out, the Forest Service is now charging $1 to access Spooner Lake. Not having the correct change on me, I opted for a different trail.

I started heading north on the TRT (Tahoe Rim Trail) and hiked through some of the more heavily forested areas on the eastern side of Lake Tahoe. The trail had a fair incline, but I made my way at a pretty steady pace as the trail bobbed and weaved through the trees and boulders. A couple of areas along the way had signs indicating vistas of the surrounding area, but all but one of these had its views blocked by the forest. That didn't stop me from scrambling up the granite boulders at each though to get to the very top and see if the view was worth it.

Continuing on, I began wondering where the switchback I had seen on the map was. I expected to see it at about the 2.5 mile mark, but I didn't come across it until I had hiked almost 4 miles. Taking the series of switchbacks down the mountainside and headed towards the North Canyon Campground, I found this trail and overall view much nicer than the what I had seen along the TRT getting to this point. It's difficult to describe the difference, but this area just seemed a little more 'lived in', where as the TRT was very dry and barren.

Finally reaching the campground at the bottom of the mountain, I looked around a little bit, but I was the only one there. A side trail lead out to North Canyon Road, which is not so much a road as a wider trail often used by mountain-bikers on their way to Marlette Lake. I decided to head back to the trail head, but to take this path instead of the way I had come. This being a Saturday in the middle of summer, I was joined by numerous mountain bikers and the occasional hiker along the way. All were friendly.

Just as I made a sharp right turn, I saw the cutest darn thing. A little marmot had apparently chewed trough the stalk of one of his favorite local veggies and was dragging it across the trail. When he saw me, he finished dragging it to the side and then ran for cover. 

Returning to Spooner Lake, I didn't see any signage indicating the $1 fee coming from this side and so, I decided I had a good story to use if I were to get stopped. I made my way around the small lake. Along the way, I noticed a sign indicating that swimming in the lake was not recommended as the lake water was home to leeches. Wow, first time I have ever seen that type of signage, but I'm thankful for the warning.

Returning to the jeep, I logged just shy of 11 miles today. Not an fantastically scenic hike, but not bad overall. Next time, I come up this way though, I will ensure I have a buck in my pocket.

Castle Peak (Nevada County, California)

More peaks! Driving Interstate 80 near Truckee, CA, it's difficult to miss the interesting Castle Peak, which sits just a couple of miles north of the highway. As you can see from the pictures, the top of the mountain looks very much like a series of castle ramparts atop the ridge - quite striking!

I have done a few hikes in this area that passed by this landmark mountain, including Paradise Lake and Warren Lake, but today I decided to actually hike to the top of Castle Peak. As we have plans this evening with friends, my time is limited and this out-and-back hike seemed about perfect for the time I had available.

Arriving at the parking lot just north of Boreal Ski Resort, I found dozens of cars parked all along both sides of the road, and while a rough dirt road lead further into the forest, I wanted the mileage. I found a tight little parking spot between some trees. Thankfully, my jeep is able to rock climb very easily and allow me to situation myself pretty well.

The first half of the hike follows the modest incline of the dirt road up the ridge. I pass a number of fellow hikers and I am passed by a number of mountain bikers. As I reach a clearing in the forest, the road ends and the trail begins . . . and the steepness begins. this is the large bend visible in the map and marks the point where the trail begins to get more difficult.

After passing the saddle of Castle Pass, where a couple of other trials split off, I continue curving around the ridge with a great view of my destination in front of me. From here on out though, footing the pretty unsure, as I scramble over rocks and slip on the gravel. The incline here has to be at least 45 degrees and makes for some slow going. I slip a couple of times, but manage to catch myself with no damage done.

The trail closer to the top also requires a bit of path-finding, as numerous secondary trails snake around the boulders and loose gravel on this stony western side of the mountain. Finally, I make it to the top and take a couple of minutes to admire the spectacular views available from up here. Thanks to the clear day, I can see probably 50-75 miles in all directions.

Making my way down this steep later half of the trail was pretty treacherous and required me to go quite a bit slower than I'm used to in order to ensure I didn't slip to my death. I eventually reach the trail head again and make for home. Nearly six miles to reach the highest point (9,109 feet) atop Castle Peak has made for a pretty strenuous, but rewarding hike.

Relay Peak (Washoe County, Nevada)

It's the Fourth of July and I thought a great way to start the day would be to do a 11-mile hike up to the top of the 10k Relay Peak overlooking Lake Tahoe. Getting a reasonably early start, I arrived at the Mt. Rose trail head at about 8:30 and started making my way to the Galena Creek Waterfall. This hike and it's alternate end point, the peak of Mt. Rose, to have some very nice scenery and provide a good workout, but the best thing about both of them is their proximity to Reno. It's easy to knock out 10 miles and be back around lunch.

At the falls, instead of taking the right turn toward Rose, I took, which follows the creek for a ways before eventually straying away from it on the ascent up Relay Peak. While it was pretty warm start, the wind and elevation quickly force me to put on a fleece, as I approach the communications tower on the peak just before Relay Peak.

This whole section is part of the Tahoe Rim Trail (TRT), which I hope to thru-hike later this year (if I can get all of the arrangements made). As I approach the top, I stop to chat with some members of the TRT who are out doing some trail maintenance. I have a healthy respect for what these individuals do and without them, the TRT would quickly fall into ruin. 

A short bit further and I arrive at the summit. The view from here is significantly better than that from Mt. Rose, which is 400 feet taller, but can mostly only boast of a view of the city of Reno below on its resume. From Relay Peak, Lake Tahoe to the south, Mt. Rose and Slide Mountain to the Northeast, and the distant Lassen Peak to the north all compete for the highlight.

After chatting with the folks on the trail, I decided to take an alternate path back to the trail head, which follows a Forestry Service road as it passes by the tiny, but appropriately named Frog Pond. Gazing into the water, I spot countless tad poles. I would guess this pond will just resonate with frog sound effects later in the year.

Eventually, I return to the trail head and make my way home. It was a great way to start the day though and I got a decent workout to boot.