July 26th dawned cold, and clear as only mountain skies can be. The slopes around Lake O'Hara were tinted blue -- from the shadows, not the cold.
In the lodge first breakfast had been laid out. This included juice, muffins, fruit, yogurt, hot oatmeal, and Joan's favorite-in-the-whole-world berry buffet.
During first breakfast the staff comes by your table and inquires about hot breakfast, which can be the special of the day, or eggs (any style), meat (bacon or sausage?), hash browns, and toast. At some point during breakfast you're asked what kind of sandwich you'd like for a trail lunch, if you're not lunching at the lodge. There are three choices: a vegetarian offering, a meat offering, and a classic Lake O'Hara peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich.
At the end of breakfast the buffet is cleared and sandwiches in tupperware are set out, along with muffins, cheeses, trail mix, carrots/peppers, lemonade, and the Best Cookies In The World. Three kinds. Rotating each day. Pack a lunch, and head for a morning of hiking!
Joan and I started out for the Wiwaxy Gap trail. The sun had risen over Lake O'Hara.
The hike to Wiwaxy Gap is something we tackle every year; in this 2011 blog post I discuss the route in some detail. This year, a distinguished promontory and photo-op is the only en-route image.
Depending on our conditioning, and time at altitude, it takes Joan and me about an hour and a half to reach the gap. Our pigs didn't even break a sweat.
There is a small knob to the north of the pass, in front of the Wiwaxy Peaks.
I took this panoramic image from the knob. I've admired this view several times, and never tire of it.
Using the full zoom of the camera I photographed Sleeping Poets Pool, on a ledge above the Yukness Ledge trail. We plan to visit it today.
Below, others have almost made it to the gap.
Then they reached it.
Joan and I continued on the Huber Ledges trail, towards Lake Oesa.
It's the sole route out of Wiwaxy Gap, except to go back the way you came, steeply downhill. Others followed us; in this picture the camera is looking back the way we've come.
Our next goal, Lake Oesa, is the large body of water at left.
The past two days of drizzle have left a fresh dusting of snow on the surrounding heights.
In this photo we've drawn close to, but are still above, Lake Oesa. The rocky "picnic ground" at the edge of the lake invites people to linger, to sun, and to lunch. Click on the image to enlarge, and you'll spot some.
From this point we also saw climbers making their way down from Abbot Hut, at Abbot Pass, 9600' altitude. To reach the hut requires genuine climbing skills and equipment, including helmets. Probably not for us! Here, on the way down, the climbers are past the scariest parts.
After enjoying our lunch -- including, as I said, The Best Cookies In The World -- at Lake Oesa we continued on the Yukness Ledges trail. A short distance before Yukness joins the East Opabin trail a scruffy track leads up to Sleeping Poets, our next goal. Here, we look back at Oesa.
Halfway along the Yukness Ledges our plans vanished. Just ahead of us, an older man missed his step and fell among some rocks. Joan and I reached him just before his grown son turned around and came back to join us. The older man was a physician, and decided, once back on his feet, that he was bruised but nothing was broken.
But he was shaken and unsteady on his feet. The father and son pair were moving very slowly. The son insisted that they would be OK, and the father insisted on continuing around the Yukness rather than returning by Oesa. Joan and I moved ahead, but only a short distance. And waited. At the pace the two were traveling, we were uncomfortable leaving them high on the ledge. A few other hikers came by, but had little to report.
When father and son came into view it didn't look good. Dad needed frequent breaks, and wasn't steady yet. Joan and I offered assistance again, and what we hashed out was this: Joan and I would go along the Yukness to where the son's wife and two daughters would be waiting for the pair, at East Opabin, and tell them what had happened. Then we would continue to the lodge and tell the staff what had happened -- but, grandfather repeated, do not summon a helicopter. No helicopters!
When we reached the rest of the family, Mom decided to walk back to join grandfather and husband, and the girls were to go back with us. Joan had slipped once during our dash across the ledges and her knee was twinging, so I conducted a forced march with the girls and let the staff at the lodge know what was up. I got a long, cold drink of lemonade and another to take back to Joan, who I met along the shores of Lake O'Hara.
Grandfather must have continued his recovery and returned more or less under his own power. There were no helicopters, and his son thanked us at dinner for our assistance. They were more than welcome to it; the very thought of someone being stranded on the cold alpine mountainside gave me the shivers. Sleeping Poets Pool? Next year.
Tonight was Saturday night. Showtime. Every Saturday night the staff puts on a show for the guests, never the same twice. It consists of a series of acts, some involving one person,
some a small group, such as this edition of Marmot Talk,
or a larger group, such as this fabulous rhythm band, joined by a great fiddler,
or the whole ensemble.
What a day it was!
Blooms were everywhere along the lakeshore.
The taller pine towards the right displayed scarlet/violet cones.
More blooms among the rocks, if you look.
The cascade of water headed towards O'Hara falls down a steep face, which we must climb.
The trail owes a debt of gratitude to Lawrence Grassi, who laid the trail and built steps where needed.
Looking back after some climbing. The pond is now well below us.
In the other direction, more steps to the top of the cascade.
On past Lake Victoria and a few more staircases lay Lake Oesa. Yes, spring hadn't fully arrived here.
Joan and I found a congenial, sun-drenched rock and ate our lunches, admiring the view. Then we wandered over to the western side, where the trail towards Mount Yukness, an alpine route, dropped down from the lake.
Heading back as we came, I took a photo down to Lake Victoria, the final lakelet as hikers approach Oesa.
Joan and I continued our descent, and lower down a hermit thrush boldly sang. When I took out my camera it stared at me before flying off.
We approached the level of Lake O'Hara and I snapped this view of the Seven Veils waterfall(s).
Joan and I decided, on reaching the lake, to continue in a clockwise direction and thus circumambulate it. Along our way a rock supported a mini-garden: hiking in the mountains includes observing the small as well as the large.
We reached our cabin. The first order of business was to install our travel companions, the pigs Pudgy and Floppy Harry, in the window so they could check out the view and all the hikers passing by.
It was a smooth and uplifting re-entry to Lake O'Hara after three years away, even if we hadn't seen any pikas or marmots yet. We had five more days to explore this mountain retreat, blessed with no internet or cellphone service to interrupt us.
