Walking Trip In The High Sierra
June 25, 1966-July 10, 1966

Up late (7:00, kids later). Ate and were off. All day's travel was over talus or snow. That damned gorge seemed finally to have given up presenting new varieties of dirty tricks. In spite of tiredness (elev. 9,700' at the start of the day, 11,000' at the end) we were able to appreciate the scenery (stupendous) during our rest every 10 min.

But the last blow had yet to fall. The exit from the gorge to Chasm Lake is over snow banks, which shook all of us. One snow field after the other. Sheer, icy. R & M each panicked once. The lake itself is a beautiful deep blue lozenge set in the bottom of a perpendicular sided rook purse. With snow on our side, grassy and rocky across the lake. When we first saw the little lake it was 3:00. It was 4:00 before we'd gotten around the shore to find a place to camp. and in the process M lost footing on an icy spot, then R and I - all slid down the slope holding hands and scraping-heels until we fetched up on a lucky rock at the lake brink.

Made camp on a pretty grassy spot in the curve of an icy stream among huge, pure white, granite blocks. Wood being almost nonexistent, we have scrounged twigs and bits of brush enough to cook supper, and perhaps breakfast.

While we were sitting around cooking supper in our long johns (pants wet from our slide) we saw our first people since Simpson Meadow. A fellow came scrabbling over the rocks above us dressed in knickers, argyles, etc, adorned with rope, ice axe, and cap feather). three others joined him. We passed the time of day. They asked how the passage around the lake was,, having heard that it was difficult. I told them that it should be no problem. (Obviously, I lied.)

Writing in my sleeping bag. Now nearly dark. Would get up and get candle but its too cold. And haven't the wood for a warming fire.