A crew of us from Yosemite went down to King's Canyon NP for their trail's end party. There were kegs of beer, a bar called the "Juan Muir Cantina," a barbecue'd pig, swimming holes, a crosscut saw competition, and mule rides.
The first of many pit-stops on the way to King's: Merced River swimming hole.
Liz jumping
Malcolm and Rachel
Hole In The Wall, King's Canyon NP
Muir Rock on the King's River
Rachel backflipping
Boxcar, Jeff, Owen, Malcolm, Rachel, and Joe
Tatum and I went on an adventure in the high-country in early October. We were on the hunt for golden trout.
This pass was really easy. We didn't know there was another one--Koip Peak Pass--that climbs 1,500 feet over about a mile ahead of us...
We got caught in a snow storm at the top of the pass. We barreled down the backside of the mountain--shortcutting all switchbacks--to the Alger Lakes basin where we quickly set up camp under some whitebark pines. The snow was coming down pretty good, and the wind was blowing about 50 MPH. We were so whooped from the hike, we both napped for a couple hours.
When we awoke, it was a little after 4PM, but looked like night because the sky was blacked out by dark storm clouds. With all the wood on the ground covered in snow, we made a big pile of firewood by snapping dead branches off the nearby pines. Tatum squirted some lighter fluid on the wood, and I was able to light the fire by turning my camp stove into a flamethrower.
The wind continued to blow all night, but even the massive gusts couldn't put out our fire. We finished off our beers, drank plenty of whiskey, and stayed warm while the temperature dropped into the teens.
This is what the basin looked like in the morning. It may look peaceful, but the wind continued gusting all day--making it impossible to cast. So no golden trout, or any trout for that matter, were caught. We're going back for redemption in the summer.
And now I wish I was in Austin
At the chilly parlor bar
Drinkin' mad dog margaritas
And not carin' where you are
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