Pushing Limits In The Approach To 70, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:00am

I just returned from camping, with my sister, for three nights in the High Sierra. We are both in our later 60s.

It was just car camping, tents, cooking over a fire, a little propane stove, and so on. No real backpacking. But the High Sierra is high; at 7500 feet oxygen is a tiniest bit harder to come by, the sun, intense. Never mind the possibility of bears. Gotta put all the food and any scented toiletries in the special bear locker any time you leave the campsite or go to sleep. That’s a lot of carrying bins from here to there.

The High Sierra is also extraordinarily, or maybe ordinarily if we weren’t so civilized, beautiful. And thus, inspiring? Is that the right word?

Specifics include silver tip firs, fallen and standing, wildflowers, granite, and clear, clear water.

There are teeny white and pink flowers hidden in this greenery, and often small orange butterflies flit about. I think Western Meadow Fritillaries but they rarely stayed still enough to identify.

We thought better of hiking to the very top of Inspiration Point. I was testing my limits, and the risks of over-extending here seemed high.

Lake Alpine, in the Stanislaus National Forest. We swam directly from the granite. Pretty (read: wildly) awesome.

Don’t forget your chairs. To rest, to gaze out across trees and mountains, and talk about how this time we are going to remember to buy a tablecloth that isn’t too small for the park picnic tables.

The trip was hard work. And also fantastic. It’s good to bump up against your limits, and then maybe find a way to push them just a little further out. Have a wonderful weekend everyone.