July 7th Below Rock Pass to Harts Pass

I had a good, long night's sleep and woke a few minutes before 7 feeling refreshed. The sun just coming over the crest turned a camp in shadow into one that can warm your bones. At about 9 I was finished with breakfast and my gear was ready to go, but John was still sleeping the sleep of the dead. I woke him up and told him I was going to set the route up to Rock Pass. It took a full 40 minutes to climb up and reach the trail again. Somewhat even ground to walk on never felt so good. It didn't last though. I spent the next hour with ice axe in hand kicking or stomping steps into the already softening snow. I tried to follow the faint traces left by others and they didn't lead me astray. Up and over Rock Pass and the trail is found. Yipee! While waiting for John to catch up, I stripped off my clothes and had a snow bath. Frigid, but overall it did a pretty good job of at least making me feel clean. We spent the remainder of the day hiking the high slopes of the Cascades a few thousand feet above the valley floors below. Some slopes are green with alpine gardens stretching from top to bottom with all kinds of small flowers, mostly white and yellow, a little orange, some lavender, purple and blue and just a hint of red and pink in contrast to the verdant green of the alpine grasses. Other slopes are a mass of boulder fields the size of small cars with a few scraggly trees clinging to life while a few scree slopes are nothing but broken and weathered pieces of shale most no bigger than your thumbnail. As we were approaching Harts Pass, we saw a pickup truck that had slid off the corner and down a twenty foot embankment of a hairpin turn leading down from Slate Mountain Observation Tower. That must have been a heartstopper for the driver! See, sometimes it's better to walk. The stars came out on a clear but chilly night highlighting the snow-capped peaks while the dark tops of the evergreens remained in silhouette. Still, so still. Absolute silence. As I stood outside my tent gazing at the heavens I felt what an insignificant part I was in the grand scheme of things, but a part nonetheless. Sometimes emotions play a strange role on the trail. That night in my tent I wept for the sheer beauty of it all.

Camp below Rock Pass

Traversing a Snow Slope

19 Miles