Up Under Heavy Heat and Down Through Vicious Storm: A Surprizing Backpacking Trip to Berryessa Snow Mountain Wilderness

 

 

Date: June 11, 2022 

Place: Snow Mountain Wilderness, Stonyford, California

Coordinates: 39.333484, -122.710860

Length: 6.5 miles one way (+ 1.7 miles unplanned extra), a total of 14.7 miles in two days.

Level: strenuous + bonus challenges

It occurred to me a couple of months ago that this summer I probably won't be able to go on a long backpacking trip like I did every summer since 2015. A combination of other travels and a long family visit didn't leave much time for that kind of trip. Still, I wanted to go. I needed to go to the wilderness, even if only for a short time. Poring at the calendar revealed a tiny hole of 3 days in my early summer schedule and I decided that I should go on a three-nighter backpacking trip. Somewhere close, a loop trail that can be completed in three days. It didn't take me long to decide on Snow Mountain Wilderness - the destination that my family was supposed to go on a field trip to with the friends that we backpacked with in Henry Coe State Park in May of 2019. We planned to go to Snow Mountain in May of 2020 but the pandemic screwed up that plan along with many others. And so I was, in the end of spring, 2022, planning a solo backpacking trip to Snow Mountain. 

A couple of weeks before the planned trip we visited family friends. They are the same friends whom with I went backpacking with my chikas for the first times: with the elder chika to Point Reyes National Seashore when she was 7 years old, and two years later with the younger chika to Caribou Wilderness, when she was 7 years old. Although we didn't get to backpack together since, it was these two trips that got me back into backpacking, and that dispelled all my fears and concerns about backpacking with children as well with my whole family. They were my mentors into this form of recreation that has completely won me over. 

To keep matters short, I invited my friend to join me on this trip and she accepted. But her time bracket was even shorter than mine, so we decided on a two-nighter and a shorter loop: to go up the mountain on Saturday, do the summit and the round summit loop on Sunday, and come down early on Monday. 

Since I already planned to be there on Friday, I took the time to check into the Mendocino National Forest field office to get information and to acquire a map. I spent Friday night in a small campground near the trailhead, and since there was no cellular reception there I drove in the morning out to Stonyford to receive a word from my friend of her arrival time.

 

Our hike up Snow Mountain as captured by my GPS.

It was noon time when my friend arrived at the trailhead, and the temperature was 90 and soaring. After a quick lunch and a final arranging of the backpacks we got going. The first part of the trail was an old loggers path that went westward in the forest above Stony Creek. For the most part it was easy walking.

Almost immediately I stopped in my tracks. There were raspberries by the trail side, and they were ripe. The berries in the photo are red because I ate the black ones before thinking of taking the photo. Besides, red photographs better. 

White-bark Raspberry, Rubus leucodermis

The first part of the trail is mostly level, or a mild downhill. It is also mostly shaded, what made it easier to bear the heat. It didn't take long before my friend stopped and let me pass her because I was going slowly and she didn't want to wait for me every few steps, At this part of the trail my slowness was all due to the richness of wildflowers display alongside the trail.

Cardinal Catchfly, Silene laciniata

Promptly we saw our first lizard of many we would see that day on the hike. It looked like it lost a bit of its tail and then regrew it, in lizard fashion. 

It didn't take long for my next excitement - I recognized an orchid blooming near the trail. In a very dry area, nonetheless. Later I found out that this one was indeed something to shout about. It was not listed for Colusa County yet (but was listed for the neighboring Lake County). 

Mountain Piperia, Piperia transversa

One of the questions I asked at the forest's field office was how impacted the area was by the recent wildfires. The answer was, a lot. At the beginning of our trail there were plenty of evidence for fast going, low intensity fires. As we moved more into the trail and up the mountain, these marks of fires became much more prevalent. 

Another question I had for the ranger on duty was about the prevalence of poison oak. The answer to that was none at all. That the mountain was too high for poison oak. The ranger failed to mention that the trail's beginning isn't very high though. There was a lot of poison oak growing near the trail right up to the creek's crossing. It was hard to walk the narrow parts of the trail without brushing against these plants. Whenever I wanted to pick a berry or otherwise get close to a wildflower, I had to mind the poison oak.

Fernald's Iris. Iris fernaldii

Less than half a mile into this hike I already knew this was going to be a botanical delight. There were wildflowers everywhere and I was pausing every few steps or so.

Tongue Clarkia, Clarkia rhomboidea

Perhaps the most important question I had for the National Forest ranger was about the presence of surface water. Had there been none, we wouldn't have hiked that trail. I was assured that besides Stony Creek there would be other places where we could get water. Even before reaching Stony Creek I saw that this was true. There were a few muddy spots along the trail. The vegetation was much thicker in these places and also the plant species were the water-loving kind.

Monkeyflower. Erythranthe sp.

I figured that the richness of flora in this beginning part of the trail was alone a good enough reason to hike there. It's been a while since I've seen this kind of diversity over such a short trail distance. 

American Vetch, Vicia americana

As if I could get even more excited, I spotted a mariposa lily by the trail side. One that I've only seen a couple of times before on trails around the Shasta Lake and the Trinity Alps. What a treat! 

Hairy Star Tulip, Calochortus tolmiei

There was a lot of raspberry growing along the trail but relatively little thimbleberry. The thimbleberry we saw were all in bloom, none fruiting yet. 

Thimbleberry, Rubus parviflorus

Will all the big and colorful flowers around, I almost missed the small and shy little prince of the forest.  This one I have to re-identify each time anew because somehow I can never remember having seen it. 

Little Prince's Pine, Chimaphila menziesii

Despite the wildflower richness we were making good time on this mildly descending trail. Soon we could hear the creek below us and even catch glimpses of the water between the trees. 

Stony Creek

The final descent to the creek was much steeper now. A description of the trail which my friend had downloaded from AllTrails described this part as potentially slippery, but we didn't encounter any particular problems with it. 

Wood Rose, Rosa gymnocarpa

My friend got ahead of me on the descent, Suddenly she started exclaiming and pointing at something near the trail. I came over and saw a beautiful red canyon larkspur in full bloom. The larkspur wasn't what my friend was all excited about though. What she exclaimed about was an unbelievable aggregation of ladybugs on rocks and vegetation along the trail. 

Canyon Larkspur, Delphinium nudicaule

I've seen ladybug aggregations in places in the Bay Area but I've never seen so many of them as in that place by the Stony Creek. They were literally everywhere! The most impressive aggregates where right by the creek, as we saw as soon as we got down to the water.

Fritillaria fruit with ladybugs

Stony Creek was running too high for to cross by stone hopping so we both switched to sandals and waded across.

Stony Creek

I made my way to the nearest convenient rock to sit on and switch back to my hiking boots when it struck me - the rock I was about to sit on was crawling with ladybugs. So were all the rocks nearby. When I got up after changing my shoes there were ladybugs all over my jeans and my backpack. 

I took many photos of these ladybug aggregates but none of them could really capture the numbers of these critters. They were literally everywhere, of different dot numbers and species, all alive and crawling on one another.

There were other things to see at that creek crossing too, wildlowers for one. I had to wade in the creek again to get close enough to this columbine (and to the ladybug aggregates near it).

Crimson Columbine, Aquilegia formosa 

After changing back to hiking shoes and filling up ur water bottles we started up the trail on the north side of the creek. The ranger at the field office had warned me to expect fallen logson the trail, and we had to cross the first one on the initial ascent from the creek. We had to bypass many, many such trail blockades alomg the way. Some we could go over, fewer we coul slide under, but most of the times we had to get around the entire fallen tree and then reconnect with the trail again.

Deafy Glade Trail

Fallen logs were only one of several trail difficulties we run into on this hike. In parts, the trail was completely overgrown and difficult to follow. Some of the overgrowth was thorny and abrasive and I was glad I wore my long pants for this hike. At least on this day though, the plants were dry.

In truth, the hardest thing on that hike was the heat. We were climbing a steep uphill trail in the 90's. I was recovering from an injury so I expected to be slow, but the heat really affected me to the point of having to stop a lot more frequently than I expected. At least there were plenty of other excuses for my stops - there was alot to see on that trail.

Lizard

We were ascending the south-facing slope, which meant drier and more exposed. While there were many shaded areas still (thankfully), there were also long trail stretches completely out in the open. It was nice to see than much of the vegetation wasn't bone dry yet, and that there were plenty of wildflowers blooming still, and not necessarily only geophytes. 

Large-flowered Collomia, Collomia grandiflora

Not surprising, many of the wildflowers blooming in the open, sunny areas were familiar to me from East Bay hills. We weren't very high yet so the altitude was similar.  

Purple Clarkia, Clarkia purpurea

Not even half a mile up the trail I was already soaked in sweat. I ket hydrating often and was amazed at my friend's endurance - she was perky and energetic all the time. 

Smooth Mule-ears, Wyethia glabra

One of the things my friend brought with her was a trail description of one of the previous hikers who posted it on AllTrails. She had it printed out and when we paused she read it aloud, informing us what we need to look out for and what we should expect. The description placed Deafy Glade - a nice open meadow - about a mile and a half into the trail. Sure enough, after an infinite length of trail which was about half a mile from the creek crossing we reached the glade. 

Deafy Glade

The open grassland had its own beauties blooming. We stood there for a few moments enjoying the view while I gathered myself again for the rest of the hike. Only half a mile uphill and I was already having breakdown thoughts! I haven't had that feeling in a long, long while. 

Wild Hyacinth, Triteleia hyacinthina

It was as pretty as the AllTrails' person described it. Green still, and big. Near the trail below the trees bordering the glade were a couple of unoccupied camp sites. We could here the water running in the creek below but from where we were it seemed like to much of a hassle to get down to the water. I bit higher up the trail however, there was s trail split that I might have not noticed if it wasn't marked by a sign. The little trail splitting off to the right was leading down to the creek. I wondered if we should go down and refill our water again but my friend said she had enough and I believed I had enough still to take me all the way up to our planned camping spot, where we expected to have water access. 

The next part of the hike was the longest and hardest. It involved a few steep inclines segments without switchbacks to ease the incline, only partially shaded, in intense heat. We took it slowly. More like, I took it slowly and my friend was matching her pace to mine.

Harvest Brodiaea, Brodiaea elegans  

Once again we were walking in area that had gone through wildfires. The fire here had happened a few years ago and partial regeneration of the vegetation was already taking place. Many of the fallen logs we had to bypass were the charred remains of wildfire victims.

The fire scars were a sad sight but the regeneration was nice to see. In wetter years it might have been quicker.

Bush Morning Glory, Calystegia occidentalis

A quick motion caught my eye. It was a lizard on the ground, scurrying away before us. Suddenly the lizard jumped to a fallen branch above the ground, about 5-6 times its length. It was the first time I ever saw a lizard jumping and I exclaimed with surprise. My friend who came from behind me and didn't see the lizard jump was skeptical. She too has never before seen lizards jump. Then just before her eyes the lizard jumped again to a different branch, then skedaddled away. The natural world never ceases to surprise me.

The Jumping lizard

I was beginning to see plants that I recognized from my Sierra Nevada trips. We must have been at a high enough altitude now. That's one thing that can be said about a steep trail with little or no switchbacks - one does gain altitude quickly.

Broad-leaf Lotus, Hosackia crassifolia

Like Mount Diablo, Snow Mountain is kind of an 'island in the sky' meaning the deep canyons that separate it from the other range's peaks render it a stand alone ecosystem with its own unique plant communities and wildlife. Snow Mountain is almost twice as high than Mount Diablo, but it's also closer to its range's neighbors. It was interesting to see the flora display change as we got higher up the slope.

peregrine Thistle, Cirsium cymosum

Every hike has its fair share of DYC flowers. DYC is a jargon acronym for Damn Yellow Composite, referring to the difficulty of lay botanists in identifying plants of the aster family. Thankfully, this one wasn't very hard to identify. There weren't too many silvery-stemmed yellow asters on the mountain to choose from.

Common Woolly Sunflower, Eriophyllum lanatum

The trail curved about and we found ourselves at the top of Deafy Glade. I was disheartened. It felt as if we walked a lot and should have gotten further. But then again, the glade was really long and we were walking really slow.

This by the way, was the only place on this hike where I noticed the California poppy bloom. In a way I was surprised to see them there, as I was already in an alpine mode.

California Poppy, Eschscholzia californica

Finally leaving the glade behind, we were entering the forest again. walking underneath a much welcomed shade. Evidence of fire were everywhere, but mostly as char at the base of still living trees. We didn't see many completely burned trees on that part of the trail. This one however, stood as a sentinel by our path, reminded me of the crazy night from Monti Python's The Holly Grail.

The shade was welcomed but delving into the forest also meant that the light breeze that helped relieve the heat was also gone. Soon enough I had no breath to spare for talk and we both grew silent as we climbed slowly higher in the stifling heat.

My friend was behind me still, matching her pace to my slow crawl. While previously I paused only briefly for a quick sip, on this part of the hike I had to stop more frequently and for longer time, just to catch my breath and to calm my racing pulse. I felt bad for my friend whom I was clearly slowing down on this hike. 

Horse Mint, Agastache urticifolia

Whenever I had enough air to speak I would point out the wildflowers around us. Some of these flowers were definitely species that I have never seen before, like the Greene's Collinsia.

Greene's Collinsia, Collinsia greenei

Even very familiar flowers like the Ithuriel's spear, seem so much prettier having worked hard to get to their location.

Ithuriel's Spear, Triteleia laxa

It was hard work going up the mountain in the intense heat, and for a good part of the hike I felt that I was forcing myself to push forwward. And then we were out of the forest again and the view east opened up. and suddenly all that hard work was completely worth it. Far down across the Central Valley I saw the toothy peaks of the Sutter Buttes. The photo belowwas taken with my strongest zoom , the buttes were so far and so tiny compared with the mountain we were ascending and not even at the top yet.

The sutter Buttes

I pointed the buttes to my friend and told her about the guided hike that I went on with my family there in BC (before covid) time. My friend in turn, told me that we're facing another long stretch of a steep uphill trail that the person who wrote the trail's description had labled, "The Morale Buster".

Silver Bush Lupine, Lupinus albifrons

I snapped a few more shots of the eastern horizon and turned back to the trail to toil up slope some more.

View east

The heat was intense but a light mountain breeze made it more manageable. Besides, the views all around were simply gorgeous. For the first time on this hike I felt I was hiking on a mountain.

View south

I found "The Morale Buster" much less of a problem than the previous part of the trail. Perhaps it was because it was already getting less hot. The first part of that slope was in a thick forest and nicely shaded. We also stopped for the first and only long munch break near one of the fallen logs on the way. When we emerged again from the forest the temperature was clearly lower. It was still hot, but already dropping. And the breeze was nice.

My friend was getting worried about our slow pace. I couldn't help feeling bad at my slowness. I was returning to activity after an injury that rendered me inactive for a few months and I was not yet back in shape. I couldn't help thinking back to a year ago, when I was in top shape and hiked up Mount Shasta, more than twice the altitude and considerably steeper than the hike I was doing today. I didn't say much about it other than I was hopeful we'll be there before nightfall.

My friend read from the trail's description that we were facing now a switchback section that would be exposed and is labeled 'hot but don't give up' on her map printout. I gathered myself and we moved on.

Purple Milkweed, Asclepias cordifolia

Some of the botanical rewards of that day revealed themselves after I was back home and able to identify what I had photographed on the hike. This penstemon in the photo below is a species endemic to that 'island in the sky' that Snow Mountain is. I didn't relalise at the time that I was seeing something speciel and didn't try too hard to take enough photos of the plant. Now I have another reason to return to this trail an a different spring.

Snow Mountain Penstemon, Penstemon purpusii

The switchback section was considerably easier than the ascent preceding it, even easier than the 'morale buster' slope. I didn't need and breath-catching pauses but I also didn't walk any faster though. I was already worned out by the intense heat, I was also starting to have pain in my feet. Not blisters, just direct pressure pain from my soles. It sucked, especially since we had about a mile and a half more ahead of us, all uphill still.

    

 We reached the trail junction with the trail that goes down to the Summit Springs trailhead. We could hear OHVs buzzing in the background - there's a big OHV park near the wilderness and I was told by the ranger that it would be a busy weekend for them. It was a bit jarring to hear he engine sounds so close to where we were though.       

View southeast

We took another break at that trail junction. Noit long enough to sit and eat but enough to drink and catch our breaths. My friend shared that she was anxious to get early enough to our planned cap location because she was hungry and wanted dinner sooner rather than later. With these words she did pull a snack from her pack and consumed it before we moved on.

View south

I took more photos of the very distant Sutter Buttes from that spot. The air was very murky and at home I tried clearing the image, filtering away the haze. The colors look a but outlandish here, but the details are clearer.

The Sutter Buttes

The edge of the day's heat was blunted. It was easier to walk, to breathe. I breathed in the mountain air and breathed out my pain, moving forward step by step. Still in the lead, I got to see the small wildlife before the run or flew away.

Butterfly

Once again we were in a different zone of the mountain - higher, and more exposed. It was definitely a different flora zone as well. I saw a species of collinsia that was completely new to me. It was different enough from all the other collinsia species that I've seen before that I knew right away that I was seeing something special.

Greene's Collinsia, Collinsia greenei

I saw a small bunch of prickly poppies blooming some distance off trail. I found it surprising because I know this wildflower from the desert areas, yet here it was.

Prickly Poppy, Argemone munita

There were scars of rock slides here and there and the trail became a bit more sketchy crossing the slide scree areas. Still wary about my recovering foot I took it slowly and carefully to cross the difficult patches.

Despite my weariness I was still very much alert and very excited to see so much bloom all around me. I kept pointing them out to my friend without being asked to do so. I don't think she was annoyed by it. Occasionally she would even take some pictures of her own of the flowers.

Rock Phacelia, Phacelia egena

The map I was carrying of Snow Mountain Wilderness had some information about the place's natural history, including a blurb about its geology. I don't know much geology but my understanding was that most of the mountain is of sedimentary and partially metamorphic rock. Whichever this is, it is beautiful.

Rock

What was growing below and between the pretty rocks was no less beautiful. I was stunned at the brightness of the paintbrush that bloomed along this trail section. With the afternoon sun directly on it, the paintbrush looked like little red clouds on the ground, standing out beautifully against any backdrop.

Wavy-leaf Paintbrush, Castilleja applegatei

The lizards were out still, and I got to say hi to yet another one. It was nice that they didn't really regard us much and didn't run away.

Lizard

Turning around the mountain curve we now had a view to the west. It was getting late in the afternoon so looking directly west wasn't very plesant but the view of the mountain slope below us wqas great.

View southwest

The trail turned north and we started going up switchbacks once more. Everywhere around us were signs of an old fire. It also looked like the vegetation was renewing itself vigorously. I hoped that the drought won't slow down the regeneration process too much.

Western Waterleaf, Hydrophyllum occidentale

My friend was getting a but antsy and at some point when I stooped over a plant she passed me and took the lead. I tried keeping up but soon had to slow down again. I figuerd she'd wait for me where it mattered.

Chaenactis, Chaenactis douglasii

My friend's trail description had it that after the big hot ascend there will be the relief of a deep, shaded forest. I take it that the description was written before the Mendocino Complex Fire that decimated so muych of the area's forests, and burned also what must have been a really pretty grove. The grove of still standing birnt trees was a sad and eerie sight.

But even with this recent birn, forest floor flora was already regenerating. Exposed to the sudden light, there was much happy greenery below the charred, dead logs.

Pacific Bleeding Hearts, Dicentra formosa

All the way from a little below the last trail junction I was seeing large numbers of the sickle-leaf onion. Most of them were past the prime of their bloom though. Here at the higher region the onions were still at their peak bloom, vibrant and lovely.

Sickle-leaf Onion, Allium falcifolium

We crossed a small trickle of water. For a moment I thought to stop and fill up my bottle but we were getting close to our destination now and I had enough water to get there. Besides, my friend wanted to press on.

She had mentioned the possibility of stopping before the place we originally planned to stop at. Here there was water, that could be a place to stop. There was no place to piutch a tent though. Perhaps behind that cruve ahead? The idea exchenge didn't last long. We dropped it quickly and continued on to our planned destination.

Now I was seriousl;y lagging behind my friend. Every step was painful and I was nearing exhaustion. I kept my focus on the lovely wildflowers and pushed away my pains, pushing on forward.

Spreading Larkspur, Delphinium patens

A wide, open mountain ledge suggested itself as a campsite. My friend was ready to camp there. She said she didn't mind to go all the way to the trickle we passed a bit earlier to fill up on water. I didn't like how the ledge was so exposed though. The view was stunning, but the wind was already getting stronger, and with the forecast for the morrow, that wouldn't be very sheltered location. In short, this udea was dropped too and we went on, plunging forward, gathering the sweet smell of the blooming ceanothus with each breath.

Mountain Whitethorn, Ceanothus cordulatus

My friend disappeared behind a trail curve ahead. As much as I wanted, I couldn't go any faster, so I resigned to my slow pace and I made the most of it in terms of looking at the pretty sights along the way.

Pussypaws, Calyptridium umbellatum

The sky was mostly clear with only a hint of clouds. The forecast for the morrow gave about 15% chance of rain. I admit I didn't take it too seriously. I didn't bring any serious rain gear with me, trusting my fleece top to be enough. That did turn out to be a mistake.

My friend waited for me around the next curve. She pointed out a far away lake to me. I wondered if that lake was still within the Snow Mountain Wilderness area, and wether it was accessible to hikers. This however, was not the time to find out.

Forest Lake

On and on we went. According to the map we were very close, yet the trail seemed to go on forever. My friend keot darting forward and then waiting for me to drag myself to her place, which I did as fast as I could.

I hardly stopped to take photos anymore, but would shoot my camera while walking. I guess I no longer stressed much about the quality of the images I was getting. We didn't have a view of the peak itself from where we were but two cute little domes that were off to the side seemed to mark a high point on the hike. The trail didn't go there however, but veered off to the west again. 

Mountain bumps

It was definitely less hot now, and the breeze intensified. The swelter of the day was turning into a really nice evening. I trudged along as fast as I could, breathing through the pain in my feet. I had some worries about my ability to do the summit loop tomorrow, but I pushed them out of my mind. A good night's rest is what I needed and I'd be fine tomorrow.

Wall Flower, Erysimum capitatum

I was also not worried anymore that we'd be too late to our camping site. Yes, we were behind schedule, but there was still plenty of daylight left. On the other hand, although my stomach wasn't bugging me at all I understood my friend's urgency to get there and make proper dinner rather than continue on light snacks.

Pursh's Sheeppod, Astragalus purshii

Near the top we saw the marks of the most recent fire with the least regeneration going on. Perhaps this was the scar of the Mendocino Complex Fire. Perhaps being at a higher altitude with more snow coverage during winter that slowed down regeneration. Either way, the recovering flora consisted mainly of the bottom plant pussypaws.

Carpets and carpets of pussypaws! My friend waited for me in the middle of a wide field of these lovely pink bottom flowers to make sure I wouldn't miss the sight. I don't think it was possible to miss it - the ground between the dead trees was completely covered with these flowers. My photos really don't do justice to the actual beauty of it.

Pussypaws

I was also glad to see the germination of conifers. Green sprouts of pine and fir dotted the burnt forest floor, a hope of forest recovery in the future.

The last bit of trail was level and the prospect of getting rest fueled me into a somewhat faster pace. When we finally reached the Cedar Camp area we both had big smiles. But the day's work wasn't over yet. My friend's map had the little pond marked but the official topo map I got at the rangers' office didn't. The pond's water looked murky and the access to the water was really muddy. My friend's printout had 'good water' labeled a bit off to the side with a dotted trail leading to it.

The prime camp site in the area was occupied by a sole guy and his dog. We chatted with him a bit, asking about the water, He didn't explore the area and pointed us to a location about a mile or so up the trail. We said that we preferred looking for the 'good water' source that was marked on the printout. Somehow though, we got mixed up and ended up marching up the trail that he had pointed us to. And so, what was supposed to be an extension of no more than maybe a quarter of a mile we ended up walking nearly a mile on, uphill yet, before we realized we were on the wrong path and turned around, thus adding unnecessary 1.7 miles to our day's hike.

California Butterweed, Senecio aronicoides

Well, I did get to see a few things that I didn't see up until then, like a Manzanita bush in bloom. But I didn't take many photos anymore. I was pushing on by sheer will now, the pain in my feet burning up through my legs and spine, and frying my brain. My friend made it back to the pond much faster and by the time I got there she had already found the real access to the 'good water' location, which turned out to be simply the spillway of the pond. She had begun to take the tent out of the pack, and after some debate on where to pitch it (we didn't want it too close to the other guy who didn't seem all to pleased to have neighbors with him in the wilderness, and we also didn't wanted it near any dead tree for fear it might collapse on us at night. By the time the tent was up and we begun cooking the sun was already down. We finished eating and cleaned up after nightfall, and went into the tent. We talked a little, discussing our plans for tomorrow, which were to leave the tent and heavy stuff where we were and hiking the summit loop light, then lowering our camp some, perhaps even down to the Deafy Glade campsite. We knew there might be rain and we thought we'd just wait it out id needed. I didn't talk about my pains, I hoped the pain would go away by morning. We were both worn out and soon I drifted to sleep.

Manzanita, Arctostaphylos sp.

My friend took a bit longer to fall asleep and was tossing and turning some. I woke up as some point and realized that the wind, which had intensified greatly last evening was now in gale proportions. Moreover, it was already raining. Not a heavy rain, but the wind brought the droplets down at incredible speed, pelting our tent like  little hailstones. Maybe there even was some hail, I don't know. 

In the morning the storm was on still. Found what little shelter we could near a fallen log and had breakfast. Then we sneaked right back into the tent to wait out the storm as we planned the night before. There wasn't much point in going to the summit under these conditions - there was nothing to see around but thick clouds and fog. We also took inventory of what dry clothes we had. My friend was in better shape because she had packed her rain jacket. I had only my fleece jacket, which is water resistant to a point but not waterproof. My bottoms were in a worse condition because I had only one pair of long pants which were light and a pair of base layers underneath, and the time I spent outside for breakfast had got them wet. Wetness alone was not to bad but the ferocious wind caused a serious chill to the risk of hypothermia. I couldn't believe that only yesterday I was nearly defeated by the intense heat hiking up here. We decided to wait until noon.

By noon the storm still had no end in sight. The wind was still at about 20 knots and the rain was still pelting us. We gave up on the summit loop. We had a quick, cold lunch, then packed ourselves as quickly as we could and started down the mountain. To protect my camera I placed it inside my backpack and although the sights in the storm were incredibly beautiful, I have no documentation from our descent at all, nit until we stopped for the first rest break, somewhat above Deafy Glade. I do remember the pass through the overgrown parts of the trail where my pants got soaked from wet plants we had to push through, then the water wicking down my socks, filling my shoes. As a result, the bottom third of the hike I walked with water-filled shoes.

As I had hoped, my feet were okay in the morning and didn't give me any trouble. My friend however, started having knee issues and was hurting. When we reached Deafy Glade it was high time for a good long break. The rain also had stopped, but the clouds were thick still. We discussed the possibility of staying the night at the campsite there, leaving tomorrow when we had originally planned. We went back and forth with this but as the clouds gathered up again and the rain resumed, we decided to continue all the way out. If the weather meant we'd have to hide in the tent all evening, then we'd miss out on the outdoors experience.

But the rain ceased altogether by the time we reached Stony Creek. We decided to stay there for another long break and cook our dinner there before crossing the creek and finishing the hike. The multitudes of ladybugs were all still there, crawling on everything, on us too. We had a nice, cooked dinner, chatted a lot, and eventually crossed the creek, what gave me a chance to change my socks on the other side to the one dry pair I had left.

Stony Creek

I had my camera out for the rest of the hike but I didn't take many photos. What I did do was to snack on the many raspberries that seemed to have ripened overnight.

Back at the trailhead we rearranged our stuff, bade our goodbyes, and promising each other to do this again when we could. My friend departed first while I took a few more minutes gathering myself together. I looked up at the Snow Mountain, now under bright blue sky, illuminated by the beautiful evening sun. Like the Fellowship of the Ring at Caradhras, we were defeated by a very localized and intense storm and had to turn around without fulfilling our plans. The next time I'll go up there, I will be better prepared, that's for sure.

There is a Yiddish folk saying that goes like, "Man plans and God laughs". Or in short, our trip didn't happen exactly they way we planned it. Still, it was a good hike in a very beautiful place, and it certainly was an excellent learning experience. All and all, I did get what I needed most from this trip - the time off, the wilderness immersion, and a good time with a friend whom I haven't seen in a long while. As a bonus - I got an amazing botanical experience, and a resolution to go up there again as soon as opportunity presents itself.

One last note: my backpacking blogposts tent to be very long and heavy with photos. That is mainly because on these trips I am outdoors from down to dusk, experiencing and seeing things all day long. This trip we started already afternoon, and for most of the return part I had my camera tucked away to protect it from the rain. Still this is one of my heaviest posts ever, and that's after a much painful selection of photos. I wish I could include them all. Anyway, this is only an indication of the richness and diversity of plant life on this mountain. It really is a national treasure that needs to be preserved for generations to come. Any botanically inclined person who is fit enough should make this place a pilgrimage site. I know I would.