Letters to a Friend 



northward and up Cottonwood Creek to Mt. 

 Whitney, then over to the Kern Canons again 

 and up to the new "highest" peak, which I did 

 not ascend, as there was no one to attend to my 

 horse. Thus you see I have rambled this high 

 est portion of the Sierra pretty thoroughly, 

 though hastily. I spent a night without fire 

 or food in a very icy wind-storm on one of the 

 spires of the new highest peak by some called 

 Fisherman's Peak. That I am already quite 

 recovered from the tremendous exposure proves 

 that I cannot be killed in any such manner. On 

 the day previous I climbed two mountains, mak 

 ing over 10,000 feet of altitude. 



I saw no mountains in all this grand region 

 that appeared at all inaccessible to a moun 

 taineer. Give me a summer and a bunch of 

 matches and a sack of meal, and I will climb 

 every mountain in the region. 



I have passed through the Lone Pine and noted 

 the Yosemite and local subsidences accomplished 

 by the earthquakes. The bunchy bush Com 

 posite of Owen's Valley are intensely glorious. 

 [ 163] 



