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Sierra Club Bulletin 



thirteen days from Cascada and our packs weighed about 

 thirty-seven pounds each. 



After resting and loading up with groceries we were ready 

 to depart. Mr. Andrews called us aside and told us that the 

 telephone wires were hot with instructions for the men at the 

 next dam to be on the lookout for "two fellers with packs who 

 acted suspicious and might be German dynamiters!" We 

 thanked him and started. Our packs now weighed sixty-eight 

 pounds apiece, so we found that one mile was far enough for 

 that evening. We went on up Bishop Creek, past South Lake, 

 and at the end of the day came to the most beautiful campsite 

 of the trip on the shore of Long Lake. The lake is set like the 

 jewel of the poet, between great colored mountains. Our camp 

 was in a little clump of limber pine and tamrac. The elevation 

 is 10,800 feet. We were awakened by our familiar friend the 

 Gambel sparrow, who sings just before dawn, and we rose 

 while the stars were still visible. The lake was frozen nearly 

 over. 



On our way up toward the pass we met two young men 

 from Bishop, with five burros, who were returning after their 

 second attempt to get their animals over. After a long hard 

 climb we reached Bishop Pass and crossed into Fresno County 

 again. Our course was now over great snow-fields into the 

 headwaters of the Middle Fork of the Kings. It was after 

 midday and the snow was soft. My companion was ahead 

 breaking trail when he went through the crust and wrenched 

 his ankle. Luckily we had reached timber line, and we soon 

 found a good camping-place on the Dusy branch, where we 

 stayed for two days. I explored a little, finding one easy pass 

 (for knapsackers) over into the Palisade Basin. We finally 

 got off again, myself with the larger load, down, down, into 

 the canon of the Middle Fork. The injured ankle improved 

 rapidly and we made the junction of the Dusy branch and the 

 river. We here struck a recently completed portion of the 

 John Muir Trail, so travel was easy. After awhile the trail 

 stopped. The workmen had blasted a way half the distance up 

 a water-worn cliff and then quit for the season. By using the 

 rope we worked our way up a cleft in the rock. Toihng up- 

 ward slowly, we camped on the edge of a lakelet, about a mile 



