30 



Sierra Club Bulletin. 



perfect. Snow was nearly gone except on the northern 

 slopes of the highest peaks. I sought for, but found no 

 Sierra Club canister in the monument. Having little 

 time to spare and not even a comfortable place to sit, after 

 counting forty-two emerald or sapphire-colored lakes and 

 locating many of the most celebrated summits both higher 

 and lower than my 12,000- foot outlook, I started back via 

 Ottoway Creek. I wished to see the great cirque between 

 Red and Ottoway Peaks and to return by a different 

 route than the one by which I came up, since the map 

 showed Ottoway Creek entering the lUilouette above Red 

 Creek. 



The strongest impression left on my memory from my 

 survey over the granite landscape below was the almost 

 pitifully small proportion of the vast area that was cov- 

 ered with vegetation. The forest to the west, through 

 which I had passed during my ascent of the mountain, 

 was not visible from the top where I stood. 



The long hour spent descending that awful rock pile 

 from Red Creek was more exhausting than the three 

 hours consumed in climbing on the other side. Every- 

 thing seemed to lose balance as soon as I stepped on it. I 

 regaled myself with generous handfuls of snow as a 

 solace for the hard work when I reached a level spot. 



This Ottoway Peak could very appropriately have been 

 called Blue Peak, since it has a sky-blue color. Thus it 

 contrasts with Red Peak, which is really red, varying in 

 color all the way from Etruscan red to yellow. 



After resting leisurely, viewing the great cirque and 

 deep blue glacial lake at its base, and fully gratifying my 

 city appetite for snow, I discovered that it was five o'clock 

 and concluded that it was time to begin hurrying if I was 

 to cover in two hours the ground that took practically 

 eight hours coming up. Collecting flowers, writing notes, 

 and gossiping with natives were cut out, and I hastened 

 along the forest-covered path of the ancient glacier, high 

 up out of sight of any stream, but presumably near it and 

 expecting every minute to meet the Illilouette Creek that 



