The Kern River Outing of 1^12. 



17 



"Everybody get up, get up, get up," was the call that sounded 

 at four o'clock in the morning. We were soon upon the trail. 

 Still our way was upwards, but more and more beautiful as we 

 went. Before long we came among the Sequoias, their huge 

 red-brown trunks gleaming from the hillsides through the deep 

 strong green of the pines. Noon found us where the stream 

 took its rise in a Httle meadow. As we lunched on the sunny 

 slope the pack-train passed, an Ali-Babian sight that even subse- 

 quent familiarity failed to rob of its charm. Afternoon took 

 us over the divide and down through a grove of Sequoias, even 

 finer than the one we had passed through in the morning. 



From the camp established at Lloyd Meadows we started the 

 third day of our tramp, a long day according to any kind of 

 reckoning, up hill and down dale, across streams and over 

 ridges, until we came at last to a roaring, tumbling torrent, 

 foaming green between its towering walls, and knew that the 

 preliminary work of the trip was over. We had reached the 

 Canon of the Kern. Our camp that night was at Little Kern 

 Lake, a charming sheet of water almost completely encircled by 

 the canon walls. 



Here we rested for three days. At first it seemed as though 

 washing was going to be the main business of life, but we soon 

 discovered other delights. Good fishing and splendid bathing 

 were near at hand; a climb to the butte just beyond the lake 

 was rewarded by one of the most lovely prospects of the whole 

 trip, that of Kern Lake embowered in green forests, guarded 

 by the majesty of Tower Rock, with the noble length of the 

 Kern Canon lying beyond it. Those mildly venturous sought 

 out the soda springs or hunted cataracts in the side canons — a 

 most diverting form of the chase — while some of the restless 

 spirits climbed Coyote Peak to get the first glimpse of the high 

 places whither we were bound. At Little Kern Lake, too, we 

 began to make of the camp-fire a delightful habit, and thereafter 

 not a night passed when we did not come together around the 

 blazing logs. Songs and chorus singing, interesting talks, 

 splendid violin music, served to show how richly endowed was 

 our company, and good fellowship crowned the whole. 



After three days of this busy idleness, the word was given to 

 move on to Golden Trout Meadows. Some chose to follow up 



