164 



Sierra Club Bulletin 



heard above the drip, drip, drip of the pine boughs. This was 

 Gnat Meadow, which seemed the veritable home of the clouds. 



House Meadow lay eighteen miles beyond Gnat Meadow. 

 The swimming in the North Fork of the Kings River was ex- 

 cellent and restful, so that by the time we had passed through 

 the exquisite bit of forest and meadow left for the late after- 

 noon, we arrived in good condition at the driest camp we had 

 seen for some time. 



En route to the next camp most of the party went through 

 the McKinley Grove of Big Trees. Some rangers had volun- 

 teered to lead the march in order that we might not stray off 

 on the various cattle trails. A line was formed about one 

 hundred and fifty strong, or rather long, since the march was 

 made in single file. Jokes and badinage passed up and down 

 from one end of the line to the other until the grove was 

 reached. The grove is typical of the Big Tree groves and the 

 specimens numerous and of perfect form. 



At Glenn Meadow, the last night's camp, we had to forego 

 the pleasure of a camp fire because of the early start necessary 

 next morning. It was not that the trip to Shaver was so long, 

 only twelve miles, but the packers had to have the dunnage 

 bags early in order to get down to Stevenson's Creek at half 

 after ten, the time scheduled for departure on our special train. 

 Shaver was surprised at eight o'clock in the morning by the 

 unexpected descent upon it of the members of our party. 



Down a steep trail, four miles beyond, was Stevenson's 

 Creek, near the terminus of the San Joaquin and Eastern Rail- 

 way. Civilization which we had left so far behind on the other 

 side of the Sierra was meeting us again. We survived the ex- 

 citement of the moving picture company, which photographed 

 us; we enjoyed the expansive but warm foothill views, until 

 finally Fresno came all too soon, and then a night in the train 

 and we were back in town. 



And now there often comes a longing to return to those 

 pleasant spots — a longing which brings with it memories that 

 are as refreshing as a cool, fragrant breeze from far-away 

 mountain summits. 



