The five-day “Mini” Backpack is something we do with our 7th and 8th-grade Scouts every two years. This year, we had an eleventh-hour destination change from #colorado’s Flat Tops Wilderness to the much less fire-hazardous West Elks Wilderness near Durango.
Day 1: Trailhead to Middle Creek along the Lowline. Lots of cows and a forest fire scar. Water scarcity and everyone getting used to heavy backpacks and steep climbs. Crew working to come together.
#wilderness #backpacking #ScoutsBSA
“Evening Light, Trees” — Just before sunset, evening light slants across trees high in the Eastern Sierra.
In late July a group of us camped for two nights at a lake just east of the Sierra Nevada crest. The lake is at about 10,000′ of elevation, and peaks to the west tower almost 3000′ higher. That tall ridge (the Sierra crest) begins to block the direct light remarkably early, in some places an hour and a half or longer before actual sunset. To photograph the “late” light close to this ridge I had to start quite early!…continues: https://gdanmitchell.com/2025/08/13/evening-light-trees/
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August 13, 1983, 42 years ago today: The Appalachian Trail went into Dark Entry Ravine, ascending through the perpetual twilight silence of an old hemlock forest. Long years of decomposing fallen needles had buried the boulder-strewn ground and transformed it into a soft, lumpy carpet. It was lovely, even though the stream was barely running.
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August 13, 1983, 42 years ago today: It was still cloudy this morning when I woke up, and the air had turned even chillier. I had not seen a morning that cold since Tennessee. After the persistent heat wave that dogged me through six states from Virginia through New York, shivering was a pleasure. Still, in order to warm up, I really had to start moving quickly when I hit the trail.
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August 12, 1983, 42 years ago today: Macedonia Brook abounded in tough climbs. The rocky trail off Cobble Mountain descended very steeply over boulders sheathed with slick, dripping moss. There were more nice views a mile later from the top of Pine Hill. The entire state park was beautiful, one of the nicest stretches on the Appalachian Trail since Shenandoah National Park in Virginia.
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August 12, 1983, 42 years ago today: The open, grassy crest of Cobble Mountain looked just as lovely today as the image which had lingered in my memory. Encircling the summit was a sprawling rock outcrop with extensive views to the north and west. The mountain overlooked a lush, green valley filled with forests and pastures in the foothills of eastern New York State.
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August 11, 1983, 42 years ago today: The first few miles of Connecticut trail were on typically rough New England trail, but there were good views through the rain from some ledges called Indian Rocks and from the summit of Mount Algo.
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August 11, 1983, 42 years ago today: The first mile of the day’s hike was on a forest path. Swarms of biting deer flies harassed me relentlessly during that stretch. It was a relief to come out on the beginning of a three-mile roadwalk and leave the little bastards behind me, but the escape was only temporary.
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August 10, 1983, 42 years ago today: About two miles from the end of the long roadwalk, we stopped at a little town park in Pawling, New York, about an hour’s drive and two or three universes removed from New York City. Edward R. Murrow Memorial Park contained a small lake with a tiny beach, a snack bar, and a picnic area.
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August 10, 1983, 42 years ago today: I cannot say enough about Ralph’s Peak Hikers’ Cabin, where we slept last night. The southbounders at Graymoor Monastery told us about this place, and I am very happy that they did. The club that maintains this section of the Appalachian Trail (Ralph’s Peak Hikers) has restored an old farmhouse and furnished it with beds, a kitchen table and
I think this is my next #backpacking trip! Yosemite high country with alpine lakes, granite passes, and a mixture of High Sierra backpacker's camps and wilderness camping.
And the midpoint would be Merced Lake, which was my destination for my first backpacking adventure last year. Time to make it happen!
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August 9, 1983, 42 years ago today: The next three-and-a-half miles were an easy walk through pleasant forests with no distant views. The Appalachian Trail then crossed New York Route 301 and ascended a very rocky trail alongside Canopus Lake. After a couple more miles, we stood on a rock outcrop near the north end of that lake which almost seemed to overlook two different lakes.
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August 9, 1983, 42 years ago today: Charlie started hiking at 8:00, just before a lively little thundershower kicked up. Pete and I waited it out a while before we left. Pete’s small transistor radio, on which we heard the forecast, called for widely scattered showers, so we had reason to believe that it would blow over quickly. It did. When it stopped, we were quickly on our way.
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August 8, 1983, 42 years ago today: I had hiked the preceding four miles without stopping, in one-and-a-half hours. I now possessed a half-hour cushion for my attempt to reach the monastery. I stumbled to the top of the ridge, where the Appalachian Trail came out onto an old dirt road.
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August 8, 1983, 42 years ago today: I passed park benches also swarming with humanity, most of whom seemed to be staring at me, wondering what the hell I was doing walking through that park with a backpack on. I did not do much to reassure them. I could see that most of them thought I was a psycho, and that had me constantly breaking out in fits of laughter, which no doubt convinced them.
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August 8, 1983, 42 years ago today: The first climb was a bear, even compared to the rest of the trail in this park. By the time I reached the ridge crest I was exhausted, and I had only come little more than a mile. It was depressing. I had the idea in the back of my mind that one or two days of hiking would restore all the conditioning lost in those few days at home.
Sawtooth Peak From The Edge Of Columbine Lake
I'll admit that sometimes it's way easier to get the photo you want from a phon
https://thecareyadventures.com/blog/sawtooth-peak-from-the-edge-of-columbine-lake/
steam—water boiling
for morning coffee while mist
clings to the mountain
