On Bubbs Creek, .3 mi. from the trail junction of the JMT and Cedar Valley. Betty misread it as “Bubba” Creek, so that’s what it is from now on.
This is a lovely wooded area with small meadows. Vidette Meadow by name. Glen Pass was like most of the passes: kick-butt, but doable at a slow and steady pace. I kept looking for mountain sheep, but they eluded my eyes. I did see a number of pikas, which cheers me.
It’s nice to walk alone, and then really a treat to hear someone call my name. It was the “Boys from Indiana,” who I hadn’t seen since Muir Trail Ranch. Yellie was with them (of course they know each other, in the way that everyone knows everyone out here). They were sitting in the shade a little ways up from the Charlotte Lakes trail junction, and it was good to visit a bit with Steve (who helped me silence my water bottle squeak), Mick, and the others. Then it was a long slog downhill to here. Only 7.5 miles or so today. Tomorrow is Forester Pass, the biggest and baddest of them all! Then in two days, Whitney, and the end of the trail.
Here by the stream in Vidette Meadows, there are lots of woodpeckers. The earth looks drier than farther north. Betty and I were supposed to meet at a specific campsite today, when she returned from Independence with the resupply today. She figured that she would arrive at 5:00 PM. I made camp, set up her tent, washed out my clothes and washed off the dust and sweat of the day, and walked back down the trail to meet her at the Cedar Valley trail junction. At about 5:10, she came down the trail. Pretty good guesstimate.
We’re camped near three guys who were wearing earbuds on the trail, so I asked what they were listening to. Christian rock, Avett Brothers, some solo piano music, and some other people I didn’t know and whose names I can’t remember.
I love walking up and down through the various biomes, in and out of the chinquapin and manzanita and juniper, down to big lodgepole pine and fir forests, up to matted snow-smashed willow stands (squats?), to the stunted and twisted lodge poles, past the trees and into the area of frosted buckwheat and little flowers I don’t have names for, and then back down through it all again.
7:30 and I’m in bed. Might sleep soon. Betty brought me an new pair of reading glasses!!! What does John Muir have to say this evening?