Sept. 30, 2015: From Wood Lake to Grouse Lake
Mileage: 12.19 miles
Despite my fraidy-cat status when I went to bed the previous night, we slept soundly and disruption-free. The mornings were definitely getting colder in the final days of September, so we had a hot breakfast of eggs and dehydrated hashbrowns with coffee and tea.
On our way out of the site and back to the trail, we ran into the two hikers we had met the previous day, and ended up chatting with them for nearly half an hour. They had been hiking buddies since high school and had spent tons of time in both Yosemite and Emigrant. When we said we were from Chicago, one of them replied “And you came here instead of Disneyland?” They were excited that we had heard of Emigrant and made our way here. The two of them were gearing up to do the John Muir Trail in the next few years. After discussing trekking poles, the Chicago Cubs, and Levi’s Stadium, we said our goodbyes and continued on our way.
The trail to Grouse Lake involved a long stretch of downhill climbing over massive rocks, which I personally found more difficult than going uphill. Stepping down large boulders and over gravelly surfaces while wearing a large pack without rolling an ankle took a lot of concentration, and using my trekking poles was a huge help. When we finally reached the bottom, we passed another couple. “How’s it goin’?” we said in greeting. The man greeted us back and replied “It’s a tough day.” The downhill stretch was immediately followed by a long uphill climb, and then finally, thankfully, the trail leveled off. While passing through a wooded area, I saw two mule deer dash across the trail ahead of us.
The closer we got to Grouse Lake, one thing became apparent; the trail in this area got used for livestock quite often, and very recently. Manure was scattered over the trail at intermittent distances, as if the horses were trying to poop out a Morse code message to us. Upon reaching the lake, we walked around until we found a campsite with easy water access. I noticed hoof prints in the mud, more horse hair strands hanging from tree bark, and a few random horse turds. We set up the tent in a turd-free zone and went through the normal motions: gathering firewood, filtering water, and setting up our bear cans away from the tent.
After the long hike, I wanted to wash up a bit. Jumping into a lake was getting progressively harder now that the weather was cooling down, especially now that the sun had been hiding behind clouds for the last few days. It would be my last time to ‘bathe’ before going back to San Francisco, so I took a deep breath and submerged myself into Grouse Lake. When you’ve been hiking for miles covered in dirt from head to toe and the smell of your own armpits can knock you out, it’s quite amazing how refreshing a 2-second dip into freezing cold water can be.
Just before sunset, the birds and squirrels started going nuts. Kurt and I both remarked on how many kingfishers and chickarees we could hear chirping away in the trees. It made me wonder: were they alerting us to something, or alerting everything else about us? We built a nice warm fire and made our last campfire meal of curry rice. The moon was once against hidden behind clouds so we had little light beyond the fire. As we warmed our toes near the flames, a light drizzle began to fall. It was the first rain we’d seen since arriving in California. The fine mist wasn’t enough to get us wet or affect the fire, so we stayed outside for another hour or so. Eventually, we retired to the tent and read books by headlamp while listening to the soft pitter-patter of rain.