Sequoia Nat'l Forrest

Two weekends ago, I made the four-hour trek from Sacto south, to meet my old L.A. friends in Sequoia for a weekend backpacking extravaganza. I had just finished up with third round interviews for next year's position, and was exhausted. Tired or not, waterlogged or not, my L.A. compadres wanted to meet in Three Kings, make the one-hour windy drive to Mineral King (clandestine style, so as not to pay the rangers) and hike the 3.5 miles in to Mosquito Lake #1. I needed to make a pit-stop around Fresno area, but John said, "Sorry, just put on a diaper and keep drivin' -- we're burning daylight." Awesome, huh?

Yes, we did start our evening hike at around 10:30p.m. after a couple slices of greasy pizza. This is what the trail looked like at night, minus the AMAZING stars that seemed to light the night on fire. *sigh* At mile 1.5, we saw headlamps down the trail in heavy pursuit. It was then that the lie was hatched. We decided that we'd be visiting French hikers that were on the way to our designated campsite. (John's mission days to France would come in handy, and yet, how sad that we'd be using it to LIE!) :) Somewhere around 3:00a.m., after getting off the trail a couple of times, we somehow stumbled on Mosquito Lake #1. We found flat ground, put up tents, loaded the bear cannisters, and fell over into bags. How tired is Whitney? Did her legs fall off?





The next day, we set out to find the other three Mosquito Lakes. This required some bouldering. FUN. Since I forgot my swimsuit and I didn't want to skinnydip in mixed company, I watched Whitney, Joel, and John swim out the island and take turns diving off. Look how funny Joel's "no-arm" dive looks. (That was in honor of his wife, Natalie, who we all missed dearly on this trip.)

The trek out provided some of the most beautiful views of the Sequoias yet. If the boys didn't think we'd mock them, I'm sure they'd have frolicked through these fields of wildflowers singing "The Hills are alive...." Instead, we got to watch Joel get eaten alive by all the mosquitos in the world. I suppose that itching, or the layer of dirt & grime was the reason for the head dunking contest in the river that was proably 10 degrees. (I think John won. He might still be suffering from slurred speech.)

Upon our exit from Mineral King, we were pleased to see that Sarah's reliable Sub-y-ru chariot had NOT been eaten through by the marmots. AWESOME!

Singing Johnny Cash all the way home was certainly a highlight. Amongst the L.A. crowd, for years now, Yosemite/Half Dome Kamp Krusty has been the annual tradition. Should the semi-annual be Sequoia? Why not? :) Thanks friends!