[Written July 30, 5:30AM]

[Aug 4th: photos added, see the whole set here]

The wind rushing through the treetops on the ridge sound like a distant freeway at capacity.  Every now and then a gust curls down from the rocky spines into the bowl of Mud Lake and flaps the sides of the tent - now getting a bit less taut after regular shakings all night.  Nevertheless, I slept solidly after yesterday’s rather grueling stretch.

Section 2, Tahoe Meadows to Brockway Summit, includes the high point on the Rim Trail, and it’s 18.9 mile length provides some of the most far-reaching views of the trail.  But that elevated perspective doesn’t come without some cost.

I’m doing this section with my daughter, my brother, and his daughter.  To make this section possible for kids, we’ve broken it into three segments - Tahoe Meadows to Mud/Gray Lakes, then to Martis Peak Lookout, then to Brockway Summit.  By leaving Auburn early (7:30) after a couple-day break from the trail, we were able to scout out the Martis Peak access road, which turns out to be narrow and windy but nicely paved, getting within a quarter-mile of the rim trail.  Exiting here will allow us to skip the last 4.4 miles of the trail (except for yours truly who will solo it) and split the remaining trail into a manageable overnight.

The trail starts at the summit of the Mount Rose Highway, where there is a large, newly developed trailhead, at which we just managed to find a parking spot at 9:30 Saturday morning.  The first part of the trail was quite packed with people and their dogs.  By packed, I mean that you rarely were out of sight of another person.  The trail winds around the side of the Galena Creek basin, and at about 2.5 miles comes to a series of large meadows, fed amply by springs and streamlets, and featuring a cascading waterfall.  Despite the impossibility of having to falls to ourselves, it made a perfect spot for lunch.

Shortly after the falls, the trail forks, and many of the day hikers take the fork that leads to the top of Mt. Rose.  We started a moderate climb of about a mile, meeting up with the alternate TRT route (bikes allowed) at the base of a 1000 ft ascent to Relay Peak.  The remainder of the day hikers turn back here to the trailhead, and after passing only a couple more adventurous souls, we had the trail to ourselves the rest of the day.  We didn’t encounter anyone until the following afternoon - even the tracks across the remaining snowfields showed little evidence of passage within recent days.

The ascent to Relay Peak is along a broad road, providing access to a telecommunications relay station on a ridge.  Our progress was slow.  Laine developed a rather large blister on her instep which it took multiple attempts to dress securely and comfortably.  The elevation was taking its toll too, and we required frequent stops.  By the time we crested the ridge, it was obvious we were travelling well under a mile an hour, not a good pace for a hike of almost 9 miles.

The view from the ridge was unbelievable though.  We looked west across Truckee to Donner Lake and the mountains surrounding Donner Summit, north to see stretches of I-80 and the reservoirs of Prosser Creek, Boca, and Stampede, and southeast to the south end of Washoe Lake.  Row after row of the Sierra Nevada stretched out in a mountain-top vista.  Only Lake Tahoe was hidden by the end of the ridge, Relay Peak, still 200 feet above us though we were already at 10,100 ft.

At this altitude we could hear the whistles of gliders overhead (rides available from the Truckee Airport not far below us) and watch them wheel in the updrafts caused by the strong winds bouncing off the mountain tops.

Much improved from last week, the temperature is perfect in the sun, cool in the shade or when receiving a blast of wind off a precipice.  The few clouds assumed the lens shape indicating strong high altitude winds, and the more altitude we gained, the more we entered this windy realm.

Traversing the spine led us to the summit of Relay Peak, and at last we were presented by a view of the whole of Lake Tahoe.  A deep, almost pruple, blue, stretched out so steeply below us that perspective shifts and the Lake appears to tip upwards at it’s mountain-ringed far end.

These views simply are too large to be captured by camera.  Even if one could, maybe they would need to be viewed in thin air to be appreciated.

With almost four miles remaining in the day, we made an effort to increase our pace on the switchbacks through boulder fields and wildflower meadows, winding along spires and traversing high bowls dropping into boulder fields and meadows far below.

We saw a marshy pond hundreds of feet below and mistook it to be Mud Lake, giving us both hope that our destination Gray Lake was near, and despair at the elevation loss (and tomorrow’s gain) that it would take to reach it.  But as the junction to Gray Lake receded ever farther, and the light slanted into evening and the windy chill forced us into increasing layers of clothing, we at last spied another lake on our left not far below the trail - the real Mud Lake.  Soon we reached a junction promising to lead to Gray Lake, and we compared the half mile to an unseen destination to a tenth mile to a semi-sheltered bowl with obvious potential camp spots.  The decision wasn’t too hard, and we skated cross-country down the rocky, sandy slope to our alternate destination for the night - Mud Lake.

Despite it’s name and reputation, at this time of year Mud Lake’s waters are clear, and the shoreline is muddy - but a damp DG kind of mud rather than a grassy, marshy organic kind, so approaching for water was easy.  There are no granite formations from which to dive into the lake, but with temperatures still dropping rapidly nobody was tempted to stick so much as a toe in the waters.  Instead we opted for a small campfire.  I’m not sure this is allowed within the Mt. Rose Wilderness area, but the barren landscape doesn’t seem amenable to forest fires, and there are already several fire pits around the lake.

We ravenously scarfed our Ramen by the fire, flavored variously with alfredo sauce, pesto, a foil package of baby clams, and trail magic.  Ahhh!  A little more time to filter more water, erect tents and hang a bear bag, have a last cup of cocoa by the fire, and the twilight began to fail.  I read aloud to Laine a couple of chapters of her book, and we were both sound asleep shortly after nine.

I write this as the dawn rises, with noisy wind, postponing emerging from the warm(-ish) confines of our tent into the chill morning.

[Mileage: 8.8 | 45.0]