[Written Aug 1, 6AM]

The wind ceased overnight.  We can hear only the stirrings of our camp-mates.

After estimating that the next stretch of trail would take us 2-3 hours, putting us into a suitable campsite at about 7:30, we opted to stay put and selected a sheltered spot on the flatish end of the upper of the Twin lakes.  A perfect secluded spot, which we settled into with another delicious freezer bag meal of Cajun Chicken and Rice.  Topped off by a fresh avocado - what a luxury!

While we were eating, two trucks drove up the track (hey I thought we were in a wilderness) and stopped nearby.  A couple of guys approached, apologized for intruding, and explained that their group of about eight was with the California Conservation Corps, working on this stretch of trail, and their sponsor had instructed them to camp here.  We valued our spot more than solitude, so we stayed put as the group piled out and began to set up tents all around us.

After dinner we climbed a boulder pile to sit on warm rocks and watch the sun set, and we watched a couple of Japanese girls try to set up their tents, which kept blowing away in the wind.  It took one of them almost an hour.  Maybe this is their first night in the corps?

In any case, we certainly are grateful enough for the smooth and well-maintained trails to share "our" space.

We’ll be up now and on our way quickly - we hope to finish this stretch today even though over 14 miles remain.

[11:30 AM]

Two miles of steady switchbacks bring us to a side trail labeled Sand Harbor Overlook (our map calls it Christopher’s Loop). We ditch our packs and grab a snack (it’s only 9AM but we didn’t have a real breakfast) and climb up to an area of sandy washes between huge boulder piles. To the southwest is Marlette Peak standing over Marlette Lake, and as we approach the western piles we look down (straight down it seems) to Sand Harbor State Park. We see into the water as if from an airplane, and see the warm tan sand fade into the depths in a gradient of Caribbean colors. Today the air is almost perfectly still, and we can see wakeboarders and kayakers out for some early morning exercise.

Despite the futility of trying to photograph such an expansive scene I try a few shots and we speculate about how far it would be to kayak around the whole lake. 75 miles? 5 days @ 15 mpd? I’m going to have to do some planning…

The trail begins to change, becoming more Nevada-like although we’ve been in Nevada this whole section. Sagebrush becomes the dominant ground cover, replacing mule-ears and manzanitas. We pick our way cross-country through a gentle saddle with a rainbow of rocks and gravel – green, purple, orange, red – and then lichens on them from black to chartreuse. The saddle brings us to a rugged trail circling Marlette Peak on the lake side, and we again marvel a the constant panorama to our right.

We somehow blow right past Marlette Campground and stop for lunch a mile farther, as we realize we now must climb Snow Valley Peak, another 600 foot elevation gain over the next two miles. We dawdle a bit longer in the sun.

[2 PM]

Deanna performs the best Snicker’s commercial ever. She saved today’s bar for a reward after climbing Snow Valley Peak, which may not sound like a high mountain (the “Valley” kind of dilutes the “Peak”) but is over 9000 feet and the high point of this section.

Deanna began thinking about Snickers as we switchbacked (switched-back?) up through the forest and emerged into a series of high altitude glens, each one filled with a different ecosystem. One was purely lupine, another mixed sagebrush, paintbrush, and a succulent with profuse yellow blooms. Each glen is demarked by piles of rock and wind-twisted trees, framing the everpresent views of Tahoe and Marlette Lakes.

Crossing Snow Valley Peak seems like a significant milestone. From Barker pass till now, the Lake has been a presence, sometimes distant and elusive, sometimes immediate and dominating. But always to the south. Now that is changing. The Lake is to the west and the views are as often to the north as to the south. The jagged peaks and lingering snowfields of Desolation Valley loom closer, less a distant possibility than a life-size map of our final, most difficult, section.

From here to Spooner Summit, the care, a day off, and all the Snicker’s you could dream of, is all downhill.

[Mileage: 14.8 | 81.2]