100 million years ago, immeasurable power changed the face of the earth. This cataclysmic event left an immense deposit of light-colored granite, which was in turn carved with the artistic, albeit clumsy hands of shifting glaciers.

Today the glaciers are mostly gone and the earth is no longer erupting, but what remains is no less awesome and immeasurable, no less beautiful. It is a hard and blazing place, wild and untamed, and buzzing with an energy that seems to seep out of the rock and flow in the rivers.

Up and over Cottonwood Pass, sits the first real view of the High Sierra. Chicken Spring Lake is a bit of a misnomer. Despite its slack jaw connotation, it is subtly elegant. Two bald, granite peaks frown into a saddle and loom over the still and clear water.

Within the white glow of the stone, and the reflection of trees in the lake water, was the confirmation that we were doing the right thing, and that everything would be ok. It was a defining moment in the hike.

The twilight air was cool but not unpleasant, and the red setting sun glinted through gaps in the tall pines, dappling the trail with a radiant glow. We stopped several miles later and camped near a rushing creek. Continue reading “Pacific Crest Trail Thru Hike: The Range of Light”