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NORTHERN SIERRAS: Over the River and Through the Woods
At Reds Meadow, hikers take a well-deserved respite. Emerging from the woods and back into "civilization" can be, quite ironically, what they live for out there under the stars. Dreaming of hot showers and home-cooked meals helps them endure the literal ups and downs of the peaks and valleys in the High Sierras.
Packs tend to be heavier in this section, laden as they are with 14 days worth of food, sturdier footwear to protect their feet while walking over broken granite and ample clothing to keep them warm. And all that food, necessary for their very survival also poses a threat. Where wilderness is still truly wild, as it is here, there are wild animals to contend with.
And this is one of the rare places that bears really are a concern. Although bear canisters are a required precaution in these woods, few thru-hikers allow themselves the luxury, not relishing the extra weight that this would mean on their backs. And so, they risk it. Running bags of food up a tree and hoping the bear can't climb out onto that branch.
As any backpacker can tell you, carrying 40 extra pounds above your waist makes you a little top heavy. Not terribly comforting when you're fording those roaring snow-melt swollen rivers and streams that can carry away a 250 pound man, let alone little old you. These are the moments when having a hiking partner or partners can be a definite boon.
And yet, whom you begin the journey with won't necessarily be the person you finish with. Or, even if you do, chances are along the way, they and other hikers will drift in and out of your life as you contend with differing paces and temperaments. There's an expression frequently bandied about on the trail: Hike Your Own Hike. Meaning, while the trail itself may be singular, how each person travels it is unique. And being true to yourself is upheld as the supreme ideal. Self-reliance at its finest.
But as the lonesome wilderness of this stretch nears its end, it is the abundance of people that appears most stark. From Yosemite to Tahoe, we witness the wonder of accessibility. Bill Bryson, in his book "A Walk in the Woods," poses the provocative question of whether or not our national parks and trails are overused. Whether you're on the side of the staunch conservationist or a strong advocate for maintaining the nation's resources for "multi-use" purposes, there's no denying that all of these people, all of the sudden, makes for a markedly different experience.
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