High Sierra Topix

On one summer, I met Grandma Whitney. I was descending from the summit of Mount Whitney, and she and her family were ascending at about 13,500'. She was 89 years old at the time, and that was her 22nd time to bag the peak.

(inspiration to us all)

My father-in-law, who is pushing 70, has this new saying....”don’t let the old man in” or woman as it goes for his wife. My kids are always reminding them to not let the old man in. For now, we will go into the mountains until that time comes when we are no longer able. I am haunted by this thread. I vividly remember when my great grandfather and then my grandfather could no longer make the trips to our sacred lakes. As the years passed, I would find myself drawn more spiritually into to the wilderness of my ancestors. It was they who planted the goldens and built the trails in the Sierra, and my privilege to have been born into a family with such deep Eastern Sierra roots. The old man eventually came, and my grandfather was no longer able to make it into the high country. It never left him or his spirit. He was always drawn to the mountains until he passed. He would get excited to see my photos and hear stories about my trips into the golden lakes he loved so much. I would always make an effort to pack a mess of goldens out for him and my grandmother would fry them up for us just like the old days. I am haunted and blessed to have such wonderful memories. When it was close to his last call, I remember making the trek to French Canyon, caught a limit of nice size fish from Puppet, filleted and packed them in snow, and made the trek down. He always relished this little tradition and the fish I would bring him. When the old man came in, I could see he was delighted to know he had passed his wilderness to his grandkids and then later to his great grandkids. When the day comes that I meet the old man in me and am no longer able, I can only hope my grandkids will also make the trek into our sacred mountain wilderness to bring be back some golden trout. So that I too may reminisce about those days soaking up the high Sierra. Until then.....I don’t plan to let the old man in, I’ve got traditions and many miles of trails left to pass along time my sons.

Bad Man from Bodie - what a beautiful post! Thank you.
-Phil

When I got sick with an autoimmune disease last year, I was faced with the reality that my backpacking days might be over. For me the "what next" was to take my Tacoma and get out in the woods. It was certainly not the same as backpacking but it at least got me out there.

Thankfully, the meds have gotten the retroperitoneal fibrosis under control and tomorrow I will be spending my first night backpacking in nearly 2 years.

Excellent. Hope you have a wonderful time.

Hey Mav, I'm with oldranger. He said it first and said it best. Die with the boots on! Cameron

That failing, living it vicariously on HST might get me through the day?

bobby49 wrote: ↑Thu Jul 16, 2020 9:31 am On one summer, I met Grandma Whitney. I was descending from the summit of Mount Whitney, and she and her family were ascending at about 13,500'. She was 89 years old at the time, and that was her 22nd time to bag the peak.

(inspiration to us all)

I ran across a guy a few years back who was solo backpacking into the Caribou Wilderness for some backcountry fishing. He said he was 92. No way of knowing if he was truthful about his age, but he looked it.

The initial post are questions I am asking myself. My last overnighter in the backcountry was 2018, a 10 day trip in the Sawtooths with my son. My legs were starting to go then and the following February I had to back surgeries. It appeared to at least partially alleviate the problem. Then on my first big 10 mile rt day hike, i stumbled fell and broke my shoulder. That was june and I resumed day hiking in the fall in the Sierra. Since then I have experienced a gradual deterioration in strength and coordination in my legs despite regular hikes up the Butte in Bend (480 ft of vertical) and lately doing it at least once a week 2 times with 20 lb pack. Also crosscountry skiing once a week. My neurologist tested me and diagnosed me with idiopathic peripheral neuropathy. Yesterday I notice that just a couple of years ago I eagerly anticipated the downhill sections of skiing that now I shied away from steep downhills and the downhills I did take were using a shakey wedge to avoid uncomfortable speed that I used to seek. Now my son wants to do another backpack. But his window is september and the risk of smokey conditions and my limited mobility is a scary issue with me now. I have a couple of alternative plans but am hesitant to actually commit until I see what my condition is this summer. No I am not bitter but I am jealous of those older folks with the mobility to safely negotiate the backcountry. But I am sad that I am not likely to be capable of returning to difficult to access places like Adair, Edna, Edyth, Crabtree, and other big fish lakes. During the past few weeks my mind keeps going back to my past trips and I marvel at what I used to be able to do and how good I felt doing it.

Now would be the time to form your own outdoor skills class, and you would be the primary lecturer. Get some young outdoor punks to do all of the leg work for you.

bobby49 wrote: ↑Fri Feb 05, 2021 10:48 pm Now would be the time to form your own outdoor skills class, and you would be the primary lecturer. Get some young outdoor punks to do all of the leg work for you.

Not my idea of a good time. Just have to wait for my son he can carry twice the weight as I can and still have to wait for me. And he knows how to select a good site and set up and take down camp. I wouldn't mind taking one grandkid at a time but they can't carry enough and besides the "badgrandpa" in me would take over and I'd offer them a backcountry daiquiri every evening.