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2020-09-07, Day 3
Snow clouds roll in over a glassy un-named lake that sits at the foot of a talus-decorated cirque down which we must descend, high in the trackless northern Wind River Range, Fitzpatrick Wilderness, Wyoming.
The descent to this lake marked an incontrovertible tipping point for us. If the weather brought snow, as it seemed increasingly likely to do, it would be impossible to climb back the way we had come with the gear we had on our backs. Above where I stand here are one or two narrow or difficult places that required some Class 3 scrambling, and we lacked both metal foot-traction and ice-axes to make it an option both plausible and safe once covered in (more) snow and ice. As we picked our way carefully down through patches of vegetation interspersed with bands of talus, we crossed paths with a weasel racing uphill with a fat pika in its mouth. Helluva day to be that pika; on the other hand, it's time for a weasel celebration party.
If one looks at this photo closely, it is apparent that there are two lakes, separated by a small bridge of land. Judging from the rocks we could see, we figured we might find a flat place to pitch a tent in the patch of trees at about 11 o'clock on the far shore of the near lake. We also hoped that we would be protected from the worst of any snow and wind that the clouds might deliver after nightfall.
We made beef and bean burritos with cheese and rehydrated salsa for dinner, and we brewed a hot cup of herbal tea. Before our repast was complete, the temperature began to drop, the light commenced to fade, and the first flakes floated down through the wind-battered trees and landed on our jackets. We cleaned up the pot, hung the food, and climbed into the down sleeping bags to stay warm. The snow began to drive into the tent fly as it got dark, and I watched pellets of corn snow repeatedly gather in a few flatter parts of the fly, then slide down the vestibule toward the ground once a certain critical mass was attained. The tent did seem to be protected from the worst of the wind but the thin canopy of trees was doing very little to shield us from the accumulating snow.
Not long after dark, the snow and wind were joined by near simultaneous exclamations of thunder and lightning. The inside of the tent lit up like bright electric day, and enough detail could be made out of the sky immediately above us that it seemed as if we were on the inside of a snow-globe. Up to this very moment, I had never camped at the very edge of timberline in a high-elevation cirque in the middle of a full-on raging winter storm, with no trail anywhere close-by, and the surrounding talus now getting buried in who-knew-how-many inches of snow and ice. I thought somewhat academically that rest might be a good idea, but it proved difficult to relax. Every time I rolled over and glanced up at the tent fly, I noticed the weight of accumulating snow, and I hit the nylon to keep the vestibules on either side of the tent from collapsing. I have a two-person MSR backpacking tent that weighs just over 3 pounds (1.4 kg), including poles and stakes. It is a fabulous, light-weight, 3-season tent, and the conditions outside could only properly be described as that other, most unwelcome fourth season.
Wearing all of our clothing, and wrapped tightly in the down sleeping bags to try and retain as much warmth as possible, I can report that we were not downright cold. As the hours slowly passed, we noticed a change to the tenor of the storm. What was corn snow gave way to gusts of snow flakes complemented with a peppering of larger pea-sized ice particles. These hailstones irregularly collided with the aluminum poles of the tent frame, and we were treated to the relatively frequent pinging sound of the ice as it danced merrily off our stretched nylon bubble.
The only way out of this place in the morning would be to navigate the talus and attempt to find the nearest trail. The maps we consulted a month or so earlier when we identified bail-out points suggested that would be a distance of a little over 2 miles (3.2 km), with a descent of 1,000 feet (300 m) through what we surmised would be talus of some size, interspersed with bands of spruce forest and copious downed logs that would be slippery with snow and ice. Our initial assumption that the storm would likely bring only a few early-season inches to the Wind Rivers was clearly incorrect, and we would now pay whatever price the wilderness required to return to the warmth and comfort of the vehicle, which was over 20 miles (32 km) and one 11,000 foot (3,350 m) pass away from where we huddled. Apparently, getting older does not necessarily guarantee that one accrues any real wisdom.
1 Orange Tip
1 Holly Blue
I saw the same down the road. Only 4 butterflies today.
In my garden 19th April 2026
Knecht of Schwaderloch Saurer D330-B 8x4 3-way tipper parked up for the weekend at its owners depot in the canton of Aargu.
These impressive lorries with their massive hub-reduction equipped rear axles ceased production around 1982, and 40years on this one appears to still be working?
Last post for a while, going away.
Thanks to you all for your visits faves and comments.
Will fight the battle to catch up when i return.
Warmest wishes
David
SY no. 1210 coming down off the Wulong Tip at Fuxin with a set of barely visible discharged tipper wagons on 15 November 2012.
Fuxin Mining Administration
Liaoning, China
Burnt Tip Orchids in limestone grassland in the Derbyshire Peak District. As rare as hens teeth in the Peak District.
Laguna Santa Rosa y Nevado Tres Cruces. Chile
La Laguna Santa Rosa se encuentra a 3.600 metros sobre el nivel del Mar, al interior de la ciudad de Copiapó (Chile) en pleno altiplano Chileno. Se pueden apreciar variados tipos de flamencos asi como guanacos y vicuñas. El lugar es realmente un poema a la belleza y el silencio lo hace aún más sobrecogedor.
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"Santa Rosa" lagoon and "Tres Cruces" volcano.
The Santa Rosa lagoon is at 3.600 meters over the sea level, near the Copiapó city (Chile) in the middle of the chilean desert. You can see several species of flamingos and "guanacos". The place is a poem to beauty.
MI GALERIA ACA (my gallery)
MIS ULTIMAS FOTOS ACA (Last shots)
MI ADN (DNA) ACA .
I think I like this.
more ggt tomorrow. funnnnnn.
I bought new shoes.
finally.
my face is dry.
I don't want to sleep yet.
It's been a good day.
wow. I am lame as shit.
Enraged seagulls swarm on a bald eagle about 200' directly above my house. The eagle could not have cared less and did not seem at all concerned.
This image is © Ian Benninghaus 2010. All rights reserved.
Got a cooperative Russet-tipped Clubtail at Hornsby Bend (Platt Lane area) with the help of Eric Isley
Last Thursday I spent a few hours on one and the same field for the Orange Tips.
They were very active and shy, luckily I had the telelens with me. So I could keep some distance, while zooming in.
Here a male feeding from the Cuckoo Flower.
Handheld shot.
A little more work on the tipper body and the cab interior are all that’s left to complete this model.
A male Orange-tip (Anthocharis cardamines) from this morning's session at Loddington
The back drop is a field of Dandelions
Tip 1: You Can Create Amazing Designs with Patchwork and it is very calming too!
Great Tips From Rachel Dodds
Here are a few little ideas that will help with any patchwork sewing that you do.
-Use spray starch on your fabric – this helps to stop the edges stretching and ruining your...
Let your life lightly dance on the edges of time, like dew on the tip of a leaf.
by Rabindranath Tagore
Colotis danae
A prize find on an early morning search for butterflies, insects and other natural spectacles.
A close profile view revealed some precipitation on its eyes. Here, as several other butterflies seen that morning, it was basking, intent on getting a right dose of vitamin E (or warmth) in readiness for a good day of flight and flowers.
Lake Orta, Italy: A True HIdden Gem You Didn't Know Until Now Travellector #lake #Orta #TravelTips - ift.tt/2dgv6QV