Just a couple of weeks after sharing one of my favorite places with the boy and the dog, I returned with just the dog. While Henry and I had only a very short time to spend adventuring, Tinkham and I had a bunch more time and we weren't content with just walking on the frozen lake. We continued up the "Gully of Doom" to the meadows and lakes above.
This is one of my favorite places to explore in the late spring and early summer. The snow is firm enough to walk on, the north facing gullies are glissadeable, the avalanche lilies are in full bloom, and the lakes are just starting to melt out producing an electric blue halo on each.
We climbed high and dropped into one of two long chutes down to the lake basin. I started sliding and Tink... well... just watch.
Any concern I had about her loving the adventure were scoured away like the skin on the back of my legs sliding across the icy snow. (Nah. The snow was soft enough it didn't hurt.)
We explored around the lakes, I scoped out a future adventure (that creek has to go somewhere, right?), and then we started back up the other long chute. Just like other dogs, Tink outpaced me up the hill, looked back, and then charged down. I can only hope she grows out of the habit of charging down the hill, sliding into me, and almost knocking me backward.
You know we had a great time playing in the snow when views from the summit weren't the highlight of the trip. We even did a little bonus scrambling to grab one last epic glissade that left me so stoked I couldn't control my facial expressions.
The only downside to the trip was descending the appropriately named Gully of Doom. In spite of its name, the gully hadn't caused anyone serious injury until this trip. About half way down, I slipped on a bit of ice and reached out with my left hand to regain my balance. Apparently, the wall was closer than I thought and I was stronger than I thought and managed to snap both a carbon fiber trekking pole and the radial collateral ligament in my left ring finger. (No, not that ring finger.)
In the months since the injury I've had three sets of x-rays and an MRI. Apparently, I can recover without surgery if I'm just smart enough to not do stupid things. Like hiking. Or camping. Or climbing. I guess I should just schedule the surgery now... But it was still a wonderful time in the best place on earth and the puppy was thrilled to be with me. Everybody won, especially the orthopedic surgeon.
