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YSI Trails - Old and New                                        Saturday May 18, 2002

 

A few years ago, (actually July 1,1992 - almost exactly 10 years ago), I grabbed my favorite gal (that would be Claire) and headed off to the Florence Lake area of the Sierra. We had already trekked most of the Emigrant Basin and we had followed most of the old YSI trails out of Mammoth - Devil's Postpile area, marveling at Garner Lake and Thousand Island, Iceberg Lakes. We weathered the first storm of winter at 11,000 foot Lake Cecil, watching snow clouds blow furiously thru the jagged Minarets pinnacles, obscuring Mt. Ritter and Banner.

 

Now we arrived at Florence Lake, with just enough time to get the mandatory ice cream cone from the old wooden store, before jumping into the launch to sail to the south end of the lake. I pointed out the trail to Claire on the west side of the lake that we use to hike - one time at night - all the way to Blaney Meadows, 22 of us getting lost for a few hours in the dark forest.

 

At the south end, we thanked our captain, shouldered our packs, and started up the gentle granite slope, the sun getting a little warmer each step. There was something moving in the brush up and to the left and we veered over that way. It turned out to be an old man wearing light-weight gloves and working with some pack animals. I wasn't sure that he had heard us, but when he turned there was a gleam in his eyes as though he was sure we would be amusing specimens. "Fred Ross?", I said. "I'm Rich Kelso and I use to come here 30 years ago with Larry Moitozo". His face lit up as he animatedly peppered me with questions about Larry. We spent a pleasant spell talking over old times. Hell! Bearded Larry with his square glasses, Swiss hat, Lederhosen shorts, red concertina singing songs of loggers stirring coffee with their thumbs, hairy legs, suspenders, Boda Bag full of red wine that he'd use to spice our dinners, horn on rawhide to blow: It was like riding with a traveling circus, Larry playing all of the parts. We talked alot and when we parted, we left with two of Fred's finest burros, Mother and her daughter, Ginger. Fred waved a goodbye and turned his attention to his other burros.

 

Heading up the hill, I recounted to Claire how Fred and I had walked down from Blaney Meadows to the lake together for supplies. The four-wheel threaded around us, but Fred told me he preferred walking and could get there faster than the jeep. I had a hard time keeping up with him. Now Claire and I were trying to keep the pace of the burros, which is fast when going up hill. Nearing the top we heard a noise and turn to see 80-year-old Fred coming up from behind. A little embarrassed, I say something like, Oh, you've caught up with us. "Yes!", was his quick reply. "And apparently that isn't a very hard thing to do!", and shot on by us like a elf with a mischievous grin.

 

We spent a comfortable night at Blaney Meadows, and in the morning we started off with the burros up to Piute Canyon. Along the way I recounted to Claire old YSI Tales, Legends and Other Lies: Here is where we had lunch - Spaghetti Mac, we camped there - I was 'Pots n' Garbage' that night, Urrutia fell in the river there, we put rocks in Rosy's pack there, here is where Rosy discovered them.