Days 42 thru 44 of Lupe’s 2nd Summer of 2023 Dingo Vacation to Canada & Alaska!
9-2-23, 8:25 AM, 54ºF – A rest and recuperation day. Lupe was back at the ridge with the big view of Mount Minto (6,913 ft.) and the N end of Atlin Lake, enjoying a romp through her favorite woods. Keeping an eye out for the strange, abandoned camp the Carolina Dog had discovered in these woods last year, SPHP spotted it again. The old camp was still a terrible mess.
Parked along the S edge of the ridge, the RAV4 was fully exposed to a 20 mph SSW wind. Lupe spent the rest of the morning inside, snoozing on her pink blanket while an endless procession of big clouds sailed by. In the afternoon, she was more alert. SPHP provided a Busy Rib Hide to munch on. Every now and then, Lupe dashed out to bark at a squirrel before returning a few minutes later. Still the wind blew!
And then rather suddenly, late in the afternoon, it completely died away.
Loopster! How about another romp in the woods?
Of course, Lupe was all for it, but this time SPHP had an ulterior motive. While Lupe roamed as she pleased, SPHP searched for the abandoned camp again. Didn’t take long to find it.
Here again, SPHP? Do you have some kind of strange fascination with this place?
In a way, yes, I do, Loop. It’s a travesty what a mess this joint is, and in the middle of your favorite woods, too! We’re going to clean it up.
Half a dozen tarps had evidently been used to construct a makeshift shelter with long sticks serving as the framework. Most of these tarps were in an advanced state of disintegration. However, finding a couple that were still in relatively decent condition, SPHP began piling as much trash on them as possible. Plastic bottles, metal cans, an old burn barrel, sections of pipe used as a flue, the disintegrating tarps, and more.
Once that was done, SPHP organized the fallen framework poles in a neat stack.
There! All tidied up. What’ya think, Loop?
98% better, SPHP, if we could make all this junk on the tarps disappear.
Fully intend to, Looper. Let’s get started!
The weather was changing. Completely overcast now, it began to rain as Lupe followed SPHP during multiple trips lugging the junk-laden tarps to the road where the trash could be stuffed into the RAV4, then back to the abandoned camp again for more.
There was a rest area 4.5 miles S along Atlin Highway No. 7. Removing all of the accumulated debris required several trips in the RAV4. It was raining hard, and a couple of rest area trash bins were stuffed full by the time the project was over and done with, but the terrible mess in Lupe’s favorite woods was history.
9-3-23, 7:28 AM, 32ºF – Listening to the rain late into the night, SPHP had grown despondent over what it meant for the American Dingo’s chances of climbing a mountain today, but morning brought both another change of fortune, and an unexpected shock. Except for a big cloud billowing up from Atlin Lake, the sky was clear! And that wasn’t all.
New snow on the mountains, SPHP!
Wow! So there is, Looper. No wonder my paws got cold last night.
SPHP got out to heat up a can of chili for breakfast. Sure enough, last night’s rain was frozen on the RAV4. A lovely, crisp, early September morning! Probably going to warm up nicely.
This is going to be a great day, Loopster!
Can we go on another sniff in the woods after breakfast, SPHP?
Oh, sure! Then it’s on to Mount Hitchcock (5,886 ft.)!
After breakfast, Lupe did get her favorite woods romp. Returning to the old camp, it looked so much better than before.
9-3-23, 10:32 AM, 42ºF – Although just a dusting, the season’s first new snow added a dramatic touch to the mountains as Lupe set out. SPHP had parked the RAV4 0.5 km S of a sign for Pat Creek at a wide flat area across Atlin Highway No. 7 from a couple of side roads. Since the closest side road was only 500 feet S, that’s the way the Carolina Dog went.
The side road quickly brought Lupe to a large, pancake flat gravel yard. SPHP was a little surprised to see that the N side road led up here, too.
First Mount White, and now Mount Hitchcock. Does a mountain have to have a highway maintenance gravel yard to use as a trailhead before we’ll climb it now, SPHP?
Absolutely, Sweet Puppy! It’s our new policy.
Marvelous! So where does the trail start, SPHP? Just like at Mount White, I’m not seeing it. This time we seem to be fresh out of generator sheds for it to be hidden behind, too.
No trail that I’m aware of, Loopster.
No trail? Mountains with trails would be a better new policy, SPHP. You’re telling me that Mount Hitchcock is going to be a total bushwhack?
Not entirely. Once we get above bush line, it won’t be. As far as where to start, choose any spot you like, Looper, and we’ll see how it goes.
Crossing the gravel yard, Lupe plunged SE into the trees.
After passing through a dense band of alders, the American Dingo found herself in a jungle that looked like the forest primeval. Big spruce trees towered among moss-covered boulders and a variety of bushes. Thick moss also carpeted the entire floor of this wilderness.
What now, SPHP?
Beats me, Loopster. Just start climbing, I guess.
The jungle trek was very slow going as Lupe explored her way higher through a dank forest choked with trees, bushes with long horizontal branches, and mossy boulders. Within 15 minutes, despite not getting far at all, she reached the first of a series of small bedrock benches. These benches ran along walls ranging from only a few to 15 feet tall.
Most of the benches slanted down toward the S or SW, serving as useful ramps higher. Along each ramp, Lupe had to keep looking for a way to scramble up to the next ramp above. It usually wasn’t hard to find one. The benches and ramps kept getting both taller and wider as Lupe kept climbing. With so much exposed bedrock around, the forest thinned out, making travel easier.
Scrambling among the ramps and benches was fun, rather like exploring a maze. Some provided views of Atlin Lake. If Mount Minto hadn’t been hidden among clouds, Lupe would have seen it, too. Fortunately, even as the rock walls grew in size, she was always able to find a route higher.
By the time Lupe reached the end of the benches, she’d already gained hundreds of feet of elevation. Ahead, the sun was just peeping over a much higher ridge, shining down a steep, 200 foot tall rock slide.
Gads! Let’s avoid all this steep talus, if we can, Looper. This next hill or ridge, or whatever it is, looks highest toward the S, so try angling NE.
After scrambling across part of the rock slide, Lupe managed to get N of it, and back into the forest. Climbing somewhat more steeply again, she headed E, soon encountering one of the largest mushrooms growing out of a rotting stump that SPHP had ever seen. In fact, there were several big mushrooms, all of which looked incredibly healthy.
At first, the rockslide-evading maneuver seemed to work, but soon the terrain began steepening further. Apparently Lupe was now on the S side of a deep valley. Attempting to continue E while gradually gaining elevation, the slope kept getting steeper, repeatedly forcing the Carolina Dog higher.
You’re doing wonderful, Looper, but this traverse is getting to be next to impossible for me. I’ve got to get above it! Looks to me like there’s better terrain not all that much higher than where we’re at.
Whatever you like, SPHP. Go for it!
Heh. Easier said than done! SPHP didn’t actually like this scramble at all. The worst of it wasn’t all that tall, maybe a 20 or 30 foot high section spent desperately clinging to small trees, and whatever bits of bedrock were available to prevent a fall, yet SPHP made it up in one piece. By means of some black Dingo magic SPHP never saw in operation, Lupe made it up unassisted, too.
Above the short, scary scramble, the American Dingo kept climbing in open forest on more manageable terrain, eventually reaching a rocky spot with an encouraging view.
Thar she blows, Loopster!
Is that the top of Mount Hitchcock (5,886 ft.), SPHP? It’s still a long way!
Yes. We’re just getting started, Sweet Puppy.
The climb went on. Another rock provided a view of Black Mountain, where last night’s snow was starting to melt away. Finally reaching a relatively level spot with a view of the N end of Atlin Lake, both Lupe and SPHP were ready for a break.
As slowly as things had gone so far, the break had to be a short one. Lupe was soon climbing SE again. She was definitely making progress, as evidenced by the constantly improving view of Mount Hitchcock.
9-3-23, 2:28 PM – Lupe was still making decent progress when she came to a local high point. Despite the view of Mount Hitchcock being better than ever here, SPHP was immediately concerned. A cliff was directly ahead, blocking further advance. Peering into an 80 foot deep valley filled with yellow aspens, the drop was obviously impassable where the Carolina Dog had reached it.
We’ll have to find a way around this drop, Loop. Let’s try going S.
Sniffing her way S, Lupe steadily lost elevation, quickly coming to the best view yet of a big section of Atlin Lake.
We can turn E here, SPHP. We’re past the cliff.
Going E down an easily manageable slope of young yellow aspens, Lupe lost only another 40 or 50 feet of elevation before reaching a saddle full of moss. Starting back up again after crossing it, she soon arrived at the bottom of a nearly 200 foot high cliff.
Scooching N along the base of the cliff, the American Dingo succeeded in getting beyond it, and up onto a long ridge of bedrock with a second high point near its N end. Looking W from here, the first high point was back in sight again, only marginally lower, and not all that far away. A terrific view of Mount Minto (6,913 ft.) was beyond it.
The fact that this bedrock ridge even had a N end was not good news.
Dang, Loop! I was hoping this ridge would connect to something. It’s a dead end with another cliff, and another little valley in our way!
It’s not a straight drop. I think we can get down there, SPHP.
A quick search revealed a spot where Lupe was right. The Carolina Dog had no problem getting down the slope. By clinging to small trees, SPHP also managed to get down safely. The entire descent was only around 65 feet. At the bottom, Lupe found herself in a narrow valley full of spruce and moss.
Climbing E out of this valley, Lupe promptly reached a third high point. Happily, the 65 foot descent beyond this one wasn’t steep enough to be an issue. Coming a fourth high point, only a minor dip was beyond it. A gradual rise now led to a flat, dripping wet forest featuring a maze of open lanes of melting snow. No views at all here, except trees.
We can make some tracks now, SPHP!
Yeah, we better, too! I honestly had no idea how complex this terrain would be. We’ve chewed up a lot of time, Loopster.
Do we keep heading E here, SPHP?
Yes. We should come to a big lake, Loop. The plan is to head E for about a km along its S shore, then turn S to a ridge that will eventually lead us up the back side of Mount Hitchcock from the E or SE.
Sure sounds like the long way around, SPHP.
It is, Loopster, but according to the topo map, it ought to be the easiest way up.
Lupe was crossing an enormous saddle between Mount Hitchcock and Black Mountain. Continuing E, the terrain eventually sloped downhill. The forest was even denser and wetter here, yet aided by gravity and the American Dingo’s route finding skills, progress remained quite good.
The topo map showed open ground W of the lake Lupe was heading for. For some reason, SPHP had visions of firm, grassy terrain leading to a pebbled shore, and an open, dry forest similar to her favorite one back at the ridge with the view of Mount Minto and Atlin Lake, permitting a fun romp along the lake’s S shore. Just get to the lake, and everything would be fine!
The gradual descent through the wet forest seemed much longer than it should have been. When it finally came to an end, the scene ahead was not at all what SPHP had envisioned. The open ground W of the lake turned out to be a vast region of tussocks and waist high bushes, dotted with spindly, boreal spruce.
Oh, my gosh, Loop! It’s just a big bog! If I had any sense, I would have known it would be.
Lupe persevered, splish-splashing through the tussocks and bushes all the way to the W end of the lake. The closer she got to it, the wetter and more full of tussocks the ground became. A well-defined shoreline was merely an illusion. The whole region near the lake was standing water. SPHP’s boots and socks were full of muck and completely water-logged.
Directly S, Mount Hitchcock loomed above all, so close now, yet suddenly seeming a nearly impossible objective. It had taken 6 hours just to get this far. SPHP stood in the swamp frozen with indecision and doubt.
We made it to the lake, SPHP! What are you doing?
Having a mid-adventure crisis, I guess. This really isn’t going very well. Seems like I’ve seriously underestimated Mount Hitchcock, Loop.
Meaning what, exactly? Are you thinking of turning back, SPHP?
I’m not far from it, Loopster. There’s no way we’re going to slog through another km of this bog along the S shore of this lake, and then circle all the way around to come up at Mount Hitchcock from the SE. At this rate, it will be dark before we even get there.
Too steep and too much talus to go straight up the N face, SPHP. Want to call it, or try the NW ridge?
Plenty of talus there, too, but let’s try the NW ridge, Loopster. It’s so much shorter than my original plan, and really doesn’t look that bad from here.
Turning SW, Lupe left the lake, heading for the deep green forest beyond the bog, the sky starting to cloud up a bit in that direction.
This next part of the forest proved snowy and wet, with the additional charm of being full of deadfall. One obnoxious obstacle after another! Not terrible, but tiresome work. Yet Lupe kept at it, finally managing to reach the lower end of Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge. Her ascent began immediately, climbing SE amid a mix of trees, bushes, and boulders.
With snow making some of the rocks slippery, SPHP worried that Lupe might get injured due to a slip or missed jump. She never did. As usual, the American Dingo climbed with confidence, scrambling circles around SPHP.
A 1,400 foot ascent soon turned into a mostly talus rock hop. Lupe only needed a single boost from SPHP, and that was merely to save time. She could have easily found a way around that difficult spot on her own.
The ascent wasn’t all talus. Halfway up, Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge rose in a series of big humps, with relatively flat regions of tundra and low bushes between much steeper talus climbs. These regions provided opportunities for short breaks to rest and admire the incredible views.
9-3-23, 7:18 PM – The sunny, comfortably warm conditions down at the lake were but a memory now. From out of the WSW, a chill breeze was stirring, dropping the temperature fast as it spread high-floating clouds across the sky.
Although the ascent of Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge had otherwise been going smoothly, as usual SPHP had been dreadfully slow, not only due to the talus, but also due to a certain weariness setting in. Scrambling up one talus field after another, only to have others keep appearing above, even Lupe was feeling it.
Reaching tundra again at the top of yet another hump, a glance off to the W spoke of a growing concern. Hovering in the gray sky over by Mount Minto, the sun was no longer all that far from the horizon.
Sheesh! We’re running out of time, Loopster!
I know, SPHP, but we’ll get there. I’m feeling mighty tired, though. Can we please take another break?
Sure, but only a short one. How about some beef jerky, Loop? Should give us an energy boost.
A short break, and the ascent continued. Couldn’t be that much farther! The swampy lake Lupe had visited began coming into view. Going over to an edge offering a better look, the lake filled nearly the entire valley between Mount Hitchcock and Black Mountain (5,738 ft.).
Quite a view, Loop. Still some more up to go, but it’s beginning to look like we’re actually getting somewhere.
Let’s finish it, SPHP!
Still took a while, but the talus fields were no longer as steep, making life easier. Lupe finally reached a patch of tundra where it looked like the summit couldn’t be much higher.
Almost there, Loop. Terrific job, Sweet Puppy!
I’m expecting great things, SPHP!
9-3-23, 8:49 PM, 38ºF, Mount Hitchcock (5,886 ft.) – In fading light, and a chilly, 10 mph WSW breeze, Lupe stood on the highest rocks near the NE end of a rocky summit ridge. She wasn’t quite at the true summit yet, but not far from it. A visibly higher point was a short distance SW along the ridgeline.
After all this effort, Mount Hitchcock didn’t disappoint. The views were spectacular!
Let’s tag the true summit, Loop, then have a look around.
The 250 foot long ridge ran NE/SW. Reaching the apparent true summit, an even higher dark spire was now visible clear over at the far SW end.
Take a picture, SPHP! We’re at the natural true summit. That spire is just a cairn.
Although the views were incredible from any point along the summit ridge, the completely unexpected 6 or 7 foot tall cairn at the SW end was clearly sitting at Mount Hitchcock’s premier viewpoint. That was the place to be!
Upon arriving at the cairn, desperately tired, Lupe promptly laid down.
Congratulations, Loopster! May I shake your paw? Mount Hitchcock! I can scarcely believe we’re here. Never dreamed it would take us so long.
Lupe shook paws with SPHP.
A chocolate coconut bar would sure help about now, SPHP.
In a few minutes, Looper. Let’s get some photos while we’ve still got light.
Due N, over at Black Mountain (5,738 ft.), last night’s snow appeared to have entirely melted away. Nearly 1,900 feet below, only the swampy W end of the lake N of Mount Hitchcock was visible from the cairn.
Peak 5677, Mount Hitchcock’s somewhat lower twin, was 2 km due E. Lowlands and mostly smaller mountains were beyond it. Looking SE, Mount Carter (5,827 ft.) stood out well beyond the ridge connecting Peak 5677 and Mount Hitchcock.
The most indisputably stupendous views of all, though, were of Atlin Lake and the mountains around it. Incredibly long, Atlin Lake stretched from Birch Mountain (6,765 ft.) and Atlin Mountain (6,722 ft.) to the S, all the way to it’s N end well beyond Black Mountain. The S end of Little Atlin Lake, and Mount White (5,016 ft.), which Lupe had been to only 2 days ago, were in sight even farther N.
Lupe was thrilled when SPHP finally sat down facing E, away from the cold wind. After sharing the promised chocolate coconut bar, a Cliff cool mint bar, and beef jerky, she immediately curled up on SPHP’s lap and closed her eyes. Already wearing all layers brought along, SPHP hugged the weary Carolina Dog to warm her up while gazing out at the world from Mount Hitchcock.
Despite the tremendous views, SPHP’s thoughts were troubled. It had taken an insane amount of time to get here, more than 10 hours! Night was coming on. Soon darkness would envelope this wild, remote land. The WSW wind felt cold, and was clearly driving darker clouds this way. Snowed last night. The temperature was plunging up here. Maybe it would snow again? Rain might be even worse! Other than SPHP’s boots, Lupe and SPHP had both dried out in the breeze on the way up Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge. Getting soaking wet again now that it was cold would be awful. SPHP at least had the red rain jacket, but Lupe had no protection at all …
Lupe! Poor Lupe! She was so tired, had been so valiant, and had earned a long rest. Feeling incredibly cruel, a mere 20 minutes after arriving on Mount Hitchcock, SPHP woke the exhausted American Dingo up.
Loopster! We’ve got to get out of here!
SPHP, I feel like I just closed my eyes! Is summit hour over already? How can it be?
I’m so sorry, Looper. Your summit hour isn’t anywhere close to over yet, but we can’t stay. We’ve overdone it. It’s all my fault, but we have to go.
Lupe stood there in shocked disbelief after being pushed off SPHP’s lap. Go, yes! But go where? SPHP had a look down Mount Hitchcock’s NW ridge, back the way Lupe had come up.
Didn’t look bad at all. SPHP considered. Yeah, and what about doing it all again in the dark while exhausted? That long talus descent, the wet forest full of deadfall, the mucky march through the bog, another dark forest, those crazy steep-sided minor high points separated by valleys, that scary little scramble, finding a way through the benches and ramps, down to the boulders and primeval forest.
Oh, Loop! What have I gotten us into? Let’s have a look S. Maybe we can go down the SW face?
I don’t know, Looper. Can’t really see the SW face from here, but this looks better to me.
There’s a big flat area that must be tundra where the ridge starts turning toward Peak 5677, SPHP. Doesn’t look hard to get that far. You’re the one with the map. What does it say from there?
Hard to know, Loopster. Might be a SW ridge we can follow? May be fine, then again, maybe not. In truth, once we start heading down from that flat spot you’ve pointed out, the map doesn’t look a whole lot different than the way we came up.
Light was fading fast. Like it, or not, decision time!
S, my dearest, most faithful friend! Onward! Puppy, ho!
9-3-23, 9:53 PM – The S slope went very well. Now down at the broad saddle where the ridge to Peak 5677 began curling E, Lupe stood in deepening twilight as a harvest moon rose beyond her.
So far, so good, Loop. Let’s have a look at the SW face.
Heading over to the rounded SW side of the saddle, the news was good. Mostly tundra with some rocks mixed in, a huge, uniformly steep slope dropped many hundreds of feet into the gloom. A yawning black region lurked far below, well beyond the point where any detail could be seen.
That must be the forest, SPHP.
Yup. Well, this first part will be easy enough. Let’s lose as much elevation as we can, as fast as we can, Looper.
Little flashlight and poles in paw, SPHP, started down the slope, Lupe roaming at will. Another 500 feet of elevation was quickly and easily lost, putting the Carolina Dog 750 feet below Mount Hitchcock’s summit. A promising start, but midnight found her on rock slides, or thrashing lost among dense bushes chest high on SPHP, miserable due to lack of sleep, and continually begging SPHP to stop.
9-4-23, the wee hours – Weary as well, SPHP did stop, quite often, but never for long. Feeding Lupe the rest of her Taste of the Wild, then bits of beef jerky to keep her energy level up, the downward plunge always resumed within a few minutes. Even this late, a faint light was always in the N, just enough to reveal what looked like rain to the S. Every now and then, SPHP felt a little mist.
Could have stopped longer to let Lupe rest, but fear of the weather, and a general sense that it was better to keep moving, no matter how slowly, to stay warm kept SPHP pressing on. No doubt hoping her continued good behavior would eventually earn her mercy and respite, the Carolina Dog was a real trooper whenever on the move, which was 90% of the time.
In the dark, on the steep slopes, SPHP’s progress was dismal, ghastly. Even with the little flashlight, there was no way to tell which way to go. Appearances were deceiving, and the dizzying black void was always threatening to cliff Lupe out. Endless bushes made it impossible to see the ground. Trying to handle the flashlight while clinging to bushes, and probing each step ahead for something solid with poles that often struck only air despite being extended to maximum length, was slow work.
Leaving Mount Hitchcock’s summit, SPHP had started a point to point descent GPS track. Rarely consulting it, because the iPhone’s battery was nearly shot, results were always almost unbelievably disappointing. An hour gone by, and only 100 feet lower! Despite continual effort, SPHP was barely creeping cautiously down the mountain.
Fortunately, Lupe came to no cliffs. No rock formations to negotiate. The slope was very steep, but uniform. Step by step, clinging to bushes that the poles kept getting caught in, fearful of dropping and losing the flashlight, SPHP inched continually lower, Lupe lost down in the jungle right behind.
9-4-23 – At 6:00 AM, the sky seemed a little lighter. By 7:30 AM, SPHP was able to put away the flashlight. Lupe was still at 4,250 feet. Able to see what was ahead now, and better able to use the poles and latch onto bushes for support, SPHP’s speed improved tremendously. Lupe was nearly down to the forest now, and soon in it.
Unfortunately, reaching the forest did not help the American Dingo’s cause much. The steep descent continued. Repeatedly trying to follow drainages lower, they were choked with alders with long, horizontal branches. Lupe needed to stay in the spruce forest, or at least along its edge, in order to get anywhere.
The steepness of the slope gradually abated. Lupe began coming to flat spots where the spruce forest was fairly open, permitting rapid surges ahead. However, they always seemed to lead to another alder-choked drainage. SPHP was standing on a thick, horizontal alder branch in one of these drainages, when the unexpected occurred.
Ow! Dang! Dang! Ow!
SPHP! Are you alright? What happened?
Ow! I’ve been better. Dang it all, Loopster! That branch I was standing on snapped, and I fell.
Are you hurt bad, SPHP? Is anything broken?
No, but somehow that branch delivered a heck of a blow to my L shin when it gave way, Looper. Nothing’s broken, though, just bruised.
Are you sure, SPHP?
Yeah, I’m sure. If I had a broken leg, I wouldn’t be able to stand. Ow! Dang! Give me a moment, Loopster, and we’ll keep going.
SPHP’s L shin throbbing with pain, the journey resumed. Heading SW through another relatively flat spruce forest, Lupe was still at nearly 4,000 feet when she came to the bedrock benches. From the edge of the first one, the Carolina Dog peered down on a very steep descent.
Wow. I don’t know, SPHP. The rock walls between these benches are a lot taller than where we came up.
Not many ramps visible, either, Loop.
Might as well try it, but initial impressions were correct. Lupe got only 50 feet lower before cliffing out. A sheer drop ran all along the bench she was on. No even remotely feasible way down to the bench below. It was another crushing blow. Still nearly 1,000 feet lower, Atlin Highway No. 7 was only a little over a km away.
Doesn’t matter how close we are to the highway, Looper. We can’t get to it from here.
Back up then, SPHP?
Yup. No other choice.
Regaining the lost 50 feet, SPHP checked the map. If Lupe was truly stuck here, it would be devastating. The thought of going back up and over Mount Hitchcock again was beyond the pale.
There’s a big valley S of here that goes W to the highway, Loop. Let’s see if we can get down to it.
Turning SE, Lupe made excellent time through a flat, open forest, soon coming to a small, mostly dried-up, swamp. Circling around the muck, within minutes she reached the edge of a long, steep slope of spruce and yellow aspens. No benches, ramps, or rock formations.
Looks doable, SPHP!
9-4-23, 11:36 AM – More than 25 hours after setting out from the RAV4, Lupe was snoozing on the forest floor. Unnoticed, a few yellow leaves fell on her whenever a momentary light breeze disturbed the aspens. Still at 3,100 feet, and 2 km from Atlin Highway No. 7, SPHP had called a halt here, finally convinced that getting to the highway was now merely a matter of time.
Barefoot, SPHP pulled up a pant leg. Scraped up a bit, a giant knot was already forming on the throbbing L shin, but nothing to be done about it. At times munching on trail mix, SPHP laid watching Lupe as leaves fluttered down. Two birds came by, other than that, just gnats and a few spiders. Fearing abandonment, the only times Lupe opened her eyes were when SPHP shifted position.
Oh, Lupe! I’ll never abandon you. Don’t you know that? We’ve been through so much together. It’s all turned out fine again. How lucky we are to be here in this beautiful, remote place.
This special moment near the end of both triumph and ordeal, in a quiet place never to be seen again, went on for an hour and a half.
Still quite a march back to Atlin Highway No. 7, losing hundreds of feet of elevation along the way. Turning W as soon as the terrain allowed, Lupe came to a big expanse of level forest, crossed it, and eventually reached a faint road. SPHP first thought this primitive road might be part of the old Telegraph Trail, but it wasn’t. The road continued down and down, finally dumping Lupe out at Atlin Highway No. 7, more than 3 miles S of the RAV4.
Lupe was very happy during the hike N along the highway, leading the way, confident that the RAV4 couldn’t be much farther. Heading for the ditches whenever traffic appeared, it was uphill nearly all the way, the only significant downhill stretch, the last 500 feet down to the faithfully waiting bright blue RAV4.
9-4-23, 3:50 PM, 57ºF – Unsurprisingly, the American Dingo leapt in, curled up on her pink blanket, and closed her eyes the moment SPHP opened the door. 29 hours and 18 minutes! Mount Hitchcock was a new personal record for a day hike. Oh, what a day it had been!
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