Loop: White River Campground to Sunrise; to Burroughs Mountain peak; to Glacier Basin and above; to campground

Miles: 12.5 (11.5 by trail according to topographical map; ~1 mile off trail)

Elevation gain: ~3300’ ascent, same for descent (4100’ at camp; 7402’ Burroughs Mt peak)

July 11, 2015

Photos viewable at (recommend selecting ‘slideshow’ option):

http://s44.photobucket.com/user/baypiper/library/Rainier%20NP%20Sunrise%20Burroughs%20Mt%20Glacier%20Basin?sort=2&page=1

Soon after returning to camp after the first day’s hike (see below), to Summerland/Panhandle Gap/Indian Bar, the weather changed.  That day had been mild and mostly clear.  Through the evening the temperatures cooled by about ten degrees and a light rain began to fall at dusk.  I was glad for it; I was hoping for a cool, damp relief from the Texas summer.

Fog and mist were prominent by morning; they would remain all day, for every section of trail.  I would have no views of mountain peaks, including Rainier itself; sight distance was rarely greater than 100 yards.  The only exception was a brief glimpse of Goat Island Mountain, across the White River, near the end of the hike, and this was only partial.  This disappointed me only for the ascent to Burroughs Mountain; for the remainder, I found that the fog caused me to pay attention to smaller, nearer objects, which I tend to slight.  I became entranced by the small, hardy flowers along the way, and the ethereal silhouettes of trees and rocks.

The trailhead began at the northwest corner of the White River Campground.  I began at 6:20 in the morning.  The trail immediately ascended sharply and continued to ascend at greater and lesser degrees for the four miles to Sunrise, one of the most famous stops in the park.  This section passes through unbroken forest.  All was quiet and still, and I saw no other person until Sunrise, where I met a few backpackers who had stopped for the night at the Sunrise camp.

The trail continued to climb above Sunrise camp to the trailhead up to Burroughs Mountain (actually two modest peaks).  This would be my favorite trail of the day.  The trailhead is already above treeline; a marker notes the alpine, Arctic-like environment along the trail, advising hikers to avoid damaging the fragile plants.

The first mile climbs steeply, along the rocky mountainside.  About one mile in I passed the first snowfield of the hike; it appeared slowly and ghost-like out of the fog.  For three miles the trail (very faint in places), winds to Burroughs peak, through a brilliant diversity of small alpine plants and flowers clinging among the loose rock surface.  The rugged, treeless slopes, fading into the gauzy fog, reminded me strongly of places I’ve seen in Scotland.

From the top of Burroughs Mountain the trail quickly began descending, continuing to do so to the base of the trail to Glacier Basin.  Once back below timberline, the underbrush was thick and lush; through several sections of trail my pants and shoes were soaked from walking through wet fields of low plants (thanks to an evening rain, my shoes didn’t dry out until the next morning and my feet were chilled until I crawled into the sleeping bag that night).  Most of the elevation from the long climb was given through a long series of short, steep switchbacks.  Mid-way through these I came upon a pair of young black-tail deer; I encountered them for 15 minutes: as they moved straight down the mountain I would catch up to them mid-way through the switchbacks.

The .6 mile trail to Glacier Basin was steep and unremarkable.  Glacier Basin is a high point overlooking the InterGlacier Fork of the White River, which rushes through a broad, rugged valley of moraine left by Emmons Glacier, the largest glacier in the lower 48 states.  I continued above the basin for more than half a mile, hoping to reach Mount Ruth, but the fog and rain made navigation difficult  (I saw no trail, so was bushwhacking) and without much merit.

I walked leisurely (a wonderful change of pace!) for the last four miles, a pleasant descent on a wide, clear trail from Glacier Basin to the campground.  With a few hours of daylight left, and this being my last full day in the park, I enjoyed what was the most lush section of any trail I saw during my visit, passing as it does through one of the few temperate rain forests of the world.  The trail crossed at least two dozen streams, many falling through rock and undergrowth carpeted by moss and fern.

For a second consecutive day, I had hiked through some of the most remarkable and rapid transitions in climate and environment – forest to alpine to rain forest – that I have ever experienced.  Over coffee and a hot dinner, I thought fondly back over the day.

Bring it home!  The TX legislature approved plans to repatriate gold bullion (actually owned by the state university endowment, I believe) from the HSBC bank in NYC to a repository in Texas.

http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2015-06-19/there-s-a-pile-of-gold-in-manhattan-texas-wants-it-back-

Why the heck not?  This isn’t a major issue, but the gold could be more advantageous here than in an out-of-state bank.

Only a handful of legislatures – all Democrat, of course – voted against the measure.  One of them gave a reason that made about as much sense – and was more honest – than most reasons Democrats oppose anything.

“Kirk Watson was one of four Democrats in the Senate to go the other way. Why? “Cause it’s weird,” he said.”

Tonight I’ll indulge my grumpy old man impulse…

As I travel, or go out to public places, I am often reminded of my maternal grandfather.  He was a grand and dignified man.  He served in the Navy through both world wars, raised five children on nothing more than the salary of a postal carrier in tiny Stratton, Nebraska, and was kind, generous and strong.  He told long, funny stories, not cheap jokes.  He was gentle with children and animals.

But I think of him these days because of the way he dressed.  Though money was tight, he lived his life without air conditioning, and he spent much of his life outside (he taught me to fish and to catch frogs) he clothed himself like a grown man: white button-down shirt, pressed khaki pants, bow tie, and, when outside, a modest fedora.  Even on casual outings on summer days, he dressed like this, like a man who respected himself.  Below are two photos of him with my brothers and I, on a June afternoon in Texas, in the yard of the house where I grew up.  That was my Popo, handsome and mature.

So when I see grown men dressed in baggy gym shorts, tank tops and flip-flops, in airports and grocery stores, I think of Popo.  They are juveniles with five-o’clock shadows, tacky and sloppy. They cannot hold a candle to my grandfather.  He was a man.  I miss him.  I am glad there is some of him in me.

As a result of the Supreme Court’s decision, those 14 states which forbid gay marriage must now allow it.  I support this, since I want no government to hold the power to tell me or any other citizen who we may or may not marry.

All well and good.  But another 14 states (listed below) refuse to recognize my right, emphasized by a license issued by the state of Texas, to carry a handgun.  The Constitution neither names nor addresses marriage; the right to marry had to be gleaned by the court by intent.  The right to bear arms, however, could not be more explicitly recognized by the Constitution: the second amendment added to it declares that right in the clearest of terms.

From those who supported the court’s decision on gay marriage, I look forward to equally energetic support for the riddance of those laws which deny the right granted to me and all citizens by the Second Amendment.  Unfortunately, the 14 states are largely governed by the left, and I have no faith that those on the left will honor or even recognize such fairness.

In the meantime, I will not comply with the laws of these states, city and territory which deny this right:

California, Connecticut, Hawaii, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Oregon, Puerto Rico, Rhode Island, Washington, District of Columbia.

Though a Christian, with right-leaning political views, I do not oppose gay marriage.  I have given it much thought, but cannot form any opposition that withstands the scrutiny I apply to any other political or social issue.  Namely: does it harm me?  No.  Does it lessen my liberties?  None that I can see.  Does it impose burdens or costs on me?  No, it does not.  I see no actual harm that it does to any citizen, nor can I detect any cost that it lays on any citizen.  Thus, it only works to expand liberty.

These are the most important criteria that I apply to any issue.  They are my touchstones, not the dictates or opinions of any political party, group or creed.  Words or actions that fail these criteria, I will oppose, whether they come from the left or the right.  Words or actions which pass these criteria, I will, at the least, not oppose, thought I may also not lend active support.

Furthermore, I can find no word or deed of Jesus Christ that even implies that we treat homosexuals in any way other than how we treat all others.  Paul may have made such statements, but I am a Christian, not a Paulian.  Christ said that His two most important instructions to us were to love God, and to love others.  He placed no qualifications on either.

Furthermore yet, I would like to see government, at all levels, withdraw itself from all regulation and oversight of marriage.  Government has no business there, and we should oppose its presence in such personal areas of our lives.

My three-legged cat continues to amaze me.  She has learned how to climb to the kitchen island counter, and from there to the top of the aquarium, where she dip a paw into the water.  I’ve grown very fond of this little cat.  Though she’s an adult cat, a friend says she still has the face of a kitten.