We slept hard. A solid sleep after a day of toil and effort is the sweetest thing.

We drank our coffee as the orangy morning light slowly lit up rockpile lake. What a way to start the day! There were four other hikers who had set up around the lake and soon everyone was up and about, rustling gear and shaking out tents. It was fun to be in the middle of the nobo and sobo rush. We were seeing plenty of folks headed in both directions, and it was a bit sad that we had to dip out so soon and leave the through-line.

The hiking was glorious! Nemo said this is what she had been dreaming about. Scrubby little lupine carpeted the ground with bright red paintbrush and yellow and white flowers joining in the medley.

Simply stunning.

Mt. Jefferson played peekaboo with us as we climbed and descended ridges, and as the mountain got closer, so did our excitement and trepidation. The big burn of the last few years loomed ahead and had torched the last 13 miles of our hike into Breitenbush Lake and the magical Jefferson Park. What would it look like a few years later? I had been to Jefferson Park several times and knew what it used to look like, what would this trip bring?

We were full-body old lady achy today, so wanted to have a shorter day. Camping was in short supply though, and if we hiked too far we would be in the burn and suboptimal camp spots.

We hopped across Milk Creek, not as milky as you might expect, and reluctantly started climbing the grade ahead. I had been hoping for some good camping at the creek, but it hadn’t panned out.

I kept my eye open. Sometimes there is a little spot flat enough for a tent or two hidden in these long climbs and descents, and after about a mile I spotted it! Just the right size for me and Nemo and our afternoon repose.

We luxuriate in the light breeze and bit of a view we had through the swaying trees. Quite sublime.