Black Lake
Black lake sits in a cirque below McHenrys Peak.
At one point the trail disappears onto an exposed stretch of granite. I continue to walk for few minutes across the rock and come to the other side. The giant slab ends at a steep drop-off. The slope below is thick with trees. I have lost the trail. I backtrack to where I was before but I’m confused, I’ve turned several times and have lost my sight of the trail. When I find it, I am all turned around, which way should I go? I can’t be bothered to dig the map and compass out of my backpack so I just start walking, trying to read the terrain.
After a few minutes, a couple walks past me going in the opposite direction. I recognize them. They were sitting at Black Lake a half hour ago when I left. They should be following behind me, or perhaps ahead of me, anything but walking towards me. I let them pass. I pause for a moment and turn around to follow. I find the stretch of trail that I had missed earlier. I am relieved but wonder if I’m getting giddy from exhaustion and altitude.
Assortment
- Weary of the Wind Chill
- It’s four degrees outside. You can count them on one hand and have a thumb to spare: one, two, three, four. There is a severe lack of temperature happening outside the thin wall of my office.
- Weekend in Cornwall
- We booked a short holiday at a cottage on Porthmear Farm in Pendeen, Cornwall. On the day of our departure, it took us ages to get organized and out the door. We couldn’t decide what to bring and in the end didn’t decide at all.
