Castle Lake
We had a beautiful snowshoe hike of the backcountry behind Castle Lake. The sun has finally decided to grace us with its presence. We were in shirt sleeves and thought maybe we should be in shorts as well.
The snow pack this year is impressive. The lake is frozen solid and covered by deep snow still.The mountain ridges are peaked with giant cornices and the sun is starting to bring down avalanches into the gullies. From the ridge line, the views of the mountain and the surrounding hills was magnificient.
We saw lone Bear paw prints as big as my head zig-zagging around the snowfields. At one point I mentioned it would be so cool to see a Bear (off in the distance, of course) ambling about. A few minutes later, Nancy said something which I could only hear one word of , “BEAR” and saw her pointing into the distance. My heart immediately started pounding and I frantically called, “BEAR! WHERE?” my head swiviling around. I guess the reality of seeing a Spring thaw-hungry and potentially mauling exhibit of nature in real life was a bit less romantic than my fantasy. Nancy, after all, was only pointing out more bear tracks.

Our descent in the mushy snow was a challenge and in one area I started sliding down a step slope. Ending up on my rear (cotton clad in my optimism-sigh) I started sliding in the snow. Finding I couldn’t stop I settled in for a fast descent. Nikita, loyal girl, followed me straight down. Linda and Nancy, not wanting to be left out of the fun, followed on their more appropriately clothed rears.
I am lugging Webster’s Dictionary and Bartlett’s Quotations for weight training and thought I’d put them to good use each time I blog:Webster’s Contribution: did you know that the word cornice’s origin is with the Latin word Crow and Greek word Raven? I wonder if that is because a cornice is perched above, the way a bird will sit, and a raven/crow has an ominous feeling, like it will fall down upon you.
Bartlett’s Contribution: "In some of those dense fir and spruce woods there is hardly room for the smoke to go up. The trees are a standing night, and every fir and spruce which you fell is a plume plucked from night’s raven wing.-Henry David Thoreau

