PHOTO BY JOHN DITTLI
for wilderness rangers is like ending a
love story. Eventually, they all must stop—
bodies give out, partners want company,
401(k)s need contributions. But then what?
Will brief sojourns back into these wilds be
enough? That’s the question Rick wanted
to a nswer on this trip.
Gordon Wallace, one of the park’s earli-
est backcountry rangers, during the 1930s,
had summed up the dilemma by warning
f uture ra ngers, “ Do not come a nd roa m here
unless you are willing to be enslaved by its
charms. Its beauty and peace and harmony
will entrance you. Once it has you in its
power, it will never release you for the rest
of your days.”T
HE NEXT MORNING, we began our
planned ascent, rambling up
the gentle basin, finding grassy
ramps that presented them-
selves like secret passages through a series
of granite benches. The sky was clear, but
we covered the half-mile approach briskly,
fully aware that thunder and lightning were
the afternoon trends. Once we reached
Wales Lake, more than 2,000 feet below Mt.
Morgenson, I was already at the summit
in my mind, where I intended to pull out
the square of folded paper in my pocket
and read aloud a few lines I’d copied from
Randy’s logbooks. We picked our way through the talus and
rubble, contouring as we climbed to a ridge
that led to the summit. It was classic Sierra
scrambling: fun, yet requiring constant
attention to shifting rocks. As the lakes
began to shrink into ponds and then pud-
dles far below, I felt the excitement swelling
in my head—or at least that was how I dis-
counted the f irst wave of dizziness.
A nother few hundred feet of elevation, a nd
the rock beneath my feet swayed, causing me
to reach out and steady myself on a waist-
high chunk of granite. Testing my footing,
I realized it had been that sensation you get
at a red light, when the car next to you creeps
forward and you slam on your brakes, only to
realize you aren’t moving.
A little more altitude and I was no longer
thinking about the summit, but rather con-
templating how I’d get down. We entered a
chute that required a simple class 3 move
and I literally hugged the granite. It was
steep enough now that every time I looked
up to spot the others, a rush of vertigo spun
my vision. W hat’s wrong with you? This isn’t
Everest, it’s easy scrambling. You’ve been
wanting to do this for how many years? And
now you’re here at 13,000 feet—so close, just a
few more pushes and you’re there.
I’d never turned away from a Sierra peak in
my life. But when a single, white cotton-ball
of a cloud drifted in from around the corner
of Mt. Morgenson’s upper shoulder and hung
there, I sta r ted thinking of yesterday ’s a f ter-
noon squall. From blue sky to the first rain-
drops had been perhaps 15 minutes. I made
my decision and called out, “Hey, Rob—
would you think less of me if I just waited
here while you guys push on? My head’s not
feeling right, and I don’t want to slow you all
down, especia lly if we get a storm.”
“Actually,” said Rob, “I’d think more of you.
You’re being rea l ly sma r t. A nd this is the per-
fect place for it.”
We made a plan, and Rob—who was in his
27th year as a wilderness ranger—watched
as I made my way down toward a gravelly
ledge where we would either meet up or I
could better see the eastern slope if their
descent ended up going that direction. Once
I got there, Rob gave me a thumbs-up, and
then climbed up and out of sight to catch up
with the others.
Looking around for a place to recline and
close my eyes, I smelled a distinctly sweet
and delicate scent and found myself in a
garden of strikingly blue polemonium, which
had been Randy’s favorite Sierra f lower. I’d
only happened upon the high-altitude gem aRanger reunion on the summit of Mt. Morgenson
(from left: Rick Sanger, Laura and Rob Pilewski)SPONSORED CONTENTSPONSORED CONTENTTrail by Design
Presents:
Heidi Nisbett
backpacker.com/trailbydesign
@sketchingsummits | sketchingsummits.com
I fi nd inspiration in the patterns
of the natural world and am
fascinated with the rolling nature
of the Appalachian landscape.It is my goal to showcase
the beauty I fi nd in nature
and the importance of immersing
one’s self in it.I want to inspire others to step
outdoors, be it for a walk in the
park or a long distance thru hike,
in hopes of them fi nding the same
fellowship in the wilderness that
I did. It is my intent to spark
a sense of adventure in the viewer,
as well as reassure them that
their goals are in reach.”In 2018 I thru hiked
the Appalachian Trail.
I carried a sketchbook and
watercolors for the duration
of my hike, earning me the
trail name “Picasso.”VOTE FOR HEIDI:
“