It was the summer of 1972. I was camped with my brother and two friends at Marie Lake north of Selden Pass on the John Muir Trail. The day was warm and I set out to climb the Seven Gables. No one else wanted to go, so I was on my own. I had nothing but the shorts and turtleneck shirt I was wearing with a pair of old fashioned hiking boots. Seven Gables is a 13,000 ft elevation peak. We were camped at 10,300 ft. elevation.

As I began my hike around the lake to approach Seven Gables, I was feeling the anticipation of a clear day and an exhilarating ascent. I had to make my way to the end of the lake and drop down about 5oo feet into Sandpiper Lake to reach the base of Seven Gables.

My climb was beautiful, but uneventful. I finally reached the summit and revelled in the view. Silver Pass lay to the north up Bear Creek. Mt. Hooper was west of me and to the south and east lay chains of peaks into the distance. I felt like I could see clear south to Mt. Whitney in the far distance, though I knew this was fantasy. After a long rest and snack, I began my descent, making excellent time. For me in those days, most of the reason to climb was to come back down. I called it summer skiing or

rock hopping. Looking back, I suppose I should be grateful I never broke a leg, or worse, but my enthusiasm was unstoppable.

When I reached Sandpiper lake again and began my ascent up the ridge that held Marie Lake behind it, the day seemed full of energy. The water was clear and cold, the air brisk, the sun warm and it was all contagious. I didn’t realize how far the sun had travelled and I decided to climb the ridge behind my camp site to top the day off. That ridge rose to 11,400 feet, a good 1,000 feet above my camp. When I reached the top, I looked down into camp and could see that my friends had already started a camp fire. I then realized that the sun was preparing to set behind Mt. Hooper and shadow was crawling across Marie Lake.

I looked further up the ridge and saw that it rose further into high peaks behind the lake and above Selden Pass. I could not go that way. I could also not get back down the ridge to the far end of the lake before dark. I had misjudged my time and saw now that I had a serious problem. The only way I would reach camp before dark was down the side of the ridge, which from where I stood seemed a veritable cliff. Without pausing long enough to think myself out of it, I dropped over the edge and began my descent.

This was not exactly rope work, especially since I didn’t have one (or anything else), but there were ledges, drop offs and finger hangs. A miscalculation would have resulted in a serious, if not fatal fall. I hung from White Pine scrub trees to drop onto one foot ledges. I had to jump across cracks to land on sloped granite and scramble down loose rock scree that began to slide with me. I didn’t stop until I walked off onto the first relatively level ground at the base of the cliff. It took me over an hour and was nearly dark, but I was only a short distance now from my camp. My brother and my friends had started to think I had been hurt and were very worried when I finally walked into camp, but I never felt so alive in my life.