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After a overnight close to treeline, you start by rounding a cirque filled with small lakes, then scrambling up a low saddle... low meaning 10,500', or 3200m. While the sun beats down on you, you start thinking about jumping in the lake... then you remember the creek you camped next to last night had a thin sheet of ice in the morning... |
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On the far side of the saddle, you overlook a high plateau of tundra and granite and twisted tiny trees. Then it's down to Peter Pande Lake, which comes into view as you crest a short ridge... |
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The lake looks vaguely unreal, as if someone sculpted the grass and the islands and the water. Heading down, you set up camp for the evening... |
