A very nice AM with oatmeal. Walked down from campsite below disappointment peak to the golden staircase, which dropped us off of the high granite benchland the lakes and towering peaks were perched. About 2 miles of steep downhill switchbacks paved with cobble and with 1-2' stairs. Beautiful views of Shakespeare Peak and Devil's Peak off west of the confluence of Palisade Creek and Mid Kings. Nice hike along the deep valley bottom with surging creek and tributaries from mountain heights. Ferns and wild young onions told of a milder, more fertile climate at 9 and then 8000 feet, our lowest and longest stay at this elevation since before Mt. Whitney - a sure sign of our northbound progress. We took lunch next to a roaring waterfall on the river, and lazily spent a couple hours on its bank. A deer sat and chewed its cud as we lunched, completely un afraid. After lunch we proceeded up towards Muir Pass, with the intent on crossing the next morning in case of a long snowfield. We passed along the edge of Grouse Meadow, which was as fine of a meadow I have ever seen. Wide within the constrained canyon and flanked by silver firs on the lateral moraines, the river takes a broad, serpentine course across the floor with broad curves and swift, laminar and clear waters. Trout darted up and downstream, from bank to bank, vying for territory and snatching wayward insects from the surface. On either side were sheer walls dumping the snowmelt from the high canyons. A smaller Yosemite, almost. The afternoon brought dark clouds overhead as we continued the gradual climb north, then west, in the glacial valley. About a mile and a half shy of our planned campsite, the clouds started to bear their fruit and we hastened for a quick camp. A deer (6th of the day, all unafraid) sidled out of a campsite bordered on 3 sides by the river, and we speedily set up the double rainbow with both vestibules porched out. No sooner were we pitched and in the tent did the thunder clap and a brief shower ensued. Nothing torrential, but definitely enough to ruin the rest of one's hiking day had they not been in shelter. The evening, and near-freezing temperatures, were nigh and dragging into camp after dark, cold and hungry, is a miserable state of affairs. Better to get the remaining miles in the clear morning skies. After the shower passed, I cooked a mean pork and mushroom stroganoff while Smiles caught up on her journal. Meanwhile, our local friendly deer browsed all around our campsite, never closer than 30 feet away but never far. The dinner was excellent, and we enjoyed it while watching alpenglow retreat up the western couloirs of 12,800' Mt. Johnson.
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