Rig and I had to play hooky from school for a Friday morning departure.
I got us lost and had to go into "Lippy's Country Store" for directions. Who would have guessed Lippy was an asian man who didn't speak any English. Only in California. When I asked for directions to Fish Creek, all he could do was try to sell me night-crawlers.
My hiking buddies.
The word stoked is an understatement for Rigdon on these types of outings. He doesn't even complain when I quiz him on his times tables.
The first day saw about 6 miles, 2000 feet of elevation and plenty of epic scenery.
Rig is following in Uncle Bram's footsteps and is yet to complain about a single meal while backpacking.
Rig said his favorite part of the trip was being at camp. We had a beautiful spot at just under 10,000 ft.
We were all a little shocked at how fast it went from sunny and warm to bitter cold. Thank goodness I brought the tent for Rig's sake. I almost decided we didn't need it.
Day 2, five miles and 1500 ft to go.
There was a plane crash that literally straddled the trail.
Rigdon searched for bones of the 13 killed in the wreckage. Luckily he didn't find any.
Finally getting above the tree line.
Rig took the summit first. It was a very clear day and we had the peak all to ourselves for about 45 minutes. The view was awesome.
Holy Crap! I couldn't figure out how to set the timer on my camera and had to try to take a picture of us on the summit just by holding the camera out. After multiple tries with this as our best result, I was convinced we were the two least photogenic people to ever climb San Gorgonio.
Luckily another hiker finally showed up and took a picture at a distance that masked our lack of photogenics.
When we were hiking with Steve this is all we ever saw of him. He gave us a lesson in setting pace.
Even at the end of the hike Rig had the energy to run and jump off of any rock on the trail that tempted him.
Rigdon didn't have to be asked to smile for one single picture. He was smiling from ear to ear the whole two days.