YOSEMITE-II BACKCOUNTRY TRAIL CREW
JUNE 2008 MONTHLY OVERVIEW
Mike Asprey, BACKCOUNTRY TRAILS SUPERVISOR

As the month of June 2008 slips away in all but memory, the Yosemite- II crew calls a rickety bunkhouse near the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir our home. It is the place where, as infant trailworkers, we first experienced the heft of shovel, rake, and lopper, and have since shed our swaddling clothes in the adolescence of our season. Now we wear furry coats of hair, a film of forest residue caking our skin, our muscles stringy and hardened in the sun like slabs of granite.
The beginning of June found us in Miguel Meadows. Up from the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, switchbacks snake up over the granite wall and the trail rambles east to Miguel Meadows.
In Miguel Meadows, the spirit of John Muir sat over our camp like a wizened veil of fog. He beamed over us like a proud grandfather, showing us the secrets of his forest. And when the evening sun angles through the clouds over the meadows we can almost see his gleaming eyes like glowing knots of a tree, and his wizened smile beaming through that whorled beard of his.
We now know that the granite slowly carves at our bodies, wearing skin away and ripping at bundles of muscle and tendon, trying to lower us down to the dirt. The mountains try to shake us off to stand in peace without veins of trail cut into their faces. We use our increasing knowledge and admiration of the mountains to experience the soul shaking silence of towering granite monuments, bluest deep lakes, and bright green meadows like monasteries.
Our sponsors have helped us along in our day to day work and understanding of the mountains. Brady Kirwin  (Kings Canyon ’04) is a Backcountry alumni whose intensity can only be compared to our Governor, Arnold Schwartzeneger. Brady has taught us that the grade is not a mountain day care facility. Felipe Sanchez (Yosemite-II ’06) has been a hardworking and patient sponsor, showing us how to dominate rocks with the power and ferocity of a dinosaur.
We had our first spike of the season, a one night camp out at Laurel Lake. We worked the trails around the lake until they looked like unrolled brown carpets, tourists probably puzzling over whether to remove their boots before hiking.
Two June events that took place were the Meatfest and Adampalooza. Meatfest 2008 became an impromptu celebration of the slaughterhouse, as one Sunday afternoon, our massive surplus of meat was set out to thaw. After a weekend of eating meager backpacking food, we returned to piles of meat smoking and snapping over the fire. The author has never witnessed such a feast, as one reveler was seen hoarding meat in his cheeks like a carnivorous rodent while piling ribs onto his plate. This celebration was not for the weak of stomach, nor faint of small intestine.
Adampalooza was our planned monthly event. It was not a summer festival of free love and rock and roll. This event celebrated the diversity of physical abilities and the importance of competing and winning at all cost. It was a badminton tournament in which all contestants showed that qualities such as sportsmanship and grace are really weaknesses in backcountry games. The referees were glad to escape as the event wound down and the sugar thinned out in the hot blood of our contestants. There were no injuries during the event, so we called it a success.
A few animals became known to us at Miguel Meadows. A big beautiful bear was spotted in the meadows, but luckily never showed up in camp to eat our food. Our first day setting up camp, Tony almost stepped on a large rattlesnake near our kitchen, but it rattled, hissed, and slid off without striking. Our most trying animal experiences were Ol’Greg. In his adolescent frustration, Greg stamped and snorted around the periphery of camp, frightening crewmembers with his territorial teen angst. Ol’ Greg might claim that nobody understands him and that the doe all make fun of his under developed antlers, but Maury Povich would send him off to deer boot camp like the other whiners on his show.
We have a few musicians on the crew, which makes camp more lively. Tony plays the ocarina and harmonica, Adan plays the drum, Wes plays the banjo, and Brady plays the guitar. There has not been collaboration yet, but each musician has a distinct style and a captive audience to play for.
The favorite camping spot for weekend trips was Lake Eleanor. A short hike downhill from Miguel Meadows took us to the Eleanor Ranger Station where we borrowed two large canoes. With these, we explored the shores of the lake, observing the falls and rivers feeding into it. The islands dotting the lake and the warming water temperature gave us a lot of exploring and swimming to do. The lake is a great place to relax on granite cushions baking in the sun, and mild blue water perfect for swimming.
Our cook at Miguel Meadows, “Uncle” Steve Borge, was drafted by FEMA in late June. His pancake swill be missed, but might better serve large flood-displaced families in need of massive breakfast breads.
Our cook until the end of the season is Jenna Heywood (Yosemite-I ’05), a backcountry alumni and former trailworker. Jenna knows what fuels we need to keep us going and provides them in delicious and innovative ways.