In the morning we were immediately treated to the Silver Pass Creek waterfall, a brilliant cascade falling across a series of granite steps right above the trail. The aptly named silvery water flowed directly over the path for about 20 feet, soaking my feet but inspiring sheer joy as the cold spray reflected the bright morning light in a million different directions.
From the creek we made the climb up to Silver Pass itself, where a giant snowfield obscured the path ahead. Lucky for us, previous hikers had blazed a long chain of glissades across the snow and straight down the mountain. Nothing for it, we hitched up our trekking poles and gleefully slid all the way to the small lake at the bottom of the pass, bypassing a solid mile of postholes and half-melted snow.
Arriving at our planned campsite we found most spots already taken, but I managed to set the tent up on top of a granite slab using large rocks for anchors in place of the usual stakes. We spent the evening around a fire with a group of young John Muir Trail hikers and a couple of southbound Danes, who had braved Forester Pass during an intense snowstorm back in May. The group’s energy was infectious, and after more than a week in the wild I was very glad for the company.
Russell on the Road 