We often watch sunsets at the end of a busy or restful day, some people make it almost a ritual, watching a sunset from the same place every day. But the dawn is different, not so often viewed, we are usually too busy getting ready for the day ahead or perhaps sleeping off remnants of the previous night’s revelries.
It is cold, not quite dark, but not light either, it is that in between stage we rarely witness before the dawn explodes. I make a conscious decision not to roll over and close my eyes. For some reason I cannot explain I want to view the first and last rays of this day.
In the semi-darkness I stretch, then reach for my pants and shirt now heavy with the scent and dirt of days on the trail. Only recently in human history do many bath and put on clean clothes every day and it is at first strange to wear the same clothes every day for days on end, but I have quickly become accustomed to it, for I have no choice. Fresh clothes are heavy and they take up precious space in my pack, two things always on the mind of a backpacker.
My clothes are cold and a bit stiff from the cold, but as I move they warm and remold to my body. I pull on my boots, leave them unlaced and crawl out of my tent on my hands and knees and look up the creek at the weak light now beginning to shimmer on the wet rocks.
It will be a few minutes before the sun makes an appearance so I pull the items I need from my tent to begin the day. I retrieve my bear can from the rocks where it has spent the night, pour some water into my little pot, light the stove and lay out my meager breakfast on the rocks. I rub my hands together, blow in them to warm up, lace my boots and walk around my campsite to get my blood flowing. The water begins boiling and I make my oatmeal, mix my hot apple drink and open a Cliff bar. My simple morning routine is well under way.
And then the light show begins.
The sky is perfectly clear, no clouds to be seen and it beginning to brighten and change color as the sun approaches. I look directly up the creek and realize that the alignment is perfect, the sun is going to rise directly in front of me as I look east at the rocks, one very large one and a myriad number of mid-sized and small ones that make up the creek bed.
Like a spotlight suddenly it is there, an incredibly bright orange red and yellow ball rising over the horizon piercing the distant pine trees. It is still cold as I sip my hot drink and stare at a simple, but incredibly beautiful sunrise, a harbinger of a great day ahead, warm and bathed in the special light of the High Sierra.
Marie Lakes Trail Junction - JMT