Today is a wonderful day for my wife Judy. She has a really big show at the San Geronimo Cultural Center… It was 39 years ago this year that this great artist embarked on her first backpacking trip with me as her guide on a 44 mile loop in the Salmon Mt range of the Trinity Alps. Spunky and enthusiastic, she was the mother of 5 children, recently divorced, 45 years old and committed to carrying 45 pounds on an uphill track of 22 miles to the postage stamp lake known as Rock Lake , nestled on the ridge top high above the New River watershed…I had always been a big fan of the Trinity’s. My Bible was Luther Linkharts Guide to the Trinity Alps and his tales of fun and adventure on hundreds of miles of Trinity landscape were magical and compelling…Rock Lake perched on the ridge top reachable after trails that followed good running and thriving streams then veered up and led to the 7200 ft level relatively flat . Stunning views of Shasta and Lassen in the distances showed the volcanic nature of our planet and these peaks were inspiring and majestic in their own right…I had set out a 7 day schedule…7 miles a day, gaining approximately 2500 feet a day would reach our destination on the 3 rd day…We left the New River trailhead near Denny and set out with great swimming in the New River itself and enjoyed 2 days of sunshine and steady but not steep uphill… Judy was shocked at the physicality of backpacking, the pain under load, and the fact we were overloaded with great food and gear myself starting with the ungodly number of 76 pounds…The 3 rd day brought rubber to the road…The climb to the top got steeper, the trail was rocky, and my companion suffered a savage revelation that while she had wanted to love backpacking there were many elements of the process that were downright painful…As we reached the final stages a mile or two from the lake, she took off her pack, sat down and cried, and stated she could not go another step under load…I took this in stride, for she had been such a good sport all along, I agreed to carry her pack leaving mine, then to go back and get it, until everything was ferried up and there before us stood the little gem of a Mountain Lake… Mid August was hot weather in the Trinity’s. The lake had a warm water inversion, where the top 2 feet of water were in the 70s and bathtubby while 6 ft down it was 50 degrees… Brook trout appeared every evening catachable with really any dry fly. Not to mention the solitude , we were all alone there, no form of communication , Swiss Army Knife the primary security, and just plain Trinity Alp splendor at every angle..We soon adapted the wild and natural lifestyle of few clothes, frequent swimming, a little weed, some great food, casual exploring, the gamut of backpacking destination euphoria…And then at midnight on the 2 nd night we had a visitor…Judy remembers being awakened with me shaking her and asking , is the toothpaste put away ., is it hung up.? She had no idea what I was talking about..But in fact now standing 20 feet away from our pristine campsite was a proud and healthy looking 350 pound Black Bear…Red Eyes shinning, blazing really, as he purused our situation, naked, no tent up, 6 ft from where I had cooked the trout by campfire, it was a freightening and lifelong memory experience where no one knows where its leading but the potentially bad outcomes are foremost in your mind…Our food was hung in a tree 100 yards up from the lake on the main trail…My concerns were that we might have something like toothpaste or a candy bar or something the bear wanted that would lead him to get up close and personal…Long experience in the wild told me to talk to him, and I started in Get back Bear, take it easy Bear, whooo Bear, he yawned in a fashion and walked back up the trail to stand under the food hanging tantalizingly from a 12 ft limb…I watched him and saw he was heading toward the lakes outlet and 20 minutes later I saw him in the moonlight walking on logs and going to the other side of the lake…It’s over I confidently assured my quivering companion, he won’t come back…We dropped off to sleep miraculously but sadly an hour later I heard a doe snort, saw she and two fawns moving briskly past our spot, and agonizingly real, there was my buddy again walking straight into our campsite…Judy and I backed up to waters edge, I opened my Swiss Army knife and told her if he attacks, swim out away from him, I’ll follow he really just wants food or sweets or something…He stopped 10 ft from us and I urged him to get out, go away, anything in my deepest voice and after a 10 minute standoff he headed backup to stand under the food bag…All night long, yes I tell you all night long…Back and forth, to and from, our nerves were shot and my camping companion was ready for a hotel room asap…At 5:45 am as he began to come towards us again, I grew frustrated and seeing some 4 inch rocks on the ground decided to return to Woodacre past lives fending off dogs with barrages of rocks…As he got 20 yards away I unleashed and to my surprise he began to dodge and weave, this was a game he’d played before…You dirty bastard, under my breath, I yelled and showered him with rocks into retreating up the trail…By 7:30 we were packed up…Not another moment in this place…Now as we were headed back I noted we didn’t have to just retrace our steps..We could head out towards the Mary Blaine Meadows and complete a loop through other branches of the watershed…Downside, really unused trails and home of off grid pot farms that were sprinkled in the wilderness making visitors unwanted and unwelcome…I convinced her it was I put it together and stuck it up again…Mary Blaine 12 miles northeast, New River down to the right…We walked down through historical mining remains and were camped beside lovely water…Problematic on its face, Bear sign everywhere…I hung the food 2 hundred yards away from our sleeping and we were peaceful through the night…Up early the next day, we continued along streams flowing strongly and my Forrest Service map showed a strong stream entering from the right side and the New River trailhead a mere 4 miles beyond…At 6 that night we stopped to camp and sweetie asked poignantly, honey, are we lost? Your map is in tatters…No we’re not lost , I just don’t know where we are…I was perplexed, we ate some of our last food, and then settled into a tired sleep after 9 hours of trekking, broken when a landslide 500 yards away rumbled down taking out half a dozen trees in the process… Big confidence builder…I awoke aching, downed some aspirin , ate some oat meal and prepared for another long day if that’s what it took…Another day, another dollar…We hefted our now much lighter packs and in ten minutes, saw the raging stream from the right, a hour later swimming at 10:30 in the New River Swimming Hole…At 1:30 heading down the road, destination Eureka…Motel hot water, Steak House and big fat Rib Eyes, Margaritas and Red Wine…Life is good…Judy never really wanted to go backpacking again…I look back now and realize it was just a bit much to impose such a strenuous activity as her first experience…Just grin and Bear it, as it were…Now as we have spent 39 years together, this terrific genius will display her essential greatness as an artist, mother, grandmother, wife, but primarily fearless proponent of commitment to your passion, and her passion for life itself lives in the visual messages she never fails to convey, passion and integrity…