We again woke up pretty early, and we took advantage of our isolated camp site to start packing things up soon thereafter – so much for the best laid plans. As the sky started to brighten, we got up on some rocks above our home away from home for a clearer view of the meadow, expecting the sun to crest the shoulder of the dome to the east at any moment. Well, that process took nearly an hour from when we started watching it, leaving us about 30 minutes to pack up the balance of the camp before the breakfast call. It didn’t happen – we resigned ourselves to finishing our packing after breakfast, and we tromped our way up to the dining tent by about 7:15 to feast like kings. The latest fire news included a report that the flames had reached the easternmost end of the Wrightwood development, and at one point we got a report that a street near ours had burned – that turned out to be incorrect, thankfully, but we did in fact confirm that the flames had been stopped at the east edge of town. Our breakfast companions included a family from the San Diego area who were going to be hiking up the JMT and out to Tuolumne Meadows that day, and they offered to text the kids for us with a live report as they headed through Cajon Pass on their way home (which they in fact did). We ate a bit more lightly than we had at May Lake, mostly to get done earlier but also because we had a lot of ground to cover today. In our day-by-day plan, this was always going to be the longest single leg of the trip – we’d start at 9,300+’, head north on the JMT for about a mile, then east over a 200′-high ridge before dropping into Cathedral Fork canyon and losing over 2,500′ as we’d descend to the Merced River valley some 7+ miles distant. We’d head east up the river at that point, gaining another 250′ over two miles to the Merced Lake HSC – at 10+ miles total, it figured to be a long day. So, we hastily finished packing and left Sunrise by just after 9am, walking briskly (well, as briskly as our sore bodies would allow, which wasn’t really very brisk) east and then north on one of two single-mile segments of the John Muir Trail our route would share (the second would be in Lyell Canyon on our last day). The meadow was beautiful in the sunny-mid-morning and the level walking very easy – just what we needed after yesterday’s brutal climbing. That ended far too soon, for we quickly reached our turnoff and headed east, right away beginning to ascend the ridge separating Long Meadow from the Cathedral Fork drainage. The hike up the incline was cool and pretty, shadows and light comingling on the trail – although we paused a couple of times to rest, this segment was quite enjoyable. Once over the top, things got way more sunny and increasingly warm – the heat may well have been on the oppressive side were it not for a fairly steady breeze that blew up the valley all day long to cool us off. We’ve long considered downhills to be, in general, more difficult than uphills, and even more so under full loads. Having learned our lesson on water management on the way to May Lake (we had both run out of water within a 1/2-mile finishing that day), we both carried our full 3-liter complement today (about 6-1/2 lbs. each to start), and our steps weighed heavily on the trail as soon as we crested the ridge and entered Cathedral Fork canyon. It’s not that the gradient was too steep, for it’s quite gentle most places – however, seven miles of steady descent wears on the feet, always bearing not just the body’s weight but the forces of gravity and forward momentum. About halfway down the canyon, we would reach the first of three bridges across the Cathedral Fork of Echo Creek – our idea was to stop for 30 minutes at the first bridge and soak our feet while eating a snack, then doing the same at the last bridge at the end of the descent where we’d eat lunch, thus being rested for the gentle but continuous push eastward to Merced Lake. As we walked through the canyon, we noticed a high, thin dome on the canyon’s west wall that was unnamed on the map – we later decided to name such features for our grandsons, so that promontory has since been christened Jude’s Dome (maybe he’ll climb it someday). Passing below it, we dropped more sharply into a flat, wooded section that was immediately followed by a burn – the stark tree trunks were a somewhat somber reminder of the situation in Wrightwood (we had been talking about how, if indeed our cabin burned, we’d only be out our vacation/retirement home, but what about the 5,000 people who live there fulltime? – deep, sobering thoughts). We found our first bridge shortly after the burned area, but there was not very much water here – Jane proposed continuing to the next one, which we did. However, once we got there, we were kind of in the same “let’s get this hike over with” mode and, despite the burning sensations in all four of our feet, we decided to keep going to the third, especially since there was more water here. We had by this time lost enough elevation that the forest had changed dramatically – gone were the lodgepoles and tundra-like grasses of the high country, replaced by chinquapin, manzanita, and ponderosa pines. The ponderosas, in particular, were quite impressive, very tall and with massive bases. Past the second bridge, the descent eases a bit through a traverse west to a junction with a connector trail leading further west to the JMT – we would turn south here, losing another 500′ before reaching the Merced River in the valley below. That section, in fact, was about as bad as we had expected – another steep series of stair-stepped switchbacks, and our feet felt twice as bad by the time we hit the bottom of the grade. There in front of us was the third bridge, but there was not a drop of water in sight – crazy. We stopped here anyway and ate our lunch (which, by the way, were made to order each morning by the HSC staff – we had purchased ours in advance, but hikers can also pay cash on the spot, camp supplies allowing). It was here at the bridge that we had a long talk about even continuing the trip. There had been several moments of frustration on our way down the canyon in which we both felt like we had bitten off more than we could chew, and Jane’s chronic foot problems (plantar fasciitis and neuromas) were really bothering her. At this point, we were 11 miles east of Yosemite Valley, and we had enough food to get us there within two days, where we could catch a shuttle up to Tuolumne to retrieve our car (Chris thought we could even be there the next day if we pushed it). Continuing up to Merced Lake would put us two more miles from the Valley, as well as a full two days from Tuolumne with 3,000′ of elevation gain in between – once at Merced Lake, bailing would no longer be a viable option. Of course, and as if there was ever any serious doubt, we turned east and crossed the bridge, damning the torpedoes and going full speed ahead (more like limping at full speed, but you get the idea). We made our way through some meadows and across a couple more bridges before reaching the short climb we knew was coming – it wasn’t so bad, and we found ourselves at the river’s edge not long thereafter. We followed the river east, finding Merced Lake’s outlet a few hundred yards upstream and began walking on level ground hugging the north shore of the lake – we passed the largest ponderosa pine either of us has ever seen before entering a pretty stand of aspens just outside the HSC. We found a fairly secluded campsite (which was fortunate, since later arrivals ended up pitching their tents close together in a central clearing while our little enclave remained undisturbed), then checked in with the camp host. Established in 1916, Merced Lake is one of three original High Sierra Camps, and the only one of those still in operation at its original location – here we again were offered hot showers (angels singing) as well as access to the camp’s laundry area (angels singing again), and we took full advantage of both. Dinner was pulled pork sliders with cole slaw that was out of this world, and we made the acquaintance of a young couple from Oakland, Len and Vivian, with whom we’d leapfrogged on the trail the past two days (Jane right away nicknamed them The Honeymooners) – it was fun to compare trail notes and experiences, and to share our mutual trepidation about the next day’s long climb up to Vogelsang (everyone expected it to be worse than the Sunrise hike). Wanting to get back to camp and prepare for an early departure in the morning, we again were back in our bags shortly after sundown. A long and trying day to be sure, but the beautiful destination and camaraderie revived our spirits in anticipation of another full day tomorrow.