Day 2 of our Ritter Range adventures didn’t really have a firm plan. Chris for sure wanted to hike up to Iceberg Lake, so named for the perpetual ice that floats on its surface year round, but, other than that, no one had any preconceptions for how to spend our time this day. We had a leisurely morning in camp, enjoying some coffee and a light breakfast, but we soon became eager to get out and explore. Packing lightly, we headed out about 9:40am – we quickly covered the 1/4-mile eastward to the Iceberg Lake trail, where we turned south and started up. Iceberg Lake lies in a higher cirque directly south of Ediza, about a mile away on this trail with a 500′ gain – although we had heard previously that this trail is no longer maintained by the USFS, it apparently gets enough traffic and care to be in great condition. The route had its moments of steepness, but each was offset by a subsequent gentle section that made the climb quite comfortable, especially so under a lighter load than yesterday. Despite the full sun overhead, we made most of the ascent still in the shadow of Volcanic Ridge, so we didn’t feel much in the way of heat. Nearing the top of the grade, Chris noticed a sizable waterfall across the valley along the stream a short distance above our camp, and an idea started forming in his mind about where to explore after our visit to the frozen lake ahead. We gained over 400′ in the first half mile of the Iceberg Lake trail, getting the balance of our elevation gain as we gently made our way through a lovely alpine meadow and up to the northern shoreline of the lake. Iceberg Lake was, simply put, unbelievably beautiful – Clyde Minaret, the highest of the group, seemed to rise directly from the back of the lake, towering above the permanent ice field that extended down the steep slope to the water’s edge. Two large ice sheets covered maybe 10% of the lake’s surface, and we could hear the ice cracking every few minutes as we took in the scene. We knew Cecile Lake lay just atop the headwall at the east edge of Iceberg, and we could see the use trail cutting across the precipitous face, but none of us wanted to try and extend our hike in that direction without traction devices on our boots. After an extended break, we turned to go, right away looking for a place to cross Iceberg Lake’s outlet creek and traverse cross country around the northern end of the ridge to the west – Chris’ idea was to make our way across or around the ridge without losing much in the way of elevation, then head west, north, and east in a broad arc through the expansive glacial bowl above Ediza Lake, visiting not only the waterfall above our camp but also the alpine meadows below another tall cascade at the head of the valley. We crossed the creek without difficulty and immediately discovered a use trail on the west side of the creek – this we followed northward until it petered out in what appeared to be the rocky end of the ridge. As we made our way onto the rocks, we realized there was a second, higher ridge to the west, so we crossed a grassy vale and scrambled up a shallow gully and gained the top. The view into the basin to the west was remarkable – grassy fields carpeted the flats below the cliffs to the south, Mt. Ritter and Banner Peak dominated the skyline to the west over the basin’s extension in that direction, and Ediza Lake lay to the north below as an emerald jewel amid the various green hues of the grass and grey of the granite. We found that the west side of the ridge was pretty steep, and our exit down it would require some care. Far to the left, Chris found a rocky chute with a high angle rock face he could negotiate below, while Carter and Pedro used a network of narrow ramps further right to make their descent – once past the immediate challenges, we reconvened on a wide ledge, from which we picked our way down the slope, off the rocks and onto a still-steep hillside covered in tall grass. We began to envision our grand traverse, picking out a route that would take us across the bowl without too much gain or loss. As we made our way through the meadows, we crossed numerous streams, all still running full of meltwater from the snow fields above – pretty amazing for September, we thought. Chris and Carter scrambled up a large formation in the center of the bowl, while Pedro took a longer arc deeper into the valley, but we reunited as we continued traversing northward and into the forested western edge of the cirque. The shade of the trees was most welcome, and we picked our way through, losing a bit of elevation in the process – we spooked a doe and her fawn, and they disappeared northward before we could get a photo. Not much later, we heard the sound of rushing water, emerging from the forest exactly at the base of the targeted waterfall – Chris was quite proud of his route finding skills. That didn’t last long, however – after a long-ish lunch break and a head dunk in the falling water, Carter had scrambled up and crossed the creek somewhere upstream, leaving Pedro and Chris to figure out a crossing on their own. Pedro quickly decided to push further downstream to find his way, but Chris was determined to cross closer to the fall – in the end, he was defeated, and, after soaking a boot during multiple attempts, he followed Pedro’s lead and found a manageable crossing downstream. Once on the north side of the creek, we found a well-defined use trail which we followed eastward back to camp – this is apparently the route used by climbers on their way to Mt. Ritter. Back in camp by 1:45pm, we spent the rest of the afternoon watching Carter fish the west side of the lake while Pedro made us cold by fully immersing himself in the chilly water – dinner was Jane’s backcountry concoction of Velveeta mac ‘n’ cheese laced with real bacon bits, a delicacy indeed. Tomorrow’s day would be big, so an early bedtime again save for Carter, who stayed up to check out the Milky Way and the rest of the starry light show overhead…