About ten years ago I was sitting in the doctor's office waiting my turn. As I gazed around the waiting room my eyes landed upon a photograph on the wall of White Pine Lake in the Wasatch Mountains. It was a black and white image of an alpine lake set among rugged mountain peaks. I'd heard of White Pine Lake, but in all my years of living along the Wasatch Front, I had never explored the hiking trails in Little Cottonwood Canyon. When I was young I sometimes skied Alta and Snowbird. That was pretty much the extent of my visits to that area. That day in the doctor's office, I determined White Pine Lake would be on my bucket list. The time to check it off the list didn't arrive until two weeks ago when my daughter challenged us to an evening hike. Sarah is my second child and is very adventurous and outdoorsy. She and Matt, her husband, spend their lives in great adventures guiding up mountains and exploring slot canyons. I admire the freedom they enjoy on their many wilderness treks. At the time of this writing they are living in Springdale, Ut, just outside Zion National Park where Matt works as a guide in the slot canyons. They live in their modified van and can be found on social media at @thebuslife and simplymountainpeople.com.

So, on a warm summer evening we drove up Little Cottonwood Canyon, parked our car at the trailhead, shouldered our knapsacks (me, my camera backpack), and headed up an old jeep mining road. It was a tough hike to be sure. We climbed steadily for five miles gaining 2,600 feet in elevation. The lake sits at an elevation of about 10,000 feet. Looking at it on a topo map this morning I see that it is only about a mile, as the crow flies, across a ridge-line from Silver Glance Lake that I blogged about several weeks back. Silver Glance Lake is accessed via American Fork Canyon.

We had a heavy snowfall last winter and consequently the snowpack was slow in melting back and releasing the upper meadows from the grip of winter. I was pleasantly surprised at the great abundance of wildflowers so late in the season. We reached the lake not more than 30 minutes before sunset. White Pine Lake sits in a granite bowl at tree line. The water is an intense shade of turquoise blue. We had the lake all to ourselves except for a young Colorado man who drove across the mountains just to do this hike and camp on the shores of this lake.

Since we were not prepared to spend the night, we quickly captured our beauty shots of the lake and ate our dinners while we rested from the strenuous climb. Our hike back to the car was mostly under the cover of night, our trail illuminated by the lights of our cell phones. Hiking downhill is often harder on my back than going up. About 1 1/2 miles from the car I hit the point where I was sure I had a knife protruding from my lower left back. As the pain intensified I became keenly aware that my camera backpack and me were not going to finish this hike together. Gratefully, Sarah volunteered to help me out and be my Sherpa for the remainder of the hike. That is a turning point in my photography/hiking career. Never have I asked for help in carrying my burden. That alone causes me great concern and now I face the consequences of my hiking as I enter the golden years of life. Thanks Sarah, for helping your old man out.