Day 3 started with some coffee at our campsite while we waited for those around us to stir before packing up our stuff – the net result of that delay, however, was that we were not remotely ready to go before they blew the 7am conch shell summoning HSC guests to coffee, nor were we ready when they blew it again at 7:30 for breakfast. Like for the previous night’s dinner, we had high expectations for the camps’ legendary breakfasts – we were not disappointed in the least. The coffee was strong, there was oatmeal at the door, and the long tables were filled with plates of eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes within minutes of our entry. The camp guests are typically a myriad group – some, like us, hike the whole HSC loop (most in the same direction as us), but others have highly variable itineraries, some spending a couple of nights at a given camp, or perhaps choosing a smaller loop of two or three camps successively. There was one guy at our table for dinner who was attempting to hike the entire 50-mile loop in 48 hours – he was intending to hike all night after eating with us (at Sunrise, we would breakfast with folks who had done the same with him the morning before, so we know he made it at least that far). We had by this time met some of the cohort with which we were now associated, 10-15 people whose itinerary matched our own, including four very young, mostly-retired ladies in their 60s whom we collectively and affectionately labeled The Sisterhood – Mary, Mary, Ruth, and Jennifer all hail from the Puget Sound area in Washington State and were an absolute treat to get to know. We had spoken with some of them at dinner about what to expect from today’s hike. We would walk some 3-1/2 miles south from May Lake, dropping into the Tenaya Lake area before ascending steeply for 2-1/2 more miles to a junction with an alternate trail running west to Cloud’s Rest – from there, we’d head east up and through a basin containing the three Sunrise Lakes, then further up and over a 9,800′ pass before descending into Sunrise HSC, only 40′ lower in elevation than our present location at May Lake (that 40′ net loss would involve a combined 4,753′ of elevation change, by far the hardest day of the trip – but we didn’t know that yet). All this said, we were eager to hit the trail directly after breakfast – that is, until we checked the InReach communicator and found a text from the kids sent the night before about the Blue Cut fire near Wrightwood. Still largely uncontrolled at the time, all we knew was that the fire was nearing the community which had undergone a mandatory evacuation the previous afternoon. So, it was quite fortunate that we could get cell service here, and we spent about 45 minutes calling home to get details and updates before heading out (ultimately, we were glad to be preoccupied with the trip, since there was nothing we could have done had we been home anyway) – we did continue to get updates on the InReach throughout the rest of the week. Real life having been thus addressed, we resumed our departure, walking easily down the May Lake trail for a little over a mile to its trailhead directly south of the camp. Passing quickly through the full parking area, we found a large group of hikers at the Tenaya Lake trailhead, apparently being briefed by a guide – why she chose to have her group take instructions while wholly blocking the path as opposed to gathering in the open parking area we have no idea, but we lithely slipped through the knot of people without comment and were on our way again. The May Lake HSC is equipped with a landline telephone, and the trail we were now following was evidently the road along which the telephone cable was originally run – paved at one time, the wide road bed has since deteriorated into a rocky, jumbled track, next to which the phone cable can often be seen exposed on the surface. This was for us the worst trail section of the whole trip – dusty, loose, rocky, and open to the heat was not a good combination, but, honestly, maybe it was our mood, given the news from Wrightwood. Still, we made good time on the descent, reaching the meadows near Tenaya Lake within 1-1/2 hours after literally dodging motor homes while crossing the Tioga Road. There are multiple tracks through this meadow area – we followed our trusty Tom Harrison map in zigzagging east, then west, then east again before reaching the sole single track heading southward out of Tenaya Canyon. Here, we came across a doe with twin fawns grazing – we couldn’t get close enough for a good picture, and they wandered off deeper into the forest. Surprisingly, we ran into them again about 1/4-mile further up the trail, this time getting close enough to snap a couple of decent photos. Leaving the deer behind, we began a rolling approach to the ridgelines now towering above us to the south. Soon, the gradient steepened significantly, and we began our slow climb up the ridge, switching back frequently up the high-angle slope. We came to appreciate the cobbled ramps we first encountered near Glen Aulin – these maintain one’s ascent/descent at something resembling a constant gradient and are quite comfortable to walk on. None of those here, however – all we had were a seemingly endless series of stairs, some of them close to 18″ tall. In contrast to the ramps, these stairs are much more taxing on the quads when ascending and on the knees when descending – we were exhausted before we were halfway up the ridge. We kept calm and carried on, although there were a few moments where Jane gave Chris the look that said, “Tell me again why the hell you brought me out here?” It was not the best of days, but eventually we did reach the top of the ridge – Chris wandered westward a short distance to snap a picture of Half Dome, returning to find Jane ready for the last 2-1/2 miles to Sunrise. Maybe it was the zigzag route through the meadows, but our GPS now read 7 miles instead of the expected 6 – though footsore (or perhaps quad-sore), off we went eastward up the trail. It’s amazing how much information one can glean from Google Earth, and it’s equally amazing how much one can miss – despite several studies of this part of the route, we did not expect to encounter the more-or-less continuous climb from the trail junction to the top of the pass above Sunrise. Of course, it’s all there on the map, and simply counting contour lines crossed should be enough for anyone to figure out gain and loss over a given distance – in any event, and apart from a brief descent from a bump east of the Cloud’s Rest trail, we found ourselves climbing relentlessly past all three Sunrise Lakes, our trail keeping well south and uphill from the second but passing adjacent to the first and third. There were swimmers at Lake #1 – it appears to be the most popular as it’s the closest to the trailhead at Tenaya Lake. Jane was eager to find a place for a foot soak (since we didn’t expect to find any creek water at Sunrise), but, now with the opportunity, we made the joint decision to forge ahead, needing to get the mileage over with rather than linger. So, up and over the pass we went, unimpressed when we gained the sandy and nondescript saddle at the top. We met some guys ascending the pass on the other side – they looked tired, and, again, we were taken aback by the relative steepness of the trail that looked so benign on the topo. As we descended the south side of the pass, we started to see traces of the meadow magic for which the Sunrise area is famous (Chris camped here for one night with a high school youth group in 1979, and all he can recall is the combination of beautiful meadows and giant swarms of mosquitos) – these high country meadows are truly wondrous, very open and greener than the ones at Tuolumne, being a bit higher. Without fanfare, we suddenly found ourselves entering the backpackers’ campground – it took a bit of exploration, but we settled on a small tent site in some rocks with an awesome meadow view, although a bit distant from the composting toilets (no flushers here as at May Lake) and the potable water tap (another unexpected feature of the camps, that made lugging around a 1 lb. water filter unnecessary). After setting up our camp, we checked in with the HSC manager – it was salmon night, to which Chris is deathly allergic, and the advance arrangements we thought had been squared away at May Lake were in fact not. Chris would have to fare with a vegetarian plate that night (although, in the end, the chef made him a chicken dish identical to the salmon-in-garlic-polenta she made for the other guests, which was delicious). Showers were available here, also, but they were not offered to us and we didn’t ask – we did, however, rinse ourselves and some of our clothing with CampSuds and cold water using the 5 oz. portable shower we’d brought along. The moon rose very full and bright after dinner – all night long, it was like a spotlight was shining over our tent. At 9.5 miles, this was our toughest day yet, so much so that Jane gave away her remaining wine to some neighboring backpackers to save some weight – though feeling stronger after three days of hiking, we knew the next two promised to be even more taxing.