Like on Saturday, we awoke to a cool and shady morning, and we ate our sumptuous breakfast looking west over the Horse Corral Creek drainage, spying on the far ridge the lone sequoia one can see from the camp. We had lost some sleep during the night due to some rustling sounds Jane thought to be coming from outside our tent – Chris awakened at one point asking what in the world Jane was doing, thinking she was looking for something in the dark and not appreciating her lack of stealth in doing so. After Jane retorted (okay, responded) that it wasn’t her, Chris turned on his headlamp to look for the source of the noise, discovering a mouse stuck in the bottom of our tent’s waste bucket. We had deposited some snack bar wrappers there, not really heeding the posted warnings to keep food out of the tents (the camp offers storage for personal food items in the dining pavilion), and apparently our little rodent friend was taking full advantage of our negligence. As Chris was looking for a way to tip the bucket over outside without having a small furry creature run up his arm (shiver), the little guy suddenly found his way up and over the lip of the can and scurried out under the tent wall – why he couldn’t have figured that out earlier is a mystery, but perhaps he was simply scared and more motivated at this point. Anyway, Jane got little sleep after this event, thinking that the mouse would certainly be back and crawling all over our bed – finding some mouse droppings on our tent’s other bed at daybreak lent some legitimacy to her fears. So, a little worse for wear, we packed up after breakfast and headed out, thanking our hosts and bidding farewell to some of the remaining campers. Like the previous day, the morning sun on the marsh and meadows was gorgeous – between us, we shot more than a hundred photos in the half mile from the camp to the Marvin Pass trail junction. After that level section, we turned northward, following the trail down the hill to the parking area – Cynthia completed Mile 39 a couple of hundred yards from the Jeep. Although the camp’s literature calls the walk from the trailhead as a mile long, our GPS logged it at exactly three-quarters. Though pricey and remote, the Sequoia HSC delivers what they promise, a rustic “glamping” experience with a particular sense of style and class. The mouse thing was a bit disconcerting, but our disregard for policy certainly contributed to the situation. In total, this was a great weekend, less epic than the one planned in Yosemite but well worth the trip.