It was sufficiently wet at First Water


and also at Decker Spring.

After filtering out tiny bugs and dirt, its spring water tasted sweet and cool, like the virgin waters of the high Sierras.
I then proceeded to check out the old trail from different sides. On one side a younger path competed for my attentions.
But on the opposite side I found a strange gravestone.

Who was this Mr. Joseph D. Foley, and what is his story? I can only imagine that it has something to do with the Mt. Wilson Trail's alluring charms--and perhaps its philandering ways.