June 21, 1862: East of Pacheco Pass
[Today] we climbed another peak, about eight miles northwest—nothing of especial interest. Sunday was a quiet day in a windy camp. I wrote for some time in the tent, but at last the wind grew too high for that. We took a pleasant swim in a stream near, the first swim for the season. That night was the windiest we have had this season. We had to pile saddles, stones, anything heavy, on our blankets while we crawled in them, yet the wind would blow through them.