Autumn in full swing
Day two dawned clear and bright and we woke fairly rested. It was chilly first thing in the morning and we broke out puffer coats and gloves. Down in the aspens, the sun's filtered light barely hit us and we broke camp and were back on the trail by eight.
We immediately began to climb, working our way up from the spring. The ascent wasn't terribly steep and the aspen trees receded somewhat to give us the expansive views we were getting used to. We crossed over the ridge into another canyon choked with baby aspen trees about four feet tall, crowding each side of the trail.
The bush whacking continued on for several hours as we fought our way through the mini forest. We eventually broke for lunch once we made it through the worst of it, happy to find a spot that was clear of some of the thicker underbrush. So far, the day hadn't been much of a challenge and we were confident in our ability to reach Overland Lake without much fuss.
Then the switchbacks started.
The aspens abruptly gave way to open scrub brush, and the wind began to pick up. We started the trek upwards, the sun beating down as we climbed steadily. Between the sun and the wind, every drop of sweat was instantly sucked away. I was beginning to wonder if the climb was going to be worth the fuss.
Then I hit the summit. 
The Back Side of the Rubies
The Back Side of the Rubies Almost instantly, the ground was covered with sweeping fields of wildflowers and great hunks of white granite. Weathered pines were scattered along the trail and the scorching heat subsided with the howling wind.
The trail flattened out, and I scampered along the summit ridge, passing a lone hunter out looking for the elusive Snow Cock. I rounded another corner and looked down into the bowl which held our destination for the night. Overland Lake. 
Overland Lake
Overland Lake The pool was ridiculously blue. So blue in fact, it almost looked fake. We took a break at the summit, congratulating ourselves on making it up the switchbacks from hell. We spotted a small structure on the shores of the lake from our vantage point. It would turn out to be a rustic cabin, but our wild guesses ranged from outhouse to hunting lodge.
The way down to the lake was another series of switchbacks, but these were far more rocky and decorated with pink and yellow wildflowers. A pika yelled at us for disturbing the area, and we finally reached the far shore of the lake just before five.
Another long day completed, we set up camp, marveling at the scenery and the hundreds of fish rolling in the clear blue waters.
On the Shore We were definitely feeling the strain of the past few days. Both of us were proud owners of a couple blisters, but spirits were high. The chipmunk population of this particular lake was healthy, and the rodents scampered over every available surface.
Our camp for the night was shared by another set of backpackers that had passed us that day, two guys who had set up a little way down the shore from us. Knowing the long day was mere hours away, we again went to bed early, eager to take on Day 3.