The Sierra High Route has been on my shortlist for a while. This summer it was time to act.
Before you ask, yes I did it solo and I did not bring a gun (to address the two most-often asked questions on my hikes). With the gun(s), I can't even. With respect to going solo, I really do not understand why it should be a big deal. If you can handle the solitude or, like me, actively seek it out, then there is no issue. I am in my late sixties and a likely hiking partner would probably be in a similar age bracket. Were I to have an accident, it's not that somebody of that age could carry me out on their back and thereby "save" me (or vice versa). And I can operate an emergency beacon myself just fine. So I see no upside on the safety side for not doing the route solo. I also don't need a partner to be "entertained", the route by way of scenery and challenge provides sufficient entertainment for me and I quite enjoy the near absolute quiet of the backcountry.
I wanted to start early, mid-July, in hopes of ducking fires. I did and it did not work out as I had hoped. When I started there was one fire on the West side in Yosemite valley. By the time I reached Bishop for a resupply there were three fires in the Yosemite area and the smoke made itself felt all the way to Bishop. Eventually I shortened the hike at Mammoth Lakes.
I flew into Fresno, took the bus to Visalia and stayed the night. I had hoped to be able to buy a isobutane/propane cartridge for the stove in Visalia. So I walked the 1.5 miles to Walmart in 103 F weather to come up empty-handed (they only had very large Coleman cartridges). That was exhausting! How do people live with this? I guess they just don't walk?
Next morning I took the shuttle bus to Sequoia NP, took the in-park shuttle to Wuksachi TH and hitched a ride over to Kings Canyon NP, Cedar Grove specifically. The first guy to pick me up was Dave who was taking his daughter to a horse-back riding outing. He had just completed the High Sierra Trail and was up on the High Route. He also spontaneously supplied me with a gas cartridge with the words "the trail provides!" Thanks a lot! From Grant Grove I got a ride to Cedar Grove with a commercial vehicle. A first! (The store at Cedar grove had 203g and 120g gas cartridges in stock, by the way)
I had made reservations for one night at Moraine campground, some 3 miles from the Copper Creek TH. I walked to Road's End ranger station to get my permit on the afternoon before my official start. On a day when Fresno was to reach 105 F, it was in the high 80's or low 90's. A loooooong walk and when I reached the ranger station the ranger at the counter wanted to see my bear canister, which conveniently the SEKI spam server does not mention as being a requirement (upon my complaint they say they fixed that omission). I could barely suppress the desire to throw a hissy fit. It's not the fault of the ranger in question, he does not make policy. But you would think that the staffers who send you spam messages about your excitement hopefully building could cut some of the crap and mention that the can needs to be shown. Anyway, the problem got negotiated down and I got the permit after all. On the way back to Moraine campground I even got a ride.
When I returned to the campground it turned out that the water had been turned off because of a water main break the day before and one had to buy bottled water at the store in Cedar Grove. So more walking in the heat that I had not counted on, both the heat and the walking. I returned to the campground and chugged down 2 L of water without a need to pee
Roads End to Lakes Basin
Next morning I walked back to Road's End in the morning cool, saw the only bear I saw the entire trip and a pack of coyotes crossing the road. At the trail head a local who was ready to hike up to Granite Basin shared some water and I was off. The intention was to climb the 5.5 k ft to Glacier Lakes. Oh you sweet summer child!
The first 3k ft of the trail are a real piece of work as you are exposed to full sunshine with the exception of a few trees along the way that cast a few feet worth of shade. At about 7k ft altitude the shade becomes better and there is even a creek crossing the path so that you can rehydrate. As a result you are no longer being fried in your own juices. I can only recommend in the strongest possible terms to start at the bottom at or even before day break. While camping at the TH is officially prohibited, there is probably a way to camp discreetly in the vicinity once the ranger in the Road's End kiosk leaves duty for the day. Eventually I made it to Upper Tent Meadow where there is an official camp site with a bear box and a nice creek nearby. Time to rehydrate and take it easy!
Next morning I made it up to the pass at 10.2 k ft altitude where you cross over into Granite Basin, then backtracked a bit to 10k ft altitude and contoured in the forest in direction of Grouse Lake. There is a lot of jumbled rock to contend with, but the trees are very nicely spaced so that you can easily keep track of where you are and eventually you may chance on the weak use trail. Eventually you reach the bedrock ramp that leads up to Grouse Lake. I had lunch there, contoured around the lake on its West bank and then started up to Grouse Lake Pass. Looking over to the East across the South Fork of the the Kings River clouds were deep grey to black, lightning could be seen striking the ground repeatedly and heavy curtains of rain were falling. With the system appearing to move West and not being familiar with Sierra weather patterns I camped half-way up the ridge and awaited things to come. By the time the rain reached me the fury was done and did not migrate across to my side of the river.
Next morning I completed the ascent to Goat Crest under blue skies in perfect sunshine, found a sort of ok way to descend into the valley on the other side that Granite Creek runs through. I disturbed a small group of bucks at their breakfast, some of the few examples of mega fauna I encountered on the High Route. The ascent to Goat Crest saddle is straightforward and the descent to the first of the Glacier Lakes not too complex if you explore your options. The descent from the lower Glacier Lake to the meadow below is a bit more difficult. I found a way on the right, about 100 yds from the cascade. I learned there a lesson that played out again and again during the hike: it really pays off to not give up too early when it appears that you are being cliffed out. Very often you will see an easy climb down if you step up right to the apparent abyss. The terrain is so steep and intricate that you won't see from 10-15 ft what you see right away at the edge of what looks like a cliff.
I made my way on the right edge of the meadows below the Lower Glacier Lake where there is a light use trail in the trees and eventually joined up with the Lakes trail. I camped close to the exit stream from Horseshoe Lake in the trees with a gentle stream gurgling in the background. I love these spots for lunch or camping!
Lakes Basin to Marion Lake
Next morning I contoured over to a steep ridge and spent some time finding a spot where the climb up this ridge was not too encumbered by talus. It's steep, but short and sweet. After another brief contour I reached the abyss of the Upper Middle Fork, but I could not detect the expected use trail at the edge of the abyss that Roper mentions. No matter as the trees are well spaced and you can wind your way up between them until you reach an open meadow bordered by a ridge on the right. Just follow the meadow further up as it curves to the left and before you know it you find yourself atop a "sandy" precipice. This is a first example of Roper's sense of humor. The sand I found had the grain size of a washer-drier combination or fridge/freezer combo unit. Maybe I would have found what regular people define as sand had I descended further to the left. I preferred to be closer to Gray Pass, the next goal for the day. I found a reasonable way down among the giant boulders and trees, successfully avoiding the cliffs further to my left and, maybe, the sand Roper talks about even further to the left. The contour over to Gray Pass is straightforward and then you find yourself looking down on the Middle Fork of Cartridge Creek. Roper waxes on about the bucolic landscape that one can find bucks in in the Fall. The bucolic part was lost on me. I saw a lot of water in tarns and creeks, I saw deadfall from downed trees, in short an intricate landscape. Looking across to the other side of the valley where I would have to climb up in a little while, I saw two possible paths. One looked to be a mixture of rock and willows below and past a shallow ridge and the second appeared to be a narrow, steep band of willows that a creek runs through. I inferred the "willows" part from the peculiar green hue willows have that's different than that of grass, and I was correct in that. With these two potential paths to White Pass identified, I started to descend from Gray Pass along a drainage on the right that got me about a third down. I then moved to a series of interconnected grassy ramps further to the left and, when cliffed out, I contoured right across an extremely steep grassy gully to reach without much difficulty the tarns I had seen from the top .
The Palisades in the background
Now close to the other side of the valley I followed the rocky ramp up until I reached a very steep granite slab that I did not think I could climb, all the more so as I could not see what was awaiting me higher up. So I contoured over to the willow-covered gully on the left. Fortuitously there was a narrow grassy strip next to the willows which allowed me to climb easily if steeply until I could exit to the right in the direction of the three tarns Roper mentions. It started to rain and I put up my tent and promptly fell asleep. I was awakened by voices and found the sun shining and my tent dried out. I have no idea how long I had been passed out, but the sleep was most welcome. I threw together my pack and continued up to White Pass, disturbing a magnificent buck during his second breakfast near a tarn on the right just below White Pass.
At the top of White Pass I followed Roper's suggestion and climbed up in direction of Marion Peak and then contoured in direction Red Pass. It was mostly straightforward. I don't think I caught the best possible gully to descend to below Red Pass, but it was still quite convenient. On Red Pass you look down the other side and it's a bit of a mess. High up there is a system of interconnected ramps that is straightforward to navigate and you lose altitude quickly. You then reach a willow-covered section through which, luckily, there is a use trail that gets you down to a cliff which you can circumnavigate on the use trail on the right to reach a flat area where you can catch your breath before approaching Marion Lake. By this time it was raining intensely, but luckily only briefly.
The use trail continues until you reach a steep gully with a magnificent view of Marion Lake below. Even though the sky was overcast the lake was of an incredible blue color, living up to its reputation. From what you see at this location you would think that you are on top of the left-most gully of the ones you see and this is the one that Roper recommends you take. And holy cow is this thing steep and, yes, somewhat frightening!
I was lucky in that there was a group in front of me who were following a GPS track. They knew that there was another gully further to the left hidden behind a granite ridge. In a bout of perversity they ignored the information they had and went down the obvious chute, but were kind enough to advise me not to follow their example and instead explore the hidden chute. And I even took their advice!
The hidden gully can be reached by scrambling up the ridge to the left of the use trail at basically any location you find comfortable. You see the gully easily from on top and then you just have to find a way into it. The top of the gully has some serious talus but shortly you can avoid most of it on skier's right. After a tussocky grassy section you wind your way through willows and across slabs. Eventually you reach a use trail at the lake's edge. Pretty much a nothingburger as long as you know about the hidden gully.
At the North end of the lake, near the outlet, is the plaque in memory of Marion LeConte. There is a nice little meadow that allows you to sit and take in the scenery. The lake was completely still and I took some nice picture of the cliffs on the South shore being reflected in the water.
I crossed the outlet and camped under the trees well above lake level to avoid condensation problems, although most likely any katabatic air will fall down into the massive gulch that is the Cartridge Creek drainage.
Marion Lake to Upper Basin
Next morning I headed for the first really hard pass, Frozen Lake Pass, and it was not going to be my day. After about half an hour I found myself atop a lake that had a rough L-shape and that's what I had been looking for, so I descended to it and once down came to realize that nothing else I had expected was to be found. So I checked the map and, sure enough, the L-shaped lake I was at was not the one I was supposed to be at. The real target was further East. So next two hours I spent fixing this screw-up by contouring over into Lakes basin. But I was not done with the fuck-ups yet. As I contoured further Northeast to get around the swampy meadow I noticed a bowl with what looked like the "dam" of a tarn and that was what I was expecting to see, so up I go. Nice tarn and I see a pass, so everything is in order, or so it seems. I start climbing in the direction of the pass and as I look back I notice a peninsula in the tarn and I also note that the pass is not to the left of the longitudinal axis of the lake. First I think that the peninsula is due to the low water as a result of the drought until I recall that I had a snack at the outlet and the water level cannot ever be higher than it is at this moment. Out come the maps and, sure enough I screwed up, I am in a drainage West of where I am supposed to be. So I hand back to the goddess of altitude all of the feet I had climbed to get back to the outlet of the tarn. Then I try to avoid further loss of altitude by trying to contour and in short order realize that I would be wasting more time trying to avoid the descent to the bottom of the basin rather than acknowledging that I had to hand back more altitude. Grudgingly I did and then found a ridge with granite slabs to walk up. After having gained some altitude a very nice grassy gully (not the Roper kind, but one that any reasonable human would recognize as such) opened up on the right and I followed that up until it ran out. At that point I could see below the two tarns located below the tarn I intended to reach. A bit more contouring through talus and some grassy bands delivered me to the tarn below Frozen Lake Pass.
At the tarn I saw about five notches in the ridge above, one more forbidding looking to reach than the next, and I spent some time deciding which one was in fact Frozen Lake Pass. I carefully figure out the long axis of the tarn, looked to the left of it and triangulated from its Northern end to reach, hurray, the conclusion that turned out to be correct. It looked forbidding! Realizing that everybody talks about the other side as difficult I decided to camp at the tarn even though it was kind of early, maybe 3 PM, but I was not sure that I would find a spot to camp before darkness fell if I crossed the pass in the afternoon. The first wise decision of the day!
Next morning I contoured around the tarn and found a series of grassy ramps that got me up quite a bit before hitting talus. I then reached a large boulder about half-way up where I had decided to make the decision on how to proceed to the top. Very high up and to the right of the pass there appeared to be a ledge/ramp, but it was impossible to decide from the bottom whether it was wide enough to get up to the pass. Alternatively, there was a set of bedrock gullies that one might use heading more or less straight up to the pass. Lastly there was talus slope to the left of the pass that one might be able to scramble up to the ridge and then would have to descend to the pass along or slightly below the crest.
The last one was the least attractive owing to the talus and it did not grow on me as I came closer. As it turned out, I could not see the ridge/ramp from the point where I was to decide, so the gullies it was. #1 was filled with scree that was loose and might bury me if it were to come down; #2 was bare, but had no hand holds. #3 was the ticket, a chute filled with stable talus that was easy to climb and then the ledge/ramp on the right came into view and I could contour over and easily walk up the pass. Yeah, the ledge/ramp is the way to go if you can find the beginning of it.
Up at the top I found the only patch of Polemonium aka "sky pilot" of the portion of the route I hiked. It only grows above 10k ft, but the altitude is only necessary but not sufficient to find this plant apparently.
The down climb lived up to its reputation, steep and loose at the top, then pretty much endless talus down to the lake, a bit of residual snow to traverse and then you reach the precipice past the outlet of the tarn and see the round lake below that you are to aim for. Roper instructs to aim down diagonally to the left, but I would recommend to head left while it is flat and then find your way down a partly sandy talus slope. I followed Roper and found myself atop cliffs that I could not overcome and had to scramble quite a bit to reach the talus slope I mentioned. What a morning and looking back, quite an achievement.
Upper Basin to Dusy Basin
You find yourself on a flat with a few tarns and streams and you can stroll across it to the John Muir Trail which you follow over Mather Pass. I had the wrong mental picture of Mather Pass but that was without consequence as I was following the JMT. At the bottom the trail does a long contour across talus and scree and then you see the magnificent switchbacks at an almost wheelchair-accessible grade in a steep talus slope.
In short order you are on top and look down into another glacier-scraped basin and the Palisade Lakes in the distance. I chatted with a few JMT hikers coming the other way. Many were on their first Sierra hike, just like myself. The main difference between us was the size and weight of the packs, mine being stripped down to the almost minimum while they were lugging 40 to 70 lbs. I may have been huffin' and puffin', but they were sufferin'!
I camped some 100 yds off trail as it flattened in the vicinity of a small stream and had a great night. Next morning as I headed in direction of Palisades Lakes there was a lot of JMT traffic coming the other way and I was not at all sad to leave the JMT shortly after passing the outlet of the Lower Palisade Lake.
The climb to Cirque Pass starts with a grassy ramp that is really quite steep and heads up straight the mountainside. You then can use some grassy ramps of more moderate slope that get you up to the tarns and from there it is an easy walk up to the pass. I think this is maybe the most easy pass of the route. The way down the other side was also easy and you will be finding yourself at the unnamed lake below Mt. Jepson in short order.
I had planned to climb Mt. Sill and so I first visited the mouth of the bowl below Mt. Jepson that is the beginning of the ascent to that peak. While Alan Dixon says climbing Mt. Sill should take you half a day, it looked a bit more complicated than that (I am not an Alan Dixon after all) with the talus. I was a bit behind schedule by this point and a look into my bear canister convinced me to cut the climb lest I be hungry for two or three days rather than one or two.
For Potluck Pass Roper's instructions are almost completely useless. He recommends climbing a knoll and descending to a tarn when possible. This knoll is about 20 ft in altitude, so you really gain absolutely nothing. Just head over to the bottom of the pass, somewhere near the middle and look at the ramps and figure something out. Be aware that once you are in the wall things will be looking different, but you'll encounter features you saw from the bottom that will allow you to orient. There are many paths to Rome, as the saying goes, and there are several to Potluck Pass.
The descent on the other side is easy when you aim for the inconspicuous saddle and head down to the Barrett Lakes below. These reveal themselves one after the other and then you are below Knapsack Col. I recommend the same strategy as for Potluck: walk to point where you see the entirety of what you have to work with and then make a plan.
On the other side the plan was to get to the Dusy Basin Trail leading up to Bishop Pass and to intersect it at about 10.5 k ft near where it veers North to descend into LeConte Canyon. The point here is to try to stay as high as possible to avoid as much as possible to have to deal with the willows. After a few ramps I found a gully that I could climb down easily if steeply. Bonus was that a small melt water creek ran through it taking care of my water needs. I then contoured on the right on moderate slope with some ledges and cliffs for which I always found a reasonable connection, 10.5 k ft is about right. I reached Dusy Basin Trail a bit lower than I had planned, maybe 100 ft, but overall this worked like a charm.
Dusy Basin to Bishop
Bishop Pass trail is NP-built trail in pretty good shape, although the steps they built in got to me. So I am 6'4" and I find step sizes of > 1ft to be a PITA and I could not help wondering how a person of 5'6" with a heavy pack deals with these. There should be a stone placed below these high steps to break the step height into two steps of half-height. There is not exactly a shortage of rocks in this area, you don't have to import them from Lower Slobovia!
Crossing Bishop Pass is a bit more tedious than you'd think and slower as well. While I had hoped to catch a ride from the South Lake trailhead into Bishop (the bus leaves from the parking lot around 4:30, $20), this became less and less likely as the trail dragged on. Eventually I just called it a day and camped in the trees by the side of the trail. Next morning I continued on walking against a long string of day hikers coming up the trail.
I walked down the South Lake road past Parchers resort where a Bishop local picked me up as he returned home from torturing some trout at South Lake. He had good recommendations for breakfast spots. I first went to Looney Bean on the main drag for an American Heart Association breakfast of French toast, bacon and egg. I chatted with an older couple at the counter, the husband knowing part of the country I had passed through quite well. After they had left I was informed that they had paid for my breakfast. How nice!
I next headed down the street to the Mexican place (El Ranchito) where I had a serving of Huevos Ranchero with more coffee. With my arteries suitably stiffened up I retrieved my food parcel from the PO and found myself a motel for the night and vegetated for a couple of hours. It was 105 F outside and I ventured out only briefly for the most minimal purchases that I could get away with and some Mexican dinner. Bishop was filled with haze from the Yosemite fires. The White Mountain range on the East side of town was only barely visible.
Bishop to Bear Lakes Basin
Next morning I took the shuttle to near North Lake and walked up to the Paiute trail TH. The wind had come up and blown most of the smoke away overnight. I climbed over Paiute Pass into Humphrey's basin. The trail was only moderately busy, mostly with day hikers. It's NP trail, with steps, of course!
I camped near a creek below Mesa Lake and after a restful night ascended to Desolation Lake and from there to Puppet Pass. This is a quite extended pass with very steep cliffs up top on the "down" side if you are going North
After some exploration of potential entries into the bowl below I moved far to the right, above the lowest point of the pass, and descended from there to Puppet Lake. Some contouring and further descent let me reach Elba Lake where I camped and enjoyed a peaceful afternoon and evening. Elba Lake is not as pretty as Elba in Italy, but it is also not as popular, so it has that going for it.
Next morning I descended through the forest to French Canyon, crossed the stream and headed downstream across meadows along a gurgling stream. I climbed cross-country up to Merriam Lake. As Andrew in his map set indicates, the ascent is steep but, again, there is a lot of space between the trees and the walking is easy on that count. There is also an abundance of ledges and ramps. High up I chanced upon residues of the trail shown as running on the left bank of the outlet stream of Merriam Lake. As the slope lessened I crossed the stream and found the main trail on the right bank that got me to the Northern shore of Merriam Lake where a steep head wall has to be climbed. I briefly chatted with a woman who was camped nearby and then made my way up. It's steep, but one can find a faint use trail which simplifies matters. Once up top it is an easy cross country walk across slabs, meadows and some talus to the bottom of Feather Pass.
It's a bear of a climb, but it fittingly leads to Bear Lakes basin, so what would you expect? I made it across White Bear Pass, a bit unique as it has a lake just below the crest of the pass and descended a somewhat harrowing talus slope to Brown Bear Lake where I camped on a small meadow lakeside. What a day!
Bear Lakes Basin to Laurel Lake
Next morning I walked past Teddy Bear Lake and then contoured right into the Hildegard Branch in direction of Lake Italy which I walked around on the North shore as suggested by Andrew's map set. I very much enjoyed the wild flowers. It's easy walking and I took it easy, the previous day still in my bones. The ascent to Gabbot Pass was an easy walk across alpine meadows littered washing machine size rocks and slabs to walk on.
The other side is by far not as pleasant. As you crest you enter a grassy gully for the first 50 ft of altitude and then the crap starts. I did not have the right mental picture of the inconspicuous saddle on the right that Roper talks about, so I looked at it but I did not "see" it. As a result the descent was more harrowing than it needed to be as I walked to the left of the shallow ridge that forms the saddle instead of to the right of it. So my descent was across steep, loose sand and scree with the rocks not being forthcoming about the solidity of their position. I hated it! So if you go down this pass, the important part of the inconspicuous saddle is the "inconspicuous" part!
At Upper Mills Lake I briefly chatted with a Tahoe local who was traveling with his family to take his fly-fishing- addicted son to have a swing at the supposedly giant brown trout in Upper Mills. I continued on and camped at Lower Mills Lake, calling it an early day, I had some tea and cookies and later cooked dinner. How civilized!
Next morning the descent into Second Recess, a giant U-shaped valley carved in the time of glaciation. The early part through the deadfall near the outlet of Lower Mills Lake is kind of cross country as the trail is hard to find. Once the slope steepens the trail on the right bank is mostly easy to find. You then come to the outlet cascades at the bottom of which you see an aspen jungle, which you positively want to avoid. Luckily, I did not have to find that out the hard way as is my wont. I looked at it and knew it was bad news. I contoured out to the right into a steep brushy slope above the aspen and found a use trail that led me down to the valley floor through very steep forest with some giant trees. There was an additional not quite as steep slope to overcome, but the trail was ok.
I crossed the stream, had a snack break and chatted with a group hiking one of the valley trails, Mono Creek Trail. There was quite a bit of foot traffic. I was not too sad to leave all this behind and climb up the Laurel Lake Trail.
Laurel Lake to Tully Hole
It's pretty darn steep, but flattens out pretty suddenly. Once you step out of the forest it's a bit of a free-for-all as the trail fades. I eventually made it to the left bank where there is a trail and followed it up to Laurel Lake to the two truck-size boulders on the Northwest corner where Roper promises a view of the grassy slopes of Bighorn Pass. The man has a sense of humor, I have to say.
There is actually quite a bit of grass on that slope, but you won't see much of it from the bottom, except for the last ramp before the false pass. As I climbed I did find ramps that connected to each other and, apart from the slope, the ascent was not as difficult as it looked. The false pass was a bit of a let down, but I should have expected it, it's evident from the map. The descent to Rosy Finch Lake, as recommended by Andrew Skurka, was pretty straightforward. On the other hand, I could not even see how the contour to Shout-of-Relief Pass that Roper recommends is even supposed to work! That day I slacked yet again and called it a day early. A really nice evening on a pleasant meadow next to a stream with good water. Paradise!
Next morning a straightforward climb up to Shout-of-Relief Pass, followed by an easy descent the other side. Yeah! Once down at the tarn below the pass you have overcome some complex terrain on your way to Isaac Walton Lake. There are lots of small streams and small tarns and glacier-polished small ridges that hide what's coming next. Intricate but fun!
I climbed through the inlet stream of Isaac Walton Lake as a way of shortcutting the search for the "ramps of the far left" that Roper mentions. Steep, but straightforward. Once around the lake the lake I ran into more problems below it than I had bargained for. Andrew's maps show that you stay on the left of the outlet stream, but I found myself cliffed out and apparently was unable to see the path down through or around these cliffs. Eventually I descended along the creek, which was kind of rough, on the right bank, switching sides for brief stretches. Eventually I got pushed onto the right bank for a while, descending steeply through the trees until another cliff band stopped me. Some exploration yielded a weakness I dared climbing down and it was easy from there to reach Horse Haven near Tully Hole. Andrew teases you with a note in the map "tempting to use the trail", the McGee PassTrail along Fish Creek. My advice: Give in to temptation! Consider foregoing Isaac Walton Lake and make your way to Tully Lake and from there down to the bottom. To be clear, I have no done this myself.
Tully Hole to Mammoth Lakes
You next climb up the switchbacks up to Virginia Lake. Although I felt like making camp in the trees near that lake, there was way too much traffic up there, so I continued on to Purple Lake, rising and descending in the forest only to find that camping was severely restricted. On to Duck Lake, but I stopped at a convenient spot in the vicinity of a small stream crossing the trail with a great view of the canyon below Duck Lake.
On a very quiet and sunny morning I made my way to the Duck lake outlet and then onto the slope climbing diagonally up to Duck Pass. What a view!
Going down the other side for a short stretch from the pass I reached the use trail that climbs up to the left in direction of the Deer Lakes. As you reach the flat on top the trail fades but reappears as you make your way through islands of rock/grass between the willows to reach a sandy flat area right before the precipice that you have to climb down to Deer Lakes. This basin I had been my goal the previous day, but I was lucky not to have made it. There was a large, noisy party of car campers without cars. Glad to have avoided that. The views from the Monarch Crest were nothing short of fantastic.
Then comes a steep, straight up the hillside climb to the Mammoth Crest trail and then it's just a straight walk along the latter. Quite a few day hikers coming the other way, some of which I chatted with for a few minutes. Eventually I reached the point, or so I thought, above McLeod Lake and Mammoth Pass. But, hold it! I still had one orienteering error left from the six pack I started this trip with. You see some people take a six-pack of beers, or of cokes, or both, but I, in order not to have to carry so much weight, I take a six-pack of orienteering errors which weigh nothing and cost nothing but time. So I needed to use the last one, they go bad once you start the six-pack, don't ya know!
I recalled from the Thru-we-go blog that there is a descent through pumice and I saw a steep pumice slope before me and went for it. Alas I was about 100 yds too far East and the trail I was expecting at the bottom was not there. I had mistaken Horseshoe Lake for McLeod Lake and now had to fix this by descending down to Horseshoe Lake or contouring over to McLeod Lake. Man, this was one hell of a steep descent in the forest. It does not look too steep on the map as that shows the average slope, but the actual terrain consists of very steep slopes and ledges. Convoluted terrain that one could not see farther ahead than 100 yds. My attempt to contour over to McLeod Lake was frustrated shortly after I started it by cliffs I had not seen. So I took my lumps, made my way to Horseshoe Lake, used the trail along the shore to reach the TH and quick as lightning got out of that hellhole to Mammoth Pass and solitude. The trail down to Red's Meadow first goes through old-growth forest with lots of downed giant tress and the next generation reaching the age of its demise. Then comes a band of all new growth before you reach a hillside filled with completely dead trees. Shortly before you reach Reds there is some healthy-looking forest again and then you join humanity at the pack station. Lots of JMT folk replenishing supplies, day hikers waiting for the shuttle to Mammoth. Not quite as much a zoo as Horseshoe Lake TH, but clearly civilization had me back, no point denying it.
The cheeseburger hit the spot and then I made my way to the backpackers sites on Reds Meadow campground. I shared a campsite with a family hiking the JMT and as the afternoon progressed more hikers showed up. We were surrounded by car camping families making their rackets as they always do at the FS campgrounds. I could not wait to get out!
Next morning I took the shuttle bus to Mammoth Lakes, then the trolley through town to the greasy spoon where I had another American Heart Association breakfast in the company of "Bait", a Southbound JMT hiker from the Northeast.
Man, Mammoth Lakes is an expensive place! You can get a pretty nice hotel room in a major urban center for what I paid for a shabby motel room. But it's just money and I am told you can't take it with you.
I called it quits at Mammoth Lakes because of the uncertainty surrounding the fire further North. Talking to people coming South you could get support for any opinion you had. Whether the smoke was bad or tolerable was something that appeared to change daily. Since I had taken it a bit easier in the most recent days, I was sufficiently behind schedule for my return flight that I might have made it to Tuolumne Meadows, but not to Twin Lakes. So I decided that "I will be back!" as Arnie says.
Some final thoughts
My first hike in the Sierra was a complete success. The beginning was hard physically, coming from 50 ft above sea level to 10k ft is hard, but I got used to it, and while I think the Hawaiian islands are hot in the summer, they got nothing on the Central Valley.
There was almost zero bug pressure, I could have used a tarp. I did not use my crampons once. This may well be special to this year with an early snow melt, but I certainly was happy about it.
Overall I found the route to be physically easier than I had expected from trip reports. It may have helped that I was not going for an FKT. SKT is my game, and that's without fishing.
Bonus content: Some flowers along the way
