My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

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Lumbergh21
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My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

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Part 1

I reached the end of the JMT at the summit of Whitney and an end to the longest backpacking trip of my life on August 3, 2015. By August 4, 2015, I was yearning to return to the trail. I was in the best shape of my life, mentally and physically. To paraphrase John Muir, I had spent nearly two weeks in the woods and washed my spirit clean. There were difficult times, physically and mentally; but mostly there was wonder and awe and appreciation for the beauty all around me. The beauty of the Sierras and the people I met while travelling through them had renewed my spirit, and I wanted to return right then and there. But, I knew that I couldn’t.

I was able to get in a few weekend backpacking trips up in the Trinity Alps before the snow began to fall, but while enjoyable, they could not match the beauty and the grandeur of the Sierra. That winter I began searching for other hikes through the Sierra. I wasn’t ready for the off-trail Sierra High Route, but the High Sierra Trail looked like a good start to another memorable fortnight in the Sierra.

I poured over the topo maps on CalTopo, and over the winter came up with three potential loops starting from Crescent Meadow. Now, just to get a permit. The antiquated fax reservation system that SEKI was using was thwarting my plans. Every time I tried to fax an application to the ranger station, it got spit back at me with the disheartening phrase, “transmission failed”. I eventually gave up hope on my High Sierra Loop and moved to plan B a trip through Humphrey’s Basin with plenty of easy off-trail to ease me into the world of off-trail travel. I entered my itinerary for Humphrey’s basin and received confirmation later that day that it had been accepted and processed. Then that evening, I received an email confirming that my proposed itinerary for SEKI had also been accepted and processed despite all of the busy signals and failed transmissions. I had a decision to make, which hike would I take. The answer was obvious, I’ll do both! After a day off to resupply, clean up, and drive from the west side of the Sierra to the east side, I would pick up my permit and spend my second week in Humphrey’s Basin.

On August 27, 2016, I left home for Lodgepole Visitor’s Center to pick up my permit and start my High Sierra Trail Loop. Okay, so I slept in a little and didn’t leave home until 7:30 AM, but it shouldn’t take me more than 7 hours to drive to Lodgepole even with a few quick stops along the way. I had no problems getting in the park, no wait at all. About 10 miles into my drive through the park to Lodgepole I got stuck behind a slow moving tour bus. Still no problem, I’ll make it to Lodgepole by 2:30 or shortly after. Then as we slowly drew to within 2 miles of Lodgepole, I could see cars stopped and a ranger standing in the road with a Stop sign. Cars began making U-turns and heading back the other way. After I made my way to the front, the ranger told me that there had been a fatal accident and that the road (the General’s Highway) had been closed and would remain closed for another 2 hours or more. It was 2:30, and while I was unsure of when the Lodgepole Visitor’s Center closed, I figured a 2-hour delay would mean no permit for me.

I made the u-turn and returned to Wuksachi Lodge, a short ways back up the road from the accident. Over the short drive to Wuksachi I formulated a plan to hike to Lodgepole. In the parking lot, I got out the park map provided to me upon entry and saw that there was indeed a trail between Wuksachi and Lodgepole that looked like it was only about 2.5 miles. I can do that in an hour! So, I went over my gear one last time, changed my clothes, hoisted my pack onto my shoulders, and left for Lodgepole on foot. I wasn’t letting anything keep me from the Sierra, least of all something like a closed road.

I got to the trailhead at 3:00 PM and saw that it was actually 3.1 miles. I put the pedal to the metal and hit the trail running (ok, a moderately fast walk). I was cruising despite the extra weight of a bear canister full with seven days of food and 2 pints of beer chillin’ in my pack. Less than one hour later, I stepped onto the paved road running through the Lodgepole Campground, and at 4:07 I stepped up to the Wilderness Desk at the Lodgepole Visitor’s Center … the closed Wilderness Desk. I asked the ranger packing up if the desk was closed – just to be sure – and she confirmed that the desk was closed and that officially it closes at 3:30. She listened to my plight and confirmed that the road had just reopened. Taking pity on me, she smiled and said, we can take care of the paperwork while the computer reboots. Thanks again Leeann, the best ranger I have ever met.

Two park busses and one transfer later, I arrived at the Crescent Meadows trailhead at 5:10 PM. I needed to really get movin’ if I wanted to camp at the Mehrten Creek crossing that night. After a moderate 20 minute climb, the trail crested over a ridge and the forest fell away revealing a deep canyon below me and granite peaks all around. I enjoyed the view and a short break as I snapped pictures that won’t impart more than the faintest sense of the view I was enjoying at the moment, but taking pictures is a requirement of backpacking in the Sierra isn’t it?
Looking Up The Canyon Day 1.jpg
As the forest around me started to darken, I realized that I wasn’t making it to Mehrten Creek before darkness and started to look for the camp sites that the ranger mentioned were near Panther Creek, as well as the creek itself as my water was dwindling. Shortly after filtering 2L of water at a small creek crossing, I spied a flat spot about 80 feet below the trail and scrambled down to it. Flat enough and just enough room for my tarp. I didn’t feel like cooking and just finished off the few snacks I had in the hip belt of my pack along with the two pints of beer (need carbs while hiking, you know). The views were somewhat screened by the trees, but I was able to enjoy a sliver of the night sky as the stars came out and I drifted asleep underneath my bug netting, my tarp tied back for minimum cover and maximum views and ventilation.

Day two began as the first rays of sun lit the sky, and I burrowed under my down quilt. But, I knew that I was already behind the schedule I gave to the Ranger back at Lodgepole, and I needed to catch up if I was going to make it back to Lodgepole before I ran out of food. I decide to skip a hot breakfast in favor of a quicker start. As it turned out, I had camped only a mile or so short of the Mehrten Creek crossing, and I was basically back on schedule after crossing the creek a little before 8 AM on my way to Bearpaw Meadow, a back country resort of sorts.

Upon arriving at Bearpaw Meadow I stopped to enjoy the expansive views and a second breakfast of some trail mix. As I continued up to Hamilton Lake, where I planned to take a longer break for lunch and a bath, I came across some fellow travelers at the bridge crossing the Kaweah River. Four guys and a girl were headed the same way as me and planned to camp near the Big Arroyo Patrol Cabin same as me. Two others were on their way out after 4 days in the Sierra. Everybody was in high spirits, and we passed around wishes for continued health and enjoyment of the beauty around us.

Middle Hamilton Lake is about 12 miles from where I camped the night before, and I began to really drag, my progress up the trail reduced to a slow plod. I had left behind the group of young adults at a stream crossing that offered a wilderness shower in the form of a small water fall and ledge just above a steep drop-off of several hundred feet to the canyon floor below. I knew that I needed food, but I had already gone through the snacks that I had packed into my hip belt and couldn’t afford to eat anymore before lunch as there aren’t a lot of stores available for resupply, and the fast food up there is too fast for me to catch.

With muted joy I finally reached Middle Hamilton Lake a little after 1:00 and found a gently sloping rock surface leading into the lake. After taking off my pack, I decided to take care of washing some clothes and myself in the invitingly clear waters of Hamilton Lake before the other hikers caught up to me. After washing off the trail dust and putting on my other set of clothes, I settled down to making some backpacker nachos for lunch. The others began trickling in as I made lunch, the last arriving as I was cleaning my lunch dishes (my cup and spoon). I spent the next hour laying in some shade and drinking a liter of water flavored with Zip Fizz, a fizzy, flavored electrolyte mix. Finally, I decided that I better pack up and leave, or I might take root and join the trees clinging to the rocky shores of the lake.
Middle Hamilton Lake.jpg
The tall leader of the small group of friends wore a cowboy hat, and in my own mind I dubbed him Tex. (I’m horrible with names in general and had forgotten their real names by that evening.) I passed up Tex and the lone woman of the group shortly after leaving Hamilton Lake, and we began leap frogging up the trail, first one and then the other taking the lead but never getting more than a few hundred yards in front, passing the baton of leadership as the previous leader slowed. We worked our way upward and onward on a trail scratched out of the side of the mountain. We passed through the “famous” tunnel that replaced a long gone bridge. It was a bit anti-climactic; I somehow expected more. Shortly after, I paused for a break and pointed out the location of Precipice Lake to Tex and the woman. I caught my second wind, maybe the nachos were kicking in, but for whatever reason I started pulling away from Tex and the woman.
Looking Back on Middle Hamilton.jpg
Upon arrival at Precipice Lake I was about 2 hours behind my planned pace, but I try not to worry about schedules and such while I’m out hiking. Schedules are something for the “real” world; they do not belong out here, the true world. As long as I have water, a place to lay my head, and food, what does it matter what day it is or whether or not I’ve made it to some relatively arbitrary place on a map? I carry my bedroom, entertainment center, and kitchen on my back. Wherever I decide to pitch my tent is home. It’s a lesson that I thought I had learned in 2015 on the JMT the first day out of Muir Trail Ranch, the wilderness is there to feed me and recharge me. I cannot rush that infusion of energy or pour out my frustrations to be swallowed by the trail and the trees around me according to some schedule. Yet, every time I have gone into the wilderness since the JMT, I cannot seem to throw off the chains of a schedule and the need to keep to it. I’m working on it though.

At Precipice Lake the lake and the lighting didn’t lend themselves to pictures. Water was raining down on the opposite side of the lake as snow clinging to the walls above melted, creating a small, very localized downpour. The water was crystal clear, and I made myself stop and relax while filling my water bottles and rinsing out my socks in the lake outlet … in that order. Within 15 minutes Tex and the woman who seemed to be his wife arrived, followed shortly after by two other members of the group. I learned there are six of them total, two of whom are dealing with aches and pains (blisters I presume, though I didn’t ask). Tex announced that he was starting a new tradition as he stripped down to nothing but his cowboy hat and waded into the crystal clear, ice-cold water of Precipice Lake. One of the other guys didn’t need much convincing and joined him in the tradition, while the cameraman of the group got his camera, so he could snap a picture “to send into REI”. The woman joined them as well and told the camera man to hurry up and snap the picture, then commented about how weird it was to be standing naked in an alpine lake next to her brother. I can’t disagree with that. I hope REI enjoys the shot of three moons setting just above the surface of Precipice Lake.
Precipice Lake.jpg
I was nearly packed up when they first entered the lake and finished packing and got on my way while they were drying off and trying to get some circulation going again. The sun was getting low, and I knew that I didn’t have more than a couple of hours left in the day for hiking. Obviously none of us was making it to the Big Arroyo Patrol Cabin, not before dark anyway.

About 30 minutes of easy hiking later, I reached Kaweah Gap and one of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen was spread out before me, the Big Arroyo. A huge half pipe filled with giant trees that looked like blades of grass stretched out below me, a small stream meandering down the middle with bare rock mountains rising on either side. I snapped a few pics with the light of the setting sun illuminating the mountains on the eastern side; dark shadows spreading out from the mountains on the west and creeping across the bottom of the arroyo. It was unlike anything I have ever seen before. A feeling of awe, wonder, peace, and maybe a little fear crept over me. I am so small, and it couldn’t have been more obvious than in that moment.
The Big Arroyo From Kaweah Gap.jpg
It was a quick trip down to the Arroyo, and the trail began winding first alongside then away from the creek. I was looking for a good place to stop, to call home for the night, and finally came across the right place for me, for that night. Dinner was more backpacker nachos, and Tex, the first of the sweet (or was it sweating?) six, passed by just as I began dinner. He said that he planned to continue to the next good camping spot and to please pass it along to the others behind him. I wished him well until we would certainly meet again the next day. I passed along Tex’s message to the others as they passed my camp after him. One remarked that I had a nice camping spot, probably because his spot was further down the trail, further than he wanted to go that day. It was another beautiful night, with wide open skies filled with stars, more than you can possibly comprehend if you live down in the valley with all of the city lights and “atmosphere” separating you from the much more enlightening lights of the night sky. I put in 18 miles, and it felt wonderful.
(To be continued)
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Lumbergh21
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

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Part 2

Hot Bath! (Day 3)
Along Arroyo Creek.jpg
Hot oatmeal and hot coffee for breakfast on Day 3; Snickers, a granola bar, and trail mix to get me through to lunch. I had decided to take the most direct route to the Kern River, bypassing Moraine Lake and saving a couple of miles. The sweet six were camped about half a mile down trail from my camp, and I stopped for a quick chat as I headed down the arroyo. They were planning on camping near the Kern Hot Springs, which was also where I had planned to camp that night. A fast packer fairly jogged by as I talked with them, and I told them that I would see them that afternoon before I continued down the trail. I caught and passed speedy just after the Big Arroyo Patrol Cabin trail junction, as he had paused and I hadn’t. The trail was climbing up the east side of the Arroyo, and about 30 minutes later I reached a clear spot with a rock perfect for sitting and resting. A wind was blowing and I got a bit chilled, but the view was beautiful, a perfect spot for some trail mix and a short rest. Speedy caught back up, and we had a nice conversation about hiking, good places for hiking in the Sierra, and hiking equipment (I’m sensing a theme here) while continuing along the top of the Arroyo. After a while we reached a downhill section of trail, and he said that he needed to get going. We said goodbye and he took off running down the trail, leaving me to my own thoughts and the solitude of the forest once again.
South Along The Kern River.jpg
I reached the trail junction to the Kern River and according to the mileage sign, I was making great time, just under 3 mph, which is fast for me, especially given the uphill trail segments. With less than 3 miles, most of it downhill to the Kern River, I figured on making the Kern Hot Springs by 1:00 PM at the latest, just in time for lunch. Then something strange happened. A mile became a much longer distance, much longer than it had been up to that time. It was 2 hours later when I reached the Kern River, already 1:00 PM and still over a mile from the hot springs. What happened?!? I was hot and angry as I continued along the Kern River wondering how far it really was to the bridge and the springs after it. Once again, I was letting an arbitrary schedule rule me and shape my attitude.

By the time I reached the Hot Springs at 2:00 I had regained some of the peace that I had felt that morning and was looking forward to a nice hot bath in the concrete tub that the hot springs fed. There was a couple at the hot springs already. I checked with the woman, and she said the water was too hot for her and that her husband wasn’t ready yet so it would be fine if I used the tub. I stripped down and dipped my toe in the water. It was hot, but not too hot by a long shot. With about half a liter of water left in my water bottle to sip on, I slid in and let the hot water wash over me. It was soooo relaxing. The dirt seemed to lift of my skin, the salty sweat and sore muscles washed away, fresh sweat trickling down my face and neck.

After 30 minutes of soaking, I decided it was time to cool off and have some lunch, so I gathered up my clothes and slipped on my shoes for the short walk down to the river. After gingerly testing the water temperature once again, I decided to get in and get submerged as quick as my “seasoned” limbs would allow. After wading out a few feet into mid-thigh water, I sat down and let the cold river wash over all of me…for all of 10 seconds, at least that’s my guess, before popping back up, gasping for breath. After a couple of minutes of cool down time, I was very ready to get back to shore, dry myself off, and let the summer sun warm me back up again.

As I made my lunch in some shade, my foam mattress rolled out as the base and my backpack forming the back of my back country chaise lounge, I was relaxed and enjoying life. I had a feeling of contentment and peace that I have only found, at least as far as I can remember, while in the wilderness. As I sat there, the hot springs area started to fill up with people I had passed on the trail earlier that day, though no sign of (what I was sure would be) the sweating six. I changed my plans and packed up my gear to find a more private location for my home that night. Besides it was still only 4:00, and I had plenty of hiking left in me. A few miles up trail, I found a good clear spot to pitch my tent between the trail and the creek, a good spot for that night’s home. The tent was set up, dinner was laid out for me, and my bed was made. I was ready for that night’s show to start. Once again, I fell asleep, beneath the tent’s bug screen, staring up at the stars that filled the sky above me.

How Far Was That Again? (Day 4)

The goal for Day 4 was a place I had seen signs for while hiking on the JMT. It was a name that intrigued me, Lake South America. The only explanation I could find for the name of the lake was its shape. I suppose it could be said to look like South America, in a Dahli-esque sort of way. According to my estimations, it was 13 or 14 miles to Lake South America from where I was camped. All I had to do was climb up and up along the Kern River to its headwaters a mere 4,900 feet higher in elevation. The trail slowly meandered up the canyon along the Kern River, with almost no perceptible gain in elevation. I was making good time once again, but getting worried about how steep the trail that lay ahead must be to gain all of that elevation to Lake South America.
Head Wall Below Kern Basin.jpg
There was a little bit of a climb after I passed the Colby Pass trail junction. The climbing ended at the Wallace Creek Trail Junction, and soon after I took a short break for second breakfast and to filter water at a well-established camp site along the Kern River. It was looking like I was going to have the easy day I had envisioned the night before. Then a strange thing happened again, the miles got longer. I found myself looking at my maps every 30 minutes trying to figure how far I was along the trail and whether or not I had walked by that trail junction or crossed that creek. I must be at least to this point on the map, right? Finally, after swinging out to the right to get around and above a sheer headwall, I came upon a lake at 10,690 feet at 1:00 PM. Time for lunch.
Lunch In Kern Basin.jpg
I needed a break, so I decided to try a little fishing before heading on to Lake South America. I had no plans to keep and cook any fish, but I just couldn’t resist trying out my new lightweight collapsible rod and reel at this beautiful lake. First cast, 7-inch golden trout. Second cast 6-inch golden trout. Third cast 8-inch golden trout. I was actually having to work to avoid hooking even smaller fish striking at the small spoon lure I was using. Eventually, though, I hooked one deep; the fish swallowed the entire lure! Now I figured I would have some fish for lunch as well. I quickly caught a second golden about 9 inches in length. After cleaning the fish, I broke out the lightweight mess kit frying pan, oil, salt, pepper, and powdered lemon grass, and fired up my single burner stove. I have never had such fresh fish, literally swimming less than 30 minutes before. The flesh was white, delicate, and very mild tasting. I hadn’t wanted to catch and kill any fish, but there were so many fish in these upper Kern Basin lakes, so few predators, and so little food, that I figured taking a few fish would only have a positive effect on the quality of fish in the lake.
My First Golden Trout.jpg
I was finally packed up and back on the trail at 3:30. I passed the southern trail junction to the JMT around the middle of the lake that I had stopped at and then at the next unnamed lake, I got to guess which of the rock cairns to believe. I chose poorly as a use trail petered out, and I had to backtrack to get back on the actual trail to Lake South America. At the third of three unnamed lakes at 11,280 feet, I saw a buck and doe gliding along the far shore of the lake, disappearing among the stubby trees and crossing over a small ripple in the landscape. I finally reached the unnamed tarn at the second JMT trail junction where I took the left fork down to Lake South America, and my God, it was stark and so beautiful.
Lake South America.jpg
Little tufts of flowers and non-flowering plants poked up through the sand and gravel soil along the west shore of the lake, while Caltech Peak soared high above the eastern shore. It was 6:00, and the sun had already started to drop below the Western Divide mountain range, as I set up camp near the lake. After organizing my home for the night, I went down to the lake shore to filter some water, wash my clothes, and wash myself. Stripping down to my birthday suit, I stepped down into the lake which dropped off steeply from the shore to unknown depths. My feet slid to a stop in the sand when I was about waist depth in the ice cold water, and I began hurriedly rinsing my clothes, wringing them out, and tossing them back up on shore. Finally, done with my clothes, I took a couple of minutes to submerge myself and rinse off the day’s dust and sweat. By the time I made it out of the cold alpine waters, the cold had begun to seep into my body. I dried off as fast as I could and put on my dry clothes before heading back to the tent. Once back to camp, I put my puffy down jacket and balaclava on, before laying my damp clothes out on a large rock near the tent with a few small rocks to weigh them down just in case the wind picked up that night.

The shivering quickly stopped, and I was able to make some hot mashed potatoes for dinner before turning in for the night. Alpenglow on Caltech peak was my dinner show. Once in my tent, I snuggled under my down quilt, no open tent flaps tonight, as I wanted as much warmth as possible at 11,950 feet. Later that night, I made a bathroom visit, and was mesmerized by the stars above, seemingly brighter, clearer, and more numerous than ever. The landscape around me lit up in the ethereal light that they and the moon cast. The cold temperature drove me back to my tent and quilt, but I did not willingly leave the late night show going on above me.
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Lumbergh21
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

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Part 3
Western Divide from Lake SA.jpg
JMT Super-Highway (Day 5)

I awoke the next morning to condensation on the interior of my tent. I had camped on a lower ledge just above lake level rather than further up the slope in order to have some shelter from potential winds. What I got was a damp tent. Surprisingly, the clothes that I had rinsed and laid out the night before were fairly dry. I had breakfast and packed camp to head over to the JMT. I had thought about going off trail over Harrison Pass to Reflection Lake, but the south side looked tough enough that I didn’t like the idea of descending on the “difficult” north side of the pass by myself (I know now that I wasn’t actually looking at Harrison Pass). Instead, I decided to add about 12 miles to my trip and hike over to the JMT so I could cross the Kern/Kings Divide on trail, going over Forester Pass.

After about 30 minutes, I had passed the tarn where I turned off to Lake South America and had reached the top of a small ridge where I had wonderful views of a high valley spreading out below me. After descending down into the valley, the trail cut through a land of rock and tufts of grass and flowers. The grass was spongey and combined with the lack of trees made me think of the far north. Every time I looked out over this high valley, I expected to see a herd of Caribou, but there were none, of course. Still the lonely beauty of the place filled my heart and soul with joy and with sadness mixed in with a feeling of contentment that would come and go. Those words don’t really describe the feeling, but it’s the closest I can come. It was a feeling similar to the one I had last year while hiking by myself around Lake Wanda on the JMT. It was beautiful, and I enjoyed the scenery, was awed by it in fact. Yet, I also felt a sense of sadness, and I don’t know why. I have opined on it before, but my past thoughts that the vastness of the place magnifies my own insignificance, that the beauty is a reminder of the ugliness that men have brought to so many other natural wonders, neither of those really ring true to me, at least not now.
SE From Ridge Near Lake SA.jpg
Plateau SE of Lake SA.jpg
Plateau SE of Lake SA (2).jpg
I continued down the trail and shortly spied the JMT and Tyndal Creek below me. I was soon heading north on the JMT and meeting many hikers along the way. Men and women who were coming to the end of what for many would likely be the best two or three weeks of hiking they had ever done and possibly the two or three best weeks of their lives. Boy, were there a bunch of them. I passed three people headed north like me on the way to Forester Pass and passed 20 more headed the other way in under three hours. That’s more than I had met in the entire 3½ days of hiking up to that point.
JMT North To Forester Pass.jpg
As it got close to noon, coming down the north side of Forester Pass, I saw many more people, so many that I quit counting. I was growing tired of the punishing downhill hiking over the rocks and my knees were letting me really know what they thought of this hiking thing. They were very unkind in their opinions as my knees frequently have been and more so as they have grown older. I finally stopped at one of the large camp sites along Bubbs Creek for my lunch and afternoon rest break. The creek had plenty of water flow and plenty moss as well. The camp site was a far cry from the more isolated spots I had stopped at earlier in the hike, and it didn’t even offer a hot spring, just a useless bear box! I filtered water and had my classic lunch of luke warm mashed potatoes. I came to the realization my second morning on the trail that one 4 oz. fuel canister really wasn’t enough for the amount of food I had brought along with me and I had started conserving as much as I could. That meant no heating water all the way to boiling for rehydrating potatoes and cooking couscous and worst of all, no morning coffee!
Panorama From Forester Pass.jpg
I cut my lunch break shorter than normal and got away from the civilization of that camp site. My attitude was growing dark, and I realized it soon enough to make an adjustment before it consumed me. An hour or so later, I saw one of the saddest things you can ever see while hiking, a hiker who was in distress, a hiker not enjoying the trail and the wilderness. I saw a middle aged oriental lady literally dragging her trekking poles up the trail behind her, trudging onward, probably having one of the worst times of her life. I wanted to do something, but I didn’t know what I could do? What is proper etiquette in that sort of situation? Just offer a smile and a cheerful hello? Ask if there’s anything I can do to help? Offer to carry her pack for her awhile? What I did was to simply walk on down the trail. As I continued on, I noticed that she had been dragging those poles for quite some time. The tracks ran for over a mile further down the trail.

I reached the Cedar Grove Trail Junction a little before 5 PM, and there were at least 30 people camped at the camping areas on the JMT and Cedar Grove Trail near the junction. Tent City was no longer my scene. After a short hike down to the creek to refill my water, I continued on down the Cedar Grove Trail as the sun set, I thought I had found a small but flat site between the trail and the creek, and I started setting up camp. As I was pitching my tarp tent, I noticed some ants, then I noticed more, finally I noticed the several small holes at this flat level spot. An ant hill has never been my scene.
View Along Bubbs Creek.jpg
As I descended further into the forest and the sun descended below the tops of the canyon walls above me, I was on the lookout for any decent site to pitch my tent and wondering how I would do hiking at night. Just before it would have been too dark to make camp without a headlamp, I came across a packers camp site. I know it was a packers camp site by all of the horse sh**. I did find a clear spot to pitch my tent near the fire ring and ate a cold dinner of trail mix, a granola bar, and ginger chews. Too many trees this night to have a good view of the night sky.
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by cgundersen »

Hi Lumbergh,
Great report! I think the dearth of folks commenting reflects the fact that a large # of HST folks were at or were trying to reach this year's "meet up" near Arrow Peak. Nevertheless, your route evoked memories of the sights that led to my first backpacking trip in the Sierra: namely, the view one gets looking East from the area near Moro rock. That whole stretch from Wolverton/Crescent Meadow in to Hamilton Lake and over Kaweah gap into the Big Arroyo is permanently etched into some circuit in my brain and I have re-traced those steps several times both in reality and in memory. And, even though I think you might have loved a chance to get down to Lake Reflection, those cross country passes along the northern rim of the Kern basin are downright wicked on the descents. I always plan trips to go UP those passes, never down. Further testimony to the perils of descending those routes are contained in several posts made by other forum members. Reading them will convince you that you made the right choice........no point in developing the long face of the beleaguered backpacker you encountered, or worse. At least you know how far 4 oz of propane goes! cameron
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by kpeter »

Beautiful report, artfully written, pretty photographs. Inspirational for me right before I set out on my own adventure!
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by slowhiker »

Thanks for the great writing and for sharing your adventure. My wife and I did the High Sierra Trail 3 years ago and it was a great trip and your report reminded me of some good memories.. This year our plan is to do the Circle of Solitude, so your detail about getting to Lake South America provided useful insight.
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by Lumbergh21 »

Sorry for the delay in putting together the rest of the report, I was out on an overnight hike in the Trinities to Bear, Little Bear, and Wee Bear Lakes. Need to catch up on a few things but I hope to get the rest up on Monday.
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Lumbergh21
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by Lumbergh21 »

Part 3

Up, Up, Up, and Away (Day 6)
I got up and got on the trail headed down towards Roads End. Roads End was a bail-out option for this hike, and I can’t lie, I was thinking about it. Things hadn't gone as planned yesterday, and I wasn't sure if I would make it out in time to make my plans for my second week a reality. As it turned out, I had camped just a few hundred yards up trail from the East Lake Trail Junction; the spot where I would have joined the Cedar Grove Trail if I had gone over Harrison Pass the day before. This meant that I was in good position to finish on Saturday like I had planned and allow me to re-supply and re-enter the Sierra for another week. That made my decision an easy one.

I met a lot of clean, fresh smelling hikers coming the other way from Roads End. I don’t imagine I smelled nearly as sweet. I hadn’t even rinsed my clothes or myself the prior day; Bubbs Creek was so slimed over that I think I and my clothes would have been dirtier after getting in that water. I turned left and headed up and over the Sphinx at Sphinx Creek, leaving behind the crowds of fresh smelling hikers and having a trail all to myself again. I slowly made my way up, up, and up some more, climbing from 6,280 feet above sea level at the trail junction up to 10,110 feet at Avalanche Pass. I stopped along the way for an all too brief lunch break and to refill my water bottles. As I got higher, the trail switched from the steep mountain pitches I had started on to gradual climbing through a forest. Avalanche Pass itself was simply a flat spot in a sparse forest before I started heading back down towards Roaring River Ranger Station. A mile or so after crossing the pass, I came to some open views of the canyon below and the mountains to the west and south.
The Trail Headed Up The Sphinx.jpg
I descended down into the canyon, fillng my water bottles at a stream crossing a few miles from the bottom of the canyon but bypassing the nearby camp site, figuring there would be more further down. Uh, yeah. I arrived at Morraine Meadows, which was flat with large trees but the ground was not conducive to camping, a mixture of powdery soil and large rocks. As a result, I just kept going and going and going. I finally pulled into Roaring River Ranger Station shortly after the sun set below the mountains surrounding me. I rinsed my socks, washed my feet and filtered some water as fast as I could. I still ended up making dinner after dark and crawling into my tent after a long day on trail. I could see a small patch of sky above me through the big trees, but no shooting stars tonight.

The Penultimate Day (Day 7)

When I got up the next morning, it looked like I had possibly made camp somewhere I wasn’t supposed to. Oh, well, I also discovered that I was the only one at Roaring River Ranger Station, no other hikers, no ranger. Two people I had met the previous afternoon near Avalanche Pass said that they had only seen two others at Roaring River. I went down to the stream to rinse out my clothes from the day before and filter some water. The stream wasn’t all that inviting to wash myself, though, cold and slimy (the creek, I was dry and dusty). It was another cold breakfast, and I was back on the trail headed for Silliman Pass and Twin Lakes below it to the southwest. It was just another 21 miles back to the car.

I passed up getting water at the first couple stream crossings, as I still had plenty, and the map showed several stream crossings ahead (foreshadowing). I wasn’t sweating or drinking much in the cool morning air.

I eventually started climbing along Sugarloaf Creek towards Belle Canyon, and by this time, I had under 1L of water left. At the beginning of the climb, I went down to the creek near a camp site, but it didn’t look all that good. So, I passed. Later I wished that I hadn’t. There was no water at any of the crossings shown on the map, and I was getting thirsty (the horror!). I knew that worse case scenario, I could get water at Ranger Lake, which was only about 5 miles away; so I wasn’t worried, just angry with myself for not filling up when I had the opportunity. Then, at the trail junction to Ranger Lake, I crossed Sugarloaf Creek again, and this time there was water in it. I gulped down about 1L myself and left with another 1.5L in my two bottles.

I continued to drink at will as the trail slowly rose up towards Ranger Lake and Beville Lake. I took the short spur trail up to Ranger Lake, where I paused to read all of the rules for camping at the lake before I went down to the lake and filtered some more water. I had no intention of going thirsty on my way up to Silliman Pass. I also had no intention of stopping for lunch at Ranger Lake. The lake level was low with no water flowing out. It was not as picturesque of a place as I had become used to over the past several days. As I climbed up and the trees grew sparser, the views grew grander. I was feeling a little low on energy and decided this was a good spot to stop and have some warm mashed potatoes and zipp fizz drink. It was breezy, so I set up my stove among some rocks, using my gear to create more of a wind break. The views were inspiring, looking back towards Beville Lake and a small glen south of the rock out crop I was on. After resting for a bit, I packed up and continued on in the right direction, except I thought It was the wrong direction, so I turned around and headed back in the wrong direction, which I figured out after about 15 minutes, at which point I started cursing myself and headed back in the right direction, which was the right direction. Now that I had thoroughly placed my footprints in the sandy soil among the rocks on the east side of Silliman Pass, I was ready to cross over the pass.
Eastern View Below Silliman Pass.jpg
I made the pass at 5:00 PM, definitely too late to hike back to my car and drive somewhere to shower and sleep for the night. I went down the steep descent, arriving at Twin Lakes around 6:00, and just as I ran out of water again. I took the first tent site that presented itself to me, well away from the sites near the outlet and the outhouse. After filtering some more water, I went back to my site and started setting up when I saw a young man down at the lakeshore. I shouted out a hello, and he came over to talk for a bit. He made the total of number of people that I had seen that day six. After about 30 minutes of chatting, I started my dinner of couscous. I got all of the couscous down and had 5 ginger chews for dessert. I was left with about 4 oz. of trail mix, ¼ bag of instant mashed potatoes, 15 ginger chews, a granola bar, and some coffee for the next morning. Looks like I packed just about right with only an easy seven miles to go the next day. I settled in for the evening and enjoyed one last night under the beautiful Sierra night skies.

Back to Civilization (Day 8)

I took it easy in the morning, not getting out of my tent until almost 8:00 AM. I made myself a cup of coffee (no need to save fuel now) and packed up. It was the Labor Day weekend, and in addition to the dozen or so people already camped near the lake outlet, I saw over a dozen more hiking in as I was hiking out. That’s the way I like it. I really hate seeing that full parking lot when I’m headed in. The short easy climb up to Cahoon Gap wasn’t worth mentioning, but there I go mentioning it anyway. The rest of the way was downhill.

About 3 miles from the parking lot, who do I see but Leeann, the ranger who was so nice to reboot her computer and issue me my permit after the Wilderness desk was already closed and she was off duty. We both said hi, and she asked me how my hike had been. I was surprised that she remembered me, but I guess there aren’t too many people coming up to the desk right after it has been closed with tales of woe about hiking around a road closure to get there. Nonetheless, it was quite the surprise to see her at the end of my hike. I got back to my car at 10:30 and decided to bypass paying for a shower at Lodgepole and instead head back to the valley with a plan of getting a room and resupplying for another week in the wilderness. Then I had cell reception, and the texts came pouring in.

I stopped at Squaw Valley (not The Squaw Valley) after leaving the park and checked my messages while I got a drink and some chips to snack on. My wife had texted me about our Chocolate Lab, Cocoa. She had found Cocoa as a stray about 14 years ago, which based on the vet’s estimate of Cocoa’s age at the time, made her 15, old for a Lab. Cocoa had been eating very little for months and was now very thin. Her hearing was iffy, and she appeared to be completely blind. Two years earlier, I found that she could no longer go on hikes with me, and one year ago she struggled to even make it 2 miles on flat terrain. My wife and I both knew that Cocoa was coming to the end of her life. My wife’s texts were from that morning, letting me know that Cocoa had stopped eating entirely on Friday and that I needed to get home immediately.

I called my wife and told her that I would be home as soon as possible. I did stop to get some food at Wendy’s along the way and some gas for the car. Otherwise, the only stops I made were for traffic accidents. There were three on Highway 99 between Fresno and Galt. The civilized world was testing my patience, immediately. I didn’t make it home until 9:00 PM. Being as it was Labor Day weekend, there wasn’t much we could do to try to ease cocoa’s pain until Tuesday when I contacted a vet that made house calls. Wednesday morning, September 6, 2016, Cocoa took her final breaths, and was laid to rest in my mother-in-law’s backyard beneath a rose bush.

Cocoa was full of life, a puppy for over 10 years. She wouldn’t heel; there was too much to do and see. She would come when called then immediately take off again on the trail of some wonderful scent. Saying “Squirrel” in her presence was a mistake, especially for the person who had her leash (kinda’ funny for the other person, though). She was loving and faithful. Always there when you were feeling down and needed an understanding ear and a head to scratch. There was something behind those eyes that said “I understand”. No matter if you yelled at her, No matter what you said. She would forgive you. In short, she was a dog, pure of heart, understanding, faithful to the end.
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toejam
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by toejam »

This is a good read. You did some big days.

Funny that I also had an epiphany of sorts hiking the JMT in 2015 and then cut my big trip in 2016 short. But another adventure looms in the very near future.

See ya on the trail!
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Re: My High Sierra Loop, Aug 27 - Sept 1, 2016

Post by Lumbergh21 »

I'll be heading out in two weeks, August 15, on a 17 day hike starting in Reds Meadow that will include some off trail hiking as well. I've done a little off trail stuff in the Trinity Alps since last August and enjoyed it 2 out of 3 times. Looking forward to a bit of an adventure in the Sierra with only a loose itinerary of places to hit, a wish list of sorts. The plan is to hike big miles if I feel like it or small miles/no miles, if I really like a place and don't want to leave. Hiker buckets at MTR and the little store and hiker buckets at VVR will be resupply points.
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