Part I: Introduction and Leavitt Meadow to Mary Lake.
Sometimes all the stars align and backpacking trips exceed our most sanguine expectations. For example, how could one expect to spend 5 days in Emigrant Wilderness with minimal mosquito harassment, experience outstanding wildflower blooms during a super dry year, or have wildfires burning north and south and yet have relatively clear air? So many things went right on this trip they swamped the usual issues that popped up, including equipment failures, and one comical wrong turn on a trail. The trip had a mix of peak bagging (first time for my daughter, Dawn), off trail route brainstorming, major itinerary revisions during the trip (I love improvising), uniquely varied scenery, breathtaking wildflowers, and possibly the best overall fishing I've experienced on a backpacking trip (comparable to or exceeding the Tunechuck 2008 epic). And this trip was physically easier than any extended (say ≥5 days) backpacking trip I've done, which meant more moments to relax and enjoy the wonders of the Sierran wilderness.
Since becoming an academic (2005), I've lost the flexibility to do long fall trips, and I avoided Emigrant Wilderness because as one of those mosquito-magnet people (my family, including daughter and ace backpacking buddy Dawn, is similarly cursed) I figured I'd wait until I was retired and head up there in September or October someday. This year, as I planned my one long backpacking trip, I figured I couldn't resist visiting the largest part of the Sierra I hadn't hiked in yet, especially since it included places legendary for producing exceptionally large fish. I fretted that so little of the planned route was off trail and was haunted by the vision of clouds of mosquitoes.
The lead-up issues connected with wilderness permit acquisition actually led to a better trip. Issues? There are some odd restrictions for trips originating/entering via Emigrant Wilderness which include: (a) trip cannot exceed 7 nights (I wanted 8), and (b) a trip originating in Emigrant Wilderness cannot enter adjacent wilderness areas (weird). I had planned to do the trip out of Leavitt Lake, but the rules caused me to change plans an enter via Hoover Wilderness and Leavitt Meadow. The planned nights as of when we left the trailhead were: Fremont Lake, Dorothy Lake, Mary Lake, Tilden Lake, Black Bear Lake, Huckleberry Lake, Emigrant Lake, High Emigrant L with no layover days and a super long ~16 mile hike to the trailhead on the final day. Many audibles were called during the trip with the net result of cutting out two of the above-planned destinations and reducing the hiking distances. In keeping with tradition, the fishing part of this story will be told asynchronously after the chronologic narrative that follows.
Day 1 7/13 Leavitt Meadow to campsite above south end of Fremont L. (8.2 mi, 1974' gain, 862' loss; ~0.2 mi off trail. GPS-based distance and elevation gain/loss data given herein are for the hiking with pack. dayhiking distances are not included)
Similar to 2020, Dawn and I teamed up with my old hiking buddy, Todd who met us at Leavitt Meadow at about 1030 am on 7/13. I was surprised at how quick the drive was from the East Bay: 3 hr 20 min. It got me thinking about future dayhikes and overnighters out of this or nearby trailheads. The temperatures were warm as forecast (high forecast to be high 80s at Leavitt Mdw and low 80s at Fremont Lake for 7/13) but they were balanced by a consistently stiff breeze as we charged over the bridge (over the W Walker R) and headed up the trail. Although I had seen a blanket of smoke over the Sierra as I drove up that morning, the view south and upstream to Tower Peak was only mildly hazy.
The hike stirred some long dormant memories. I had only once hiked past Lane Lake from Leavitt Meadow, and that was in 1987 to Tower Lake (a trip to climb Tower Peak with my dad), yet the scenes and surroundings as I hiked beyond Lane Lake seemed so familiar. It was a bit spooky. How could those 1987 memories come back so vividly? In the meantime, we noticed some trail features in the area that made hiking a bit more difficult than one might plan for. First is that although the net elevation gain for long reaches of trail is low to moderate, many short portions of trail are quite steep and the height of the waterbars are quite inconvenient. Second, there are a lot more places with elevation loss on an otherwise ascending route than might be guessed by the trace of the trails on various topo maps. Todd verified the distressingly large amount of elevation loss with his GPS app to CalTopo; his mileage and elevation gain estimates for full pack travel are given for each day. Third, there are lots of well-developed trails that aren't shown on maps and commonly not signed at various trail junctions, either.
The finding of the trail junction to Fremont Lake was actually difficult owing to the splitting of the trail into a stock trail that crosses the W. Walker and a hikers trail that does not. The actual trail junction is off of the stock trail but we didn't know this based on the maps we had (I had the 2017 Tom Harrison Hoover Wilderness and Todd had a National Geographic topo map of the region; the 2002 Tom Harrison Emigrant Wilderness map I did not carry does in fact show the two trails). At one point we searched for a crossing of the river and crossed on a big log jam, then clambered over a bunch of fallen timber and other obstacles to reach the stock trail. It is a good thing Todd spotted the trail junction sign a bit downstream as I was thinking of following the stock trail upstream. What would have happened had we continued to follow the "hiker" trail upstream? I'm not sure. In any case, we found the final trail ascent to Fremont Lake a lot steeper than one would surmise by looking at topo maps. It was quite a grunt at the end of the day.
As usual, to reduce mosquito issues we looked for a campsite as high above the lake as possible and found a reasonably high camping spot above the south end of the lake. It was a long way to go to get to place to fetch water with my folding water bucket but I'm pretty accustomed to hauling water a long way to campsites. Two other groups were camped at the lake, both much closer to shore where the mosquitoes were much more intense. We had seen but one solitary hiker en route, one campsite (at the Hidden Lake trail junction), and encountered a pack train that was descending from Fremont L. We found wood-fringed and wind-whipped Fremont Lake reasonably attractive but we eagerly awaited the higher altitudes and cooler temperatures promised on the second day.
Day 2. Fremont L to campsite on above south shore of Dorothy Lake (8.8 mi, 2125' gain, 963' loss; off trail ~1.5 mi). This looked to be the most strenuous day of the trip. I had figured on something in excess of 10 mi based on various maps. As we did each morning of the trip, we kickstarted our day with oatmeal, hot chocolate and the caffeine-laced mint chocolate chip Clif Bar. We headed up the unofficial, but well-developed, trail heading south from Fremont L. and soon rejoined the official trail that bounced up and down past the Chain of Lakes to intersect the PCT just beyond Upper Long Lake.
We saw no one until we reached the PCT but now we met folks at regular intervals. Nearly everyone we met was headed north except for a group that was more locally-directed, headed south, and looking to base camp at Harriet Lake. At Harriet Lake I was misdirected by a use trail near the crossing of the outlet and was hiking on the east side of the lake when Todd suggested that we needed to backtrack to the outlet to find the real trail. This presaged a far more egregious error later in the trip. Once back on the trail, a short ascent brought us to a place where we could see Bonnie Lake below and north of the trail. We dropped our packs and hiked down to relax a bit at Bonnie. Being so close to the bustling PCT, I expected a "trailside" sort of used appearance to the lake but we found very little evidence of human presence there. It is amazing what 0.2 mi of off trail distance can do. While at Bonnie Lake, I reapplied sunscreen and the tube ruptured a bit below the cap. I didn't realize at the time that this leak was another "foreshadowing" of sorts.
After taking our little break at Bonnie L., we strode back to our packs, hopped back on the PCT freeway, then exited at Dorothy Lake Pass, hiking off trail into Yosemite (Dorothy Pass is at the Hoover Wilderness-Yosemite boundary) to gain our usual "high ground" campsite probably 60' of elevation above the lake. I did the usual long haul to bring water back to the camp. I told Dawn that the bucket hauls were my replacement for the strength training I was missing on this trip. Later in the evening I noticed the water level had dropped in the water bucket and found that it had a slow leak. Not a surprise, I suppose, for this bucket was at least 30 years old. It didn't leak fast enough to be a real problem, but the leak theme for the trip did not conclude with this bucket. Although there was certainly evidence of past camping on the south shore, including some old horse poop near our campsite, we saw no one there, while we could occasionally hear voices on the distant PCT across the big lake.
Day 3. Dorothy Lake to Mary Lake (all off trail 5.0 miles, 1430' gain, 1224' loss). The eagerly-awaited (for me and Todd, at least) off trail trek to Mary Lake from Dorothy Lake followed the off trail principle of "staying greedy" about elevation unless the terrain dictates otherwise. The planned route "wrapped around the corner" southward into the west-flowing drainage between Forsyth Peak and Keyes Peak, then aimed for the pass between Keyes Peak and Saurian Crest. Sidehill off trail hiking can be difficult, depending on brush, boulder fields, small gullies, etc., and we were prepared to drop into Jack Main canyon if necessary, but in this case "staying greedy" worked and we maintained elevation nicely and turned the corner into the pleasant drainage between Forsyth and Keyes. During the sidehill hike to the drainage we were struck by richness of the wildflower displays, something we had noticed earlier around Dorothy Lake.
At the stream we took a hydration break. Dawn really enjoys being able to drink directly (ie instead of filtering) out of streams like this; I too have long considered this one of the pleasures of backcountry hiking.
Following the water break we trudged up to the pass, then did a somewhat tedious (crossing lots of small ridges and gullies) sidehill traverse to the SE ("staying greedy") to reach a point where we could easily follow a bench to a campsite above the outlet of Mary Lake. Rounding the corner to Mary provided amazing (and clear) views downstream to Tilden and the mid elevation domeland downstream of it, and across Tilden Creek to the mighty Tower Peak and the summits south of it (Craig and Snow Peaks).
The relatively short hiking day gave us plenty of time to enjoy the alpine surroundings of Mary Lake. Although below 10000' (elev 9619) the alpine granite-girded appearance of Mary Lake and its surroundings resemble that of places such as Upper Mills Creek L. or Bear Basin area lakes at elevations in the 11000' range.
During the course of this day as well as the previous one, Todd and I had decided on several major changes to the trip plan. Day 4 had been planned as a short hike down to Tilden Lake, but we felt this pushed a long Day 5 to head up Jack Main Canyon to eventually reach Snow, Bigelow, and Black Bear Lake. Accordingly, we figured we could cut out the original day 4 and head directly for Bigelow Lake using the off trail past east of it. This would gain us an extra day which could be applied to shorten the long last day (High Emigrant to Leavitt Meadow); we now planned the last night for Cinko Lake, which looked to be about 12.5 mi or so from trailhead. Todd also reminded me that the direct off trail route to Bigelow Lake looked easy topographically and this would seem to save a lot of distance compared to taking the trail up Jack Main Canyon then going over Bond Pass and splitting off to Snow and then Bigelow.
TR 7/13-21 Hoover-Emigrant-Yosemite lunker lollipop
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TR 7/13-21 Hoover-Emigrant-Yosemite lunker lollipop
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Hoosemitegrant Part II. Mary Lake to Bigelow Lake.
Day 4 Mary Lake to Bigelow Lake (all off trail, 5.4 mi 1868' gain. 1898' loss).
We awoke to find smoke had choked the valley downstream of Tilden and the brown curtain was rapidly advancing up the canyon toward us. By the time we left Mary, things had gotten pretty thick. From the first day there had been smoky aromas, particularly in the morning, and smoke had probably provoked/aggravated several exercise-induced asthma attacks, but until this day the sightlines had been only mildly hazy. I picked a much more efficient route back to the pass and the air became less smoky as we crested out and headed down to Jack Main canyon. The climb up the other side out of Yosemite and into Emigrant Wilderness to Bigelow Lake was easy (class 1) and straightforward. Climbing to the pass also coincided with a marked change in scenery related to the change in bedrock geology from granitic rocks around Dorothy and Mary Lakes to the metamorphic rocks of the Snow Lake roof pendant. The rich colors of the bedrock contrasting with the dark blue lakes and rich green trees and shrubs are similar to the region around Convict Canyon. At the pass, I was struck by the imposing appearance of the unnamed peak west of Bigelow Peak that rose directly above Bigelow Lake. To the north we could see the type of granite dome and woods sort of terrain one normally expects in Emigrant Wilderness and further north still, the transition to the odd ragged moonscape associated with the younger volcanic rocks that drape over the granitic and metamorphic rocks. As we reached the shore of Bigelow Lake we saw a guy flycasting from a green-colored raft not far off the shore. He was the first person we'd seen since we were hiking on the PCT on the 2nd day. He mentioned that he and his buddy were on their fourth day in Emigrant Wilderness without catching a fish, apparently in stark contrast to their usual results at the lakes they'd fished. I recall he mentioned something about being camped near the outlet of the lake but we never saw their camp. We camped on the top of the low ridge that bounds the lake on its north side at a position fairly close to the outlet. Our campsite afforded terrific two-day views: north we saw into and across the adjacent canyon and to the south we could see across Bigelow Lake to rounded Bigelow Peak and the more impressive dark gray tower to its west.
As Todd and Dawn relaxed at the lake, I took a short dayhike over to Snow Lake. The trail there, shown on some maps, doesn't really exist. There are only short reaches where anything resembles a path, but the off trail walking is pleasant and over really varied and interesting metamorphic rocks. The pass SW of Snow Lake has several alternative gaps, and the one I passed through actually held some small snow patches, which proved to be the only snow any of walked across on the entire trip. Snow Lake had some stunning patches of wildflowers including an unusual combination of tiger lilies and epilobium between the main lake and the pond to the NW of the main lake. The path from Snow Lake toward Bigelow Lake was traceable from the southwestern shore up to the gap, although much of it was rather overgrown. Some of the overgrown stretches seemed like tunnels through a forest of lupine and paintbrush; truly breathtaking. During the hike to Snow Lake I noticed an ominous "eruption" of a pyrocumulus cloud to the north. I figured it was somewhere north of Kennedy Meadow--this was apparently the early stage of the Tamarack Fire that would eventually overrun 395. Upon my return Todd asked if I had seen the cloud which was also visible from Bigelow Lake. During the hike to Bigelow Lake Dawn had wondered about whether our schedule allowed for a layover day. The warming temperatures caused me to seriously consider that alternative. As warm as it was at around 9600', I dreaded descending to ~7850' to Huckleberry Lake and then having to ascend from there to Emigrant Lake the next day. Todd was similarly not enthused about descending to hot weather and potential mosquito hell. Up to this point mosquitoes had been very mild with the exception of some moderate annoyance the first evening at Fremont Lake. It did not take us long to decide in favor of an additional night at our beautiful campsite at Bigelow Lake. In the meantime, Dawn asked if it might be possible to clamber up and summit or two, so we combined the two requests: we could climb Bigelow Peak and the unnamed peak to its west on our layover day.
We awoke to find smoke had choked the valley downstream of Tilden and the brown curtain was rapidly advancing up the canyon toward us. By the time we left Mary, things had gotten pretty thick. From the first day there had been smoky aromas, particularly in the morning, and smoke had probably provoked/aggravated several exercise-induced asthma attacks, but until this day the sightlines had been only mildly hazy. I picked a much more efficient route back to the pass and the air became less smoky as we crested out and headed down to Jack Main canyon. The climb up the other side out of Yosemite and into Emigrant Wilderness to Bigelow Lake was easy (class 1) and straightforward. Climbing to the pass also coincided with a marked change in scenery related to the change in bedrock geology from granitic rocks around Dorothy and Mary Lakes to the metamorphic rocks of the Snow Lake roof pendant. The rich colors of the bedrock contrasting with the dark blue lakes and rich green trees and shrubs are similar to the region around Convict Canyon. At the pass, I was struck by the imposing appearance of the unnamed peak west of Bigelow Peak that rose directly above Bigelow Lake. To the north we could see the type of granite dome and woods sort of terrain one normally expects in Emigrant Wilderness and further north still, the transition to the odd ragged moonscape associated with the younger volcanic rocks that drape over the granitic and metamorphic rocks. As we reached the shore of Bigelow Lake we saw a guy flycasting from a green-colored raft not far off the shore. He was the first person we'd seen since we were hiking on the PCT on the 2nd day. He mentioned that he and his buddy were on their fourth day in Emigrant Wilderness without catching a fish, apparently in stark contrast to their usual results at the lakes they'd fished. I recall he mentioned something about being camped near the outlet of the lake but we never saw their camp. We camped on the top of the low ridge that bounds the lake on its north side at a position fairly close to the outlet. Our campsite afforded terrific two-day views: north we saw into and across the adjacent canyon and to the south we could see across Bigelow Lake to rounded Bigelow Peak and the more impressive dark gray tower to its west.
As Todd and Dawn relaxed at the lake, I took a short dayhike over to Snow Lake. The trail there, shown on some maps, doesn't really exist. There are only short reaches where anything resembles a path, but the off trail walking is pleasant and over really varied and interesting metamorphic rocks. The pass SW of Snow Lake has several alternative gaps, and the one I passed through actually held some small snow patches, which proved to be the only snow any of walked across on the entire trip. Snow Lake had some stunning patches of wildflowers including an unusual combination of tiger lilies and epilobium between the main lake and the pond to the NW of the main lake. The path from Snow Lake toward Bigelow Lake was traceable from the southwestern shore up to the gap, although much of it was rather overgrown. Some of the overgrown stretches seemed like tunnels through a forest of lupine and paintbrush; truly breathtaking. During the hike to Snow Lake I noticed an ominous "eruption" of a pyrocumulus cloud to the north. I figured it was somewhere north of Kennedy Meadow--this was apparently the early stage of the Tamarack Fire that would eventually overrun 395. Upon my return Todd asked if I had seen the cloud which was also visible from Bigelow Lake. During the hike to Bigelow Lake Dawn had wondered about whether our schedule allowed for a layover day. The warming temperatures caused me to seriously consider that alternative. As warm as it was at around 9600', I dreaded descending to ~7850' to Huckleberry Lake and then having to ascend from there to Emigrant Lake the next day. Todd was similarly not enthused about descending to hot weather and potential mosquito hell. Up to this point mosquitoes had been very mild with the exception of some moderate annoyance the first evening at Fremont Lake. It did not take us long to decide in favor of an additional night at our beautiful campsite at Bigelow Lake. In the meantime, Dawn asked if it might be possible to clamber up and summit or two, so we combined the two requests: we could climb Bigelow Peak and the unnamed peak to its west on our layover day.
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giantbrookie
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Hoosemitegrant Part III. Layover at Bigelow Lake
Day 5 Dawn's first peaks. (peak climbing part about 3 miles and 1400' of gain and loss)
Inspecting the topo maps as well as analyzing what I could see, I decided that the easiest approach would be to retrace our route to the pass east of the lake then follow the easy ridge south to Bigelow Peak. From there we'd continue on to the more challenging-looking peak to the west, then descend to the saddle between the peaks to descend scree slopes directly back to Bigelow Lake. I told Dawn and Todd that Bigelow appeared easy but the attractive peak to the west might end up being too sketchy for us. The climb to Bigelow was indeed a simple class 1 walk up with lots of false summits. A small register had been placed by the Sierra Peak Section a year ago: it was a small notebook, with a pencil and a pencil sharpener, inside a jalapeno pepper jar. Dawn was overjoyed to sign her first summit register. The view was a fine one including many of the local lakes, peaks northward to the Leavitt Peak area, eastward to Tower Peak and associates, southward to Tuolumne Peak, Mt Hoffman and the Cathedral Range and still further south to Mts.Ritter, Banner, Lyell, Maclure, and Florence. The view was slightly hazy and we could only imagine how much nicer the view would be if clear. After a short snack we headed for the more attractive and challenging peak to the west. I didn't choose the easiest route, because it looked like there was a big step in the knife-edged summit ridge, so I thought I could work some ledges on the north side and keep things at class 2. Instead we ended up doing a few short class 3 moves, including one that was reasonably athletic ("medium" class 3 in my book). Todd was a bit concerned about having to descend that route, but on the summit it was clear that I could find an easier way down. Dawn was also a bit sketched out by the class 3, but we all enjoyed the summit which we found much more fulfilling than the rounded top of Bigelow. It turned out that knife edge could be descended without any class 3 and we soon reached the saddle and peered down the steep scree slopes to the lake. Just before reaching the saddle there was a short scree section where I showed Dawn the joys of "scree skiing". Scree torments on ascents but gives back on descents. The scree slopes to the lake had sections where we had to go one at a time to get out each other's rockfall line, but we all had plenty of opportunities to entertain ourselves with some scree skiing and jumping before pausing at the bottom to empty the crud out of our boots. Once back at the lake, I refilled water and took a short hike to Black Bear Lake. Dawn and Todd followed and headed for the lake at about the time I was returning to Bigelow Lake. I heard their voices but somehow we didn't see each other. Back at camp I took the time to get a nice rinse off in the lake, rinse my socks (3rd time I'd done this on the trip), and give my salt-starched hiking shirt a rinse, too. To be sure the layover day had been rejuvenating.
The smoke versus cloud situation to the north was confusing. There was clearly smoke but it appeared genuine clouds were forming to the east as well and that a wet cycle was building.
The only negative to occur during our layover was that the "leak" theme returned in a more serious way---both Dawn's and my sleeping pads began to deflate under us that night. They retained enough air to offer some benefit to comfort, but we did not sleep as well the last three nights of the trip as we would have with fully inflated pads.
Inspecting the topo maps as well as analyzing what I could see, I decided that the easiest approach would be to retrace our route to the pass east of the lake then follow the easy ridge south to Bigelow Peak. From there we'd continue on to the more challenging-looking peak to the west, then descend to the saddle between the peaks to descend scree slopes directly back to Bigelow Lake. I told Dawn and Todd that Bigelow appeared easy but the attractive peak to the west might end up being too sketchy for us. The climb to Bigelow was indeed a simple class 1 walk up with lots of false summits. A small register had been placed by the Sierra Peak Section a year ago: it was a small notebook, with a pencil and a pencil sharpener, inside a jalapeno pepper jar. Dawn was overjoyed to sign her first summit register. The view was a fine one including many of the local lakes, peaks northward to the Leavitt Peak area, eastward to Tower Peak and associates, southward to Tuolumne Peak, Mt Hoffman and the Cathedral Range and still further south to Mts.Ritter, Banner, Lyell, Maclure, and Florence. The view was slightly hazy and we could only imagine how much nicer the view would be if clear. After a short snack we headed for the more attractive and challenging peak to the west. I didn't choose the easiest route, because it looked like there was a big step in the knife-edged summit ridge, so I thought I could work some ledges on the north side and keep things at class 2. Instead we ended up doing a few short class 3 moves, including one that was reasonably athletic ("medium" class 3 in my book). Todd was a bit concerned about having to descend that route, but on the summit it was clear that I could find an easier way down. Dawn was also a bit sketched out by the class 3, but we all enjoyed the summit which we found much more fulfilling than the rounded top of Bigelow. It turned out that knife edge could be descended without any class 3 and we soon reached the saddle and peered down the steep scree slopes to the lake. Just before reaching the saddle there was a short scree section where I showed Dawn the joys of "scree skiing". Scree torments on ascents but gives back on descents. The scree slopes to the lake had sections where we had to go one at a time to get out each other's rockfall line, but we all had plenty of opportunities to entertain ourselves with some scree skiing and jumping before pausing at the bottom to empty the crud out of our boots. Once back at the lake, I refilled water and took a short hike to Black Bear Lake. Dawn and Todd followed and headed for the lake at about the time I was returning to Bigelow Lake. I heard their voices but somehow we didn't see each other. Back at camp I took the time to get a nice rinse off in the lake, rinse my socks (3rd time I'd done this on the trip), and give my salt-starched hiking shirt a rinse, too. To be sure the layover day had been rejuvenating.
The smoke versus cloud situation to the north was confusing. There was clearly smoke but it appeared genuine clouds were forming to the east as well and that a wet cycle was building.
The only negative to occur during our layover was that the "leak" theme returned in a more serious way---both Dawn's and my sleeping pads began to deflate under us that night. They retained enough air to offer some benefit to comfort, but we did not sleep as well the last three nights of the trip as we would have with fully inflated pads.
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.
Since my fishing (etc.) website is still down, you can be distracted by geology stuff at: http://www.fresnostate.edu/csm/ees/facu ... ayshi.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
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giantbrookie
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Hoosemitegrant Part IV. Bigelow Lake to High Emigrant Lake
Day 6: Bigelow Lake to Emigrant Lake. (7.8 miles, 1226' gain, 1996' loss; including approximate 3 mile trail error; about 0.5 miles off trail) "Shoulda made that left turn at Albuquerque"
As the days seemed to get progressively warmer and the breeze less persistent, we left the comparatively high elevation of Bigelow Lake with some regret. We followed the trail down to Black Bear Lake, then took the knee-pounding steep trail down to Horse Meadow. For some reason my mind confused the two trails leading from Black Bear L. and I thought I needed to turn right at the trail junction in Horse Meadow instead of left. This error was further compounded by the fact that the trail we intersected was not the real trail but some packer's trail leading to this huge packer's camp upstream. In the meantime ,we had descended into classic Emigrant territory: granite slabs, woods, meadow, and clouds of mosquitoes. Unaware of my error I led us upstream. At some point we took a short pause as Todd, got into "body armor" (wearing lightweight jacket over his shirt for mosquito protection) and Dawn and I put on our mosquito net hats. After finding that my point and shoot camera case and straps corrupted the mosquito protection (by swinging open the net below my neck) I paused to put my camera in my pack. We marched steadily onward swatting as we went. At some point Todd realized the topography looked all wrong and we had hike way too far not to have intersected the trail leading to Maxwell and Emigrant Lakes. Under a cloud of mosquitoes, we pulled out our maps as Dawn continued to hike. We realized that I had spaced out and turned the wrong way upon reaching Horse Meadow. We would have to turn around. In the meantime, Dawn had charged ahead. We called to her but she didn't answer, so I dropped my pack and ran up the trail finally getting her ear and getting her to stop and turn around after I'd run a tenth of a mile or so.
Somewhat demoralized we retraced our path and also found the correct trail that led us toward the downstream end of Horse Meadow. We found the official intersection with the trail to Black Bear Lake unmarked. The same was true for the trail to Maxwell/Emigrant: no sign and the base of the trail is steep so that it could easily pass for a use trail of some sort. Todd's GPS records that my error cost us 3 extra miles and this was 3 miles hiked in the worst mosquitoes we'd encountered on the trip. Fortunately, the mosquito situation did not continue at that intensity level except for a brief stretch passing Maxwell Lake. We got into Emigrant Lake about an hour later than planned, but it was still early (1 pm). Clouds were forming and already heavy to the east. We hiked off trail west along the south shore to a superhighground site something like 100' in elevation above the shore--an extra-long water bucket haul but a really choice campsite. The big granite cliffs and slabs above big Emigrant Lake form the sort of the poster view of
Emigrant Wilderness; it is a majestic place. Although the big fire (Tamarack) burned north of us, the wind did not blow from that direction so the air stayed fairly clear.In the early evening a few drops of rain fell on us before the sky partially cleared. Day 7 Emigrant Lake to High Emigrant L (4.4 mi, 1219' gain, 397' loss; about 3.0 miles off trail)
A partly cloudy morning indicated that rain would probably begin early in the day. Fortunately we didn't have very far to hike. The trail from Blackbird Lake to Emigrant Meadow Lake is clear in some sections and vanishes in others. For some reason there are abundant ducks where the trail is clear and none where it gets obscure. The topography is obvious enough so that it following the trail is not a major concern. Nonetheless, after several on and off segments, when I saw a row of ducks along a well-defined trail segment I couldn't help but mutter "No sh-t, Sherlock". At Emigrant Meadow Lake we saw a fisherman spin fishing from a gray raft, the first person we'd seen since day 4 at Bigelow Lake. It began to rain steadily at Emigrant Meadow Lake and we hurriedly pitched camp not far from the N-S trail that passes High Emigrant Lake. At that time I had forgotten that this was NOT the PCT even though it is a far more appropriate route for a "Crest" trail, so I wondered why we weren't seeing the expected parade of hikers. As it turned out we saw no one that day nor the next along the trail or anywhere else in the area. High Emigrant and its surroundings showcased a very different sort of landscape from the other areas we had traversed. Here the Miocene volcanic bedrock is covered by very sparse vegetation and crowned by craggy highlands, giving a barren appearance, yet there are dense local patches of wildflowers such as the purple patches adjacent to the lake, which were made up primarily of low-growing lupines and magenta paintbrush. Locally, the underlying granite peeks through and it is generally deeply weathered. The higher altitude (~9700') , cloudy skies, and wind resulted in refreshingly cool temperatures.
As the days seemed to get progressively warmer and the breeze less persistent, we left the comparatively high elevation of Bigelow Lake with some regret. We followed the trail down to Black Bear Lake, then took the knee-pounding steep trail down to Horse Meadow. For some reason my mind confused the two trails leading from Black Bear L. and I thought I needed to turn right at the trail junction in Horse Meadow instead of left. This error was further compounded by the fact that the trail we intersected was not the real trail but some packer's trail leading to this huge packer's camp upstream. In the meantime ,we had descended into classic Emigrant territory: granite slabs, woods, meadow, and clouds of mosquitoes. Unaware of my error I led us upstream. At some point we took a short pause as Todd, got into "body armor" (wearing lightweight jacket over his shirt for mosquito protection) and Dawn and I put on our mosquito net hats. After finding that my point and shoot camera case and straps corrupted the mosquito protection (by swinging open the net below my neck) I paused to put my camera in my pack. We marched steadily onward swatting as we went. At some point Todd realized the topography looked all wrong and we had hike way too far not to have intersected the trail leading to Maxwell and Emigrant Lakes. Under a cloud of mosquitoes, we pulled out our maps as Dawn continued to hike. We realized that I had spaced out and turned the wrong way upon reaching Horse Meadow. We would have to turn around. In the meantime, Dawn had charged ahead. We called to her but she didn't answer, so I dropped my pack and ran up the trail finally getting her ear and getting her to stop and turn around after I'd run a tenth of a mile or so.
Somewhat demoralized we retraced our path and also found the correct trail that led us toward the downstream end of Horse Meadow. We found the official intersection with the trail to Black Bear Lake unmarked. The same was true for the trail to Maxwell/Emigrant: no sign and the base of the trail is steep so that it could easily pass for a use trail of some sort. Todd's GPS records that my error cost us 3 extra miles and this was 3 miles hiked in the worst mosquitoes we'd encountered on the trip. Fortunately, the mosquito situation did not continue at that intensity level except for a brief stretch passing Maxwell Lake. We got into Emigrant Lake about an hour later than planned, but it was still early (1 pm). Clouds were forming and already heavy to the east. We hiked off trail west along the south shore to a superhighground site something like 100' in elevation above the shore--an extra-long water bucket haul but a really choice campsite. The big granite cliffs and slabs above big Emigrant Lake form the sort of the poster view of
Emigrant Wilderness; it is a majestic place. Although the big fire (Tamarack) burned north of us, the wind did not blow from that direction so the air stayed fairly clear.In the early evening a few drops of rain fell on us before the sky partially cleared. Day 7 Emigrant Lake to High Emigrant L (4.4 mi, 1219' gain, 397' loss; about 3.0 miles off trail)
A partly cloudy morning indicated that rain would probably begin early in the day. Fortunately we didn't have very far to hike. The trail from Blackbird Lake to Emigrant Meadow Lake is clear in some sections and vanishes in others. For some reason there are abundant ducks where the trail is clear and none where it gets obscure. The topography is obvious enough so that it following the trail is not a major concern. Nonetheless, after several on and off segments, when I saw a row of ducks along a well-defined trail segment I couldn't help but mutter "No sh-t, Sherlock". At Emigrant Meadow Lake we saw a fisherman spin fishing from a gray raft, the first person we'd seen since day 4 at Bigelow Lake. It began to rain steadily at Emigrant Meadow Lake and we hurriedly pitched camp not far from the N-S trail that passes High Emigrant Lake. At that time I had forgotten that this was NOT the PCT even though it is a far more appropriate route for a "Crest" trail, so I wondered why we weren't seeing the expected parade of hikers. As it turned out we saw no one that day nor the next along the trail or anywhere else in the area. High Emigrant and its surroundings showcased a very different sort of landscape from the other areas we had traversed. Here the Miocene volcanic bedrock is covered by very sparse vegetation and crowned by craggy highlands, giving a barren appearance, yet there are dense local patches of wildflowers such as the purple patches adjacent to the lake, which were made up primarily of low-growing lupines and magenta paintbrush. Locally, the underlying granite peeks through and it is generally deeply weathered. The higher altitude (~9700') , cloudy skies, and wind resulted in refreshingly cool temperatures.
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giantbrookie
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Hoosemitegrant Part V. High Emigrant Lake to Leavitt Meadow.
Day 8 High Emigrant L. to Cinko Lake (3.9 miles, 328' gain, 836' loss; about 3.0 miles off trail).
The sun rose on a clear and crisp day and we packed up and set off for another short hiking day. I could really get used to this! The tents needed some drying off before we could get going. This proved to be more adventurous than one might expect. Even though I had two stakes in, my tent was rolled in by the winds rapidly toward the lake. Dawn, using her sprinter's speed, caught the tent just at the edge of the lake.
We moved the packs to Emigrant Pass then dayhiked to two unnamed lakes in the Grizzly Meadow area south of the pass. As I relaxed at one of these lakes and rinsed off again, I sort of hoped that Dawn had lost interest in climbing nearby Grizzly Peak which I had suggested the previous day. Dawn, however, was determined to climb this rugged-looking volcanic peak which contrasts to starkly with the rounded landscape it rises above. This peak has two summits and I wasn't sure which one was the high point so I headed for the saddle between the two from the north side. Much of the steeper climbing to the saddle was over treacherous footing on what one might call "hardened dirt" covered with loose rocks. This is the sort of hiking I'm accustomed to doing in some of my geologic field work in the Coast Ranges but this was a first for Dawn and she did not like it at all; I can't blame her. Upon reaching the saddle I saw the SE peak looked easier and possibly higher so we scrambled to the top, where the knobby (volcanic mudflow) summit block is crowned by a little metal plaque that commemorates three generations of hikers of one family who had climbed to that point. From there I saw that the NW summit looked higher but the last 50' or so looked to be made up of very steep "gravel over baked dirt" sort of stuff, so Dawn and I opted to skip it. We carefully descended the funky slopes below the saddle (that kind of stuff may in fact be slower to descend than ascend) making one pleasant water stop at a little stream bedecked with wonderful wildflowers. Back at the packs, we rejoined Todd and headed down the Emigrant Pass "trail" toward the alleged junction with the Cinko Lake spur trail. Although the trail junction is signed and the initial track is clear, the trail vanishes rather quickly. Similar to the Blackbird-Emigrant Meadow route, the topography is unambiguous so the only route selection issues are avoiding willows and small drop offs. I "cut the corner" to Cinko Lake and was surprised when I pushed through some trees and found myself just above the SW shoreline. Me moved just a smidge uphill to the usual high ground campsite, set up and still had plenty of time to relax at the lake. Day 9 (Cinko Lake to Leavitt Meadow. 13.2 miles, 1201' gain, 3265' loss; about 0.1 miles off trail). Dawn says that on these long trips she starts feeling a bit homesick at about day 7. Like many, what we really look forward to is a shower in addition to a monster meal. We had an efficient hike out. Counting our various stops, we made the trailhead in 7 hours. The wind that had refreshed us and kept the mosquitoes away throughout the trip, largely deserted us, and the temperatures warmed into the 80s as we lost elevation. Those upgrades on the way down became harsher and harsher as the day wore on, until that last little climb before the bridge that I dubbed "the final insult". We started seeing folks starting with a pack train near Fremont Lake and we saw several hikers along the trail as we hiked toward Lane and Roosevelt Lakes and we saw several people around those lakes. Upon reaching the car, I opened the trunk to check on my "experiment": could some of my homemade block ice last 9 days in my cooler (had lasted 7 days on a geology trip earlier this year)? Alas, this experiment was derailed by the recurring "leak" theme. I suspect I had knocked open the drain plug when I had taken Dawn's pack out of the trunk to begin the hike. All the meltwater had drained out and soaked the trunk. It is possible that some ice would have survived had the meltwater not drained and the open plug given air access into the cooler. Nonetheless there was still some coolness in the cooler (had 4 blue ice blocks in there, too), so after draining what little water remained, I placed the fish we had packed out in the cooler. Two of those fish would be the main course of the big dinner my son Lee cooked up when we got home. Although the Tamarack fire closed 395, Todd was able to get out before that, so he reached Chico without incident, only to find Chico choked with smoke from the Dixie fire.
The sun rose on a clear and crisp day and we packed up and set off for another short hiking day. I could really get used to this! The tents needed some drying off before we could get going. This proved to be more adventurous than one might expect. Even though I had two stakes in, my tent was rolled in by the winds rapidly toward the lake. Dawn, using her sprinter's speed, caught the tent just at the edge of the lake.
We moved the packs to Emigrant Pass then dayhiked to two unnamed lakes in the Grizzly Meadow area south of the pass. As I relaxed at one of these lakes and rinsed off again, I sort of hoped that Dawn had lost interest in climbing nearby Grizzly Peak which I had suggested the previous day. Dawn, however, was determined to climb this rugged-looking volcanic peak which contrasts to starkly with the rounded landscape it rises above. This peak has two summits and I wasn't sure which one was the high point so I headed for the saddle between the two from the north side. Much of the steeper climbing to the saddle was over treacherous footing on what one might call "hardened dirt" covered with loose rocks. This is the sort of hiking I'm accustomed to doing in some of my geologic field work in the Coast Ranges but this was a first for Dawn and she did not like it at all; I can't blame her. Upon reaching the saddle I saw the SE peak looked easier and possibly higher so we scrambled to the top, where the knobby (volcanic mudflow) summit block is crowned by a little metal plaque that commemorates three generations of hikers of one family who had climbed to that point. From there I saw that the NW summit looked higher but the last 50' or so looked to be made up of very steep "gravel over baked dirt" sort of stuff, so Dawn and I opted to skip it. We carefully descended the funky slopes below the saddle (that kind of stuff may in fact be slower to descend than ascend) making one pleasant water stop at a little stream bedecked with wonderful wildflowers. Back at the packs, we rejoined Todd and headed down the Emigrant Pass "trail" toward the alleged junction with the Cinko Lake spur trail. Although the trail junction is signed and the initial track is clear, the trail vanishes rather quickly. Similar to the Blackbird-Emigrant Meadow route, the topography is unambiguous so the only route selection issues are avoiding willows and small drop offs. I "cut the corner" to Cinko Lake and was surprised when I pushed through some trees and found myself just above the SW shoreline. Me moved just a smidge uphill to the usual high ground campsite, set up and still had plenty of time to relax at the lake. Day 9 (Cinko Lake to Leavitt Meadow. 13.2 miles, 1201' gain, 3265' loss; about 0.1 miles off trail). Dawn says that on these long trips she starts feeling a bit homesick at about day 7. Like many, what we really look forward to is a shower in addition to a monster meal. We had an efficient hike out. Counting our various stops, we made the trailhead in 7 hours. The wind that had refreshed us and kept the mosquitoes away throughout the trip, largely deserted us, and the temperatures warmed into the 80s as we lost elevation. Those upgrades on the way down became harsher and harsher as the day wore on, until that last little climb before the bridge that I dubbed "the final insult". We started seeing folks starting with a pack train near Fremont Lake and we saw several hikers along the trail as we hiked toward Lane and Roosevelt Lakes and we saw several people around those lakes. Upon reaching the car, I opened the trunk to check on my "experiment": could some of my homemade block ice last 9 days in my cooler (had lasted 7 days on a geology trip earlier this year)? Alas, this experiment was derailed by the recurring "leak" theme. I suspect I had knocked open the drain plug when I had taken Dawn's pack out of the trunk to begin the hike. All the meltwater had drained out and soaked the trunk. It is possible that some ice would have survived had the meltwater not drained and the open plug given air access into the cooler. Nonetheless there was still some coolness in the cooler (had 4 blue ice blocks in there, too), so after draining what little water remained, I placed the fish we had packed out in the cooler. Two of those fish would be the main course of the big dinner my son Lee cooked up when we got home. Although the Tamarack fire closed 395, Todd was able to get out before that, so he reached Chico without incident, only to find Chico choked with smoke from the Dixie fire.
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Since my fishing (etc.) website is still down, you can be distracted by geology stuff at: http://www.fresnostate.edu/csm/ees/facu ... ayshi.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
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giantbrookie
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Hoosemitegrant Part VI. Fishing and Concluding thoughts.
With all of the joys of the Sierra that graced us during the trip, the route planning was totally dictated by fishing prospects. We caught fish from 9 of the 13 lakes we fished and each of these lakes served up at least one fish of 12" or better. We caught fish of 15" or better out of 5 lakes. Whereas Dawn's trip totalled only 5 fish, 4 of these 5 fish were the largest fish caught out each of those 4 lakes by either of us. In addition, I skunked at the only golden trout lake on the trip, whereas Dawn caught two beauties of 15 and 16" and lost another as she tried to land it. She had found a really good "sweet spot" while I circumnavigated the lake (I hooked and lost two fish). In common with many golden lakes, the goldens hammered Dawn's retrieves near the shore, popping out from the cover of submerged rocks. Other than the golden lake, the fish were holding out deep. Most of the lakes appeared to lack visible signs of fish (rises and cruisers) but deep retrieves dropped to the bottom delivered some remarkably "hot" fishing in the middle of the "midsummer slump". At one brookie lake I caught 9 fat brookies running 12-14.5" on 20 casts. At another fabled lake, known for its big rainbows, a red-hot run of 20 casts from one sweet spot returning 10 brookies, 9 of which ranged from 13-16". These were powerful fish that made exciting deep head-shaking runs; they felt extra big on my ultralight Daiwa spinning rod. The action could blink on and off, though. After that red-hot streak above, I took about 20 blank casts around the lake, then returned to the "sweet spot" and took about 5 more blank casts.
I had thought this trip would feature big rainbows, but the really nice ones largely eluded us. In two lakes where we topped out at 13" (Dawn did; my top end was 12" at those lakes) I had one large rainbow apiece unhook itself with the usual aerial action. The only large rainbow success illustrates the on and off nature of fishing. I arrived at one lake and was greeted by 4 super hard (rainbow-style) strikes in my first 8 casts. There followed 5 blank casts, then I shifted to a different casting platform and caught a muscular 16" rainbow on my first cast, followed by a 10" brookie three casts later, after which >20 blank casts followed.
My overall fishing success on this trip compares favorably with my best fishing trips of all time, such as the 2008 Tunechuck and 1997 Sawboose trips. I caught 32 brookies, 7 rainbows and 2 cutthroat. 28 of these 41 fish were 12" or larger and 6 of these were 15" or larger. Catching fish of 12" or better out of 8 different lakes sets a new personal best for a trip exceeding the 7 different lakes of Tunechuck. Four different lakes of 15" or better equals Sawboose 1997 and a 1994 trip to NW Desolation Wilderness and vicinity.
But, of course, a great fishing trip is more than stats, it is about those moments of adrenaline-pumping excitement, such as the unforgettable hour on the 2015 Gold at the End of the Rainbow trip, a trip whose fishing was uplifted by that single hour. This trip had several of those moments, but none that can compare to an "expect the unexpected" one. The unexpected works both ways. Dawn and I both skunked at the one lake on the trip I thought had the highest odds of success, so I guess these things balance out.
We stopped at this lake that I was sure I would skunk at. Midsummer, early afternoon, hot weather at a place that seems to only deliver super early and super late in the season? No chance. I told Todd and Dawn that I'd take 15 casts just to show due diligence then we could be on our way. I was so sure I would skunk I didn't bother to bring my net. The shoreline is awkward, steep and brushy and it is difficult to get into a position to deliver a good long cast. I gazed into the lake. One usually sees these big cruisers off of these drop offs but not this day. I was surprised when I saw a distant rise, way out in the middle, far beyond the maximum range of my 3/8 oz Kastmaster. I fired off my first cast far into the lake. I was surprised at how long it took to sink it to the bottom; the lake was deeper than I remembered it. I was also equally surprised that my deep bottom-bumping retrieve did not get fouled in weeds as so many of my casts on this trip had. But there was no nibble or strike on this retrieve. As expected.
I winged cast 2 of 15 out, sank it to the bottom and began retrieving, with the usual pauses to resink it to the bottom. Suddenly the line tightened up. I pulled back on the rod to see whether this was a snag or a fish; I've lost so many lures to snags in this lake over the years. To my surprise, my rod tip was wiggling from head shakes, and as I pulled, I could feel that this fish was really heavy. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I pumped the rod as I had with all of the big fish of the trip. What was on the other end? Would it be one of the big cutthroat this lake is known for, or would it one of the big brookies that also reside in this lake? In the meantime, I realized I had to figure out how to land a large fish without a net on a rocky and steep shoreline. I moved to my right and waded a bit so that I could steer the fish to a place where I could "beach" it on partly-submerged talus. I figured I'd land it then quickly pounce on it. If I could hold onto a slippery and super-squirmy monkey-faced eel (lots of practice doing this fishing the Bay Area coast) I could successfully grab a large trout. In the meantime, my efforts to bring in the fish were succeeding and it was now visible twisting and running below the surface. It was huge! I could see it was a cutthroat, beyond 18"and really thick. My heartbeat accelerated still more. I steered the twisting fish toward the rocky landing place, then inexplicably the fish came off the hook and vanished. Utterly deflating.
I was sure that to have even hooked a large fish here under those conditions was a total fluke and that the next 13 casts would bear that out. Sure enough, casts 3 through 9 received no attention. Crestfallen, I scrambled a few feet to my left where I had a better angle for snapping long sidearm casts, then launched cast 10 of 15 and sank it to the bottom. After about the fourth resink, there came a slight bump and then...fish on! This one felt way lighter than the first one, though. Nonetheless, it was heavy enough to require some pumping to bring it in. Just in case it was large I sloshed along the shore to my planned landing place and reeled the fish into view. This fish looked a lot bigger than expected. Twisting and running in the water it looked to be a cutthroat of about 20" and medium bodied. I landed it and pounced on it with the vice grip of my left hand like a talon-less bald eagle (had seen several bald eagles on this trip). It turned out to be very firmly hooked, but I was still on edge after losing that first one. I carefully placed it on a stringer, then measured it--it was a smidge over 18". How could I follow that? Well, I had 5 more casts. On the 15th of 15, I hooked up again and landed a fat 17" cutthroat. I was absolutely spent with nervous energy. The fishing on this trip piles to an already unprecedented season for me. This is the best High Sierra fishing season of my life by far, surpassing the past standards (1997 and 2015). In my opinion, a lot of the fishing quality experienced this season is a result of CDFW fisheries management, particularly their scaling back or cessation of air drops in certain lakes, that, in my opinion, have resulted in lower population densities and bigger fish at many of the places I've fished this year (my crazy late June experience, in particular). In fact, CDFW (formerly CDFG) gets a double thanks for me, for putting the fish in most of these lakes to begin with, even though they've taken a lot of flak about this. Thank you CDFG/CDFW for this season and the many decades of fishing pleasure your efforts have delivered for me! Also, special thanks to Jim Lowe for his insight on fishing Emigrant Wilderness lakes.
What a trip this was! Passes, peaks, flowers, fish, and moments of relaxation. Yes, Dawn, Todd, and I have already discussed 2022 big trip plans (two candidate plans are "Sawboose II" and "Legends of the Goddard") but in the meantime we'll sit back and savor this one. It is not often that the stars align themselves just right like this.
But, of course, a great fishing trip is more than stats, it is about those moments of adrenaline-pumping excitement, such as the unforgettable hour on the 2015 Gold at the End of the Rainbow trip, a trip whose fishing was uplifted by that single hour. This trip had several of those moments, but none that can compare to an "expect the unexpected" one. The unexpected works both ways. Dawn and I both skunked at the one lake on the trip I thought had the highest odds of success, so I guess these things balance out.
We stopped at this lake that I was sure I would skunk at. Midsummer, early afternoon, hot weather at a place that seems to only deliver super early and super late in the season? No chance. I told Todd and Dawn that I'd take 15 casts just to show due diligence then we could be on our way. I was so sure I would skunk I didn't bother to bring my net. The shoreline is awkward, steep and brushy and it is difficult to get into a position to deliver a good long cast. I gazed into the lake. One usually sees these big cruisers off of these drop offs but not this day. I was surprised when I saw a distant rise, way out in the middle, far beyond the maximum range of my 3/8 oz Kastmaster. I fired off my first cast far into the lake. I was surprised at how long it took to sink it to the bottom; the lake was deeper than I remembered it. I was also equally surprised that my deep bottom-bumping retrieve did not get fouled in weeds as so many of my casts on this trip had. But there was no nibble or strike on this retrieve. As expected.
I winged cast 2 of 15 out, sank it to the bottom and began retrieving, with the usual pauses to resink it to the bottom. Suddenly the line tightened up. I pulled back on the rod to see whether this was a snag or a fish; I've lost so many lures to snags in this lake over the years. To my surprise, my rod tip was wiggling from head shakes, and as I pulled, I could feel that this fish was really heavy. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I pumped the rod as I had with all of the big fish of the trip. What was on the other end? Would it be one of the big cutthroat this lake is known for, or would it one of the big brookies that also reside in this lake? In the meantime, I realized I had to figure out how to land a large fish without a net on a rocky and steep shoreline. I moved to my right and waded a bit so that I could steer the fish to a place where I could "beach" it on partly-submerged talus. I figured I'd land it then quickly pounce on it. If I could hold onto a slippery and super-squirmy monkey-faced eel (lots of practice doing this fishing the Bay Area coast) I could successfully grab a large trout. In the meantime, my efforts to bring in the fish were succeeding and it was now visible twisting and running below the surface. It was huge! I could see it was a cutthroat, beyond 18"and really thick. My heartbeat accelerated still more. I steered the twisting fish toward the rocky landing place, then inexplicably the fish came off the hook and vanished. Utterly deflating.
I was sure that to have even hooked a large fish here under those conditions was a total fluke and that the next 13 casts would bear that out. Sure enough, casts 3 through 9 received no attention. Crestfallen, I scrambled a few feet to my left where I had a better angle for snapping long sidearm casts, then launched cast 10 of 15 and sank it to the bottom. After about the fourth resink, there came a slight bump and then...fish on! This one felt way lighter than the first one, though. Nonetheless, it was heavy enough to require some pumping to bring it in. Just in case it was large I sloshed along the shore to my planned landing place and reeled the fish into view. This fish looked a lot bigger than expected. Twisting and running in the water it looked to be a cutthroat of about 20" and medium bodied. I landed it and pounced on it with the vice grip of my left hand like a talon-less bald eagle (had seen several bald eagles on this trip). It turned out to be very firmly hooked, but I was still on edge after losing that first one. I carefully placed it on a stringer, then measured it--it was a smidge over 18". How could I follow that? Well, I had 5 more casts. On the 15th of 15, I hooked up again and landed a fat 17" cutthroat. I was absolutely spent with nervous energy. The fishing on this trip piles to an already unprecedented season for me. This is the best High Sierra fishing season of my life by far, surpassing the past standards (1997 and 2015). In my opinion, a lot of the fishing quality experienced this season is a result of CDFW fisheries management, particularly their scaling back or cessation of air drops in certain lakes, that, in my opinion, have resulted in lower population densities and bigger fish at many of the places I've fished this year (my crazy late June experience, in particular). In fact, CDFW (formerly CDFG) gets a double thanks for me, for putting the fish in most of these lakes to begin with, even though they've taken a lot of flak about this. Thank you CDFG/CDFW for this season and the many decades of fishing pleasure your efforts have delivered for me! Also, special thanks to Jim Lowe for his insight on fishing Emigrant Wilderness lakes.
What a trip this was! Passes, peaks, flowers, fish, and moments of relaxation. Yes, Dawn, Todd, and I have already discussed 2022 big trip plans (two candidate plans are "Sawboose II" and "Legends of the Goddard") but in the meantime we'll sit back and savor this one. It is not often that the stars align themselves just right like this.
You do not have the required permissions to view the files attached to this post.
Since my fishing (etc.) website is still down, you can be distracted by geology stuff at: http://www.fresnostate.edu/csm/ees/facu ... ayshi.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
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gary c.
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Re: TR 7/13-21 Hoover-Emigrant-Yosemite lunker lollipop
What a great trip and to be able to make it with family a real bonus. I was really happy with the quality of the fish we caught last year in emigrant but your group did even better. Thanks for posting your trip.
"On this proud and beautiful mountain we have lived hours of fraternal, warm and exalting nobility. Here for a few days we have ceased to be slaves and have really been men. It is hard to return to servitude."
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texan
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Re: TR 7/13-21 Hoover-Emigrant-Yosemite lunker lollipop
Nice trip for a area I am very familiar with. I have fished all of those lakes you went too many times. In fact, on 4th of July 1992 we got a snowed on at that lake. Its unfortunate that they removed the goldens out of Tower a long time ago. I am surprised you didn't get bigger rainbows on your trip. Emigrant, Tilden, Emigrant Meadow, and Huckleberry all have large rainbows. Bigelow is excellent for brookies for 12-16 inches too. High Emigrant is too. I see you also stopped by my two favorite cutthroat lakes. Nice fishing trip. Did you try Hidden Lake?It has decent rainbows? Thank for the TR.
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SSSdave
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Re: TR 7/13-21 Hoover-Emigrant-Yosemite lunker lollipop
Same period we packed out of Mosquito Flat. Quite an adventure and you still reign as fish king. Way more miles than I'm capable of even if I carried a lighter pack. On the board last year I talked about visiting Snow and Bigelow and your inputs show why I had that interest.
I had planned an 8 day trip for 2 of us last year out of Kennedy Meadows to as far as Emigrant lake but the pandemic prevented that. In a future summer likely early August, am still likely to do a solo base camping photography trip from KM just to the Grizzly Peak zone as those volcanic soils have some of the best wildflower displays after wet winters and the geology is colorful. Reminds me a lot of the fascinating Miocene landscapes north of Ebbetts Pass. Enjoyed your photos of that area that shows even in a drought year it is superb. GB, are you still choosing not to use DEET? Good to read Dawn has taken to drinking out of selective streams that I enjoy too. On our trip, beyond selective stream water I've been freely drinking unfiltered this last decade, last week I drank unfiltered water right out of Ruby, Summit, Golden, and Trail Lakes as I more fully revert to my earlier decades of doing so safely. Its a natural Earth creature thing.
I had planned an 8 day trip for 2 of us last year out of Kennedy Meadows to as far as Emigrant lake but the pandemic prevented that. In a future summer likely early August, am still likely to do a solo base camping photography trip from KM just to the Grizzly Peak zone as those volcanic soils have some of the best wildflower displays after wet winters and the geology is colorful. Reminds me a lot of the fascinating Miocene landscapes north of Ebbetts Pass. Enjoyed your photos of that area that shows even in a drought year it is superb. GB, are you still choosing not to use DEET? Good to read Dawn has taken to drinking out of selective streams that I enjoy too. On our trip, beyond selective stream water I've been freely drinking unfiltered this last decade, last week I drank unfiltered water right out of Ruby, Summit, Golden, and Trail Lakes as I more fully revert to my earlier decades of doing so safely. Its a natural Earth creature thing.
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giantbrookie
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Re: TR 7/13-21 Hoover-Emigrant-Yosemite lunker lollipop
You know I was thinking about how I'd return to that area and "next time" I think what I might do is to head in from Leavitt Lake (my original planned entry point; kaboshed because of the permit rules noted in the post) and base camp at High Emigrant or nearby. The hike from Leavitt Lake is shorter and, in my opinion, much more pleasant, than coming in from Kennedy Mdw. From the High Emigrant area one can reach many places with fairly easy dayhikes. Regarding DEET, after a long hiatus, Dawn and I tried it on our 2019 (much worse mosquitoes than this one) and in our opinion the short-lived mosquito relief didn't seem to justify its use, given the health issues associated with that compounds, so we haven't used DEET since. Regarding the drinking out of streams, it has always been one my favorite things. I grew up drinking out of streams like that but boiling (pre water filter days) water out of trailside bodies of water. Scooping water out of those streams with my Sierra Cup was always special---it still is and Dawn really looks forward to those moments, too.SSSdave wrote: ↑Sun Jul 25, 2021 10:37 am I had planned an 8 day trip for 2 of us last year out of Kennedy Meadows to as far as Emigrant lake but the pandemic prevented that. In a future summer likely early August, am still likely to do a solo base camping photography trip from KM just to the Grizzly Peak zone as those volcanic soils have some of the best wildflower displays after wet winters and the geology is colorful. Reminds me a lot of the fascinating Miocene landscapes north of Ebbetts Pass. Enjoyed your photos of that area that shows even in a drought year it is superb. GB, are you still choosing not to use DEET? Good to read Dawn has taken to drinking out of selective streams that I enjoy too. On our trip, beyond selective stream water I've been freely drinking unfiltered this last decade, last week I drank unfiltered water right out of Ruby, Summit, Golden, and Trail Lakes as I more fully revert to my earlier decades of doing so safely. Its a natural Earth creature thing.
Texan, regarding the rainbow thing... Indeed I set out figuring this was a big-rainbow-centric trip, but my during-trip route changes removed two of the big rainbow lakes, and my decision to stay on the south shore of the most famous one may have biased my catch toward brookies. I also skunked at another big rainbow lake where I took something close to 50 blank casts but had one heart stopping moment when an immense (>20") bow darted out of the rocks but didn't quite chomp down on my lure. Hidden? I think that place is dependent on air drops and is now thought to be fishless, but I could be wrong, given that I didn't take a look. It is shown as fishless on the CDFW online guide.
Since my fishing (etc.) website is still down, you can be distracted by geology stuff at: http://www.fresnostate.edu/csm/ees/facu ... ayshi.html" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
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