This story began in August 2018 when my daughter and I gazed south from the top of Red Mountain to see the glimmer of Martha Lake in the distance. I pulled out my map and pondered that far yonder terroir with increasing intrigue.
“Huh! Look at this…No trails anywhere beyond that lake. An ‘Empty Quarter’. It looks fantastic!”
“Golly dad, do you think we can make it that far?”
“I wonder who goes there? If the birds and creatures see many humans at all?”
“Dad…Do you think we could get there?”
“Uhhhhhhhhhhh…Not sure. Maybe just one of these places at most. Like this way cool looking area around Lake 10232. Or geeeeeez-Louise, what about Tunemah?! That is out there, big time.”
“Let’s do it! OK?”
“Sure sweetie…we can at least try. My bucket list adventure!”
2019 was wet. Mosquitoes and health issues kiboshed any trips.
2020 was the year to try, via Wishon and Coyote Pass. But a week before due to leave my daughter died. In her honour I attempted it alone, but my traditional 50+ pound pack, lack of ability to share some of the load, and “age” defeated me.
However, the trip report that ensued “A Ridge Too Far” viewtopic.php?f=1&t=20921 led to ‘meeting’ Ian @Harlen online with a subsequent year of emails and phone-calls culminating in the idea of a shared trip to this “Promised Land” in summer of 2021. However, this time for me, with a new goal of a maximum 35 pound starting pack.
Now if any of you have gone on back-packing trips with people you have never met it can be a recipe for disaster. From past experience I was not unaware of this. Plus got the sense that both Ian and I are definitely not “low key wallflowers” so the potential for “closeness conflict” was high. But I, and no doubt he too, took the risk and we went for it! Thank goodness, as indeed through goodwill and gentlemanly compromises on both sides, we survived and had a great trip.
My legs may have disagreed on innumerable occasions and for sure I was close to “fatigue delirium” by the end of most of the longer hike days. However, Ian never pushed me to move faster and always cognized my rapid decline near evening. On one occasion I was so plastered he had shouldered my whole pack on top of his to bring it to a potential campsite I was stumbling around trying to look for.
A true scholar and a gentleman!
Ian is also a bona fide full on “Mountain Man” – fearless of drop offs, cliffs, crazy ridges, treetops, etc. In addition he seems to know everything about the Sierras. @sekihiker has it right:
“Lodgepoles always have just two needles when you pull on them”…“Slopes look much harder from far away than closer up”…“Look for ramps and markers when assessing a route”…“Rocks up. Sand down”…These were just a few of the multitude of details I absorbed thanks to his commentary.Plus you got to share the trip with Ian, a very amazing and knowledgeable hiker and mountaineer.
Birds, flowers, rocks, animals, terrain. All were intimately familiar. And much of it unfortunately slid through the sieve of my oft’ fatigued brain. I did not retain near as much as I would have liked, though a lot did stick - which will make my future trips so much more rewarding and easier!
Inspired and thankful for the many comments of support and encouragement c/o that 2020 trip report I was committed to trying again but this time via a Florence Lake entry. Being just a few weeks away from 71 the gentle grade and two days of trail all the way to Martha Lake would give me a chance to acclimate and wake my legs up to the distances and effort I would demand of them - which would be considerable!
Indeed this route proved to be a sound choice with a lot less “blood and brush”. With Ian insisting on carrying some items (later my tent too) my starting pack weight came in at 34 pounds. Much better than the insane 50+ pounds of my 2020 effort!
So, Goddard Canyon and Martha Lake. What gorgeous country. The Lupines were in full bloom and magnificent even in the cloudy grey overcast. Martha was desolately wild and dramatic with Mt. Goddard looming over all. A truly special place. Plus I finally saw my first Pikas! And tasted my first mountain trout. The latter being an example of one of the things I learned…that Golden Trout actually have the appearance of a rainbow in colouring, yet Rainbow Trout are kind of plain and not very colourful. Hmmmmm…these mysteries of the fishing fundis!
Speaking of rainbows, the coloured rocks in this area are something else. I was captivated by them – in all shades of green, purple, grey, reds, etc.
Reinstein was the first of five cross-country passes (six if include Alpine Pass) we went over. Two of those were “unnamed” and only Reinstein was a there-and-back crossing. It seems like each had an easy side and a tricky side with some being more ‘tricky’ than others. In all my previous Sierra trips I have never crossed more than one such pass per trip, so this was definitely a change!
After Reinstein’s tricky south side we dropped into the stunning terrain of Lake 10232 and my first wish-list destination. It did not disappoint.
The waterfall cascades down the NE section of the basin are impressive and must be really something in a wet year. As Ian said @Wandering Daisy is the pro in this domain. The creeks tumble down to the lake itself which sits in a massive ¾ sided longitudinal bowl and sports the most beautiful coloured water.
We were sorely tempted to stop but continued into the Finger Peak basin in order to achieve our next goal the following morning via a ‘guess on the map’ pass crossing. Camping by lake 10,280 (new maps elev.) the light bathing the north side of Finger Peak was mesmeric.
“Mercury Pass” (unnamed/unofficial) was our next adventure as from close study of the contours it offered a potential shortcut to Tunemah. Ian has written this up in his report, and indeed the first north-south saddle just NNE of Blue Canyon Peak was an easy up and over.
The second part leading up and into the Tunemah basin proper had a more visceral personality. As you can see from the photos the upper section of the pass gets a bit steep and put me into more slippery terrain than I was used to.
This was some of the discourse near the top after Ian (above me) had nonchalantly said he was just going to “trust” that section and scrambled up it like a Hyrax…
“Uhhhhhh……Ian!”
“Don’t look down.”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh…….Sh*t!”
“Grab that rock…the bedrock one!”
“You mean this one? The one that moves when I pull on it? – Oh!..Uh-oh!...The one under my foot is sliding out too!”
“You’re doing great!”
“Uuhhhh-mmmmm…Ian, maybe…..maybe this is a little too much???”
“No, it’s fine. Just don’t look down!”
Once at the top I did look down and almost shat myself! If I had looked down when clambering up I would have frozen solid - or taken a moon shot.
I promptly turned to Ian and said: “100% dead serious here. There is NO WAY I am going back that way. ABSOLUTELY no way!”
He grinned of course, as for him it had been a mere walk in the park compared to his peak ridges and “playing with pretty wild exposure” - which is not referring to camera settings!
For those used to mountaineering I’m sure this was very ‘Ho-Hum’ stuff. For a mostly ex trail bum I was so shook up I forgot the video function on my camera as still photos do not do it justice. My body flatly refused to get too close to the edge as when I tried it felt like a Tesla grade vacuum cleaner was starting up in my belly. However, you can see from this tepid picture I did manage that you cannot even see the slope. That’s because it just drops off into the void down there!
To be fair though it looked like a 70 degree downward grade, but when I made an angle of the slope with my hands it was more like 45 degrees. And another of Ian’s adages was true: “Looking down it always looks much steeper than it really is”…Hrummph! Well even so, I was NOT going back that way.
CONTINUED...
