TR: HST Wales Lake Meet-Up, July 2014
Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 4:05 pm
Wales Lake HST Meet-up, July 2014
The trip to Wales Lake and the HST meet-up was not something I’d penned into my 2014 calendar. What made me change my mind is that I had marched over Forester Pass earlier this summer without managing to see any of the off-trail gems – especially Milestone Basin and the upper Kern – that I had walked there to see in the first place. Weather and (my own) poor trip-mileage planning had interfered.
The HST meet-up served up a ready excuse to return to the area, and to meet some new people as well.
What clinched the deal was Maverick’s (Peter’s) offer to carpool from the Bay Area, hike to the meet-up together, and share some of his vast photography knowledge with me. I had just gotten a new camera and had been working hard to learn landscape photography technique, so this was an offer I could not refuse!
Day 1: Up
So it was that I found myself parking my car at Livermore Airport at 3:30 a.m., jumping into Mav’s Civic, driving across Yosemite (which I barely remember as I was running on 3-4 hours of sleep), permitting up in Bishop, dropping my daypack at Mount Williamson Motel in Independence (in anticipation of my return), and nervously watching as Mav attempted to navigate the Civic up a dirt road littered with massive rocks to the Shepherd Pass hiker trailhead. He wisely gave up at the halfway point, turned around and parked us back at the stock trailhead. Thus we started up the east side’s most notorious pass – where the sun bares down so relentlessly that smart people start before daylight – precisely at midday.
I did not take any photos that day, but here is one taken near the trailhead on my walk-out 9 days later:
I love eastside entries. I grew up in the high desert, so the desert feels charming and welcoming to me. Most eastside canyons provide a dramatic sense of vertigo: At the halfway point you can peer 3000 feet straight down to your Owens Valley starting point; and 3000 feet straight up to your pass. The Shepherd trail was splendid in all these usual, eastside ways.
I particularly enjoyed the first two thousand vertical feet of trail, which initially hops back and forth across beautiful Symmes Creek, and then climbs the wall above. The one thing that thoroughly surprised me about the Shepherd trail overall, was how marvelously constructed and well-maintained it is! I was expecting something more the likes of the Baxter Pass trail, with constant washouts and puzzles. Instead I found a smooth dirt path following switchbacks that are neither too maddeningly roundabout, nor too steep, nor even rocky (till you get to the talus at the top). And there is no horse manure - stock were banned here after the last washout. Here’s what the trail tends to look like:
At the saddle we had a great first view of Mount Williamson and into Shepherd Creek. By this point, a breeze and a light cloud cover had softened the harsh sun.
We had our eyes on the prize – Anvil Camp – and kept our breaks very short. Mav was a much faster walker than me. Although he was copacetic and never demonstrated any impatience, after stops I often shouldered my pack first to gain a head start.
In spite of the cooler temps, the 9000-foot mark or so was where the trail started to wear on me, the initial joy of Symmes Creek far below us now. At some point you run out of distractions and this notorious trail becomes exactly the Stairmaster it is rumored to be. We figure we climbed about 4800 feet that day. Although I carry a light load by most standards, with nine days of food the pack just felt unnatural.
One nifty thing about Mav, should you ever go hiking with him, is that he can tell you the precise altitude, without consulting any gadgets or maps. At breaks, I would make him guess and he would be correct within 200 feet. How? His body tells him. At 8000 feet his heart does this; at 9000 feet his nose does that; at 10,500 his breathing becomes labored. That is probably more than he wanted written about him here.
A 10,300 feet, after detouring high around the gully that was washed out in 2013, we stumbled into forested Anvil Camp and set up our tents. Mav dubbed the place “Advil Camp.” Too exhausted to recall the correct name, that is exactly what I recorded in my journal that night.
Hey, I observed: We did all that work just to get to the same altitude as the Mono Pass trailhead – which you can drive to! But here’s the thing: You can’t build a road up a canyon this vertical (even if you wanted to so desecrate the wilderness). And its verticality is what makes it so magnificent and spectacular. And that magnificence is what makes it worth hiking.
Plus, Shepherd Pass was apparently Larry Conn’s favorite eastside entry – and that is worth something.
Day 2: To the Upper Kern
We resumed the uphill stroll. On the upper reaches of Shepherd Creek, “Talus” deserves its own ecosystem designation. Talus is a serious art form here. There are vast fields of talus; mountains of talus tiny and huge; mazes of talus somehow covered in meadow; and every variety of alpine flower, tenaciously poking up through the talus. (Anyone know what this flower is called?)
There is even a piece of talus reclining in the throne of a foxtail pine stump.
Before we knew it we were tackling the final quarter mile (steep, loose trail) and topping out at the pass.
Pity the poor slob who hauls his goats, step by step, 6,700 feet up the Stairmaster, only to be turned around by this sign right at the pass:
The west side of Shepherd Pass rewarded us with glorious views of Tyndall Peak, the Great Western Divide, and beguiling meadows and brooks. And a nice gentle downhill grade.
Nearing the PCT, Mav and I decided we could avoid the highway crowds by moving cross-country straight across to the “cut-off” trail (to the Upper Kern). It is a marmot city up here. The cut-off trail is situated on a high, beautiful plateau with views for miles. Foxy foxtail pines and pretty meadows frame the ever-approaching peaks of the Great Western Divide:
Reaching the trail that follows the upper Kern River, we took a right. All of the lakes are beautiful here. Here is just one:
Soon we went off-trail again, following a little stream to our Night 2 destination, a lake south of Mount Genevre:
We hadn’t seen anyone since we crossed the PCT. A very satisfying day. And the water was warm! I took a leisurely swim. At dusk, a stocky miniature owl flew in to perch for a while in a snag right in camp. After many years of dreaming, I had finally made it to the Upper Kern.
To be continued...
The trip to Wales Lake and the HST meet-up was not something I’d penned into my 2014 calendar. What made me change my mind is that I had marched over Forester Pass earlier this summer without managing to see any of the off-trail gems – especially Milestone Basin and the upper Kern – that I had walked there to see in the first place. Weather and (my own) poor trip-mileage planning had interfered.
The HST meet-up served up a ready excuse to return to the area, and to meet some new people as well.
What clinched the deal was Maverick’s (Peter’s) offer to carpool from the Bay Area, hike to the meet-up together, and share some of his vast photography knowledge with me. I had just gotten a new camera and had been working hard to learn landscape photography technique, so this was an offer I could not refuse!
Day 1: Up
So it was that I found myself parking my car at Livermore Airport at 3:30 a.m., jumping into Mav’s Civic, driving across Yosemite (which I barely remember as I was running on 3-4 hours of sleep), permitting up in Bishop, dropping my daypack at Mount Williamson Motel in Independence (in anticipation of my return), and nervously watching as Mav attempted to navigate the Civic up a dirt road littered with massive rocks to the Shepherd Pass hiker trailhead. He wisely gave up at the halfway point, turned around and parked us back at the stock trailhead. Thus we started up the east side’s most notorious pass – where the sun bares down so relentlessly that smart people start before daylight – precisely at midday.
I did not take any photos that day, but here is one taken near the trailhead on my walk-out 9 days later:
I love eastside entries. I grew up in the high desert, so the desert feels charming and welcoming to me. Most eastside canyons provide a dramatic sense of vertigo: At the halfway point you can peer 3000 feet straight down to your Owens Valley starting point; and 3000 feet straight up to your pass. The Shepherd trail was splendid in all these usual, eastside ways.
I particularly enjoyed the first two thousand vertical feet of trail, which initially hops back and forth across beautiful Symmes Creek, and then climbs the wall above. The one thing that thoroughly surprised me about the Shepherd trail overall, was how marvelously constructed and well-maintained it is! I was expecting something more the likes of the Baxter Pass trail, with constant washouts and puzzles. Instead I found a smooth dirt path following switchbacks that are neither too maddeningly roundabout, nor too steep, nor even rocky (till you get to the talus at the top). And there is no horse manure - stock were banned here after the last washout. Here’s what the trail tends to look like:
At the saddle we had a great first view of Mount Williamson and into Shepherd Creek. By this point, a breeze and a light cloud cover had softened the harsh sun.
We had our eyes on the prize – Anvil Camp – and kept our breaks very short. Mav was a much faster walker than me. Although he was copacetic and never demonstrated any impatience, after stops I often shouldered my pack first to gain a head start.
In spite of the cooler temps, the 9000-foot mark or so was where the trail started to wear on me, the initial joy of Symmes Creek far below us now. At some point you run out of distractions and this notorious trail becomes exactly the Stairmaster it is rumored to be. We figure we climbed about 4800 feet that day. Although I carry a light load by most standards, with nine days of food the pack just felt unnatural.
One nifty thing about Mav, should you ever go hiking with him, is that he can tell you the precise altitude, without consulting any gadgets or maps. At breaks, I would make him guess and he would be correct within 200 feet. How? His body tells him. At 8000 feet his heart does this; at 9000 feet his nose does that; at 10,500 his breathing becomes labored. That is probably more than he wanted written about him here.
A 10,300 feet, after detouring high around the gully that was washed out in 2013, we stumbled into forested Anvil Camp and set up our tents. Mav dubbed the place “Advil Camp.” Too exhausted to recall the correct name, that is exactly what I recorded in my journal that night.
Hey, I observed: We did all that work just to get to the same altitude as the Mono Pass trailhead – which you can drive to! But here’s the thing: You can’t build a road up a canyon this vertical (even if you wanted to so desecrate the wilderness). And its verticality is what makes it so magnificent and spectacular. And that magnificence is what makes it worth hiking.
Plus, Shepherd Pass was apparently Larry Conn’s favorite eastside entry – and that is worth something.
Day 2: To the Upper Kern
We resumed the uphill stroll. On the upper reaches of Shepherd Creek, “Talus” deserves its own ecosystem designation. Talus is a serious art form here. There are vast fields of talus; mountains of talus tiny and huge; mazes of talus somehow covered in meadow; and every variety of alpine flower, tenaciously poking up through the talus. (Anyone know what this flower is called?)
There is even a piece of talus reclining in the throne of a foxtail pine stump.
Before we knew it we were tackling the final quarter mile (steep, loose trail) and topping out at the pass.
Pity the poor slob who hauls his goats, step by step, 6,700 feet up the Stairmaster, only to be turned around by this sign right at the pass:
The west side of Shepherd Pass rewarded us with glorious views of Tyndall Peak, the Great Western Divide, and beguiling meadows and brooks. And a nice gentle downhill grade.
Nearing the PCT, Mav and I decided we could avoid the highway crowds by moving cross-country straight across to the “cut-off” trail (to the Upper Kern). It is a marmot city up here. The cut-off trail is situated on a high, beautiful plateau with views for miles. Foxy foxtail pines and pretty meadows frame the ever-approaching peaks of the Great Western Divide:
Reaching the trail that follows the upper Kern River, we took a right. All of the lakes are beautiful here. Here is just one:
Soon we went off-trail again, following a little stream to our Night 2 destination, a lake south of Mount Genevre:
We hadn’t seen anyone since we crossed the PCT. A very satisfying day. And the water was warm! I took a leisurely swim. At dusk, a stocky miniature owl flew in to perch for a while in a snag right in camp. After many years of dreaming, I had finally made it to the Upper Kern.
To be continued...