SIERRA CROSSING (8 Part Series)
Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2007 3:30 pm
SIERRA CROSSING
First in an eight-part series by Tom Stienstra
Tom Stienstra
SFGate.com
Sunday, August 5, 2007
(08-05) 04:00 PDT Siberian Ridge, Sequoia National Park -- From a granite crag at 11,320 feet, you can see how the Sierra Crest crowns the eastern horizon, spiked for miles by peaks that poke holes into a cobalt blue sky.
You can then turn to the west and take in the distant rim of the Great Western Divide, 25 miles away. It rises 12,000 feet in a series of slanted granite walls.
Between these two massive mountain ridges, the Sierra Crest near Mount Whitney to the east above Lone Pine, and the Great Western Divide to the west above the San Joaquin Valley, you can scan across a wilderness paradise that spans more than 1,000 square miles. I call this the "Cradle of the Sierra" because it is nestled between the two crests. Reaching the heart of it requires a long trek, 30 miles from a trailhead.
The most remote river canyon in the Lower 48, the headwaters of the Kern runs through this mountain cradle. A trek here can reveal the towering canyon rims, ancient virgin forests, pristine lakes and creeks, waterfalls and hot springs, and wildlife for which each visitor is a curiosity, not a threat. The trout fishing in the remote Kern can be the best of any in the American wilderness. The streams are the purest in California. People are scarce and litter nonexistent.
But to get here, you have to earn it.
We proposed an expedition into the heart of this landscape: a 70-mile crossing of the Sierra Nevada from east to west, as the first pioneers and trailblazers would have seen it. We would start at the flank of Mount Whitney in the eastern Sierra, hike up the Sierra Crest and down canyons to the Kern River, and then trek up and over the Great Western Divide and down to Mineral King at the foot of the western Sierra.
Michael Furniss, a Forest Service hydrologist and time-tested fellow adventurer, would be our science adviser and photographer. Brother Bob "Rambob" Stienstra, who's saved my bacon on more than one outing, was in charge of food and cookware.
We were aware that we would be walking in the footsteps of trailblazers, pioneers, and explorers. Imagine coming from the East across the Great Basin in the 1850s, approaching the southern Sierra Nevada at 14,497-foot Mount Whitney, and then saying, "Now what do we do?"
In 1834, legendary trailblazer Joe Walker, who is buried in Martinez overlooking Carquinez Strait, is believed to be the first American explorer to lead a group along the Kern River. On that trip, Walker established a route over the southern Sierra, Walker Pass, which later became a major route for pioneers to enter the San Joaquin Valley. In 1845 Walker returned with topographer Edward Kern, who explored the river for a month, the adventure that led to the river being named after him.
You also feel the ghost of John Muir, who climbed most of the surrounding peaks, including Whitney, 14,027-foot Mount Langley and the 14,015-foot peak on the shoulder of Whitney known as Mount Muir. As we approached the trip, Muir's words echoed in our thoughts:
"Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer. Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energies, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."
For years, Furniss, Rambob and I have been intoxicated by the vision of this Sierra crossing, east to west, searching for the routes of the trailblazers, and hiking, camping, and fishing in the heart of the Sierra Cradle and the Kern River.
To make it work, we parked my rig at trail's end at Mineral King in Sequoia National Park. Paul Bischoff of Sequoia Sightseeing Tours shuttled us over to Lone Pine at the foot of the Eastern Sierra. This is an eight-hour drive on a route that loops around the southern Sierra. When we drove through California City, a desert town on Highway 14 north of Mojave, it was 113 degrees. Whitney seemed like it was on a different planet.
On a trip like this, you look for indicators that might foretell the adventure. As we started the drive, a flight of dove rose right in front of us. As we left Mineral King, a black bear ran alongside for 40 feet, and then hopped into the forest. At the trailhead, two ground squirrels played tag, then stopped to see if we were watching them, like a welcoming committee.
Heading to wilderness
At the Horseshoe Meadow Trailhead, 9,960 feet, set on the south flank of Whitney, Furniss looked up at the crest.
"How bad you say that climb is out of the Kern Canyon?" he asked. Of course, he already knew: From the base of the Kern Canyon to a notch in the Great Western Divide, you climb 5,130 feet over 12 miles.
Furniss said he felt a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation - exhilaration at taking on a trek with world-class beauty, but trepidation at facing the altitude, climbs and daily physical challenges.
"Getting into the Kern Canyon won't be any Sunday picnic either," answered Rambob. "It's 32 miles in three days with three passes and a then head-long dive down Wallace Creek to the Kern." This descent would start at a 10,964-foot ridge and then drop 2,900 feet in five miles to Junction Meadow in the Kern Canyon. With a cragged rock surface, this was a potential toe-jammer and knee-twister.
There were other concerns. What about the snakes in notorious Rattlesnake Canyon? In a drought year in the high country, could drinking water sources at creeks be dried up? How would our bodies react to the continuous aerobic hiking at high altitude? If we don't catch fish, would we have enough food? And on every trip, there's an X-factor, an unanticipatable crisis, where you must react to save the trip.
With packs hoisted and strapped on, we connected outreached fists.
"No falls," ordered Furniss.
"Stay safe," echoed Rambob.
In our first steps, Furniss turned and said, "For all we know, it could be hundreds of years ago. The country out here is that primitive. This is the Wild West. You're on your own. There are no back-up systems to save you if you screw up."
And we were off.
The trail started off nearly flat, and I quickly felt the old beat and cadence, stroking my size 13s up toward Cottonwood Pass and the junction with the Pacific Crest Trail. About 20 minutes in, the trail started to rise, the start of a 1,000-foot climb, as easy as it gets for the high country, and I fell into a familiar aerobic rhythm. With the smell of pine duff in the air, it felt like I was home.
Here in July, spring was still arriving. Whorled penstemon, the wildflower with tiny blooms like little blue bells, along with yellow mules ear, the coarse red bloom of Indian paintbrush and lush green corn lilies sparked color along the trail. A sparse ancient forest of white bark pine provided filtered shade, and at times, ghostly shadows flickered on the trail ahead. At tree line, I heard the mating call of a blue grouse, the classic "Woomph, woomph, woomph." Another good sign: Medicine Men call blue grouse the Sacred Spiral to the great outdoors.
After an easy start for about two miles, the trail climbs 900 feet in 1.5 miles, and you pop out on top at the pass and the PCT junction at 11,160 feet.
World-class trail
Just before hitting the summit, we turned and looked behind us, and scanned across the Horseshoe Meadow Complex at the trailhead and beyond to the Owens Valley more than 7,000 feet below. It was a last look back. We turned up the trail, hiked 50 yards and popped over the top of the ridge. All at once, looking west, the rim of the Kern Canyon and far beyond, the Great Western Divide, came into distant view.
The sky was so rich a blue and the air so clear that it seemed as if you could reach out and touch the Great Divide. Yet at the same time, it seemed impossibly far to walk.
Furniss, who lives on the coast, is often slow to get acclimated to high altitudes, and already his face looked blanched.
"Bonus," Rambob shouted, and to our collective shock, he pulled two large Snickers out of his pack and passed them out. Our tradition of "bonus" started 20 years ago, the first time we hiked the John Muir Trail, where you try to surprise your mates. Well, it worked, and put Furniss back on his feet with color in his face.
We turned right on the PCT and climbed past Chicken Spring Lake, a pretty little jewel in a rock basin, and trekked upward to a ridge that acts as the border for the Golden Trout Wilderness and Sequoia National Park.
As we gained the rise, the stunning Siberian Outpost appeared below. It's called the Siberian Outpost not only for the bleak landscape forms, but also for its remoteness. To the south, there's a craggy, cliff-like outcrop, its rim lined by firs. Adjoining the Outpost is a vast, barren half-meadow/half desert that's covered by snow and ice eight months of the year.
I launched ahead of the others to claim a prize campsite. After crossing Rock Creek, I took an unsigned cut-off that leads to a lake set below a granite monolith called the Major General.
A spur trail was routed out past a meadow, around a hill to small, beautiful Soldier Lake, and to a campsite set on a peninsula at lakeside. The lake is shallow on one end and then feeds into a deep bowl, circled by high granite, spires towering over the basin.
"Right here, right now, I feel like this could be 200 years ago," Rambob said.
Furniss agreed. "It probably looked like this 5,000 years ago," he added.
"A trip like this starts with humility," Furniss said. "Look at these mountains and see how old everything is, how big it is. We're just coming through to get a taste of the beauty. Let that be our model for what we do with our lives, in the next week and beyond."
It was a good first day, and a light, early evening breeze kept the mosquitoes to zero.
"Where to next?" Furniss asked.
Crabtree Meadow at the foot of Mount Whitney, came the answer, and then down Wallace Creek to the headwaters of the Kern River, at the bottom of the most remote canyon in America.
The next week portends the physical hardships of a Sierra crossing, but with it the chance to explore a land with stunning beauty, wild trout, wildlife, waterfalls and hot springs, high ridges and deep canyons, and along the way, to sense the ghosts of explorers past.
-- A photo gallery from this Sierra adventure can be found at sfgate.com/sports/outdoors.
Day 1
Horseshoe Meadow to Soldier Lake, 11.1 miles
Horseshoe Meadow Trailhead (9,960 feet) to Cottonwood Pass (11,160 feet, 1,200-foot climb, 3.4 miles) and Pacific Crest Trail. Turn right on PCT and climb to border of Golden Trout Wilderness and Sequoia National Park (11,320 feet), past Siberian Outpost to Soldier Lakes Junction (7.0). Turn right to Soldier Lake (0.7). Camp at lake below the Major General Monolith.
Outfitting the trip
Group gear: Stove, fuel, wind screen, lighter, pot, pan, pot grabber, scrubber, bear-proof food canisters, collapsible water jug, water purification system, comprehensive first-aid kit, heavy-duty plastic garbage bags, rope, spade, maps, permit, candle, sun block, whistle, duct tape.
Personal gear: Backpack, Nalgene bottle or canteen, pack poncho, bivy or tent, Therm-a-Rest pad, sleeping bag, air pillow, boots with innersoles, cup, fork, knife, fishing gear, toilet paper, toothbrush and toothpaste, towelettes, lip balm, mosquito repellent, flashlight, camera, notebook and pen, watch with compass/altimeter, secure car key.
Clothes: For hiking - lightweight convertible hiking pants (zipper to make shorts), lightweight breathable shirt, socks, bandana, wide-brim hat, sunglasses. Note: Do not wear cotton-made shirts or pants when hiking on expeditions. For camp - Polypropylene underwear, comfortable overshirt, fleece vest, lightweight Gore-Tex jacket. Bonus - lightweight rubber/plastic camp sandals.
Food (per person, per day): Breakfast - one instant soup, two instant oatmeals; lunch (eaten all day long) - meat stick, turkey jerky, dried fruit, trail mix, Luna bar; dinner - two instant soups, 2/3 freeze-dried dinner, trout (fried in tube butter or barbecued on coals with Lawry's seasoned salt); bonus - hot cider, Tang, hot chocolate, Starburst, cigar.
Logistics
Trailhead hiker quota information: http://www.fs.fed.us/r5/inyo . Click on Passes and Permits, then on Wilderness and Wilderness Permits and Information. This site lists trailhead availability for summer dates for Inyo National Forest and the Whitney Zone, and provides the printable form for reservation requests.
Wilderness trailhead reservation: From Web site listed above, print out form, complete, and submit with check or credit card number, $5 per hiker ($15 if entering Whitney Zone), to Wilderness Reservation Office, 351 Pacu Lane, Suite 200, Bishop, CA 93514, or fax to (760) 873-2484.
Wilderness permit: Pick up in person at Eastern Sierra Interagency Visitor Center on U.S. 395 just south of Lone Pine. Confirm route, group leader, hikers in party, bear-proof food canisters, campfire restrictions. Group leader in wilderness must carry permit.
Shuttle ride: Sequoia Sightseeing Tours, Paul and Becky Bischoff, Three Rivers, CA, (559) 561-4189 or sequoiatours.com.
Phone contacts: Inyo Wilderness Permit Reservation Line, (760) 873-2483; Eastern Sierra Interagency Visitor Center, (760) 876-6200; Inyo National Forest Headquarters, Bishop, (760) 873-2400; Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park, (559) 565-3341 or nps.gov/seki.
E-mail Tom Stienstra at tstienstra@sfchronicle.com.