Tr-May 2012 We may be old but we're slow!
Posted: Sat Apr 06, 2013 6:26 pm
After almost a two year hiatus my old bud Markskor and I finally got together for another backcountry adventure. We managed not to kill each other and only once did I tweak him a little too far.
The joint venture began when we met at Curry Village about 8:30 AM on May 21. A quick breakfast, loading Mark’s gear, and we were off to Oakhurst to get our permit and last minute supplies. Arriving at the visitor center we were informed that the FS person who issues permits is off Monday and Tuesday and we would have to drive to North Fork to get our permit. I immediately lost my cool as there was a bunch of people working at the center, including an NPS person (who knew absolutely nothing about Yosemite backpacking). It would seem that they could figure out some way to delegate responsibility to someone when the FS person is on days off. Mark’s cooler head prevailed and he got me out of there before they called the cops. Then we tracked down a radio shack so mark could buy a car charger for his cell phone (which remains in my car so I am not quite sure why he bought it to bring his phone up to full charge once. The good news is that it works for my new cell phone!).
After making last calls to Mark’s ex (don’t ask) and my sweetie and getting our permit we headed up the Beasore Road and could almost make it to the Chiquito TH. But were stopped by a large tree across the road about ½ mile short.. (We were saved the frustration on getting halted far short of the Quartz Mt. TH when Troutdog59 kindly agreed to check out the Sky Ranch road the previous Sat. and left me a message about road conditions (same as he posted in the forum last spring).
After spending the night at/near the TH we hiked the 3 miles to Chiquito Pass and then down to Gravelly Ford where I took my first pics of the trip. This was one of only 2 places where we actually had to ford a stream crossing. It was time for lunch and we took a ½ hour break before our second uphill trudge of the day. This was my first outing with a really heavy pack (for me) 47 lbs since my blocked artery got repaired. Since I had been monitoring my physical activity very carefully at the Cardiac Rehab Center at the Hospital and during my conditioning hikes I had a target heart rate I did not want to exceed. But Mark was a much better “governor” than my heartrate monitor. So every time he breathed a loud “whewwwwww!” I knew it was time for a break! We eventually followed the trail, then a last ¾ mile or so of cross country to avoid a tedious roundabout trail route to the trail crossing of Givens Creek. Though the “plan” such as it was, was to hike to Givens Lake, neither of us was up to that option. We found a great campsite about 150 yards below the ford that was far enough above the creek to avoid nighttime dew and sinking cold air.
Mark immediately headed for the creek but was stopped short and began grubbing around in the dirt (not all that unusual for him I discovered). I asked, “what are you doing?” He replied, “Come here!” Approaching Mark, he pointed down. “whoa” I exclaimed, “a machine gun!” “Naw, it must be some mining equipment.” No, it’s a machine gun from a plane wreck. See the aluminum attached to it? There must be a plane wreck around here.” Mark uncovered the relic a little better and finally agreed that I was correct (I can’t believe he ever questioned my judgement!) We scouted the area briefly but found no other signs of the wreck. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of the “lost flight” of P-40s that dropped over much of the sierra around 1940 (3 went down near my old ranger station at Roaring River). Next AM we cut to the trail and in less than 100 yards we encountered most of the wreckage. Since fishing was on our minds we took a couple pics but quickly intersected the trail and headed up to the top of the ridge then traversed over to Givens Lake. This was a delightful surprise, loaded with cooperative brookies ranging from 9 to 14 inches (that we caught). We kept dinner fish on snow and as usual mark caught the largest! Rather than backtracking we took a descending traverse back to the trail. I took a few more pics of the wreckage (after some convoluted internet searching I was able learn that the plane was a P-70 that had disappeared during a training mission out of Fresno around 1940 it was found the following late spring or early summer) then we had our usual premeal daiquiris and mark did his usual treatment of the fish (foil wrapped, in olive oil sauted garlic and a little seasoning) plus our new culinary discovery—instant potatoes with freezedryed mixed veggies. A small piece of dark chocolate with a nip of Grand marnier topped off the meal.
Not wanting to stress ourselves out too much day 3 involved a short hike over to Johnson Lake where we set up camp about 50 vertical ft above the water and quickly set out to fish. The lakeshore was pretty shallow but where fishable 9-10” RB were willing strikers. But the inlet stream was amazing—filled with hundreds of getting ready to spawn rainbows—all in the same size range.
The next morning, Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, dawned with an obvious change in the weather, cold overcast and blustery. We broke camp and headed up to Royal Arches Lake, a mere 1.5 miles away. After about a mile it began to spit snow and we met the first person of our trip other than ourselves. By the time we got to the lake it was snowing pretty hard and there were some substantial patches of the past winter’s snow as well. We quickly set up our tents and I blew up my Exped and got everything ready for an extended period in the tent. Before fishing I rounded up some dry wood and stashed it under a ledge. As expected we caught stunted brookies until the snowfall halted our desire to fish.
The next morning we were greeted with a winter wonderland maybe 4 inches but the poet mark utilizing his special license insists a foot! The weather was pretty miserable all day and the quality of the fish didn’t merit fishing so I took a few pics, read a lot, and trimmed a snagging fingernail and promptly dropped my knife with scissors open on my Exped but with no apparent damage. A couple of hours later I noticed the downmat was considerably deflated but I did not connect the loss of air to the dropped scissors until the next day when I checked the pad out in Buena Vista Lake and discovered a tiny pinhole right about where I dropped the knife. Later that evening at least one group of people joined us at Royal Arch. We helped them locate a suitable place to camp.
It was below 20° that night. Not fun but I survived to be greeted by bright sunshine the next morning, Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. With much of the trail covered by both new and old snow we had to pay a little attention to stay on route. But soon we met a couple then several more groups in succession, all cheery despite the past 2 days of inclimate weather or perhaps because of the delightful change in the weather. Arriving at Buena Vista lake there was one group camped about 100 yards down from the outlet. We looked for a sunny, high spot that was in the process of drying out. About the time we located a satisfactory site another, large group came up the trail from the north. They paused for a break and then moved on—the last people we would see until after getting back to the old 4 Runner. After setting up the tent my next task was to find and repair the leak. First dunk in the lake and the bubbles flowed! A couple minutes in the sun and the pad was dry. A small piece of duct tape and my featherbed was working again! Getting that taken care of allowed me to enjoy a little fishing and a pretty nice sunset. To be continued .......
Mike
The joint venture began when we met at Curry Village about 8:30 AM on May 21. A quick breakfast, loading Mark’s gear, and we were off to Oakhurst to get our permit and last minute supplies. Arriving at the visitor center we were informed that the FS person who issues permits is off Monday and Tuesday and we would have to drive to North Fork to get our permit. I immediately lost my cool as there was a bunch of people working at the center, including an NPS person (who knew absolutely nothing about Yosemite backpacking). It would seem that they could figure out some way to delegate responsibility to someone when the FS person is on days off. Mark’s cooler head prevailed and he got me out of there before they called the cops. Then we tracked down a radio shack so mark could buy a car charger for his cell phone (which remains in my car so I am not quite sure why he bought it to bring his phone up to full charge once. The good news is that it works for my new cell phone!).
After making last calls to Mark’s ex (don’t ask) and my sweetie and getting our permit we headed up the Beasore Road and could almost make it to the Chiquito TH. But were stopped by a large tree across the road about ½ mile short.. (We were saved the frustration on getting halted far short of the Quartz Mt. TH when Troutdog59 kindly agreed to check out the Sky Ranch road the previous Sat. and left me a message about road conditions (same as he posted in the forum last spring).
After spending the night at/near the TH we hiked the 3 miles to Chiquito Pass and then down to Gravelly Ford where I took my first pics of the trip. This was one of only 2 places where we actually had to ford a stream crossing. It was time for lunch and we took a ½ hour break before our second uphill trudge of the day. This was my first outing with a really heavy pack (for me) 47 lbs since my blocked artery got repaired. Since I had been monitoring my physical activity very carefully at the Cardiac Rehab Center at the Hospital and during my conditioning hikes I had a target heart rate I did not want to exceed. But Mark was a much better “governor” than my heartrate monitor. So every time he breathed a loud “whewwwwww!” I knew it was time for a break! We eventually followed the trail, then a last ¾ mile or so of cross country to avoid a tedious roundabout trail route to the trail crossing of Givens Creek. Though the “plan” such as it was, was to hike to Givens Lake, neither of us was up to that option. We found a great campsite about 150 yards below the ford that was far enough above the creek to avoid nighttime dew and sinking cold air.
Mark immediately headed for the creek but was stopped short and began grubbing around in the dirt (not all that unusual for him I discovered). I asked, “what are you doing?” He replied, “Come here!” Approaching Mark, he pointed down. “whoa” I exclaimed, “a machine gun!” “Naw, it must be some mining equipment.” No, it’s a machine gun from a plane wreck. See the aluminum attached to it? There must be a plane wreck around here.” Mark uncovered the relic a little better and finally agreed that I was correct (I can’t believe he ever questioned my judgement!) We scouted the area briefly but found no other signs of the wreck. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of the “lost flight” of P-40s that dropped over much of the sierra around 1940 (3 went down near my old ranger station at Roaring River). Next AM we cut to the trail and in less than 100 yards we encountered most of the wreckage. Since fishing was on our minds we took a couple pics but quickly intersected the trail and headed up to the top of the ridge then traversed over to Givens Lake. This was a delightful surprise, loaded with cooperative brookies ranging from 9 to 14 inches (that we caught). We kept dinner fish on snow and as usual mark caught the largest! Rather than backtracking we took a descending traverse back to the trail. I took a few more pics of the wreckage (after some convoluted internet searching I was able learn that the plane was a P-70 that had disappeared during a training mission out of Fresno around 1940 it was found the following late spring or early summer) then we had our usual premeal daiquiris and mark did his usual treatment of the fish (foil wrapped, in olive oil sauted garlic and a little seasoning) plus our new culinary discovery—instant potatoes with freezedryed mixed veggies. A small piece of dark chocolate with a nip of Grand marnier topped off the meal.
Not wanting to stress ourselves out too much day 3 involved a short hike over to Johnson Lake where we set up camp about 50 vertical ft above the water and quickly set out to fish. The lakeshore was pretty shallow but where fishable 9-10” RB were willing strikers. But the inlet stream was amazing—filled with hundreds of getting ready to spawn rainbows—all in the same size range.
The next morning, Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, dawned with an obvious change in the weather, cold overcast and blustery. We broke camp and headed up to Royal Arches Lake, a mere 1.5 miles away. After about a mile it began to spit snow and we met the first person of our trip other than ourselves. By the time we got to the lake it was snowing pretty hard and there were some substantial patches of the past winter’s snow as well. We quickly set up our tents and I blew up my Exped and got everything ready for an extended period in the tent. Before fishing I rounded up some dry wood and stashed it under a ledge. As expected we caught stunted brookies until the snowfall halted our desire to fish.
The next morning we were greeted with a winter wonderland maybe 4 inches but the poet mark utilizing his special license insists a foot! The weather was pretty miserable all day and the quality of the fish didn’t merit fishing so I took a few pics, read a lot, and trimmed a snagging fingernail and promptly dropped my knife with scissors open on my Exped but with no apparent damage. A couple of hours later I noticed the downmat was considerably deflated but I did not connect the loss of air to the dropped scissors until the next day when I checked the pad out in Buena Vista Lake and discovered a tiny pinhole right about where I dropped the knife. Later that evening at least one group of people joined us at Royal Arch. We helped them locate a suitable place to camp.
It was below 20° that night. Not fun but I survived to be greeted by bright sunshine the next morning, Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. With much of the trail covered by both new and old snow we had to pay a little attention to stay on route. But soon we met a couple then several more groups in succession, all cheery despite the past 2 days of inclimate weather or perhaps because of the delightful change in the weather. Arriving at Buena Vista lake there was one group camped about 100 yards down from the outlet. We looked for a sunny, high spot that was in the process of drying out. About the time we located a satisfactory site another, large group came up the trail from the north. They paused for a break and then moved on—the last people we would see until after getting back to the old 4 Runner. After setting up the tent my next task was to find and repair the leak. First dunk in the lake and the bubbles flowed! A couple minutes in the sun and the pad was dry. A small piece of duct tape and my featherbed was working again! Getting that taken care of allowed me to enjoy a little fishing and a pretty nice sunset. To be continued .......
Mike