R04/R01 TR: 8/7 thru 8/17 - Red, White & Blue & Tunemah, too - Part1 2022

[paul]

Red for Red Rock and Red Mountain basins; white for the White Divide; Blue for Blue Canyon; and, well, Tunemah!
This trip had been in the planning for a long time, inspired in part by a ski trip that I took that crossed the range through some of this area.
But one thing or another over the past five years got in the way of actually doing it. But finally, this year things worked out, so that early on Sunday morning, August 7th, I walked away from the Maxson trailhead near Courtright reservoir under a clear blue sky. The morning was brisk. The parking lot was probably half full – more on that later. A sizable youth group was gathering at the trailhead, and I hurried off to get ahead of them. As it turned out I never saw them on the trail though I hear some sort of cheering behind me soon after I left the trailhead. The first bit of this route is on the Dusy/Ershim 4WD route, but soon the foot and stock trail branches off to the right. I’d heard of this being a loose, sandy trail – I think that recent rains had firmed up the usually soft sand of this part of the trail, because it was firmer than I had expected, good walking through the forest. I saw no one until I reached the junction near Chamberlain’s Camp, right at the wilderness boundary, where I saw a Scout group coming out, and a couple other people also heading out. The leader of the Scout group said it had been rainy their first couple days, but great after that. I wouldn’t see anyone else for a couple of days.

This must be where the good stuff starts!

Soon I reached the junction for Hobler Lake, and Immediately it is obvious that you are leaving the main drag. The trail to Hobler is clearly much less traveled. The lake itself is quite nice, with a sandy shore in places.

Hobler Lake

Some parts look a little marshy, and I was would expect some skeeter activity, but none appeared while I stopped here for a rest and snack break. From Hobler I headed down towards Burnt Corral Creek, on a trail that again showed less travel. Clearly most of the people who reach Hobler Lake do not go beyond it. Meeting the trail coming up Burnt Corral Creek, I turned left and headed upstream. The trail was lightly used – and I had the impression, not just here but throughout the trip, of a trail that had once seen a lot more use. There were many downed trees across the trail.
My destination for the day was Red Rock Basin. Maps I had looked at disagreed on whether there was a trail heading off from the trail I was on and leading up into the basin. I kept an eye out and found what looked like a route branching off roughly where the Harrison map shows one, with an obvious creek crossing. No sign of a path per se, but there were ducks. After a break at the creek, I started off following the ducks. As usual I wondered if the effort of looking for the ducks was worth it, given that all I had to do was keep going up and right and I was bound to reach the next creek which I would then follow upstream into the basin. On the other hand, in the forest it’s hard to see any landmarks, and the small terrain features that don’t show up among the 80 foot contours can be confusing. So, I looked for ducks. And there were plenty, despite very few spots showing any signs of use.
I ended my day at a nice spot next to a pond – though precisely which pond I was not sure at that point. Clouds had been building during the day, and by now the sky was probably half covered with some dark stuff to the east. But given the usual Sierra weather patterns, it seemed late in the day for any thunderstorms. Still no bugs to speak of – and that would be a trend, I never broke out the juice the entire trip.
In the morning the sky was mostly cloud, and shortly after I had packed up and started off, I felt a few drops. So, I got out the poncho and got set up, by which time it had stopped. I kept the poncho deployed on the pack but off of me, so that I had it ready just in case.

Red Rock Basin

Reddy's Hole

Looking at the map to start my day, I had realized just where I was, and now I was breaking off of what the map shows as trail to head east across the lower part of the basin towards Reddy’s Hole. Lovely walk – meadows, ponds, streams, then up over a ridge and contouring on slabs above Reddy’s Hole and around the shoulder of Zingheim Heights into Upper Indian Lake. Just before I arrived there another shower hit, this one more like the real thing but still only 5 or 10 minutes. Sandy beaches on the shore of the lake were tempting, but I kept feeling a drop or two, and pictured the next shower hitting just as I was wading with socks and shoes sitting on the shore. So I ate a snack but did not wade. And sure enough, just as I was saddling up, the next shower came on, this one heavy enough that I stopped and put on rain pants.
By the time I reached Lower Indian Lake, the shower was fading out. I left the trail again here, planning to head cross country to Dale Lake. But that would be the next day, as I was tired and upon crossing Fleming Creek, I found a decent spot and stopped for the night. Through all of the showers I heard only one distant peal of thunder and never saw the least flash of lightning. The clouds have not looked like typical thunderheads, forming in place – they seem to be moving in from the south/southeast.
After dinner, as I was reading in the tent, there was another brief shower and I heard a few distant peals of thunder. Did not see anyone all day.
The next morning it was off up the slope through the forest towards Dale Lake. I had skied through here in 2011; we came over the ridge from Reddy’s Hole, dropped right down to Lower Indian Lake which we skied across, and headed up to Dale Lake where we camped. So, I was confident I could hit it again, despite the thick forest. But apparently I am a better navigator with snow than without, because I angled up too steeply and found myself on a ridge above the lake to its north. Ah well, the view was better from there anyway. I ate breakfast, admiring the view. I like to walk for a bit in the morning before breakfast, usually finding a nice spot in the sun with a view.
From there I rolled over the ridge heading south to meet the trail that comes from Rae and Fleming lakes up towards Hell for Sure Pass. Catching that, I then turned off towards Devil’s Punch Bowl, dropping down to cross a very pretty stream before the short climb up the lake. And what a lake that is. – sandy beaches, little granite peninsulas poking out into the lake, nice cliff backdrop, and a little bit of a ridge on the west that is perfect for sunset watching. It was only late morning but I decided to stay, it was so nice. I passed up a bunch of obvious campsites that are much to near the lake, and found a good one at a proper distance. The sky was still cloudy, had been all day, same story of solid cloud moving through from the southeast. After lunch there were a number of short showers, mostly light, but one quite intense for a few minutes. I spent a pleasant afternoon, strolling around, wading, just enjoying the lake. A group of 5 or 6 folks arrived while I was looking for a campsite, and promptly moved into some of the sites much too close to the lake. Perhaps their idea of a hundred feet was just way off the mark.

The Devil's Beach

The clouds thinned out a bit towards evening, but still made for a lovely sunset show, which I watched from the little ridge on the west, as the sun dropped down below the rim of the clouds out beyond Courtright. The finale was the almost full moon, through a break in the clouds, rising over the ridge southeast of the lake, just after the sun had gone down. With a better camera, or perhaps a more skilled photographer, it could have been a great shot. As it is, I have a blurry photo of it – but fortunately a clear memory of it.

The show begins

Up early and on my way under a nearly cloudless sky, I passed by Little and Big shot Lakes, and had breakfast at the top of the granite ramp above Big Shot Lake. Passing by the little unnamed lake that sits in the upper bowl, I saw what looked like horse manure. Either it was not that, and a bear had been eating a lot of grass or hair, or there is a much easier route up to that little basin which was not obvious to me, because I can’t imagine even a mule getting up there by any route I had seen.

Big Shot Lake

Bench Valley From Lucifer's Saddle

Up and over Lucifer’s Saddle – both parts – was pretty straightforward. I love the changing color of the rock in that area, and the views in all directions from the Saddle are great. By the time I reached the saddle, clouds were beginning to form and/or moving in from the southeast. Dropping down from the saddle, I headed for Schoolmarm Lake where I had a rest and a snack and watched the fish jump and the clouds go by. Then over towards Twin Buck Lakes. I spent a magical hour or so following the outlet from the eastern twin down to Roman Four and then Horsehead Lake. Just a lovely little stream winding through meadows and granite, going from a few inches wide in a crack in the rocks, to a forty foot wide shallow pool, to a sheet flowing over a granite slab, to a nearly subterranean groove in a meadow, on and on in continuous variation. An absolute delight. The last bit to Horsehead was a bit of a thrash, with willows and such, but at that point I felt a gratitude and loyalty to the stream such that I felt I had to do the thing right, so I stayed as close to the stream as I could.

A lovely stream

At Horsehead a saw a guy from a distance, we exchanged waves. Later from the far side of the lake I saw his buddy and their tent. Did not see anyone else today.
At Horsehead I got on a trail again, and rolled down past Guest Lake to McGuire lakes where I camped by the outlet.
And then, down and down into the North Fork of the Kings River, though a lovely forest including some really nice Sierra Junipers. An easy crossing of the river, on a log just above where the trail hit it, and a pleasant stroll upstream. Along the way I met a couple packers taking a couple Department of Water Resources guys out, they having been up to Lightning Corral Meadow to service the remote weather station and snow sensor up there. Only people I saw that day. The hoof prints of the stock proved to be an excellent clue as to where to cross the river and start up towards Lightning Corral – which was my destination for the day. I had a rough idea where that would be, but it was easy to spot where the stock left the trail, and cross close to where they forded. Once across it was easy to just head up the hill across wide open granite slabs – though pretty warm work, out in the sun on that granite. A few clouds had collected but not much, so shade was welcome in between areas of granite.

Lightning Corral Meadow

Lightning Corral Meadow proved to be a lovely spot, a big green meadow surrounded by granite peaks. The scale of Blackcap Basin is pretty big. Unlike Bench valley, which is broken up into separate spaces, Blackcap feels more like one huge basin. As I sat admiring the view, I reflected on how few people I had seen so far. There were a good number of cars at the trailhead when I left, and yet I’d seen so few people that I wonder where they could have gone. There aren’t really that many destinations you could be heading to if you start from that trailhead, and it seemed like I had been to most of the areas, though certainly not to every lake. I guess it’s just a case of a lot of space for people to disperse in.

[paul]

Heading out in the morning under a cloudless sky, I promptly found my one and only mylar balloon of the trip – a big blue fish/whale/dolphin? – something aquatic, anyway. Soon I was at Division Lake for breakfast, watching more fish jump than I have even seen before. Numerous trout about 8” long were visible from the shore. I had seen fish in most of the lakes and some of the streams along the way, always about that size.

Breakfast with a view

Portal Lake

After Division, I went past Pearl and Portal Lakes. Portal seemed smaller to me than what I remembered from having been there about thirty years ago. Then over the ridge into Crown Basin. I was headed for Mantle Pass, but rather than the usual route up past Hummingbird Lake, I decided to try the drainage just north of that, as it seemed like I would have to lose a bit less elevation that way. It worked out okay, though the line I took meant that I had a bit of a willow thrash to cross the stream. Staying a bit lower until after crossing the stream would probably have been easier. But once across the stream it was easy, if steep, getting up to a nice little hanging valley and an easy slope up toward the final steep bit to the pass. I could never see down into Hummingbird Lake. Saw a lizard and a little snake pretty close to the pass. I wonder how long those little guys have to hibernate – I’m surprised to see them this high. Also in this area, I found an odd piece of metal – steel, rusty in a patina sort of way as if it had been there a long time, a couple of connected loops. I would think very few people have gone that way I went, and that thing looks like it had been there a fairly long time. The only things I could think of is that it could be part of a rifle sight, or possibly something out of an aircraft. I didn’t see anything else in the area.

Meadow above Hummingbird Lake

At the top of the pass, big views open up down Blue Canyon to the Monarch divide and beyond, but you can’t see much of the upper part of the basin with the lakes due to the shape of the terrain. I got my first view of Dykeman Pass, and from here it looked rather forbidding. But I told myself that once I got closer it would look easier – that seems to be how it usually goes for me.
A short talus hop got me down to the lake on the Blue Canyon side of the pass, and from there it is mostly a slabby, descending contour sort of thing – although a lot of navigating micro- terrain that doesn’t show upon 80 foot contours – to get down to the lakes. After a break at the first lake that I came to, I headed over a short rise to the next one. Along the way I came a small tarn that looked very inviting – the water in those small tarns is often pretty warm by afternoon. And so it proved to be, as I had a refreshing bath. Feeling much cleaner, I continued to the lake (which is the one just east of the point marked 10518 on the HST map), and down its outlet a bit to a little meadow where I found a campsite. Looking up at Dykeman pass from here it seemed much less forbidding than it had from Mantle pass, and I could look forward to tomorrow’s ascent.

The first lake I came to in Blue Canyon

[paul]

Waking to another cloudless sky, I was off and heading for Dykeman Pass. It turned out to be simple enough, and I think you could take any of several lines to get to the top just fine. Stopped about halfway up once I had sun and ate breakfast with a pretty good view. The geology of Blue Canyon is interesting – I am no geologist but I enjoy all the different colored rocks.

Blue Canyon from my breakfast spot

From the top you have the Blue Canyon basin laid out for you on one side, and on the other things get big as you look out over range after range of peaks fading into the distance. There sure are a bunch of mountains out there!

From Dykeman Pass

If you really like talus, you could contour out of the pass to the northeast heading toward Tunemah. But I dropped down to keep the talus to a minimum and then strolled through the meadows along Alpine Creek, up past a little lake at the foot of the headwall, and huffed and puffed up to the saddle that leads to the big T. I found it somehow different than I expected. Less barren, I think. Of course, perfect weather, with a cloudless sky on a warm day with no wind will make a place seem more welcoming. I imagine that under a grey and forbidding sky and in a howling wind, the place would not seem so friendly. The water was beautifully clear; but I saw no fish.

The lovely valley of Alpine Creek - and points south

Tunemah!

The Little basin east of Tunemah

I ate lunch and enjoyed the massive views, down into Goddard Creek and off to the south and east over a sea of peaks. Then I was off and up the ridge to the north.

Tunemah - and what seems like the rest of the world - from the ridge to the north

This was the most doubtful bit of my route, - I had heard it was possible to get over this ridge, or perhaps over the top of the peak just north of the lake, down into the next drainage, and from there over a saddle into the basin north of Blue Canyon Peak and Finger Peak. But the folks who had done it were pretty capable mountaineers, and I had my doubts about how feasible it would be for me. I headed up with some trepidation. On reaching the ridge, I found myself at the top of a sort of chute that had a lot of loose stuff at the top and then steep talus further down. But it looked like it would go, so rather than continue on up over the peak in search of something better, I started down before I could start thinking about it too much. The loose bit was not fun. This stuff is just about right at the angle of repose, so any move you make starts something sliding. I found I could get over the left against the more or less solid side of the chute and hang on to that while I worked my way down. After a short but intense bit, I was on to the talus, which though steep and strenuous, at least felt like it would stay put as long as I was reasonably careful about which blocks I stepped on and how. I continued the dance down to the bottom of the little cirque that nestles between Blue Canyon Peak and the peak just north of Tunemah. There I stopped for a rest and a snack, and sat there thinking what a relief it was to get successfully over that ridge and down to where I was, and also that of all the places I have been in the Sierra, that little cirque is probably the least visited.

Looking back up at what I wouldn't want to descend again

Somewhat rested and refreshed, but still feeling the effort of having come over Dykeman, up to Tunemah, and over the ridge from there, I started up over the shoulder of Blue Canyon peak to reach the saddle I was aiming for. That was straightforward, over slabby granite, and from the shoulder the views of the basin opened up, revealing the several lakes and their surrounding bits of forest. I worked my way down the lake sort of in the middle, and found a site to camp. I was thoroughly beat, but it had been a very satisfying day. I ate my dinner sitting out on the granite slabs and admiring the evening light on the Ragged Spur.

The basin north of Finger Peak

Dinner with a view

[paul]

The next morning I was moving by 6:15, working my way up the west slope of the bowl, passing by a few little lakes, and stopping for breakfast at a larger lake that sits directly southeast of MT. Reinstein at about 11k. Lovely little spot. Then up over the slabs and shelves to Reinstein Pass and a magnificent view to the north and down Goddard Canyon. Just a bit of Martha Lake is visible from the pass. I looked left and valor Pass is right next door – doesn’t look too bad, seems like mostly blocky granite with some talus.

Climbing out of the 10232 basin

North from Reinstein Pass

Martha Lake from halfway down

Getting down the shores of the divine miss M was easy, some talus but not bad at all. The water of the lake is spectacularly clear. The lake looks big enough from above, but once down on the shore it feels huge.

The divine Miss M

Old Man of the Mountain? south shore of Martha

I had something to eat, waded a bit and enjoyed the surroundings. Looking at the terrain it seemed like the longer way around by the east side would be easier, so I went that way, and after crossing the eastern inlet I angled up onto the ridge that sits on the north side of the lake. And what a marvelous stroll it was on top of that little rounded ridge, with views in all directions, on a smooth grassy/gravelly surface. Wonderful. And here I intersected again with my ski trip route. We had come over from Red Mountain basin by way of a saddle above Arctic Lake, and up Goddard canyon, then headed east just below Martha Lake to climb up onto the plateau north of Martha, thence over a saddle to Davis Lake. I could see just where we went up from the smaller of the two lakes just north of Martha to get to the plateau. And remembered that right around here we had seen a whole bunch of coyote tracks converging on one little area. I guess there must have been a den, but we did not get to see any coyotes, just lots of tracks. I never saw any coyotes on this trip, and was never certain that I heard any.

Little lake just north of Martha - I skied right up the middle of this photo in 2011 to reach the plateau above

Martha Lake had been in my mind as a destination for many years, and though I had seen it covered in snow I still felt as though I hadn’t really been there, so it was a great satisfaction and tremendous pleasure to finally walk around it.

Mt Goddard looms over Martha Lake

Heading for the outlet, I looked for the trail that comes up from the canyon, but I didn’t find it at first. I did find a red bandana, which I thought from a distance must be another mylar balloon. Given where it was, close to the outlet and right out in the open, I figured someone must have dropped it that day, as it would have blown away if it had been there long. I started down valley, and didn’t find the trail until I was a ways below the outlet. Soon after that I spotted a few people just ahead on the trail. Humans! This was the afternoon of my ninth day and I hadn’t seen anyone since the morning of my fifth day. Sure enough, one of them was missing a bandana and had not realized it yet. They said they were camped a bit lower and had been up to the lake for lunch. They were planning to go over Gunsight Pass the next day. I passed them and headed down the trail – soon after I saw one more person ahead of me who I am guessing was part of their group, since soon after I passed by a few tents but below that I never saw that last person again. I assume he reached the campsite and I passed it without seeing him there.

Looking down Goddard Canyon

The south Fork of the San Joaquin, as it runs down Goddard Canyon, is often in a narrow chute so that in many places it is hard to get at the water. So in looking for a campsite it’s largely about finding a spot to access the stream and then finding a level spot to go with it. I ended up crossing the river and finding a spot on the other side. Some clouds had gathered during the day, but given their state and the time of day, it seemed unlikely that they would get together enough to make something happen, and indeed that turned out to be the case, there was no rain. Sunset was pretty early down there in the canyon bottom, but I had a nice slab of dark rock near my spot that was warm from the sun so that after the sun was down, I had a heated seat for dinner.

[paul]

I woke earlier than usual the next day, while the moon was still shining into the canyon. I was packed and on the trail by 6 AM. Strolling down the valley I came to a meadow where the early light and the view down canyon was very nice – but beyond my photographic means to capture. A bit later I thought I’d check out the channel of the river, and found I had picked just the spot, where the narrow channel comes down via a series of small falls just before turning a sudden right angle with a fall in it. Pretty cool.

An early start in Goddard Canyon

The chute

Soon I reached the junction where the trail heads up towards Hell for Sure Pass. Or maybe I shouldn’t say heads “up”. The trail is cruel, in that it goes up, then down, and up, then down until after coming about three miles from the junction, and almost never on a level trail, you are at just about the same elevation as you were to start with. Well, at least the rocks along the way and the views of the canyon are nice.

Still early on the Hell for Sure Pass trail

I found a nice little bench for breakfast. And I identified where my ski buddy and I had come down from our crossing of the ridge above Arctic Lake.
Once you start up for real, the trail does not mess around, climbing steeply through the forest and brush up into the alpine zone, with the rocks changing as you go. You pass through a nice little alpine meadow just below the final slope to the pass. I recalled, as I climbed to the pass, coming up here in 1974 with three teenage buddies. We had skipped all the wacky up and down on the trail; we came up Goddard Canyon from the JMT only until we were directly below the pass, then scrambled straight up the side of the canyon in a direct shot to the pass. We always referred to it in later years as having come up “the hell for sure way”. Given my new experience of the trail’s ups and downs. I think we made a wise choice back in the day – especially as trail hardened teenagers for whom the steepest route was always the fastest.
At the pass, there is a signpost but no sign. What I have heard is that the sign had to be replaced so many times, people being covetous of a sign saying “Hell for Sure Pass”, that the powers that be, whether Forest Service or Park Service (the pass is on the boundary between Sierra National Forest and SEKI), gave up. True or not, I can say that the weather-beaten wood post is a thing of beauty even without a sign, its grain carved into nice relief by the elements.

Artistically carved post

The view to the east is limited by the shape of the terrain, but the view of Red Mountain Basin and points west is expansive, dominated by Hell for Sure Lake. I soaked it in while I snacked.

Red Mountain Basin from Hell for Sure Pass

After a steep plunge down to HFS lake, I followed its lovely outlet stream for a bit, then angled off past a couple little unnamed lakes and below Blackrock Lake to Devils Punchbowl, where I arrived a bit after noon to find I had it all to myself, other than wildlife. Clouds had gathered, and a few drops were falling as I arrived at the lake. I had the tent up before the real showers began. There were brief showers now and then during the afternoon, under a solid ceiling of grey. In the late afternoon it was very still and almost eerie, the silent stillness under the unmoving roof of cloud. At one point I could see lots of little rings on the lake, of drops falling on it, yet I could not feel any drops at all. I wondered if perhaps conditions were such that tiny drops hit the lake but evaporated before reaching to ground – the difference being water surface temperature and ground surface temperature? Or maybe the drops were so tiny that I did not feel them yet they still had an effect on the water surface. Either way, an interesting experience.
After dinner I walked up to the little rise on the west of the lake to see any sunset action. A very light rain, just the occasional drop, was falling at first. It turned out to be quite the show, with sort of two sunsets, as the sun first dropped below the edge of the main cloud mass, so that is shone through to where I was and to the surrounding peaks; then went behind a secondary bank of clouds lower or further west, then got below that for another show before dropping below the horizon. All along the light was changing color and intensity and the clouds were being lit up in new variations of color. At one point, a faint rainbow appeared above the ridge south of Big Shot Lake. I took a lot of photos and a few came out OK.

In the morning a shower hit just after I woke up - as usual, a brief one. One or two more occurred in the next hour or two. I had intended to stay at the Punchbowl for a good portion of the day, but this weather had me wondering. Now and then areas of blue would appear, teasingly, then back to solid grey. It was fairly warm, had been the warmest night of the trip, I think. The air was very still, the surface of the lake was like glass. I wandered around, took a brief swim in the lake, and finally decided that I might as well get on the road, since rain seemed more likely as the day went on, given the usual Sierra patterns.

[paul]

A still grey morning

I started down the trail that meets the Hell for Sure trail, then broke off at the bottom of the hill to follow the stream down the valley. That turned out to be a good move, as it is a lovely stream and pretty easy walking. Down in the bottom, I came across some old blazes – apparently there used to be a trail coming through there. One blaze had the bark grown almost over it, so that the marks were several inches deep into the tree. After a while I turned away from the stream to angle up toward the trail that comes from Fleming Lake headed toward Post Corral Creek. I reached it soon. I’m pretty sure that route was quicker than if I had stayed on the trails. Whether it was nicer I can’t say, since I haven’t been on the sections of trail I skipped.

Another lovely stream

Nature's quarrying operation

The trail crosses over a ridge and begins to drop down to Post Corral creek. Partway down a I met a couple of rangers, one with a big crosscut saw, out a trailwork patrol. They were heading up to the Punchbowl, and maybe up to Lower Indian as well, cutting any trees that were down as they went. They were planning to “cut their way” as they put it, down the Meadow Brook Trail and up the North Fork of the Kings as far as they had time to go. We had a brief chat and one of them showed me an old USGS quad on his phone that showed the old trail that I crossed below the Punchbowl. He said he had been in there recently himself, on an off-duty hike. Parting from the rangers, I continued down past some massive and beautiful Sierra Junipers into the dense forest of the valley bottom.

Sierra Juniper

I enjoy the variety of trees that you see in the forests between 8000 and 9000 feet, with the junipers, the big lodgepoles, some red firs, and I think some Jeffrey pines – at least when I stuck my nose in the bark I detected that vanilla smell that I have been told is the mark of the Jeffrey. But whatever species they were, they were big beautiful trees.
Down at the creek and the junction, I stopped for a rest and snack. I had been thinking I would end my day somewhere around here, taking it easy today and the last day. But there is no camping allowed near the junction/crossing, so I figured I’d go up the trail a bit and find a spot. As I started off again, it began to rain lightly. Soon it was raining harder, and I didn’t want top stop and set up in the rain, so I figured I’d keep going until the rain stopped, assuming it would be the usual fifteen minute shower. It was quite nice walking through the forest in the rain – and as usual I saw no one, had seen no one except the rangers that day, and had seen no one the day before. Well, an hour and a half later, the rain finally eased off, and I was all the way to the Hobler Lake junction, which is about at the high point where the ascent out of the Post Corral Creek drainage becomes the descent into Courtright., and there is no water source nearby. At that point I decided I might as well just keep going to the trailhead, since I was so close. So, I did the last few miles of beautiful forest, with no rain to speak of, just a drop now and then. There were fewer cars at the trailhead than before, I’d say less than half as many – but still, some – so where were these people and why had I seen so few while I was out? I guess it will remain a mystery.

A fond farewell

All in all, it was a great trip. I had perfect weather when I needed it, with a little rain for variety at times when it didn’t cramp my style. Amazingly few people. Amazingly few bugs. No smoke! Got to visit some places I’d been wanting to see for a long time.

[paul]

On yet another cloudless morning, I strolled down the valley to Goddard creek, and then upstream along it, though lovely meadows and forest, to spectacular confines of Lake 10232. How this lake has never managed to get a name, while the even more remote Lake Tunemah has, is beyond me. The setting is so amazing, it feels like a Norwegian fjord, with the cliffs at the north end, and waterfalls cascading down. I imagined what it must be like earlier in the year when the big runoff is going – the whole north end of the bowl must be covered with cascades.

Goddard Creek

Goddard Creek

Lake 10232

Still feeling the effects of my exertions of the day before, I made this a short day, and lounged and read by the shore of the lake for the rest of the morning and all afternoon. The usual 8” trout were visible close to the shore.

Local denizen

The beauty of the tree outlives the tree

[zacjust32]

Mods: can these TRs be combined into one thread please?

[zacjust32]

Nice trip! I did Goddard via HFS a few years ago and next time I'll have to spend more time and make my way to Tunemah. Goddard creek drainage south of Martha looks like a pretty isolated place to explore.

[ironmike]

Nice trip! I did Goddard via HFS a few years ago and next time I'll have to spend more time and make my way to Tunemah. Goddard creek drainage south of Martha looks like a pretty isolated place to explore.

And for good reason…you’d better love bushwhacking.