I’d carefully planned my altitude acclimation: one night with Markskor in Mammoth (around 8000’), a second night at a campground in Bishop Canyon (around 9500’), an easy first day in to Saddlerock Lake (about 10,500’), and by then I figured I would be good for Bishop Pass and what lay after.
Monday 9/1. I arrive in California, drive to Mammoth and have a great time with Markskor, who turns out to be one helluva cook (thanks again, Mark!), and I enjoy wandering around Mammoth a bit.
- Markskor in his kitchen.
Wednesday 9/3. I drive down to Bishop, where I meet Mary, finalize plans, and drive my rental Corolla to the Taboose Pass trailhead with Mary following, to set up our shuttle. I take the road slowly and gently and my rental car does just fine. Then back up to the Bishop Pass TH for a relatively late start around 4:00 PM.
- Bsquared at the Bishop Pass TH.
- South Lake, what there is of it.
- Campsite above Saddlerock Lake.
, and then head down.
I hobble down to lake 10,742, where I’m supposed to rendezvous with Mary that evening, and I sit down and take stock. The cross-country adventure looks very doubtful at this point, and I even momentarily consider heading back up to the pass to abort the trip entirely, but of course I don’t have a car there anymore. Going down hurts, though descending into LeConte Canyon would be the obvious thing to do if it’s altitude that’s causing my problems. However, the symptoms aren’t at all like what I’m used to—no headache, for example. I dither for a long time and finally decide to make camp as planned but make bloody sure that Mary can find me. I find a good campsite well off the trail and across the stream and go down to the stream and wash, but I’m so exhausted and uncoordinated that I fall over in the stream and hit my back on a rock, hard: just what I need. Thoroughly discouraged, I hang around by the stream until Mary shows up around 5:00 PM, which buoys my spirits considerably. I notice that evening as I write in my journal that my handwriting looks like I’m about 105 years old. I feel it.
Friday 9/5. Next morning things look a bit better.
- Atmospherics over Agassiz
Unfortunately, the descent into LeConte Canyon is pure torture, at least at the beginning. I’m still uncoordinated so I have to pick my way down very carefully, my hips still hurt, and I still have to stop every 15 minutes to rest and readjust the pack. I really can’t trust myself to do the cross-country, and Mary—proving herself the best sport in the entire world—assures me that the work we’d planned on at her field site can be done on another trip, and I shouldn’t worry; we can do any of several simpler trips. I worry nonetheless. However, although I can barely allow myself the hope, as we descend into LeConte Canyon things seem very slowly to be getting better: the hips hurt less, the pack seems to be slipping less, and the rests come at longer intervals. By the time we reach the ranger station and have lunch, I’m optimistic but still not willing to risk the cross-country piece. We tentatively plan to switch our route to the much more gradual JMT route over Mather Pass, and also to break up the Taboose-Pass descent by camping in the middle. The level trail from the ranger station to the junction of Palisade Creek with the Middle Fork goes fast and easily, the way it’s supposed to. The gentle climb to Deer Meadow is also quick and trouble-free. The three of us find a very pleasant campsite just below Deer Meadow and enjoy ourselves. This is much more like it!
- Mary and Rosie at campsite near Deer Meadow.
- Panorama of Palisades from campsite above Palisade Lakes.
Sunday 9/7. We go over Mather Pass, and I reminisce about the JMT through-hike I did with my son in 2005. Upper Basin has got to be one of the most spectacular places in the Sierra, but you know, there’s a lot of spectacular scenery to choose from in the Sierra… A few clouds have moved in (it has been absolutely crystal clear since the beginning of the trip, with warm days and near-freezing nights).
- Venacher needle (etc.) from Upper Basin.
The view west from Taboose is incredible; “Quite an introduction to the Sierra, eh?” says Mary.
- Looking west from Taboose Past near sunset. Arrow Peak and Bench Lake are in the left-center middle ground.
We stop just after sunset around the 10,000’ level and make camp. There are quite a few clouds that night, but we assume they’re just the usual evening Sierra clouds. Nope. Around midnight it begins to rain in earnest, so we execute the usual fire drill, hastily buttoning down and dragging packs into tents. Ah well, into every life…
Monday 9/8. We get up early and continue going down, down, down, getting to the rented Corolla in the early afternoon. It is obviously autumn: there are incredible quantities of berries of nearly every sort: elderberries by the ton, gooseberries, and even coffee berries. We wonder why the bears aren't eating them, then discover large quantities of seed-laden bear poop: they are eating them!
We had offered a ride to a guy we met in Upper Basin, so we hang around until around 4:00, when he pops out. We drive him to his car at Onion Valley, and then an unexpected highlight of the trip: Mary introduces me to the French bistro "Still Life Cafe" in Independence! (It is falsely rumored to be closed on Monday, although that would certainly be in good French tradition.) Wow, a good French dinner after a backpacking trip. Life is good. ☺So, really an excellent trip in the end, though not without its challenges and discouraging moments. It does appear that the hip pain and coordination problems were altitude related, since the descent down Taboose caused none of the symptoms I experienced descending from Bishop, but it’s an entirely new kind of altitude problem for me. Has anyone else on the board experienced this kind of difficulty at altitude? Any other insights? Suggestions for future acclimation? I’m thinking maybe a week or so in Tuolumne Meadows before the next trip: oh, dear, what a sacrifice!
), but I'd be astonished if it had been over 45 pounds. It weighted in about 38 at home, with a full water bottle.
