Re: TR: PCT-SHR Donner to Piute Pass Jul 13-Aug 10 2016
Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2016 9:52 pm
paul -- thanks! here's some more
balzaccom -- well that makes perfect sense: a mattock, of course -- thanks for clarifying
old and slow -- glad to know I have a fellow sufferer -- I have only ever experienced one windier night camping than the one at Aloha and I had a canoe that I could set up as a windbreak -- a canoe this time would have been nice but portaging it all that way would have been rough -- thanks
Troutdog 59 -- thanks for sharing your story and memories
July 24 — Day 12: 6.0 hrs, 10.5 miles, +1975/-1575
A First Encounter With Old Man Willow
The plan for this day had always been to take it relatively easy, so I tried to sleep in but a jay in the tree above my tent took to squawking at 5:30 AM and I finally gave in to its demands and rousted myself out of bed at the luxurious hour of 7 AM. The goal for the next three days was to make my way south and east by trail and cross country travel to Spiller Creek Canyon where I would join the Sierra High Route. I wanted to stay as high as possible for reasons obvious to everyone on this forum and also to get some more straightforward off trail experience to supplement the meager two days I had logged in the Winds last summer. So after stretching my morning routine to an unseemly two hours, I started back up Kennedy Canyon and picked up the trail (former road) that goes right up over Peak 10825 on its way to High Emigrant Lake and Emigrant Pass. While studying the maps last winter I thought this had to be the craziest idea ever, but of course if you really do need a road between Kennedy Canyon and the Emigrant Lakes this is where you have to put it. In any case, the grade was mercifully shallow and after eating enough high octane food for second breakfast I started feeling pretty good.
The north side of Peak 10825 was barren and rocky, but at the top and all the way down to High Emigrant Lake, Emigrant Pass and Grizzly Meadow the wildflowers were putting on another show. A low key affair due to the relative lack of water, but I found several varieties I had not noticed before. And the views down to the Emigrant Lakes were simply beautiful — lakes near and far with meadows in between and white granite slopes with just the right dusting of conifers. I ate lunch at High Emigrant Lake at the dammed outlet stream, and made my way over Emigrant Pass which was sort of a non-event given how broad it is. My original plan was to spend the night in Grizzly Meadow, but I found it a little uninspiring compared to what I had been seeing, so I decided to press on south and east around Grizzly Peak on the high trail that stays well above Summit Meadow. The trail is not well defined and fades out in places, particularly where it crosses the seasonal creek beds where the willows get thick. The first couple times this happened I just tried bulling my way through, doing the bushwhacking thing that unnecessarily saps energy. But even at my age I can learn new tricks, and started spending the time to scout for narrower expanses and going “with the grain” when possible. As a result, there were a few times where I thought Old Man Willow was leading me down the Withywindle, but we reached a truce of sorts at East Fork Cherry Creek where a rock outcrop with views of Summit Meadow and Snow Lake virtually begged to be camped on. So I did. The day was hot and the creek was warm, so I did another round of laundry and bathing. Exploring and photography followed. As the sun set I was worried that I was seeing smoke from fires on the horizon, but I didn’t smell anything. It took me a while to realize that if it was hot up here, it must be blazing down below and that it was smog after all. I had not seen anyone all day.
July 25 — Day 13: 9.75 hrs, 11.3 miles, +2800/-2600
Off Trail At Last!
Up and on the trail by 7 AM. I decided to climb higher in the hope of rediscovering the high trail on the bench above Summit Meadow. Given that I could see Bond Pass a mile or so in the distance, I was not too concerned. I found and lost the trail again a few times and finally just slalomed downhill through open forest until I found the lower trail that led to the PCT and Dorothy Lake. There I ate a snack and drank some water, all jittery in anticipation of striking off cross country over what I was calling Helen-Tower Pass. My first hour or so was pretty comical. The topography around Stella Lake and Lake Ruth and all their satellite pools turned to be mildly complicated with no good vantage points to get an overview, so I was bouncing around in there like a pinball. I finally reined in my enthusiasm long enough to actually break out the compass and take a reading, which led me to Lake Helen without too much additional flailing.
I had read a few trail reports about the Helen-Tower Pass on the forum, but I was still unsure what to expect. When I got a clear view it seemed moderately doable, and after I studied it for a couple minutes I decided to go straight up the middle part way and then left (northeast) to “follow the green” up to the top. As I was to discover in the coming days, this is a very tame Class 2 pass in comparison to others, but at the time I was pretty damn proud of myself and enjoyed the views from the top. Those to the east were just spectacular — front row seats for Tower Peak and Tower Lake with Hawksbeak Peak in the middle distance. In my opinion, the hunk of rock that towers over Tower Lake is much more impressive than the actual Tower Peak further to the south. On the way down to Tower Lake I made the mistake of aiming for the outlet end of the lake, figuring it to be the most direct and avoiding the boulder field at the other end of the lake. I ended up having to down climb big boulders and short cliffs among the brush and trees, which was a whole lot more work and much slower than if I had just walked over the boulders. This was to be the first of many teachable moments on this part of the trip.
I had finally made it down to Tower Lake and was standing on a flat rock about two feet above a grassy area basking in an undeserved sense of accomplishment, when all of a sudden I found myself coming out of a somersault on the grass. A section of the hiking pole I was leaning on had collapsed, but there appeared to be no damage so I went down to the lake for water and to take some photos. Turns out I had rolled onto my point-and-shoot camera and it would not focus for wide angle shots, only telephoto. Rather than weep uncontrollably at the vistas that would go unrecorded for the remaining two weeks of my trip, I let experience be my guide. You see, I have a Relationship with this camera, so I know its fickle ways and how to coax good behavior out of it. Last year I had this camera with me on the JMT, and I was at Garnet Lake taking some photos when I turned it off and put it in my front pants pocket. I don’t normally keep it there, but I was just going to walk a few yards to another vantage point and snap more photos. As I was walking, the camera managed to turn itself on *and* decide that a telephoto shot was called for. Okay, so now it’s “Hello, Hiker! Is that a telephoto lens in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” The geometry of the situation was such that all the slack in my slacks, if you will, was taken up by the extended lens which was not responding to the power off button, so I could not extract it from my pocket without, well, you know, taking my pants partway off. Next to the trail. Where impressionable youngsters hike. Oi. The ultimate lesson I took away from this was that a hard reset induced by taking the battery out of the camera for a few minutes caused it to return to its default state of good behavior, so I did that at Tower Lake and all was well.
After some lunch I started my first attempt at contouring cross country, based on accounts I have read here about making one’s way up the valley below Hawksbeak Peak. I descended a few hundred feet from Tower Lake and started to make my way at 9200’ around Peak 9422. This forced my second confrontation with Old Man Willow on some very steep terrain which made contouring something of a pipe dream and he got the better of me this time. As a result, I ended up simply climbing over the ridge to the southeast of Peak 9422 and stopping for a rest at the tarn up there. From there I followed a southeasterly course and let myself lose a little elevation as I gradually joined the valley beneath Hawksbeak Peak. My goal for the day was Thompson Canyon, which appeared from the maps to have only seasonal water sources in its upper reaches, so I stopped about 50’ below the saddle to water up before crossing over into the canyon. Turns out there was plenty of water. I made camp on a sandy pad next to a boulder right at the top of Thompson Canyon, which was quite scenic in the late afternoon light. At this point, please allow me to make my single politically oriented observation of this trip report: a long-time resident of the state of Wisconsin of a certain political orientation will experience a great deal of cognitive dissonance at the boundary between two geographic features named the West Walker River drainage and Thompson Canyon. I’ll just say I took some NSFW photos and leave it at that.
Dennis
balzaccom -- well that makes perfect sense: a mattock, of course -- thanks for clarifying
old and slow -- glad to know I have a fellow sufferer -- I have only ever experienced one windier night camping than the one at Aloha and I had a canoe that I could set up as a windbreak -- a canoe this time would have been nice but portaging it all that way would have been rough -- thanks
Troutdog 59 -- thanks for sharing your story and memories
July 24 — Day 12: 6.0 hrs, 10.5 miles, +1975/-1575
A First Encounter With Old Man Willow
The plan for this day had always been to take it relatively easy, so I tried to sleep in but a jay in the tree above my tent took to squawking at 5:30 AM and I finally gave in to its demands and rousted myself out of bed at the luxurious hour of 7 AM. The goal for the next three days was to make my way south and east by trail and cross country travel to Spiller Creek Canyon where I would join the Sierra High Route. I wanted to stay as high as possible for reasons obvious to everyone on this forum and also to get some more straightforward off trail experience to supplement the meager two days I had logged in the Winds last summer. So after stretching my morning routine to an unseemly two hours, I started back up Kennedy Canyon and picked up the trail (former road) that goes right up over Peak 10825 on its way to High Emigrant Lake and Emigrant Pass. While studying the maps last winter I thought this had to be the craziest idea ever, but of course if you really do need a road between Kennedy Canyon and the Emigrant Lakes this is where you have to put it. In any case, the grade was mercifully shallow and after eating enough high octane food for second breakfast I started feeling pretty good.
The north side of Peak 10825 was barren and rocky, but at the top and all the way down to High Emigrant Lake, Emigrant Pass and Grizzly Meadow the wildflowers were putting on another show. A low key affair due to the relative lack of water, but I found several varieties I had not noticed before. And the views down to the Emigrant Lakes were simply beautiful — lakes near and far with meadows in between and white granite slopes with just the right dusting of conifers. I ate lunch at High Emigrant Lake at the dammed outlet stream, and made my way over Emigrant Pass which was sort of a non-event given how broad it is. My original plan was to spend the night in Grizzly Meadow, but I found it a little uninspiring compared to what I had been seeing, so I decided to press on south and east around Grizzly Peak on the high trail that stays well above Summit Meadow. The trail is not well defined and fades out in places, particularly where it crosses the seasonal creek beds where the willows get thick. The first couple times this happened I just tried bulling my way through, doing the bushwhacking thing that unnecessarily saps energy. But even at my age I can learn new tricks, and started spending the time to scout for narrower expanses and going “with the grain” when possible. As a result, there were a few times where I thought Old Man Willow was leading me down the Withywindle, but we reached a truce of sorts at East Fork Cherry Creek where a rock outcrop with views of Summit Meadow and Snow Lake virtually begged to be camped on. So I did. The day was hot and the creek was warm, so I did another round of laundry and bathing. Exploring and photography followed. As the sun set I was worried that I was seeing smoke from fires on the horizon, but I didn’t smell anything. It took me a while to realize that if it was hot up here, it must be blazing down below and that it was smog after all. I had not seen anyone all day.
July 25 — Day 13: 9.75 hrs, 11.3 miles, +2800/-2600
Off Trail At Last!
Up and on the trail by 7 AM. I decided to climb higher in the hope of rediscovering the high trail on the bench above Summit Meadow. Given that I could see Bond Pass a mile or so in the distance, I was not too concerned. I found and lost the trail again a few times and finally just slalomed downhill through open forest until I found the lower trail that led to the PCT and Dorothy Lake. There I ate a snack and drank some water, all jittery in anticipation of striking off cross country over what I was calling Helen-Tower Pass. My first hour or so was pretty comical. The topography around Stella Lake and Lake Ruth and all their satellite pools turned to be mildly complicated with no good vantage points to get an overview, so I was bouncing around in there like a pinball. I finally reined in my enthusiasm long enough to actually break out the compass and take a reading, which led me to Lake Helen without too much additional flailing.
I had read a few trail reports about the Helen-Tower Pass on the forum, but I was still unsure what to expect. When I got a clear view it seemed moderately doable, and after I studied it for a couple minutes I decided to go straight up the middle part way and then left (northeast) to “follow the green” up to the top. As I was to discover in the coming days, this is a very tame Class 2 pass in comparison to others, but at the time I was pretty damn proud of myself and enjoyed the views from the top. Those to the east were just spectacular — front row seats for Tower Peak and Tower Lake with Hawksbeak Peak in the middle distance. In my opinion, the hunk of rock that towers over Tower Lake is much more impressive than the actual Tower Peak further to the south. On the way down to Tower Lake I made the mistake of aiming for the outlet end of the lake, figuring it to be the most direct and avoiding the boulder field at the other end of the lake. I ended up having to down climb big boulders and short cliffs among the brush and trees, which was a whole lot more work and much slower than if I had just walked over the boulders. This was to be the first of many teachable moments on this part of the trip.
I had finally made it down to Tower Lake and was standing on a flat rock about two feet above a grassy area basking in an undeserved sense of accomplishment, when all of a sudden I found myself coming out of a somersault on the grass. A section of the hiking pole I was leaning on had collapsed, but there appeared to be no damage so I went down to the lake for water and to take some photos. Turns out I had rolled onto my point-and-shoot camera and it would not focus for wide angle shots, only telephoto. Rather than weep uncontrollably at the vistas that would go unrecorded for the remaining two weeks of my trip, I let experience be my guide. You see, I have a Relationship with this camera, so I know its fickle ways and how to coax good behavior out of it. Last year I had this camera with me on the JMT, and I was at Garnet Lake taking some photos when I turned it off and put it in my front pants pocket. I don’t normally keep it there, but I was just going to walk a few yards to another vantage point and snap more photos. As I was walking, the camera managed to turn itself on *and* decide that a telephoto shot was called for. Okay, so now it’s “Hello, Hiker! Is that a telephoto lens in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” The geometry of the situation was such that all the slack in my slacks, if you will, was taken up by the extended lens which was not responding to the power off button, so I could not extract it from my pocket without, well, you know, taking my pants partway off. Next to the trail. Where impressionable youngsters hike. Oi. The ultimate lesson I took away from this was that a hard reset induced by taking the battery out of the camera for a few minutes caused it to return to its default state of good behavior, so I did that at Tower Lake and all was well.
After some lunch I started my first attempt at contouring cross country, based on accounts I have read here about making one’s way up the valley below Hawksbeak Peak. I descended a few hundred feet from Tower Lake and started to make my way at 9200’ around Peak 9422. This forced my second confrontation with Old Man Willow on some very steep terrain which made contouring something of a pipe dream and he got the better of me this time. As a result, I ended up simply climbing over the ridge to the southeast of Peak 9422 and stopping for a rest at the tarn up there. From there I followed a southeasterly course and let myself lose a little elevation as I gradually joined the valley beneath Hawksbeak Peak. My goal for the day was Thompson Canyon, which appeared from the maps to have only seasonal water sources in its upper reaches, so I stopped about 50’ below the saddle to water up before crossing over into the canyon. Turns out there was plenty of water. I made camp on a sandy pad next to a boulder right at the top of Thompson Canyon, which was quite scenic in the late afternoon light. At this point, please allow me to make my single politically oriented observation of this trip report: a long-time resident of the state of Wisconsin of a certain political orientation will experience a great deal of cognitive dissonance at the boundary between two geographic features named the West Walker River drainage and Thompson Canyon. I’ll just say I took some NSFW photos and leave it at that.
Dennis