High Sierra Topix

Day 8 - Ebbetts Pass to “Disappointment Lake”
I heard very little road noise during the night – not surprising, I guess. Highway 4 Isn’t exactly the interstate. What I did hear was plenty of wind noise. And before I went to sleep, I had a squirrel either fall on the end of my tent, or slam into it during one of those mad dashes that squirrels engage in. Amnyway, something hit my tent fairly hard and the rather animate chirruping of a squirrel closely followed it. Rather startling in the moment, when one is relaxing and reading at dusk.
Despite the wind noise in the trees during the night, it seemed to be perhaps a bit less breezy in the early morning. Today I felt like I was firmly in what I will call the “brown and green” Sierra – as opposed to the “gray and green” of the granite dominant areas. Yesterday had been mostly this way as well. I was liking it. I think it is the interplay of the colors, as well as the wild shapes of the eroded rocks, that catches my fancy. Also liking this environment, or so it seemed, were numerous beautiful Sierra Junipers. This one, I happened to pass by at the right time for good lighting: A group of four people passed me going the other way just at that moment, and all of us took photos of the same tree.
I passed by Noble Lake, and its surrounding wildflowers, and ascended to the saddle above it which is unnamed – should be Noble Pass, right? But named or not, there are nice views both ways, particularly to the south and southwest. You can see Highland Lakes (to which one can drive if the road is in decent shape or you have good ground clearance, and the camping there is good), Folger Peak, Hiram Peak, and much else. It’s nice country. I met a dayhiker up there, coming from Highland Lake, who was very enthusiastic about the whole area, and had dayhiked all over. Cresting the saddle, the wind was back. Not howling, but healthy. The trail drops Down Past Asa Lake, and I stopped there for my first lunch.
Soon after that, I arrived at Wolf Creek Pass, which doesn’t strike me as much of a pass, given that there are meadows all around. But I guess it is technically right on the crest. Here, I had a choice to make. I had considered dropping down Disaster Creek into the Clark Fork, as a sort of change of pace from the ridge walking up near the crest – but from there I would be faced with a big climb up to St. Mary’s Pass on the shoulder of Sonora Peak, some of which would be off trail in the forest – could be kinda shwacky. Given that I was enjoying the views up high, and the chance of any thunderstorms seemed slight, and also, I would get down into a canyon a little bit if I stuck with the PCT, since it drops (but not as far down) into the East Fork of the Carson before climbing up to get to Sonora Pass, I decided to stick with the PCT. I would have to pay attention to water sources, as the trail stays fairly close to the crest, so whether the creeks would have water was an unknown. The creeks I ad been passing in similar situations were sometimes dry and sometimes running, no way to predict how these would be. Wilderness #3


My decision turned out well. I’d cross a little ridge, look into a new scenic basin, contour around it, cross another ridge, and repeat. That was my afternoon. Mule ears, grass, flowers and sage covered the open hillsides, red firs and Lodgepoles filled the forested bits. Blue skies above. And interesting geology underfoot, including these chalky white rocks – I dubbed this little saddle “White Rock Pass”. From there I had a panorama to the south, centered in which were Stanislaus Peak and Sonora Peak. Sonora Peak represented something of a milestone, since I would resupply at Kennedy Meadows, catching a ride on their shuttle from Sonora Pass. Which meant that Sonora peak symbolized my halfway point – though it wasn’t precisely halfway – and having it in view made me feel like I was getting somewhere. From White Rock Pass, I contoured my final basin of the day below Disaster Peak, crossing a couple of dry streambeds, and planning to camp at Golden Lake. Except that there is no Golden Lake, despite what the map shows. What there is, is a meadow, with what would be, in a wetter season, a 10 foot diameter frog pond. Today it was dry cracked mud. With empty water bottles, I had to keep going. A mile further along the map showed an unnamed but larger lake. It had already been a long day for me, about 14 miles, so I was plodding as I covered that next mile. And less than confident that there would indeed be water in this lake. As I approached, it looked at first like all meadow and no lake, but as I waded out in the grass, a pond finally appeared. This one about 20 feet in diameter. Pretty green. But it was water, and I found a way to get to the edge without getting in to anything too swampy. Brushing aside the tadpoles, the water skeeters, and a variety of other aquatic life, I filled my bag. Once in the bag, it didn’t look quite as bad – but I was glad that my filter cleans easily, as it was definitely not crystal clear. I found a flattish spot, got set up, ate my dinner, and was mighty glad to finally lay down. A 15 mile day with 2900 feet of up and 2400 feet of down used to seem like no big deal but I ain’t that young anymore.

Day 9 – “Disappointment Lake” to East Fork Carson River
Well, the lake was a disappointment but I slept okay and awoke ready for another day. When I stopped for breakfast, I enjoyed the morning light on the ridge to my north on the far side of Golden Canyon. My morning had fewer views, and more trees, than the last couple days and after rolling up and own near the ridge, I began the steep, but not too long, descent into the canyon of the East Fork of the Carson River. Kinda fun for a change to be down in, and looking up, rather than on top and looking down. Also nice to have a sizable and lovely stream to walk beside. I particularly enjoyed a spot where the river takes a 90 degree turn and drops into t a slot in the rocks. At the current level of the water, it all disappears in a hole, comes out into the side of the slot and twists its way down. In the spring flood this must be spectacular, if you could get back here to see it. down the hole

The slot

Looking up from the bottom - Stanislaus peak on the right

After the long day previous, I made this one short, and spent the afternoon lounging near the river and doing some laundry. Even down here in the canyon I had a breeze, which was just the thing to dry out my slightly cleaner clothes after the bear can laundry operation.

Day 10 – East Fork Carson to Sonora Pass
Under the now standard clear blue sky, and in the standard breeze, I climbed out of the chilly canyon bottom and up into the sun to have breakfast just below the saddle at the head of the valley. Looking back down the canyon of the East Fork Carson


This ought to be Wolf Creek Pass, since Wolf creek flows down from its south side, and Wolf Creek lake sits just below it on that side. But no, it has no name, while the actual , but totally uninteresting Wolf Creek Pass that I went through two days ago glories in the name, despite not being drained by a Wolf Creek (although there is a Wolf Creek in the next drainage over). Go figure. Flowers near the saddle


Cresting the unnamed saddle, I began the swing around the slopes of Sonora Peak to get to Sonora Pass. Soon I crested a spur of the peak and got a view of Leavitt Peak and environs, with Sonora Pass hiding between me and it. Leavitt & Co.


I had to hustle along so that I would catch the shuttle at Sonora Pass, which is supposed to leave thereat 10:30. The trail winds around in what is a maddening manner if you are pressed for time, but in the end I arrived with time to spare, and the shuttle arrive on time. A few folks hopped out and headed off north and south, and I was the only passenger for the ride down. I got some nice historical tidbits from the driver, about the old wagon road, bits of which are still visible here and there from the road.
At Kennedy Meadows, I collected my box, and finding the a they had a cabin available, decided to spend a night there. I was ahead of my planned schedule so I could get away with that, and a shower and some decent food sounded pretty good. I began with a grilled ham and cheese sandwich, followed by soft serve ice cream, and never looked back.
I have to say it seemed a little odd to be in the middle of a backpacking trip and eating real food and taking a shower and all. Never done that before.

Day 11 – Sonora Pass to Kennedy Canyon
Since the shuttle leaves for the pass at 1:00, I had plenty of time to reorganize and repack. I think it took me three tries to get everything in the bear can – and that was leaving some lunch stuff out. I would have to do another repack that night after dinner on the trail. I had bought a few added items at the store to supplement my resupply package – cheese sticks, jerky, snickers – as I felt like my planned diet was not quite enough. It’s tricky to get the amount of food right for a longer trip than you are used to. What works for 5 or 10 days may not be enough for something longer. I could see in the mirror that I had lost weight, and I could not keep going that way for another 8 days without consequences, plus if I was losing weight at that clip then I had to be under fueled and more calories should mean more energy. I hadn’t been particularly hungry, so I would have to make a conscious effort to consume more.
Dropped off by the shuttle back at the pass, now more heavily laden than yesterday, I trudged off up the trail. From the pass, the PCT immediately starts climbing, and it is a steady 1200 foot grind up to where you cross over to the west side of the ridge.While you climb you have views back north to Sonora Peak.

Of course, this trip being this trip, reaching the ridge meant emerging into the howling wind. Once again, I was holding my hat on. But it was well worth it because the views are spectacular up there. For a while you are on the west side of the ridge, then you switch over to the east to swing around Leavitt Peak, then back to west for the last couple miles before you meet the trail coming up from Leavitt Lake. East to the Sweetwater Range
Wilderness #4
Bits of Leavitt, Koenig, and Latopie Lakes
Kennedy Lake

Also, despite the rocky surroundings, the wildflowers were still in evidence.
Near the junction I met some folks and got one of them to take a photo of me with the peaks of northern Yosemite in the background – where I would be in a couple days.
This was another one of those spots where the nature of a point to point trip comes into clear focus. As my buddy Steve said many years ago after two weeks on the Muir Trail, “It’s getting to be the normal thing to get up in the morning, look off into the distance at some pass or peak, and then walk there that day.”
Though the views were tremendous, there was a sense of relief as I finally got down off the ridge at the head of Kennedy Canyon, and out of the worst of the wind. The extra effort of dealing with that kind of wind all day long does wear on you. I had considered going over Big Sam from here, but I put the kibosh on that idea, as another day up on an exposed ridge in the wind was not appealing. A stroll through the meadows and such down by the West walker sounded more like the thing at this point. I dropped down Kennedy Canyon to the first water and found a spot to camp. Even down here there was a breeze, but nothing like up on the ridge.

Day 12 – Kennedy Canyon to Cora Lake
I woke to a slight smell of smoke in the air, but that was gone by the time I stopped for breakfast, a ways down the canyon. I descended into the broad and convoluted valley of the West Walker River.
Out of the wind, I strolled through Walker Meadows and peeled off of the PCT for a detour to Cinko Lake. I had been there once before and new it was a nice spot, so I planned to stop there for my first breakfast. And nice it was. I met a group of guys there packing up and waiting for a mule train to take them out, and we chatted as I rested and ate. From there it was a short hop to met up with the PCT again, and at Lake Harriet I left the trail and followed its east shore, stopping for my second lunch, before continuing to Cora Lake, where I found a spot away from the lake that was sheltered from the worst of the wind, and made camp. A mellow day, and just what I needed. Harriet


Old FS sign at Cora - must have been a trail here once. But the elevation is off - map says 9356

And you pause for dramatic effect right when you get to my favorite part :P

It was nice to have a change of pace and be off trail. Helen Lake


I ascended past Helen Lake before the sun was on it, and stopped for breakfast just on the other side of the saddle leading to Tower Lake, in a spot that was sheltered from the wind and had the morning sun. Helen and Ruth

There are sort of two saddles here, I took the eastern one, but it looked like the other one would be pretty easy going as well. On the other side, Tower lake was down below in its bowl, and Tower Peak and the Watchtower loomed above. After breakfast I worked my way down to the lake, and caught the trail down its outlet for a short way before peeling off to the right to head over towards the valley between Hawksbeak Peak and Ehrnbeck Peak. It’s pretty jumbly in there, and hard to see landmarks in the forest, but I aimed for a pond on the ridge and was able to hit that pretty well though by a different approach than I had imagined. From there down into the valley, the going was fairly easy. Hawksbeak, Ehrnbeck, and the saddle I would go through, from the jumbly ridge


Once I got down into that valley, things were very nice and I followed a lovely stream up to the ponds just below Hawksbeak, a great spot for second lunch – though breezy, as usual.

After a nice rest, I headed up to the saddle leading over to Thompson Canyon, which was easy going.
Coming over the top was magical – the broad gentle valley at the head of Thompson canyon is an amazing spot. Slabs and sand and grass intermixed, all that wide open space makes you want to camp there and just wander around poking into all the little hidden spots.
I strolled down a bit, laughing and grinning like a fool, got some water from the stream winding down the middle, and found a spot to camp among the trees. It took a while to find a spot reasonably out of the wind but eventually I did.

Day 14 – Thompson Canyon to Lake 8896
I awoke to yet another clear sky above, and of course the ever-present breeze. Upon leaving my campsite, I discovered very nearby a rather impressive pile of bear scat. Whether it was dropped while I was in residence I can’t say, I did examine it closely enough to determine the level of freshness. But regardless, I saw it as a welcome to the national park. Up to this point I had seen no sign of bears anywhere.
My nice sandy stroll soon changed to dodging wet spots in a boggy area – unsuccessfully as it turned out. Getting one’s feet wet before the sun is up isn’t the most fun way to start the day, but it didn’t dampen my spirits too much, as the beauty of the valley kept them pretty high. From the wide open upper basin, I descended through the forest to a huge meadow. Anywhere the stream leveled out it was teeming with 6” trout. I saw a few slightly large but I don’t think I saw any over 8”. In the meadow, where the stream meandered all over the place, there were fish everywhere I looked. I saw a good-sized hare at the edge of the meadow. Near the lower end of the meadow, I angled up through the woods to get to little saddle that leads over to a sort of a valley within the valley that holds a few little lakes. From the saddle I scrambled up to a handy knob just south of it, to get views of the meadow above and the lakes below. When I dropped to the lake, I discovered a campsite, but nobody home. I had seen footprints in the sandy areas up the canyon that looked pretty recent – perhaps it was these folks.
I stopped at the outlet end of the lake for first lunch, then continued down past another little lake and then over a gentle saddle to its south to drop back into the main canyon. Form the saddle I could survey my route up the other side of the canyon to get up to a lake on a shelf northwest of Price Peak. The slope was all forested, but with rocks showing through, looked as steep as it did on the map, but doable. Soon I was down, across the creek, and climbing up through what I would describe as a talus field with a forest growing out of it, and largely class 3. I had to stick my one trekking pole down between the pack and my back so that could use both hands. Fortunately, there was only a few hundred feet of this before the angle eased back. In the forest I could not get a good read on whether I was keeping to my line or not, but as it turned out I ended up pretty close to the lake when I got onto the shelf. After that scramble I was ready for a swim, and the lake did not disappoint. I found a nice granite slab entry and exit point, and soon I was refreshed and something approaching clean. The lake bottom was pretty mucky, but the temperature was ideal. I ate my second lunch there.
From there I had a very pleasant stroll through slabby, semi-forested terrain down to lake 8896, but then I getting along the shoreline to reach the west end turned out to be an up and down, scrambling over rocks and downed logs, tedious chore. By the time I found a spot to camp near the west end I was more than ready to stop.
At dinnertime, I enjoyed some nice evening light on the lake and surroundings. Thompson canyon is quite a place, and with no trail up it (and nothing like a use trail anywhere that I saw), it clearly does not see a lot of visitors. Just one more on the nearly endless list of wonderful spots in the Sierra.

Now you are getting into the good stuff! The little canyon between Hawksbeak and Ehrenbeck Peaks is known locally as "Rainbow Canyon"

Day 15 – Lake 8896 to Benson Lake
No wind. For the first time on this trip, when I awoke there was no wind. Of course, that also meant that for the first time I had a little condensation in the tent and on my quilt. Tradeoffs. When I stopped for breakfast on the top of a little knob right next to the saddle where I would rejoin the PCT, there was just a slight breeze. Back on the trail, I descended into Kerrick Canyon and headed upstream, at first through wide forested flats sprinkled with flowers.
Then for a while the trail leaves the stream and climbs the side of the canyon. I stopped for my first lunch at a narrow bit of the canyon where the trail comes back to meet the creek. Just before I stopped, I met a rather bold pika who let me get within 6 feet. I had a tiny sandy beach on the creek bank for my lunch stop, and I waded as well as eating and resting on a boulder midstream.
After the break, I soon started climbing up out of the canyon to Seavey Pass. Precisely which of the three or four saddles/notches the trail passes through is the Pass, I do not know. What I do know is that it is a lovely stretch of trail, winding among the rocks and passing one scenic pond after another, and finally, after the last pond, beginning to descend in earnest. Soon the massive bulk of the various spurs of Piute Mtn. transition from backdrop for the ponds to dominating your world as they loom above you. Lower down the canyon opens up and you have views of Volunteer Peak and a batch of other scenic hunks of granite. Just before you enter the forest on the valley floor you get a glimpse off to your right of Benson Lake.
I had been hearing about Benson Lake and its famous “riviera” for decades. I had seen many photos. I had looked at it on maps, aerial photos, google earth. So, I thought I had an idea of what it would be like. The trail comes down off the rocky, brushy slope and onto the densely forested, wide, flat valley floor. The shade was welcome, as the afternoon is warm and the trail I just descended was exposed and hot. The trees are tall and close together and it is almost gloomy in here. I reach the junction with the side trail that leads to the lake; no sign indicates that this is the trail, but it must be., so I take it. A wide, sandy, but almost dry inlet stream appears, then winds away to the left. The trail is clearly well traveled; in places it is a trench a foot or more below the surrounding soil. The soil begins to be rather sandy in spots. The trees are further apart here. An open space is not far ahead – the lake must be close. As the trees end, willows take their place, and the soil underfoot gives way to sand. And then off to the right I get a glimpse through the trees and the willows to an expanse of sand that is so much bigger than anything I imagined that I am pretty surprised. I keep walking, and everything seems to keep getting bigger, until I come out from under the last trees (which are growing right out of the beach), and I am standing in the middle of an enormous beach, looking out over a huge lake, flanked on either side by grand and tumbled slopes of granite climbing to sky to my left and right. I was stunned. It is so rare to have the actual experience of a place you have heard about over and over again be far beyond anything you had imagined. This was one of those times. And I had it all to myself, there was no one else in sight! A swim was mandatory, and soon I was plunging into the cold water. There was a strong breeze (I knew that tease from the morning couldn’t last), but it was sunny and warm, and I stood on the beach and dried in the sun and wind. And now the spell was partly broken, as first a human appeared at the far end of the beach to my right, and then a pair of folks appeared from my left. But no matter, the place was still just as amazing even with other people there, and I had gotten my one moment of magical solitude. There are people on that beach, to the left of the center of it.


Once I had dried off, it was time to find a campsite back in the trees before coming back to spend some more time on the beach. I found a spot not too far back but sheltered enough from the wind, and also near enough to the inlet stream that I could collect water there rather than from the lake. After setting up, I went back to the beach to lounge and read and marvel for a while. Later I scrambled across the outlet and onto a vantage point for some photos. And at dinnertime, I took my dinner to the beach and enjoyed the changing light. So, a truly memorable afternoon and evening. And then that night, from the sublime to the ridiculous, as I experienced what I will forever recall as the Benson Lake Rodeo. Some time after I had gone to sleep, I woke to the sound of hooves and cowbells. Horses or mules - or both – traipsing around quite close to my tent. First coming closer, then passing by and getting further away. Apparently, there was a party with livestock camped somewhere at the other end of the beach (I never walked over there), and they had let the stock run loose for the night. I went to sleep again – and woke a while later to the same sounds, except this time the hooves were closer to my tent. Like right next to it. I grabbed my headlamp, and discovered the nose of a horse right outside my screen door. The animal showed a clear interest in my shoes, which were sitting right outside my door. I said something along the lines of “no, you can’t eat my shoes”, which of course had no effect. Further sniffing of the shoes, followed by an investigative lick. Things were getting out of hand, so I unzipped my door and brought the shoes inside. A mild snort expressed disappointment, and the horse moved away, lightly kicking one of my guylines as it did so. Sound of hooves and cowbell receding again. Once again, back to sleep. There was at least one more round of close encounters during the night, maybe more. At any rate, I certainly did not get a good night’s sleep, wondering sleepily if I would be trampled at some point, and also whether any of them would enjoy kicking my bear canister during the night just for fun, or even accidentally. And thinking that least there would be little likelihood of a bear visiting my camp with all the livestock roaming around all night.