High Sierra Topix

Nice trip report. Anticipating the rest of it. I had a similar experience in 2016 to yours with the mind numbed idiots playing their music. I was hiking up Forester Pass, having decided I wasn't ready for Shepherds Pass (I believe that's the name) above Lake South America (as it turns out, I really enjoyed the hike from the Lake over to the JMT anyway). I had enjoyed the JMT so much the prior year, but this short segment of it had me pushing to get back off it and into some more solitary hiking. A couple decided they needed to turn on their music just as the trail started switchbacking up to Forester Pass. It was all I could do to make myself just hike away from them and not go back and ask them why they thought everyone wanted to hear that noise while they were out hiking miles from anywhere. Most hikers are nice and respectful of others, but those few jerks really do stand out at times.

Lumbergh21 — Yeah, it was kind of a zoo around those trails leading to Clouds Rest and Half Dome. When we met each other, the ranger asked how I was doing. Taking note of the shovel he had slung over his shoulder, I said something about enjoying the views and being glad I wasn't schlepping a shovel uphill in the heat and at this altitude. It wasn't until a couple days later that I realized why he had a shovel. In my innocence at the time I assumed he was doing trail maintenance, but I bet it served another purpose having to do with overuse at the nearby campsites and careless potty practices. Anyway, glad you were able to find some solitude.

August 1 — Day 20: 9.25 hrs, 18.5 miles, +4800/-1300
Making Up for Filling in Some JMT Gaps
Moraine Dome to meadow along Foerster Creek @ 9800'
Back on the trail at 7:15 AM. I spent most of today hiking along the Merced River and the Triple Peak Fork to regain precious elevation. I left the trail where Foerster Creek joins Triple Peak Fork after cascading down a fairly steep slope. It was straightforward to follow the course of the creek to the “high trail” above and cut off a several-mile loop of trail. After a few steps along the high trail I left it and followed Foerster Creek up to a meadowy area where I set up camp. Flowers and deer were on display.
Dennis

August 2 — Day 21: 10.25 hrs, 11.0 miles, +3775, -3126
Rock Hopping & Route Finding
Foerster Creek @ 9800’ to Lake Catherine outlet stream @ 10500’
Significant condensation inside the tent starting almost immediately as the sun went down last night. Managed to keep most stuff dry. Some lessons take repetition before they stick — don’t camp in low areas next to the water, don’t camp in low areas next to the water… On my way at 7:15 AM. Striding. Following the stream and feeling good. Striding. Looking at the low wall I need to climb to get on the plateau beneath Foerster Peak. Striding. Wait, low wall?! Turns out I am heading toward Harriet Lake along its outlet stream. <grumble> Look what three days trail-walking has done to you. </grumble> Course correction. Up on the plateau. Striding. Admiring the Clark Range in the distance. Striding. Enjoying the sun and utter silence. Striding. Hop over a creek. Striding. Wait, stream?! This can’t be Mt Ansel Adams and that can’t be Foerster Peak; rather, this must be Foerster Peak and that must be Peak 11535. It went on like that pretty much all day as I made my way over Blue Lake Pass and on toward North Glacier Pass. My sense of scale/distance was just off enough to make route finding a challenge.

The climb up to Blue Lake pass was mostly boulder hopping with just a couple places where I needed to use my hands for balance. Views from the top were terrific, and I was happy to see the Ritter Range backlit by bright sun. The descent to Bench Canyon was similar in difficulty to the climb up, and I stayed north as recommended by some on this forum. At one point, though, I headed down too early along a nice grassy valley only to have it end in a cliff. I climbed back up the way I had come and continued contouring until I found a steep chute right above the western edge of the companion to Blue Lake. Looked like plenty of traffic goes through there.

Second breakfast. Striding through Bench Canyon. Striding. Nice. Cannot get lost. Striding. Lots of photos. Striding. Resisting the urge to cavort like a child amid the splendor. Then the climbing and contouring around Peak 11537 started and no more striding. Lots of rock hopping. An unfortunate encounter with Old Man Willow ensued. Lots of corrections, but generally following the course sketched out by Roper. I think others have reported, and I would agree, that the challenge here is that you don’t have a readily identifiable feature to guide you. Anyway, after several hours I made it to Twin Island Lakes and forded the outlet stream. Chilly and just above my knees but uneventful. I then watched a group of three leap right across a little further downstream. Hmph.

The much-discussed group of trees next to the roaring outlet stream from Lake Catherine and the Ritter Lakes is easy to spot. Getting there involved quite a bit of scrambling and multiple course corrections. Complex ledge systems, indeed. Took me about an hour and a half to cover that three-quarter mile stretch. I slowly climbed up another 500 feet to the confluence of the outlet streams from Lake Catherine and the Ritter Lakes and found a moderately flat spot to make camp.

Since leaving Bench Canyon I would occasionally walk on some grass or herb that, when crushed, gave off a lovely aroma that smelled like a combination of sage, basil and hops. It was driving me mad by inducing visions of cold bottles of Mammoth Brewing Co. IPA 395. Bombers, of course. I would have stopped to make my own infusion with cold stream water, but I could never identify what it was. Anybody know? I fell asleep secure in the knowledge I was only a day and a half away from as much IPA 395 as I desired at Red’s Meadow Resort where I had a hiker cabin reserved.
Dennis

August 3 — Day 22: 10.0 hrs, 9.9 miles, +3400/-3500
Best. Day. Hiking. Ever.
Lake Catherine outlet stream @ 10500’ to saddle between Cecile & Minaret Lakes
On my way at the customary 7:15 AM. Glorious, clear skies, which is what I had been hoping for since last year when I encountered the Ritter Range shrouded in rain, snow and clouds on my JMT hike. The 600 foot climb to Lake Catherine and North Glacier Pass involved just a few short, steep scrambles on the route I took. Small birds flitted about pecking insects off the rocks as I boulder-hopped my way along the shoreline and up to the pass. From there it was more of the same on the way down. The “massive snowfield” at the top of the pass as described by Roper is of course much-diminished these days, but it provided some welcome relief for a short stretch. I stopped to take some photos of Thousand Island Lake from a rock outcropping about 300’ above the lake and noticed I could contour around at this elevation for some distance rather than dropping down to the lake. In the spirit of the Guidebook Writer, please allow me to write an addendum to Roper’s section entitled “Whitebark Pass to Glacier Lake Pass” pp. 167-169 (also, please ignore the fact that I am traveling the wrong way…):

From the snowfield, follow a brook — the chief inlet stream of Thousand Island lake — as it descends terrain speckled with small groves of whitebark pine and flanked by towering peaks. This increasingly lush and verdant valley eventually debouches onto a broad basin containing Thousand Island Lake and its satellites, which are manifest both internally as its namesake islands and externally as unnamed tarns. The High Route traveler feels something akin to a gravitational tug, urging one to take up orbit in frolicsome peregrinations along the isthmus, and, for the truly adventurous hiker, out to the islands themselves. Nevertheless, several hundred feet above the lake at an elevation of 10,150’, the route turns right (south) to follow a meadow covered bench at the very feet of looming Banner Peak. In mid-season veritable carpets of paintbrush and mountain heather splash bright color onto the rocky palette and bring the contrast between the organic and inorganic realms into sharp relief. Amid such resplendence, it is well nigh imperative to caper about like a popcorning guinea pig. After an all too brief span of perhaps one half mile, the blissful High Route traveler is forced down to the level of the lake by steep ramps. The climb on talus to the low saddle separating Thousand Island Lake from Garnet Lake that immediately follows is made joyful by recollection of what has just recently transpired.

All right, got that out of my system. The only other variation I added to this section was an inadvertent one — rather than descend to Ediza Lake I contoured around the basin below Ritter Pass and above the lake with the result of emerging on top of a 275’ cliff above Iceberg Lake, which made me laugh out loud. Clever boy. Otherwise, most of the hiking follows use trails and other easy terrain. By late afternoon I was atop the saddle between Cecile Lake and Minaret Lake contemplating the best route down that 300’ wall. Earlier in the day I had consulted with a pair of High Route hikers who told me they had spent the previous night at Minaret Lake and that it was pretty crowded. Sure enough, I can hear people howling like wolves down there. Fortunately, there was the barest trickle of water coming down from some residual snowfield on Volcanic Ridge, so I decided to stay high. I channeled my inner Wandering Daisy and spent a good half hour scouting for just the right spot up there — unusual behavior on my part. The area was like a vertical/linear Japanese garden with flowers and grasses in little boggy areas with gravel and rock adjacent. I didn’t go to the trouble to rake patterns into the gravel — it was sublime just the way it was. All my poking around paid dividends later that night, because I went to take photos of the Minarets at sunset and forgot my light. I had to make my way back to the tent in the dark and would have been lost without the mental map I made. Boone cussed me out something fierce for scaring him.
Dennis

August 4 — Day 23: 7.5 hrs, 12.5 miles, +2050/-4800
What da heck? No IPA 395?!
Saddle between Cecile & Minaret Lakes to Reds Meadow Resort
On my way at 7:00 AM. Picked my way down the saddle due north of the small lake NW of Minaret Lake — Class 2 all the way, no problem. Lots of people camped down there. Helped a couple of hikers with a dog (perhaps responsible for the howling yesterday afternoon?) in possession of a woefully inadequate map (I think the city of Merced was on the thing) plot a route up the saddle where they could pick up use trails for the rest of their excursion to Ediza Lake. I made a detour over to Deadhorse Lake by contouring around beneath Riegelhuth Minaret, and then made my way up to Nancy Pass. Nothing extraordinary along the way — just some steep terrain and lots of equivalent choices on getting from one point to another. There is a use trail that I picked up in the trees below the pass that leads to the top. The chute leading down the south side of Nancy Pass is pretty steep with some loose footing in places — I would say definitely Class 2 with some spots where I used hands for balance with the obvious caveat that I was enjoying my twenty-third straight day of ridiculously glorious weather in ideal hiking conditions. The bottom of the chute is a bushwhacking delight, compliments of Old Man Willow. I concur with Wandering Daisy’s assessment of this as “a most unpleasant steep slope of brush and scree.” http://highsierratopix.com/community/vi ... 61&p=34239 I sought relief by hugging the rock wall and heading left/east into a wooded area with a reasonably sparse understory (right side of photo below). The near free-fall to Devil’s Postpile and Reds Meadow was filled with people toiling their way to Superior Lake and the Beck Lakes. My resupply package was where I expected it to be again, right there at Reds Meadow Resort. To my consternation, however, they were out of Mammoth Brewing Co. IPA 395 or had stopped carrying it — in the photo below, witness the curious excision of all Mammoth Brewing Co. selections at the bottom of the left column yet 395 remains at the top. All that daydreaming for naught… Shower, laundry, a delicious burger and salad with Stone Arrogant Bastard as a worthy replacement brew, 26th wedding anniversary phone call home to Stacey, and then night-night.
Dennis

... not going to let myself get lapped by the calendar: here's the last of it

August 5 — Day 24: 9.25 hrs, 13.5 miles, +4850/-2050
Go Pound Sand
Reds Meadow Resort to Pika Lake
Breakfast at the Mulehouse Cafe. Purchased a supplementary box of mac and cheese and a “vacuum packed” can of roasted peanuts with a convex sealed lid indicating the contents were actually at a pressure higher than ambient. Made a few more phone calls, drank as much water as I could, filled up both liter bottles in preparation for a pretty dry day, and got on the trail by 8:30 AM. Chatted with a few groups of day hikers making their way over Mammoth Pass on my way up (once I found the correct trail — missed a turn and happily trotted along for about twenty minutes before the fact I was headed downhill again penetrated my consciousness). At what seemed an opportune spot I left the trail and started the sandy slog to the top of Mammoth Crest. The last stretch was of the two-steps-forward-and-one-step-backward variety, and I eventually joined a trail to the top. The views from the top were very nice — Mammoth Mtn, the Ritter Range, the crest itself. To the north there was a great deal of smoke from the Marina Fire at Mono Lake. Followed a well-defined trail all the way to the Deer Lakes and then back up to the ridge line of Mammoth Crest above Duck Lake. Lots of wildflowers on display from Deer Lakes to Pika Lake. At the end of the day I met a Sierra Club group at Pika Lake, and after talking to them for a while I scampered further along the shore to a nice site in a group of trees.
Dennis

August 6 — Day 25: 9.0 hrs, 12.5 miles, +3575/-3475
Discretion, Valor & All That
Pika Lake to Fish Creek Drainage
It was pretty cold overnight, which made for a slower start in the morning. Just before leaving on this trip, I discovered RoguePhotonic’s cross country pass descriptions for Pika Pass http://highsierratopix.com/community/vi ... 31&t=13812 and Franklin Col http://highsierratopix.com/community/vi ... 31&t=13831, so for this day I planned to deviate from Roper’s High Route and avoid the JMT altogether by taking advantage of these passes and staying closer to the crest. After packing up and reviewing Rogue’s description, I started up Pika Pass. My experience fits his description quite closely. Some easy going through the trees and then four or five levels of talus to the top. Some stretches involved quite large blocks. The residual snowfields were frozen solid and I had no microspikes, so I had to squeeze myself into the melted channels between the blocks and snow. It took me just under an hour and a half to climb to the top from the shore of Pika Lake. I thought the last section at the top was pretty steep, but it was as nothing compared to the other side. Holy spank. I did some serious hemming and hawing before deciding to go to the right (west) of a rather conspicuous squarish block right at the top of the pass. As Rogue points out, the top portions of the south side of the pass are very loose, very steep, and border on class three. Much of the stuff is at the angle of repose, and I managed to start a minor rock slide, riding the edge of it for five scary seconds or so. After that, it was just a long rocky slog to the bottom to the verdant meadows at the Ram Lakes. I spotted no rams, but there were many people on day hikes from base camps lower down.

I hiked to the small pool just below Franklin Lake for my first look at Franklin Col. There looked to be less snow on it than the year Rogue crossed over, but after my Pika Pass Experience (as it has come to be known) I was still a little jittery. I spent a good fifteen minutes doing some more hemming and hawing from a distance, taking zoomed in photos and reviewing them — I knew I would goad myself into making the attempt if I let myself get closer. In the end, I decided to let discretion rule the day, which was probably the hardest decision I made all trip. Trying not to feel too disappointed, I crossed over the ridge above Glenette Lake and descended to Lake Virginia, picking up the JMT/PCT for yet more elevation loss down into Tully Hole. A quick turn upstream at Fish Creek enabled me to avoid the crowds frolicking in the water, and I found the outlet stream from Izaak Walton Lake after a short mosquito-infested lunch in the woods. I spent far too much energy and time clambering up the rocks next to the rushing stream — as I finally discovered, it would have been much easier to stay upslope (west) of the stream as Roper advises. Other than inadvertently heading off to Mace Lake (“I am headed south, why is the sun shining in my eyes so late in the day? Oh, wait…"), the rest of the hike up to Cotton Lake was straightforward. There were a lot of stagnant pools in the area, so I hiked on until I found some running water closer to Tully Lake and then set up camp.
Dennis

August 7 — Day 26: 8.5 hrs, 11.4 miles, +3650/-3375
Three Creeks
Fish Creek to Lower Mills Creek Lake
Another slow start and finally headed up to Shout of Relief Pass and the Silver Divide after 8 AM. Straightforward hiking to the top with nice views. Roper’s claim that you can contour over to Bighorn Pass seems to apply only to bighorns themselves. Easy to follow use trails led down, up, down and back up again as I made my way past Rosy Finch Lake. You get the full geological impact of Second Recess from Bighorn Pass and on the descent to Laurel Lake. I followed a trail beside Laurel Creek for quite a while, eventually losing it as the terrain steepened on the way down to Mono Creek. After slaloming downhill for a while, I picked it up again just as the understory (manzanita?) started getting thick. I crossed Mono Creek on some rocks upstream of the trail crossing, promptly stumbled into the water on the other side, and got nicely entangled with the brush along the creek. Typical shortcut experience in my book. On the way up Second Recess I met a couple of gentlemen doing the south half of the High Route who had made the 5500’ climb out of Kings Canyon on one of those really hot days a while back. Yowza. I followed the established trail along Mills Creek and then a use trail to start the climb out of Second Recess up the “brushy, scree-covered hillside” described by Roper. Of course, I lost it at some point and ended up in a battle royale with Old Man Willow. He won, hands down. I finally realized my penchant for going higher was generating my frustration and fought my way back down to Mills Creek where I found the trail again. A short while later I made camp on a rock shelf along the north shore of Lower Mills Creek Lake.
Dennis

August 8 — Day 27: 10.25 hrs, 14.1 miles, +4000/-3900
Three Passes
Lower Mills Creek Lake to Merriam Lake
Cold again last night, but up and on my way by 7:15 AM. My original plan had been to camp at Upper Mills Creek Lake, which at 11200’ turned out to be quite austere so I was glad to have taken advantage of the relative greenness 350’ below at Lower. The approach to Gabbot Pass came in modest stages with lots of ice and snow in the shadowed channels above Upper Mills Creek Lake. I took just under two hours to go from my camp to the top. The far side of the pass was very tame — easy striding down to Lake Italy where I picked up the trail along the north shore. I don’t know why Roper pans the area around Lake Italy — sure, at 11200’ it is bound to be a little stark but there are peaks aplenty to keep you occupied as you make your way around. It probably also helps to be visually stimulated by wildflower displays while enjoying your 27th straight day of faultless weather.

A short way down the Hilgard Branch of Bear Creek I made the short climb up to Teddy Bear Lake, whereupon Boone started making quite a racket. Something about being tired of seeing the trip backward and insisting on taking a break right now. So we stopped for lunch and a photo-op, which turned out to be a good thing because White Bear Pass took a much bigger effort than I anticipated. Part of that was because for the first time in miles upon miles of boulder- and talus-hopping I had a rock roll under foot and ended up with my right foot trapped painfully between it and a larger neighbor. It took me a minute to figure out how to lever the thing off so I could extract my foot. Fortunately, the sole of my boot had been caught square across relative to the two pinch points and its stiffness prevented further compression. After recovering, I climbed high to stay above the lower cliffs as advised by Roper. There were still some very steep (to me) slopes of bare rock to scamper across with distressingly small cracks for purchase and traction. Along the way, I met a group of three twenty-somethings galavanting down from the pass with boundless energy in such a way as to cause me to envy their knees. We had a nice chat and they buoyed me up with a “finish strong” as we parted ways.

I managed to get turned around in Bear Basin (I know, right? hard to believe it happened to me) and mistook Big Bear Lake for Ursa Lake. It felt just like two weeks ago on my first off trail day wandering around between Stella Lake and Lake Ruth. There are much worse places for an extended tour, so I wasn’t too upset at myself. Feather Pass, like many of the others, came in stages with use trails appearing and disappearing. On the way up, I met one of the people who mistook me for a ranger and asked my advice regarding protocols for getting a snakebite and setting off your personal locator beacon for rescue. Stay put or try to move toward an exit point? I told him that as a non-expert I would advise staying put and breaking out a tourniquet. I dunno… Anyway, near the top I stayed right (south) as advised and scrambled up. The area around LaSalle Lake did not appeal to me for camping purposes, so I pressed on to Merriam Lake and found a spot on the east shore just north of the outlet stream. A family with two dogs was camped at the base of the falls a little distance away. I was pretty tired and was out before the lights went off outside.
Dennis

August 9 — Day 28: 7.5 hrs, 10.4 miles, +2525/-2025
One Last Pass
Merriam Lake to Muriel Lake
Very cold last night. On my way by 7:45 AM. It was easy downhill hiking from Merriam Lake to the bottom of French Canyon, eventually connecting with the trail beside the outlet stream which led to the Pine Creek Pass Trail in short order. More easy trail hiking northeast past the Royce Lakes Falls. I was keeping my eye out for a small stream coming down from the bench to the south, which was where I planned to leave the trail. Right about where I crossed over I met Sean, Iris, Matt and Chris for the first time bookin’ it down canyon on Day 5 of their Sierra Challenge 2016 extravaganza. They were headed back up from whence I had just come on their way to Mt Morrow. No wonder it seemed they were on a mission — just the small matter of the better part of a 22 mile peak bagging day hike ahead of them. So at this point it was just nods and “mornin’”s. Tomorrow morning we would meet again near the top of Piute Pass for a longer conversation, and it would seem to me as if I saw them days ago.

Anyway, I hopped across the stream, consumed second breakfast, and started up the forested slope. I found the small stream trickling down from above and followed it for a while through moderate undergrowth until I happened up a steep bare slope among the stands of trees. I switchbacked my way right up to the top and was greeted with meadows dotted with lupine and Elba Lake in the near distance. From there it was another steep but much shorter climb to Puppet Lake and its satellites. If I were to grump about a group of lakes that I found unappealing, it would be these rather than Lake Italy. Probably this was just due to my mounting sadness with the realization that tomorrow spelled the end of my journey. Nevertheless, the immediate objective was Puppet Pass, which I had researched here fairly extensively. In my mind, I had organized it into four steps: 1) identify The Wall, 2) achieve The Wall, 3) follow The Wall, and 4) pray after leaving The Wall. From the north/west side of the pass, The Wall is an easily identifiable feature in the amphitheater of short cliffs, jumbled boulders, and assorted talus. In the photos below, it can be seen on the left (north/east). Getting to the base of The Wall is straightforward work through boulders and talus. Once there it is easy to identify various paths others have taken alongside the cliff. It was steep enough that I eventually put my poles away and used my hands for balance, but I never encountered anything beyond class two terrain. At the top of The Wall I opted to go right (south/west) to finish, and it was evident that numbers of people had also come down/gone up to the left, too. Steeper yet, but prayers were not needed after all.

At the top I met a group from Utah who had summited Mt Humphreys yesterday — they were singularly undaunted at the prospect of descending Puppet Pass after their lunch for obvious reasons. I told them how much I enjoyed visiting their red rock national parks, and I extolled the virtues of driving on Utah Hwy 12. After consuming a snack for energy, I wandered off into Humphreys Basin in the general direction of Muriel Lake. I did not feel the need to pick out a particular line to follow, so I ended up over by Mesa and Tomahawk Lakes rather than the Desolation Lakes. The terrain gets a bit more rumpled south of Tomahawk, so I headed southeast through lupine-decorated meadows until I crossed Piute Pass Trail. I met one half of a duo hiking the High Route from south to north who had come over what they thought was Snowtongue Pass but turned out to be something even more hair raising. His description was enough to banish all thought of going that way if I am able to return and pick up where I left off. I eventually crossed Piute Creek and made my way to the outlet stream of Muriel Lake. I was depressed and grumpy about ending the trip, so I disassembled two particularly obnoxious cairns somebody had erected on top of prominent boulders right near the creek and shoreline. I did this despite the fact that campers on the north shore were watching me, which goes against my midwestern upbringing — I figured I had been mistaken for a ranger often enough that they might think this was an Official Action. I found a nice grassy spot on the west side of the lake to pitch my tent and get myself cleaned up for the exit ceremonies tomorrow.
Dennis