R03/R04 TR: Red, White, (and Blue) Loop. July 3-6, 2020
Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2020 3:46 pm
Hi All,
Over the holiday weekend I completed a route that circumnavigates Red & White Mountain. My friend CB joined me. The route starts and ends at McGee Creek, and it links four passes: McGee, Shout of Relief, Bighorn, and Hopkins. Along the way, we also climbed Red Slate Mountain.
Mileage: 31.3 miles with +10,558’ elevation gain.
Special Gear: Ice axe, but never used.
Snow Conditions: Relatively low for this time of year. I crossed only small patches of snow, and was fine in my running shoes.
Details:
On July 3rd, I rendezvoused with my friend CB in Bishop. We drove to Big Pine and setup a car shuttle at the Big Pine Creek trailhead. CB is joining me for three days, then continuing south on his solo journey to the Palisades. He'll reach his car at Big Pine Creek sometime next week.
We drove back to the McGee Creek trailhead, and found the parking lot was full. We parked alongside the road and sorted our gear while we waited twenty minutes for a parking spot to open. We started hiking at 1pm, and enjoyed a non-eventful climb to Big McGee Lake. Along the way, we passed a dozen groups returning from day hikes.
We camped west of Big McGee Lake, in an established site near the tarn (10,586’). Mount Crocker and Mount Stanford glowed golden in the sunset.
On July 4th, I awoke to the sunrise heating my tent and I knew the day would be warm. We started hiking at 8am, and climbed McGee Pass by 9:30. Along the way, we encountered a steep patch of ice under shade. We managed to safely cross on the existing footsteps. However, without the footsteps, we would have needed crampons or to down-climb 150 feet to a safer route.
At McGee Pass, we stashed our non-essential gear and turned towards Red Slate Mountain. We ascended a good trail along the southern ridge. I could feel the altitude slow me down, and my friend said he was developing a headache. We rested at a rock outcropping 600’ below the summit. I fell asleep in the warm sun, and awoke thirty minutes later feeling revived for the final climb. It seems that CB and I are both still adjusting to the altitude.
We reached Red Slate Mountain summit at 11:30. The highest section of the peak looks treacherous from a distance, but I was happily surprised to discover that the trail weaves through the complex cliffs. It’s class 1-2 all the way.
We had the summit to ourselves. In the clear and cloudless sky, I could see south over the Mono Divide and north past the Minarets. 150 miles to the west, I saw the blue silhouette of the coastal range. The long views and easy weather made this was one of my favorite Sierra summit experiences.
Back at McGee Pass, we collected our gear and and descended towards Tully Lake. In the afternoon sun, the west side of the pass was a light show with green glowing meadows against red volcanic shale. We followed a chain of waterfalls down the canyon. We paused to collect water and apply mosquito repellant. We eventually reached Tully Lake. We swam in the (relatively) warm water, cooked meals on our stoves, and prepared for more climbing.
In the dramatic evening light, we strolled up grassy ramps towards Shout of Relief Pass. The route was gentle walking. We reached the pass at 6:30. Tired from our long day, we descended the pass and camped at the unnamed tarn (11,078’). We used an established campsite on its north shore, set between boulders and the shoreline meadow. As sunlight disappeared, I sat on a granite slab and drank whiskey while watching alpenglow illuminate the unnamed peaks that crown the basin.
On July 5th, the granite spires to our east blocked sunrise until 8am. I slept late, and we enjoyed a slow morning. I lounged on a flat rock in the sunshine, ate a granola bar, and watched a hungry marmot munch roots by the lakeshore.
We climbed grassy slopes to a smaller tarn, and then followed a use trail to Bighorn Pass. On the east side of the pass, the best descent route was not obvious. I had previously read that we should follow a route to our right down grassy terraced gullies. This advice was correct, and we soon found a trail again. It required some scrambling down loose scree, and also some boulder crossing, but otherwise the trail was solid class 1-2.
Laurel Lake is a slice of heaven. We collected water from the shore, and took a long break to inspect the rather large granite blocks strewn about the northern meadows. If I had more time, I would have taken a zero day here.
We found a good trail on the western shore of Laurel Lake. We followed the trail south through a chain of cascading meadows and eventually into pine forest. When the trail steeply descended down the eastern side of Laurel creek into a bushwack, I suspected we had lost the route. My GPS showed a trail on the western side of the creek, so we changed course. We crossed the creek on big rocks, and regained a trail about 50 meters beyond that.
The switchbacks are steep from Laurel Canyon down to Mono Creek. I felt strong and enjoyed the rhythm of my big strides between boulder obstacles. I imagine that hiking this trail in the uphill direction must feel relentless, especially in the afternoon heat.
We eventually reached Mono Creek, and I walked with CB to the crossing for Second Recess. His plan is to continue south for a solo adventure, while I return to my car over Hopkins Pass. The Mono Creek ford was thigh deep, and crossing seemed safe. We shared farewells, and I watched him disappear across the creek into the forest.
I turned east, and cruised upstream on the Mono Creek trail. I rested at a nice campsite overlooking the canyon, near the Hopkins trail junction. I cooked noodle soup with chicken broth, stretched my legs, and prepared for more climbing. I passed two backpackers returning to Lake Edison, but otherwise the Mono canyon felt empty.
At 4pm I started up the Hopkins trail. The route was easy to follow and the grade was gentle. I settled into a meditative cadence of breathing and walking, and soon found myself in a grassy meadow above 10,000’. I followed a use trail towards the tarn (10,872’), but this trail led me into a canyon choked with cottonwood. To avoid bushwacking, I followed cairns along a weird route across rock ledges. In hindsight, I think a better route would be to use grassy slopes a quarter mile to the east in order to avoid ascending to that tarn altogether.
I reached Hopkins Pass at 6:45 pm. I rested at the oversized cairn and watched the sunset illuminate the Mono Recesses far to the south. This vista is huge and classic. To the north, Red & White Mountain cast a long shadow over Big McGee Lake. Daylight was fading, and I needed to descend before darkness arrived. I was worried about the snow cornice on Hopkins Pass north side, but I was happy to discover that it had melted enough for me to climb around its eastern edge on rocks. The Hopkins switchbacks were mostly clear of snow, and my descent was straightforward. Although I walked beneath the shadow of Red & White Mountain, the surrounding peaks glowed golden in the sunset. At the bottom of the pass, I crossed the outlet of a glacial tarn (11,040'), and then followed the use trail towards Big McGee Lake.
For my final night of the trip, I camped in an established site west of Big McGee Lake. The mosquitos seemed worse than before, so I collapsed in my tent, listened to a history podcast, and feasted on peanut M&Ms.
On July 6th, I returned to the McGee trailhead in three hours. The hiking was easy, downhill, and along well-engineered trail. I passed a few uphill day hikers, but the traffic seemed much less than I had seen on the July 4th holiday. Back at the trailhead, I soaked in the cold creek and washed off the dust. I then climbed into the back of my Subaru and took a long nap.
Photos in the comments.
Over the holiday weekend I completed a route that circumnavigates Red & White Mountain. My friend CB joined me. The route starts and ends at McGee Creek, and it links four passes: McGee, Shout of Relief, Bighorn, and Hopkins. Along the way, we also climbed Red Slate Mountain.
Mileage: 31.3 miles with +10,558’ elevation gain.
Special Gear: Ice axe, but never used.
Snow Conditions: Relatively low for this time of year. I crossed only small patches of snow, and was fine in my running shoes.
- A Google Earth screenshot summarizing my route
Details:
On July 3rd, I rendezvoused with my friend CB in Bishop. We drove to Big Pine and setup a car shuttle at the Big Pine Creek trailhead. CB is joining me for three days, then continuing south on his solo journey to the Palisades. He'll reach his car at Big Pine Creek sometime next week.
We drove back to the McGee Creek trailhead, and found the parking lot was full. We parked alongside the road and sorted our gear while we waited twenty minutes for a parking spot to open. We started hiking at 1pm, and enjoyed a non-eventful climb to Big McGee Lake. Along the way, we passed a dozen groups returning from day hikes.
We camped west of Big McGee Lake, in an established site near the tarn (10,586’). Mount Crocker and Mount Stanford glowed golden in the sunset.
On July 4th, I awoke to the sunrise heating my tent and I knew the day would be warm. We started hiking at 8am, and climbed McGee Pass by 9:30. Along the way, we encountered a steep patch of ice under shade. We managed to safely cross on the existing footsteps. However, without the footsteps, we would have needed crampons or to down-climb 150 feet to a safer route.
At McGee Pass, we stashed our non-essential gear and turned towards Red Slate Mountain. We ascended a good trail along the southern ridge. I could feel the altitude slow me down, and my friend said he was developing a headache. We rested at a rock outcropping 600’ below the summit. I fell asleep in the warm sun, and awoke thirty minutes later feeling revived for the final climb. It seems that CB and I are both still adjusting to the altitude.
We reached Red Slate Mountain summit at 11:30. The highest section of the peak looks treacherous from a distance, but I was happily surprised to discover that the trail weaves through the complex cliffs. It’s class 1-2 all the way.
We had the summit to ourselves. In the clear and cloudless sky, I could see south over the Mono Divide and north past the Minarets. 150 miles to the west, I saw the blue silhouette of the coastal range. The long views and easy weather made this was one of my favorite Sierra summit experiences.
Back at McGee Pass, we collected our gear and and descended towards Tully Lake. In the afternoon sun, the west side of the pass was a light show with green glowing meadows against red volcanic shale. We followed a chain of waterfalls down the canyon. We paused to collect water and apply mosquito repellant. We eventually reached Tully Lake. We swam in the (relatively) warm water, cooked meals on our stoves, and prepared for more climbing.
In the dramatic evening light, we strolled up grassy ramps towards Shout of Relief Pass. The route was gentle walking. We reached the pass at 6:30. Tired from our long day, we descended the pass and camped at the unnamed tarn (11,078’). We used an established campsite on its north shore, set between boulders and the shoreline meadow. As sunlight disappeared, I sat on a granite slab and drank whiskey while watching alpenglow illuminate the unnamed peaks that crown the basin.
On July 5th, the granite spires to our east blocked sunrise until 8am. I slept late, and we enjoyed a slow morning. I lounged on a flat rock in the sunshine, ate a granola bar, and watched a hungry marmot munch roots by the lakeshore.
We climbed grassy slopes to a smaller tarn, and then followed a use trail to Bighorn Pass. On the east side of the pass, the best descent route was not obvious. I had previously read that we should follow a route to our right down grassy terraced gullies. This advice was correct, and we soon found a trail again. It required some scrambling down loose scree, and also some boulder crossing, but otherwise the trail was solid class 1-2.
Laurel Lake is a slice of heaven. We collected water from the shore, and took a long break to inspect the rather large granite blocks strewn about the northern meadows. If I had more time, I would have taken a zero day here.
We found a good trail on the western shore of Laurel Lake. We followed the trail south through a chain of cascading meadows and eventually into pine forest. When the trail steeply descended down the eastern side of Laurel creek into a bushwack, I suspected we had lost the route. My GPS showed a trail on the western side of the creek, so we changed course. We crossed the creek on big rocks, and regained a trail about 50 meters beyond that.
The switchbacks are steep from Laurel Canyon down to Mono Creek. I felt strong and enjoyed the rhythm of my big strides between boulder obstacles. I imagine that hiking this trail in the uphill direction must feel relentless, especially in the afternoon heat.
We eventually reached Mono Creek, and I walked with CB to the crossing for Second Recess. His plan is to continue south for a solo adventure, while I return to my car over Hopkins Pass. The Mono Creek ford was thigh deep, and crossing seemed safe. We shared farewells, and I watched him disappear across the creek into the forest.
I turned east, and cruised upstream on the Mono Creek trail. I rested at a nice campsite overlooking the canyon, near the Hopkins trail junction. I cooked noodle soup with chicken broth, stretched my legs, and prepared for more climbing. I passed two backpackers returning to Lake Edison, but otherwise the Mono canyon felt empty.
At 4pm I started up the Hopkins trail. The route was easy to follow and the grade was gentle. I settled into a meditative cadence of breathing and walking, and soon found myself in a grassy meadow above 10,000’. I followed a use trail towards the tarn (10,872’), but this trail led me into a canyon choked with cottonwood. To avoid bushwacking, I followed cairns along a weird route across rock ledges. In hindsight, I think a better route would be to use grassy slopes a quarter mile to the east in order to avoid ascending to that tarn altogether.
I reached Hopkins Pass at 6:45 pm. I rested at the oversized cairn and watched the sunset illuminate the Mono Recesses far to the south. This vista is huge and classic. To the north, Red & White Mountain cast a long shadow over Big McGee Lake. Daylight was fading, and I needed to descend before darkness arrived. I was worried about the snow cornice on Hopkins Pass north side, but I was happy to discover that it had melted enough for me to climb around its eastern edge on rocks. The Hopkins switchbacks were mostly clear of snow, and my descent was straightforward. Although I walked beneath the shadow of Red & White Mountain, the surrounding peaks glowed golden in the sunset. At the bottom of the pass, I crossed the outlet of a glacial tarn (11,040'), and then followed the use trail towards Big McGee Lake.
For my final night of the trip, I camped in an established site west of Big McGee Lake. The mosquitos seemed worse than before, so I collapsed in my tent, listened to a history podcast, and feasted on peanut M&Ms.
On July 6th, I returned to the McGee trailhead in three hours. The hiking was easy, downhill, and along well-engineered trail. I passed a few uphill day hikers, but the traffic seemed much less than I had seen on the July 4th holiday. Back at the trailhead, I soaked in the cold creek and washed off the dust. I then climbed into the back of my Subaru and took a long nap.
Photos in the comments.
