High Sierra Topix

It's been a long winter with a record snowpack and the thaw of the High Sierra will be correspondingly later than ever this year. I had originally thought to not bother to do any High Sierra trips until after I return from fieldwork in Newfoundland (June 11-23), given that most of the High Sierra lakes will still be frozen as of June 23. However, I couldn't help but check Sentinel Hub Playground daily to check on the thaw progress. May 24 showed pretty much all backcountry (hike to) lakes frozen over except the lake downstream of Edyth L. Laurel was still totally frozen over and the ice was breaking up on Lake Vernon and Edyth. There followed a week of cloud cover, then the May 31 photo showed Vernon and Laurel completely thawed. I was training hard for Newfoundland because I felt my conditioning on my trip there last July was below par (but probably a result of cancer treatment) and I figured one mega dayhike would put me in prime shape for my first Newfoundland field day (June 13). Friday looked to be the ideal day because it was the only one that was forecast as clear (others had thundershowers forecast).
I was a bit concerned about being able to stay awake on the drive back from a 22-mile dayhike (longest dayhike I've done in my six decades of hiking), so I told Judy I might opt to either sleep out somewhere or get a room in Groveland; the key was getting quality sleep the night before. On Thursday night I did in fact get quality sleep and I awoke at 330 am ready to go. After coffee and the usual morning biological cycling, I hit the road at a smidge before 430 am and, shortly after showing my senior pass at the entrance station, arrived at the Hetch Hetchy day use parking at about 730 am. I did my usual pre-hike hydration, put down one of those new "builder" Clif Bars (recommended to me by my son, Lee), shouldered my large daypack (60L Flash which was once Dawn's main backpack) and was walking at about 738 am. There has been a fair amount of anxiety on my part going into this trip, but hearing and feeling the roar of the Hetch Hetchy outlet, and seeing Tueeulala and Wapama falls washed that all away. For most of us to post on this board, being in the High Sierra is something magical. The thought of the dreaded switchbacks could not dampen my mood, as I swung my arms happily. I looked at all of the roaring water and I thought that these were The Waters of June, not the Waters of March, but I couldn't help but get the last chorus line of the song stuck in my head: "It's the Joy in Your Heart". Even the big uphill out the gate could not dampen my mood, although the music in my head spontaneously changed to one that has been a "hiking tune" for me from my childhood; the finale of Schubert's 2nd piano trio. I tried to hold back a little on my pace because I had to conserve energy and leg power for a very long day of hiking ahead, but I still made my first rest stop, about 800' in elevation above the Eleanor trail split in about 1 hr 20 min. This clearly WAS different than 2022, when far lesser upgrades had Lee waiting patiently for me and asking "Dad, is this because of your cancer treatment?" I was able to maintain a good pace until I got to the Beehive area where I encountered the snow, water, and brush so nicely described in karstn's trip report. I think I expended more effort in that short stretch from just before the Beehive until the saddle just before the Moraine Ridge-Vernon trail split than I did for the rest of the hike combined (I'm counting this going both ways). There were some amazingly violent falls caused by getting tripped by brush while slogging through snow. One of them had me falling backwards into some water and I had two forward-splattering ankle tackles that led to head knocks against large branches. I sympathized with karstn and other backpackers who had to go through that with full packs instead of my relatively light oversized daypack. It goes without saying that the Joy in My Heart was absent hiking that section; as per my usual habit I filled the wilderness air with colorful language. I was utterly gassed when I reached the Moraine Ridge trail junction where I took my second and last rest stop before heading on to Lake Vernon.
The downhill from the trail junction brought the Joy back which was amplified after emerging from the trees to see the canyon of Falls Creek and then, finally, Lake Vernon, with the stupendous cascade from the Branigan Lake outlet (the great Falls Creek inlet cascade is hidden from view). But, out of nowhere, came a sobering jolt, when my left hamstring began to cramp. I did about a half minute of stretching and the cramps went away, never to return. On arrival, about 4 hours after I started the hike (arrival time depends on definition of when one considers 'arrived": this was anywhere from about 4:00 to 4:05 since leaving the car), I found reaching much of the shoreline a bit wet (wading to knee deep or more water). I had trouble identifying my favorite spot from the 2021 visit because the water level was more than a foot higher, but eventually I set up there and started fishing. Fishing was surprisingly slow; one expects fishing to be red hot right after the thaw. I did not see a single rise, nor see any cruising fish. I caught two rainbows of 13 and 14" which seemed rather "medium sized" after the standard-warping 2021 and 2022 seasons. I lost two other fish and had six other strikes. With a forecast of 63F and sunny, I did not think I'd require extra layers of clothing, but I had brought some anyway, just in case. I needed them because a stiff breeze made things quite chilly over the icy water. Thinking that I should rest my legs as much as possible for the hike out, I found a nice place that I could cast and retrieve sitting down. With the slow fishing, I periodically pondered leaving early and getting in a few casts in at Hetch Hetchy, but each time I told myself, "I pack up after this last cast", I'd get a strike on "that last cast", so I ended up fishing for nearly three hours. It was impossible not to keep looking around at the stunning scenery. There are so many reasons we love the High Sierra. Hiking out, my first concern was to avoid a recurrence of my May 2021 visit to Lake Vernon when I hiked out in soggy socks and struggled the last 8 miles with the 2nd worst blisters I'd ever had. This time I wrung out my socks carefully before getting started. Whereas many folks tend to be goal and destination oriented, I like to enjoy the hikes to and from as much as possible, but I must confess failing to find joy in the Beehive section in either direction. I figured once I got past that I'd be cruising downhill. Unfortunately, another anxiety factor popped up which should not have if I had been thinking rationally, but perhaps being a bit fatigued muddied my head a bit. The anxiety came as a result of a conversation I had with a backpacker whom I met just as I was leaving Lake Vernon. He mentioned something about Hetch Hetchy closing for day use at 5 pm (ie locking the gate both ways) and I did in fact recall seeing the sign (which said nothing about them locking folks in). Again, had I been thinking rationally there I would have realized that there is no way they'd lock day use folks in at 5 pm (sign says day use from 7am-5 pm), especially given that few of them would be equipped to spend the night at the backpacker's camp. But I had enough doubt in my head to phone Judy from the top of the steep descent (have cell service there but not at Hetch Hetchy) and tell her that there was a chance I might not make it back that evening owing to the "lock in" possibility. She rescheduled a 9 am optometry appointment I had for today for 1030 am figuring that if I was "let out" at 7am I'd be back before 1030 am. In spite of the needless stress from a lack of critical thinking, I still managed to have fun on the rapid descent, being careful not to step poorly and mess up my knees. I found myself spontaneously swinging my arms with joy again, while taking in the stupendous views of Hetch Hetchy. I reached my car at about 630 pm after a hike out of about 3 hrs 40 min and was quickly on my way. With light westbound traffic on 120 I had plenty of moments to revel in high performance mountain driving. During one of the slow interludes passing through Big Oak Flat I couldn't help but notice the new Around the Horn Brewing Company--their menu and brews looked mighty good when I studied them the day before. Someday I will have to check them out. I arrived home in the eastern San Francisco Bay area at 930 pm to enjoy some rewarmed dinner and a pint of Absolution's Nectaronomicon double dry hopped IPA and I did not feel overly tired or sore. Apparently the weighted (packweight ranging from about 30 to 60lbs) hill climbs I've been doing in the neighborhood pay off. Someday, Father Time will do to me what those branches did to me near the Beehive, but I won't stand around waiting for the moment. One can't really predict many things, but I can say with certainty that whether hiking slow or fast, short or long, the High Sierra will always bring out The Joy in My Heart.

Wow, that is a long day hike. You caught a few good fish and the views look amazing after a brutal winter. I hope to go in a few weeks on day hike to a few lakes I have fished too many times that bring back fond memories too. I have done Horton lakes by Bishop and caught small brookies in the morning which was so disappointing we then hiked out by noon. We then drove to Leavitt Meadows TH and hiked to Lane/Roosevelt caught good fish before dusk and then hiked out and drove back to Southern California that night believe it or not, but I was 23 or 24. We got home around 2am or 3am. We left the night before at midnight to go to Bishop for Horton Lakes because we heard of big fish but they weren't there for us, but at least we tried. Thanks for sharing.

Texan

Nice work! That'a more than I've bitten off for a day hike, but you have stories to tell. I'm hoping to get back out soon, but have a few things to wrap up around the house first.

texan wrote: ↑Sat Jun 03, 2023 8:25 pm I have done Horton lakes by Bishop and caught small brookies in the morning which was so disappointing we then hiked out by noon. We then drove to Leavitt Meadows TH and hiked to Lane/Roosevelt caught good fish before dusk and then hiked out and drove back to Southern California that night believe it or not, but I was 23 or 24. We got home around 2am or 3am. We left the night before at midnight to go to Bishop for Horton Lakes because we heard of big fish but they weren't there for us, but at least we tried. Thanks for sharing.
Texan

That is an over-the-top amount of driving in a single day, or rather a bit more than a single day. Interesting about the reports of big fish in Horton. The reports no doubt referred to the legendary large upper lake that held some mighty goldens during the air drop era. That era ended (probably?) with the gillnetting of those lakes (there were two upper lakes with goldens) several years ago. I first heard of the legend of Upper Horton (the main big upper lake) when camped at lower Horton to climb Mt Tom in 1981, but didn't get there until 1991 when I was back to revisit Mt Tom with my dad. I ended up skunking on what at that time were the biggest goldens I've ever seen (and then nearly got killed by a rolling boulder). I returned in 1996 or 1997 and found that after several heavy winters the top end golden size was much smaller (about a foot). I'm glad you cashed in at Roosevelt/Lane for all of your driving and hiking efforts. If it had been me I might have routed the second dayhike to Green Lake and saved driving time but that wouldn't have been as legendary as going all the way up to 108 for your second hike of the day.

Thanks John, I managed--just barely, to vicariously hike all the way with you-- Whew! 22 bleeding miles!
Congratulations on maintaining your great fitness. The photos were all very fine too. Cheers, Ian.

Thanks for the report! Echoing the others -- this is a ridiculous amount of hiking for a season opener. But you were obviously well prepared and the joy of your trip is evident.

Speaking of that joy -- I've realized that I experience something similar when hiking solo. Without other people to engage with, without others' needs to try to fulfill, I tend to find that it is the mountains themselves (and specifically, the high Sierra) that engage and fulfill me.