R03 TR: Thousand Is. L."Generations" 6/30-7/1/24 Part 1

[giantbrookie]

Some High Sierra destinations get "over exposed" or receive more hype than experienced High Sierra hikers believe is justified. In contrast, other revered locations in the High Sierra exceed expectation no matter how jaded we might be. Thousand Island Lake belongs in the latter category. The view of Mt. Banner and flanking peaks viewed across the huge island-studded lake ranks among the best in the Range of Light. Whereas Thousand Island Lake owes its popularity to scenery, older literature gives a negative assessment of fishing. To quote the first edition of Schwenke and Winnett's Sierra North (1967) "Fishing for brook and rainbow (to 13") is poor to fair..." As the years have gone by fish population density has increased in many High Sierra lakes since the 1960s, so that the fish size has vastly declined. This has led to many wistful statements from "old timers" about "The way it used to be". In contrast, the termination of systematic air dropping of fingerlings in some lakes has reduced the population density, resulting in an increase in top end size, at least temporarily. Doesn't mentioning good fishing in a named lake violate the notorious "Code of Silence"? Not for a lake this enormous with so many fish. Similarly, the immense size of this lake and intricacy of its endless shoreline allows visitors to find solitude in spite of its justifiable popularity and location along the PCT.

Visiting 1000 Island Lake for the first time since 1973 for me came at the request of my daughter, Dawn, who wanted an "extra" backpacking trip before we leave on a family vacation to Japan that, along with other activities, precludes a High Sierra trip until August. My satellite photo check showed the lake thawed about a week and a half before the trip date. Game on. My sole visit to the lake came 51 years ago with my dad, mom, and younger brother. We camped there as a based to climb Ritter (me and my dad) and Banner (me, my dad, and bro). In 1973 we hiked the optimal way from Agnew Meadow (Reds Meadow), whereas Dawn and I did the glute-hammie-calf-busting Rush Creek-Clark Lakes route. This hike proved a good test of methods in backpack conditioning technique. This goes double for someone who turns 65 in early August and is a prostate cancer patient-for-life. I plan to enjoy this hiking fitness while I can, because at some point I may start hormone therapy and I probably won't be able to hike this strongly.

I hadn't done the full hike out of Rush Creek to Thousand Island L. before, but I dayhiked much of it in early 1970 to climb Carson Peak with my dad, although the upper part of the trail was entirely covered by snow. I got scared out of my wits on that climb which we finished with a lot of exposed class 3 on the north ridge. We then descended the easy way (class 1) but I also got sketched out as I lagged behind my dad and saw mountain lion tracks in the snow. I had watched too many of those nature documentaries where the predator hunts the straggler. On that trip my dad took of photo of me with this dead snag and Carson Peak in the background. On Labor Day weekend of 1987, the only previous time I carried a full pack up (the first part of) that trail to Davis L as a base to climb Mt Rodgers, I took a photo of my backpacking buddy Todd with the same tree. The photo also didn't turn out so well because the air was really smoky from a wildfire burning west of Yosemite which had closed off 120 (Todd and I went to the east side from Davis by way of Monitor Pass). That fire was no doubt the reason we were able to acquire a walk up wilderness permit on Labor Day weekend from the USFS kiosk they once had near the Silver Lake trailhead (long ago closed, as well as the legendary one on the Bishop Creek road). Judy and I dayhiked to Agnew Lake on June 11, 1988 and we also took photos at that place.

From 2019 to 2023 Dawn has pushed me to the limit on trailed ascents with a full pack. In 2019 and 2022 she clearly had an edge. My 2022 struggles prompted me to do weighted hill climbs as my out-of-Sierra training and it paid dividends late that season beyond. Last year during the first part of the horrid (100+ heat) ascent out of Hetch Hetchy I struggled to keep up with Dawn, but you could say she "went out too fast" and eventually faded down the stretch going. This year Dawn was a bit off the level of training (running in her case) she had maintained 2019-2023 owing to not continuing regular running after her last track season ended (graduated from high school this spring). This showed on the mellow family backpack we did to Poore Lake.

In contrast, I had maintained the weighted training hikes and ratcheted up the other part of backpack training which is to get conditioned for backpacking by backpacking. I had one "extra" (solo) hard dayhike (hiking in the snow to Lower Velma Lake), plus my "extra" solo backpack (6/19-20) to Kaiser Wilderness on which I cut loose at about 90 percent on the ascents for training purposes (Only 100 percent efforts for me were with Dawn or Lee 2019-2023). On the Kaiser Wilderness ascent, I noticed that I was able to maintain the "steep-ascents-on-toes" for the entirety of the hike in while setting a decent pace (Potter Pass in 45 min). I can't recall doing that for at least 16 years (and possibly the last 30 years). After my dad and I "crossed over" (ie I led after this and carried the heavier pack) when he was 51 and I was 20 in 1979 he'd view the ascent-on-toes thing with amazement. I think the new pack set up that Lee bought me as a Christmas present (Gregory Baltoro 85 Pro, Lee fine-tuned the fitting), has helped. Never in my life has a pack felt so balanced and comfortable.
After the Poore Lake trip I reminded Dawn to do some training while I was gone at a geologic conference in Bellingham WA the week before our Thousand Island trip; I figured she'd need it. As we packed Dawn also wanted to carry the tent for the first time, so she strapped it on the back of her Gregory Deva 70. I joyfully loaded my pack into the trunk of my car. I was pretty sure this was the lightest pack I've carried in my adult life.

Dawn and the nice view of Mono Lake at sunset from the Tioga Lodge.

Having spent a night zero in the viewful Tioga Lodge at Mono Lake (dinner at the usual Whoa Nellie) we had a super early start, steaming out of the trailhead at 645 am to beat the heat on that relentless ascent. I set my ascent pace in the 80 percent range, but then backed off to about 70 as I separated too fast from Dawn. After about 400 feet of gain Dawn said she had to give up the tent, so I strapped it on. It made little difference. I still felt nearly packless, and the steady ascent hammered Dawn's pace and spirit. Knowing how much Dawn likes old family stories, I looked for "the tree" figuring that a photo and story would help cheer her up a tad. The dead snag still stands and the live tree has continued to grow. I took a photo of Dawn at that place, but I didn't frame it exactly the same. 54 years.... Wow.

Me in early 1970 at "the tree" en route to climb Carson Pk in background. This is a cell phone photo of my dad's home darkroom B&W print.

Judy and me at "the tree" June 11, 1988

June 30, 2024: me and the tree.

June 30, 2024: Dawn and "the tree".

At Agnew Lake we made the turnoff to the Clark Lakes trail. I hadn't ever carried a full pack up that stretch. It is indeed a merciless climb of 1600' above Agnew Lake to the high point just above Clark Lakes but the hike still just felt like another workout. Steep-ascents-on-toes all the way. I would stop occasionally to wait for Dawn and try to encourage her. With all the fresh snow melt crossings I also made a number of stops to rehydrate both of us; I carry a little rubber cup in my pocket for quick scooping. Since our entry day was Sunday, we encountered nobody in-bound (ie nobody passed us and we didn't pass anyone), but we met a moderate number of outbound hikers. These hikers illustrated the changes in backpacking demographics since 1973. Nine out of the first ten backpackers we met were women and we met more backpackers-of-color than I'd see in 10 years of hiking in the "old days".

Dawn's first view of the Ritter Range

During one of the ups and downs in the Clark Lakes area we met three sturdy young men backpacking out with fishing rods projecting from their packs. "Where did you fish?" I asked. "Thousand Island". "What was your top end?" "Seventeen inches, but most were in the 11-15" range". I took note of that and we hiked on. Dawn really struggled on that last uphill from the River Trail junction. Note that Tom Harrison maps err on the elevation of the trail junctions, so if you rely on those elevations, you'll underestimate the total elevation gain. On the recent edition which I purchased the night before at Whoa Nellie some of the errors have been corrected, but the River Trail junction is still given too high an elevation so that the last uphill is underestimated. I had casually called out the elevation gain for this hike as about 3000' but a closer inspection of the topo shows it to be closer to 3500'.

Dawn was none too pleased with my underselling, quoting Lee who says that I tend to short distance and elevation by a good 30 percent. I really do not intentionally underestimate hiking distances and gain, but I had all-too-casually called out the specs for this hike based on a quick glance at my earlier edition Harrison map.
After topping out on the last ascent I encountered two guys backpacking holding fly rods with spinning rods tied to their packs. I asked them how they had fared. "Middling, and all the fish were small." I wondered if this was an intentional sandbag to put me off the scent. I also encountered two young women hiking out wearing mosquito nets. This was only the second time I've seen someone other than one of my family members wearing a mosquito net. I had figured that the relatively low forecast temps (61 for Sunday rising to 68 for Tuesday), the forecast steady winds, and the open nature of Thousand Island Lake would make for cool, breezy conditions that would minimize mosquito issues. I spoke with the two hikers and they were clearly unhappy about the level of abuse from the blood-sucking airborne forces. Given that Dawn and I are serious mosquito magnets I worried, but a good breeze blew at the time, giving some reason for optimism.

As we reached the lake (at about 1145 am), Dawn wanted to stop and camp as soon as possible. This flashed me back to 1973. I led as my dad stayed back with my mom and younger bro. I wanted to escape the crowds and get us closer to Glacier Pass so I was aiming far west along the northwestern shore. My dad was upset with me because my mom was really having a hard time. This time I looked around the lake and realized that going as far as planned would likely lead to soggier ground, so I camped us in a breezy place on high ground, still a bit damp from recently-melted snow, a smidge east of the stream that heads at Island Pass. This was close to the location of the 1973 camp, which was much closer to the lake (fall trip, so mosquitoes were a non-factor on that visit).

Near the outlet of Thousand Is. L. Dawn gets to take in the classic view.

Just arrived in camp we get the view of Banner across the lake.

Dawn had said she would be too tired to fish, so we spent the first hour upon arrival fully setting up the camp, including pitching the tent, inflating the sleeping pads and pillows (Exped max size pillows) and acquiring the water supply, carrying water up to camp from lake with the Sea to Summit 20L "Kitchen Sink" (another recent gear addition from Lee). I figured Dawn would take a nap and relax in camp while I went fishing. However, Dawn said she'd take a short nap then go fishing herself. She figured it wouldn't be hard to find me, but Thousand Island Lake is different than any wilderness lake in her experience. The infinite irregular perimeter makes limits the view to specific reaches and conceals a lot.

I fired off my first serious casts at about 2 pm and instantly hooked up with a somewhat slender 15-inch rainbow. I had a go-to place where I caught most of my fish, but I found many places around the lake perimeter where eager fish would hit. At 6 pm I cleaned the sole fish of twenty (twelve rainbows, eight brookies) that I kept for dinner, a thick 16.5" brookie. The four hours of fishing had been arguably my top quantity-quality experience to date. Nineteen of the twenty fish landed were 12" and over (new single day PR) and of those eleven were 15+" (also new single day PR). The fish fought hard---so many of them had the strength of fish over 18". The action was so electric that I did not defend myself adequately against the most intense mosquito attacks I've experienced in years. I think I was bitten more times that afternoon than I'd been in some entire seasons. I don't think a single square centimeter of skin on my face, neck, and hands (only exposed places) lacked a mosquito bite.

I had spent a lot of time on my feet that day so I was a bit wobbly making a fairly long hike back to camp. I was a bit concerned about locating the camp but remembered that my bear cannister was visible from the lower of the two use trails and that this lower trail had two flooded sections just east of the camp. As I looked for familiar visual indicators of camp, I got careless and tripped and slammed my left shin into a rock. I felt the wrong kind of wetness, then noticed a spreading zone of wetness on my lower pant leg. I was surprised I was bleeding so much but figured it wasn't anything serious so I returned to looking for camp and soon saw Dawn standing. I waved and shouted to her, then carried the big brookie to the camp. It was a bit short of 7 pm, so it was dinner time.

Dawn had her own story to tell that once again brought back echoes of 1973. She had the stressful experience of getting lost trying to find me and then getting lost getting back to camp. Fortunately, after suffering from panic and despair, she used her superb memory to recognize some familiar local landmarks and found the camp. Arriving back at camp an hour before me, she then worried about whether something had happened to me. Back in 1973 my dad and I took 14 hours to climb Ritter (west face) owing to a monumental route-finding error I made fairly low on the face which got us into some intense class 4 climbing (I nailed the proper route on descent and kept it at entirely class 2). Back in camp my mom and younger brother got increasingly concerned and were on the point of setting out to summon rescue folks when my dad and I returned. My dad and I were mightily relieved we'd arrived in time since the total absence of navigational skill of my mom or bro could have easily made them subjects of a search and rescue that we would have had to launch.
After dinner we turned in fairly early. A breeze persisted, even during the evening, and the temperatures dropped quickly after the sun set behind Mt. Davis, keeping the bugs away. Dawn remarked that she was glad to be back in "real" High Sierra after we avoided higher elevations for all of 2023 owing to the huge snowfall (highest elevation Dawn reached in 2023 was below 9k).

Our first morning sunrise view to Mt. Banner.

Monday morning broke cold and crisp, but breezeless. The lake was glass. Various places in the lake were dimpled with innumerable rises, with occasional big cannonball splashes from big ones. Dawn resolved to stick with me the entire day to avoid the mishap of the previous day. The wind failed to materialize and mosquitoes attacked so relentlessly that Dawn spent the entire day on high ground with her net on and her hands in her pockets. I explored more of the lake perimeter and had another hugely successful day of fishing. As the day progressed, the priority changed from fishing to finding windier reaches with fewer mosquitoes. In the mid afternoon Dawn and I found such a place and wished we could stay there and take a nap, but we were far from camp. Many of the flying swarms were non-biting male mosquitoes or midges, but during one part of the hike across a particularly mushy area we ran into some black clouds that were in fact mosquitoes. I looked in horror at the "black fur" on my shirt sleeves, then killed 50 or so with a single swat. The climax for me came a bit later when I inhaled two mosquitoes which triggered an explosive coughing attack which escalated until I gagged and dry heaved twice. Two wet mosquitoes were eventually expelled.

[giantbrookie]

At about 5 pm Dawn found a breezy casting place where mosquitoes attacks were mild enough so she was encouraged to make what would be her only casts of the trip. What followed was one of the most extreme fishing binges I've ever witnessed. Dawn caught fish on her first four casts. All four hit hard and ripped out line on sizzling runs. The smallest of the four fish was a 14" brookie. The other three fish were rainbows in the 15+" range with the best one going about 16.5". These were thicker than any of the longer (16" range) rainbows I had caught up to that time. Around 6 pm after Dawn had made no more than about 20 total casts, she decided to quit because the mosquitoes were appearing in clouds around us. She had strikes on all of the 20 casts and these resulted in 10 fish caught, 8 of which were 15" or better, all of which took out a lot of line. A few fish hit and disengaged aerially and one monster broke her off. I fished a lot longer that day than Dawn, probably about 4 hours total and finished with a total of 24 fish, reset that 12+" PR at 23, but came up short of the 15+" mark (8). One rainbow I caught earlier in the day was kept for the dinner main course. Three of my 9 brookies were kept to pack out and take home, and Dawn kept a bag limit of 5 rainbows, all in the 15.5-16.5" range.
As per the usual practice the fish to be kept were cleaned immediately after killing, then hung from a tree (in the shade, earlier in the day) to be wrapped in the "fish towel" to be packed out on our last morning. Owing to the mosquito attacks and the fact we had saved enough fish for more than two family (of four) dinners upon our return home, we decided to forego the last morning's fishing session, pack up and hike out early Tuesday. Monday afternoon we noticed two guys had found a better campsite on higher ground above us. They wore mosquito nets, too.

The first of Dawn's fish caught on her amazing run of fishing. This one is a smidge over 16".

Dawn sets up a viewing seat at the highest ground around our campsite

Dawn's view of Mt. Davis from her seat.

Dawn gets the great sunset view of Mt. Banner.

On Tuesday we hit the trail at about 745 am after watching a second gorgeous sunrise on the lake and Mt. Banner. The uphill portions bothered Dawn again, but steep downhills pounded her knees and we took a few extra breaks to ease the pounding. We made a stop in Bridgeport to have lunch at Jolly Kone and then drove non-stop to the East Bay, arriving home at about 5 pm. Dawn had called Judy to give her some highlights of the trip along the way, with the main focus of the story being her getting lost. Dawn said that in spite of getting lost, suffering on the hiking side, and getting pounded by mosquitoes, that this three-day trip ranked among her all time favorites. She ranked it on the same epic level as the best of our long (week and longer) trips. She said so much went on during the trip that it seemed much longer than three days. Perhaps High Sierra backpacking does in fact expand time, slowing the aging process for those that believe in it.

The eight fish we packed out, including five of Dawn's rainbows.

The second dinner of fillets from Dawn's rainbows cooked up by Chef Lee is one of the tastiest fish dishes I've ever had.

Tuesday night I cooked up the three brookies (13-14") that looked puny next to Dawn's five rainbows on the unrolled fish towel. Lee worked late and ate out, so we saved the rainbows for Wednesday night. Lee filleted them, then cooked them in one of the most stunning fish dishes we've ever had. They were oven baked covered by thin slices of yellow potato and with this amazing sauce based on Lee's homemade teriyaki sauce. I'd never seen a fish dish like this and asked Lee where the inspiration came from. It is apparently from some channel he follows by some Michelin starred restaurant. Lee, however, had to adapt considerably to optimize the process for the thinner fillets we had (compared to the video he watched). There is enough fish left for a big 4th of July lunch. The memories of this trip will carry me and Dawn through the next month before our scheduled big trip in mid-late August. More than 50 years of experiences connect three generations of my family to the joys in the Range of Light. Nowhere is that connection stronger than at Thousand Island Lake.

[neckbeard7]

Incredible write-up per usual, and it sounds like a stellar trip! There is a reason that Lake was one of Muir's favorites! I was up there a few days before and had a very similar experience on all levels.

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[texan]

Great TR GB. Looks like you and your daughter had a great time plus had outstanding fishing. I remember last year you said you were going to 1000 island lake soon and you did. I was in the same area as you too. We rented a townhouse by Fern Lake TH from 6/28-7/2. I did a little fishing too. We went to Parker Lake and got skunked(too many people). I was able to get out by myself in the evening at Grant Lake inlet(6/30) and caught a big rainbow on the biggest panther martin I had. I wanted to release the fish as fast as I could so I left the fish in the net in the water for a successful release. Please see pic. Cheers.

Texan(Mike)

[giantbrookie]

That rainbow is HUGE!

[SSSdave]

Despite such a short trip, easily the best ever Thousdand Island Lake fishing report. 2011, 2017, 2019, 2023 have all had heavy winters allowing some productive spawning that is mainly in it's excellent stream coming in the west end of the lake off Banner. So some of those spawning fish have grown.

Good to read there are now lots of mid large sized fish in the lake, besides the several giants I video'd then wrote about last year. Was going to do a week long semi-base camp circle the lake trip there again this year with my fishing brother J but with permits only available on weekends for Agnew Meadows expected they would be impossible. And would not even think about coming in from way down at Silver Lake with my huge pack.

[LMBSGV]

I have enjoyed reading all your family trip reports and watching Dawn grow up. It's wonderful she's taking the initiative and suggesting places to go. Thousand Island is definitely one of those places one must get to at least once. And wow, what great fishing on this trip.

[windknot]

Thanks for the report, John. So neat that you have had this experience of coming to this area with three different generations of your family over the past 50 years. Also cool to see the outstanding fishing results, despite the horrendous mosquitoes. You're a much more determined fisherman than I -- I mostly avoid June/July backcountry trips because too many mosquitoes can ruin a trip for me.

[RiseToADry]

The fishing results are phenomenal but what really hit me about this report were the pictures of "the tree" spanning 54 years! It's also astounding to see the growth of the tree next to the seminal snag.

Every person that I've spoken with says the Ritter Range exceeds the hype despite the over exposure. I'll have to get to there in the next couple years - my July 4th trip in 2019 was foiled due to the outrageous winter. This is the push I needed.

[oddtiger]

Thanks for sharing this trip report and the generational experiences/stories. I just experienced my "personal-worst" mosquitoes attack over this July-4th trip in SE Yosemite. Hopefully it will be much improved when my daughters join me in late July.