R08 TR: 8/23-8/25 2024 planned Hoover BP into wind and snow for fun
Posted: Mon Aug 26, 2024 4:10 pm
It is a good safety principle to check the NWS/NOAA weather forecast for the specific area one plans to head in the High Sierra. Normally the forecast for 8/23 and 8/24 at our (me and Dawn) targeted destination would serve to cancel or reschedule the trip: Friday 8/23 High of 40(F), very windy with winds of 35-45 mph and gusts to 55 mph. Friday night. 30 percent chance of snow after 5 pm. low of 30. Winds of 25-35 mph with gusts to 45 mph. Saturday. 40 percent chance of snow. High of 38. Winds of 25-35 with gusts to 45 mph. This reads like an October snowstorm in late August.
I thought, however, that Dawn hadn't ever seen falling snow and that with proper equipment and preparation she might enjoy the experience of backpacking and camping in such conditions. In addition, one can bail out of our planned destination to gentle terrain 1500' lower easily, so if things ended up harsher than forecast, we could escape to safety even in a blinding snowstorm. An additional important planning item was the fact that campfires are allowed at our destination, even though it is at fairly high elevation (above 10kft). This was important given the fact that the super high winds could potential make cooking with a gas stove difficult. Of course, a warm campfire also makes those cold days and nights more comfortable, too. Lee supervised a some fine-tuning in our cold weather gear and that contributed to our comfort. In addition, we packed a huge amount of snack food--this was as much as we'd normally take for a 5-6 day trip. The reason for this is that when one has to hunker down in a tent for a long time one either takes a nap or one munches; we did in fact do a lot of during-day snacking, in and out of the tent. Weird unseasonal weather commonly (in my experience) drastically changes fish behavior resulting in poor fishing or skunkage, so the main objective of this trip was in fact to enjoy the oddball 'foul weather' backpacking experience rather than fishing. This ended up being the most fun Dawn had had on a backpacking trip in a long time, so this goes down as one of my favorite trips with her to date.
The usual "non-disclosure" statement. Owing to the fishing Code of Silence and the fact that fish were in fact caught, the name of our destination will not be given. However, the photos and other information should make the destination fairly obvious.
Day Zero to Bridgeport, Thursday August 22. The day zero allows for an early start as well as a bit of altitude adjustment. We stayed at the Bodie Inn. This was a comfortable, cute, place, and the proprietor, Jeff, was really nice. We also exchanged some fishing information; that morning he had a large brookie experience at a lake I had never even considered as a candidate for large fish. In return, I gave him some suggestions on the top giant brookie lakes of the High Sierra. After checking in but before dinner, we headed next door to Big Meadow Brewing, where I grabbed a couple of pints of their pale ale and found, to my amusement, that Jeff was hanging out at the bar. His phone rang and he hustled out to check in more folks at the Bodie. Then I understood the little message on the front desk of the lobby with his number, which was something to the effect to call him and he'd be there in a minute.
Day One, Friday August 23.
We took our time getting going in the morning, in contrast to the early start we had from Lee Vining back at the end of June for our Thousand Island Lake trip. I'm not sure what Dawn had been doing for conditioning, outside of her home cardio/strength stuff she does, but she hiked strongly, even if short of her 2019-2023 peak form. The last part of the hike is the most demanding with 1400' of gain crammed into the last mile and half (less I suppose if one ascends more directly and steeply) of an 8.2-mile hike (total elevation gain is approximately 3000') and Dawn labored a bit, but not hugely, so we got to our destination a bit before 1 pm, a hiking time of a little less than 5 hours. This is my third time to this destination and that grueling climb is more or less off trail. Parts of the trail (the middle part) are in decent shape and not too difficult to follow, but other reaches, but the bottom and lower portions lack a clear track. The middle section also has some long switchbacks that are nice descending (easier on knees) but I prefer a more direct ascending path so I fine-tuned my lower/middle ascent route, building on the ascents I did with Dawn in 2019 and Lee in 2021 (very close to route I did with Lee but a bit nicer). Even the main trail in the valley has places where things get a bit confused in the vicinity of wash outs (lots of cattle and game paths make this worse) and on return (Sunday). I lost the trail in the same place in the sage brush I lost it with Lee in 2021 (recovered track without too much effort, though). The bottom line is that this is destination that requires topo map reading skills.
With the wind roaring, the first priority I had was to get the tent up and the campsite "arranged" for comfortable habitation. Given the Friday entry I worried that someone might get the most sheltered campsite that I had occupied on my previous trips. As it turned out nobody was at the destination and we saw nobody there during our three days. The campsite really took the edge off the gales. I had Dawn help me pitch the tent, but the natural windbreaks made this easier than pitches I did at more open and exposed sites we'd pitched at earlier in the year, such as at Thousand Island Lake and especially Poore Lake (where Lee's tent "escaped" and Dawn rescued it from being blown into the lake). We also did some foraging for firewood before Dawn relaxed around camp as I rigged up to check on the fishing conditions. On trips of more than one night, Dawn commonly chooses to relax in camp rather than fish, but this time it was sort of mandatory because it turned out she forgot to pack her reel.
I wound up fishing from about 2 to 5 pm, using the wind direction to dictate my targets----Although the wind generally blew from the south making the south apex of the lake the most sheltered, later in the day a north wind became more common so I moved. By 5 pm the wind seemed to be swirling and constantly changing making it difficult to find a "hiding place" so I hustled back to camp. The first two hours went sort of as predicted. Zero fish, zero strikes, zero trailers and fish sighted, and three lures snagged and lost at the bottom. After moving north, I hooked and released a little 9-incher, by far the smallest fish I'd ever caught at this lake. A few casts later it appeared that I was snagged and likely to lose a 4th lure. I tightened my drag, walked one way along the shore and tugged--wouldn't budge. I walked the other way and tugged again. All the time I checked for signs of head shaking and saw none, I was clearly snagged. I tugged yet again and it came loose. I could feel that I hadn't lost my lure, too, but when I finished the retrieve, I noticed a fish eyeball on one of the Kastmaster hooks. Well, THAT was a surprise. Just before quitting I caught and released another 9-incher then caught and released a 6-incher.
Upon return to camp, I found Dawn relaxing around the campsite. I got the campfire going and in a hour or so had built up a good bed of coals to boil water over. My failure to catch a decent-sized fish led to Plan B for dinner. I also carry extra food to cover skunkage but for this trip we had more than usual, because meal planning was on the basis of skunkage being likely. We shared two full dehydrated backpacking meals. We found our cold weather gear kept us nice and comfortable, and Dawn enjoyed the experience. Our clothing scheme included base layers (top and bottom), with 5.11+ pants), hiking shirts (over base layer), North Face down jackets (heavy ones with hood), and waterproof/breathable shells over all. We also had additional fleece head covering (the kind where that covers everything except the face). In addition, her forgetting her reel made her fully realize that fishing is secondary for her; she just enjoys the total High Sierra experience. This helped her understand non-fishing High Sierra enthusiasts more, including folks like Todd, who was part of our 2020 and 2021 9-day trips.
The weather forecast had said "30 percent chance of snow after 5 pm" but snow had not started to fall yet. Figuring that snow would fall during the night and would probably stick, in contrast to "little or no snow accumulation expected". I put a very large piece of wood on the fire before turning in. I figured that the fire would go out during the night but there would be some live coals beneath what was left of the stump. This would be useful to restart the fire in the morning when all the kindling and other wood would be wet and snow covered.
Day Two, Saturday August 24.
The night was exciting and noisy what with the wind howling in the trees and these amazing gusts that sounded like jet engines and shook the tent with seismic intensity. But Dawn and I were quite comfortable in our tent--an REI Half Dome SL 3+. The rainfly zipped all the way down breaks the wind very nicely (top vents with "kickstand" closed too), so we didn't have wind ripping through the interior. I'm not sure when the snow began to fall but I could hear it; probably something like 2 am or so. As the sky lightened I could see the snow covering the fly--it would occasionally slough off . We awoke at a bit past 6 am, but it kept snowing so we stayed in the tent until after 7am when the snow eased up again. As expected, the snow exceeded the "little or no snow accumulation expected". Based on inspection of my cooking pot and cups, it appears accumulation was about 1.5-2 inches with much deeper drifts where gravity and/or wind enhanced this. Snow was piled to about 1 foot depth against the sides of our tent--this was the snow that had slid off of the roof. To the layered clothing theme of the previous day we added waterproof/breathable rain pants given that we would have a dry place to sit.
Before Dawn emerged, I had restarted the fire. As predicted the remnants of the big piece of wood had protected a bit of the fire ring and there were in fact live coals beneath. Snow-covered wood (shaken to get some of the snow off first) ignited easily. There would be no Jack London "To Build a Fire" scenario (yeah that popped into my head at times; how can it not?). Soon I had water boiling and Dawn and I got extra enjoyment from our oatmeal, hot chocolate, and Starbucks instant coffee. The landscape was unlike anything I'd seen in the High Sierra in August. I'd hiked into the Sierra after fall storms in October that left things looking somewhat similar to what we saw on Sunday after much of the new snow fall had melted off.
For the entirety of the daylight hours of Saturday I think the total duration of actual direct sunshine was about 4 minutes. Otherwise, it was entirely overcast with intermittent light snow showers from sunup to sundown. The wind continued to roar for much of the day and on the lake, providing a unique sight-sound experience---the sight and sound of "crashing surf"--made all the more unique with the lake rimmed by new fallen snow.
I didn't bother to attempt fishing until about 930 am. For the day I stayed close to camp, at times running down to the shore for a few casts while waiting for water to boil or for dehydrated food to reconstitute. Until early afternoon it was so cold that water beaded on my retrieving line froze in the lead line guides; I'd have to chip that out for best casting efficiency. I think it was about 945 am or so when I finally caught a good-sized fish, a 16" male golden. Dawn was with me, so she snapped some photos of me posing with the fish in the snow, as snow continued to fall. Now I had us covered for a "normal" dinner, figuring that the 16-incher could be our main course and we could have a dehydrated meal as our "side dish".
Later I caught a 14-incher and Dawn suggested we eat that one for dinner and reserve the larger fish for what we hoped would be a stash of fish we'd hike out for family dinners. Our family loves to eat trout and there is a running debate over 'best eating' species. Dawn and I favor goldens (I rank cutthroat a very close second), whereas Lee likes cutthroat (he still thinks the golden at this lake are special rather than typical---he hasn't really had goldens from anywhere else). Judy gives cutties a slight edge over goldens.
Keeping fish fresh for hike out under these conditions was easier-than-usual. I gutted and cleaned fish immediately, then hung them from a tree branch. On Sunday, these were wrapped into the usual "fish towel" to pack out, then put into the cooler in my car to drive home. I ended up packing out 6 fish from 12 to 16" which is enough for two full dinners for our family of four.
Not long after the late morning session, the wind and snow became fierce enough to prompt us to head for the tent. Dawn requested I bring the map (Hoover Wilderness Tom Harrison), so we could discuss other potential trips as well as see the context of our location compared to other places we'd been on that map. As expected, we nibbled on lots of snack food---this sort of began as 'brunch' and evolved to lunch. The map reminded me that the two alternative targets for this trip---Evelyn Lake was one, and Return Lake was the other---would not have worked well for us because they were above the campfire elevation limit in Yosemite. Eventually, Dawn dozed off, and I crept out of the tent after about an hour and a half to maintain the fire a bit, then run off for a few casts here and there.
Saturday evening, we enjoyed the more "normal" full meal of fish plus the dehydrated side dish. I grilled the golden with salt, pepper, and garlic powder on my usual folding grill over the coals. This was served with a squeeze of lemon juice (had packed in a lemon from our backyard tree for that purpose) with Lee's superb homemade teriyaki sauce drizzled over it. While waiting for the dehydrated meal to reconstitute (had started water boiling after I took the fish off the grill), I ran down to the shore to fire off a few casts. The last of these brought in a 15-inch golden. After finishing dinner, Dawn remarked that her stomach was much happier than it was after we put down the two dehydrated meals the night before. It wasn't that the dehydrated meals weren't tasty, because they were, but grilled fresh golden is better, plus both Dawn's and my digestive system function better with fresh fish as the main course.
Day 3. Sunday August 25.
After a long but comfortable night, we emerged to a "nearer to normal" morning, cold, windless and clear, much like a typical High Sierra morning in October. We had the usual hot breakfast and packed up on a relaxed schedule. Normally we might have stayed until noon or so to enjoy the milder weather, but since Dawn had forgotten her fishing gear she gave me a time limit which I abided with. I think we ended up beginning the hike out at about 1045 am. Because of my fish load, I was, as is common on my backpacking trips, carrying more than I packed in, so I was careful on the steeper parts of the initial descent. I recalled all too well when my right knee collapsed under one of the heaviest loads I'd ever carried here in 2021 with Lee (super heavy because of combined fish carry-out between the two of us). Dawn descended well and also did a good job path finding---she put me back on the faint track twice when I lost it for the section ("middle section") that we planned to be on it.
Once on the main trail, Dawn shifted into her "late to catch train" mode. Although we both sailed down the trail, I figured we shouldn't go too long without a break, otherwise we might cramp up later. I guessed she did not want to rest until the main stream crossing and before I could suggest stopping she said we should take a break there; we had been hiking for a bit less than 2 hours at that point. We then powered through the finish line, with the only glitch being that Dawn forgot our starting point (uncharacteristic for someone with such a photographic memory) so you could say she began her finishing kick about 1.5 miles too early. So she didn't end up "running through the tape", so to speak, but we got to the car in about 3 hrs and 25 min. This concluded one of the most enjoyable backpacking trips we'd ever been on. And, make no mistake, this would have in fact been fun with zero fish (even for me).
On the hike out we met the only people we saw in the backcountry during those three days. The first was a solo backpacker at the base of the final steep ascent. He had in fact seen the weather report and adjusted his entry day to Sunday. Down in the valley we met a couple also headed for the lake. They had in fact started hiking on Friday but in view of the weather camped in the valley for the two rough days then figured to head up to the lake on Sunday. Even at that elevation (below 9000) they said the weather was pretty harsh including some snow fall and ferocious winds, so they were interested in our account of how it played out up high. Later, closer to camp we met a couple of day hikers. Most folks are sensible and choose to avoid the sort of weather that Dawn chose to hike into. But, if one is adequately prepared, backpacking into such conditions can actually be fun for those of us who enjoy such things. And, speaking of different strokes for different folks, I was extra happy to be backpacking with Dawn, after finding out that I didn't enjoy solo backpacking a week before. I would not have enjoyed this trip solo.
I thought, however, that Dawn hadn't ever seen falling snow and that with proper equipment and preparation she might enjoy the experience of backpacking and camping in such conditions. In addition, one can bail out of our planned destination to gentle terrain 1500' lower easily, so if things ended up harsher than forecast, we could escape to safety even in a blinding snowstorm. An additional important planning item was the fact that campfires are allowed at our destination, even though it is at fairly high elevation (above 10kft). This was important given the fact that the super high winds could potential make cooking with a gas stove difficult. Of course, a warm campfire also makes those cold days and nights more comfortable, too. Lee supervised a some fine-tuning in our cold weather gear and that contributed to our comfort. In addition, we packed a huge amount of snack food--this was as much as we'd normally take for a 5-6 day trip. The reason for this is that when one has to hunker down in a tent for a long time one either takes a nap or one munches; we did in fact do a lot of during-day snacking, in and out of the tent. Weird unseasonal weather commonly (in my experience) drastically changes fish behavior resulting in poor fishing or skunkage, so the main objective of this trip was in fact to enjoy the oddball 'foul weather' backpacking experience rather than fishing. This ended up being the most fun Dawn had had on a backpacking trip in a long time, so this goes down as one of my favorite trips with her to date.
The usual "non-disclosure" statement. Owing to the fishing Code of Silence and the fact that fish were in fact caught, the name of our destination will not be given. However, the photos and other information should make the destination fairly obvious.
Day Zero to Bridgeport, Thursday August 22. The day zero allows for an early start as well as a bit of altitude adjustment. We stayed at the Bodie Inn. This was a comfortable, cute, place, and the proprietor, Jeff, was really nice. We also exchanged some fishing information; that morning he had a large brookie experience at a lake I had never even considered as a candidate for large fish. In return, I gave him some suggestions on the top giant brookie lakes of the High Sierra. After checking in but before dinner, we headed next door to Big Meadow Brewing, where I grabbed a couple of pints of their pale ale and found, to my amusement, that Jeff was hanging out at the bar. His phone rang and he hustled out to check in more folks at the Bodie. Then I understood the little message on the front desk of the lobby with his number, which was something to the effect to call him and he'd be there in a minute.
Day One, Friday August 23.
We took our time getting going in the morning, in contrast to the early start we had from Lee Vining back at the end of June for our Thousand Island Lake trip. I'm not sure what Dawn had been doing for conditioning, outside of her home cardio/strength stuff she does, but she hiked strongly, even if short of her 2019-2023 peak form. The last part of the hike is the most demanding with 1400' of gain crammed into the last mile and half (less I suppose if one ascends more directly and steeply) of an 8.2-mile hike (total elevation gain is approximately 3000') and Dawn labored a bit, but not hugely, so we got to our destination a bit before 1 pm, a hiking time of a little less than 5 hours. This is my third time to this destination and that grueling climb is more or less off trail. Parts of the trail (the middle part) are in decent shape and not too difficult to follow, but other reaches, but the bottom and lower portions lack a clear track. The middle section also has some long switchbacks that are nice descending (easier on knees) but I prefer a more direct ascending path so I fine-tuned my lower/middle ascent route, building on the ascents I did with Dawn in 2019 and Lee in 2021 (very close to route I did with Lee but a bit nicer). Even the main trail in the valley has places where things get a bit confused in the vicinity of wash outs (lots of cattle and game paths make this worse) and on return (Sunday). I lost the trail in the same place in the sage brush I lost it with Lee in 2021 (recovered track without too much effort, though). The bottom line is that this is destination that requires topo map reading skills.
- Dawn early on day one. The scenery has the usual eastern Sierra touch but with the younger volcanic rocks that blend in the more northern Sierra character.
I wound up fishing from about 2 to 5 pm, using the wind direction to dictate my targets----Although the wind generally blew from the south making the south apex of the lake the most sheltered, later in the day a north wind became more common so I moved. By 5 pm the wind seemed to be swirling and constantly changing making it difficult to find a "hiding place" so I hustled back to camp. The first two hours went sort of as predicted. Zero fish, zero strikes, zero trailers and fish sighted, and three lures snagged and lost at the bottom. After moving north, I hooked and released a little 9-incher, by far the smallest fish I'd ever caught at this lake. A few casts later it appeared that I was snagged and likely to lose a 4th lure. I tightened my drag, walked one way along the shore and tugged--wouldn't budge. I walked the other way and tugged again. All the time I checked for signs of head shaking and saw none, I was clearly snagged. I tugged yet again and it came loose. I could feel that I hadn't lost my lure, too, but when I finished the retrieve, I noticed a fish eyeball on one of the Kastmaster hooks. Well, THAT was a surprise. Just before quitting I caught and released another 9-incher then caught and released a 6-incher.
Upon return to camp, I found Dawn relaxing around the campsite. I got the campfire going and in a hour or so had built up a good bed of coals to boil water over. My failure to catch a decent-sized fish led to Plan B for dinner. I also carry extra food to cover skunkage but for this trip we had more than usual, because meal planning was on the basis of skunkage being likely. We shared two full dehydrated backpacking meals. We found our cold weather gear kept us nice and comfortable, and Dawn enjoyed the experience. Our clothing scheme included base layers (top and bottom), with 5.11+ pants), hiking shirts (over base layer), North Face down jackets (heavy ones with hood), and waterproof/breathable shells over all. We also had additional fleece head covering (the kind where that covers everything except the face). In addition, her forgetting her reel made her fully realize that fishing is secondary for her; she just enjoys the total High Sierra experience. This helped her understand non-fishing High Sierra enthusiasts more, including folks like Todd, who was part of our 2020 and 2021 9-day trips.
- Dawn enjoys the campfire in the early evening the first blustery day. In conditions like this, having a campfire was important for comfort level as well as basic operations such as cooking in high wind.
Day Two, Saturday August 24.
The night was exciting and noisy what with the wind howling in the trees and these amazing gusts that sounded like jet engines and shook the tent with seismic intensity. But Dawn and I were quite comfortable in our tent--an REI Half Dome SL 3+. The rainfly zipped all the way down breaks the wind very nicely (top vents with "kickstand" closed too), so we didn't have wind ripping through the interior. I'm not sure when the snow began to fall but I could hear it; probably something like 2 am or so. As the sky lightened I could see the snow covering the fly--it would occasionally slough off . We awoke at a bit past 6 am, but it kept snowing so we stayed in the tent until after 7am when the snow eased up again. As expected, the snow exceeded the "little or no snow accumulation expected". Based on inspection of my cooking pot and cups, it appears accumulation was about 1.5-2 inches with much deeper drifts where gravity and/or wind enhanced this. Snow was piled to about 1 foot depth against the sides of our tent--this was the snow that had slid off of the roof. To the layered clothing theme of the previous day we added waterproof/breathable rain pants given that we would have a dry place to sit.
- Dawn emerges from tent into truly atypical late August High Sierra surroundings.
- This doesn't look like the summer High Sierra we know.
- Keeping the campfire going through the snowstorm helped with our comfort.
I didn't bother to attempt fishing until about 930 am. For the day I stayed close to camp, at times running down to the shore for a few casts while waiting for water to boil or for dehydrated food to reconstitute. Until early afternoon it was so cold that water beaded on my retrieving line froze in the lead line guides; I'd have to chip that out for best casting efficiency. I think it was about 945 am or so when I finally caught a good-sized fish, a 16" male golden. Dawn was with me, so she snapped some photos of me posing with the fish in the snow, as snow continued to fall. Now I had us covered for a "normal" dinner, figuring that the 16-incher could be our main course and we could have a dehydrated meal as our "side dish".
- Another scene we don't expect on August 24 in the High Sierra---a 16-inch golden in falling snow. Note the missing right glove was only temporary because I was about to "unslime it" after handling the fish.
Keeping fish fresh for hike out under these conditions was easier-than-usual. I gutted and cleaned fish immediately, then hung them from a tree branch. On Sunday, these were wrapped into the usual "fish towel" to pack out, then put into the cooler in my car to drive home. I ended up packing out 6 fish from 12 to 16" which is enough for two full dinners for our family of four.
Not long after the late morning session, the wind and snow became fierce enough to prompt us to head for the tent. Dawn requested I bring the map (Hoover Wilderness Tom Harrison), so we could discuss other potential trips as well as see the context of our location compared to other places we'd been on that map. As expected, we nibbled on lots of snack food---this sort of began as 'brunch' and evolved to lunch. The map reminded me that the two alternative targets for this trip---Evelyn Lake was one, and Return Lake was the other---would not have worked well for us because they were above the campfire elevation limit in Yosemite. Eventually, Dawn dozed off, and I crept out of the tent after about an hour and a half to maintain the fire a bit, then run off for a few casts here and there.
- Later Saturday afternoon, some of the snow that had melted earlier refroze as icicles.
Day 3. Sunday August 25.
After a long but comfortable night, we emerged to a "nearer to normal" morning, cold, windless and clear, much like a typical High Sierra morning in October. We had the usual hot breakfast and packed up on a relaxed schedule. Normally we might have stayed until noon or so to enjoy the milder weather, but since Dawn had forgotten her fishing gear she gave me a time limit which I abided with. I think we ended up beginning the hike out at about 1045 am. Because of my fish load, I was, as is common on my backpacking trips, carrying more than I packed in, so I was careful on the steeper parts of the initial descent. I recalled all too well when my right knee collapsed under one of the heaviest loads I'd ever carried here in 2021 with Lee (super heavy because of combined fish carry-out between the two of us). Dawn descended well and also did a good job path finding---she put me back on the faint track twice when I lost it for the section ("middle section") that we planned to be on it.
Once on the main trail, Dawn shifted into her "late to catch train" mode. Although we both sailed down the trail, I figured we shouldn't go too long without a break, otherwise we might cramp up later. I guessed she did not want to rest until the main stream crossing and before I could suggest stopping she said we should take a break there; we had been hiking for a bit less than 2 hours at that point. We then powered through the finish line, with the only glitch being that Dawn forgot our starting point (uncharacteristic for someone with such a photographic memory) so you could say she began her finishing kick about 1.5 miles too early. So she didn't end up "running through the tape", so to speak, but we got to the car in about 3 hrs and 25 min. This concluded one of the most enjoyable backpacking trips we'd ever been on. And, make no mistake, this would have in fact been fun with zero fish (even for me).
On the hike out we met the only people we saw in the backcountry during those three days. The first was a solo backpacker at the base of the final steep ascent. He had in fact seen the weather report and adjusted his entry day to Sunday. Down in the valley we met a couple also headed for the lake. They had in fact started hiking on Friday but in view of the weather camped in the valley for the two rough days then figured to head up to the lake on Sunday. Even at that elevation (below 9000) they said the weather was pretty harsh including some snow fall and ferocious winds, so they were interested in our account of how it played out up high. Later, closer to camp we met a couple of day hikers. Most folks are sensible and choose to avoid the sort of weather that Dawn chose to hike into. But, if one is adequately prepared, backpacking into such conditions can actually be fun for those of us who enjoy such things. And, speaking of different strokes for different folks, I was extra happy to be backpacking with Dawn, after finding out that I didn't enjoy solo backpacking a week before. I would not have enjoyed this trip solo.
Cheers, Ian.
) It was very cold, with a stiff wind. Wind chill of 30-degrees during the day, according to In-Reach forecast. Looks like you got the real thing with the snow depth shown in the photos. I was fine with my night-time 10-degree bag, but did not want to spend two days in Gardiner Basin in those conditions, so did a ccw Rae Lakes Loop instead. It was a pleasant 70-degrees down near Roads End. Normally it is a scorching 90-degree+ down there. The wind and cold did not last long. Perhaps I should have stuck it out and gone to Gardiner Basin.