High Sierra Topix

My buddy, Andy, and I had eyed this segment of Roper’s Sierra High Route for some time. Despite my gripes and suspicion of recreation.gov , we managed to get the permit we needed for the date of entry we wanted. I still think the permit system is corrupt and prone to exploitation in its current form, but that’s a well-engaged thread located elsewhere on HST. Note that I didn’t record my tracks on this trip report, so I cannot state exact mileages, only estimates.


Part 1: North Lake to Hilgard Branch


Day 1 (July 9, 2024) - Piute Pass to Piute Lake

While my moniker might make you think I’m a Bishop local, I actually live near Boulder, CO (my HST handle was inspired by the alliteration of TehepiteTom). As such, I needed to travel quite some distance to the Eastern Sierra to start this trip. I like to drive this route, but I don’t like to put these kinds of miles on my own car (especially through Death Valley in the summer), and rental car prices weren’t where I wanted them to be. So my day began at home, where I needed to wake at 3AM to catch the bus to the Denver airport. I boarded the early flight to Las Vegas, where I met Andy, who was coming from Inidana. We rented a car one-way to Bishop, where we bought a couple of supplies and returned the rental car. We had arranged a ride from a Bishop local, who dropped us off at the Piute Pass TH at 5:45 in the afternoon. There was enough daylight left for us to walk at a leisurely pace up to Piute Lake. We found an established site between the lake and trail, set up camp, and ate dinner. I had an unexpectedly good night’s sleep, which was a pattern that would continue throughout this trip.


Day 2 (July 10, 2024) - Piute Lake to Merriam Lake

We had clear skies all day, and it was pretty darn hot. We left Piute Lake shortly after 8AM and headed for Humphreys Basin. At the pass, we chatted with a couple of ladies who were armed with ice axes and heading to Packsaddle Pass. Intrigued, I made a mental note to put that pass on my list for potential future trips. We ambled down the Piute Pass trail into Humphreys Basin, still keeping an easy pace, until reaching a point where we left the trail and angled northward toward Mesa Lake.

Easy cross-country walking brought us to Mesa, the western shore of which we navigated around until reaching a chute leading up to what became the springboard to Puppet Pass. A short anaerobic effort was followed by a more gentle final approach to this pass, where we drank in the views all around, including the evening objective, Merriam Lake. A brief break to eat a snack was followed by the descent down talus on the north side of Puppet, which gave way to another long stretch of easy cross-country walking past the French-themed lakes in this area. Near the western edge of Elba, we had a choice: do we continue along the planned route that heads due north through the forested slope leading to Piute Creek, or do we take the circuitous use-trail that joins the Piute Pass trail? We opted for the former and were glad we did. It was relatively easy, and the creek crossing was no sweat, as there was a series of rocks that allowed us to make it to the other side without getting wet. From there, we walked a couple of miles down French Canyon until reaching the signed but unmaintained trail up to Merriam Lake. That’s where the hard work for the day began.

The trail up to Merriam Lake is marginal and steep. It was the afternoon, and it was hot. As much as I fear being cold, I’ve learned over the years that I suffer in the heat. Consequently, though I maintained a slow pace the entire distance to the lake, I was almost blown when I reached it. Not so deep to have bonked, but pretty much pooped. Still, I had enough scruples to help find a campsite, gather water, and cook my dinner, which I managed to finish entirely even though I had no appetite. All things considered, I was feeling pretty confident about my physical condition, and I looked forward to the next day.


Day 3 (July 11, 2024) - Merriam Lake to Hilgard Branch

I felt rejuvenated upon waking and devoured my breakfast before packing up camp to head to Feather Pass. We walked toward the inlet that comes rushing down a steep slope before it spills into the northern end of Merriam Lake. We ascended the grassier side of the inlet, which levels off before reaching the southern end of a short series of lakes that would direct us toward Feather Pass.


At La Salle Lake, we picked a chute and made our way to the base of the final slope up to the pass.


The view into Bear Lakes Basin upon reaching the top was fantastic. It was here, however, that I saw a few puffy clouds crossing the sky, which made me think we’d see rain at some point during our trip.


We made our way down typical talus on the north side of the pass and ambled down to Bearpaw Lake. Angling around the northeastern shore, we quickly found ourselves at Ursa Lake, which looked to be level with and connected to Bearpaw.


Following guidance (on HST, I think), we climbed the grassy chute located about 50 yards east of the rock wall that blocked further progress around the north shore of Ursa. This chute led us right up to Black Bear Lake, where we took a break for snacks and eyed what looked to be Granite Bear Pass - I made a mental note to explore that route some day. From Black Bear, we again followed HST guidance for how to reach White Bear Pass.


Since White Bear Pass was not much higher than the elevation of Black Bear Lake, it was pretty easy travel, and we reached the pass in maybe 30 minutes after leaving our lunch spot. The only tricky bit was the cornice on the east side of the pass, but it was easily avoided, and we soon found ourselves looking down the talus-coated western face of White Bear Pass.


Once again, we leaned on HST advice and aimed for the “Willows” on the north side of the route heading down from White Bear Pass. It wasn’t really any more tedious than the descent of many other passes, though we did notice a higher frequency of loose rocks that needed attention.


Upon reaching Brown Bear Lake and then Teddy Bear Lake, we discovered that the isthmus connecting these 2 bodies of water housed a couple of tents that seemed unoccupied at the moment.


At this point, we were thinking of stopping for the day, so we ambled down the gentle slope from Teddy Bear toward Hilgard Branch, which flows out of Lake Italy. Almost immediately, we found what proved to be a bomber campsite, my favorite of the trip, located a short walk to the creek. We stopped early enough in the day that we had plenty of time to rest and set up camp and then spend some time dipping ourselves into the creek.


We soon met our landlord - a marmot who was unafraid to inform us whose campsite it really was. We were scrupulous enough not to have lost anything to this character. As the sun was dipping, we also saw a three-legged coyote trot-hopping along, and it occurred to me that I rarely have seen coyotes in the regions of the Sierra I frequent.

Part 2: Hilgard Branch to Mammoth

Day 4 (July 12, 2024) - Hilgard Branch to Mono Creek

I always sleep great near a roaring creek. Upon waking, I saw clouds already in the sky, which was what I expected, based on the appearance of clouds around noon the day before. As such, I figured we’d have rain during the day, which proved to be the case.

We packed up and headed toward Lake Italy along the use-trail. At the outlet, we crossed over to walk the north shore of the lake, which was an easy stroll, albeit a long one – Lake Italy is relativey large. After finally reaching it’s eastern tip, we angled upward toward Gabbot Pass. We plodded along, picking our way up/over/around the talus on the south face, until coming to a false summit. The pass was further north than I thought, but it wasn’t difficult to reach, and we were soon taking a break and enjoying the views from the summit. Looking down into Second Recess, we pondered the effort that was to come.


Our immediate concern was the snowfield just below the pass. We could definitely bypass the snow because it was flanked by dry talus, but we needed to justify bringing microspikes. Cruising down the snowfield was much quicker than negotiating talus, and we shortly found ourselves above Upper Mills Creek Lake. By this point, a walkable tract of snow was unavailable, and anyway it was a steeper descent down to the lake. Getting there was more tedious than I expected, and once at the lake, I looked back south at the face of that descent and considered how intimidated I would feel if traveling in the other direction (south) toward the pass.


From Upper Mills Creek Lake, we made our way across relatively easier terrain (and another descent) to Lower Mills Creek Lake. In my original trip plan, I had thought we’d stop here for the day because I had expected the ascent of Gabbot Pass to require more time and effort. But it was only around noon, so it made more sense to push onward. How much further was in question because I didn’t want to out-pace our route plan by too much and end up exiting the mountains a day early. This concern was nullified by the next mile of travel through the thicket that lies between Lower Mills Creek Lake and the south end (as mapped) of Mills Creek (use) Trail. What a bear this short section proved to be, at least mentally. Micro-route finding down chutes, across streams, and through bushes and deadfall. Every time we picked a direction to travel, there was an obstacle - each one alone wasn’t difficult, but in the aggregate, they wore us down. By comparison, the use-trail, once we finally reached it, seemed like a superhighway.

Where the use-trail met Mono Creek, we crept downstream and then upstream looking for a place to cross, eventually agreeing on a location that lacked rapids and was shallow enough to see the rock bed below. The flow was swift, nonetheless, and the waterline reached my lower thigh (I’m 6’2”), so the crossing took all my focus to stay upright. Reaching the north shore of the creek, we were mentally drained and decided to find a place to camp along the Mono Creek trail. Since we had planned to go up Laurel Creek trail the next day, we headed east but found nowhere along the way that was an obvious site to camp. My friend noticed a possibility just a few yards west of the Laurel Creek trail junction, about 50 yards or so and up the mountain slope. It had traces of stock poop, old and fresh, so it had clearly been used by others, but there were really only a couple of small flat-ish spots on this otherwise sloping landscape. With the creek as a water source nearby, we set up for the evening. It was at this moment I realized I must’ve turned my ankle because it was quite sore when I angled my foot inward. I popped a couple of NSAID pills and hit the sack.

Day 5 (July 13, 2024) - Mono Creek to Tully Lake

I had another surprisingly good sleep. Equally surprising, my ankle felt normal. We packed up and headed toward Laurel Lake, which we had visited a few years ago. After a short set of steep switchbacks, the use-trail leading up from Mono Creek adopted a much more gradual rise and seemed more visible compared to the last time we had traveled this route. Clouds were early again and were thicker than the day before. In fact, there was a mass of grey looking back toward the southwest, but at the moment, it was dry as we ascended to Laurel Lake. Upon reaching this lake, we had a decision: go over Bighorn Pass and then Shout-of-Relief Pass, which we had traveled a few years ago, or tackle Red and White Pass, which would be new to us.


We opted for Red and White Pass, so we headed up a grassy chute in the general direction toward the slope north of Grinnell Lake. Though steep, the hiking was not difficult.


When we reached Little Grinnell Lake, we filled our water bottles and evaluated the snow-bound final slope. Once again, it gave us an opportunity to validate our decision to bring microspikes. The snow could’ve actually been avoided, but I like to think we saved time and effort going straight up the snow to the summit of the pass.


At Red and White Pass, we were greeted with another snowbound slope heading down the north side of the pass. Re-donning our spikes, we took only a few steps before my buddy plopped onto his fanny (intentionally) and slid down most the way. I followed suit, and just like that, we were down to a point where we needed to angle around the southeastern side of the lake. This section was the trickiest route-finding of the trip, and we almost irreversibly cliffed ourselves out. We learned that we needed to stay a little high to reach a chute that would take us down to a point where we could cross over to the grassier eastern side of the lake.


From here, it was cake getting to the outlet en route to Tully Lake, which we had decided would be our stopping point for the day. However, the clouds grew thicker and thunder rumbled, which lit a fire under our behinds. Just as we reached the northeastern shore of Tully, the raindrops began softly. We felt a new sense of urgency but saw nothing suitable at the moment. We curled swiftly along the north shore until I spied a conspicuous cluster of trees up a slight rise, located near the tip of the use-trail that comes up from McGee Pass Trail. Just as we finished setting up shelters, a downpour began and didn’t stop for the next 2 hours. After it cleared, we cooked dinner and turned in for the night.


Day 6 (July 14, 2024) - Tully Lake to Barney Lake

Another great night of sleep. We thought about sticking off-trail with the SHR from Tully to Horse Heaven via Lake Izaak Walton, but we’d been that way before. McGee Pass Trail was steps away from our campsite, so we cruised along its path down to Tully Hole, up to Virginia Lake, then Purple Lake, followed by Duck Lake. By the time we reached Duck Pass, it was about 4PM. The trailhead at Coldwater campground was our end point, but we didn’t want to exit the mountains just yet, so we stopped at Barney Lake and set up camp on the peninsula, which has plenty of established sites and great views. However, the water in the lake was pretty crappy with algae, so we collected from the outlet. We made dinner, then sat around a bit musing about our trip before settling into our shelters for the night.


Day 7 (July 15, 2024) - Barney Lake to Coldwater Campground/Mammoth Lakes

Last day and a short distance downhill to the trailhead and back to urban life. As we walked, the smell of clean bodies and perfume of hikers coming up trail was a familiar sign of re-entering daily life. I was eager to have a meal and a beer but sad to be leaving the wilderness. We walked down to Lake Mary Road and caught the Mammoth Trolley to town and Mammoth Brewery. Afterward, we caught the ESTA bus to Bishop, where we picked up another one-way rental car and stayed in a hotel for the night. The next morning, we got some Looney Bean coffee before hitting the road back to Las Vegas for our flights home. Till next time….

Thanks for the nice report and photos. The hut you saw is used by snow surveyors.
Did you have any theories on the "artifacts" you found?

Scenery wise it looks like perfect conditions- a bit of snow and lush greenery.

In 2010 I did the entire High Route in 31 days which must have been the slowest on record! My husband joined me on this middle section. His main goal was fishing. We took 11 days to do 58 miles, stopping early to fish every day. We went over Rohn Pass to get to Tully Lake. It is a wonderful route. We continued from Duck Pass to Deer Lake. The next day Dave dropped to George Lake to make arrangements in Mammoth for a hotel and I continued to Devil's Postpile Reds Meadow and took the bus to Mammoth. Your trip report brought back lots of memories.

Are you thinking of doing the entire route in one trip, in the future?

Hi, I would like to ask if I can do a similar trip during this time and what preparations should I take note of?

Neat trip and report. Although a segment of the SHR for some reason going North Lake to Mammoth never occurred to me. One of the neat things about your report is that it shows how this route can connect some areas that are far flung enough that we might not normally think of doing them in 7-day trip, with a reasonable amount of hiking per day. I guess my mind had thought North Lake to Mammoth would take longer, but reading your report got me daydreaming of variations (detours and layovers) for a 10-day trip that would allow me to fish my favorite fishing lakes in this geographic corridor. Of course, I like the photos, too, especially the alpenglow at Tully one.

Thanks for the great report.

That looks like an awesome trip, I appreciate the photos and details which made it easy to follow along on Caltopo.

If you don't mind me asking, how much did the rentals cost? I've always flown into Vegas, got the cheapest rental possible and then left the rental at the trailhead.

Thanks for the report and photos! Count me in as also curious to know if the cost of the two one-way rentals was lower than getting one rental (assuming you'd incur the same shuttle service cost if doing a shuttle route). I'm in CA but my household only has one car, so when I do solo trips I get a cheap rental from OAK and then leave it at the trailhead like wsp_scott. This works out to around $50/day.

paul wrote: ↑Sat Sep 07, 2024 2:54 pm Thanks for the nice report and photos. The hut you saw is used by snow surveyors.
Did you have any theories on the "artifacts" you found?

One of the items we found had leather straps connected to a board of some sort, which made us think it was for hauling stuff. It didn't seem big enough to fit a mule, though it could be we found only a fragment. The long corkscrew thingie - I dunno. The chute where these things were located was quite steep and narrow. Maybe they had been used there or maybe they had had spilled down from the slope above (we, of course, left them where we found them). Based on the rusted iron and decay of the wood and leather straps, I suspect they date from the early 20th century or maybe earlier.