TR: South Lake to North Lake BWO Ionian Basin, McGee Lakes,
Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2012 6:34 pm
Sorry, this is a little long....
Day 1 – July 22 –South Lake – Bishop Pass – Lower Dusy Basin
We woke early to poofy clouds over Bishop. Uh oh, that wasn’t in the forecast. Obviously the weather was changing. Coffee, breakfast, and a quick drive to South Lake. We hiked quickly up Bishop Pass. The clouds built, but we didn’t hear any thunder until we got over the pass.
Once over the pass, the rains started. No big deal at first, but eventually we got chased under the cover of trees to avoid the worst of the rain and hail. The second time we were chased under trees, we were met by The Nicest Rangers in the World. I think their names were Susan and Andrea. As we spoke, up came a spouse with a toddler in a pack on his back. The toddler informed us that we had to go down down down to lower Dusy Basin and now they were going UP to upper Dusy Basin. That kid was way cute.
We made it to lower Dusy Basin without getting soaked and found a nice site with a few bugs, the worst we would have all trip. We felt like we had lower Dusy Basin to ourselves.
Day 2 – July 23 – Lower Dusy Basin –LeConte Canyon – Helen Lake
The queen stage! We had some early showers, but nothing to get hung about. The route can best be described as way the heck down, then way the heck up, all on trail.
On the Muir Trail, people mostly were carrying full packs. The ultralight trend has perhaps passed. Most people were very friendly and engaged. This trip we met only a group of three that was the freak show that the Muir Trail can be: Three guys in running gear (Cleveland Marathon shirts), not really going that fast, not at all friendly, with ultralight packs, carrying in their arms their bear containers. Really? I guess if I want to do an endurance event, I’ll do the Death Ride or a marathon or a century or a dance marathon or watch every James Bond movie in a row. Why the hell is the Muir Trail seen by some as a forum for an endurance event? Maybe they should man up and do the RAAM or something like that. (Here ends the rant by a cranky old man.)
We rediscovered that the stretch between upper LeConte Canyon and Helen Lake is stark and rugged, a polite way of saying it was fugly. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t, but while we were there a big, cold wind came up, making things seem crappier than they really were. We found a nice spot near Helen Lake, and spent a windy night there.
Day 3 – July 24 – Helen Lake – Black Giant Pass – The Black Giant – Chasm Lake
We had a cold, breezy morning, but the clouds were gone. We figured our way up Black Giant Pass and dropped our packs. (When I get time, I’ll add to the cross country pass section details about the various passes we did beyond my usual complaining.) Up the Black Giant we went.
Can we talk? Secor is full of crap. There is no way the route he describes is Class 1. Crappy talus, hands needed for balance, kind of steep in parts; that’s not Class 1. Yet he calls McGee Lakes Pass Class 2, and that was easier! If you are heading up the Black Giant (and I do recommend that you do) go up the shallow gully where there is a base of damp gravel that is more firm than the loose dirt and rock to the sides, and/or get onto the hard rock spine to the left of that gully. The hard rock is a little more technical, but it doesn’t move under your feet. If there is snow on the main slope early season or after a heavy winter, that is probably the way to go. Once over the spines (false summit!) the slope flattens out some and is pretty darned fun to clamber up. Coming down is an exercise in riding the scree. If you don’t like route-finding on loose sand and rock, you won’t like this peak.
The views from the top of the Black Giant make the side trip worth it all.
From Black Giant Pass we could see dots moving around below us on Muir Pass. That would be the last we’d see of people for the next 24+ hours.
Coming down the south side of Black Giant Pass…oh, how should I put this? It sucked. There were three kinds of rock, scientifically known as white, black and orange. The white rock (aka, “granite”) was fine for traveling, as it breaks into boxy blocks that don’t move a whole lot. The black rock shattered into a shale-like talus and scree that wasn’t fun but was manageable. The orange rock came straight from hell to twist the ankles of passing travelers. It broke into shale and uneven blocks that moved unpredictably. And of course, any route down required going through said Satanic rock. Once down the main portion of the pass, you are rewarded with a low ridge of big blocks to traverse to get to Lake 11,828. And once at the lake, more boulder-hopping. Ah, yes, that was to become the theme for the day.
I thought it curious that Secor described Black Giant Pass beyond Lake 11,828. Now I understood that it was because once off what one would consider the pass, the fun had only begun. The ravine after Lake 11,828…oh, what’s that word again? It sucked.
All the way to Chasm Lake, you had big-time boulder-hopping descents, with meadows and lakes in between. We found that if you stay well to the right of the stream on the descent, you can hit some sloped meadows rather than acres of boulders. Some of those meadows were quite nice. And again, snow fields would probably be your friend.
We made it to Chasm Lake and found a campsite (a dry meadow spot on the first rise on the east side of the lake). A couple of skeeters came to keep us company, but we didn’t have to take action against them.
Chasm Lake was pretty cool. We hadn’t seen any use trails, and we hardly saw footprints at all. We think we had the east part of the Ionian Basin to ourselves.
Day 4 – July 25 – Chasm Lake – Lake 11,592 – Wanda Pass – Sapphire Lake
We headed up Chasm Lake’s main inlet stream. This was a pretty serious boulder-mess for about half the distance to Lake 11,592. We saw some tracks in the dirt to the east (to the climbers right), but that looked like people riding the scree to descend. It wasn’t going to work going up. Eventually we saw some meadowed benches on the west slope of the ravine. In a few steps we were in Beethovenian landscape (“Freude! Freude!”) after landscape and conditions worthy of Wagner (“Das Kaninchen töten!”). It was truly joyous walking the rest of the route to Lake 11,592…
…which is sorely misnamed. A lake like this deserved a better name than “Lake 11,592”. We now dub thee Lake Awesome.
A short stay for a snack at Lake Awesome was followed by some serious route-finding questions on Wanda Pass. The short story is that we targeted a talus chute on the right, but the better routes are ramps on the left. It’s some serious climbing, but all doable.
The north side of the pass was a long, ugly slog down broken blocks of granite. It reminded me of a badly carved mogul field, where it’s hard to make a good turn and you can’t get a rhythm going. And it was relentless. But we survived. There were snowfields to the west, but they looked thin; the consequence of punching through would be catastrophic. If there were large and deep snowfields, they would be the way to go.
Secor advises that once off the pass you travel on the west side of Wanda Lake, and other accounts I’ve read echo that. So, like sheep to be sheared (but why does the farmer have a knife this time?) we followed the virtual herd and went around the west side. Of course, we should have gone around the south side of lake after all. I realized all too late that the reason for the advice is that there is usually a nasty snowfield dropping to the lake that might be treacherous. But with a light winter, not so much. Oh, well. The west side of the lake was a couple of miles of boulder-hopping punctuated by some rough meadow.
Back to the Muir Trail, down to Sapphire Lake and a pleasant evening there with the hordes.
Day 5 – July 26 – Sapphire Lake – Evolution Lake – Colby Meadow – McGee Canyon – McGee Lakes Basin
After getting beaten to a pulp by the ins and outs of the Ionian Basin, we wanted to get our confidence back by doing something less challenging. So, we did a long open-jaw route to McGee Lakes Basin rather than go the direct route.
Down the Muir Trail we went. At Evolution Lake we ran into two fun guys on a day hike from their campsite near Colby Meadow, Sam and Leonard. We talked about our route, and they gave us info on their friend Dwight so that we could pretend to know him if we saw him. But we never saw this Dwight guy on our travels; so, we wonder if he’s real.
We hung out at Evolution Lake for a long snack, because when we had been there in past the conditions had sucked. Let’s enjoy it this time.
We dropped past the cut-off for Darwin Bench and met Ranger Dave on the trail. He marked up our map for our route up and out of McGee Canyon and over Lamarck Col. It was like getting a celebrity’s autograph.
In Evolution Valley we crossed the river at Colby Meadow. Next time we’ll cross much higher in the valley. We found the use trail, but struggled to follow it because it was overgrown and there many downed trees across the trail. If you do follow the use trail from Colby Meadow, note that there is a long period of traversing; if you go up too soon you wind up way too far west on a steep slope.
The trip was through some nice forest that then opened into a series of amazing meadows – we felt like we had entered a fairy tail and were waiting for Snow White to show up.
A few skeeters tried to join us along the way, but failed to inflict much misery. It was easy to lose the trail when going up; we heard later that going down is not such a problem. If you head up, at some point you need to cross over and stay on the east side of canyon. We saw few human footprints, but had some success following deer tracks instead. They knew where they were going.
We came out onto the first lake and took a long break. Nice basin!
We headed to the other lakes to find a campsite. There were quite a few at the second and third lakes. We thought we had the place to ourselves, but then ran into Sam and Leonard again who were fishing their way back to camp. We swapped info, then they headed down to Evolution Valley, leaving us in isolation. Yup, we pretty much had a few square miles all to our lonesome. Throw in a snake and some fruit trees and we could go all pre-fall on you.
Day 1 – July 22 –South Lake – Bishop Pass – Lower Dusy Basin
We woke early to poofy clouds over Bishop. Uh oh, that wasn’t in the forecast. Obviously the weather was changing. Coffee, breakfast, and a quick drive to South Lake. We hiked quickly up Bishop Pass. The clouds built, but we didn’t hear any thunder until we got over the pass.
Once over the pass, the rains started. No big deal at first, but eventually we got chased under the cover of trees to avoid the worst of the rain and hail. The second time we were chased under trees, we were met by The Nicest Rangers in the World. I think their names were Susan and Andrea. As we spoke, up came a spouse with a toddler in a pack on his back. The toddler informed us that we had to go down down down to lower Dusy Basin and now they were going UP to upper Dusy Basin. That kid was way cute.
We made it to lower Dusy Basin without getting soaked and found a nice site with a few bugs, the worst we would have all trip. We felt like we had lower Dusy Basin to ourselves.
Day 2 – July 23 – Lower Dusy Basin –LeConte Canyon – Helen Lake
The queen stage! We had some early showers, but nothing to get hung about. The route can best be described as way the heck down, then way the heck up, all on trail.
On the Muir Trail, people mostly were carrying full packs. The ultralight trend has perhaps passed. Most people were very friendly and engaged. This trip we met only a group of three that was the freak show that the Muir Trail can be: Three guys in running gear (Cleveland Marathon shirts), not really going that fast, not at all friendly, with ultralight packs, carrying in their arms their bear containers. Really? I guess if I want to do an endurance event, I’ll do the Death Ride or a marathon or a century or a dance marathon or watch every James Bond movie in a row. Why the hell is the Muir Trail seen by some as a forum for an endurance event? Maybe they should man up and do the RAAM or something like that. (Here ends the rant by a cranky old man.)
We rediscovered that the stretch between upper LeConte Canyon and Helen Lake is stark and rugged, a polite way of saying it was fugly. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t, but while we were there a big, cold wind came up, making things seem crappier than they really were. We found a nice spot near Helen Lake, and spent a windy night there.
Day 3 – July 24 – Helen Lake – Black Giant Pass – The Black Giant – Chasm Lake
We had a cold, breezy morning, but the clouds were gone. We figured our way up Black Giant Pass and dropped our packs. (When I get time, I’ll add to the cross country pass section details about the various passes we did beyond my usual complaining.) Up the Black Giant we went.
Can we talk? Secor is full of crap. There is no way the route he describes is Class 1. Crappy talus, hands needed for balance, kind of steep in parts; that’s not Class 1. Yet he calls McGee Lakes Pass Class 2, and that was easier! If you are heading up the Black Giant (and I do recommend that you do) go up the shallow gully where there is a base of damp gravel that is more firm than the loose dirt and rock to the sides, and/or get onto the hard rock spine to the left of that gully. The hard rock is a little more technical, but it doesn’t move under your feet. If there is snow on the main slope early season or after a heavy winter, that is probably the way to go. Once over the spines (false summit!) the slope flattens out some and is pretty darned fun to clamber up. Coming down is an exercise in riding the scree. If you don’t like route-finding on loose sand and rock, you won’t like this peak.
The views from the top of the Black Giant make the side trip worth it all.
From Black Giant Pass we could see dots moving around below us on Muir Pass. That would be the last we’d see of people for the next 24+ hours.
Coming down the south side of Black Giant Pass…oh, how should I put this? It sucked. There were three kinds of rock, scientifically known as white, black and orange. The white rock (aka, “granite”) was fine for traveling, as it breaks into boxy blocks that don’t move a whole lot. The black rock shattered into a shale-like talus and scree that wasn’t fun but was manageable. The orange rock came straight from hell to twist the ankles of passing travelers. It broke into shale and uneven blocks that moved unpredictably. And of course, any route down required going through said Satanic rock. Once down the main portion of the pass, you are rewarded with a low ridge of big blocks to traverse to get to Lake 11,828. And once at the lake, more boulder-hopping. Ah, yes, that was to become the theme for the day.
I thought it curious that Secor described Black Giant Pass beyond Lake 11,828. Now I understood that it was because once off what one would consider the pass, the fun had only begun. The ravine after Lake 11,828…oh, what’s that word again? It sucked.
All the way to Chasm Lake, you had big-time boulder-hopping descents, with meadows and lakes in between. We found that if you stay well to the right of the stream on the descent, you can hit some sloped meadows rather than acres of boulders. Some of those meadows were quite nice. And again, snow fields would probably be your friend.
We made it to Chasm Lake and found a campsite (a dry meadow spot on the first rise on the east side of the lake). A couple of skeeters came to keep us company, but we didn’t have to take action against them.
Chasm Lake was pretty cool. We hadn’t seen any use trails, and we hardly saw footprints at all. We think we had the east part of the Ionian Basin to ourselves.
Day 4 – July 25 – Chasm Lake – Lake 11,592 – Wanda Pass – Sapphire Lake
We headed up Chasm Lake’s main inlet stream. This was a pretty serious boulder-mess for about half the distance to Lake 11,592. We saw some tracks in the dirt to the east (to the climbers right), but that looked like people riding the scree to descend. It wasn’t going to work going up. Eventually we saw some meadowed benches on the west slope of the ravine. In a few steps we were in Beethovenian landscape (“Freude! Freude!”) after landscape and conditions worthy of Wagner (“Das Kaninchen töten!”). It was truly joyous walking the rest of the route to Lake 11,592…
…which is sorely misnamed. A lake like this deserved a better name than “Lake 11,592”. We now dub thee Lake Awesome.
A short stay for a snack at Lake Awesome was followed by some serious route-finding questions on Wanda Pass. The short story is that we targeted a talus chute on the right, but the better routes are ramps on the left. It’s some serious climbing, but all doable.
The north side of the pass was a long, ugly slog down broken blocks of granite. It reminded me of a badly carved mogul field, where it’s hard to make a good turn and you can’t get a rhythm going. And it was relentless. But we survived. There were snowfields to the west, but they looked thin; the consequence of punching through would be catastrophic. If there were large and deep snowfields, they would be the way to go.
Secor advises that once off the pass you travel on the west side of Wanda Lake, and other accounts I’ve read echo that. So, like sheep to be sheared (but why does the farmer have a knife this time?) we followed the virtual herd and went around the west side. Of course, we should have gone around the south side of lake after all. I realized all too late that the reason for the advice is that there is usually a nasty snowfield dropping to the lake that might be treacherous. But with a light winter, not so much. Oh, well. The west side of the lake was a couple of miles of boulder-hopping punctuated by some rough meadow.
Back to the Muir Trail, down to Sapphire Lake and a pleasant evening there with the hordes.
Day 5 – July 26 – Sapphire Lake – Evolution Lake – Colby Meadow – McGee Canyon – McGee Lakes Basin
After getting beaten to a pulp by the ins and outs of the Ionian Basin, we wanted to get our confidence back by doing something less challenging. So, we did a long open-jaw route to McGee Lakes Basin rather than go the direct route.
Down the Muir Trail we went. At Evolution Lake we ran into two fun guys on a day hike from their campsite near Colby Meadow, Sam and Leonard. We talked about our route, and they gave us info on their friend Dwight so that we could pretend to know him if we saw him. But we never saw this Dwight guy on our travels; so, we wonder if he’s real.
We hung out at Evolution Lake for a long snack, because when we had been there in past the conditions had sucked. Let’s enjoy it this time.
We dropped past the cut-off for Darwin Bench and met Ranger Dave on the trail. He marked up our map for our route up and out of McGee Canyon and over Lamarck Col. It was like getting a celebrity’s autograph.
In Evolution Valley we crossed the river at Colby Meadow. Next time we’ll cross much higher in the valley. We found the use trail, but struggled to follow it because it was overgrown and there many downed trees across the trail. If you do follow the use trail from Colby Meadow, note that there is a long period of traversing; if you go up too soon you wind up way too far west on a steep slope.
The trip was through some nice forest that then opened into a series of amazing meadows – we felt like we had entered a fairy tail and were waiting for Snow White to show up.
A few skeeters tried to join us along the way, but failed to inflict much misery. It was easy to lose the trail when going up; we heard later that going down is not such a problem. If you head up, at some point you need to cross over and stay on the east side of canyon. We saw few human footprints, but had some success following deer tracks instead. They knew where they were going.
We came out onto the first lake and took a long break. Nice basin!
We headed to the other lakes to find a campsite. There were quite a few at the second and third lakes. We thought we had the place to ourselves, but then ran into Sam and Leonard again who were fishing their way back to camp. We swapped info, then they headed down to Evolution Valley, leaving us in isolation. Yup, we pretty much had a few square miles all to our lonesome. Throw in a snake and some fruit trees and we could go all pre-fall on you.