THE JOHN MUIR TRAIL
PART FIVE: KINGS
CANYON NATIONAL PARK
Muir Trail Ranch to Forrester Pass
The
next segment of our trip took us from Muir Trail Ranch through Kings Canyon
National Park to the border of Sequoia National Park at Forrester Pass. This was probably the most challenging part
of the entire trip, as we had to start out from Muir Trail Ranch with heavy
packs due to carrying ten days worth of food.
We spent 7 1/2 days hiking 80 miles in Kings Canyon, leaving us with 2
1/2 days and 31 miles to go in Sequoia National Park.
MOONDANCE / FAIRIES ON THE WATER
I
woke to the pitter patter of rain on my tent fly again the next morning. Sigh. The
wet weather made us lazy, and we got a later start than normal. The rain finally stopped at 7:15, and we took
our time making breakfast and drying our gear.
With those delays, we didn’t even get on the trail until 9:45. We followed it to the Silver Bridge, where we
crossed over lovely Paiute Creek and into Kings Canyon National Park. From there, we hiked up into a rocky, open
canyon along the roaring South Fork of the San Joaquin River. As we walked, we passed some impressive
cascades below soaring cliffs.
A
bit later, we crossed the river on a high, sturdy bridge. Farther on, we stopped at a tributary stream
for lunch. Molly and Rosa caught up to
us there, but decided to continue on. A
friend of Molly’s was working with a trail crew nearby, and she was in charge
of their food. She had promised Molly
and Rosa a free lunch, and they weren’t about to pass that up.
After
lunch, we continued upstream, before crossing the river again on a wooden
bridge. We passed a final campsite, and
began a steep climb along cascading Evolution Creek. Our goal was to reach the hanging valley
above, but the climb was a grunt with heavy packs. Part of the way up, I caught a glimpse of an
impressive waterfall away from the trail.
I couldn’t resist the temptation to drop my pack for a closer look. I hiked down closer to the creek, and was
rewarded with a nice view of a lovely triple falls. In most places, this waterfall would’ve been
a major attraction. Here, amid the vast
splendor of the Sierras, it isn’t even named!
We
resumed the hike, and climbed to the mouth of the hanging valley. The grade finally eased there, and the trail
led us to the most difficult stream crossing of the entire trip. The ford of Evolution Creek is infamous for being
long, deep, and potentially dangerous in high water. When we reached the creek, we met a group of
hikers that had just crossed from the other side. They hadn’t had any problems, which was
encouraging. Bob went across first, and
I followed. The water was nearly waist
deep, but the current was gentle. On the
other hand, it was extremely cold!
Reaching the far shore was quite a relief. I was particularly glad when my testicles re-descended
later that evening.
Beyond
the ford, we managed a tricky rock hop of a tributary. Shortly thereafter, we reached the edge of
McClure Meadow. We found a spectacular
campsite here, a short distance from Evolution Creek. From the site, we had a dramatic view up the
valley to the peaks surrounding Evolution Basin, including Mount Mendel, Mount
Darwin, and Mount Spencer. It was only
4:30, but there was no way we could pass this site up! A few rumbles of thunder convinced us to
stay. We managed to get camp set up and
do some laundry before the next storm struck.
The rain didn’t last long, but it eliminated any hope of our clothes
drying by the next morning.
The
weather cleared that evening, and I dined on ham and mac
‘n’ cheese for dinner. Meanwhile, Bob
ate his first of many freeze dried dinners.
We spent the evening hours enjoying the view from camp while watching dozens
of trout jump a mere arms-length away. That
evening, we were treated to breathtaking alpenglow on the high peaks
surrounding the valley. Later, an
amazing full moon rose above the peaks at the head of the valley. The moonlight reflected off the water, its
sparkling light dancing like fairies in the shadows of the night.
DO THE EVOLUTION
We
were up at 6 the next morning in anticipation of a big day. We had cold cereal for breakfast, which was
slightly disappointing given the chilly morning. On the upside, the granola cereal was
exceptionally easy to prepare. We had
each meal in a ziplock bag, along with powdered
milk. Making breakfast only required
adding water to the bag. With no cooking
or cleaning, we were able to break camp much earlier than after a standard
oatmeal breakfast. Plus, we quickly
discovered that the granola cereal gave us a lot more energy than oatmeal. On our oatmeal mornings, we typically stopped
for a snack after a couple of miles.
This wasn’t the case with the granola, as it often kept us going until
lunchtime.
We
were on the trail by 7:30, and got a nice warm up hike to Colby Meadow. On the way, I was subjected to a hideous
fashion statement by Bob. He had washed
most of his clothes the previous afternoon, and they were all still damp in the
morning. He hiked out of McClure Meadow
wearing a bizarre combination of long underwear and rain gear. Meanwhile, his wet pants and other clothes
were strapped to the outside of his pack.
I was only a little embarrassed when we passed other hikers.
We
passed a pair of deer before we began the climb out of Evolution Valley. We managed a tricky rock hop of Darwin Creek,
and began another demanding climb. The
grunt ended at a bench, and gentle hiking through subalpine country brought us
to Evolution Lake. This area was
beautiful, but it would only get better!
We hiked around Evolution Lake before climbing beyond the last of the
trees above Sapphire Lake. From here, we
wandered from one alpine tarn to another, under the gaze of dozens of soaring,
jagged peaks. We reached a series of
tarns below Wanda Lake and paused there for lunch in the sunshine. After eating, we took a bit of time to bathe
and wash our hair using my collapsible bucket.
Originally
I had planned for a short day ending at Sapphire Lake. We had reached that spot before noon though,
and had decided to press on. Now we were
well above treeline, past most of the likely campsites. By passing Sapphire Lake, we were largely
committed to hiking beyond Muir Pass, which was still
several miles away.
After
lunch we made a long but easy rock hop of Wanda Lake’s outlet stream before
climbing to Wanda Lake. The scenery here
was exceptional, even against the standards of the rest of JMT. The country was vast and open, with nothing
but snow, rock, and water in every direction.
We passed Wanda Lake, and enjoyed breathtaking views of the glaciers on
Mount Solomons and the Goddard Divide. From here, we began the final hump towards
the crest of Muir Pass. The views of
Evolution Basin behind us provided inspiration, and we reached Muir Pass around
3pm. There is an emergency stone shelter
at the pass, and we stopped there for a break.
Inside, we found a family of marmots living in the fireplace and
chimney. They were very tame, but we had
to guard our food closely.
We
didn’t linger long at the pass, thanks to building clouds. We began the descent of the far side as
thunder began rumbling behind us. The
next stretch of trail proved to be one of the hardest parts of the whole
trip. We descended steeply through snow,
water, rocks, and mud. There were a
couple of tricky creek crossings, and the snow and boulders made for difficult
footing. The worst part of the hike was
through a nasty, rocky gully. Ultimately,
the descent from the pass proved to be more difficult than the climb! To make matters worse, there weren’t any
reasonable camping options, and we were forced to hike on beyond the point of
exhaustion. Well after we passed Helen
Lake, we passed a group heading up. They
asked us if there were any campsites ahead, and we warned them that they would
probably have to hike well beyond Muir Pass.
Despite our warning, they continued on.
Luckily
for us, the afternoon thunderstorms moved away from us, and we dodged another
day of rain. We hiked on down below
treeline, before we finally found a nice campsite on a bench a bit before Starr
Camp. From this spot, we had a nice view
of a cascading waterfall on the Middle Fork of the Kings River. When we arrived, we spotted a pair of deer
grazing on the hillside below the falls.
This was a really nice spot to spend the evening, as the sound of the
waterfall was soothing. It may have been
a better spot than we deserved, as we were so exhausted we would’ve happily
settled for a less appealing site! We
fed on freeze dried dinners that night, and fatigue drove us to bed early.
ONE STEP CLOSER
I
woke up sore the next morning. I was
still exhausted, too, despite getting ten hours of sleep. As a result, I spent most of the day in the
wrong frame of mind. As I plodded down
the trail, my mind cycled through an endless series of negative thoughts. I fantasized about all of the wonderful foods
I didn’t have access to, like pizza, and cheeseburgers, and French fries, and
beer, and even fresh vegetables. I
focused on the heat, and my aching legs, and my suddenly upset stomach. I dwelled on being home sick; missing my
wife, my stereo, and my dog. And for the
first time all trip, I began to think about getting to the end. For a day, I abandoned my normal mantra of
living in the moment and enjoying what was in front of me.
This
isn’t to say that there weren’t any highlights along this stretch of
trail. We enjoyed many fine views of LeConte Canyon, particularly from Little Pete Meadow and
Big Pete Meadow. Grouse Meadows provided
a scenic and sunny spot for lunch.
Believe it or not, we even saw a family of grouse there. Despite those highlights, and a pleasant
sunny day, negativity ruled my mind. By
the time we started up the trail along Palisades Creek, I’d had enough. Unfortunately, the trail leading to Deer
Meadows proved to be a bitch. Most of
the JMT had been in great shape, but not this part. Fallen trees blocked the trail in many
places, and on a couple of occasions we had to bushwhack well off the trail to
get through. This would’ve been tedious
if our legs had been fresh. On this day,
it was awful. It was a huge relief to
collapse into camp near Deer Meadows.
This left us at the base of the Golden Staircase, which might be the
JMT’s most notorious climb.
Rather
than providing a more detailed account of the days hike, I’ll leave you with
the words to a song that was running through my mind all day. It really seems to reflect my mentality from
that day. I’m dedicating this to my
wife, Christy, who I missed more than anything.
Even Cheeseburgers.
“When the sunlight
hits the top of the ridge
and the day is winding down
I’ll be rolling on back to your arms
I’ll be coming 'round
when the sun goes down
they say the darkest hour is right before dawn
I’ve lived to find that is true
but somehow it don’t seem so bad
now that I’ve found you
now that I found you
I’m one step closer
your love is coming into view
I’m one step closer to heaven
one step closer to you
we went down to the river’s edge
and we walked along the sand
laid down in its shadowy bed
the water rushed past our heads
I thought of something you said
and that brought me back to a high mountain lake
in the west where I first met you
now all around walls are coming down
our love still stands true
our love is still standing
I’m one step closer
your love is coming into view
I’m one step closer to heaven
one step closer to you”
From “One Step Closer”, by The
String Cheese Incident
THE GOLDEN STAIRCASE
I
felt much better the next morning, after an afternoon of relaxation and a
decent night’s sleep. It was a good
thing, too, because we were facing one of the toughest days of the whole trip. First we’d have to climb 1800’ up the Golden
Staircase to Lower Palisade Lake. We’d
get a brief reprieve there, before another 1200’ climb to Mather Pass.
We
had cold cereal for breakfast and got on the trail by 7:20. The beginning of the hike was tedious, as we
slogged through a wet, buggy jungle.
This area is called Deer Meadow, but I have no idea why. We passed through many nice meadows along the
JMT, but this wasn’t one of them.
We
rock hopped braided Glacier Creek and passed two decent campsites before
beginning the climb. As we emerged from
the woods, the view of the climb ahead was obscured by the brilliant rays of
the rising sun. This may have been a
mercy, as sometimes it’s better to just stare at your feet and plod along. The lower part of the climb was overgrown in
places, but this eventually gave way to an incredible section of trail carved
out of the granite cliffs. When viewed
from a distance, this stretch of trail must look improbable, if not downright
impossible. The engineering that was required
to create this route is staggering. It
truly was a testament to the power of man – and dynamite. I’m glad this trail is here now, because a
path like this would never be built in this day and age.
We
were treated to nearly constant views of the valley behind us as we hiked. The climb really wasn’t as bad as
anticipated. Camping near Deer Meadows
proved to be wise strategy, as it allowed us to tackle the Golden Staircase in
the cool morning air, when our legs were reasonably fresh.
We
reached Lower Palisade Lake in time for a mid-morning break. The view here was fantastic as we gazed
across the lake towards the towering peaks of the Palisades. Over the course of the trip, only the Ritter
Range matched the Palisades in beauty to me.
Those peaks along the Sierra Crest seem to pierce the sky. Even after hiking uphill all morning, we had
to crane our necks to view them.
After
a lengthy break, we enjoyed a gentle stroll around Lower Palisade Lake. Another climb followed, and we ended up
hiking well above Upper Palisade Lake.
From there, we endured another rocky climb to Mather Pass. This one seemed eternal, even though it was
less of a climb than the Golden Staircase.
No doubt the staircase took a lot out of us, leaving us a bit short of
energy for the final push to the top. We
probably should’ve stopped for lunch, or at least a break, but I was eager to
reach the crest. Fortunately, the
constant views of the Palisades and the Palisade Lakes provided frequent
excuses to take photo breaks. We finally
reached the top at 12:45, in time for a late lunch. We wolfed down our usual mid-day meal of
German bread and peanut butter and relaxed in the sun. The view from this pass is outstanding in
both directions, and we weren’t in any hurry to leave it behind. In fact, this was probably the most scenic
pass of the entire trail.
We
enjoyed our leisurely late lunch before making an easy descent into the Upper
Basin. This was a beautiful area, as we
seemed to be completely surrounded by mountains. We continued to descend gently, but stopped
at a creek crossing near treeline for water and a break in the sun. From there, we dropped down into the woods
and continued on down to the South Fork of the Kings River. From the river, the trail heads back up,
climbing to Pinchot Pass. It was late
afternoon, and we were still running about a ½ day ahead of our original plan,
and neither of us was interested in doing another climb this day. There were a couple of possible campsites
near the river, but they were occupied.
We decided to cross the river and look for a spot on the far side. Crossing where the trail meets the river
would’ve required a significant ford.
However, we found a note under a rock that suggested crossing on logs a
short distance upstream.
We
headed that way, and found an assortment of fallen trees spanning the
river. Crossing them was awkward,
particularly in one area at a small island.
Getting across there required us to bushwhack
through a tangle of limbs, all while balancing on the log. Once through that spot, the rest of the
crossing was easy. We explored the far side
of the river in search of a campsite.
Options were pretty limited though.
There was one good spot, but it was occupied. I was too tired to put a lot of effort into
scouting out a spot, so we ended up taking a marginal spot away from the river
close to the trail. This site was pretty
much unremarkable in every way. The only
thing memorable about it was the mosquitoes, which were some of the worst we’d
seen since the early part of the trip.
We
ate freeze dried dinners again that night, which was pretty typical for the
last 9 nights of the trip. During the
first 2 weeks, we focused on bringing nutritious and tasty meals. My reasoning was that it would be critical to
eat well early on, so as to avoid getting run down later in the trip. Plus, we were able to resupply every three
days during the first half of the trip, so we could afford to carry a little
more weight. For the last half of the
trip though, pack weight was the critical factor. Freeze dried dinners worked ok for us, but on
future long trips I’ll probably rely more on dehydrating my own meals. We learned a lot about dehydrating prior to
this trip, and we’ll be using what we learned more in the future.
ICE CREAM MAN
Initially,
when I sat down to write this, I couldn’t remember a single thing about this
day. My mind was a total blank. I guess that’s an indication of just how long
this trip was. It’s a good thing I take
notes as I go!
We
got up early the next morning and made it out of camp by 7:30. We only had a 2000’ climb ahead of us on this
day, which was a nice change after the big humps over Muir Pass and Mather
Pass. Unfortunately, we woke to cloudy
skies and light drizzle. I think Bob and
I were both afraid that it might be the beginning of another string of 5
straight rainy days. If that were the
case, the foul weather would last almost to the end of the trip. The drizzle ended by the time we got on the
trail, but the steel grey sky warned of more to come.
We
made a short climb out of the valley, and then enjoyed a scenic stroll past a
series of subalpine lakes, including Lake Marjorie. Beyond the lakes, we made the rocky but
reasonably easy climb to Pinchot Pass.
Along the way, we spotted two deer well above treeline. It was odd to see them so high up, with no
apparent source of food nearby.
We
reached Pinchot Pass at 10:45. The day
was still overcast, but thus far there had been neither rain nor thunder. It was a bit of a relief to have that pass
behind us well before noon. We made a
quick descent to an open area with scattered lakes. We continued ahead, but stopped for lunch along
the trail just before treeline. From
there, we began an abrupt descent towards Woods Creek. This stretch of trail was rocky and
occasionally steep, and plagued with a bad case of the PUDS (pointless ups and
downs). We saw more people than usual along
here, and at one point, I thought I heard music. I must’ve been delirious, because the distant
music started to sound like the approach of the ice cream man. I was about to start digging through my pack
in search of cash when a work crew with a line of mules came around a bend in
the trail ahead. The music I’d heard was
from the bells hanging around the necks of the mules. Bob and I shared a chuckle as we stepped
aside to allow the trail crew to pass.
That
afternoon, we finally reached Woods Creek.
We followed this rollicking stream down through a rocky gorge. We passed a number of cascades, and at least
one significant waterfall along the way.
We finally reached a major junction and an impressive swinging bridge
spanning the creek. We crossed the
bridge, and found a large but somewhat crowded camping area. At this point, we had a decision to make.
We
were now more than ½ day ahead of schedule.
My original plan had been to spend the next night at Rae Lakes, which
was 6 miles ahead. If we wanted to push
ourselves, we could continue on to Rae Lakes, leaving us a full day ahead of
schedule. If we camped where we were,
and continued at our present rate, we would blow through the Rae Lakes area
around noon the next day, and end up camping in the next valley. I was a little disgruntled about our recent
habit of camping in the valleys, as that is something I had originally planned
to avoid. The valleys were usually
crowded and buggy, and were always at the bottom of the next big climb. My original strategy had been to camp each
night part of the way up each climb.
That way, we could tackle each pass early in the morning when our legs
were fresh and the weather was better.
One way or another, I wanted to get back on that schedule. Also, I really wanted to camp in the Rae
Lakes area, as that region was reputed to be one of nicest places along the
JMT.
After
a brief debate, we decided that there was no good reason to try to finish the
trail early. Our travel arrangements
were already set, so an early finish offered no real advantages. Taking another layover day was also an
option, but ultimately we settled on a compromise. We decided to camp near Woods Creek that
night, and make a half-day hike to Rae Lakes the next morning. That would put us back on schedule, and give
us an afternoon to enjoy the Rae Lakes basin.
Camping
near Woods Creek required us to find a site that wasn’t already occupied. Bob and I scouted around, and this time I was
the one to find a nice spot. I hiked
over a minor knob, away from the creek, and found a nice secluded spot in Lodgepole and Juniper on the far side. We were a ways from water and the bear boxes,
but it was nice to have some privacy. We
set up camp, and were briefly pestered by light rain. It didn’t amount to much though, and we even
managed a campfire that night. It was a
rare opportunity to enjoy one, as we usually camped in areas where they weren’t
allowed. The fire added a lot to the
camping experience, and we relaxed with another game of cards before heading to
bed.
THE FISH SLAPPING INCIDENT
We
were up early again the next morning, even though we were only planning on
hiking six miles that day. At this
point, we couldn’t have slept in if we had tried. I went for an early morning stroll back
across the swinging bridge, and visited the pit toilet just beyond. I wasn’t about to pass up that opportunity,
as I was growing weary of digging holes.
Bob, on the other hand, considered the pit toilet too far away, and went
with the usual routine. Then again, Bob
seemed to enjoy digging holes. I
wouldn’t be surprised if his wife had to train him to stay out of their garden
after he returned home!
We
had our oatmeal and broke camp at 8. We
began a substantial climb out of the Woods Creek valley, bound for Rae
Lakes. We passed a number of hikers on
the way up, including one interesting group.
It was an older couple from California, carrying monster loads in 1970’s
era external frame backpacks. They were
dressed like cowboys, and I couldn’t figure out where their horses were. They could’ve at least used a pack animal,
although technically they already had one.
Accompanying them was a Mexican teenage boy carrying another huge
pack. It didn’t appear that he was
related to them, although I suppose you never know. Bob and I spent most of the rest of the climb
to Dollar Lake debating what their relationship was. Could he have been some kind of Mexican
Sherpa?
We
were climbing along the South Fork of Woods Creek when we crossed a small
tributary. Bob paused there, and I
looked back to see what he was doing. He
had spotted a small trout that was stranded in a tiny pool in the nearly dry
streambed. Bob asked me to stop for a
minute, and proceeded to try to rescue the fish. He scooped the fish out of the pool, but
proceeded to juggle it as it flopped around in his hands. Suddenly the fish squirted free and bounced
and wriggled across the trail. Bob
chased after it, looking like a drunken competitor in a greased pig wrestling
contest. He’d stoop over and grab, only
to have it squirt free again. I
personally found this whole display to be extremely entertaining. I don’t think he ever corralled the fish, but
he did manage to chase it into the main creek.
Presumably, the fish survived the whole incident.
This
raises a question. If Bob was a
fisherman and he was keeping score, would his tally for the morning be -1?
I
congratulated Bob for doing a good deed.
I would’ve shaken his hand, except that he smelled a bit fishy. For the rest of the day, it seemed like
passing hikers were reluctant to speak with him.
We
reached Dollar Lake at 10:15 and took a break.
We had a fine view of soaring Fin Dome from here. From there, we passed through a gorgeous
subalpine area featuring grassy meadows, lazy streams, and peaceful tarns. After that, we passed above Arrowhead Lake,
which is another subalpine gem. We
reached the lowest of the Rae Lakes at 11:30 and considered stopping at the
first group of campsites there. They
were good sites, but it was still early, and I was holding out for a 5-star
site. We hiked on, and a few minutes
later I scouted ahead without my pack.
After a bit of exploring, I found a spectacular spot on a knob
overlooking the outlet of the Middle Rae Lake.
We had a dramatic view of the middle and lower lakes from there. We were also surrounded by staggering peaks,
including Black Mountain, Dragon Peak, The Painted Lady, and Fin Dome. As soon as I found this spot, I knew we had
to spend the night there.
We
set up camp and had a relaxing lunch.
Then we swam and bathed, and did some laundry. This was wonderful for a number of reasons,
not the least of which was that Bob smelled less like fish afterwards. We followed that up with some sunbathing,
which was pleasant except for strong winds whipping across the lake.
That
afternoon, we took a short walk through the Rae Lakes area. We followed the JMT above the Middle Rae
Lake, passing a ranger’s cabin and a large camping area. We continued from there, exploring the Upper
Rae Lake as far as the outlet. As we
rambled, we noticed several other groups camped in the area, but nobody was
near us.
We
eventually returned to camp, where we spent a relaxing evening enjoying the
spectacular scenery. We were treated to
a lovely sunset, and I dined on the last of the mac-n-cheese
and ham. It was a nice change from the
usual freeze dried meals.
MORNING DEW
I
slept well, but woke up damp. I’d left
the rain fly off my tent the night before, as the sky had been cloud-free. There had been no rain, but we had been
soaked with heavy dew. This was a
surprise to me, as I’d thought the Sierra’s too dry for dew. To make matters worse, it was only 34
degrees, and most of our gear was frosty, as well as wet. Luckily, it was a clear morning, and once the
sun cleared the mountains to our east, everything would dry out rapidly.
We
had oatmeal for breakfast, and took our time breaking camp. I was certainly not in any hurry to pack up
wet gear. As a result, Bob hit the trail
ahead of me. A few minutes after leaving,
he surprised me by returning to camp. He
had run into Molly and Rosa, and apparently Rosa was having problems with her
feet. I gathered up my gear, and we
walked over to their campsite, which was a few minutes
up the trail.
We
hadn’t seen Molly and Rosa since parting ways with them the morning after our
final resupply at Muir Trail Ranch. We
had gotten ahead of them, and they hadn’t caught up until the previous
afternoon. Of course, we were camped
well off the trail, so we hadn’t seen each other when they passed by. On several occasions we had wondered if we
would run into them again. Now we had,
but it was under unfortunate circumstances.
Rosa
had been having trouble with blisters throughout the trip, due to ill-fitting
boots. Unfortunately the problem had
gone from bad to worse, as some of the blisters had become infected. Molly had already checked the ranger station
nearby, but nobody was home. Apparently
the ranger was out patrolling. I gave
Rosa my Neosporin, and they decided to try to hike over Glenn Pass to Charlotte
Lake, where there is another ranger station.
From there, they would decide whether to continue the trip or to bail
out over Kearsarge Pass.
We
wished them well and hit the trail. We
didn’t get going until 10AM, but the day’s hike wasn’t terribly difficult. Most of the climb to Glenn Pass was
reasonable, although the final ascent was steep and rocky. We were treated to a nice view from the top,
but harsh winds discouraged us from lounging around up there. It was also a bit crowded, with several other
hikers at the pass and more on their way up.
We decided to keep moving, and headed down to a small, rockbound lake
for water and lunch. We chatted with
more hikers there, and met the ranger who was returning to the cabin at Rae
Lakes. We spoke with her about Molly and
Rosa, and she told us she would keep an eye out for them on the trail.
By
the time we resumed the hike, the day was getting late, and we still had a lot
of ground to cover. Unfortunately, it
seemed like we kept getting pulled into conversations along the trail. Overall, this day featured too much talking
and not enough walking! The Rae Lakes
area is part of a popular backpacking loop in Kings Canyon National Park, and
we were seeing far more people than we had encountered prior to Woods Creek.
We
descended below treeline, and passed high above lovely Charlotte Lake. From there we descended through the woods and
reached multiple junctions. The first
side trail led to Kearsarge Pass, and the next to
Charlotte Lake. We took a break at the
third junction, and I did a quick side trip from there up to Bullfrog
Lake. When we met Rob and Laura at the Vermillion
Valley Resort, they had mentioned that it was a must-see. Even though we were a bit behind schedule, it
looked like it was only an easy ½ mile away.
I
jogged up there in about 10 minutes, and found that Laura and Rob had been
right. Bullfrog Lake is a beautiful tarn
with the Kearsarge Pinnacles as a backdrop. If I’d had more time, I would’ve explored the
Kearsarge Lakes as well. I guess that’s something for another trip.
I
rejoined Bob, and we made the steep descent to Bubbs
Creek. From there, we hiked upstream
along the creek, passing numerous campsites.
We could’ve stopped at one of these sites, but we still had plenty of
daylight, and I wanted to make a little more progress before calling it a
day. Forrester Pass was ahead of us, and
I wanted to knock out part of the climb before the end of the day. At 13,200’ Forrester is the highest Pass on
both the JMT and PCT. Getting part of it
out of the way that afternoon would put us in good position to finish it the
following morning.
We
stopped one more time for water, before rock hopping Center Basin Creek. From there, we endured one final climb to
treeline. There we found a nice spot on
a small bench under Whitebark Pines, high above Bubbs Creek. There
was a small stream here, and it was a breezy area, which eliminated the
bugs. We arrived late in the evening,
giving us just enough time to set up camp and eat dinner before dark. That night, I consumed another freeze dried
dinner. This time I went with Jamaican
Rice and Chicken, which was ok, but it didn’t come with a doobie,
mon.
SPOON
We
managed an early start the next morning for the climb to Forrester Pass. It was cold that morning, which made it
difficult to pack up and get moving.
Despite this, we got on the trail by 7:30. In his haste, Bob left his spoon sitting on a
rock. I picked it up, but didn’t mention
it. Later that day, he confessed to me
that he was worried that he’d forgotten his spoon. I had hoped to keep my secret until he
discovered it missing at dinner time, but I couldn’t suppress a grin. He was pretty relieved when I told I’d found
it. Eating freeze dried dinners,
oatmeal, and granola cereal without a spoon would’ve been a lot of fun.
Initially
we hiked in the shade, which was chilly despite the uphill grade. That changed in a hurry though, once the sun
rose above the mountains. By that
afternoon, it was downright hot. In
fact, at one point Bob checked his thermometer, and it read 85 degrees! Temperatures that high at an altitude of 11K
are nearly unheard of.
We
passed several pretty lakes on the climb.
One was an unbelievable, almost ethereal, blue. The mountains were impressive, too,
particularly the rocky spire of Junction Peak.
As we climbed, we watched the moon drop behind Mount Stanford.
There
were two snow-covered slopes along the way.
These weren’t particularly tricky, but did require a bit of
caution. We made it across both without
incident, and reached the pass by 10:30.
We loitered there for a bit, before crossing into Sequoia National Park
to begin the final leg of our trip.
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Please remember to Leave No Trace!