12 days in the Sierras

In early September, Peter and I headed down to California for our longest trip to date. Certainly longest miles, but more significantly, most nights.

As seems to be tradition these days, we saw a handful of forest fires in California. The only silver lining was that the smoke made for some dramatic photos.

Forest fire near Susanville, CA.

Our first night was spent at Mono Lake with hope of seeing the tufa at sunrise.

Camping at Mono Lake - Sunrise.

Morning walk on Mono Lake.

We had only a few miles of driving left and made it to the trailhead around 9 am. It took about an hour to pack and check our bags - we normally aren't that thorough but this trip was going to be up to 15 days and we didn't want to forget anything. The trailhead was around 8,000 feet. Our destination for the night was getting into Humphrey's Basin, which required more than an additional 3,000 feet of elevation gain over a couple miles.

Climbing into Piute Valley.

We had zero endurance in these mountains. Climbing a mile could have easily taken us an hour, or more. The elevation was a killer (we anticipated this, but not enough). After climbing a paltry 3 miles in about 7 hours, we stopped for the night at Piute Lake.

Moonrise above Piute Lake.

Peter really wanted to visit Desolation Basin beneath Mt. Humphrey so we were happy to see generally clear skies as we hiked down into Humphrey's Basin.

Hiking down into Humphrey's Basin.

Pretty soon, the weather took a turn. It was so cold that we couldn't stop to rest and decided to drop down into the valley. Both of our packs were over 40 pounds and the only comfort this offered was a bit more warmth :). I was carrying all the food because I have a capacity of 100 L while Peter had the smaller, heavier items.

Approaching snowstorm at Humphrey's Basin - my pack is only about a pound lighter than when we started.

We were able to make it about 6.6 miles on the second day, mostly because it was all downhill (a relief, but a reminder that this would not be a flat trail). We intended to hike down to Hutchinson Meadows for camp, but were so tired and thirsty by the time we found this spectacular swimming hole that we had to stop.

Swimming hole at camp above Hutchinson Meadow.

At this point, we were down around 10,000 feet - 1,423 feet lower than the pass we had climbed to earlier in the day. It was nice to be down in the valley away from the winds.

Camp above Hutchinson Meadows.

We headed down toward Granite Park - we still hadn't decided if we wanted to do the mega-loop (over 100 miles) or one of the shorter loops with side trips. We knew that if we wanted to go for a longer trip, tonight would have to be far enough that we'd have buffer to make it back in case of thunderstorms. Once we made it to French Canyon, I didn't want to hike anymore. It was so serene and quiet that we spent the night.

French Canyon.

Since we had only hiked 3.4 miles, we decided to do a side trip (sans packs) up to Meriam Lake. It was a pretty intense climb with very loose rock and another 600 foot climb back to over 10,000 feet. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

Napping at creek below Meriam Lake.

It was a nice day trip up to the Lake. We found more people than we expected on the trail, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Coming up from a frigid dip in Meriam Lake.

We headed back in the late afternoon with hopes to catch some light in the trees and surrounding hills. Like most nights of our trip, as soon as the sun went down the air temperature would drop a good 10 - 20 degrees.

French Canyon before sunset.

In the morning we started our final push to Granite Park. This was meant to be the highlight of the trip for Peter. He had grand expectations of granite bowls filled with crystal clear mountain lakes.

Heading up to Pine Creek Pass.

As was customary, we headed through another pass - this one just 200 feet lower than Piute Pass. At the top we found several rocky lakes and high winds.

Pine Creek Pass & Bear Creek Spire.

The elevation continued to surprise us, and we stopped short of the park for the final time. At this point, we had gone only 18 miles in 3 days. Our total elevation gain might have been 5,000 feet - an easy hike back home. It didn't take much convincing for us to listen to our bodies and stop for the night.

Near camp above Honeymoon Lake.

Finally, we made it. The trail had fallen into various states of disrepair and it took us longer than expected to go the remaining 5 miles, but we found a nice site above the first lake in the park. We planned to stay here for 2 nights, giving ample time for exploring and (we hoped) acclimation to the elevation.

Granite Park Campsite (for 2 nights).

The first afternoon we went on an adventure to Royce Lakes. What you can't see here is the sheer walls of granite we were climbing along, one of the final sections being especially anxiety inducing.

Climbing up to Royce Lakes.

It was sunny and dramatic once we reached the lake, but it quickly turned to cold and windy. We stayed here and had lunch, contemplating how a person would survive in such conditions.

Feather Peak above Royce Lakes.

Resting at Royce Lakes.

Our walk back was spectacularly colorful, the red leaves glowing in the sunlight. We spent the afternoon looking for a perfect spot for sunrise, or sunset on the following day.

Walk back through Granite Park from Royce Lakes.

Granite Park.

We spotted Mt. Humphrey in the distance, towering high above any other peaks in the area. It would stay with us for most of our trip.

Late afternoon view of Mt. Humphrey.

Above Granite Park at sunset.

Treasure Peak.

We ventured up toward the lip of the Chalfant Lakes basin and had a beautiful view down into the park. We spent some time trying to figure out a good way to off-trail into the basin as it was extremely inviting with lush greenery and dramatic views.

View of Granite Park from lip of Chalfant Lakes basin at sunset.

Sunrise waking for early morning adventure to Chalfant Lakes.

It was a quick easy walk over to Chalfant Lakes where we got cozy in the forest on the rim for sunrise views. We made it just in time to capture the color on Mt. Julius Caesar.

Sunrise on Chalfant Lakes.

Peter wanted to visit Bear Creek Spire in the next valley so we went for an afternoon walk from the Lakes. Along the way, we spotted some big horn sheep in the distance.

Big Horn Sheep in Bear Creek Spire valley.

The 'walk' over to the valley proved much more sheer and exposed than I am comfortable with. I went as far as I could and mostly tried to not watch Peter for fear of my gaze causing him to slip and fall as he ventured a bit further on.

Scrambling through Granite in Bear Creek Spire canyon.

Once back in the comfort of the Chalfant Lakes basin, we had lunch and took several naps. At this point, the elevation was less of a problem and we had arrived to the oft forgotten mountain-state-of-mind where time slows and we can stare at a solitary tree, grand peaks or lakes for hours at a time, unmoving.

On the shores of Upper Chalfant Lake, Mt. Julius Ceasar in the distance.

We arrived back at camp late in the day and took a nap. Peter managed to get some really cool moon-rise shots which included a rare shooting star. A very nice evening in the mountains :).

Shooting star above Feather Peak.

We wanted to get some more early morning photos and decided to just pack up our bags and head out for the day. The sky is almost unearthly at this hour, especially with the granite everywhere.

Pre-dawn at Granite Park.

Granite Basin at Sunrise.

It was around 9:30 am by the time we reached Italy Pass, but it was already brutally hot. There was no trail to speak of and a lot of backtracking to avoid massive granite cliffs. But, we made it - our highest pass yet, and the highest of the trip at 12,400 feet.

Looking back into Granite Park from Italy Pass.

At this point we hadn't eaten since our very early breakfast and the calorie deficit was setting in. There was no real water source in sight and we knew it was many miles until the next creek crossing. We had a couple granola bars (which were heavily rationed since we often didn't have enough water) and headed down another trail-less valley.

'Devil's Quarry' - a name I chose for this barren, dry, rock-filled valley beneath Italy Pass.

Luckily someone had built a trail through the massive boulder field between Jumble Lake and Lake Italy. The rocks ranged in size between 6 inches and 4 feet and, based on prior experience, the half mile would have easily taken several hours without a trail. We arrived at Lake Italy late morning and went for a drunken dip, laying out on the granite slabs beneath the glaring sun.

Lake Italy.

The shoreline of the lake is more than a half mile and is peppered with rocks to walk along, sometimes submerged, requiring frequent zig zags.

Final views of Lake Italy.

Just beyond the last glimpse of Lake Italy we turned a corner and began a short descent along a creek. We found a beautiful waterfall within the first hundred feet and decided to camp somewhere in the valley. After setting up camp, we started exploring and found that Hilgard Valley was actually a spectacular hidden paradise full of surprises. There were countless waterfalls and granite cliffs, shimmering in the sunlight. It was sensory overload, to say the least.

Hilgard Valley at sunset.

Reflections at Hilgard Valley.

In the morning we reluctantly set out for some more miles.  We wanted to stay, but we also knew it was smart to cover miles so we wouldn't have a problem making it to our final camp - we intended to be less than 10 miles from the car on the 11th day, in the case of possible thunderstorms. At this point, our weather knowledge had expired and we had no idea what was in the forecast.

Morning walk along Hilgard Creek.

The hike down proved extremely difficult. The trail was cut into a sheer granite cliff and had many loose rocks and exposure, not to mention plenty of points where it wasn't more than 4 inches wide. At this point on our trip we had gone a couple days without seeing a single person. We were headed toward the PCT and expected to find some more folks around.

A little self-love, combing my hair (feels so good).

Within 10 feet of stepping onto the PCT we saw one hiker and over the next 15 minutes saw no less than 20 more. This is why we don't travel on popular trails. It was hot and we were tired, so we stopped on bear creek for a dip. We ended up spending the night here.

Camping on the banks of Bear Creek.

The next morning we headed out toward the spot that I had been most excited to see: Medley Lake. The map made it look like a couple dozen tiny lakes right next to each other. I wasn't sure what it would look like but it was so unique compared to other landscapes that it sounded very cool. On the way up, we stopped by a couple very cool lakes - partially because we wanted to visit them, but also to get away from the PCT crowds.

Lou Beverly Lake.

Visit to a beautiful tree on Lou Beverly Lake.

We finally made it to Medley Lakes - which did not disappoint. The weather was changing from our prior 8 days of sun and we saw storms coming over the mountains. We both wanted a dip as it had been a couple days at this point, but it was so cold that we were apprehensive. Eventually we did take a quick one, but the sun set shortly after and it took quite awhile to warm up in the tent.

Mt. Senger above Medley Lakes.

The next day was going to be about 2 miles of off trailing to avoid a 4 mile detour back to the PCT. After the off-trailing to Bear Creek Spire earlier in the week I was a little stressed out that it would be full of sheer cliffs and there'd be no turning back.

Marie Lakes.

It turned out the off-trailing was actually totally fine (yay!) and there wasn't really too much in the way of exposure except on the way up (I prefer up-hill exposure and cliffs to down-hill). There were many lakes visited throughout the day, the weather getting cooler and more ominous as the day progressed.

Sally Keyes Lakes.

Normally this would have been a day that we'd have stopped at a beautiful lake, but the weather kept us moving. The rains came in and we were concerned about some mountain thunderstorms which are never pleasant to hike in.

Hiking along the San Joaquin River in the rain.

While the rains made for cold, unpleasant hiking, they also made for spectacular colors. Everything was refreshed and shiny. Greens were deeper, more inviting. The granite was glowing against the dark sky. We stopped for the night after our longest day yet: 13 miles. Aside from a few hundred feet up to Seldon Pass in the morning, it was all downhill: we lost over 4,000 feet and some of it was exceedingly steep. It was a relief to be dropping, but we had to climb back out again in the morning.

At the entrance to Piute Canyon.

xxpicture of waterfall where we had lunch and there were a couple beesxx

xxpicture in humphrey's valley - maybe of guys on horses?xx

xxpicture of aspenxx

The next day was very difficult, climbing back to the campsite we had on our second night. We knew what a lot of the trail looked like, but the initial couple miles were excruciatingly steep uphill. At this point, our packs were a good deal lighter, but progress was slow. We set up camp relatively late and made dinner. The temperatures were dropping throughout the day and we had expectations of a cold night. It was probably our coldest night on the trip - our water would always partially freeze, but this time it was nearly frozen solid.

At this point, we were 6 miles from the car and had 3 days of food left. We decided that if the weather was ideal we might stop by Mt. Humphrey since we had missed it on the hike in. By the time we got there, we were so tired and cold that we decided to hike out. During our final hours on the trail we drank the rest of our alcohol and it was a glorious descent. It had been 12 days since we saw our car and it was quite a strange experience hopping in.

Back at the trailhead!

We were on our way to grab our usual hotel for a shower - the only expense we ever have outside of gas on these trips. There's nothing I crave more than a hot shower in the final stretches of a long backpacking trip, and this was no exception.

Driving home. Or, more importantly, to a shower.

This was a memorable trip, to say the least. We are capable of long trips, and we re-learned that we are not fans of high-mileage backpacking. This year we did a good mix of high-mileage and low-mileage days and I think we're going to stick to the more relaxing itineraries. Not only is it better on our joints (carrying a 40 pound pack is hard on the knees), but it's better for our minds. We can spend more time with ourselves, with each other, with the mountains.