Sunday, September 30, 2012

Dog Paw Mishaps... Tips for Hiking With Dogs

Sandy enjoying one of many backpacks on trail....
Many many years ago I learned a very valuable lesson.  Whatever conditioning you must include  your dogs too!

My family set off on an early season hike one year in the Yolla Bolly Wilderness area of Northern California.   Wilderness areas are accepting of dogs, so we brought our two labrador retrievers,  Sandy,  and her daughter, Cali.   Excited about the first hike of the season,  we woke early and got to the trailhead by a decent hour.   We all donned our packs, including the dogs, and set off up the trail.  Our path was snow free and well trod for easy hiking...or so we thought.   As the day warmed,  we all slowed on the steady climb.   Because of the heat,  I didn't realize there might be a different reason Sandy was slowing.   We got to our first creek crossing and Sandy flopped down in the water...not wanting to move when we were ready to continue on.   Calling her was of no avail...a certain warning bell for all of us.   I went back to where she lay and that is when I first noticed her paws.   Her raw and bleeding paws,  with a slab of pad sliced off on one foot made me gasp in shock!   We had only gone about a mile and a half...what had happened?   As we looked around at the path we'd followed,  we noticed it was a bit rough, but not enough to do the damage to Sandy that we saw.  Then we realized the creek itself was layed with sharp rocks.  The combination of slightly rough trail,  and sharp creek rocks had shredded poor Sandy's pads.   Our dogs were in trouble.

There was no way we could continue our trip.  And though the car was only one and a half miles back,  there was no way Sandy could make it on her own...and we could not carry a 60 pound dog.   I had everybody scramble through their packs to find what we could and coming up with bandanas and extra wool socks...we managed to bandage and cover her feet with a thick enough layer that she could hobble slowly back down the trail with us.

We went straight back to the car,  scrapping our backpacking trip.   On the way home, we spotted a turnoff for a little lake with what appeared to be a primitive car camping area ...turning off the main road we went to investigate.  There wasn't much there,  just  the lake and a couple of picnic tables and fire rings.   But,   we had the place to ourselves.   Lifting Sandy from the car onto her blanket on the picnic table...she enjoyed a place of royalty that night.

Once at home, I took her to my vet and here is what she said.   Boots are difficult to use and hard to keep on (maybe nowadays there are more high tech ones available,  but at the time there wasn't much choice).  There was a chemical we could use that would toughen her pads,  but chances are it would end up making them crack and defeat our purpose.   Or....we could condition our dog's feet before trips while we condition ourselves.   She said get them out everyday on varying types of surfaces for at least a mile daily for at least 6 weeks before a backpack trip.   Dogs pads are much like our feet and can be babyskin soft if not conditioned,  or can callus up like shoe leather!

I opted for the conditioning route and enjoyed many years of hiking with my dogs with no further feet mishaps...simply because I religiously conditioned their paws daily for weeks ahead of time taking them on sand, rocks, bark, gravel etc etc etc!

Stay tuned though for more doggy trail tales and tips from lessons learned the hard way....:)

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Bring a Map...

Well worn topo from a favorite backpack
I was recently reading a string of posts in one of my favorite hiking forums about lost hikers.    I also ride volunteer mounted horse patrol at my local state park,  and by far the most common help I give visitors is passing out maps and reorienting lost hikers.
You'll see from my blog tales that it took a number of trips for me to learn to read a topo map properly....I had some amusing and not so amusing mishaps on the way to learning to read a map.   But,  that was mostly while learning to read maps proficiently enough to hike off trail.   Basic map reading is not that hard...providing you remember to bring a good map!
You can get good maps at any backpacking store worth their salt,   you can order them on line,  you can get them at visitor centers near the area you are planning to visit.  
While you are at it...pick up a compass to go with your map.   Your compass does not need to be a large expensive compass that does everything.   Pick up a simple cheap compass and start using it even on day hikes!
Don't count on electronics to get you there.   Batteries go dead,  satellites cannot always be found when you need them.   If you hike,  learn to read a topographical map and compass....and have fun out there!

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Somewhere Along the John Muir Trail

The John Muir Trail - Part 2

A remote point to point 200 plus mile backpack spanning from Yosemite to the top of Mt Whitney (with another 11 miles from the top of Mt Whitney to the trailhead)

I had decided to hike the John Muir Trail when I was only ten years old!   "Back then,"  TVs were a fairly new thing, and color TVs newer still.   Families would sit in an evening and watch TV together as it was still such a novelty.   One night as I was sitting on our old brown couch with my legs curled under me, and my dad lounging nearby in his favorite chair,  this TV show came on about hiking.  I was immediately riveted.   I'd been drawn to sleeping under the stars since I was four years old when I was first allowed to sleep  outside in the backyard with my big brothers.    As stunning scenes of snow covered peaks and lush green valleys passed in front of my eyes,  the narrator told of a trail that passed through these same stunning wild areas I was seeing on the TV.   Further,  he said that a person could walk for over 200 miles through this wilderness and that it took  a  person through some of the most remote wilderness in the lower 48.   A person would not pass a single road,  and be traveling among America's wildest animals and see precious few people.  I vowed that very night  that someday I would hike this John Muir Trail!   I never forgot that show, and I never forgot my dream of hiking it despite where my life's journeys took me.

At age 16,  I began backpacking in earnest.  With a group of five  friends about the same age as I,   I experienced my very first backpacking trip...only one of us had backpacked before,  yet we managed 60 miles in 5 days that first trip...with no adult along to help!   After that,  a couple of us teens managed to hook up with a local Sierra Club group who graciously allowed us to join them.  We spent a couple of days listening to our hiking elders tell very tall tales of sleeping in the snow over embers buried beneath them for warmth...they were tall tales weren't they?  Then,  still at 16 years,  my best friend and I convinced our parents to let us spend a week in Glacier National Park all by ourselves.    What interesting experiences we had that week traveling alone in the backcountry of Glacier!

Over the years,  as I continued to backpack,  I got lost on occasion and learned to read a topographical map very well.    Then I became so proficient hiking by map and compass that I eschewed trails altogether and spent trip after trip hiking off trail.   I saw animals I'd only read about in books.   I saw shooting stars galore.   I camped under starry skies over and over telling tall tales of my own to my kids and grandkids.  I stood on peaks with views so farreaching that you could see for miles and miles....until finally,  I could see mountains in every direction I had journeyed through in seasons past.   Even still,  throughout  all these spectacular journeys,  there was one I still had not taken.   That dream I had made when I was ten years old still lived inside me and beckoned quietly to not be forgotten.  New dreams hike the Pacific Crest Trail  from Mexico to Canada, 2,650 miles.  And yet another dream  came to me of hiking the Continental Divide Trail Canada to Mexico ... 3,100 miles.    Perhaps I would follow those hikes up with the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine.   None of those dreams however surplanted my first real hiking dream...that of hiking where John Muir had traveled among the high peaks of the "Range of Light,"  the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range in California.   The longer trails of the PCT and CDT and AT sounded wonderful....but first and foremost,  I longed to hike that first trail that captured the  heart and mind of that long ago ten year old sitting on that old brown couch hearing of John Muir and seeing his beloved mountains on that old TV.

And from time to time I wondered when would I ever get there!

To be continued....


Wednesday, July 18, 2012

A Two Hundred Mile Trek along the John Muir Trail

The John Muir Trail - Part 1

A remote point to point 200 plus mile backpack spanning from Yosemite to the top of Mt Whitney (with another 11 miles from the top of Mt Whitney to the trailhead)

Meandering down the John Muir Trail at a relaxed but moderate pace knowing we were only hiking a few miles this day on mostly flat trail,  we enjoyed the warm sun and first sounds of the wilderness welcoming us back.   Hikers experience quite a different listening experience in the backcountry as they hike to the sounds of crickets and birds and wind soughing through the pine boughs overhead.   Paralleling the Tuolumne River through Lyell Canyon, we had made it almost to the base of our first real climb this day when suddenly I realized the day’s sounds had changed dramatically….I no longer heard footsteps behind me!  Turning quickly to see what had happened to Gary and expecting to see him bending down tying his shoelaces or something mundane like that, I was shocked when I saw the expression on his face.   Actually, it was the lack of expression that most alarmed me.  Gary stood stock still with a completely blank expression on his face.   “Gary?  ….Gary?.... GARY!”  I tried in vain to get his attention and was starting to wonder if he was having a mini stroke or something.   Finally he managed to croak out the words “we have no tent!”  Seeing him come back to life was immeasurably comforting and I relaxed my tightened shoulders and back  in relief.   Oh good,  he’s okay, some silly matter about equipment and not a medical emergency!   I asked him what on earth he was talking about as I knew he carried the tent safe and sound in his pack.   He always carried the tent.   As he focused his  attention back on me  asking me if I had the tent,  I realized there might be a problem here after all,  albeit a minor one.    I answered that I didn’t have the tent, but of course he did, right?  As it turns out,  as we had piled our equipment on the bed while packing,  he had for some reason thought I grabbed the tent just as I thought he had.   Gary was right,  we were absolutely without a tent at the beginning of our three week, 200 mile trek on the John Muir Trail.   Far enough from the car that neither of us wanted to turn around and go get it, nevertheless,  we had to come up with some solution.  Hiking for three weeks in the high Sierra backcountry far from any hotels,  stores or housing with no shelter  was extremely risky.   One good rain and our soaked clothes in the lower temperatures of these higher elevations would most certainly  ensure life threatening hypothermia would get us both!   We both stood there staring at each other dumbfounded as the reality of our dangerous situation really started to sink in to me.

To Be Continued.....:)

Friday, July 13, 2012

Gary and I on top of Mt of the few pics we have to show we really do hike together!:)

Mountain Pass

Clomp  Tromp  Stomp
Huff Puff Sigh
Ever higher with each step
      Ever closer to the Sky

Friday, June 29, 2012

Photography and Animal Tracking Fun

Wanna get some fun pics in the backcountry?
Animal tracks are always just plain fun!
Just place a pocket knife, coin etc  next to your track to show size and depth!
Gray Fox track from Lake Italy region in the Sierra Nevada
Wallowing around in the mud will generally net you some great pics... I never pass a mudhole by without taking a peek!
The pic above is clearly from a "dog" or canine species and not a "cat" or feline species.   Here are some tips on telling if your track is from a dog like a coyote or fox as opposed to a cat like a cougar or bobcat:

1-Canines have symmetrical prints, felines do not. ie in the "dog" print above, the toes are side by side, in a "cat,"  the "leading" toe or 2nd toe from inside would have been slightly higher giving the print an asymmetrical look to it.

2-Canines usually have claws out,  felines often don't unless they are pouncing (click on the above pic to enlarge it and you can see the claws clearly)

3-Canines have 2 lobes (look at the very  bottom of the above print),  felines have 3

Wanna know how I decided this was a gray fox instead of a red fox?  Gray foxes have less furry feet than a red fox so their toes show more clearly.  A red fox's print would have been more fuzzy from their furry feet!

If you've got some great pics that we can all learn from like the one I took above,  let me know and I'll post it,  with credit to you of course...:)!

Sunday, June 17, 2012

The Canyon

Loop Backpack including the Southernmost section of High Sierra Route,  connecting to the John Muir Trail and looping back to trailhead via Bubbs Creek Trail.   Strenuous backpack of 66.6 miles total, approx 25 miles off trail, 18,009 feet elev gain (18,009 elev loss of course too)

When people start hiking off trail by map and compass, just about anything can and probably does go wrong that can possibly go wrong.    By the time Gary and I  decided to hike the southernmost section of the High Sierra Route, including about 25 miles off trail, we had had quite a few short sections of off trail hiking under our belts.  Understandably smug in our ability to take on an undertaking of this magnitude, due to our experience,  we were not prepared to be humbled quite so much by this journey.   In retrospect, we can now both laugh at our audicity in feeling so over confident back the time of this journey, we were quite chagrined at discovering the pitiful reality of our then compass and map reading skills.

The book,  The Sierra High Route: Traversing Timberline Country is the brainchild of Steve Roper,  an old time Sierra hiker that came up with the idea of paralleling the John Muir Trail.    Steve had decided that the famous John Muir Trail  was not quite as spectacular as it could be as it dropped from the crest of the High Sierra range and often took it's travelers in lower less spectacular areas.    The High Sierra Route as proposed by Steve Roper remedied that lack and took those hardy souls capable of navigating through  extended off trail travel in the mountains  into higher,  far less traveled,  and much more phenomenal country than it's cousin,  the JMT.

As I look back on the original map of this journey,  I see handwriting smeared by sweat,   pictures   taken by the handful of backpackers who at that time had broken trail before us  painstakingly researched and pasted onto the map.   I see the map is creased and recreased from the many folds as we refolded the map during our journey over and over while keeping the section we were currently navigating visible thru our baggie.  Almost every fold has been shredded by use allowing long gaping holes to puncture our precious guide.   I also see the hours we spent poring over the contour lines picking the best way over each ridge and around each lake.   I see yellow highlighter fading with time that once stared brightly back from the face of a once sparkly clean map.  Our highlighted route  now lying dully smudged by  the high Sierra dirt soiling  the surface of  the map.   I also see the consternation on Gary's face as we stand on the edge of a precipice looking a thousand feet down into the canyon that should have been a near vertical cliff face in front of us.
Our original map
That canyon was near the beginning of our 9 day journey and a humbling start of  the many off trail miles  still to be navigated in the next few days!

There are many reasons why backpackers head to the  backcountry to hike.   Number one I suppose is the beckoning of the beauty of the wildflowers, views and wildlife to be experienced that are really not available any other way than by donning a pack and paying your dues of blood, sweat and tears in the wilds.   Another reason for extended hikes  is the feeling of accomplishment of miles hiked, trails traveled and earning the knowledge that you can live for an extended period of time with nothing more than what you can carry on your back.   And last but not least,  is the  ability to experience nature on her own terms.  And not that I am anti-social,   as I am not,  but....that last reason to backpack is best experienced without the hordes of people you find in cities and towns.    Backpackers seek lesser traveled trails for that brief period of time they have to live in nature.    And,  off trail is the best of that world.   So,  for all of the above reasons,  Gary and I decided to spend the better part of a week of our 9 day backpack in Aug of 2000 off trail in the High Sierra.

The choice of the southernmost part of the High Sierra Route was obvious for us simply for the reason that we had not hiked it before.   Most backpackers go to great lengths to find places to travel that they've never been to before,  and Gary and I had hiked very little in the area we were about to journey.   So,  after making our maps at home and packing,  we headed off to the Copper Creek Trailhead in Kings Canyon National Park.    Our first night's camp was at Tent Meadows.   There are lower and upper tent meadows, and for any backpackers reading have two choices for a first night.  Either you stay at Lower Tent Meadows on the way up to the Crest,  I think about 4 miles, and sleep on a slope in the trees in a well used  camp spot.   We did share our night at Lower Tent Meadows with a huge herd of deer  whose youngsters were galloping around and playing for a couple of hours nearby.    Or,  you climb close to 5,000 feet in one day to get up to the Crest.    I've done both....I would opt for the Crest were I to do it again probably....but that is one nasty first day!   If you  opt for Lower Tent Meadows,  you then get half the climb,  and will look forward to a  choice of lovely campsites for your next night....Grouse Lake,  Granite Lake...or anyplace beyond.

Staying at Lower Tent Meadows,  our first day was entirely on trail of course.   And following Secor's book closely the next day (I had actually taped photocopies of certain pages to the back of my map),  we really had no major problems finding our landmarks.   Notice the use of the word major.  Grin.  Once the Copper Creek trail leveled out,  we knew Grouse Lake would be just North of us.   We went for the suggested half mile,  and found no creek,  no lake,  no water.   Maps don't lie however,  so we knew the direction we had to go to find the lake.   And we had to find the lake,  as the  "trail" we wanted would climb out of the lake bowl up a ridge....without finding that lake,  we would not have the ability to take the next leg of our journey.   Eyeballing a ridge and dense forest to the north of us where the lake was supposed to be,  Gary suggested we climb the ridge above the trees to get a better view.   Surely we'd be able to see the lake from the top of the hundred foot ridge in front of us.   As we climbed, I started realizing this was a bad idea.   We were getting higher and higher,  and still no lake view.   Gary had pulled ahead of me,  and was almost out of sight.  But finally,  I heard his yell.... "I see water!"  Once down at the lakeshore,  we were quite chagrined to realize we could simply have walked through the forest and obtained the lakeshore...hindsight is always 20/20!

Water in the backcountry is generally a welcome sight,  but when your navigation depends on finding it,  it is downright exhilarating!   Excited about  navigating our first hurdle,  and enjoying a light snack at Grouse,   nevertheless,  we bemoaned the fact that we hadn't climbed all the way to it the first day and spent our first night there.   That was the seed that was planted encouraging us to later climb all 5,000 feet in one day in a later trip!    Ultimately though,  we congratulated ourselves on a job well done in finding this hidden lake...and our route out.   For,  the next leg of the route would take us straight up the lake bowl to the North side of the Lake to the top of 11,320 ft  Grouse Lake Pass or Grouse Lake Saddle.   Picking our way fairly easily up and around chunks of granite to the top of the pass took awhile,  but we finally  allowed ourselves the luxury of stopping for a leisurely lunch in the sun once on top.    Taking in the outstanding views,   we saw  a series of three tiny tarns west of the pass,   most definately a great place to stop for our next night.    So we made our way to the tarns and had lovely views back down canyon onto unvisited Granite Basin,  a sneak preview of a spot we'd visit in a later trip.

Dee atop Goat Crest

In the early morning sun,  we regained our route, and were soon at the top of  Goat Crest Pass.  Then started the downhill work.   Sounds a little odd to call downhill climbing work,  but as any off route hiker knows,  those steep talus fields can be agonizinly slow and hard on the "brake" muscles!
Dee Down climbing from Goat Crest in a heavier pack than she'd have in a few days, and certainly heavier than she'd use in later trips!  Off trail hiking makes you want to shed those pounds!
Towards the bottom though, the "climbing" got much easier and we "strolled" down to Glacier Lake.
Gary strolling down to Glacier Lake
Glacier Lake was lovely with a nice sandy beach to explore and enjoy....snack time again.
Glacier Lake is the quintessential "High Mountain Lake"...notice the distant peaks just slightly higher than the lake level!
Being so early in the day though,  we couldn't justify staying a night there so we begrudgingly left the beach and headed on down valley  There was one point at which the guide book had said to veer a certain direction.   Looking impassable, we chose to veer the other way.    We ended up doing some pretty serious  bushwhacking and learned to follow Steve Roper's advice!   Finally though,  passing another of the Glacier Lakes,  we obtained lower  Glacier  Valley at about 9,900 feet and found ourselves in the trees,  and for a couple short miles actually walking a real trail again briefly!

Sauntering on a trail was a pleasant diversion from our off trail boulder hopping, bushwhacking and steep ups and downs.   We strolled  to and around first State Lakes,  and then trailless once again, made our way  to  Horseshoe Lakes   which  were quite easy to find.

From Horseshoe Lakes our real navigation began in earnest.   The previous off trail was just a warm up.   From Horseshoe Lakes we'd be going over 4 passes with no trail,  Gray, White,  Red and Cartridge Passes and be exploring miles of drainages and basins and lakes on our way back to any signs of civilization.    Thus,  it was rather disconcerting as we hiked away from Horseshoe Lakes presumably to hike up a 1,000 foot cliff face,   that we could see no cliffs in front of us through the trees.   However, there was no mistaking we were at Horseshoe Lakes....their shapes so distinctive on our map,   that they might as well have had a trail sign  by them.   So,  we just kept going in the direction our compass and directions said to go  and took it on faith that the cliff would present itself sooner or later.   We did do some climbing....about 300 feet up a gentle slope.   But, not the vertical cliff face we searched for.   Both of us were starting to get more than a little concerned,  for when you are off trail you depend heavily on landmarks like cliff faces to let you know you are going the right way.    Finally though, late afternoon was upon us, meaning we had traveled the necessary distance to have gone beyond the cliff face,  and we had advanced as high as we could go.   Standing on a barren lonely plateau with far reaching views in almost every direction,  it was clearly obvious something was quite wrong!   Standing on the edge of a steep precipice,  suddenly it hit me!   I started laughing... and to this day don't know how I managed to get  the words out to tell Gary what I had done.   For it was I who had researched and planned the route and studied the map so closely and knew the cliff should have been where we stood.   When Gary came and stood next to me,  looking at me quizzically,  I pointed at the map,  and then pointed down at our feet.   For far below us directly under our feet,  was the missing 1,000 cliff.   We stood with our toes pointed over  a 1,000 foot  precipitous drop off into Windy Canyon.   My cliff face was 1,000 foot vertical  drop,  not a 1,000 foot climb up!   Those squiggly contour lines do not tell all.   We learned that day that you must look at the tiny little elevation numbers to know whether those lines are taking you up or down!   Both Gary and I were quite chagrined as he had studied the map as frequently as I had all that afternoon while we searched to find our way.   As it turned out  though,   following compass alone,  at least  we had correctly  found ourselves on Windy Ridge  exactly where we needed to be!    Finding a lovely little tarn on that ridgetop,  we pulled out our gear and enjoyed a wonderful camp and an unobstructed starry sky that night.

Camp atop Windy Pass
Many fellow backpackers wouldn't dream of sleeping outside without their tent.   Gary and I relish sleeping sans tent.  There is nothing quite like the gentle night breezes soughing across your face,  or waking up in the middle of the night cozy and warm while snuggled in your fluffy down bags as you watch the meteors streak across the night sky.   In fact, most folks don't realize just how many shooting stars streak over their heads undetected every single night.   On an average,  while in the high country of the mountains with no city lights to damage the view,  we probably see a shooting star every 2-3 minutes all night long!   Sleeping outside under a starry sky is half the wilderness experience for me.   Unless it's raining or it's early season and the mosquitos are driving us mad,  we sleep out under the wide open night sky enjoying the thick blanketing of stars normally not visible in  town.

Come morning,  well rested after a cozy night on Windy Ridge...which had just enough wind to lightly blow the mosquitos away...we packed up and headed towards our next landmark.   For that is how one hikes off trail,   from landmark to landmark.   And,  we soaked in some lovely views as we made our way the length of the ridge.

We took turns guessing at which way we'd be making our way down from the ridge.   As it turns out,  neither of us were correct as the landscape herded us into a narrow hidden defile next to the cliffs we had been flanking.   As we oohed and ahed over the ingenuity of those who had passed before us,  we were astounded at what they had accomplished.   For in 1935 the Sierra Club had brought about 100 people this way along with enough stock to supply those folks on one of the largest backcountry expeditions of the Sierra Nevada the Sierra Club ever accomplished.   Only by traveling in their "footsteps" can one truly appreciate the magnitude of their feat.   Once off the easy traveling Windy Ridge,  there were times when Gary had to lend me a hand,  and even take my pack and boost it up before I could get up an occasional little cliff face.   And being an owner of a very agile horse,  yet I cannot imagine getting my horse down some of the huge skirts of granite several feet high those early travelers got their stock down and up.   These early travelers had to spend extra time laboriously building sections of trail to safely get their stock through.   The care and patience and creativity they had to have had to travel where we were traveling was mind boggling to us.   And a couple of times we benefited from tiny pieces of trail still existing  that they had engineered back in 1935.

Soon off of Windy Ridge though,  we worked our way down to the South Fork of Cartridge Creek.    A sample of some of the material I found about this area's traveling:  "The route drops down into the South Fork of Cartridge Creek.  Follow the stream up until a small lake about 10,500 is reached.  From here,  veer left up to a series of smaller lakes under Marion Peak."   That sounds so easy from the comfort of home.   Once you are "out there" however,   reality is much different.   Every few minutes as you climb with sweat forming under your hat brow and formimg rivulets  down the sides of your face,  you wonder how far you are to climb.   Was that little mosquito pond you passed 10 minutes ago the pond the previous hiker was talking about?   If you have an altimeter,  are you calculating the inevitable errors of your altimeter correctly?   My husband's altimeter seems to lose or gain 60 or 80 feet every thousand feet.   At each landmark you find,  your spirits are buoyed immeasurably.  You are found!   Then as you make your way to the next landmark,  doubts assail you unmercifully.   Just one or two in the beginning...."hey,  can I look at the map again real quick?"  Then  if you don't find your next landmark as soon as you thought you should the doubts start crescendoing upon you.   Until finally,  one or both of you calls a halt to regroup and really restudy the map.      We did however successfully find that pond at 10,500 feet this trip and climb up a rocky gully past a series of tarns enroute to Gray Pass.  The  hiking was relatively easy for quite some time as we climbed from granite bench to granite bench.   Eventually we did come to Gray Pass and enjoyed the wonderful views and exhilarating feeling of knowing exactly where we were!
Looking back at Gray Pass....obvious Gray Mountains!
Dee quite tired from not eating enough!
Our next landmark, White Pass, would cause us no little consternation however!   Traveling  from one pass to the next,  sounded so easy at home.   Go over a pass,  walk down to the valley on the other side and climb up to the next pass.    However,   by the time  we had  passed over Gray Pass and taken the stroll down into the basin at the foot of Marion Peak....we realized there were a couple of obvious saddles ...and to be honest,  we weren't  one hundred percent certain we were even actually looking at Marion Peak!   Gary was still going strong,  I  had not eaten enough and was flagging quite a bit.   When you are backpacking,  it is very wise to carry snacks handy in an easily

accessible pocket  and actually eat a bit every 90 minutes or so to keep up your pace!   I had not done that and was mentally,  emotionally and physically drained!   Worried about our navigation and getting lost on top of  being tired and hungry was a bad combination.   As I was rapidly approaching meltdown status,  Gary had me take off my pack,  sit at the bottom of the basin studying my map....and eat!   Meanwhile,  he left his pack with me and was actually fresh enough to take off at a jog  up to the top of what we possibly thought was the correct pass for a quick look around.    The country around us being above treeline was quite wide open and so I could see him most of the time we were separated.   All but when he was at the top of the pass...and had stepped to the far side of it.   Each minute Gary was out of sight at that point was like an hour.   When we separate in the backcountry,   I am always quite concerned.   By the time he came back in sight though,  I had eaten enough to replenish my energy....and studied the map enough to be pretty sure  the peak at my feet that rose high above my head was indeed Marion Peak.    And by the time Gary returned he was able to confirm my map study.   He had indeed actually climbed White Pass and verified we were on the right path.   My rest was extended while Gary had his lunch,  and then off we went to climb our next pass that day.
Gary checking out the route ...

Red Point with Red Pass on the right shoulder of the Point
Once on top of White Pass,  our next goal,   Red Pass,  was all too obvious as it would lie just south of the Red Peak in this picture.     Elated at spotting Red Point and thinking it would be an easy stroll to the we went.   And, the going was relatively easy.   Walking on loose but gentle granite slabs and benches,  we moved pretty quickly.   One mishap occurred in that section  that I have paid for dearly  in later years though.    We had come upon a granite shelf that necessitated we go over the top of it,   rather than around.   A pretty good vertical drop off at the edge of the granite block convinced us climbing over the top of it was the wiser and only choice really.   So, Gary climbed up first.   I was a little slower,  placing my feet so as to  be able to have enough leverage to give myself a boost up.   Nevertheless,  the ledge was just high enough that I just could not quite get myself up on the shelf without either taking off my pack and shoving it up ahead of me,  or getting help from Gary.   Gary was ready to help,  so I stretched out my arm for him to grab.   He grabbed and pulled,  but our timing was off and because I was not quite ready to boost myself up at the same time that he pulled my arm,  he very nearly dislocated my shoulder.   In years since,  we have never done that maneuver again without a verbal "one,  two,  three,  go!"  But,  I squeezed the tears of pain away and kept walking.
Red Pass finally in view,  still an hour's walk away....
Dee standing at the pass, notice the Granite in the background and the red metamorphic rock of Red Pass
On the East side of Red Pass, notice Marion Lake just popping to view to the right of Gary's feet mid picture.
Piece of trail bottom foreground
On the East side of Red Pass enroute to Marion Lake,  we were pleasantly surprised to find pieces of old trail guiding the way.   This country was so lightly traveled when we first hiked it,  that we presumed these little bits of trail were left over from the 1935 Sierra Club expedition rather than being "use trail" sections.

By now,  the day was aging and thoughts of camp started popping up.   We had one last hurdle to jump before being able to take our packs off for the night however.   The dreaded Marion Lake chutes!  Actually,  since we hadn't been there yet,  we didn't really dread them yet.   We would in future trips though.   Looking at the picture above,  you can see Marion Lake mid picture,  and see the lake is in a granite bowl with steep sides.  As you approach Marion, it becomes more and more obvious that the side of the lake you are approaching presents  nothing more than a sheer vertical drop of 50-100 feet into the lake!    Almost.   The steep granite skirt  on the side of the lake we were approaching does however have several fingers lined with tiny talus and powder which you can see in the picture below.   The instructions I remember finding,  say to take the far left chute.   Further, the instructions claim that the chute is not obvious and to go to the last obvious chute on the left,  and then look for one more.   In neither that trip,  nor the following trip a few years later did we ever find "the easier" left chute.   Taking what we thought was the correct left chute,  Gary started down first and my heart was in my throat as I took the first tentative steps behind him.   For  at the top you are truly taking it on faith that the route is passable as  all you see when you take those first steps is near vertical sand with water at the bottom!   In fact,   the reality is not much different from that!   It is however,  passable.   From time to time I started sliding,  but was able to halt my slides.   And at one point as I slid into Gary I thought we were both goners,  but he was able to both halt my slide and keep his feet.   And,  by the time we neared the bottom,  we found we could actually bushwack around the granite chunk of cliff  on our left and finally obtain the shoreline!

Marion Lake Chutes,  Red Pass on the far top right
Marion Lake was not too shabby a camp for the night and we enjoyed exploring the area.   Any tips for future hikers to the area,  I probably would not camp there again.   The only places to camp were just too close to the shoreline....and beautiful Lake Basin is just a hop,  skip and a jump away anyway.
First glimpse of Lake Basin

In the morning,  we gleaned our first look at Lake Basin.   We had seen Lake Basin on maps for years....but had never ventured there.   Lake Basin is stunning.   Early season wildflower displays must be simply stunning....nevertheless,  even in August we felt we were still strolling through paradise!   We took our time strolling through this lovely basin.   Enjoying the many  lakes dotting the landscape under the  deep blue sky.   We spied the  route we'd be taking if we were to continue on the High Sierra Route North.   Alas,  that would be for another trip....we needed to loop back south and begin our journey back to the trailhead.   Still several days of backcountry ahead of us though,  and the rest of our off trail navigation ahead of us,  Gary and I were discussing just where exactly we should be headed in Lake Basin to access Cartridge Pass.   Deep in discussion,  neither one of us at first noticed the movement across the Basin.   Not sure which of us saw it first,  nevertheless we both stopped and stared....what was coming towards us?   A few long seconds passed before we realized it was another human!   Having not seen a human in several days now,  it took us quite by surprise!   Another hardy hiker was picking his way in our direction.   We would not pass close enough to say hi to him as we would be farther up valley by the time he made his way to our present location,  and I'm not sure either of us wanted to!   Normally backpackers are quite friendly and neighborly types.   As you wander down a trail and pass another backpacker,  you are sure to ask about the trail ahead and answer the same questions to the hiker going in the direction you just came from.   Here in Lake Basin though,  after having had the wilderness to ourselves for days,  it was actually quite an intrusion to find another hiker in "our" valley.   I am sure the other hiker felt the same as he never lifted his head to gaze at us much less lift an arm to wave.   We all just simply quietly passed as ships in the night enroute to our respective destinations.  Gary and I have since been back to Lake Basin,  in fact we have hiked this section of the High Sierra Route again,  and I am sorry to say word had gotten out and we maybe encountered 25-30 people taking this same journey.   I am glad that so many are able to enjoy the wilds as we do,  but it most definately is a different journey when you travel to high,  wild places that not too many others have  discovered yet,  and I'm glad we got to experience it when spotting one single person was a huge surprise!
V Lake.   Red Pass on back right is where we came from
Distances are deceiving....notice Gary strolling along at the base of the cliffs!

As we made our way to the highest lake in the Basin,  our first glimpses of the cliffs  Cartridge Pass were to go over gave us both not a little trepidation for what we were about to attempt!
Appearing very steep, our first glimpses of Cartridge were nervewracking!

But, as neared the base of the cliffs,  the pass appeared more and more doable.   Heights in the backcountry always appear steeper from a distance!   However,  two words still could not be minimized on this steep several hundred foot climb...."loose rock."   No other way to find out though  how doable it was,  than simply by doing it.   So we proceeded to the base of the cliffs.
 The finer looking talus lines in the cliffs across the water is Cartridge Pass

Once we reached the base of the climb,  I realized I needed to eat.   At the bottom of a steep climb however,  is not when you want to fill what will turn to a chunk of lead in your stomache during a workout.   So,  I satisfied myself with a couple of pieces of dried fruit to sustain me for the climb.   As we started out,  I quickly realized this was not a climb I wanted to look down on.   Being afraid of heights means you can climb anything as long as you don't look down!   And though Cartridge is not really what you would call "exposed,"  meaning you are not in danger of falling off the cliff face if you lean the wrong way,  nevertheless, the climb is quite steep.    My characteristic way of dealing with steep climbs  is to scramble up as fast as I can.   So,  I just put my legs in gear and started climbing.   Gary took up the rear in an effort to give me a false sense of security,  bless his heart.    Moving very rapidly,  I just wanted to get it over with.   No enjoying the views til I am safe on the top.   But a pleasant surprise presented itself on this climb in the form of a nice little flat bench midway up the cliff!

Tired after a fast scramble up the pass, Dee rests on a little bench half way up Cartridge
Having made "the halfway bench,"  the rest of the climb is less steep and less exposed and much more relaxing!    From the top of Cartridge Pass we had wonderful views back on Lake Basin as well as views south to Arrow Peak,  Bench Lake and across towards Pinchot Pass on the John Muir Trail.
Dee on Cartridge.  Bench Lake mid left,  Arrow Peak behind Dee
Heading down Cartridge Pass we were once again reminded of the old Sierra Clubbers,  and old time sheepherders as well,  while we  followed in their footsteps down an old narrow spotty piece of trail!   The bits of trail were quite welcome even if they were steep and not very well engineered.   This old trail managed to get a lot of pioneering folk  down the steep canyon walls to the South Fork of the Kings River.   This old forgotten trail also served Native Americans well as evidenced by the obsidian chips and arrowheads Gary and I found  back on our journey.   We left them where we found them so if any of my readers happens on to them also,  please leave them for the next lucky hiker!   In fact on this trip we found two spots where the Piutes had camped and made arrowheads while hunting or gathering or doing whatever else the backcountry afforded them on their journeys.   Both the Piutes and the Mono Indians frequented the High Sierra and would meet in the Sierra to trade things like Salt for Obsidian.

Our next leg would take us  down to the South Fork of the Kings River from which we would follow it's wandering path out to the John Muir Trail and find ourselves traveling a well marked route again.  However,  we were allowed one last  backcountry slice of heaven to enjoy while off trail.   A little lake part way down from Cartridge that we like to call Dee's lake.   In otherwards,  it has no name on a map.   I am sure every off trail adventurer has special names for nameless lakes they find ....we have one for my daughter too, that she found for us one trip...but that's another story for later!     Coming upon this particular lake,  we realized how little time  in the real backcountry we had left.   Soon we'd be  joining the hordes on the John Muir Trail.   As we'd discover in the next couple of days though,  there aren't that many out on the John Muir Highway either as it's frequently reality we would see  only a couple of folks on our way back to our car.   We didn't know that at the time though and wanted to savor what true solitude we had left,  so we actually took a half day off and set up camp  a few hours before we normally would.    Good choice on our part as this lovely little lake had just enough views to help us thoroughly enjoy the afternoon taking a cold water dip,  reading and exploring.   At night we had the most absolute flat spot to sleep on....ah heaven!
View of last lake before dropping down to the river,  we followed the left shore and got to the outlet shown mid left of pic,  and dropped off the edge of the world...and down about 1,200 ft to the river
Not too shabby a place to spend our last "off trail" night.

Lovely hillside of Bigelow's Sneezeweed
In the morning light,  we packed up and headed on down to the South Fork of the Kings River.   As we dropped off the cliff,  we initially shared the trail with magnificent fields of Bigelow's Sneezeweed.   Then the "trail"  got hot,  dusty and steep as we crisscrossed down  multiple switchbacks in the hillside.   As it turns out,  we had a bit longer than we thought til we hit trail.   Not only did we have more elevation drop to negotiate getting down to the river,  but once at the river, we encountered the dreaded talus fields.   Any backpacker with any miles on their feet knows the term "talus field."  Talus is large chunks of granite piled high and wide,  oh my.   Hopping from boulder to boulder,  balancing on the balls of your feet,  grabbing with your hands and hoisting yourself over huge boulders and slabs of granite,  pack and all for hours at a time is not exactly fun.   Well, in the beginning it is,  but when you go for loooonnnngggg stretches of talus....then get through the dreaded field and in a few minute start another's a lot of work.     Getting from where you hit the river til you get out to the John Muir Trail gives you lots of practice on talus fields as you hit several large ones!   Finally  though,  we came through  the last talus field and were meandering through lightly forested flattish terrain following a faint use trail, when suddenly in front of me my path was blocked!   Oh no,  did I go the wrong way?   I looked up quickly trying to puzzle out what someone was obviously trying to tell me,  and realized the message was not for was for travelers on the John Muir Trail,  trying to keep them on the JMT and not sidetracked onto the "trail"  I was on!  Hallelujah!   After over 25 miles of off trail travel,  getting slightly lost at least once,  climbing terrain fit only for a mountain goat at least once,  misreading my topo map at least once and sliding almost out of control on steep loose scree while being somewhere I probably shouldn't have been at least once....we were back on a real marked trail!
See the faint use trail mid pic and the blockade keeping folks from sidetracking accidentally
    The rest of our trip was thankfully anticlimactic.   It was wonderful being back on a marked trail.   Not having to navigate constantly and search for landmarks and check map and compass every few minutes was incredibly relaxing.    Of the 3-4 days we had left to hike,  we enjoyed amazing views most every foot of the way back,  extravagant pockets of wildflowers,  and lovely well engineered maintained trails.   No more  routefinding mishaps,  no more sliding down steep chutes trying not to fling off into space and drop into a lake pack and all,  no more meltdowns caused by hunger and  exhaustion,   no more endless talus fields to wear us out.   What we had instead was an incredible feeling of exhilaration for accomplishing all that we accomplished  and a few days more to unwind and enjoy the comforts of trail hiking while still in the wilderness before we had to face the real challenges of being back in the rat race of traffic and deadlines.
Gary drinking in the view
Camping in a windbreak with fabulous views facing out
Storm brewing that gave us a great show!
A real trail to follow....
Dee on Pinchot, happy to beat the storm over the pass
Looking back at Pinchot and happy to be lower down
Views every step of the way back
A well engineered trail....with a suspension bridge!

Hope you enjoyed reading this tale as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Next story....

Gosh I'm having fun with this new story coming up!  The story is two thirds done.   The photos are two thirds done being scanned and ready to be uploaded into the story.   As I walk the steps we took all over again and look at the high country scenery we so enjoyed,  the stunning beauty of this magnificent spot just beckons me back!  I'll be taking you along very shortly.   Here's a sneak preview of the country I'll be taking you through soon!  (click on any photos on my blog to enlarge them!)

Looking South towards Pinchot Pass

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

High Sierra Route Sunset (Pic from my next story to be posted soon!)

Bag Nights

Laying atop a tall mountain gazing up at the stars
Hearing  breezes and night sounds near and far

The day has been hard and though quite long
I feel fulfilled and fear nothing wrong

Thoughts wander back to dainty flowers underfoot
And how carefully I wove thru them avoiding each with my boot

And about the steep trail leading up to the pass
Then over the top,  views disappearing woefully fast

The dip in the lake,   the clouds overhead
All these thoughts fly by while I’m snuggled in bed

The eves gentle breezes sough across my cool face
Thoughts becoming wispy,  becoming spotty as lace

All the days exertions of body and mind
Finally allow me to slowly,  slowly unwind

And before I even know it,  I’ve drifted far far away
Slumbering peacefully on til the sun’s rays overhead announce the new day.

Friday, May 11, 2012

The Bear Facts!

El Capitan Yosemite National Park

It's August 1997, and I've signed up for a three day seminar in Yosemite National Park titled "The Bear Facts."   By the end of the three days, I will realize a better title might have been "72 Hours in the Life of a Bear Biologist."    Julie and Kate have decided to put this seminar on for the first time to bravely introduce a handful of lucky people to a closer look than most people get at Yosemite's black bears,  and the policies used to "manage" them.

Fitting I should come across this guy in Mammoth just b4 the seminar
We get to learn exactly where these valley bears sleep and eat... in some instances mere feet from where the millions of annual visitors travel.  We learn how they are tracked and measured and their unique history as Yosemite Valley bears.  We get a real feel for what it's like being a bear biologist trying to keep these bears alive... and the valley visitors safe.   By day we get our special education and "behind the scenes" hikes.  By night we set a bear trap in hopes of getting a real intimate look at a darted sleeping bear.

At the end of the seminar,  the bottom line for me is,  I'm really glad we didn't catch a bear after all!  Looking at the empty unsprung trap,  I first stood there feeling a little deflated that I wouldn't get the chance to have my hands on one of North America's most magnificent creatures.   I wouldn't get to measure,  weigh and smell the musky fur of a sleeping black bear,  Ursus Americanus.   I wouldn't get to pull open his mouth with my hands and see his huge teeth and feel his gums  (although we did get to handle skins and skulls).   I wouldn't get to stretch his powerful limbs and feel his gigantic pads.   But now I realize,  I also wouldn't  be bringing that one tricked and trapped bear one step closer to being killed.   For that's why they trap the bears in the first place in Yosemite National see which ones have successfully adapted to human habituations,  and euthanize the chronic offenders.

Thrilled to learn what it's like being a park employee,  and spending several days in the park with a couple of them learning from their vast experience was fulfilling enough.

I have taken several classes in Yosemite such as The Bear Facts and Birds of Prey and Animal Tracking.  Classes are offered through the Yosemite Conservancy.
Go to  events then click on the calendar at the bottom of the page to find something you too might enjoy!
Learning about radio collars and a whole lot more....
Checking the bear trap

Smearing peanut butter on the bag full of goodies to lure the bear into the trap

A type of owl not often spotted in the Valley...just outside our ranger's house

Evidence on a car window

Wonder what goodies were left for a bear  in this car parked in the wilderness area parking lot