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 then....at 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 this....you 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 pass....off 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 called...in 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 one....it'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 me...it 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!

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

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.

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 Park...to 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.  http://www.yosemiteconservancy.org/
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

The Grave

Sequoia National Park Backpack, Mineral King, Sawtooth Trailhead. 
Just under 50 miles (plus whatever miles traveled in 9 Lakes Basin)
Mostly on trail...except 9 Lakes Basin & Sawtooth Pass "use trail"

Chased out of Nine Lakes Basin for the second time in two days due to thunder and lightning just seemed like an ill omen for this trip.  However, Gary and I just don't seem to get the message sometimes....:)  If you are the kind of person who likes to be "out there" in the weather, energized by  elements totally out of your control, hiking by topographical map and compass....getting by on only what you can carry on your back for shelter, food and clothing ...well,  you just don't always take the hint that maybe you should be turning around,  retreating and throwing in the towel.   I'm almost always glad I didn't throw in the towel...as in this trip that took us all over but where we wanted to go!

Nine Lakes Basin beckoned to us for some time before we actually planned a trip there.  Seemed like an easy adventure...on trail most of the trip.  Arriving at 9 Lakes Basin in a couple of days whereupon we would meander happily off trail up the canyon oohing and ahing over each of the gorgeous 9 lakes we explored.  I envisioned sunny skies and green grasses dotting the lovely flat approaches to each lake, and an idyllic relaxing lunch by a charming lake each day.  I'd be taking pictures to later look back on, while Gary sat quietly reading his book.   Premade mental images don't always pan out though....

Sunny trail out of Sawtooth towards Timber Gap

And so, after driving 25 twisting and turning miles on the narrow Mineral King road, we donned our packs and set out from the Mineral King trailhead at 7,800 feet  in Sequoia National Park on a lovely sunny day in August of 1999.   Our first  night's destination would be over beautiful Timber Gap and on towards Pinto Lake.

The first few miles actually turned out to be quite hot, and more than we bargained for.  An uphill  unrelenting climb of 2.2 miles took us from the Sawtooth parking area at 7,800 feet, to Timber Gap at 9,400 feet.  That amount of elevation gain is not that much really...unless you are in intense heat.   Ah, the shade of Timber Gap was just perfect for a quick snack and to rest our hot tired feet!  And, as you can see from the picture, just as we reached Timber Gap, the hot sun gave up it's battle to foglike clouds.    Never anywhere else we have hiked have we experienced such swiftly changing elements!  Each trip to Mineral King has astounded us....foglike clouds can roll in and roll out every few minutes with a rapidity that is just amazing!  You just have to have your camera at the ready to capture any of it!

Clouds rolling over Timber Gap

Once on Timber Gap, we began a mostly shallow descent to Cliff Creek Crossing at roughly 7,000 feet.   At one point we walked a very interesting knife edge section of trail with dropoffs on either side of our narrow footpath.   From Timber Gap to Cliff Creek is mostly a treed walk, but don't let that fool you, this is quite an interesting walk.  Once across Cliff Creek,  we began climbing once again in what could be a grueling 4,560 foot climb up to Black Rock Pass at 11,600 feet.   However, we put down roots for the night near tiny little Pinto Lake and spread out our gear under the stars enjoying Mineral King's amazing weather displays.  If you've spent any time on the Coast in the fog....imagine the Coastal Fog rolling right up a hill at you...then 10 minutes later simply disappating and leaving you with a silky black sky overhead blanketed with stars.  Then....ten minutes later watching the fog roll right back in and over the top of you!  Words cannot describe the beauty of this phenomena that I have seen nowhere else like I have in Mineral King.

Near Pinto Lake  on the approach to Black Rock Pass

Hiking thru fields of  lovely "Bigelow's Sneezeweed"

The next morning, refreshed and energized by a sound sleep under the stars, we packed up and headed out once more for unknown territory.  Most backpackers go to great lengths seeking out new trails they've never traveled, and this was one such trip for us.   After a mile or so, we reached Black Rock Pass, and stayed a bit to savor views in all directions.   However,  the trail soon called, so off we went before long and in a short day's hike stopped at Five Lakes Basin for the night.   Five Lakes Basin is home to one of a handful of backcountry ranger huts in the Sequoia Kings Canyon backcountry.   However, the ranger was out on patrol and the hut locked up, so we had the lake we chose all to ourselves for the night.   Perfect!   Solitude is one of the sparkling gems of backcountry travel and we feel quite lucky when we find it!

A thick blanket of clouds had rolled in....

After another idyllic night in the wilderness, we finally were close enough to strike out in the morning for Nine Lakes Basin!  In fact, a little after noon we were strolling up to the first lake in the Basin.    Above treeline though,  I started to get concerned about the weather during lunch.  We huddled down next to a huge boulder for our lunch, and by the time we were done with lunch it was clearly obvious we were going to be chased out of the basin.   A thick wall of clouds had rolled in and drops were starting to fall as the crack of thunder could be heard in the distance.   From the first lake at about 10,400 feet, the basin  is above treeline with the exception of a small grove of Foxtail Pines standing just a few hundred yards east of the first lake.  Foxtail pines are thought to possibly be among the oldest trees in the Sierra, just behind the famous Bristlecone Pines.  Being basically above treeline near these sparse Foxtails, it is most definately not where one wants to be when hearing the crack of thunder rolling in.   So, we grudgingly packed up lunch and headed back down the Big Arroyo Canyon to find a thicker grove of sheltering trees to sit out the storm.

A break in the storm allowed for a quick shot of camp

Interestingly enough, we hiked in and out of sun on the way back down.  And, we had enough time to set up a hasty camp once we found a cozy spot in the trees to feel safe waiting out the storm.    As it turned out though, this would be camp for the night, and we would not be headed back up to Nine Lakes that day.  The storm raged for hours!  Luckily, Gary and I had each brought books and we whiled away the hours absorbed in our books....in between gasping over the cracks of thunder coming closer!    After spending these long hours in our bivy sacks, this trip might have been the beginning of the end of our bivy camping however.  Bivy sacks are like waterproof envelopes that you slide over your sleeping bags.   And a good bivy will have a hoop overhead to keep the fabric off your face.  You stay nice and dry....but there is only room for one person in each bivy so talking to your partner is muffled by each of your little "mini tents."  We have long since gone back to tents and are much happier.

Eventually, the storm passed and we were able to open our bivies and enjoy the night sky at least.  In the morning we packed up and wandered back up canyon again to Nine Lakes Basin.   With an eye on the distant clouds,  we decided not to take the morning sun for granted, and we packed our little lightweight silnylon daypack, stashed our packs behind some rocks and scurried up into the Basin.   Oh what a lovely spot we found!  Each lake a gem, each section of Basin between the lakes a wonder to explore in and of itself.  We could indeed have spent days enjoying this amazing spot.   We moseyed from lake to lake oohing and ahing over the deep turquoise blue of the largest lakes just as I had envisioned, and delighted in the easy travel up the canyon that we had all to ourselves.   Once again though,  the weather would chase us out.  Clouds moved rapidly in,  and as we decided to head back to our packs we heard the first clap of thunder in the distance.  Making a hasty retreat once again, we vowed to come back and spend more time here...it would not be this trip however.

Clouds rolling in over Nine Lake Basin

Taking a last look back  at enshrouded Nine Lakes Basin 

Taking a last look back up at Nine Lakes Basin afforded us no views as the clouds had socked in the Basin solidly.  Knowing this was goodbye for this trip, we headed yet one more time back down canyon towards the safety of the trees.   It being clearly obvious to us that we were destined to put further exploration of Nine Lakes Basin off to another trip,  we pushed off rapidly down canyon not even bothering to try and stay close to the Basin as we had the day before.   Again, once we got a little lower, we had some intermittent sun, but eventually we got caught in the storm with dark wet clouds sending a clear message that we better find a place to berth and batten down the hatches for the night!   Not wanting to be in sparse tree cover, we headed off trail into the forest to the right of us...to the left was a raging creek crossing and sloping terrain that would present no good safe camp spots.   As the rain started falling I got a little frantic and started looking for any spot flat enough to throw down our tarp and bivies.   We had played long enough in Nine Lakes Basin that the daylight was fast leaving us as well, and so without looking around much at our surroundings, but simply spotting a flat spot to sleep on, we unfurled our tarp and quickly set up camp and dove into our bags.   It was late enough, that at least this night we would not spend too many extra hours in our bivies.   But, all night the storm did rage, thunder clapped, lightning thrust fiery arms here and there in the wilderness around us.

Taking pics here and there...

Come morning though...the sun was once again shining  and everything was fresh and crisp and clear.   We lazed around a bit, letting the warm morning sun dry our gear.  Gary did indeed get a chance to read a bit, and  I got to take  my camera and enjoy a chance to take portraits of the freshly watered flowers dotting the forest floor.   As I wandered, I took pics here and there and really focused on my macro or close up shots.  Thus, I wasn't particularly looking at my general surroundings as I crept from flower to flower.  Suddenly though my eyes roved over something I just couldn't make sense of.   A pile of rocks in the loose duff of the forest floor.  But not just a big pile of rocks.,...a flat pile of rocks....no, not a flat pile of rocks... but a layer of rocks.  I stopped looking for flowers and let my camera filled hand drop to my side.  As I cocked my head sideways trying to figure out just what I was looking at,  I gasped,  and yelled for Gary to come look!   He came and puzzled much as I had....cocking his head and looking quizzically for a few moments before exclaiming .... A GRAVE!"

The Grave

My photo does not do justice to what we found that day in the Big Arroyo Canyon of Mineral King.  The rocks were exactly a rectangle about six feet by four feet.  They had been brought from the creek bed  a few hundred yards away and purposely placed here to lie through the ages far from their birthing place.  The soil that held this bed of rocks had sunk about 8 inches so it almost appeared to look like someone had dug a shallow resting spot for the rocks and then placed them in the rectangular hole dug for them.  However, on closer inspection...it was clearly obvious, they had once been piled on top of the fertile forest floor and gradually little by little, and year by year,  had sunk to their current level...that of being almost level with the forest floor.   There was no mistaking what we were looking at.   A very long time ago, someone had buried a friend or loved one, or maybe just an acquaintance, or maybe an enemy here!  And through the years, the body had decomposed, lowering the rocks bit by bit until they no longer rested on top of the land, but nestled down into the surrounding soil.  I would later talk to a friend who had been a backcountry ranger of Sequoia-Kings Canyon for several seasons.  She told me the story of two sheepherders who used to live in the nearby Big Arroyo of Mineral King.  One died of an illness and the other had buried him in a known grave near their cabin.   Noone really knew what happened to the shepherd left behind that had buried the first...and neither do we really,  but I am guessing I know exactly where he was buried.  By whom he was buried, and what befell him will probably always be a mystery however.

Dee just plain having fun!

The rest of our trip was anticlimatic.  No raging storms,  no sleeping near old graves.   However, we explored closely this incredible area on our hike out.   Hiking past the old cabin in the Big Arroyo,  we followed the river down and eventually turned West and hiked up beautiful Lost Canyon.   Climbing up to lonely and austere Columbine Lake we spent another lovely night in the wilderness before going over Sawtooth Pass.  The trail over Sawtooth Pass is an unmaintained unofficial trail, thus not well engineered, nor is it marked.   The trail over the pass is however, fairly easy to follow as it is well used.   Once over the top though, the fun really begins.  The sandy west side of the pass leading back to the trailhead gets quite deep and steep.  At one point Gary and I were running and pushing off into giant leaps downward, feeling much like we were on the low gravity of the moon!  Each step was a  huge springing step down the hill.  Yes, I did catapult myself into a huge slide at one point...landing ignominiously on my bum!  However, it was just too much fun and I sprang back up and took some more giant leaps!  Sawtooth's deep sand provides  great cushion for falls.   And for the first time on our entire trip on this last day, we finally saw other hikers.   As we careened past them on our downhill slolam course,  Gary and I remarked quietly how lucky we were to be going downhill in that deep sand and not trying to slog up through it.   We have since been back to Sawtooth Pass....but never uphill on the sandy west side!

We have returned to Mineral King many times to hike over the years.  A close friend first told me about this area and that it was her favorite.  It has steadily risen in rank each trip to become one of mine.  Go explore Mineral King and find the most fascinating weather in the Sierra,  wonderful wildflowers, perhaps a grave or two....and maybe it will become one of your favorites too.

Hard to get lost in the Sierra Nevada with landmarks like Sawtooth Peak guiding you...

Looking up towards Columbine Basin

Gary playing in Columbine Lake

We always manage to find the most amazing flat spots...

View from Sawtooth Pass "trail." Notice on the top left, the dark brown smooth sloping but flat mountain. The smooth surface is typical of the older non glaciated sections of the High Sierra peaks.  At one time in distant geological history,  before ice and weather etched the peaks, the Sierra was formed of rolling hills. The one you see in the top left being a piece of what was once one of the rolling hills representative of the original Sierra peaks.

Dee on Sawtooth Pass, Mineral King, Sequoia

Dee on the top of the steep Sawtooth Descent...still on fairly hardpack sand...

Gary negotiating the steep westside of Sawtooth Pass 

Dominating Sawtooth Peak from the Westside

End of the Trail.

My Photos

Almost here....my next story.  Someone asked me today if the pictures I post are from the trips I talk about, or borrowed from another trip, or taken from somewhere else.   So, the answer is yes, the pictures you see in each story belong to that story!  I have loved to take pictures as long as I can remember and while so many are in paper form and not digital,  they simply need to be scanned and voile!  So,  shortly you will see a new story upon these pages...photos are already scanned and being inserted....and from that trip!

Injured in the Backcountry, or "The Curse of McGee!"

John Muir Wilderness Backpack 
Just under 50 mile moderate 5 day backpack with an approximately 2 mile section of off trail travel. 

"OW! #@*&a;!!!!!"
Upon hearing his oath, I spun and quickly surveyed Gary to see what injury he had incurred.   Asking him if he was okay, and quickly assessing him head to toe, I was instantly relieved not to see blood spurting out, or bones sticking up anywhere.   Gary had slipped down a steep little section of creek bank on slick wet granite while filling his water bottles, but seemed perfectly fine. I complacently turned back to what I was doing ... I wouldn't be so complacent later.

Ever wonder if you got "way out there" and got hurt, what you would do?   How resourceful would you be?   How would you get out of there?   Well, we got to find out one backpack trip in Aug of 2005.   Off trail in the John Muir Wilderness of California, Gary tore the meniscus on the inside of his left knee.   For those who have been unlucky enough to do this, it can be an excruciating and incapacitating injury.

A meniscus tear is a common knee injury.   The meniscus is a rubbery, C-shaped disc that cushions your knee.   Each knee has two menisci (plural of meniscus) one at the outer edge of the knee and one at the inner edge.   The menisci keep your knee steady by balancing your weight across the knee.   A torn meniscus can prevent your knee from working right.   And a meniscus injury is definately not one you want to have happen in the backcountry of the High Sierra, miles from your car and civilization.

Most trips for us are begun on the west side of the Sierra.  Not for any other reason than that the drive to a trailhead is much shorter for us since we live west of the Sierra.    However, simply because we usually do start on the westside, this trip we decided to take a much longer jaunt in the car over to the eastside so that we could journey up trailheads we had never explored.    After studying my maps exhaustively, I presented three potential trips to Gary to look over and decide upon.   And he picked the one that was my first choice as well.   We were all set.   By the night before we left,  maps were made on my computer with our trip highlighted in yellow.   We packed all our food, repackaging everything in baggies so as to fit more supplies in less space per usual.   Checklists were checked and double checked because if you suddenly remember twenty miles down the trail that you forgot something like TP or your toothbrush, there is no running over to your local 7-11.  You just do without!

And, we had a dusy of a trip planned!  The first day would be on trail, then the next day in the area of Big McGee Lake, we would detour around the lake and make our way up a cliff face that would potentially have a very old use trail to help us navigate...and if not, then map and compass would be our guides.  Once on top of the cliff, we planned on camping for the night, then heading down into Hopkins Lake Basin...a lovely spot in the Sierra we had seen a few pics of and gazed at on the map countless times but had never been to.   From Hopkins Lake Basin, we had a very high mileage trip planned that would take us on and off the John Muir Trail as we explored various basins and lakes traveling in a big giant loop North and then East back to our car.   All told, our trip would be close to 100 miles.   Best laid plans...

We actually were able to leave town the night before after packing.  And we got as far as the middle of crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains before making a late hasty car camp.  Early in the morning we had our last civilized breakfast, donned our packs in the trailhead parking lot and taking one last look in the car to make sure we left absolutely nothing in the car that had any scent to attract bears, we locked up and headed up the trail.

We shared the trailhead with a pack station called McGee Creek Pack Station,  thus we followed a well made and marked trail for the first part of the morning.  Many backpackers bemoan having to share the trails with horsepackers as horses turn the dirt to fine dust that coats everything as you hike, but,  horse packers also spare nothing in clearing trails leaving beautifully maintained clear trails to hike on.  So, we enjoyed an easily navigated trail all the way to our first lake, Steelhead lake.   Here we doffed our packs and set up camp for the evening on a tiny little bluff above the lake... far enough to get us the required few hundred feet from the lakeshore...a requirement standard in most parks and national forests made in an effort to leave the fragile lakeshore ecosystem intact and enjoyable for all those who follow...and high enough off the lake to get us a bit of late afternoon sun.  That first night was not the most spectacular campsite as I prefer wide open views, but, we had the place to ourselves which created quite an idyllic spot to unwind.  First night camps are often not the best, as it can take a day or so to reach the true high country, but anytime out in the backcountry by yourselves is always quite special!

In the morning sun, we dried our gear which is usually a little wet from dew, and headed on up the trail again.   I don't remember this piece of trail having a whole lot of uphill...but there must have been some as I remember being very grateful for a nice granite bench midmorning to drop my pack on and slowly sink down for a rest!   Before long though we had reached our jumping off spot ...Big McGee Lake.  We wound our way slowly around the north shore, stopping frequently to try and guess where we'd be climbing up the wall on the opposite side.

Somewhere on the left wall, we'd be climbing over...

It often seems so impossible, that there is actually a way to get up to the top when you are looking at what appears to be quite vertical cliffs.  Somehow though, as you get closer, the cliffs soften and start appearing less steep, and eventually your route presents itself as quite doable.  We were however in suspense quite some time as we  had to get around Big McGee and then another smaller tiny little lake just up canyon from Big McGee before we could find our path.

Big McGee Lake

 Eventually though, we were around the water and bending our necks back staring up at the top of the cliffs.  Then, as luck would have it, we actually managed to find a bit of the old use trail to start us off.   So we started climbing.    Old "use trails" are not nearly so nicely engineered as latter day trails that have been dynamited and engineered exquisitely.    No, use trails are just that...used spots in the terrain.

A bit of old use trail on Hopkin's Pass

Signs of another traveler in McGee...

One person...perhaps an early native american...or maybe an animal, explored their way up a cliff or mountain.  Then another person perhaps followed that first person's occasional footprints.  And eventually, there is a bit of a worn path where fragile alpine plants give up the battle, and rocks get kicked out of the way, and dirt packs down by years of being stomped on.   There often is not much tell tale sign of the path except intermittent dirt patches well packed down while often there is a fairly decent albeit narrow dirt trail to show you the way.  The trail we found on this day's journey was somewhere in the middle.  There were obvious worn pieces of path...and then spots where we ran out of trail, like a game trail petering out,  causing us to stop and scratch our heads as we looked high and low to see if we somehow wandered off the trail or if it was still up ahead and we just needed to locate it.  And not being an engineered trail with long switchbacks to save your legs, this trail was steep with narrow short switchbacks necessitating we rest our burning calve and thigh muscles frequently.  All the while, we both kept silent watch on a steep overhead cornice that we were just hoping upon hope would not block our path with an impassable sheer vertical block of ice right at the top!

Hopkin's Pass Cornice, looked more passable the closer we got 

Finally though we got right up to the bottom edge of the cornice and Lo and Behold....a final switchback taking us off to the side of the cornice and over the top of Hopkins Pass!  YEA!  Once on top we dropped our packs to enjoy the fruits of our labors and savor the view and some well deserved snacks!

Dee (top) and Gary (bottom) enjoying the well desrved view!

It was once we headed down off  south side of the saddle we were on that we started following the creek Gary was destined to meet.   Passing Upper Hopkins Lakes, the saddle fed into a wide shallow bowl with Hopkins Creek running roughly down the middle.   Stopping to fill our water bottles, depleted after the climb...is when Gary slipped on the slick granite and tore his knee.  It would only be after we got home to a Dr that we would realize the extent of the damage.   But, the pain and swelling let us know right away that something was amiss, and we used our bandanas to create a makeshift support wrap. Erroneously  figuring a good night's sleep would fix his knee right up, we searched for a camping spot for the night.   Lower Hopkins Lake had been our destination, however, the downhill hike to the lake was out of the question, so we found another idyllic little spot at the edge of the trees and enjoyed our view of the lovely meadows around us.  In the morning, Gary's knee was no better.  Darn!  Now faced with a decision...we tossed around our options. First off, we could turn around and go back the way we came.  Problem was, though we had actually come up a pretty nice use trail, it was a steep climb with a little bit of negotiating. Also...no backpacker likes to backtrack! And...no backpacker likes to jettison a trip.  I would have supported Gary in whatever decision he made though, but he chose to continue.  Like I said, we had no idea his knee was as damaged as it was til much later, or we might have chosen a different option.  We just kept thinking his knee would improve "the next day."   So, we looked at our maps and weighed the trail options.  Our original trail of 100+ miles, partially off trail, was OUT! However, there were shorter versions of our trip available that would keep us now on maintained trails. So, we packed up and headed off down to intersect the Mono Creek Trail...and from there, to hike on out to the John Muir Trail.     As we hiked on, our days were slow now, as Gary was very careful not to twist or turn his knee.  Nights, his knee was propped carefully on his extra clothes.  Every morning his knee was wrapped with bandanas.  And, after breakfast and packing, Gary hobbled down the trail with walking stick in hand to lean on.  Creek crossings were extremely problematic as slick stones present challenges for non handicapped hikers.  But, we managed to make headway.  Once on the John Muir Trail we made better time and hiked steadily north ignoring all side trails.  Bemoaning our inability of doing any off trail exploration or side trips, yet still we were thrilled to be in the High Sierra Backcountry!  We enjoyed Pocket Meadow and a favorite secret campsite just south of Silver Pass

Dee enjoying our secret spot south of Silver Pass

and camping near the John Muir Trail before dropping down towards Tully Hole, a deep grassy seemingly enclosed bowl. We were amazed not to run into any other hikers for days. After oohing and ahing over a huge wasp nest on the trail,

Wasp "Paper" Nest

we continued down the trail and entered Tully Hole. Tully Hole and Horse Heaven pastures evoke images of trappers and native americans spending long ago summer days using the Tully for conditioning their stock.  Letting them graze on the tall sweet grasses as they set their traps,  made arrowheads from obsidian flints and sat around campfires laughing and telling tall tales.   As it turns out, Tully Hole is not the enclosed bowl it first appears to be,  it actually has three trail accesses...the John Muir Trail South and the John Muir Trail north....and the route we took out to the East and McGee pass.  The next section of trail was clearly seldom traveled, and in the next couple of days as we headed East towards McGee pass, we would wonder why not!   A more diversified terrain you won't find in the Sierra.  More solitude you won't find.  And we were priviledged to travel by extremely beautiful lakes, meadows and plateaus on our journey back out of the backcountry.

Climbing out of Tully Hole we climbed from 9,500 feet at Tully Hole to elev to 11,900 feet at McGee Pass, also known as Red Slate Pass.  Along the way, we passed an obvious spot Native Americans had stopped in their travels routinely as there were tons of obsidian chips and a few arrowheads littering the ground.

Should you be lucky enough to find this lovely spot too, please leave the arrowheads for the next lucky hiker to ooh and ah over!

Somewhere before McGee pass Gary's knee was really bothering him.  We spied a lovely little peak with a flat spot on top just big enough for a groundsheet and bags, and incredible views...and a nice little stream below.   After going back and forth on whether we should take advantage, we finally decided to take the rest of the day off here... one of only a handful of days we've ever taken as a layover day.  We just could not march through this lovely spot enjoying it only for the few minutes it took to get from one side to the other.  As it turned out, we made the best decision, for in the morning we entered the lovely, but austere and rocky McGee Pass and canyon area.

The lovely but austere and inhospitable McGee canyon area

 It would be awhile before we had views again like what we had had...except on the pass itself.  Even still, the trail was absolutely stunning the next day as it wound in and out and around the McGee Pass area...but would not have made the most hospitable camping spot. And, Gary really needed the rest for his knee. Pain was his constant companion, and the care it takes to navigate the backcountry while injured had been taking it's toll.

Once over McGee pass, Gary and I enjoyed the wild volcanic colors and the twisting and turning trail and actually made pretty good time. This might have contributed to Gary's downfall later on....

As we were getting closer to the car, perhaps a half mile away, Gary suggested I hurry on to the car and open it up and cool it off so he could get comfortable soon as he got there. I didn't see the warning signs. I had watched him struggling with the pain and trying to keep his knee immobile as much as possible and just figured he was drained. In reality, Gary had something much more serious going on.  But, not realizing this, and knowing we were following a well marked path we had been on a few short days before, I left him to hike out as he asked, and I sped on down the trail to the car.  The car was insufferably hot having been sitting in the hot sun all day.  But by the time Gary arrived, the car was open and windows down and the hatch up so he could take off his pack and sit a bit.  I got excited when I saw him, and told him I had everything ready...but my excitement turned to fear that twisted my guts when I looked at his face.  His glazed eyes and pasty skin made it clearly obvious he was on his last reserves and was not doing well.  With his not very maneuverable knee, Gary had slipped once again in a final creek crossing just short of the parking lot and twisted his knee all over again.   It is a testament to his innate determination that he was able to get back to the car on his own!   I helped him get his pack off and fall back into the back of the car to sit a minute and recover.

 It was then his eyes rolled up in his head and he left me!  The parking lot was empty except for a carful of 3-4 college aged kids,  but I yelled at them to come help me.  By the tone in my voice, they knew to come on the run.  As soon as they got there I started telling them what I needed them to do.   I honestly did not know at this point if Gary was alive or not, but as terror stricken as I was, my years of telling others what to do in medical emergencies took over and I gave them exact directions.  We got Gary out of the car and laying flat on the pavement.  I prevented them from putting clothes or anything else under his head and explained that I worked at 911 and needed him flat with his head tilted back, and then I started checking for breathe.  It was then that I saw it....a little flutter of an eyelid.  At this point,  I just did not care what those kids were thinking or how personal a moment this was for us when I was telling Gary to stay with me!   Finally,  he opened his eyes and looked at me and I knew I had him back.

I don't know who those kids were, but without their help, I don't know what would have happened as Gary was in a pretty dire straits and needed  his airway opened up by tilting his head  back, so I will always be grateful for their help!   They waited a few minutes to make sure all was okay with us and we thanked them profusely, and they went on their way.  By this time, Gary had managed to get in the passenger seat of the car and we started driving down out of the mountains.   We discussed seeking immediate medical help,  but Gary said he really just needed food.  So we stopped at a favorite stopping place of our's,  "Whoa Nellie's Deli," and had steak salads before heading on home.  As it turns out, we should have seeked medical attention, for we later found that Gary had had a blood clot from his injury that had caused the later problems!  When we got home, the Doctor Gary saw immediately put him on blood thinners for 3 months and diagnosed the meniscus tear.    In hindsight, though we thought we were being conservative in our actions...we had risked all to complete our trip.  We ended up making a 9 day trip into 5 and cut 100 miles of on and off trail travel down to 50 miles of all on trail travel.  But, if we had it to do over again, we would be even more conservative and most certainly hike out the fastest route we could possibly find and abort the trip in seeking medical attention....maybe....:)

Don't let our experience in McGee scare you off...the  phenomenal beauty of this area justifies visiting!