southern most pass on the Muir Trail and the highest at 13,200', if
you don't include geting over the shoulder of Mt. Whitney to exit at
Whitney Portal.
The original Muir trail, completed in 1916 did not attempt to go over
this pass, which is really just a notch in a 1000' cliff. The original
Muir Trail veered east one valley and passed over two less impossible
passes to end up at Tyndall Creek. Forrester Pass allows Passage to
Tyndall Creek directly, cutting distance and the number of climbs
needed. But, to build a trail suitable for pack animals, or even for
hikers down the north face of this cliff is a daunting task. But, they
surveyed the route well and by the late 1930's the trail was
completed. The approach from the north is a long gentle rise from
Vidette Meadow at 9800' through meadows, stands of timber and feld
fields to gain the notch. Other than back breaking work and
imaginative route location it is an "ordinary" trail. But, when you
now gain the notch (notice I am no longer calling it a pass) and look
down the south side there is no slope, just a 1000' near vertical
drop. The trail climbs up from the notch 10' to avoid the chute that
drops from the bottom of the notch, then switchbacks on constructed
rockwalls resting on irregularities of the cliff face. These first few
switchbacks are only about 20-30' long as that is all there is room
for. Then the trail traverses across the chute about 40' below the
notch and follows a ledge on the face of the cliff that has been
widened thru the construction of more rock wall supports. Finally,
about 400 vertical feet below the level of the notch the slope lessens
a bit from vertical and a more traditional trail thru rock fields sees
you to the bottom of the cliff.
Sally and I knew this pass had a reputation, but I thought it was due
to it's height, not it's gravity defying construction.
We were up early, 5:30, and on the trail by 6:45. The first couple
miles took us through stands of timber, open meadows and rock fields.
The meadows were heavily frosted, showing we were not just being
wooses about the cold. The eastern peaks of the Sierra Crest kept the
sun off us until some time past nine, a welcome relief compared to
climbing in the blazing sun.
At about 11,300 feet we passed the dad and sons we had seen camping
illegally at Bullfrog Lake. They had pulled off the trail onto a small
level spot to spend the night. They were up and preparing to leave. As
I walked by I noticed smoke rising from a campfire. In the Sierra
campfires are not allowed above 10,000' and signs remind every hiker
on the trail as they pass the 10,000 ft level.
To put it mildly, I get really pissed off when I see people breaking
the rules. I get possessive about these mountains. The rules are there
to try to preserve what is here. Building a fire requires firewood and
above 10,000' it is scarce. Combine that with the 100's of hikers that
camp in these valleys each week and the short growing season and you
have a recipe for destruction.
I fumed up the trail, counting to 10 over and over telling myself not
to be angry with him when he overtook us but to calmly remind him of
the rules.
We climbed into a beautiful glacial circue, then climbed it's headwall
and exited to the right to gain the ridge to the notch. The
lawbreaking son of a bitch and his kids caught up with us about
12,000'. I had calmed down a bit so we struck up a conversation. At
what seemed an appropriate point when we were talking about how
beautiful the mountains were I simply and calmly said "you know that
fires are not allowed above 10,000'". He replied a little sheepishly
with a tinge of defensiveness "I know" and I let it go at that. He was
from Washigton DC. I guess the city that makes the laws doesn't
impress upon it's natives that you are also supposed to follow them.
Anyway, Sally and I continued up another 400 vertical feet over half a
mile, then stopped for a drink of water. This is when we discovered we
had left her water bottle back at the last stop. I ran the half mile
down to get the bottle, and sure enough it was sitting on a rock next
to the stream meandering thru the heather. I quickly walked back up,
shouldered my pack and presently caught up with Sally. We crested the
pass at about 2:30, stopped to talk with a teacher leading a group of
kids on a 10 day 100 mile trip, then descended the clinging trail. At
the bottom of the cliff we found water so we stopped and cooked some
afternoon spaghetti, then continued another mile or two down until we
ducked off the trail and found a place to camp among the boulders near
a lake at 12,000'. We spent a chilly evening reading and playing the
ukulele before crawling under the down quilt for the night. It was our
third night of camping, and luckily, we had manuvered ourselves into
camping alone each night, a difficult task when hiking on the JMT.
Chuck
No comments:
Post a Comment