Stats for the day: Below Bishop pass - South Lake, Drive to Bishop for resupply, S Lk -Dusy Basin. Total ascent 3600'. Total Descent 3100'. Total Distance 11.59 miles. 5 hrs 0 mins walking.



Friday July 23, 2010, Day 7
Daily Stats: Glacier Lake to Bishop Lk, Starting Time 7:30-Finishing Time 5:30, Distance-9.00 miles, Moving Time-5.5 hrs, total Ascent-2400', Total Descent-2725'
I knew there had to be big fish in the Sierra. These lakes were stocked a century ago, and although the lakes that are easy to get to are fished daily and the fish are small I was hoping some of the remote lakes on the SHR would be just waiting for someone with a pole to come along. Today, that someone was me!
All good fishermen hate to reveal there special fishing places. I am not by any stretch a good fisherman, I am just someone looking for a cheap meal and a good time reeling them in. But, I am still unwilling to reveal it's identity so I will refer to my spot as "the lake".
We had been hiking for a couple hours over slabs of granite, working our way over Potluck Pass and down toward Knapsack Pass. We were hiking along "the lake's" shore and met these two gentlemen. Now, I had tried fishing on the other side of the lake to no avail, but one of the gentlemen began to expound on the size and number of fish he had seen as he had walked the shore of the lake. As we stood there talking I reached up and pulled my pole from my pack, telescoped it out to it's full length and cast. All four of us (Craig was there, too) watch the lure come in as I reeled. We also saw a huge trout come racing up from the depths and hit the lure about 15 feet off shore. A quick struggle ensued, the end product being an 18" fat trout laying at our feet. The gentlemen were astounded, as was I! One of them taped the whole event of landing the behemoth, and promised to email me the footage.
Andy, Sandy and Lynn had gone ahead, so after a few fruitless casts we began to traverse the shoreline around the lake, Craig carrying the fish and I casting at regular intervals. 10 casts and 400 yards later there were 5 trout, the smallest at 14" laying on the bank. We threw them in a bag, stowed them in my pack and raced along the lake shore to try to catch Andy and company who had disappeared past the lake.
We stopped once more before leaving the lake to clean the fish, then bagged up the 10 pounds of meat and again high tailed it after the other half of the group.
We crested the ridge at the outlet of the lake with a clear view of the route ahead all the way to the next pass over treeless ground, yet saw no sign of our partners. Had we missed them along the way? Were they behind us by the outlet waiting to enjoy lunch with us? Not sure, we forged ahead for a while, looking for signs of their passage and staring at the scenery ahead trying to detect their movement. We saw nothing. So, I dropped my pack, removed the fish to a shaded rock in case a bear should happen by and rip my pack open to get to the fish in my absence, and ran back to be sure we had not passed them. 30 minutes later I returned to my pack, still without a sign of them. Gary and Craig had been scanning the countryside without a spotting, so we decided to forge ahead, as the only logical place for them to be was ahead of us. Sure enough, a few minutes
later we saw the three silhouetted against the snow up near the pass.
We quickened our pace to close the distance, but lick was running Against us. First, we got cliffed out and had to retrace our steps to avoid the precipice, then Gary's boot sole had had enough and completely fell off. Twenty minutes, a couple of yards of duct tape and Craig's handy work with a sail needle and sail thread and Gary was back on the road. We negotiated the steep talus and slabs the final 400'
to the pass where we met up, packed the fish into their own bear barrel filled with snow, wolfed down a quick lunch and then descended the pass into the upper reaches of Dusy Basin.
Rather than dropping down to the trail, we angled up and to the left through field of heather, flowers, waterfalls and ponds for the next hour, angling toward the trail. We connected about a mile and a half below Bishop Pass, then hoofed it up to the pass and down the other side to camp near the lakes in the basin below.
The fish were punishing me. The combined weight of 10 pounds of fish and 10 pounds if snow to keep them fresh made the two passes we ascended a little more painful and by the time we were at camp I was ready to get the behemoth off my back and put the weighty creatures in my belly.
The fish were way too big for any pan we had, so we set up a production line and cut the fish into steaks, the fried them in our cooking pans. Sandy turned out an excellent fish, breaded with triscuit and Goldfish cracker crumbs.
Fish are great, but they create such a mess. Oily pans, bones, backbones, heads and guts all have to be taken care of. Compared to our meals requiring only the boiling of water, they are a pain, but oh so good.
Daily Stats: Below Frozen Lake to Glacier Lake, Starting Time 8:10-Finishing Time 4:35, Distance-8.77 miles, Moving Time-4.75 hrs, total Ascent-2427', Total Descent-2447'
Sometimes it is the craziest events in a day that make you smile. They come out of nowhere, totally unexpected and completely out of context, yet make you giggle and smile for hours afterwards. More about that later, because the expected events of today also put that same smile on my face that has been plastered there since we walked away from the cars about a week ago.
We had our first bug free night last night, so we slept out to see the stars. It was glorious. The moon robbed much of the post sunset viewing, but I awoke at 4 this morning and star gazed, using my iPhone to help locate constellation and planets. I dozed off for a half an hour or so, then awoke as the eastern sky began to show the first signs of dawn. I lay in my bag for the next 45 minutes watching the earth spin toward the sun, the brightening sky causing the stars to wink out until only Sirius could be seen. I stood in my sleeping bag for the last half hour as the sun's light kissed the peaks
to our west and slowly climbed down to greet us. It was a glorious morning!
After the morning routine of breakfast and packing we headed out across the broad plain to the east to find the JMT. Once in the trail we began to see people, something that had not occurred for a few days. Two Park Rangers were checking permits as people walked by. From the questioning and conversation I felt like I was crossing some international border instead of hiking up a trail.
The next 6 miles were all on trail as we climbed up over Mather's Pass and down the other side to Palisades lake.
I knew we were sure to encounter lots of people while hiking this 6 mile stretch of the JMT. We were not disappointed. We passed 32 people before we again left the trail (10,400') and began our climb to Cirque Pass.
The climb to Cirque Pass was wonderful. 1700' up, with cliffs, loose talus, waterfalls, huge boulders, long slabs of bedrock and babbling brooks along it's steep glacial valley. Two thirds of the way up we found a gigantic boulder perched on two other boulders creating a huge room beneath that all six of us could have comfortable camped in. As always we were greeted with spectacular views when we finally crested the ridge at 12,100'. We admired the scenery, oohing and awing at the Palisades and the lakes and tarns at their bases, took pictures and had a very animated discussion about how absolutely awesome the trip
is and how incredible the terrain is we are climbing through. We clambered down the slabs of granite toward the lake in the cirque. I was in the lead on the decent, nearing the bottom when Andy Smith called from above, "Hey Chuck, what's your favorite album?" I yelled back, "Quadrophenia by the Who!"
Andy replied, "How about Who's Next?" I looked to my right and there stood a solid block of square granite standing vertically on the ledge, the spitting image of the Who's album cover for Who's Next?
The four of us men could not pass up the opportunity, and the result is attached to this post. We tried wetting the rock to complete the scene, but the water did not discolor the rock enough to show. Still, we were proud of our artwork and giggled and laughed about it the rest of the evening.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010, Day 5
Daily Stats: Marion Lake to Below Frozen Lake, Starting Time 8:10-Finishing Time 2:30, Distance-4.66 miles, Moving Time-3.0 hrs, total Ascent-2212', Total Descent-1290'
This is the day! We must ascend 12,356' Frozen Lake Pass and descend the other side. Roper, the founder of this route and the author of the guide book describes it as the crux, the most difficult part of the whole route. Steep talus and broken rock, snow choked north side coupled with an unusually heavy snow year could make today the reason we are carrying ice axes and crampons.
We leave Marion Lake by 8:30 in clouds of mosquitoes and retrace the route Gary and I found yesterday, back into magnificent Lake Basin. In the morning light it is even more beautiful than the afternoon before. We work our way up through the meadows along side the streams cut deeply into the soft soil until the meadows fade into rock fields. When we reach the last tarn 500' below the pass we stop to catch our breath (we are at 11,800') and grab a snack. As we are munching and chatting about math education we notice another party descending from the pass. We pick up our packs and continue around the tarn and begin the steep ascent up the boulder and talus fields, meeting the other party halfway up the slope. A family of four from Sacramento, mom, dad and two daughters in their twenties, they are out on a modified Sierra High Route, starting at Tuolumne and ending at Mt. Whitney, a total of about thirty days. We wish each other safe travels and continue our climb to the pass. The last 150 vertical feet is a steeply sloping upward traverse to the small notch that is the pass. Difficult? No. A lot of physical effort in the climbing, but just a steep walk up a boulder field. But . . .
What a magnificent place!! From this 12,300+' perch we see down into Lakes Basin, Cartridge Pass, back to Red and White Passes to the southwest, as far south a cross mountain and northeast to Mather Pass and Split Mountain. A light breeze and the high altitude gives us the first mosquito free moments in days. The warming sun, great views, cooling winds and lofty perch say "Lunch!!" (it is 12:30). So for the next 40 minutes we each dine on our meals, the Smiths have smoked salmon and cheese on Pilot Bread, I have Ritz with cheese or peanut butter and jam with fruit snacks and a Luna Bar while Gary enjoys Pilot Bread and gorp.
For the descent we dawn our rain pants, expecting a great glissade once we get on the steep snow 200' below the pass. We work our way down the steep talus and scree, then cross to the snow. I standing glissade the first 100', then drop to my butt to slide the remainder of the slope. The rest follow in similar fashion and soon we are gathered at the frozen lake the pass is named for. Off come the rain pants and we continue down to the next small tarn at 11,600'. Andy makes the suggestion that we stay here for the night, an excellent choice. We explore a bit to find areas between the rocks where we can each lay out a bag, then enjoy the rest of the afternoon sunning ourselves, reading and generally lazing around.
I am so excited to be spending my first night outside a tent where I can see the stars. The mosquito clouds have forced us to sleep behind netting every night until this one. We are high enough that the bugs are nearly absent.
After dinner and a stroll around the surrounding area of the cirque I am sitting, recording the days events when Gary comes up with his iPod ear buds and says, look out at the mountain scenery and listen to this. I obey, put the earbuds in and turn around to see the surrounding mountains and valleys. Suddenly, Yo Yo Ma playing Bach fills my ears as the grandeur of the High Sierra at sunset fills my eyes. The two are a perfect match and create a very moving combination. I put my own earbuds in and have been listening to the same as I write this blog as Alpine Glow turns to twilight and to night.
A waxing gibbous moon is illuminating the darkened landscape as I write, creating an enchanting and ethereal scene. Do I only have 25 days left? Where has the time gone?
Tomorrow more adventure as we intersect the John Muir Trail (JMT) and follow it for six miles before veering off it and climbing cross country 1400' over Cirque Pass.
A note about knees. I must confess I was very concerned how well my right knee would do as it had been sensitive in the weeks leading up to this trip. I am happy to report it is GREAT! No pain, even after descending 1500' of boulders and talus. I am very thankful for this and hope it just gets stronger as the weeks progress.
A note on equipment. Gary brought a pair of boots he thought would be better than his trail shoes for this route. Unfortunately, the soles are falling off, and he is tying them with cord to keep them on. These boots will not last 25 more days. We are hoping they will last two more, until our food resupply at South Lake. Gary will drive to Bishop and buy a new pair, then return so we can continue the route. This means I might get to Bishop on Saturday, in which case I can post these blogs which have been building up since the start of the SHR with no cell service to post them.
Chuck
We descend from South Lake, picking up a hitch hiker on the way. Turns out he is from Hong Kong and is in the Sierra with his wife doing the Muir Trail. He describes risking life and limb crossing the high passes of the trail choked with this year's unusually high and late melting snow pack. He is writing a guide book and making a DVD for foreign travelers to the Muir trail. Claims to have hiked it's 220 mile length 24 times.
We drop him in Bishop, stopnon for my 8 cherry turnovers at Schat's Bakery, then head north out of town for Mammoth. Mammoth is 3000' higher than Bishop which equates to 15 degrees cooler. A much more comfortable temperature to do laundry and food and gear sorting. As we climb the grade out of Bishop darned if the oil light and buzzer don't wink on again. Temp gauge looks okay, maybe a little warmer than usual, but certainly not overheated. Plenty of oil. Hmmmm. We limp into Mammoth and divide to conquer. Sally sets up camp in the Laundromat while I seek out a way to change the oil, hoping replacing the 4000 mile old oil will help the old beast. I buy a turkey basting pan at the grocery store, dumpster dive for a
used milk jug in back of a latte shop, find the oil recycling place in town and buy five quarts of 20-50 and a new filter at the NAPA. The Mammoth high School student parking lot has a piece of shade, so I do the change there. Sal and I have lunch at Subway while letting the van cool, then we empty all the gear out to expose the engine and water reservoir. It is down about a quart. I add in enough to fill it and the overflow tank, and we are off to make another food drop, this time by car at Red's Meadow a 22 mile drive from Mammoth, down and then up another very large grade.
We drop the food off at Red's, pay the $35 storage fee and spend a delightful hour talking with some kids thru hiking the PCT. We give them the offer we give all PCT bikers we meet. If they will call us when the reach the Columbia and tell us what they want for a food drop and dinner, we will meet them at White Pass with whatever goodies they desire. Steaks, pies, ice cream . . . whatever. We have done this for three years and have yet to have a taker. But, El Presidente (his trail name-real name Reagan Bush-no kidding!) took our name and number and swore he would call, so we will be anticipating his call sometime in September.
The van performed perfectly on the grade out of Red's. Was it the oil or the water? Don't know-Don't care.
Next, it is back to Tuolumne, a climb from 7000' to 11,000' for the van, a true test of the repair work. It is second gear and 28 mph (luckily it is late in the afternoon and no one gets stuck behind us-damn Volkswagons!) most of the climb, but the temp stays down and the oil pressure holds.
We pick up a permit for an overnight hike to Clouds Rest, a 15 mile round trip, secure camping in the campground, treat the kids at the wilderness office to half a dozen donuts and the kids at the camping office to Cherry Turnovers and we are off to pack our packs for the hike tomorrow.
Chuck
Chuck
Chuck