Day 1

9.7 mi | +1317 ft | -2192 ft

Drive Up

I had been wanting to do this hike for over 10 years. When I was a Boy Scout - age 17 or so - I participated in a 9-day long-term backpacking trip in the Eastern Sierra. We hiked in at McGee Creek, made our way to Pioneer Basin, hiked a few peaks there, and finally popped out over Mono Pass to end up at Rock Creek Lake. I always said it was the best thing I’d ever done, and it was finally time for episode 2. I had (somehow) talked Dave and Chris into going with me after securing a permit way back in February. I knew I wanted to do a JMT segment, and the one between Mammoth and Yosemite looked awesome. I had seen that landscape so many times from the top of Mammoth, smothered in snow, so it would be cool to actually trek through that granite maze. Dani was originally going to come as well, but her first week of baking school happened to land right on top of the trip. Hmm…suspicious. The Devil’s Postpile / Red’s Meadow permits were so hot that I couldn’t get my hands on one, but I was able to secure Red Cones, which starts at Horseshoe Lake just south of Mammoth and adds about 4 miles of downhill trekking to the start of the trip.

After lots of preparing and double-checking our packing lists, we got up at 5 am Saturday morning and began our journey. I picked up the Tuscany boys and we chomped our ceremonial McMuffins. The drive went by like a breeze - it somehow always feels quicker early in the morning. We made it up to Horseshoe Lake by 11 am or so with a quick bathroom break at the Bishop McDonalds. After double-checking the car for any food that would invite a bear break-in, we headed out from the trailhead.

Approaching the JMT (1-2)

This route did not start on the JMT - we had to hike 4 miles and descend 2000 ft in order to meet up with it. This was sort of good news because Dave was worried about his knees - getting one of the big downhill segments out of the way right off the bat would ease his mind. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves - first we had to climb about 500 ft right from the trailhead at a decently steep incline (1). This was definitely not good for morale and kicked off a series of “well the car is pretty close” comments. Luckily we finished the climb before a mutiny occurred. The first hour on the trail was a solid reminder that this was going to be a strenuous week.

Near max elevation (Mammoth Pass) there was an overlook with a view of some of the Mammoth Crest and the hills surrounding Lake Mary and friends.

Next, we started the long descent. The first couple miles were a nice gradual grade through a wooded slope. We took a lunch break here. David revealed the first of his seemingly endless supply of Banh Mi. We also met a few “friends” coming the other way who upon hearing our itinerary told us that we were “taking our time” and that they had “done that in 5 days”. Cool! Thanks for sharing. Enjoy your 12 mile days!

After lunch, the grade steepened and the woods gave way to a huge, open slope (2). All of the old forest had been cleared out, though I could not find records of a recent wildfire. This must have happened quite a few years ago, as a new forest of young pine was already on the way up. The upside was that we had a fantastic view of the valley below containing Devil’s Postpile and the Middle Fork San Joaquin River, as well as the high Sierra peaks on the other side. Iron Mountain and its rambling granite foothills took center stage. To the left, the Middle Fork ran down a long granite slope and joined up with Fish Creek, headed out to the western foothills. To the right, the Ritter Range loomed in the distance, with Volcanic Ridge in the foreground. It was pretty wild to imagine that in just a few days we’d be up close and personal with those big boys.

We also got a peek of San Joaquin Mountain and some of the crest east of Donohue Peak, and of Minaret falls across the valley. Our route would take us up the other side of the valley south of the falls, where we’d cross Minaret Creek and camp at Johnston Lake before climbing up the ridge to the north on Day 2.

There were even views behind us - the summit of Mammoth was just peeking over the hillside. This would be a landmark all the way to Donohue Pass on Day 6.

Somewhere along this first leg we decided that one goal of the trip would be to get me into ancient alien conspiracies. Dave and Chris had been on a kick about aliens building the Pyramids thousands of years ago. They explained that the aliens live on the dark side of the moon to keep an eye on us. And of course the Younger Dryas explains everything. Makes sense to me!

Devil’s Postpile (3-5)

The descent was relentless as the trail weaved between swaths of young and old forest. We eventually made it to the bottom of the valley, where we passed by Red’s Meadow and popped on to the JMT (3). It’s a bit annoying to hike for a while and think you’re getting away from civilization, only to run into a parking lot and a bunch of day-hikers.

We actually broke off from the JMT briefly after joining it to do a drive-by of Devil’s Postpile (4), which is on the east side of the Middle Fork. It was pretty cool, but we were getting tired, so it was mostly just a good spot for a break. I brought a book about geology in the Sierra Nevada, and later in the trip I learned that this formation was created when a large lava lake that had flowed into the valley cooled very uniformly such that the entire thing crystallized at the same time and formed these regular pillars. Apparently 3 of these pillars were sort of hanging outwards for years until an earthquake in the 80s toppled them over.

By now it was late afternoon and we had covered quite a lot of distance and elevation. To keep our spirits up, Dave was serenading us with a line from his all-time favorite track My Humps: “sheee’s got me speeendiiing.”

Shortly after the Pile, the trail crossed the Middle Fork on a footbridge (5). I was glad to see this bridge intact, as the heavy snowfall in the 22/23 season had caused some other bridges along the JMT to be destroyed by overflowing rivers.

Minaret Creek & Johnston Lake (6)

The trail now climbed up the east side of the valley towards Minaret Creek. We crossed several small streams as we approached the creek.

The trail followed the creek uphill for a bit. We could hear the thunder of falling water, but didn’t get a glimpse of the falls. Eventually, we reached a broad crossing where the creek was calm (6). And this is where things started going downhill. Suddenly, there were about ten thousand mosquitoes in the air. This was honestly the most mosquitoes I think I’ve ever seen. Just standing still, there were at least 30 buzzing around your face, shoulders and arms. We broke out the 99% DEET (keep that shit out of your eyes - it melts plastic) and took off our boots to wade across. The water came up to our knees / mid-thighs at the deepest point, depending on our route. Chris almost ate it half way across but thankfully recovered his balance. We got to the other side, frantically dried our feet, and put our boots back on as we were relentlessly assaulted by the bugs.

We made it to Johnston Lake, less than a mile past the crossing, but it turned out to be more of a swampy pond than a lake. I had been a bit worried about this based on the maps and satellite images - it was just not all that big. There was one good tent spot and it was already occupied. So we backtracked a bit to the outlet and found a spot off-trail along Minaret Creek. It was about 6:30 pm and we had been hiking for 7.5 hours. We were pooped. The mosquitoes were still terrible, so we quickly set up camp and got a fire going. We were allowed to have fires in Inyo National Forest under 10,000 ft - or so we thought. More on that later. The smoke helped with the bugs. Everyone had leftover sandwiches from lunch, so we ate those for dinner and pumped water. I made my first batch of Tang - I had brought enough for 1 quart per day for all 8 days in a ziploc bag, to Dave’s great disdain. Chris really got after it and set up the bear bag solo style while Dave and I were busy. We needed a bear bag for a bit of extra stuff that didn’t fit in our bear cans, which were packed to bursting.

Upon opening my pack I realized something terrible had happened - my block of lunch cheese, which I had foolishly packed loosely at the top of my pack, had started sweating cheesy oil all over my gear. My sleeping bag and sleeping pad stuff sacks were contaminated with cheese stonk. This meant that I’d need to toss them in the bear can for the rest of the trip. I really hoped that my actual sleeping bag didn’t smell too delicious. Around 8 or 9 I somehow forced down one of my freeze-dried meals just to save weight in my pack. Our campsite along the creek took on a spooky swamp vibe as darkness fell, which seemed to influence our dreams…

Dreams:

• Dave: Explored a haunted house with a girl. Chased by a witch who hid behind the silhouette of a man wearing a top hat.
• Chris: Got a DUI and ruined his life :(
• Riley: Found a giant chill bear chomping the bear bag. Walking around camp and found my tent unexplainably upside-down. Sitting in my tent at night looking at the bushes nearby and suddenly hear a little girl urgently yelling “MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY”. Terrifying.

Day 2

6.0 mi | +1677 ft | -265 ft

Big Climb (1)

We followed up our hard first day with…a hard second day. We needed to get from Johnston Lake at 8200 ft up to Gladys Lake at 9600 ft in the eastern foothills of Volcanic Ridge. Thankfully the mileage wasn’t too bad, but that’s still a sizable climb. It was a bit colder than expected at this altitude, and we woke up to some more mosquito friends. We made a small morning fire and ate breakfast - pop tarts for me and oatmeal for Chris. Dave hates breakfast. Our little bend of Minaret Creek was beautiful, but also a prolific bug factory. While pumping water we were absolutely swarmed. Thank god for DEET - it was pretty good at preventing actual bites. But it didn’t stop them from going buzz buzz all up in your face.

We headed out around 9:30 am, with hopes that the bugs would improve as we gained altitude and distance from the swamp. This worked out pretty well. The first 1000 ft of the ascent was the toughest. There were quite a few downed trees over the trail that required small detours. A small consolation was a brief view of the Minarets to the left as we climbed. At around 9200 ft the grade chilled out and we started hitting a bunch of small creek crossings dotted with a variety of wildflowers.

Trinity Lakes (2)

At about the halfway point we stopped for lunch at Trinity Lakes (2), a small cluster of ponds that was thankfully not too swampy. I had cheese, salami and crackers - this would be my lunch for the next 2 days as well. Dave had some smoked salmon that was very tasty. Not a bad view for lunch.

Second Half (3-4)

During the second half of the day we started getting into some proper high country terrain. The next basin up contained Vivian Lake, and was surrounded with familiar sheer granite faces. We crossed a picturesque bridge and climbed the north side of the basin, where we got a view of a waterfall cascading down from Emily Lake above.

Near the end of our route I popped off-trail to the right to catch some views of Mammoth and the Sierra terrain to the south. Red Slate Mountain, a 13er I had climbed on my first long-term in 2008, was just barely peeking out.

We pushed through the final ascent to the pass at 9680 ft before descending about 50 ft to Gladys Lake. Thankfully this one was much nicer than Johnston Lake - a neat disk of calm alpine water nestled in a shallow basin. At this point my plan branched in two - one involved us pushing on a few miles and camping along Shadow Creek to set up for a day hike up Volcanic Ridge on Day 3. Apparently Volcanic Ridge has incredible views of the Minarets, which otherwise were never fully revealed along this segment of the JMT. But we were pretty much out of gas after these first two difficult days, so we decided to go with Plan A and skip the day hike.

Dave was feeling a bit creaky so Chris and I took on the task of circumnavigating the small lake in search of a campsite. We headed counter-clockwise. There wasn’t much along the steep south and east shores, but we found a fantastic, spacious spot back in the northeast corner. It was sandwiched in between the lake and a fantastic view of the long valley to the east, which contained the Agnew Meadows trailhead and the Pacific Crest Trail. The other (east) side of this valley was a beautiful collage of reddish sand, woods, and green swaths of grass, and was capped with San Joaquin Mountain and Two Teats (named after the two rock protrusions at its summit). There was plenty of camping along the north shore as well. Chris and I headed back around to fetch Dave and finally arrived at our site around 3:30 pm.

Of course my first priority was to swim. I had been deprived by swamp and bug. But here the bugs were pretty chill and the lake was shallow enough to be a comfortable temperature. I jumped in and it was warm on top, but about 2 feet down it got pretty icy! Still worth it.

We set up camp and Dave began his maniacal firewood search. He was gripped with an anxiety that we’d run out of firewood, so we usually had a pretty massive set of size-sorted piles.

Fortunately (or unfortunately?) there was actually 5G reception at this site. Maybe because it was exposed to the open valley to the east? Anyways the boys got their swipes in.

I scrambled about to take some photos of the surrounding scenery. We were finally getting into some beautiful high country.

The boys emerged from their slumber to start the fire. Chris set up the bear bag again - absolutely killing it. We headed to our beach for water, but by this time the mosquitoes were waking up. I went on a killing spree as Chris pumped water. We also saw another camper jump in the lake down the shore a bit. Thankfully the mosquitoes didn’t follow us back to camp, and the fire helped keep them away.

Morale was suffering. These first two days had been very strenuous, and we were only a quarter of the way in. I assume from the body language that there was some regret going on…

For dinner, I had mushroom risotto which was very good. I activated my big-brain weight-saving plan to re-use the meal hydration pouches every other night - so this night I was re-using the pouch from the first night. It worked perfectly! My risotto didn’t even taste like jambalaya. I also had half a freeze-dried ice cream sandwich. The texture was strange, but the taste was spot on. We let the fire burn down and got in bed around 9:30 pm.

Day 3

10.3 mi | +2117 ft | -2005 ft

Rosalie Lake (1)

We didn’t know it yet, but this would be our hardest day. We had a lot of elevation planned. We needed to descend from Gladys Lake at 9600 ft to Shadow Lake at 8800 ft, then ascend to a pass at 10,100 ft, and finally descend to Garnet Lake at 9600 ft. So we’d end up at the same elevation as where we started, which is pretty annoying to think about. This trip generally traversed northward across a series of ribs and valleys running east to west, so there was a lot of up-and-down.

I slept like a rock, which is always a win in the backcountry. Dani had converted me to using (1) earplugs and (2) an inflatable pillow, and I think they made a big difference. Plus we were just dog tired. I got up around 6 and caught the sunrise peeking over the rim of the valley to the east. It cast everything in a warm orange glow.

I read my book in the hammock while the boys slept in a bit. They got up around 8 and we had breakfast. More pop-tarts for me, and Korean instant coffee. We also started a small morning fire, mostly just for fun. We packed up and pumped water, and Dave won the prize for using the bathroom shovel first.

We met up with the trail and continued on, down about 200 ft to Rosalie Lake (1). It was about twice as large as Gladys, rimmed with granite cliffs, with a few campsites along the trail as it skirted along the eastern shore. But it wasn’t close enough for a view of the valley to the east - Gladys seems unique in that regard. The lake surface was still smooth as glass, which made for a cool photo. Just before leaving the lake, the trail climbed 30 ft or so above it, and we could see several juicy trout swimming about in the shallows. The water was crystal clear. Very cool!

Shadow Lake (2-3)

The trail climbed a bit and then plunged into a serious descent of 600 ft or so. Dave was nervous about this as his knees were feeling tender from the first two days. He developed a strategy to minimize knee impact - take teeny tiny steps. Chris and I would go ahead a while (it was easier for us to descend more quickly) and wait for Dave to tip-toe down the trail to us. During one of these waits I scrambled 30 ft uphill off the trail (2) to get a fantastic view of Banner and Ritter, which were now fully in-view and quite close. I also got a sneak peak of Shadow Lake in the bottom right corner.

We thankfully reached the lake without any knee-related issues. It was lunch time, so we scouted out a nice place along the shore (3). Shadow Lake is much larger than any other lake we’d seen so far, and there is no camping allowed anywhere around it. This is probably to control environmental impact to the area. We saw a ton of people hiking along the trail on the north shore, which comes up from the valley to the east and Agnew Meadows.

Here we also saw some deer run by on the trail, but one of them had 3 or 4 apple-sized black growths hanging from its neck. Not sure what that was - maybe cancer? It was pretty disturbing.

Shadow Creek (4)

After lunch, the trail turned west and climbed up the valley alongside Shadow Creek. Shadow Creek was flowing quickly, tumbling down the granite steps. Thankfully, all of the crossings had intact bridges.

Along this leg we ran into a friendly ranger who checked our permit and quizzed us about bear cans and fires. Turns out there was a full fire ban in action in Inyo National Forest. I neglected to check on fire restrictions for the week or two leading up to the trip - it must have been issued shortly before we left. So our fires at our first two campsites were not legal. Oops! We weren’t planning on fires for the next 3 nights anyways - there are no fires allowed at Garnet and Thousand Island Lakes, and on Day 5 we’d be camping above 10,000 ft. Luckily the ban did not apply to Yosemite, where we’d be able to have a fire for the last 2 nights (we’d be under the 9600 ft limit). The ranger also let us know that the bugs were worse at higher elevation, because higher elevation is effectively earlier in the season and this season was very late due to heavy snowfall. We sure hoped this was not the case…

Shadow Creek runs east down a valley with Volcanic Ridge to the south and a string of lower peaks separating it from Garnet Lake to the north. The trail keeps to the north of the creek and affords some spectacular views of Volcanic Ridge, Banner and Ritter.

Pass (5-8)

After a while, the JMT breaks off from Shadow Creek and turns north up the side of the valley. Shadow Creek Trail continues west to Ediza Lake, which I hope to explore eventually on another trip. We now had a solid 1000 ft and change to climb up (5) to the unnamed pass separating Shadow Creek from Garnet Lake to the north. This was not easy. We had to break it into 200 ft segments with breaks in between. It was during this stretch that we ran into a girl who recognized Chris’ Medtronic shirt - turns out she was a co-worker. Chris didn’t know her, but they chatted for a bit, which was nice because it gave Dave and I a chance to catch our breath. Apparently she was doing the full JMT southbound. A week or two after we got home, Chris said she posted a pic of herself at the top of Whitney, the terminus of her trip. Nice!

One we got above 9800 ft, things started getting very scenic (6). A small creek ran to the left of the trail, which made into a small, narrow canyon filled with lush greenery.

It was here that we took a break and I spotted this big old pile of rocks to the right. We had rightfully decided not to do a Volcanic Ridge day hike, but I still needed to get on top of something. This didn’t look too bad. I didn’t know at the time, but it turns out this pile of rocks is known as Clarice Peak (7).

I told the boys to take a nice long break (they were not interested in joining me) and headed up. I didn’t originally plan on getting to the top, but as I gained each rambling shelf of grassy granite boulders, the next one just looked so inviting. I eventually reached a slope of talus that I scrambled up to the main ridge. I didn’t actually reach the top, which was maybe 50-100 ft higher up, because I didn’t immediately see a good route up, and I was already pushing my body pretty hard. I also didn’t want to do anything risky on my own, out of sight of my companions. But the ridge I ended up on just south of the summit still had fantastic views west, south and east. It was at about 10,250 ft. I was actually in view of the trail at this point; Chris snapped a photo of me while I was taking photos of the landscape.

The views were awesome. I took a ton of photos, including the panorama below from my phone, but could only capture portions of the landscape on my film camera (I lugged a Nikon FG-20 with a 28mm fixed lens and 4 rolls of film though this whole thing).

On the way back down I had to take it slow and my knees started feeling a little over-worked. I also saw a little garter snake on the way down. After we were reunited, Dave bestowed upon me a prize for my accomplishment - a necklace hand-tied from grass. What a crafty lad.

After that long break (for some of us at least), we were ready to tackle the last few hundred feet of uphill to the pass. Right at the top it opened up into a gorgeous meadow (8) with a little snow patch. The trail climbed a series of switchbacks carved into the rocky talus on the north side of this meadow, affording a nice view looking back.

Garnet Lake (9-12)

Finally, we were done with uphill for the day. Garnet Lake, the first of two very large, island-dotted lakes, began to peek over the trail as it wound down into its basin. We had a final 300 ft descent to get to lake level (9).

Camping was not allowed within a quarter mile of the outlet, so we followed the trail along the north shore. As soon as we passed the camping zone sign, all the spots were occupied. This was a popular and scenic spot, and we were arriving late. We even walked past a little gully, no wider than 15 ft, packed with multiple groups pitching their tents on a serious incline! They looked up at us as suspiciously as we passed. Next, I made a big mistake - rather than continue on the JMT, which here climbed a bit before dipping back down to the lake, I thought we’d save a little work by taking a left onto a trace trail that went right along the shore (11). This trail ended up being pretty rough in spots. We did pass one nice campsite, but it was unfortunately taken. The trail fizzled out near a large peninsula (12) that I’d spotted on the way down to the lake earlier, and we had to do a bit of bushwhacking to get onto the granite slab from which it was formed. There were quite a few people already set up in spots, so we had slim pickings. We were pretty zombified (Chris later said he was using 100% of his energy at this point to not get injured while walking) so I casted around for a campsite and came up with a decent gravelly spot near the shore. We rushed over to set up camp before it got dark - it was already around 6 pm. I did take a minute to admire the mind-boggling scenery. We were so close to Ritter and Banner now!

We pumped some water and started dinner. You need to let these freeze-dried meals hydrate for 10-15 minutes, and you need to double that at 10,000 ft. So dinner usually takes a while to “cook.” I decided to break out the fishing pole while this was happening, as I could see trout feeding on the lake surface. Within a couple casts I pulled in a good size brookie! Not bad. I tossed him back. Dinner was chicken pot pie which was disappointingly bland.

The bugs started getting bad and we were dog tired. And we couldn’t make a fire. So we turned in early around 8 to read in our tents. This was easily the hardest day of the trip in terms of distance and elevation. We could feel it. Morale was never so low as when we were trudging along that trace trail, looking desperately for a campsite. But things were about to take a turn for the better…

Dreams:

• Chris: detained in a Costco
• Riley: saw a SR-71 Blackbird fly low over Garnet Lake and do some sick maneuvers

Day 4 (Day of Leisure)

5.7 mi | +793 ft | -681 ft

The first 3 days were hard. Everything hurt. Morale was low. The still dusk air had been transformed into violent gusts of wind overnight. This whipped around the copious condensation on the inside surface of my tarp tent to create a miracle of nature - indoor rain. Right on my face. I had to wipe down the interior of my tent in the middle of the night with my camp towel. In the morning, we got up and made breakfast, and the wind blew Chris and Dave’s tent, which they had neglected to stake down, right on top of our kitchen rock with all their stuff still inside. We had to grab it and pull the poles out (still with all their stuff in there). At least the wind blew all the bugs away.

But things were looking up. Day 4 was huge. It was a strategically easy day. We only had less than 2 miles and 500 ft up/down to get over to Thousand Island Lake in the next valley to the north. We had been calling this our promised land, our “Day of Leisure.”

The morning wind also brought with it a new take on the view, this time lit face-on from the east.

A few other notable events occurred that morning. Chris and I both finally used the shovel. This was great, considering that one of Chris’s favorite parts of this whole hobby is doing his business with a view. I also hung out with what I think was a ground squirrel while reading in the morning. I must have been very still because he came right up next to me before I noticed him. Didn’t manage to get a photo though.

We finished breakfast and packed up camp, departing around 10 am. Thankfully we could bypass the crappy trail we took the previous day and instead we took a real established trail up to the JMT. You could tell that even just the idea of LEISURE was juicing these boys’ spirits. They actually wanted to take a selfie at a scenic overlook back towards Garnet Lake. Even the Minarets showed themselves a bit on the left. We also absolutely crushed the first 350 ft of the climb like it was nothing. Were we perhaps through the thick of it?!?

Ruby & Emerald Lakes (1-2)

After reaching the pass, which offered a full view of Donohue Peak ahead, our descent took us past two small gem-themed lakes on the way down to Thousand Island Lake. First was Ruby Lake, nestled in steep granite cliffs. The south bank was still covered by a severely overhung snowbank, slowly collapsing into the waters as the summer rolled in.

Next was handsome Emerald Lake, situated in a shallower basin. I was a big fan of this one for some reason. It was just so picturesque and idyllic. Too bad it was too early and chilly to take a swim.

Thousand Island Lake & Leisure (3-5)

Shortly after Emerald Lake, we caught sight of Thousand Island Lake. It was similar in character to Garnet Lake, but sat in a much broader, more gentle basin that makes it even more picturesque. Banner Peak loomed majestically at the west end, with rambling Mt Davis to its right. Like Garnet Lake, all the camping is on the north shore, and no camping is allowed within a quarter mile of the outlet. We had to cross the outlet on a very nice set of stepping stones (3) and head around to look for a campsite.

We were in much better shape than the previous day. It was only around 12:30, and we felt fresh rather than totally demolished. We were able to snag an excellent spot up on a bluff with a wonderful view (4). It was marked by a length of blue rope tied to a tree on the right side of the trail.

The gentle slope on the north side of the lake made for some beautiful green meadows. From our site we could see Banner Peak on the left and Mt Davis on the right, with North Glacier Pass between them. When I was planning the trip I considered summiting Banner Peak for a hot second. The route starts here at Thousand Island Lake heads up the left-facing slope to North Glacier Pass before ascending a glacier between Banner and Ritter to gain the saddle between them. The final leg is an easy talus scramble up the east face of Banner. I wanted to stay away from anything requiring crampons and an ice ax, so that didn’t make it into the itinerary. Maybe someday…

We set up camp and ate lunch on a rock in the shade overlooking our site. I had the last of my salami and cheese (by this point I was glad to be rid of it). Dave had some salami drowned in black pepper that was actually really good. He’d give me a slice every lunch and I looked forward to it. I set up my hammock nearby and took one tumble (thankfully not far) when my shitty knot gave way.

Now, how to spend our day of leisure? We started with a walk down to the lake for a swim. We found a nice spot with a couple nearby islands we could wade or swim to. Chris and I waded out to the first one, then to one more beyond it. The second island had a nice alcove sheltered from the appreciable winds blowing east along the lake’s surface. Dave followed along but only to the first island, where he refused to go any further. I washed my shirt and took a dip - it was pretty damn cold but felt great. There were plenty of big warm wind-sheltered granite slabs to dry off on our little island.

After chilling for a bit, we headed back to camp. Chris was really swagged out - he had tied 3 articles of clothing around his neck like capes, and was also wearing one like a kilt. We headed back to camp and read our books in a nice grassy patch. Well, Chris didn’t have a book (he brought a hard-back that he left in the car), so I guess he just thought about stuff for a while. I had my geology book, and Dave had brought a few chapters on Buddhism and Hinduism ripped out of his religion textbook from college. That boy was getting enlightened. Chris asked him to read him some passages at night in the tent but Dave said no.

At one point I hopped up on a rock in our camp to take some photos. There was another group of hikers down at the shore with their dog. The dog caught sight of me and was not happy about it. She kept half-barking and staring right at me. The owner tried to reel her in, but she ended up scrambling through the brush below and reaching our camp to investigate. Her name was Daisy (we knew because her owner was shouting it) and she was nice once she got up close and met us. Looked like a poodle mix.

Around 3 or 4, Chris and I decided to take a short day hike down the lake shore (5). We walked about a mile along gorgeous terrain during golden hour. It was serene and wonderful. There were dense groves of bright red paintbrushes dotting the little grassy islands we passed by. We also saw a bunch of fat tadpoles in several of the ponds scattered along the trail.

The heavily-worn trail along Thousand Island Lake gives away just how popular this area is. Pretty wild. We must have passed fifteen or more people on our day hike, and there were undoubtedly more out of sight.

After we got back, we made dinner. Dave and I both had the green curry, which had a weird aftertaste and was way too spicy. I read a bit in my hammock while dinner cooked. The mosquitoes started getting bad again, and we weren’t allowed to have a fire here, so we absconded into our tents after dinner to escape them. I ended up reading until about 9 when I knocked out.

Day 5

8.3 mi | +1475 ft | -887 ft

Island Pass (1-2)

Day 5 started out great - we were fully rested up, and all 3 of us went for a morning expedition with the shovel. What more can you ask for? We had breakfast, pumped water and packed up.

We were feeling so good that we absolutely ripped the first 500 ft climb without a break. The Day of Leisure was paying off. Hiking was easy now. The boys were so chipper that they even suggested taking a selfie here as we climbed out of the north side of the Thousand Island Lake basin.

We got up to about 10,000 ft before the trail leveled off as it approached Island Pass. Here we passed a large group of 10 or so friendly older women, who were on a day hike from their camp. Love to see it. I hope I’m still out in the backcountry in my 50s and 60s. Right around this point there were a pair of unnamed small lakes straddling the trail (1). We didn’t expect any more significant lakes on our route, so we dubbed them the “last lakes.” I couldn’t help but take a swim after the morning climb. I think I saw some small leeches floating in the water, but that didn’t deter me, nor did they suck out any of my delicious blood. We also saw a big frog and another garter snake swimming about in the shallows.

Island Pass (2) was quite flat and sat at about 10,200 ft. We were definitely back in the beautiful high country, with sparse, gnarled pines and lots of granite. The exposure allowed for nice views of the imposing array of peaks to the north, guarding the path to Yosemite. The trail passed by some picturesque wildflower-studded creeks before starting to descend northwards.

Rush Creek (3)

We descended into the next valley, which was home to the dry bed of Waugh Lake, as well as Gem Lake to the east and Davis and Marie Lakes to the west. At the bottom of the valley was a criss-crossing of lovely creeks, which merged into Rush Creek and flowed east, eventually reaching Silver Lake, near June Lake. These creeks were nestled in a densely wooded area with lots of shade. You could easily see tons of trout chilling in the meandering bends. Looking back to the south yielded views of the other side of Mt Davis, Mt Ritter and Banner Peak. They were almost unrecognizable from this angle.

We passed the trail fork leading off to the left towards Davis Lakes, and took lunch just before a stream crossing at the bottom of the valley at about 9700 ft. There was a nice stone bench here. I was through my salami, cheese and crackers, and now into the Cliff Bar phase of my lunches. I had miscalculated, though - I had packed 3 bars for each lunch, which is in retrospect an insane amount. I only ended up eating one or two each day, leaving a large surplus. You live and you learn. Dave was still going strong with the black pepper crusted salami. He set it up on a nice rock with some nuts. Gourmet.

From this vantage point we watched a few other parties of hikers cross this stream. It was one of the more difficult crossings. There were two options. Option one was straight through the trail, but the water was high enough that there wasn’t a fully dry stepping stone route. Dave ended up taking this route with his waterproof boots. Chirs and I chose route 2 - a sketchy log spanning 6 feet or so above the stream, sitting at an incline. The wood was polished by boots. Trekking poles came in handy here, but even still it was pretty spooky. We made it over without incident.

High Country (4-5)

Now began the gradual climb to Donohue Pass at 11,000 ft. We weren’t planning on getting all the way there on Day 5 - we would camp somewhere around 10,400 ft in the valley just before the final ascent. At the last creek crossing (this one was actually Rush Creek, I believe), we passed a few southbound thru-hikers. They had just heard about the blown bridges farther south, and were trying to figure out alternate routes. They looked pretty bummed, and unfortunately we weren’t a whole lot of help. Continuing the climb, we passed the real “last lake” (4) as we skirted a large granite outcropping to the west.

Once we got back above 10,000 ft the scenery was mind-boggling. Paintbrushes popped up in the thousands, tinting grassy patches red between white granite and burbling streams. The last few surviving snow patches gleamed under the deep blue alpine sky.

We told ourselves we would get to 10,400 ft and then look for a campsite. That way we’d only have a quick 600 ft climb the next morning to the pass. Right around this elevation the trail makes its way along the left edge of a gentle, grassy basin (5). We popped off to the right to search for a spot. There were not a lot of established campsites around here, so we had to settle for the first decent thing we found. The one problem was that there wasn’t a lot of soil - only a couple of inches of gravel on top of solid granite slabs. Staking our tents would be interesting…

We set up camp and explored the surrounding area. We ended up securing our stakes with piles of mid-size rocks, as there wasn’t enough soil or gravel to drive the stakes in normally. This seemed to work…but more on that later. There were definitely mosquitoes about, but it wasn’t too bad. I took a dip in the paintbrush-lined creek to the north of our campsite. There was a small waterfall that I washed my hair under (no soap of course) and a crystal-clear pool with beautiful views of Donohue Peak above us.

The wildflowers here were crazy. We also saw a few deer tracks, which was cool, but no actual deer.

As dinner time approached, the mosquitoes got worse. And worse. And worse. It eventually got to the same level we experienced on night 1 at Johnston Lake - there were 10-20 boys buzzing about your face at all times. The friendly ranger from day 3 was right - the bugs were even worse all the way up here at over 10,000 ft! Thank god for DEET, but it was starting to run low…

We started experimenting with different bug strategies. I knew that mosquitoes were attracted to CO2 in your exhaled breath, so I started breathing as slowly as possible, not talking, and trying to exhale away from my body. I think this was actually pretty effective. Or maybe I was going a little crazy. As we pumped water and waited for dinner to cook, we said less and less and started silently walking around from spot to spot, trying to avoid the airborne army. I chomped my chana masala (which was easily the best dinner, by the way - absolutely cranked) and jumped into the safety of my tent ASAP. It was like 6:30 and sunset was still an hour away, so we read a bit and knocked out early. Stupid mosquitoes.

At least the scenery was stunning. Directly north was Donohue Peak - we were camping right at its foot. To the west was Donohue Pass, our target for the next day, removed a ways from the peak sharing its name. Southwest was a handsome triangular peak and its rocky tarn, with Mt Lyell and Mt Maclure peeking out from behind the ridge.

Dreams:

• Chris: breaking various promises he made to people he cared about
• Riley: just at work, reading emails 🙁
• Dave: competing in a series of challenge rooms with a partner. There were ghosts and a swimming witch you had to avoid. Man’s got witches on the brain.

Day 6

8.1 mi | +1123 ft | -2559 ft

Donohue Pass (1-2)

Remember how we staked our tents with rocks? This trip I was using a new tarp tent. Well, it wasn’t new, it was just new to me. It was actually the tent my dad used on our long-term trip back in 2008. This tent is super lightweight, but as a result requires stakes for its basic structural integrity. I thought I had done a pretty good job with the rocks, but mother nature said “I don’t think so.” There were some violent gusts of wind that night which ripped out my stakes and collapsed my tent onto my face at around 4 am. I begrudgingly got up, got out of my sleeping bag, escapted the tent (which was now basically just a tarp on the ground), and shuffled the rocks around until everything stood up again. Back to sleep. 6:15 am - tent on my face again. I was over it at this point, so I just got up and packed up my stuff. I took a nice walk around camp and took some photos in the morning light. Thankfully the bugs were still sleeping, just like the boys. Or maybe they all got blown away by the wind.

Finding a spot to use the shovel out here was not that easy - there wasn’t a whole lot of soil, nor a whole lot of privacy. I had to find a nice little grove of pines under which to do my business. Can’t complain about the view, though.

We roused sleepy David around 8 am, ate breakfast, pumped water, and packed up. We got on the trail by 9 am and crushed the 600 ft climb to Donohue Pass without a break. We were definitely starting to feel the advantage of our lighter packs as we ate through our food supply. We were probably also pretty acclimated to the altitude by this point. As we approached the pass, the grass and wildflowers and all other overt signs of life fell away and we were left on a barren moonscape of granite and snow patches.

The pass itself didn’t provide great views, so I scrambled off trail to the northeast a bit to find a vantage point (1) which offered an almost overwhelming choice of directions to gaze towards. To the east, we were now almost level with Donohue Peak, and our campsite, with its burbling pools and creeks, was visible far below. Behind Donohue, Mount Andrea Lawrence was visible, and even further east were the violent, sawtooth ridges of the southeast spur of Koip Crest Peak.

To the southeast Davis, Banner, and Ritter dominated the foreground, with San Joaquin Mountain and Two Teats (finally both visible!) on the left. Mammoth is just visible in the hazy background, making its final appearance of the trip. Even the summit of Red Slate Mountain, some 27 miles distant, was visible on the skyline.

And to the north, the farther reaches of Lyell Canyon were visible, with Lyell Fork meandering lazily down the gently-inclined valley through golden patches of meadow. Mt Dana, which we would later pass by during our bus ride home along Tioga Road, was just barely peeking out from behind Kuna Crest.

I could even see the snowless summer ski runs on June Mountain!

And finally, to the southwest Mt Lyell, Mt Maclure and a host of other Sierra crest goliaths were laid out in front of me.

Back down at the pass, the boys were chatting with an ancient wise man who was thru-hiking the JMT. As we continued on, we crossed a small snow patch (2) and began the 2000 ft descent into Lyell Canyon. This was the final boss for Dave’s knees, but they had done so well up to that point that there was no way they could be defeated.

Descent to Lyell Canyon (3-7)

The descent was a re-play of the biomes we had passed through the previous day, now in reverse. First, barren granite boulder slopes. Then, grassy meadows blooming between the boulders, sparsely dotted with stunted pines. Lyell and Maclure dominated the skyline. We could also see Lyell Glacier, one of the largest of the 100 or so remaining small glaciers in the Sierra Nevada.

The trail soon crossed over the outlet of a stunning unnamed alpine lake (3). This was one of my favorite spots of the entire trip. The crystal clear, blue lake sparkled under a cloudless sky, surrounded by thousand-foot cliffs still drenched in snowbanks, despite the imminence of September. We passed tons of hikers heading south in this area.

Next, the trail descended a rocky slope down to the next shelf of this monumental staircase, which played host to a bend of Lyell Fork and a nice meadow (4). Here you can see the backside of Donohue Peak, which actually looks pretty climbable…

Next, we encountered an aggressive section of descending switchbacks (5). Here we started to get out of the high country and back into the lower-altitude, densely forested biome. We crossed Lyell Fork a few more times (6).

After a while, the trail opened up to a view of the bottom of Lyell Canyon, with Lyell Fork taking huge, swooping bends through a meadow. That was our destination for the day - as soon as we hit 9000 ft, the trail would be almost flat for the entire remainder of our route. So close! The final bit here descended through what looked like a sizable avalanche scar (7) - most trees were bent over or broken off entirely.

During the descent, we passed a few characters. First, we met a solo hiker man who made a legendary joke nobody has ever heard - he asked us where the escalator was! He also told us he was booking it up the canyon to avoid the weather that was blowing in. I hadn’t seen any bad weather on the forecast before we left, but that was 6 days ago at this point. We looked at each other and said “uh oh.” Not much you can do about it. We also passed a couple making their way up the steep slope; Dave was convinced the exhausted-looking woman was going to need a helicopter rescue. RIP.

Lyell Canyon (8)

We finally reached the 9000 ft mark. We were done with uphill, and downhill for that matter. The next 2 days were a chill 12 mile stroll down Lyell Canyon. Even better: we were under 9600 ft in Yosemite so we could build a fire! We found a spacious spot to the left off the trail where it intersected the first large meadow. The site had an existing fire ring and everything. We set up camp, and I found a nice hammock spot. We even noticed we had a direct view of a waterfall across the canyon between two trees from our camp. We ate lunch after setting up camp - we had made good time - and then collected some firewood. We had a lot of time to kill, so I decided I’d try to make a wilderness chess board. It didn’t turn out too bad.

Next we headed down to one of the river meanders to pump some water. It was golden hour and pretty nice down there.

We headed back to camp and got the fire going. I had chicken fried rice for dinner - it was solid, probably second place behind the chana masala. Chris’ beef stroganoff was very good, despite my horrifying memories of beef stroganoff from my Boy Scout days.

At this point I realized I had miscalculated when figuring how much fuel we needed - I assumed “one boil” on the JetBoil fuel canister was 1 quart, but it was actually more like half a quart. I had added a large safety factor, so we probably still had enough, but it was getting a bit close. Chris took this as an opportunity to level up his wilderness survival skills. After we had some good hot coals going, he scraped some over to the side and built a little stone enclosure to hold his titanium cup, which he filled with water. He successfully got it boiling, and made some chili (2 or 3 beans?) as a second course. It was quite good.

We had been worried about bugs because we’d seen quite a few people on the trail with full head-nets, but there were virtually zero here. Thank god.

Dave and I played another game of chess. This time he was up a lot of material, but I didn’t give up and bagged another stalemate in the endgame. Since we had a fire, we stayed up “late” and chatted until around 10 pm. It got a bit spooky - it was very dark because the moon hadn’t risen over the canyon wall yet, and there were huge wind gusts tearing through the treetops, knocking down needles and twigs and causing creepy creaking sounds. When the fire burned down we got in bed and called it.

Day 7

6.1 mi | +524 ft | -619 ft

Lyell Canyon (1-2)

It was going to be an easy day, so we slept in all the way until 8 or 9 am. Chris made the morning fire and earned yet another merit badge. He also went to pump water for everyone solo. This man was killing it. Except he got a bit lost on the way back to camp. It was taking so long that I started to get worried. But he made it back eventually. We made breakfast and packed up.

It was an easy, flat 4 miles to our next campsite. Honestly we should have compressed these last 2 days into one, but I was a little worried about doing 8-10 miles in one day when I was planning. You’re not allowed to camp closer than 4 miles to the Tuolumne Meadows trailheads, so we could only go so far down the trail on this day. We passed through countless green-and-gold meadows, with Lyell Fork weaving through them.

About halfway through the hike, we had to cross Ireland Creek (1), which flowed down from Ireland Lake up the west wall of the valley. This crossing was a bit spooky - the creek was 10-15 ft wide, and the best crossing option was a long, narrow log. We all made it across without any incident. I am honestly shocked Chris managed to stay on there.

On the other side, we ran into some guys hiking the opposite direction. We hadn’t really seen anyone all day, which was eerie after all the traffic jams on day 6. We asked about the weather, and they said they had checked their Garmin and didn’t see anything. Relieved, we immediately talked shit on Escalator Man. He had no idea what he was talking about.

When we reached the camping boundary, we searched for quite a while for a spot. To the right of the trail was yet another massive meadow, so we looked along the gentle slope to the left. I eventually found a decent spot with an existing fire ring. We also saw a few deer around this area. We set up camp and I found another hammock spot.

For lunch, we had one of Chris’s extra freeze-dried meals: cheese broccoli and rice. He also diced up some of his remaining salami and threw it in there. It was pretty good. I think he earned the cooking merit badge too.

I also let him try out the hammock. I don’t think he liked it.

We had the whole afternoon to kill, so we decided to go explore the cluster of lakes in the middle of the meadow. These were the true “last lakes.” First, we had to do a little wading across Lyell Fork, with some gorgeous scenery behind us.

We tried to get close to any of the lakes, but we were thwarted by muddy swamp time and time again. The terrain was fully carpeted in tall grass, but underneath was either solid ground or wet guck, and it was impossible to tell which until you stepped in it. So we blindly poked our feet around, looking for a path to a lake. We couldn’t find one. It was also incredibly windy, which made for a cool visual effect in the grass. There were some clouds blowing overhead for the first time all trip. Nothing significant about that.

Defeated, we crossed back over and returned to camp. We started the fire early, just to have something to do, and while we were sitting around chatting I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over and saw a large bear strolling past us, maybe 50 ft away. I immediately said “OH, BEAR” and we all stood up and stared. It was a big boy, definitely a black bear (the only species left in California) but its coat was a mix of brown and blond. Probably sun-bleached. Pretty nice natural highlights, actually. The bear didn’t once look at us or acknowledge us in any way - it just continued to stroll past, sniffing things here and there, probably in search of some food. We didn’t do anything but stare as it walked south and eventually disappeared over a granite ridge. Pretty cool!

For dinner I had my last meal, which was a fancy organic brand I was trying for the first time. It was dal, rice and spinach. It was OK - it definitely tasted more natural and didn’t have any weird aftertaste, but it also just tasted kind of plain. I guess that’s the trade-off. Chris really reached his final form on this last night. After boiling more water over the fire for dinner, he took his remaining salami and sliced it up, and then fried it up in his titanium cup. He handed Dave and I a slice at a time as they finished cooking, and it was legitimately the best thing I had eaten all week. We were terribly starved for any kind of grease. It tasted like a nice pepperoni.

After dinner, we chatted around the fire again until about 9:30 pm, then headed to bed.

Day 8

6.7 mi | +430 ft | -726 ft

The Final (Wet) Leg

I awoke to a terrible sound - the pitter-patter of raindrops on my tent. At first I hoped it would be a brief shower and pass, but it just kept getting more and more consistent. I knew we had to get out of there ASAP before it started pouring. I hopped out of the tent and ran over to Dave and Chris and said “It’s raining boys let’s get a move on.” We packed up in turbo mode. My tent was already soaked, which sucked, but at least it was the last day and I wouldn’t have to sleep in it again. We also skipped breakfast. Chris was not happy.

We basically sprinted the last 6.5 miles to the visitor center in 2h20m with almost no breaks. We followed along Lyell Fork a ways, until the trail broke off west parallel to Tioga Road. We passed by several signs of civilization - campgrounds, trailhead signs, etc. Not a whole lot of hikers in the rain, though, except for a couple of dejected damp boys. We also saw a ton of deer - more than the rest of the trip combined. The rain came in and out, and never really got too crazy. But we were still pretty wet by the time we got to the finish line. Dave decided to not bring a waterproof pack cover on this trip. Nice. But to be fair my “rain jacket” was actually just a windbreaker and not waterproof at all.

Here we are at the finish line - we made it! In all we had hiked about 60 miles with about 10,000 ft ascent and 10,000 ft descent.

Epilogue: The Logistical Marathon

But we weren’t quite done. There was a problem. I had booked us tickets on the 4:30 pm YARTS bus to get back to Mammoth Lakes. And since we sprinted the hell out of camp in the rain, we were at the bus stop by 9:30 am. There were no buses earlier than that. So we had a 7 hour wait ahead of us. Luckily, there was a sheltered bathroom structure that we effectively commandeered as our temporary home. I set up my hammock over the deck and Chris got in his sleeping bag to warm up. It was pretty chilly and wet. The sun would come out for a minute or so at a time and we’d all run over to the parking lot to absorb its warming rays until the rain returned and we’d scuttle back to our bathroom home. We made coffee and breakfast with the JetBoil next to the bathrooms, which was hilarious. Dave and I finished our books and did a book swap - I learned about Hinduism and he learned about glaciers and earthquakes. The time actually went by pretty quick. The bus was about 30 minutes late, and those last 30 minutes were the longest of all, but eventually it did show up and we got our packs loaded and hopped on.

The bus route heads east on Tioga Road to get down to the 395 before heading south to Mammoth Lakes. The descent of Tioga Road out of Yosemite is pretty spectacular - I got a few cool photos out of the bus window.

We finally got phone service once we got out of the mountains. I had been using my phone for photos but otherwise I had it on extreme battery saver with most apps disabled. I charged it twice from a 10,000 mAh battery I packed. My watch just barely made it (I had to reduce the GPS resolution for a couple of the longer days to keep it on track). The satellite SOS beacon was still going strong at 92% by the end - I would only turn it on while we were hiking during the day. Since the bus was late, I had to call the taxi company (Mammoth Taxi) I had pre-booked to take us from the Mammoth Lakes bus stop at Juniper Springs resort back to the car at Horseshoe Lake. They ended up meeting us at the first Mammoth Lakes stop at Shilo Inn to expedite things. The driver was super friendly and accommodating and we finally got back to our car at around 6 or 7 pm. We drove to the airbnb, showered, had some bad cheap complimentary wine, and headed to John’s Pizza Works for dinner.

The boys had been fantasizing about ordering pizza, wings, and beer since mile 2 or 3, and they went hog wild. We all ordered our own pizza, and 20 wings to share, and Chris and Dave also ordered a steak sandwich to share. Needless to say we had a lot of leftovers. But the pizza was very good and the place was popping off. Our server was also cool and told us about his experience backpacking. He caught trout and stuffed them with wild onions that he picked along the trail. He also told us about a time he and his friends tripped at Thousand Island Lake and watched all the hikers march around holding their tents above their heads looking for a campsite. They thought it was hilarious.

We rolled back to the airbnb and attempted to watch the second Jurassic Park movie, but it was really bad and we only got a bit of the way into it before everyone knocked out. The drive back the next morning was pretty chill. We tried to grab coffee at Starbucks, but it was packed, so we went to a local place, but it was also packed. So we said no thanks. Of course we stopped at The Workz for lunch on the way home, as is tradition.

All in all this was an incredibly successful revival of the long-term backpacking tradition that I hope to make an annual tradition.