2009 Sierra Trip, Day One

2009 Sierra Trip

Ansel Adams Wilderness

Day One (half day of hiking): Wednesday, 9/9/09

From Agnew Meadows to the Lake Ediza Trail
5.02 mi
avg ~0.9 mph
8070' to 8670' elevation

By the time our 2009 Sierra backpacking trip rolled around in September, only 3 of our intended party of 6 could actually make it. So my brother, DH, and I decided to forgo the original route we had planned and save it instead for next Spring (when hopefully we can all make it).

Instead, my brother came up with a nice little (we thought) 11-mi loop out of Agnew Meadows. By following the River Trail northwest, we could cruise by Lake Olaine to the trail to Shadow Lake, then catch the John Muir Trail to the trail to Lake Ediza (~9300 ' elevation). After hanging out at Lake Ediza, we could take a footpath south up to Iceberg Lake (~9800 ' elevation). At Iceberg, we could go south cross-country up to Cecile Lake (10,300'), then over a ridge (also cross-country) to the southeast to Minaret Lake (~9800'). From there, we could pick up the Minaret Lake trail all the way back to the Ranger Station at Devil's Postpile. No backtracking!

Click on images to see larger version.

A mural map outside the store shows our intended route.
Agnew Meadows is in the lower right.
(North is NOT straight up in this mural!)

We had established a base camp at one of the campgrounds the night before. Still, we took our time in the morning, gathering our gear and then heading to the store for fishing licenses around noon. After that, it was one final stop at the Ranger Station for our wilderness permits, one last pit stop at flush toilets, and then we were off to Agnew Meadows. Obviously we prefer the leisurely start to the alpine one!

Packed and ready to go.

Signs were in abundance, so we had no trouble locating the trailhead and its parking. By 1:40 pm, we were officially on our backpacking adventure.

At the trailhead.

The very first thing, we had to cross a creek! Fortunately, it was September and not as buggy as July would have been. I was also pleased to see lupine poking out from a pine tree right away; apparently we weren't too late for wildflowers! We settled into an easy gait through meadow and forest.

The River Trail. Notice the little creek to the right?

Lupine peeking through a pine.

Panorama of our trail view to northeast.

Soon a gorge opened up to our left where the middle fork of the San Joaquin River cuts through. The sun was really beating down on us, and we stopped to admire the view and rest a brief moment or two. A couple tugs of water, and we resumed the trail. Now we were clambering over rock high above the river's side. Even in the middle of the rocky wall, penstemmon still persisted, adding brilliant color.

The River Trail cuts high above the middle fork of the San Joaquin River.

Scarlet penstemmon blooms in the rock wall.

The trail curved away from the riverside once again, and we found ourselves in wildflowers and cedar trees once again. We seemed to be making good time, and before long we were catching sight of Lake Olaine. We opted not to stop, though, other than long enough for me to snap a few shots. We were trying to push on to take a break at Shadow Lake.

First glimpse of Lake Olaine through the trees.

Panorama of Lake Olaine.

Anderson's Thistle.

I love the texture of the cedar bark!

Looking NE at one teat of "Two Teats" Mountain.

By 3:15 pm, we all needed a snack stop. We shucked our packs, sat on some logs alongside the trail, and ate some homemade jerky while resting our feet. My brother checked his GPS; 2.5 mi so far. We didn't dally there long; we had wanted to get to Shadow Lake before we took a break, and we still weren't there yet.

We hoisted our packs back on and set out again. We soon met the intersection where we crossed the San Joaquin River, leaving it and the River Trail, to head to Shadow Lake and on to Lake Ediza. Thankfully, there was a nice bridge for us to cross the river and pick up the Shadow Lake Trail. We stopped briefly to snap a picture of the San Joaquin River, more a creek this close to its headwaters, then headed on the next leg of trail for our trip.

The middle fork of the San Joaquin River is barely a creek this close to its headwaters.

As we climbed up the switchbacks over the rock, we were treated to a great view behind us of Mammoth Mountain, and a ridge in the foreground that DH thought looked like a location in The Lord of the Rings. To the right of us and high above the valley through which the San Joaquin flows, I could see where rock was fractured in columns similar to the Devil's Postpile.

Looking back at Mammoth Mountain,
the LOTR ridge in the foreground.

Mammoth Mountain.

Zigzagging up the rock, Mammoth in distance.

Panorama from the trail looking back
toward Mammoth Mountain.

Glacially fractured rock makes columns high above us to the northeast.

Cool cedar tree below us as we wend our way up.

I stayed busy snapping pictures as we wound our way up and over the rocks. DH and my brother pointed out shots for me to take.

"Guess I'm your photographer," I told my brother. "Glad you could do some hikingforhope."

"Looks to me more like we're your support staff," he countered. Yep, they were carrying all my food and the community equipment like stoves and water purifiers. Where I'm able to go ultralight (figure 15-20 pounds with my water), they were each carrying about 45 pounds. Support staff? Touche. They keep me out here; I'll shut up and take the pictures.

My brother poses by a twisted cedar
with Mammoth in the background.

Finally the trail over the rock curved away from the side of the valley through which the San Joaquin flows and back toward the west, where we could see the Shadow Creek snaking down in the distance. Soon my brother was feeling every bit of the 45 pounds and had to stop to rest on the rock.

"I'm starting to feel the altitude," he explained as he caught his breath. Our training was paying off; we weren't feeling the altitude yet at all. But my feet were sure feeling the rocks, and a rest was just fine with me!

As we drew closer to the creek, I could see green shimmering on the mountainside in the now late-afternoon light. At first, I thought it might be where moss or algae or lichen had taken up residence, fed by spray from the falling water. But as the trail brought us to just across the river from the rock wall, I could see the green shimmer was IN the rock. Olivine! Made by volcanic activity, you know its gemstone by the name peridot. How beautiful! The shimmer reminded me of the dust that would gather on my legs from green sand beaches...

Olivine in the rock wall shimmers green in the late-afternoon light.

Shadow River waterfalls give away the lake's location.

The sight and sound of the waterfalls kept me entertained as we made the tedious climb up the natural rock dam wall that contains Shadow Lake. Boy, was I ready for that break! Even though we'd taken one earlier, I still wanted to just "chill" lakeside for a bit. That first view of Shadow Lake was a happy sight!

Climbing up the natural rock dam of Shadow Lake.

First glimpse of Shadow Lake.

The water was a gorgeous color, and so clear. Ahead of me, I could hear people splashing, shrieking, and laughing. Before long, a couple came into view, swimming to the shore.

"Come on in, the water's warm!" they joked, then laughed and scrambled out. "No thanks; I'll skip it for now." Gotta keep pushing on!

Love that Sierra water!!!

The trail takes us alongside Shadow Lake.

I spied some cool rock formations stretching out into the lake by where our trail was taking us to the river feeding the lake, and headed for them. (Our common pattern on this trip is to follow the river exiting the lake up to the lake itself, then find the water flowing into the lake and follow it up to the next higher lake.) It felt good to drop my pack and poles and head out to the end of the rocks. I peered into the water. A beautiful rainbow trout swam a mere two feet away. "I LOVE IT!!!!" I decided to sit down and watch awhile. DH joined me as I snapped pictures and we looked at the darkening forest in the direction we were headed. Uh, better not tarry too long!

Shadow Lake panorama.

We hoisted the packs back on and picked up our poles. I stopped long enough to snap a few wildflower pictures as we left the meadow and headed further into the forest, following the inlet water.

Meadow wildflowers.

The incoming river to Shadow Lake.

A look back at Shadow Lake as we follow the inlet waters.

Riverside wildflower.

Almost immediately, we met with the junction of the John Muir Trail. We figured out which way to go, turned right, and headed up the JMT toward the junction with the Lake Ediza trail.

These portions of our trail kept us alongside the river, which constantly appealed to us with its everchanging beauty. We could tell we were climbing higher and higher in elevation, as the water beside us was always tumbling down waterfalls.



We found our turnoff to Lake Ediza and left the JMT. The shadows were getting longer and longer, and the tips of the peaks were all that were still getting direct sunlight. I wasn't sure we could make it all the way to Lake Ediza before dark. Sure, we have headlamps, but I didn't want to miss the scenery! We continued scrambling over the rock trail as fast as we could. We were averaging 0.9 mi/hr; not bad.

The sinking sunlight strikes the peaks.

Resting. That rock wears on you!

If there was a marked junction to Cabin Lake, we must've missed it. There was one little footpath that might have been it; it was impossible to tell. So I had no idea how much further we had to go to Lake Ediza. We were still climbing up, and the water was still falling down.






We left the riverside, but were still closeby. The ground was softer here, and meadow surrounded us. Finally my feet could take it no more. I'd only promised my brother 5 mi each day, and Lake Ediza was further away from Agnew Meadows than that! "ENOUGH!" I called. "Let's find a place to camp. We're in a nice meadow area, and my feet have HAD IT."

The valley we were in was already in deep shadow, and we were close enough to the river for water yet far enough away to avoid mosquitoes. To continue on to Lake Ediza not only meant tromping on tired feet, it also would mean going in the dark and missing the sights. It also meant we would have to tramp all the way around to the far side of the lake to camp, as camping is limited to certain areas. We all saw the sense in stopping, and picked a good spot far enough off the trail to set up our little camp.





My brother checked his GPS; 5.02 mi. Told ya my feet didn't want to do more than 5 mi a day any more! It was almost 7:00 pm, and we were somewhere between the JMT and Lake Ediza at an elevation of 8670'. DH and I weren't even feeling the elevation yet, although my brother (who lives back East) did.

We boiled some water and enjoyed a delicious dinner of Cream of Chicken soup, jerky, salami, and macaroni and cheese. We ate as I watched the last of the light behind the now-just-visible Minarets. Tomorrow we would have a short hike, then a whole day to enjoy Lake Ediza. Life is good!

The distant Minarets.
We're going to see them closeup!

DH and my brother headed down to the river to filter fresh, cold water for our absinthe. I saw their headlights coming back...then going past. "Hey, where are you going?" I hollered. I need the water for the absinthe!

La louche was especially good with the cold fresh Sierra water, and we all enjoyed it. Afterward, my brother headed to his tent. We topped off with some hot cocoa, then lay down on our pads to stargaze and sleep. I saw one satellite before cloud cover obscured my view, and I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

And that ends our first day on the trail.

Home From The Sierras

Sierra Backpack 2009

Ansel Adams Wilderness

"The Lakes Tour": Olaine, Shadow, Ediza, Iceberg, Cecile, and Minaret Lakes

We made it home Monday night, a day later than planned, after adventures in automotive issues. But being in public (and public restrooms) all that day took its toll; Tuesday morning I woke up with swollen lymph nodes and a 99.6 deg temperature. I took some acetaminophen before my weekly infusion and only ran one errand afterward. It's clearly no time to push.

Wednesday, I still felt a bit on the puny side, but was still doing my best to ignore whatever infection I might have picked up. I saw the oncologist; he was excited for my latest backpacking accomplishment as well as happy to tell me that MY LEFT VENTRICLE EJECTION FRACTION HAS FINALLY RETURNED TO ITS BASELINE!! It has been stuck at 55% since February, but is now back to 60%. In addition, my saturated blood oxygen, stuck at 96% since the open heart surgery, is back to its baseline of 98%! THESE NUMBERS ARE A DIRECT ANSWER TO PRAYER!!!

By Thursday, I knew I was going to have to cancel my plans and give in a little to the infection my body is fighting. I ended up sleeping off and on, around the clock, till today.

The backpack itself was excellent, with one truly GONZO day of cross-country (it would've been nice to have had country to cross; we did nothing but boulder scramble and climb down a cliff). I didn't run out of camera battery till the last day, so I have hundreds of pictures to sort through. In the meanwhile, here's a few Panorama Stitches I did when I was stuck in bed Thursday that you can enjoy.

As usual, click on any picture to be immediately transported to Heaven on Earth --- er, I mean, to see the larger version!

Peace!

I swear we speed-walked past Lake Olaine!

Shadow Lake as we begin losing daylight.

Our first good look at Lake Ediza. My brother on the left.
The Minarets, Mt. Ritter, and Mt. Banner in background (L to R).

Coming around Lake Ediza to camp. My brother at right.
The Minarets, Mt. Ritter, and Mt. Banner in background (L to R).

Sunset while fishing on Lake Ediza -- fresh native rainbow trout, baby!

Our first good look at Iceberg Lake.
DH pointing toward our route over the rocks by the snow and up the next pass.

The Minarets rising above Iceberg Lake.

Leaving Iceberg Lake. Check out the rock we've been climbing over to get here!
That's what is called a "use trail" or "footpath."


The beautiful, remote, alpine Cecile Lake.


Leaving Cecile Lake. All that boulder crawling! With packs!


Our first view of Minaret Lake. We still have to climb down the cliffs.


Heading around Minaret Lake.

Packed and Ready to Go

Twelve Pounds!

We will be heading out tomorrow afternoon for the Sierras. I weighed my pack; with all my gear and clothes (but no water yet), it weighs 12 pounds. That's GREAT for ultralight backpacking; I can stay out indefinitely with what I've got. (I could go even lighter if I want to give up my creature comforts of 2.5" sleeping pad, down pillow, and change of clothing...which I don't!)

Of course, the guys will be carrying the food and community items (water filter, Jetboil, bear can, etc). They are both carrying ~40-45 pounds. We have enough food to last at least 5 days.

We plan to head north out of Agnew Meadows, past Olaine and Shadow Lakes to Ediza Lake for our first night out. Then we will drop down to Iceberg Lake. I am trying to talk my brother into staying out a little longer on the trail and dropping down a little further south to Deadhorse and Beck Lakes, then coming into the Postpile via Johnson Meadows.

Whatever; it's all good. And having grown up in Alaska, my brother and I are equipped to deal with whatever comes our way. [When my brother was 12, my mother dropped him off in the middle of BFE and let him hike 25 miles across the Alaskan wilderness, fording something like four rivers, over several days in the heart of bear season -- all by himself! Oh wait--she felt that pang at the last minute and sent the dog (bear bait) with him!]

One thing I know for sure: It's always an adventure! And I'm still going!!!

Back Again

Saturday, September 5

Back to the Hot Springs
0.5 mi (roundtrip)
300' elevation change (each way)
avg. 23% grade

Big Blue needed an alternator replaced, and we needed to shake her down good before we head up into the Sierras on Tuesday. And the smoke is still ridiculous here. So I decided to take DH to the hot springs on Saturday for these reasons and more. Hey, I said I'd be back again, and I meant it!

It was much easier, quicker, and less strenuous this time since I knew now exactly where we were going. The hike seemed shorter and easier this time. But when we were still on the switchbacks, we came across an older gentleman resting on a rock. He was shaking, having trouble breathing, and was missing deep chunks of flesh where blood streaked his arms, elbows, knees, and legs.

We stopped immediately to offer assistance. He told us he had missed a turn in the trail and taken a tumble down a granite chute, and that he was still very shaken up. Quickly assessing him, he seemed slightly in shock and slightly dehydrated. Other than some nasty granite bites, scrapes, and cuts, he was not injured such that he needed more than first aid and rehydration.

DH offered to walk him back to his vehicle. "I hate to come all this way and not get there," he said; a sentiment to which I could relate. "How much further is it?"

I was floored. Here he was, 71 years old as it turns out, hiking alone (!!!) on an unfamiliar trail in steep, unforgiving terrain to a location he's never been. This is one good reason why I am sometimes reluctant to tell the world via the internet precisely where I have gone. It turns out Will Rogers was right: 'common sense ain't common' in this world.

DH led him by both elbows each step of the way down to the springs. It took them 45 min (and the gentleman smoked two cigarettes along the way!!!) to walk what took me 3 min to walk. And you know I go slow!

A paramedic who had gloves and a good first aid kit took over for DH when they finally made it to the springs. Everyone there of all ages assisted; that's how it is in these older parts of SoCal.

There were always at least a baker's dozen of people rotating through the hot springs throughout the day. There were all different stages of undress from shorts, to bikinis, to the way God made 'em. Wow, what a motley crew we made! Yet everyone got along and respected the place.

And that's another reason why I don't always like to state explicitly where I've been...as the Eagles sang, "You call some place paradise, kiss it goodbye." And this place is definitely a form of paradise. I think the stones set in the pools there say it all: Blessed Waters.

Click on any picture to see larger version.

We soaked all day and I amused myself taking pictures underwater with the new camera. I also tried out the video feature (not too successfully) on the guys braving the rapids to swim across the river. They would go off the rope swing, swim across the river to the rocks, jump off the rocks, then swim through the rapids back to the pools. (I wish I had gotten people going off the rope swing, but I was just too busy relaxing to keep my camera in hand.)

Underwater.

Dropped off the rope swing.

Going across to jump off the rocks.

Coming back through the rapid water.
These guys spent all summer getting strong enough to do this!


We enjoyed the slow ride home (shorter distance; longer time) and made it as the last trace of light was gone from the western sky. All the way, we were driving into the almost preternatural blackness of the smoke-filled eastern sky. I was glad for the respite, but now it's back to the fires.

Next up for hikingforhope is our Sierra trip! I'll be off-line for awhile as I enjoy these beautiful mountains of ours on this magnificent planet we call Earth.

A Cowboy Comes Home

August 31, 2009

Riverside Hot Springs
0.5 mi trail (roundtrip)
300' elevation change (each way)
(avg. 23% grade)

Well, as you might have heard, the forest in my "backyard" has been, is, and will be on fire for the next couple weeks at least. They've actually had to close the forest. So far, all our friends' homes have been spared, and all the animals are safely evacuated from both Devil's Punchbowl and the Wildlife Waystation. We are very grateful!

But gratitude aside, life here is still impacted quite a bit by the fires. I was up till 4 a.m. Sunday night/Monday morning, putting damp towels in door jambs and anywhere I thought smoke might be coming in. Even with the house closed up and the air conditioning on, the smoke is still overwhelming. I had asthma attacks all day and night Sunday.

By the time I got up 3 hr later, I'd decided I'd had enough of the smoke. The wind had come up and was blowing the smoke a little more directly west-east, hugging the mountains, so we finally had a little bit of respite from the smoke -- not much, but some. I was determined to get away from it.

I called up one of my most special friends, who had literally JUST moved back here after a multi-year stint living in Texas. We hadn't seen each other yet, and we had planned to go to Big Rock Creek today. With the smoke and fires, that was obviously out of the question.

"Wanna go on a roadtrip?" I asked him. "Sure!" was the reliable answer. I told him what I had in mind, and he packed accordingly while I drove all the way across the valley to pick him up.

I'd heard of an area on a river that had a series of hot springs. I'd been wanting to go check it out and see if I could find them. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to catch up with a special friend, get out of the smoke, and find this group of hot springs.

Yes, like the previous hot springs trip, I am purposely not naming where it was (although I'll be happy to show you in person).

And our friends and loved ones should be very happy we did the recon for this trip; we spared them a lot of wrong turns, extra miles, and searching for the right little trail in a place criss-crossed with human-made and cow trails! At least it was a beautiful drive. Following the river, we were constantly rounding the next bend to see yet another set of beautiful waterfalls tumbling over giant boulders. So we didn't mind the wrong turns and extra miles; it's an adventure!

Click on any picture to see larger version.

River falls.

Trying to find the exact location of the springs proved difficult, as our hiking instructions were just as bad as our directions on how to drive there. It was over 100 deg as we hiked down and up one steep hill; the sweat was literally raining off of us. I guess my friend should have known he'd wind up doing some real hiking for hope! Finally we realized where the trail was. It looked like a road compared to the cow paths!

Heading down, it was obvious we'd need real energy to hike back up when we were done. Switchbacks zigzagged us down the steep grade. There was some shade, but it was still blazing hot. We came across the first pool, the "bathtub" hot spring. We rinsed the sweat off in the "bathtub"; the minerals in it are immediately obvious and soften the skin. The water was not too hot to enjoy, although the sulfur smell was more obvious at this location. We ate our dill pickles and rinsed off again. Then we headed down the trail to the riverside hot spring pools.

The "Bathtub."

Riverside hot springs.

Crystal clear spring water adjacent to the rushing river.

So inviting!

Like many hot springs, the norm is nude bathing; so we were not at all surprised to see nude people lounging around the pools. We, of course, kept our clothes on. Too many miles and scars in addition to not being twenty anymore!

Right next to the river.

Pick which pool feels right to you.

Of course I tried taking a picture underwater!

Try seeing things from my point of view, okay?

Am I supposed to remember what happened after that? 'Cause all I remember was soaking and talking, and sighing at the idyllic beauty and wishing I had my fishing pole! We stayed for HOURS. It was after 5 when we decided to head back up the hill.

An enjoyable late afternoon soak.

One last look before we go (but we'll be back).

It was a slow hike back up the hill, and it took a little longer than it probably takes most people, but at least we made it! We headed for home, enjoying the rolling hills and tall mountains as we roamed from valley to canyon to valley.

Distant reservoir and the valley below us as we leave.

A leisurely drive -- with good reason!

Roadtrip -- the perfect way for friends to catch up!

Our beautiful Golden State.
Green hills in the winter; gold in the summer.

As soon as we got to the desert again, we could see the plume of smoke in our local mountains had moved even further east. Back to the smoke again! But at least we had a nice break from it. Life is still good!