Sequoia-Kings Canyon Loop, September 13-20; 64 miles, 17,000 ft, 8 days.
A rare convergence leads to a trip: I have some free time; my son is available to join me; the weather forecast is good; and there are no fires. I plan a loop hike that is essentially half-Sierra High Route (off trail) and JMT/Rae Lakes trail, with many small diversions I have never done before along the way. The map below shows the final journey where we simplified and did not do most of the diversions I had hoped for.
I am well organized so I can put together two kits and nine days of food for two people in about six hours. However, it is exacting and exhausting.
We time the hike to jump in at the earliest moment where the weather clears up, knowing that the first day could be a bit wet. The Copper Creek trail is a brutal 5,500’ foot ascent to the first camp, so the lack of sun on the first day is actually a welcome circumstance.
I enjoy the clear visual evidence of heavy rains unsullied by footsteps, including incised trails and the scattered leaves of fall.
The weather is perfect until about halfway up. The rain is not heavy but over time we become quite wet.
We go over a minor pass and drop into a lake area with beautiful coloration. We are both quite tired and ready to find a camp short of our intended destination Granite Lake.
A lot of work is required to make such an organized path, which was most likely done for pack-animals over 100 years ago.
We camp just short of Granite Lake on a slightly higher flat area, nevertheless we are next to a bog which means that in the morning all of our equipment is absolutely soaked wet, and it is damn cold.
We sleep late and take the time to dry out all of our equipment before departing.
We drop our packs and walk an extra half-mile to check out Granite Lake. Good for a first quick plunge.
We reach our first major pass, aptly named Granite Pass. It is always exciting to reach the threshold of a pass and find a whole new expansive world beyond. We are close to 11,000 ft and we can certainly feel the effects of high altitude.
To aid a sense of scale, Reeve can be seen in the center of the photo.
I am surprised to find more elaborate trail work as we are far from a trailhead.
A few places require going through minimal fence gates; I wonder if these actually do what they are intended to do.
We named this the “swarming fish rock”.
We reach the larger of the two State lakes. We meet a fellow named Tim from Escondito who is attempting to knock off several days of the High Sierra Route. However he left one day before us and got pinned down by rain for the whole day at Grouse Lake, which is just short of Granite Lake. I do not think he will meet his ambitious schedule.
The next day we reach one of my favorite spots for camping and swimming, a large rock on the largest of the Horseshoe Lakes. It is good for naps in the sun as well.
Gray Pass.
The episode from Gray pass to Red Pass involves a nice sequence that passes by this lake below and a nice modest waterfall I missed when I came through before.
As we make our way up to Red Pass we resolve to stop walking every day by 5 PM and so make for an unnamed lake along the way to camp.
The next day we quickly reach Red Pass and make our way down to Marion Lake.
The steep rubble down to the lake is more stable than I remember and it is an easy ascent. Marion has to be the most deep-blue of the sierra lakes.
Along the way up the hill to Dumbbell Pass we take a dip in this unnamed lake.
Alongside the lake there is this strange spongy growth. I have seen it many times in the Sierra and I avoid stepping on it as it seems quite fragile.
Dumbbell Pass.
The way down is pure talus misery. Ok, it is not so difficult, but it is very tedious and slow. The lake is both so close and so far…
We find a spot north of the Dumbbell Lakes to camp.
The next day we quickly reach Cataract Creek Pass.
Another easy chute down.
Before we reach the lake we elect to turn right to go straight for Upper Basin Cross Pass. It looks do-able on the map, and there are a few cairns and some evidence of use, however at some point we cliff-out. I think there may be a way to pull it off but by this point Reeve is freaking out and wants to go a more obvious route by backtracking and going around Amphitheater Lake. So we drop down an obvious chute, walk along the lake, and then climb back to where we had left the chute to start over.
We cliffed-out somewhere on that hill.
The blue on this map shows the last time I came through here. I hated the drop down to the lake, and also the talus along the lake. The red shows our path including the cliff-out, and also the high side of the lake on the west side which is not only easier than crawling along the lake but can even be called an enjoyable sequence. You have been warned…
We are relieved to find a camp. The day has been tedious and I also find out that Reeve continues to be somewhat traumatized by our cliff experience.
Next up- a string of failures. Reeve’s shoes start to delaminate, putting the whole trip in jeopardy. Note also his slightly puffy fingers; swollen feet and hands is a common occurrence when playing at 11,000 ft.
I do my best triage, but we do not know if this will hold up.
Reeve’s old pack begins to come apart. I do a lot of sewing repair but the material is too old and tears easily no matter how I try to keep it together.
I almost swallow my gold crown while eating some nuts. I am now convinced that we should take the most direct route home which will still take several days.
Some consider Upper Basin Pass to be Class-2, which means it is a “walk-up” with no use of hands. I disagree. Our way up involves plenty of minor non-exposed climbing.
Some may argue that the long ledge on the right constitutes a walk-up situation, but it is harder than it looks in this photo. I just know that my wife would balk at either approach, which for me is the gold standard for discriminating between Class-2 and Class-3.
At the top it is a relief to see the Upper Basin and know that the John Muir Trail/Pacific Crest trail is below. We had hoped to climb the 14’r Split Mountain, seen in the center of the distant range, but with the numerous equipment failures we decide to go the most direct way home and the climb will have to wait for a different trip.
The east side of the pass is indeed Class-2 and innocuous, but it still takes some time and effort to descend.
We see very few hikers on the JMT-PCT highway. Even the hikers comment how it has suddenly become empty. I think the weekend storm convinced many to go home.
It is super windy as we do our best to set up tents next to protecting rocks and trees at Lake Marjorie.
Another day, another pass. Pinchot Pass is our last significant pass.
I spot this strange round thing in the lake; i tis so perfectly round that it does not look natural.
We camp at Wood’s Hole and look forward to a long 15 mile hike back to the car the next day.
Last-day hike sometimes are not enjoyable as one is fixated on completing a trip, but in this case the scenery was great and we enjoyed it.
A note about safety: Events can turn seriously bad in the off-trail wilderness very fast. The majority of people die because of uninformed decisions. The many hazards include river crossings, bad falls and hypothermia. At a minimum, you should carry printed maps and know how to use them; have extensive knowledge of backcountry safety, first aid and best practices; and leave a trip plan with others in case you go missing. I also think that a personal locator beacon is important. Read, take classes, gain experience with small practice trips first. Plan for the worst case and BE SAFE !!!