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Published: June 29th 2010
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Having scratched the social itch with the meetup.com circuit, I head south towards the southern (high) Sierras. The meetup hiking conditioned me pretty well to tackle some tougher hikes. The first stop is a place where I'd parked and hiked before- South Lake. While before I had only done a short day hike up to Treasure Lake, I decide to give the more compelling pass over the crest of the Sierras (Bishop Pass) a try, since conditions must be far more amenable to hiking now. However, I'll need to backpack it, so I don't have to worry about getting back after dark or feeling rushed. Also, I bring the snowshoes and ski poles just in case.
I park nearby for the night and set out in the morning. The one way distance to the pass is about 8 miles or so- not too far, but there is substantial elevation gain and treacherous scrambling for a good part of it, which makes it more tantamount to a 12-13 mile hike in terms of effort and time. The hike to Bishop Lake, which is just below the pass, is more or less uncomplicated, save for the snowy areas for the last third
Looking back down the rock scramble
To the left, where the snow is, is where the trail normally goes. or so of the way (where I postholed a couple of times). At Bishop Lake, I meet an older Australian hiker (72 years old and doesn't look a day over 60, remarkably) and his well-behaved dog. We chat about potentially hiking the John Muir trail in August, and then I continue on. The trail going up to the pass, which seems tantalizingly close from this perspective, is unfortunately covered with deep snow, going up an impossibly steep slope. Without crampons and harder snow, I've no choice but to scramble up the rocks of a gulley until I reach the pass level, and then snowshoe across to the pass area where the snow-covered terrain is more horizontal. Good thing I brought the snowshoes. The scramble goes well, and by that I mean I didn't slip. Once at the top, I snowshoe as planned over to the broad plateau that constitutes Bishop Pass, and of course is where the actual trail goes over. Most of the plateau is covered in snow, but there are some exposed areas of rock (you can even see sections of the trail), so I'll have somewhere to set up camp.
I set down my pack and
Snowshoein' to the pass
The snow was too soft to walk without postholing, so snowshoes it is. leave a piece of toilet paper on the top that will flutter like a makeshift flag- I want to climb some of the surrounding hills for views, and this will allow me to easily find my backpack again against the monotonous surrounding landscape. I climb a hill that will allow me to get a grand view towards the west. The hill is very bouldery and has good elementary free climbs, which makes it a blast to ascend. At the top, the view doesn't disappoint. I can see the true backcountry of the High Sierra, including the Dusy Basin, and the descent down into the intruiging looking Leconte Canyon. I also walk over to the edge of the ridge that allows me to look down to the basin I just hiked up, for a truly frightening view over a cliff. I'm definitely feeling the elevation though, as at 12,500 feet (or so), every bit of exertion leaves me huffing and puffing.
I can barely see my backpack from here, but it's just visible enough to make out the undignified little "flag" fluttering in the light breeze. Satisfied with the view and the photos I took, I head back down to
my pack and set up camp. After eating a nice dinner (tuna salad sandwich and some chocolate from Trader Joe's), I realize that I've forgotten my pants (no, I am already wearing some shorts). It's starting to get pretty cold, and I've no idea how cold it will get, but I figure it's not that big of a deal, as long as I've got my nice warm down jacket. Though, since I've also forgotten my gloves, I'm not going to be real comfortable until I get in the sleeping bag.
As the day turns to dusk and the sun retreats behind the mountains, the temperature drops rapidly. It's quickly at around 30 degrees. Meanwhile, I'm walking around endlessly in a small circle like some kind of retarded mental patient, with some spare cotton socks on my hands as makeshift gloves. Hey, there's no one around to see me, and it makes me feel warm. I down my half bottle of red wine, and that actually warms me up quite a bit. Eventually, as the stars start to show up one at a time, I check the thermometer- 27 degrees or thereabouts. As long as it doesn't get substantially colder,
Me after climbing a nearby hill
Behind me is the view to the southwest, towards the high Sierras. I should be comfortable enough in the sleeping bag. That's where I head to, and then off to sleep.
I wake up. I have to take a piss, it's dark, and I have no idea if it's 2am or 5am. Not able to fight off the urge, I go just outside the tent and then quickly get back in the sleeping bag to rebuild the warmth I've just wasted. Unfortunately, now I can't get back to sleep. I hate when this happens. Trying fruitlessly to toss and turn my way back to dreamland for, say, 20 minutes, I eventually say f*ck it and get out of the tent. I'm just going to pack up. It's 4:30am (as it turns out) and maybe it'll be light enough to start walking by the time I've packed everything up and eaten something. Everthing goes to plan, and by the time I get going, the sun is just starting to illuminate the sky.
The snow is no longer soft as it was when I hiked in. It's now frozen solid, so there's no need to put on the snowshoes. I make quick progress to the rocky area I scrambled up, but scrambling
down presents a few tricky spots, mainly due to my lack of agility carrying this large pack. Alas, I make it down unharmed and head back down the long trail to the truck, ready for the next hike.
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Jess Hata
non-member comment
Wish I could have seen this. I can just imagine what was going through your head. "Meanwhile, I'm walking around endlessly in a small circle like some kind of retarded mental patient, with some spare cotton socks on my hands as makeshift gloves. Hey, there's no one around to see me, and it makes me feel warm. I down my half bottle of red wine, and that actually warms me up quite a bit." Sounds like it was a great hike. Glad you didn't get yourself into any serious predicaments like the previous hike!