Kearsarge Pass | Center Basin | Forester Pass | Shepherd Pass | Shepherd Creek
Part 3
Breakfast is the same, yet somehow it gets better each morning—hearty oatmeal mixed with honey, pour-over coffee, and scones that hit the spot.
Sunbeams dance on the stream like shards of glass, casting shades of amber, emerald, and turquoise. The inlet at Golden Bear Lake flows stronger today, a subtle shift from yesterday’s calm. We know today’s going to be tough, so we pack up, soaking in the last views of this stunning basin.
Back on the JMT, the trail wastes no time—its relentless ascent toward Forester Pass begins almost immediately. Along the way, we spot a family of Sierra grouse nestled in the brush. The path bends eastward, then curves south, quickly lifting us above the trees into a world of eroded granite and spartan pools.
At 11,654 feet, we hop across an idyllic stream. A large flat boulder by the water is a clear favorite among hikers—a perfect spot to pause. Straight ahead, the notch of the pass comes into view, and the cascading waters seem to sing, their melody drowning out our labored breaths in the thin air. Brad turns to me and says, “If I die before you, I’d like you to scatter my ashes here. Bring my kids with you. Anyone who cares can hike in to visit.” He’s not trying to be morbid, he adds, just that these mountains are so magnificent, so spectacular, and from here, the view is unbeatable.
We shift to happier thoughts as we tackle the switchbacks up to the final lake before the pass. It’s our last chance to snack and fill up on water. The last few hundred feet are grueling, each step demanding a deliberate breath. But soon enough, we make it.
Forester Pass! At 13,200 feet, it is the highest point along the Pacific Crest Trail and lives up to its reputation as being one of the most difficult passes along the JMT.
I peer down the southern side, and the view is dizzying. The trail clings to the granite face, a misstep away from a long fall. Carefully, I place one foot after another, hugging the cliffside as we descend. At the bottom of the steep section, we find a picturesque lake, the perfect spot to break for snacks and refill our water.
The next section is a speedy hike down gentle slopes along the west side of Diamond Mesa. We make quick progress, dropping into the Tyndall Creek drainage basin. Knowing our camp is near the trail to Lake South America, we veer off-trail at 11,400 feet, following the contour lines, dodging boulders and downed pine trees. Before long, our destination—a nameless lake at the same altitude—comes into view.
This lake, which I’ll call Lake 11,400’, is like an infinity pool. The opposite shore forms a low rim, hiding the meadow below. Beyond the rim, Polychrome Peak, Mount Tyndall, Tawny Point, and the surrounding skyline rise dramatically.
We are exhausted, having covered about twelve miles and crossed the notorious pass. The rest of lunch has lost its appeal, so we ditch it and focus on dinner. Tonight’s menu: egg drop soup and beef-flavored ramen with vegetables. The brownies for dessert didn’t survive the trip intact, but they’re still delicious, even eaten with a spork.
As the near-full moon rises behind the eastern peaks, I capture a few shots during the evening’s blue hour. It doesn’t take long before sleep pulls me under.
