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  • Backpacking from South Lake to Long Lake

    Backpacking from South Lake to Long Lake

    Anticipation

    Excitement builds. Daphney and Jayden can’t wait. Last year’s backpacking trip felt like a proud accomplishment. This will be a trip bigger than the last, and this will be Myles’s first such trip. It’s Friday evening of Labor Day weekend. Yan and I are doing some final packing. “We’re going to wake up at midnight to get ready,” they say. I have them set their alarms for 5:00 am so we can hit the road early.

    On Saturday morning, the kids wake up before me. They have waffles. For lunch at the trailhead, I heat two frozen baguettes I had made earlier and parbaked. The car is loaded, and we head out right on time.

    Menacing clouds follow us along the drive north on the 395. We arrive in Lone Pine and take a rest stop at the Eastern Sierra Interagency Visitor Center. The wind nearly rips off my car door as I dash out. The ranger, in monotone, says, “There’s a wind advisory throughout this area until tomorrow.”

    We make it to the South Lake parking lot in good time, half an hour before schedule. My friend Kevin is already there on the lookout for us, bundled up and braving the elements. I find one of the last remaining parking spots. Our picnic lunch takes place inside the car while it rains and hails. The kids don’t seem concerned; they love rain anyways.

    Bishop Pass Trail to Long Lake

    Kevin and his son Nico join us at the trailhead. Myles is in my front baby carrier, and everyone has their own backpack. The path heads south, taking us along a gentle uphill by the east bank of South Lake. Several switchbacks later, we reach the John Muir Wilderness boundary. Daphney and Jayden demand rest stops—a lot of them, such that the stops seem longer than the actual time spent hiking.

    The final uphill push brings us to a shallow notch, and beyond that, we glimpse a body of water. Long Lake at last! We emerge through the trees, walk past a large grassy area, and crest a pile of boulders. Here, we pause to take in the expansive view of Long Lake and Mt. Goode. This scene looks vaguely familiar, from the last time I was here twelve years ago. The winds continue to howl; we quickly cross the stream and wander up the trail to find sheltered sites.

    Near the waist of the lake, a large granite outcrop provides windbreak. We set up on two small sites that are tucked between the rocks and trees. I crack fresh eggs for the egg drop soup. The spinach noodles with home-pickled Napa cabbage cook in the other pot. This is the perfect meal for such a cold and windy evening.

    We watch the clouds race along like shape-shifting horses galloping across the gray expanse. Soon, some of the clouds glow bright red as the sun fleetingly peeks at them.

    The evening routine is the same: wash dishes, have dessert (mango sticky rice), brush teeth, and tuck in. It’s 8 o’clock, and we’re all in bed. At 2:30, I wake up and see shadows of tree branches on our tent; I figure that the sky must have cleared enough for the moon to shine through. The winds continue to rattle our tent and branches around us. Through the night, Myles requires constant feeding from Yan.

    Rest Day at Long Lake

    The pre-dawn sky is decorated with puffs of orange and golden fleece. Mt. Goode stands sentinel, guarding the far end of the lake, and along the Inconsolable Range, Picture Puzzle with its forked peak pierces the sky. The fleecy clouds turn pale as they tumble across the brightening sky.

    We have burritos filled with hash brown potatoes and vegetarian taco meat. Kevin and Nico pack up to leave. After goodbyes, we backtrack the trail and lazily explore the north end of Long Lake. Back at the large grassy area, the kids find a burrow—probably from a marmot or other rodent. They build a canopy of branches cemented with mud from the nearby pond. It’s a shelter for “MitMot.”

    Overlooking the large field and under the shade of some pine trees, I find a large flat area for a tent. I decide to move campsites. I retrace my steps back to the large outcrop and roll up the tent, with all the bags and pads still inside. The entire package goes on my head and I haul it down the trail, back across the stream, and up to the new site. It’s beautiful, and the view is panoramic. The family returns with me to retrieve the remaining things we had left at the other campsite.

    We have dried apricots, nuts, crackers, and cheese for lunch. I bring the kids to the trailside inlet pond and kite a #16 elk hair caddis fly at the end of my line. The fish are watching. In the blink when the fly hit the surface, I get a strike. The kids brim with excitement. We have three brook trout to add to lunch. I gut them, and Jayden helps me with the salt and pepper. From my herb pack, I slice garlic and stuff the fish with fresh thyme and minced chives. The butter sizzles. Soon, we’re picking at crispy-skin trout with our chopsticks.

    In the afternoon, the winds die down and the sky clears. We hike in to explore the headwaters of Long Lake. The kids find a little snow field to play in. After snacking along the lakeshore, we return to make dinner: broccoli cheese soup and spinach tortellini with extra-virgin olive oil and grated Parmesan cheese. Then, we have cinnamon apple with crunchy granola crumble for dessert.

    By 7 o’clock, we’re tucked in. Knowing that our tent is facing south and that the moon will rise later tonight, I set my alarm for 8:50, as that’s when astronomical dark night begins. Feeling anticipation, I wake up a few minutes before that and step outside. The landscape around me is illuminated by starlight, and the Milky Way glows brightly above Mt. Goode. I had forgotten to bring the ball-head attachment, so I rig a makeshift tripod setup and take several shots.

    Final Day in the Wilderness

    The rest of the family wakes up after sleeping for eleven hours, likely off and on. I am the first to emerge from the tent. The sky is calm and clear. Evening dew had crystalized, and each footstep makes a light crunch in the frost. Long Lake is a mirror, reflecting the first light on Mt. Goode and Hurd Peak.

    For breakfast, we have brown sugar-topped oatmeal enriched with dried coconut, blueberries, slivered almonds, and flaxseed. Afterwards, we stand by the lake, watching the sunlight slowly creep down the steep face of Hurd Peak and hit the lake. Then, in less than a minute, the entire lake and grassy field glow bright. The frost vanishes in the next instant. As the kids stare at the pine branch and mud canopy, MitMot emerges from the burrow. It turns out to be a ground squirrel.

    We pack up and bid farewell to the mountain peaks, Long Lake, the trout, MitMot, and our beautiful campsite. One the way back, we only stop once. We have a pre-lunch snack at the junction to Treasure Lakes. Soon, we pass the John Muir Wilderness boundary, retrace our steps along South Lake, and emerge from the aspen thicket to arrive at the parking lot.

    Making Memories

    This trip will no doubt turn into those big mileposts that mark the passing of time. At first, I wasn’t sure how momentous these trips are, but two days ago, as we arrived at Long Lake, Jayden asks me, “Are you going to filter water using the red pump you used last year?” Hearing that, I knew that for the kids, this trip will be at least as memorable as the last, another early waypoint in their journey of life.

  • Mono Basin and Little Lakes Valley

    Mono Basin and Little Lakes Valley

    This first day of the trip, we arrive safely at the Mosquito Flat backpackers’ campground. Brad, Grant, and Max had gone up earlier to get the bear canisters and to pick up the permit, which was in my name, and Jeff and Jeong Mi rode in my car, leaving behind all cell and data connection; we’ll be unplugged for the next few days. We had met up in Bishop and had dinner at the pizza restaurant at the north end of town. Now at Mosquito Flat, we enjoy dessert of hot cider with dark chocolate. Grant and Max make a warm campfire, and soon, it starts to rain.

    The gentle drizzle continues for the whole night, and by the next morning, everything outside the tent is completely soaked. We organize all of the food according to the grid, and then we pack up and set out toward Mono Pass. Cloud cover cools our climb above treeline. Right at the Pass, we stop for lunch, and it’s here that Max starts to develop altitude sickness. We quickly cross over into Sierra National Forest, descend to Golden Creek, and then push on to Fourth Recess Lake.

    A tall waterfall feeds Fourth Recess Lake, which stretches out like a fallen leaf, the waterfall being the stem. Clean up feels so good after a long day of hiking. After dinner, we sit around sipping hot cider and watch the sky turn from blue to purple to black.

    Friday is a short day. The lake is a mirror this morning. After breakfast, we take the short hike up into Pioneer Basin. We decide to hike to the far end of Lake 2, where a beautiful lakefront campsite awaits. On this layover day, I hike up to the ridge just east of our private lake, and from there, I have a birds-eye view of Mono Pass and Fourth Recess Lake. Dinner tonight is tom kha soup with Thai peanut noodles followed by dark chocolate cheesecake.

    This wide open basin provides a great backdrop for night photography. The crescent moon sets behind Mt. Hopkins. Soon, stars emerge on the cloudless sky.

    We all get up early on Saturday, as we are nervous about making it back across Mono Pass. Again, Max feels the effects of altitude around treeline. After a short break at the drainage of Trail Lakes, we make the final summit push. We quickly descend to the meadow below Ruby Lake, where the boys take a nice long nap to recover.

    The original plan was to make it to Chickenfoot Lake, but now out of energy, we are glad to just settle down at Marsh Lake in Little Lakes Valley. This turns out to be a charming location—a small private lake lined with wildflowers. We make miso soup and curry with rice for dinner and go for a short walk to Heart Lake before turning in.

    On this last day, I am the first to get up to catch the first light. Again, this lake is like a mirror. Only a few of us have breakfast, some choosing instead to wait until we get into town. The hike out is much shorter than expected. After loading up the car, we drive into Bishop and have brunch at Erick Shat’s Bakkerÿ. On the way back, we stop in Lone Pine to return the bear canisters.

    The rest of the trip home goes smoothly. Along the way home, we all plug back in, and at the same time, remembering what it was like to be unplugged for a few days while making memories that will last a lifetime.

  • South Lake to North Lake: Day 3

    South Lake to North Lake: Day 3

    September 2

    This day would be the longest. I wake up to a beautiful morning. The air is crisp, the mosquitoes are gone, and my tent held up to the wind. I had guyed out Brad’s side of the tent to give more lateral headroom to the A-frame profile, and he says that it’s better. Hot coffee, although the instant variety, is surprisingly good on this cold morning at nearly 11,000 feet. Hot oatmeal is good too.

    Morning routine after breakfast takes me scouting out a spot with toilet paper in hand. I walk south to an area behind some trees and pick out level ground. From this vantage point, I can see the entire valley. Suddenly, I see trail, and I realize that it is the trail that we traversed the previous day. I have a clear view, and I am sure that anyone coming up the trail would have a clear view as well. Thankfully, it is too early.

    There isn’t much condensation on the tent, so packing up is easy. We follow the trail and end up scrambling up a large boulder pile before realizing that the trail had actually crossed the creek. We backtrack, and soon, we head up the trail toward Muir Pass. A high alpine meadow rests on the plateau overlooking Lake 10880. Then, we climb above treeline. Helen Lake is a beautiful, deep blue body of water rimmed with bright snow. We have a little snack here.

    The last little push to the pass takes place over mostly snowfields with well-established tracks. Muir Hut comes into view. From here, the desolate northern expanse looks like moonscape dotted with blue gems, deep lakes made up of snowmelt. We spend a lot of time checking out the Hut, taking pictures, and having lunch. After we finish, several groups of hikers arrive from north and south. It becomes a crowd, and we figure that it must be time to leave.

    We pass by large Wanda Lake, then Sapphire Lake, and finally stop at Evolution Lake inlet for another lunch break. The noontime sun beats pretty hard in this high environment, and we almost overheat. Brad washes his face and bandana, and I dunk my head in the cool stream. We also refill our water containers for the trip down from here.

    Evolution Lake twists, turns, and tucks among boulders, rock piles, and peninsulas. It takes us a long time to reach its outlet. From here, we start our descent to Evolution Valley. We rest on a large slab of granite with an open view of the valley. Brad takes a nap in a gently-contoured spot with a rock pillow. Staring down from here, it’s like flying, lifting off from the mountainside.

    The trail flattens out at Colby Meadow, and we soon arrive at a large campsite in McClure Meadow. It’s a nice site, but we figure that we can find better. We walk further down the trail, pass a site that is closed to restoration, and come across another place. There is already an orange MSR tent pitched there, so we walk around and beyond it to a large flat spot. A large clean granite slab forms a low ridge between the site and the river. This proves to be a perfect spot. A few steps away from our campsite, one gets the best view of McClure Meadow and the rugged ridgeline of the Sierras in the background. I am happy we ended up here. Brad is happy that we finally found a spot and can now settle.

    Tonight’s dinner is Tom Yum Soup and Thai Peanut Noodle. The fresh lime makes such a difference. We both agree that Asian meals tend to work better. While we have dinner, the mosquitoes have theirs. Brad puts on his bug protection, complete with a netting hood. I’m nearly immune. Because we are now lower than 10,000 feet, we are allowed to have a fire. Brad builds a small one right on the granite slab. The ambiance is nice. We have dark chocolate cheesecake for dessert along with hot chocolate spiked with cayenne pepper. My camera takes star trail pictures while we sit and talk around the fire.

     
  • South Lake to North Lake: Day 2

    South Lake to North Lake: Day 2

    September 1

    A dusting of frost covers nearly everything. I first notice this on the backpacks just outside the tent. My towel is frozen stiff. There is bad condensation inside the tent because it’s so cold outside. The cure, of course, is a nice helping of hot coffee. Starbucks Via. Being in charge of the rest of breakfast, Brad measures out servings of oatmeal and dried mix of almonds, coconut, and an assortment of berries. Yes, the caloric allowance has been accounted for.

    After loading up the packs, we head down into LeConte Canyon. The Black Range forms a wall directly in front of us across the canyon. Dusy Branch cascades alongside our descent, and the large waterfall right after the footbridge presents us with many photo opportunities.

    Soon, we reach the junction with the John Muir Trail. We register ourselves. We hike through scenic Little Pete Meadow and then through the forest cover at the edge of Big Pete Meadow. Switchbacks take us up toward Muir Pass. We meet hikers coming from the other direction, and I ask some of them about conditions. Helen Lake is too frozen to stay at, and I know that there are campsites at an unnamed lake just below that.

    We arrive at Lake 10880. While there is a very nice peninsula at the lake’s outlet with great campsites, the biologists have deemed this area to be a frog protection zone. We find our site on a high ridge overlooking the outlet stream. Behind a big rock pile, a small trail leads to the edge of a bluff facing the canyon.

    This night’s dinner would turn out to be the worst of them all. The black bean soup is tasty, but I will soon conclude that watery soups are much better in the wilderness. The post-dinner routine is pretty much the same—cleaning, hot drinks, dessert, putting away food.

    Brad and I decide to take a stroll along the lake. We sit at the peninsula’s edge watching the sky turn from blue to purple to black. Brad plays music from his iPhone, something you normally try to get away from while seeking wilderness. I tell myself that technology is OK; after all, I did bring a heavy digital camera.

    Setting up the camera, I find a very nice spot just south of our tent, between camp and the high bluff overlooking the approach trail. From here, the view of the tent and the granite ridgeline across the lake are clear. The Big Dipper, with the ladle handle pointing westward, and Polaris come into plain view. I take a few test shots while asking Brad to flit the headlamp around inside the tent to bring even illumination. After getting everything set, I turn on the intervalometer and let my camera click away on multiple 30-second exposures. The plan is for a total of one hour—pictures to stack together as star trails.

    The wind whips around our tent, and this wakes me up. Not being able to sleep, and thinking that the camera is finished, I venture outside to check. It has only been about 45 minutes, but now, I’ve ruined that exposure because of my headlamp light. I figured it would be fine to stop it here, and I bring the camera inside the tent.

     
  • South Lake to North Lake: Day 1

    South Lake to North Lake: Day 1

    August 31

    The noontime sun beats down by the time we arrive at the trailhead. The first part of the trip takes us along the South Fork of Bishop Creek. Before reaching Long Lake, we pass a newlywed couple on their honeymoon, who are planning to spend their first night at Saddlerock Lake. We decide to have lunch at one of the small lakes just before the steep switchbacks.

    The trail zigzags up the slope toward Bishop Pass, alongside the Inconsolable Range. We meet trail crews making adjustments to the steps so that the switchbacks would be more gradual to allow for stock to not stumble. At this point, I am glad to have done some training—running five to six miles every weekend for the past month and hiking up San Gorgonio the previous week.

    Snow blankets the approach to Bishop Pass. Even though the regulations prohibit shortcutting switchbacks, the tracks in the snow go straight up the mountain for the last little bit. Brad leads the summit bid.

    Here, we enter Kings Canyon National Park. The panorama of Dusy Basin unfolds as we descend and pass picturesque lakes and verdant meadows. We have the second serving of Johnnycakes here. Brad had made these the day before, using his amazing recipe that needs to become famous.

    Three miles past the peak of this day’s trip, we reach lower Dusy Basin and settled on a campsite nestled behind some boulders on a small bluff above Lake 10742. Actually, this lake is unnamed, but we will just designate it by its elevation. The first task is to pitch the homemade tent that I put together several months ago. Before the trip, for several reasons, I was nervous about bringing it—uncertain about it holding up for a weeklong trip, and not knowing if Brad would like it. It turns out to be fine.

    After the routine cleanup and laundry, we make red curry to go over rice. It turned out fine, but I could have brought more curry paste. The next steps are part of the usual routine: wash the dishes, have a hot drink and some dessert, brush our teeth, and stow everything away. There being no campfires allowed above 10,000 feet, there isn’t much to do after dark but sleep.

  • South Lake to North Lake: Pretrip

    South Lake to North Lake: Pretrip

    On and before August 31

    The sliding glass door at Clark’s once again opens and closes. I feel as if the checkers are looking at me, wondering why I am back. I had gotten the wrong package; there is no reason that Pad Thai should have fish sauce in it. I walk back in the same Asian food aisle and settle for a different entrée—Thai Peanut Noodles.

    It’s Monday evening before the trip, and I’m putting the final touches on the food plans. For the upcoming backpacking trip through the Sierras, no one wants to carry too much food or end up with too little over six days of hiking, so the best way judge quantity by calories. This has been affectionately called “The Grid.” It works, but that means weighing out peanuts, crackers, and repackaging everything into rationed portions. And the weighing isn’t just for food; it’s for every piece of gear and supplies, including toilet paper. My longtime friend Brad Wilson inspired me to shave ounces, and the result is shed pounds.

    My text pager goes off. From Phoenix, Brad texts me Tuesday afternoon, “At the airport. No turning back now.” In less than two hours, I pick him up at Ontario International Airport and make our first stop at REI to buy two small fuel canisters and a battery for my camera remote. Except for a minor hiccup, the trip to Bishop is uneventful.

    Brad and I organize the food, putting each meal except breakfast into separate bags and lining them up according to The Grid. All the bags go into bear canisters that we will be getting from the ranger station when they open at 8.

    After packing, we drive up toward South Lake and turn in at Rainbow Pack Outfitters. Mr. Allen and his assistant make us breakfast: coffee, bagels, eggs, and potatoes. Then, I follow him to park the car at North Lake’s overflow lot. He shuttles Brad and me back to the South Lake trailhead.