Alpine Lakes High Route

 This trip was conceived on a distracted workday with the notion that a 3-4 day backpacking trip to the Cascades could be executed with minimal fuss if one just flew to the airport, rented a car and went straight to the trailhead. But what exactly would one do? Some folks have accomplished the Ptarmigan route without a rope, but online threads convinced me that there was more than one glacier to navigate and some quite broken up so that was out. Alpine Lakes High Route was perfect - it passed through beautiful high country without any of the risks posed by glacial terrain.

And so on a Thursday, after an early morning flight from Minneapolis, I was at the West Fork Foss River trailhead by 2pm. Warm, moist air and a dense evergreen forest describes the ensuing hike to Big Heart Lake - 7.5 miles, 3000+ ft from the trailhead. I should have taken it easy but was too ambitious to do so - I had high hopes to explore the area west of Chetwoot Lake (Wild Goat mtn, Big Snow mtn) and perhaps even east towards Mt. Hinman. In the meantime, gorgeous pristine lakes greeted me within my first couple hours on the trail; Trout Lake and the aptly named Copper Lake with its blue green clear waters. A wave of gratefulness passed over me as I saw Trout Lake framed against the forested saddle - what more could one ask for?

Trout Lake

Copper Lake

The trail hugged Copper Lake

 

West Fork valley from high on the trail, Trout Lake below

I was doing well walking at a steady pace duly restoring my faith in uphill climbing abilities but one has to ponder the foolishness of a chap who flies in from across the country and then refuses to camp at one of the said lakes to contemplate life et al. I aspire to one day become the person without ants in my pants who would gladly camp at his Walden for days running.

You can't miss it!

Sunset at Big Heart Lake

I started leisurely the next morning at 930 thinking that I could reach Chetwoot Lake in an hour or so. Boy, was I wrong! The trail got significantly more rugged, plenty of scrambling around rocks and trees as the trail wound its way up and down over the ridgeline separating Big Heart from Angeline Lake. The ridge was breathtaking in more than one way though - it continuously offered magnificent high views of these two lakes. The price of beauty was duly paid in the currency of pain - even so, it was a bargain!

Big Heart Lake

West Fork valley - Delta Lake and Trout Lake (lower), Glacier Peak in the distance

Angeline Lake

 

This and next - Big Heart Lake

 

My arduous hike to Chetwoot clocking in at nearly 3 hrs helped ground my plans. The route consisted of 10 miles on trail hiking up the West Fork of the Foss river followed by a 5 mile off trail boulder-y traverse on the ridgeline forming the headwall of the drainage and finishing with another 10 miles on trail down Necklace Valley into the East Fork. Chetwoot marks the end of the first section - and it dawned on me that the hike was turning out to be harder than I had anticipated. Until now, I had been on trail but once the difficulties of off trail travel were factored in, the going would only get slower and tougher. I was beginning to question not just the possibility of forays onto neighboring peaks but also completing the route itself.

My line of thought in the morning had been to reach Chetwoot quickly and then go towards Wild Goat or if possible, Big Snow mtn on a day trip. Tired and diminished at present, I set my sights lower and decided that a push towards Iron Cap Gap would be preferable. If I crossed over into the other valley, at least I'd be able to complete the trip and perhaps even explore Mt Hinman. Just as I was patting myself on the back for this wise decision, fog started to roll in over the Gold Lake divide. It had been cloudy all day but now it started drizzling and the weather was closing in.

Clouds gliding in over Chetwoot Lake

I claimed a pretty campsite overlooking the lake but I wouldn't set up my tent just yet in the hope of clear weather later on. A family of trees growing in a circle served as my cover and kitchen. The future of the trip was anxiously gone over again and again over a cup of tea as I moodily sat looking at the clouds flowing onto the lake and into the valley. I eventually did realize that the unfolding scene had an ethereal beauty that had to be cherished more fully than a short pitstop. I had a strong, almost compulsive urge to complete my route but what if I couldn't or didn't? Must the outdoor experience foremost be accounted for in distance? Weren't the aesthetics more important? After all, one could run 25 miles anywhere. Didn't maturity dictate that success really meant soaking in and allowing yourself to be touched by your surroundings instead of pursuing bliss on a windswept high rock?

Anyhow, the weather forced my hand and I decided that rest and replenishment be better than bumbling alone in unknown country. Tilman's The Ascent of Nanda Devi kept me engrossed and while his writing is described as dry, I found myself in splits multiple times. It's a riveting classic deserving of its enduring reputation.

Saturday morning dawned foggy but as the sun came out, the sky started to lighten up with hints of blue showing through. This was enough to convince me that I should attempt Iron Cap Pass and try to complete the route. I packed up and left by 830 following a route through the forested knoll that I had surveyed last evening. From Chetwoot, a boulder field marked with cairns ran up the steep hillside but I was partial to the trails running through the forest, partly because of the ease. I found myself on the north side of Azure lake a few minutes later where a couple had chosen an idyllic spot to camp. The easiest out of this lake was to follow the exit stream but seeing as it lead me to Angeline lake, I found myself arguing that perhaps there was a route that cut across these lakes and drainages. However, as the ridgeline containing Iron Cap kept on getting farther away from me, I keenly felt I was on the wrong track. Then, I did something remarkably stupid that inevitably leads to many getting lost - instead of retracing my steps, I decided that climbed directly south above Angeline lake to get to the ridge might afford a shortcut. In this, I was grossly mistaken and over the next two hours as I repeated the same mistake over and over again of pursuing hopeful shortcuts through forest and heather, I found myself cut off by cliffsides, sometimes overlooking Azurite lake and other times Angeline.

A tarn before Azure Lake

I saw Angeline Lake (also next pic) from all possible angles haha :)

The path less taken - Azurite Lake

 

Seeing as I might have to beat a shameful retreat on a beautiful day like this if I didn't get back on track soon, I retraced my steps to Azure lake and asked the couple camped there for directions. They had walked from Necklace Valley over Iron Cap Pass yesterday and having done it in fog themselves, could only say that they consistently walked on boulder fields below the ridge for a long time before entering the lake bowl late in the evening. The best thing to do seemed to me to climb the steep heather slopes out of the lake bowl going directly south towards the ridge. Even if there wasn't a direct way from there, at least it would offer me a high vantage point. As I topped out, I came out on an extensive boulder strewn highland from which Chetwoot lake extended down the same cairned boulder slopes that I had rejected early in the morning, a mere 15 or so minutes away. A fortunate rendezvous just at this moment with a large party informed me that all I had to do was stick to these slopes and traverse while maintaining elevation. In hindsight, I had enough training to have adjudged this route from my topo map especially given all the free time I had the evening before and a study of google earth imagery would have made this obvious. My navigational errors were elementary and slackness stemming from overconfidence was to blame. Beckey's route description would later afford me a little consolation in that there is indeed a variation of the route going from Azure to Azurite lake that later climbs east and onwards to Iron Cap Pass.

 

Climbing above Azure Lake with Angeline Lake in background

Lost in lake wonderland, this boulder field is what I'd been after ;)

Chetwoot Lake, Wild Goat mtn (left) and Tourmaline Peak (right)

Angeline Lake

Nevertheless, I was finally on the right track and this gave me a huge boost of energy. I have a fondness for boulder fields and can catch quite a rhythm hopping from boulder to boulder. I caught up with a group of 3 lady hikers near the tarn below Iron Cap. They were following the GPS trail on AllTrails and had gotten ahead of me despite having started much lower at Big Heart the same day. I must admit to a pathological averseness to GPS trail following - not only does it free one from the need of understanding terrain but I cannot think of a worse symbol of the stresses of modern life than our time on screens. I think that guarantees and assurances of safety are fine but risk and uncertainty are a fundamental component of time spent outdoors and negotiating that leads to a deeper sense of joy and fulfilment.

Iron Cap's tarn

The route kept on traversing over boulder fields as another big lake of the area - Otter, slowly came into view. I soon came upon the crux of the route - a short traverse through a steep grassy gully leading in to the forest on the adjoining cliff band. A slip could have been ugly but the footing was good and a little bit of holding onto a rock at one point was necessary. I was able to pause at a point and take a picture, so while it seemed a tad hairy, it couldn't have been too bad. Close to 6 hours after setting out, I finally took a long break lounging on a big rock above Iron Cap Pass. Otter Lake looked splendid in the valley below while Summit Chief and the Lemah group stood high on the south side. All sorely dry except perhaps Overlook and Summit Chief which still had substantial and very broken up glaciers. I can only hope that this was due to the unusually hot summer Washington has had and in otherwise normal years, there is plenty of snow.

Otter Lake

Crux gully

Looking down ..

I made a move to Tanks lake plateau which would have made a splendid camping spot if not for the tens of hikers already there and the fact that it was wise for me to camp lower down to get out in time tomorrow for my flight. An achingly steep and painful hike down a spur that was all scree had me at Emerald lake where several hikers had seen a black bear the same day. I chatted with an old guy who'd been camping there for a few days and it seemed like a camp spot here arounds would be best since space around Jade lake was rather tight. He assured me that the bear wouldn't give me much trouble since the berry season was in full swing. To his chagrin, I took his advice to heart and decided to camp a mere 50 paces behind him.

Otter Lake from Iron Cap Pass

Overlook Mtn and Lemah group on right (could be wrong)

Beautiful trail for footsore hikers

Tank lakes plateau

First views of Necklace Valley .. probably Jade Lake below

Emerald Lake

My first two days as I had huffed and puffed up the trail, I had often wondered if I was trying too hard to hold on to a former identity of mine. What exactly was the nature of my motives? However, it had been a remarkably full and beautiful day high in the area that put all those doubts to rest. I felt thoroughly vindicated at my initiative. Each and every pore of my body had thrummed with energy and joy throughout the day as I wound into dead ends or hopped on boulders waiting to see what new sights the next turn held. This was it, this was the essence of what I'd been chasing.

I should have stayed in the forest hut nearby since my stay would last barely 12 hours but I was too afraid of the bear for it to be the case. A 3 mile hike down Necklace Valley where the trail is more roots and rocks than dirt to the floor of the East Fork valley and 5 flat pretty miles later, I was at the trailhead. 10 hours later, I was home! My first solo trip was a resounding success - incredible scenery, challenges and hiking. It went without any incident and will pave the way for future trips.

My $40 Coleman tent that has withstood surprisingly violent thunderstorms - highly recommend if you don't have to carry it on your back ;)

Jade Lake

Trail .. ugh

Descending into the East Fork of the Foss river valley

Fall colors lower down

A good trip needs appropriate closure - Skykomish burger and Italian soda. Had to drive so no beer. Uff, so responsible

The National Park Rush

The sun rained down upon on us, searing wind stinged my nostrils and the couple hundred feet we had to hike seemed like miles. Death Valley felt like a world of it's own as promised. The last night hadn't been too comfortable either. As we camped in Furnace Creek in the center of the valley, temps fell to a low of 100s as we lightly sweat our way into slumber. This was after a 9 hour drive where Artem and I had continuously gotten on each other's nerves.

Anyways, in the cauldron that is Badwater, time seemed to dilate and relativity started to be understood. The salt basin at the end of it allowed for a photography break which distracted me enough from my miseries to calm down. As we made our way back, we came across a family in which a girl was being shouldered by her family between fits of coughing and throwing up. We went back faster so that we could get them some water, but they got some assistance by the time we got to them. As we sat back in our cars, our bodies burst into a flood of sweat - the wind had been quietly wicking it away all this while off us!

Furnace Creek, not a very in-demand campsite

Devil's Golf Course - when salt crystals go crazy

This place was provably brutal! No wonder the NPS advised people to not walk around after 10 AM. As Oscar Denton who had recorded the highest ever temperature on Earth in 1913 at 57C/134F noted that, on the day - "It was so hot that swallows in full flight fell to the Earth dead. When I went out to read the thermometer with a wet Turkish towel on my head, it was dry before I returned."

Artem on Badwater salt flats

While unkind, Death Valley is also a geological paradise. A delicately carved natural arch bridge perched above a dry river bed with a meander cut around it by the same river before it resumed its straight course was absolutely fascinating. The winding Artist's Drive with it's collection of volcanic rock deposits - a colorful oasis in the middle of a desert, wow! The Zabriskie Point turned out to be a cool vantage point over interesting rock denudations, but we had to retreat early after a loud French group annexed it unexpectedly!

Artist's Drive

Zabriskie, you can see why the annexation was painful :(

 We drove to Wildrose later, high up in the hills to escape some of the heat and see another side of the region. Salt flats turned into rolling hills with greens and thorny shrubbery. Wildlife sprung up showcasing a thriving world - hares, roadrunners and coyotes! We did a fast hike up Wildrose Peak and saw some glorious sunset colors. Artem figured I liked to fantasize about doing everything - this evening/night hike followed by wine, waking up early (5-6 AM) the next day and driving 4 hours to Yosemite and brought me back to planet earth. We still did the wine though, with a watermelon as dessert. KP's wise words had stuck with me - only a watermelon can help you deal with the madness of Death Valley. Only one problem - now Artem wanted to pack a watermelon in our packs for the hike in to Yosemite!

Wildrose

Our first couple of days in Yosemite were going to be interesting. We were starting in Mammoth and after around 25 miles of hiking, were to join our friend Adi the next evening. I confess it took me a long time to realize how long 1 mile is compared to 1 km! We started at 6p the first evening after floundering around trying to find the trailhead for a while and finally camped a mile up from Shadow Lake as darkness enveloped us. Artem had gotten a thin sleeping bag on the trip because Death Valley, but had later discovered that Inyo and Yosemite would have temps in the 30s and was a little fearful of how the night would go. My snoring didn't help him either!

Eastern Sierra Scenic Byway - on the way to Mammoth

First day welcomes

Necessity is the mother of invention - our patent pending gravity filtration system

Hundreds of people walk the JMT on any given day and we couldn't help thinking it was just a large village and not really wilderness! The string of beautiful lakes we passed in Inyo day made it obvious why - Olaine, Shadow, Garnett, Ruby, Emerald and Thousand Island Lakes. This density of lakes was simply fabulous. While we happily breezed along the lakes early in the day, the next 5-6 miles proved agonizing as we climbed over 2 passes - Island and Donohue. Artem waited for me at the top and we had a good laugh over how hard it was and why we couldn't just camp here anywhere. I think the laughing helped more than the Clif bars to overcome the wretchedness. It was 6 PM and we had to walk atleast 6-7 miles down the Lyell Canyon to meet up with Adi at our rendezvous point. 

Shadow Lake - fucking perfect

Garnett Lake. Hazy skies from Ferguson fire

Thousand Island Lake

We descended sharply yet slowly to the floor, wanting to stay together since night was falling quickly. The moment we touched the valley bottom, Artem turned around and let the mountains know with some of his fingers what he thought of the trail! It fell dark, our headlamps came out and we kept hiking in the hope we were close. I did some quick map-checking and pointed to a ridge line in view expressing we should be maybe half an hour away. We agreed on walking a maximum of 2 miles using Artem's fitbit since we were losing steam. Just a few steps short of those 2 miles, a hiker camping near the trail saw us and came to let us know where Adi was camped - happy coincidence! Our 12 hour, 18 mile day came to a close at 930p as we wolfed our dinner down and tucked in.

Lyell Canyon, from just below Donohue Pass

I woke up early the next day to find a layer of frost on the grass and our backpacks. Poor Artem! Yosemite was wacky - 80s in the day and 20s in the night. Steam rose from the Lyell creek near our campsite as the early slanted rays of the sun filtered through to its surface. Adi had gotten a ton of Indian food with him but we wouldn't eat much - I because the priority was to finish our food (less food equals less weight) and Artem was just afraid of the spices! 

Freezing steaming Lyell Creek

Messy kitchen area - what would Mom say !

We packed up and made a late noon-ish start, heading up the steep hillside of Rafferty Creek from the fork. These two rushed up, while I took it slow, settling into an enjoyable rhythm as I marched to my breath and took some photos. Just a couple hours after starting out, we made a stop at Evelyn Lake in the middle of wide green meadows with granite peaks on the horizon - with not a single person in sight, finally! Cold water swimming with a fair amount of cussing and shouting was followed by lunch - a luxury on trails. 

Artem and Evelyn Lake, one of the few Yosemite places named after a woman

Omg, no longer smelly yayyy!

We arrived in Vogelsang a few minutes later - one of the High Sierra camps where you could book a tent and stay - basically, a much expensive version of Himalayan teahouse treks. We sat by Fletcher creek for a good while, letting our gravity filter do the hard work and I happily meditated to the gentle gurgling of the creek.

The rest of the day passed descending the 3000ft to Merced Lake - sometimes on a run, hopping across rocks. The lake's coming into view was iconic - located in the middle of a densely forested valley that dropped off in the distance, with Half Dome behind in a sky that was being painted red, by a setting sun hiding behind a mountain. It was an amazing amazing view - had we had even 2 litres of water, I would have forced everyone to camp there! We camped the night in the crowded Merced High Camp, amidst giant redwoods and relative warmth. The freaking bottle of wine we'd been lugging the last 40 miles or so was downed - in hindsight, I doubt it was worth the honor! 

Meadows en route Merced

THE VIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Merced Lake up-close

Our fourth day on the trail was the hottest one till now. I slowed down until my body actually started to feel a little cool, giving myself time since we had plenty to complete the 13 miles and 2000 feet ascent to Sunrise Camp. For the second time on this trip, I was realizing that hiking with just a litre of water for the entire day wouldn't scale for longer and it was high time I bought a camelbak. I'd spent most of the day walking solitary, ruminating about nothing and everything and was glad to have Adi alongside in late afternoon - post-lunch periods are neither good for work nor hiking you see!

Backes Ridge. The forest below tells you how dry the valley was

This would end up being a landmark day - for the first time on the trip, we reached a campsite in daylight and that too with 3 hours of it to spare! It felt weird, haha. Sunrise was another one of the High Sierra camps and we were overcome by the temptation to have a hot meal deserving of civilization. We sat on some large rocks watching far-off granite turned red from the sunset with a full moon directly above ready to take over the sky. Alongside, we relished some great grilled chicken with box wine, courtesy the wonderful folks who worked at the camp. Joints and Led Zep conversation kept the liveliness going on the side.

Rangers often lead groups of people on the High Sierra trail (booked tours). Our visit coincided with one such large group and we were lucky to hear a talk from the ranger on the history of names in Yosemite. As he stood under the full moon, with the meadows and shining granite behind him, he spoke with depth and passion about the origin of the names Yosemite, Ahwahnee, many of the peaks and lakes in the area and how they came to be so. Yosemite means 'they who kill/burn' referring to the savage tribe that lived in the valley and was feared by all. A lot of the men in power around the time Yosemite was being explored gave their surnames to a lot of geographical features, while their daughters' and wives' first names also came onto the map - emblematic of the gender power equations of the time. I was moved by the story of Tenaya lake - Tenaya was a legendary chief, he'd resettled the Yosemite valley with his tribe, having grown up on stories of a happy gone-by time when acorns filled the valley and there was enough food for all. As they fought the American forces by the shore of what's known as Tenaya lake today, Tenaya lost his son before their army surrendered. The generals of the army proceeded to name the lake in honor of the fallen chief which completely baffled Tenaya - the lake already had a name! It was named in the native Pywiack language as 'glistening rocks' - after the water that trickled down the surrounding granite and make it glisten in moonlight, especially in spring. The tribe knew how to listen to the land and name features after what they heard from them, in contrast to the conquerors who sought to impose their unchecked will upon their surroundings. Oh, I could have cried!

So you think you know all there is to a hiking pole ?

Artem and I started early (730 am, fml) the next day for Cloud's Rest - a majestic mountain top 7 miles away offerring commanding views of the entire valley. After our first couple days of squibbling on the trip, Artem and I had settled into a good easy rhythm. I particularly enjoyed his company that day, some in conversation and some in silence as we walked in step. Relieved of our packs, we made short work of those miles in 2.5 hours, only to be humbled later by trail runners who actually ran the trail! I was overcome by summit emotions at the top - best described as a complex mixture of happiness, awe and soaking in the momentary and rare grandeur of the moment. Just like Half Dome a month earlier, a loud group of Indians who seemed only interested in ugly posing kept irking me. I used the phone signal at the top to send my family and Adi's some "don't worry" texts - the latter proved laughably much harder! Assuaging some one else's family is not easy, particularly when you have first-hand experience of a worrying mom who knows as much as you about your trips after independent research.

Main Yosemite valley from Cloud's Rest. That's Half Dome on the left

More yosemite from the top

New partner-in-crime and yours truly. In the background, Tenaya Lake and gorge

We ran back in similar spirit, stopping at Sunrise Lake to enjoy a swim. Adi showed off his skills at cold water swimming, demonstrating what years of swimming in the Pacific had taught him while Artem and I made plans of enjoying a Russian sauna in the fantastic Minnesotan winters. Post a leisurely lunch at our camp, we packed up, said goodbyes to the folks at the kitchen and hiked the couple of hours to Cathedral Lake. While the lake was beautiful, Artem wasn't excited about spending a night camping by the lakeside. He'd managed to sleep his best the previous night, arguably after my assuring him that he could cuddle me if necessary!! Anyhow, it was quite a sight to have the full moon shining on the lake. I cursed my photography skills since the best I could do at night photography was pretty bad and was already starting to have nightmares about forever shooting in Auto mode :(

Cathedral Peak

Cathedral Lake from Cathedral Pass

Early morning bliss @ Cathedral

I woke up early the next morning as the sun had barely started to kiss the top of the surrounding ridgeline of the small valley bowl we were in. Camera in hand, I made a slow circumambulation of Cathedral Lake. The wind was low early in the morning, so none of the soothing lake waves hitting the rock sounds were audible. I was reminded of the walk I made once around Chandratal, the majestic lake near Manali. For the umpteenth time, I realized how much I missed the snow cap surroundings of the high Himalayas; and of how rock really wasn't my thing - even the grandeur of tall granite had worn off in a day as I had cursed my surroundings on the hot walk to Sunrise! This internal rock whining was almost hilarious. Not to take away from the beauty of the present, I snuck off after breakfast to meditate quietly on the lakeshore and Artem having understood my mood, extended me the friendly courtesy of wordlessly packing up.

Lower Cathedral Lake - the valley had yet more to offer :)

We took a short detour to the other Cathedral Lake before making a hot sprint to the trailhead at Tuolumne. Enough meadows had been seen and the cute Lembert Dome would remain unclimbed. We whiled away the hours until our evening shuttle at the Tuolumne grill, downing California beer and burgers. We bought souvenirs - keychains, magnets and patches with Yosemite on them. On being asked about showers, the ranger at the Tuolumne Visitor Center told us a fantastical story about a hot spring hidden in the desert south of Mammoth behind green churches, cow fences and what not. Starry eyed gullible boys we were to have bought the story. After the beautiful ride back to Mammoth over Tioga Pass and seeing Mono Lake, June Lake and yet more, we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere at 9 PM night searching for the mythical hot tub! We floundered for a while up a small hill in our flip flops before miraculously discovering the entrance, boardwalk and secret trail to the hot tub. Happy travelers and Mammoth localites reveled in the tiny hot tub under the still full-ish moon. Artem and I joked on how desperate we'd been for a shower after a week on the trail to have risked being part of a murder mystery!

June Lake

The rest of the night was just a long struggle to make it to SF Airport for our 8AM flights. As we made our way back to our homes, Artem and I remarked on how long and fulfilling the week had been. He felt like it had been 2 months since he'd last done the commute to work. I guess I felt lucky to have stolen some time from a stressful life and can only hope that our fantasies of long skiing trips come to fruition in the winters.