A Humbling Hiking Tour of the High Sierra

The plan for the 2020 Sierra Nevada backpacking trip was to connect 4 lakes with potential for large goldens by hiking 32 miles over 7 days, mostly cross country and above treeline. Two of the lakes would be revisits, while the other two carried the excitement of the great unknown.

One benefit of having my parents living in Mammoth Lakes during the summers now is being able to execute a car shuttle. We’re able to cover more ground on a one-way hike and – most importantly – spend more time fishing. As usual, my dad and brother came along, and my friend Jeffrey also decided to join. I was honored they wanted to stumble around the wilderness for 7 days with me.

A few days before the trip I organized my gear and took one of those influencer gear pics. (Felt cute, might delete later.)

All in, my pack weighed 34 lbs for a 7 day trip including fishing gear, camera and food. Not bad.

Day 1 – July 11, 2020

We dropped a car off at the finishing trailhead and looped around to our starting point. It was 8AM and already quite warm despite the elevation – a common theme for our entire trip. We chugged up the trail for a few miles until we reached the first lake and got a view of the pass. This is the first point where it truly felt like the high Sierra. We sat on the shore drinking water and watching small brook trout sip chironomids off the surface.

At the upper end of the lake there was an incredible stand of Lupine. They were so thick and tall it reminded me of the some of the fields in the PNW or Iceland.

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It took about 3 hours to summit the pass, which is fairly fast for most east side entrances. We threw down packs and ate some Uncrustables (GOAT hiking snack, don’t @ me) and trail mix for lunch.

After filling our stomachs, we hiked another mile up to a lake just on the other side and set up camp near the outlet. The intent for the afternoon was to climb higher up under the divide and fish a glacially fed lake.

I wasn’t expecting it, but there was a small use trail that headed up a grassy chute towards the upper lakes, which told me that they’re actually visited pretty often. It makes sense, they are “close” to a trailhead and also have decent fish.

We walked around the lower lake and headed directly for the large upper one. The terrain quickly turned from alpine tundra to bathtub sized boulders. It made getting around the upper lake a pain, but despite this we still walked a good chunk of the shoreline looking for cruisers. We did see quite a few, but unfortunately they weren’t interested in our flies. It was frustrating stripping leeches and lures past fish with zero reaction.

By the end of the afternoon, Tyler and Jeffrey both managed to catch 12-13″ fish and I landed one 8″ fish but didn’t take a picture. I will definitely be back on future trips, because I could see the potential, it just didn’t produce this time. More time might have yielded more fish.

The couple of fish we caught looked to be very pure strain of golden though – they were completely spotless other than their tail and dorsal fin. Jeffrey’s fish was the typical fire red of a post spawn golden too. It was probably the best fish of the entire trip.

The shadows started getting longer, which meant we had to head back to our campsite for dinner. I snapped a few pictures of this talus bowl on the way out. I thought it was pretty unique how the valley perfectly framed the dominant, nearly 14,000 ft peak.

After eating dinner, I roamed around snapping a few pictures during golden hour. The golden glow off the peaks late in the evening seems to be the mountains’ last hoorah before the cold night sets in.

Day 2 – July 12, 2020

The next morning, we packed up and hiked 4 miles cross country in the basin pictured above above. It was pretty easy hiking on the alpine tundra as we made our way up towards our first of three cross country passes on this trip. This was the hottest day of the year and we were sweating, despite walking in the morning at 11,000 ft.

We came across another huge stand of Lupine, but these were noticeably shorter because of the elevation. That didn’t make them any less spectacular though.

The whole basin is filled with glimmering lakes just like the one below.

After climbing a 350 foot tall ridge and walking briefly across a flat grassy meadow, we reached the top of the pass we had been aiming for the whole morning. It’s a weird one because one side is so flat, but the other is so steep. We would be going down the steep side which made it just a little tougher.

I had done this pass before, so I knew the best route down, but this was Jeffrey’s first cross country pass and it opened his eyes to a whole new side of hiking the Sierra (it’s hard).

We took packs off for 20 minutes to appreciate the view and mentally prepare for the following 20 minutes descending through the steep boulder field below.

We made it down the steep section and reached our campsite for the day in about 30 minutes. I had fished the lake we were staying at in 2013 and 2014, but only managed to land 1 fish each year. It’s definitely an all or nothing type of lake that has the potential to produce some big fish.

We fished for 5 hours that afternoon and covered half of the shoreline, but didn’t even see a fish, let alone get a strike. There were swarms of adult chironomids along the shore that made an almost mechanical humming noise, but the fish were clearly not interested.

Tyler and I tried everything from a chironomids under an indicator to sinking line with a leech. Jeffrey tossed lures on a spinning rod. But they refused all our offerings.

Somewhat defeated after two lousy days of fishing, we rehydrated some dinner and I took some more pictures in the golden light. As I wandered about trying to compose some decent images, I wondered if the fishing at the next two lakes we were going to visit would equally as poor? Were we already hitting the midsummer golden trout slump?

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The bench we were camped on dropped steeply down into another basin, which made for some dramatic sunset shots.

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Day 3 – July 13, 2020

The next day, I woke up slightly more optimistic that I would catch a fish after having only caught one fish over the first two days. This was also our shortest hiking day; we dropped down to the basin below, crossed it and headed up into a higher elevation basin with a string of lakes.

At this point, my Dad who had been tagging along for the first two days, decided to end his trip early and head to the car we had parked at the finishing trailhead. He wasn’t confident he could handle the demanding cross country hiking we had planned for the next 4 days. It was tough to say goodbye, but in hindsight was probably the right call.

Tyler, Jeffrey and I continued on our hike, and as we climbed up higher, the view across the valley was spectacular. We could see where we camped the night before and the divide in the distance.

Navigating through the basin was easy class 1 walking with one 100 yard section of boulder hopping along the shore of the 4th lake. We walked about halfway around and found a nice sandy flat area for our campsite – beach front property, so to speak.

We spent the entire afternoon fishing the upper two lakes in the basin and sadly, exactly like the two days prior, got completely skunked. There were a few cruisers, but it was so hot and cloudless that most fish were no where near casting range. We met a couple guys camping at the upper lake and they were having similar luck (which was none).

When I visited this lake in 2013, we didn’t make it up to the upper lake and I had initially thought it was fishless, however this year we did walk up there and saw one sizable cruising fish. This was new information to me, so I made a mental note for future trips.

Around 4pm, I decided I was done fishing for the afternoon and would hit the water again when the lake was shaded. Maybe the fish would be more active later in the evening? If I didn’t have eyelids, I would avoid the sun too.

At 6pm, I tried fishing again for about an hour to no avail. I had been in the backcountry 3 days and fished 3 different lakes that had some decent sized fish and I had only caught one 8″ fish.

Tyler and Jeffrey had exactly the same experience except for their 12″ fish from the first day, which were now starting to look like trophies.

Day 4 – July 14, 2020

We woke up to a calm lake and the first day of the trip with any potential for reflection pictures. It looked like a change in the weather pattern and I got a message from Alyssa on my inReach that said there was a chance of afternoon thunderstorms for the next three days.

Day 4 was also going to be the hardest hike. We were going to go over two cross country passes and hike in an area I had never been. I was excited to see it but anxious if we would be able to navigate to our target lake without any issues.

First up, was a steep up and over pass that would put us in a very seldom visited basin. As we climbed up, the views back towards the lakes we had fished the day previous were stunning and are definitely some of the best of the near 14er in the distance.

After negotiating a maze of boulders, the terrain turned into a steep sand hill. It was one step up, half step back unless you managed to step in someone else’s footprint. We played follow the leader up. I established the foot prints for the first half and Tyler took over for the second half.

The slope increased in angle the higher up we climbed. It was probably a 30-35 degree slope near the top. Our goal was to climb through the rock outcroppings you can see at the top of the image below. There were actually two ways through, one to the left and one in the dead center. Both would have worked but we chose the one front and center.

We managed to avoid putting ourselves in any precarious situations and crested the pass. The view on the other side was worth the climb.

The only other living thing at the top were some patches of Sky Pilot, my favorite alpine flower. They only grow in the highest elevation areas above 12,000 feet, so this saddle was prime habitat for them.

We took our packs off and appreciated what we had accomplished for a little while. I wondered, how many people sit on this rock every year? 10, maybe 20?

The backside of the pass was just as steep and sandy, but going down was 1000 times easier. It was kind of like skiing – we would plant a foot in the sand but it was slide down a couple of feet before sticking, then repeat with the other foot. The sand would take all of your body weight instead of your legs, which was amazing.

At the bottom of the valley we picked up a small use trail and followed it down past the first two lakes.

We stopped to fish these lakes to minimize the stench of our skunk, but Tyler was the only one who managed to catch anything (2 small goldens). By the point, my ego was already severely bruised. I somehow couldn’t even catch a 6 incher?

After an hour, we stowed the fishing gear and finished the rest of the hike to our target lake. We made one navigational error on our way to the top of the next cross country pass, but overcame it with some quick route finding through some cliffs.

The last cross country pass of the trip is pretty unique; a lake sits right at the top of it. As we traversed around it, there was an interesting view point where the lake and surrounding hills framed the most impressive peak of the basin.

From the top of the pass, we were able to see our target lake for the day, but the short distance belied the difficulty of what we were about to hike. It was about 12:30pm, and for the next hour and a half we would tediously make our way down a steep class 2 pass in the afternoon heat.

This pass pushed all three of our comfort levels as we continuously scouted for the easiest way forward. There were multiple times where we traversed along a steep granite rock in order to avoid willow bushes or a cliff. One slip would have been dangerous. The intense sun and heat didn’t make it any easier.

Looking back, day 4 of this trip made me a far better hiker, and I’m definitely more confident in my ability to tackle difficult terrain in the Sierra. Isn’t there some quote about nothing grows in the comfort zone?

We were dead tired when we got to the outlet of the lake. It was hot and we were dehydrated and hungry, so instead of fishing we took care of ourselves. I sat in my Helinox chair for an hour, sipping water, and eating a Pack-It-Gourmet All-American Burger wrap while staring up at the pass we just came down. It sucked, but maybe the fishing would be worth it? Maybe, finally?

Alas, the fishing still sucked. Tyler and I tried our best, but were skunked after 3 hours of fishing. But Jeffrey managed to catch a nice 12″ fish.

I’ve noticed after after looking at Jeffrey’s fish photo above, and other pictures of fish from this lake, that they tend to be heavily spotted along their back. This population may not be quite as pure as others, but they’re still mostly golden in my book.

I once again thought the intense sun and heat might be the reason why the fish were no where to be found, so I fished from 7pm until it was so dark I couldn’t see, but still no fish. In a last ditch effort, I went down to the smaller lower lake and caught two small goldens in the pitch black. The pictures of the fish were so dark they couldn’t be saved.

Day 5 – July 15, 2020

This was supposed to be a layover day, but the three of us decided to fish in morning until about 10am, and if the fishing was still poor we would start the trek back to the car in an attempt to get out a day early.

The fishing stayed the same. The only thing that changed was the soreness creeping into my right arm from casting so many times over the past four days. By the time we left that morning, I had fished for nearly 20 hours at 4 different trophy golden trout lakes with only one 8″ fish to show for it. Tyler had one and Jeffrey two 12″ fish. Damn.

In 10 years of fishing the backcountry of the Sierra, this trip was possibly the worst fishing I’ve ever experienced. So, at 10am we packed up and started the walk back to the car, tail between our legs. The goal for the day was to get back on the other side of the crest and camp between 6-8 miles from the car, pending afternoon storm development, which would setup an easy exit the next morning.

The good news was the route was mostly on trail which was nice after our previous day of grueling day of off trail travel. It took us about two and a half hours to summit the pass. The picture below is the view of the west side back to the the basin we had walked through the day before.

We stopped to fish the largest lake on the east side of the pass for about 30 minutes before the clouds started to look threatening. Once again, I got skunked before we hurried down the trail to tree cover as the afternoon storms built.

We arrived at the lake we planned to camp at just as the thunder started crackling to the east. We quickly propped up our tents, just in case it started to rain, but as is often the case the clouds didn’t drift far enough to the east.

We fished the tree bound lake that evening as the skies cleared and I tripled my fish count for the trip with 6″ brook and rainbow trout attacking an elk-hair caddis.

Day 6 – July 16, 2020

We packed up a quickly the next morning in an attempt to beat the heat. Knowing there was going to be real food and a shower at the other end of the hike, helped a little too. We flew down the hill: the 6 mile hike took about two hours. My dad was there waiting with a cooler full of ice cold water and White Claws. Nice.

I thought a lot about the trip on the hike out and the words that kept coming to mind were “Humble Pie”, because that’s what the mountains served us for 6 days. The fishing was the worst I’ve ever experienced in 10 years of backpacking the Sierra and I suppose after a string of great trips in the past 5 years, I was due for a dud. The thing I will remember the most from the 2020 adventure, is the cross country hiking and terrain we covered. It humbled me too but also helped me grow and expand my comfort zone.

So remember, kids, you never know when the mountains will serve a healthy slice of humble pie. And when it does, don’t be afraid to take a bite to grow a little.