2025 Pine Creek/Italy Pass
Prologue
After being home for about a week, the longest I’d been home the entire summer, I felt like I was on more solid ground and ready to make another trip into the Eastern Sierra. My family had been planning a birthday party in Reno for everyone with July birthdays. When they originally scheduled the party, I was supposed to be deep in the Sierra, but with my change of plans, I decided to make the gathering the kickoff to my trip.
Being with family was just what I needed. As I got closer to my 57th birthday, and continued to experience the loss of loved ones, I was finding that taking advantage of any opportunity to be with family had become a much higher priority. The birthday dinner at Mandy and Bert’s house was wonderful. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing family and meeting a few new people as well.
Starting my drive in Reno, rather than Sacramento, meant just about an hour less driving to the trailhead. I woke up, grabbed a coffee at a local shop and hit the road, knowing I had a little over a three-hour drive and about an eight-mile, mostly on-trail, hike to my first camp spot.
Being with family was just what I needed. As I got closer to my 57th birthday, and continued to experience the loss of loved ones, I was finding that taking advantage of any opportunity to be with family had become a much higher priority. The birthday dinner at Mandy and Bert’s house was wonderful. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing family and meeting a few new people as well.
Starting my drive in Reno, rather than Sacramento, meant just about an hour less driving to the trailhead. I woke up, grabbed a coffee at a local shop and hit the road, knowing I had a little over a three-hour drive and about an eight-mile, mostly on-trail, hike to my first camp spot.
Day 1 Miles- 8.72
Total Miles- 8.72
Elevation Gained- 3818ft
Elevation Lost- 357ft
The hike out of the trailhead was well taken care of by the Pine Creek Pack Station employees. I found trailheads in the Eastern Sierra with Pack Stations often had the best trails, as it was in their business' best interest to keep the trail out of their station free of downed trees and rockfall so their horses and mules could move freely.
The trail rose higher and higher, passing the old Pine Creek Tungsten Mine and following the rushing waters of Pine Creek. I’d never hiked out of this trailhead and was excited to see new things. The mine looked like a lot of work had been done to it, but I’d heard somewhere it had closed years ago. Once home, I did a bit of research and learned that in 1936, US Vanadium (later Union Carbide) purchased the site and built a 2.5-mile-long wooden tramway to move ore from Mt. Tom at 12,000 feet down to the mill at 7,400 feet, along with power and water lines and onsite mining facilities. Then, from 1942 onward, Pine Creek produced more tungsten than any U.S. mine, up to 90% of national output, including during WWII, producing millions of tons of ore through to the 1990s. The miners basically entered tunnels at about 8,000 feet and worked upward into the mountain, all the way to 12,000 feet. The site was mothballed in 2001 due to low tungsten prices and environmental and cleanup costs (duh). Crazy history.
Pine Creek Tungsten Mine
The trail continued first through aspen and then up switchbacks for almost three miles following the rushing waters of Pine Creek before reaching Pine Lake, then a mile later, Upper Pine Lake.
Honeymoon Lake, another mile up the trail, was where I started looking for a good place to leave the trail and head northwest. I stayed on the Italy Pass Trail for just a bit longer and then left it for off-trail travel up through each of the Chalfant Lakes.
Chalfant Lakes Basin
I got to Upper Chalfant Lake around 3 p.m. after making my way up the Chalfant Lakes basin. I’d arrived early enough to really take advantage of some good relaxation time. I hadn’t seen another person since I left the trail and there was no one else in the Chalfant Lakes valley. I found a great place to set up camp, which included a solid wind block. The wind was starting to pick up quite a bit.
Then I set up my chair. Yes, I brought my ultimate luxury piece and set it up right next to the lake where I did absolutely nothing for the next two hours.
Then I set up my chair. Yes, I brought my ultimate luxury piece and set it up right next to the lake where I did absolutely nothing for the next two hours.
Kickin' it
I guess I did shift position a few times. When that was over, I got up and moved to the backside of the hill behind where I’d camped. I was now sitting with a view east to all the other lakes in the valley.
View looking east
I had almost no appetite, so I decided to skip dinner entirely. Instead, I just watched the colors of the sky change and settled into my quilt and bivy, hoping I’d get a lot of rest. I was really looking forward to the next day, when I’d be climbing a small pass to leave this valley and then heading toward Granite Pass at over 12,000 feet before dropping down into Bear Lakes.
Night #1 Camp
Day 2 Miles- 5.84 + 3.64
Total Miles- 18.20
Elevation Gained- 1814ft + 872ft
Elevation Lost- 2089ft + 679ft
Got the good night’s sleep I’d hoped for last night. The hour before I got up was a little chilly, but nothing the fetal position couldn’t fix. I was out of camp by 7:45 and headed up the small unnamed pass behind camp. Once I hit the top and got a look at Granite Bear Pass, it was pretty obvious I should choose an alternative. It had a snowfield from one end to the other. Once again, I was 90 percent sure I could have made it across, but I just didn’t have the motivation or confidence at that moment.
I dropped down off the pass into a place I’d never been but had always had on the list. Granite Park was stunning with open granite slopes, alpine lakes, and meadows framed by Mt. Tom, Mt. Humphreys, and Bear Creek Spire.
I dropped down off the pass into a place I’d never been but had always had on the list. Granite Park was stunning with open granite slopes, alpine lakes, and meadows framed by Mt. Tom, Mt. Humphreys, and Bear Creek Spire.
As my eyes took in Granite Park, I knew right away I’d need to go with my backup plan, which was climbing the old use trail up Italy Pass and then making my way over to Dancing Bear Pass from there. That would allow me to drop into the Bear Lakes. As I got started, I saw one of many "Sierra Chickens" of the trip. The name lighthearted nickname some hikers use to refer to the Sooty Grouse (or Dusky Grouse) — a plump, ground-dwelling bird commonly found in the Sierra Nevada. It's about the size of a small chicken usually mottled gray or brown, blending into rocks and brush.
Sierra Chicken
I climbed almost one thousand feet to the top of Italy Pass, and from there stayed high on a diagonal, off-trail route through refrigerator-sized talus to reach Dancing Bear Pass.
The handful of snowfields and endless talus made this one-mile section slow and arduous. Looking down from Dancing Bear Pass, I could see White Bear Lake and Black Bear Lake sitting quietly below me.
From the top of Dancing Bear Pass, the view was exactly what I’d hoped for. White Bear Lake came into sight first, still and tucked into its granite bowl like a secret I wasn’t supposed to know about. Just beyond it, Black Bear Lake stretched out a little wider, catching more light and shadow in the late afternoon sun. The climb up had been steep and slow, but standing up there, catching my breath and taking it all in, it was clear it had been worth every step. There wasn’t a sound, just wind and wide-open silence. It felt like I had the whole basin to myself.
From the top of Dancing Bear Pass, the view was exactly what I’d hoped for. White Bear Lake came into sight first, still and tucked into its granite bowl like a secret I wasn’t supposed to know about. Just beyond it, Black Bear Lake stretched out a little wider, catching more light and shadow in the late afternoon sun. The climb up had been steep and slow, but standing up there, catching my breath and taking it all in, it was clear it had been worth every step. There wasn’t a sound, just wind and wide-open silence. It felt like I had the whole basin to myself.
I chose a line to Black Bear Lake and from there dropped into Black Bear Valley, crossing between the outlet of Ursula Lake and Big Bear Lake, then headed up another steep ridge. At the top, I had a beautiful view of Vee Lake, Claw Lake, Tooth Lake, and Gruf Lake. I headed down to Vee Lake and made last night’s potato dinner, trying to decide on my next move.
Just above where I had lunch, I found a place in the northwest corner of Vee Lake to set up camp. I then repacked my pack with everything except my sleep setup and Ursack (my bear-resistant food storage bag made from Kevlar fabric, designed to protect food from bears and other critters when backpacking in places where bear canisters are not required), and set off with a much lighter backpack on a walk to circle the entire basin and take in all the sights.
Night #2 Camp
In addition to the four main lakes in this basin, there are numerous small unnamed tarns, as well as a fifth lake up high in a draw called Den Lake. I’d planned to visit them all, and in a relaxed four-mile saunter, visit them I did. I stopped a few times to set up my chair and just enjoy. One of those times I treated myself to a snack I brought back from Canada. Cheezies! A few weeks back we'd sent my daughter a pack of these and Leah, a friend of hers, stated, "Cheetos needs to take notes." Later, on the way back toward camp, I climbed the 400-foot draw up to Den Lake, which was as spectacular as I’d expected.
On the way back to camp, I used my inReach (a satellite handheld device that lets me send messages, share my location, and call for help anywhere in the world using satellites, even without cell service) to ask Paula for a weather report. We have a little code I put together where I ask her for a report, and she uses my GPS coordinates and an amazing weather site called MeteoBlue to give me a three-day outlook. Here’s the format of what she sends me:
Here’s what she sent back:
TU 55/37, W 55/37, TH 53/37
25%, 31%, 32%
17, 14, 15
Wind/rain all between 3–9 PM
I also had my Garmin Tempe (a tiny sensor that clips onto my pack and transmits ambient temperature data wirelessly to my Garmin watch), and I knew it had dropped to 32 degrees where I camped the night before. It would likely be that cold or colder again. That meant possible snow, since it can easily snow twelve months out of the year this high in the Sierras.
Although I’d been feeling much better than on the last trip I’d cut short, I still wasn’t myself. That morning, I’d gotten a peek at the next Class 2 pass I’d planned to cross, Seven Gables Pass, and it too was filled with snow. It was one of those situations where I knew I could probably cross successfully, but I just didn’t have the drive to do it, especially with the new weather report. Crossing Seven Gables would mean committing to being much farther from the trailhead if I needed to bail.
I’d sleep on it and make a final decision in the morning.
- High and low temperature for each of the three days
- Percentage chance of precipitation each of the three days
- High wind speed each of the three days
- Any other information that might be applicable (like if winds over 25 mph are expected, the hours they will blow)
Here’s what she sent back:
TU 55/37, W 55/37, TH 53/37
25%, 31%, 32%
17, 14, 15
Wind/rain all between 3–9 PM
I also had my Garmin Tempe (a tiny sensor that clips onto my pack and transmits ambient temperature data wirelessly to my Garmin watch), and I knew it had dropped to 32 degrees where I camped the night before. It would likely be that cold or colder again. That meant possible snow, since it can easily snow twelve months out of the year this high in the Sierras.
Although I’d been feeling much better than on the last trip I’d cut short, I still wasn’t myself. That morning, I’d gotten a peek at the next Class 2 pass I’d planned to cross, Seven Gables Pass, and it too was filled with snow. It was one of those situations where I knew I could probably cross successfully, but I just didn’t have the drive to do it, especially with the new weather report. Crossing Seven Gables would mean committing to being much farther from the trailhead if I needed to bail.
I’d sleep on it and make a final decision in the morning.
Day 3 Miles- 12.25
Total Miles- 30.45
Elevation Gained- 3221ft
Elevation Lost- 3047ft
Another good night of sleep. Because I had camped only about 25 feet above lake level, I was hit with a katabatic airflow during the night. A katabatic airflow is a cold, heavy wind that flows downhill from mountains or high areas into valleys, usually at night. It’s true, I should’ve known better, but there weren’t many spots to choose from in the area where I camped. The temperature dropped to 29 degrees, and I woke up to find I was covered in ice. It took about an hour to dry everything out before I hit the trail.
Within about 30 minutes, it was clear that my next goal, Seven Gables Pass, was not going to happen. Not only was there a mammoth approach to the actual pass, but the pass itself, once again, was filled with snow from end to end. And once again, I felt like making it over the pass was completely possible, but there were other things to take into consideration. The weather forecast had changed quite a bit since I left home, and the chance of precipitation at the elevations I was moving through could also mean possible snow. Climbing over Seven Gables Pass and into two new lake basins would put me much farther away from the trailhead if things went south. I decided to cut that section of my loop out of the trip and instead head up the basin I had planned for the next day toward Ruskie Pass. That would drop me into the Merriam Lakes area and give me lots of choices based on how I felt and what the weather did.
The hike up through the Seven Gables Lakes Basin was a mildly strenuous, scenic climb through alpine forest and granite terrain, passing nine lakes of various sizes and shapes, with a few steep switchbacks and snowfields on the way to the Ruskie Pass approach at the very back of the basin.
Within about 30 minutes, it was clear that my next goal, Seven Gables Pass, was not going to happen. Not only was there a mammoth approach to the actual pass, but the pass itself, once again, was filled with snow from end to end. And once again, I felt like making it over the pass was completely possible, but there were other things to take into consideration. The weather forecast had changed quite a bit since I left home, and the chance of precipitation at the elevations I was moving through could also mean possible snow. Climbing over Seven Gables Pass and into two new lake basins would put me much farther away from the trailhead if things went south. I decided to cut that section of my loop out of the trip and instead head up the basin I had planned for the next day toward Ruskie Pass. That would drop me into the Merriam Lakes area and give me lots of choices based on how I felt and what the weather did.
The hike up through the Seven Gables Lakes Basin was a mildly strenuous, scenic climb through alpine forest and granite terrain, passing nine lakes of various sizes and shapes, with a few steep switchbacks and snowfields on the way to the Ruskie Pass approach at the very back of the basin.
Ruskie Pass was classified correctly as Class Two. The southwestern side was made up of long, steep talus, separated now and then by grassy ledges. Looking down onto the northeastern side from the top, it appeared that when free of snow there were two possible routes, but with the entire chute filled with snow, only one of those was an option. I stowed my hiking poles in my pack, put on my heavy bouldering gloves, and made the first move down into the chute.
The first 50 feet or so was a jumble of talus and slick rock. I was very careful to always keep three points of contact. Next came a 40-foot snowfield. Testing the snow, it felt soft, but not so soft I would sink. I decided to butt slide from one big sun cup to another. Once out of the snow, I was back on rock for another 50 feet or so before dropping into more snow. I did this two or three times until there was nowhere else to go except out onto a gently sloping snowfield. Once again, I tested the snow and once again, it was the perfect consistency to walk across with poles extended, but without needing spikes.
The first 50 feet or so was a jumble of talus and slick rock. I was very careful to always keep three points of contact. Next came a 40-foot snowfield. Testing the snow, it felt soft, but not so soft I would sink. I decided to butt slide from one big sun cup to another. Once out of the snow, I was back on rock for another 50 feet or so before dropping into more snow. I did this two or three times until there was nowhere else to go except out onto a gently sloping snowfield. Once again, I tested the snow and once again, it was the perfect consistency to walk across with poles extended, but without needing spikes.
Preparing for the fist steps down
Past the snowfield, there were two more steep drop-offs that I carefully made my way down before reaching the La Salle Lakes Valley, which would eventually lead to Merriam Lake. I made my way through this beautiful landscape and then found the safest route down to the lake. It was time for a break. I got out my chair and set it up. Next, I stripped down and went for a refreshing and much-needed short swim. Once out, I worked on purifying water and feeding myself. I stayed for about an hour and left just as the only other people I’d seen on this trip arrived and parked themselves about 50 feet away on the shore. After giving them a wave, I was up and off again.
It was a long 1,000-foot drop on an old, very unmaintained trail into the canyon where I joined the well-used French Canyon Trail and headed east, with a goal of finding a specific turnoff to the north along a creek I’d spotted on my map while resting at Merriam Lake. That turnoff would allow me access to Royce Lakes, another place that had been on my list for years.
The French Canyon Trail, climbing up to Pine Creek Pass, was well graded and well taken care of. I made better time than I had in the last 36 hours. The wildflowers along this section were just beautiful. The hike was so enjoyable that I decided, instead of cutting off at the point I’d originally planned, to hike all the way to the top of the pass and cut off from there.
The French Canyon Trail, climbing up to Pine Creek Pass, was well graded and well taken care of. I made better time than I had in the last 36 hours. The wildflowers along this section were just beautiful. The hike was so enjoyable that I decided, instead of cutting off at the point I’d originally planned, to hike all the way to the top of the pass and cut off from there.
Once at the pass, I had an expansive view of Humphreys Peak and Glacier Divide, an 8-mile ridgeline separating the Humphreys Basin to the north from Evolution Basin and the PCT and JMT to the south, and then up toward the spires that border the Royce Lakes, where I was headed.
Humphreys Peak and Glacier Divide
After my customary video at the pass, I started up my off-trail line toward Royce Lakes. The climb was so gradual and open I could almost take a straight path. I passed a small unnamed lake just before the last rise. Once at the top of the lip, I could see down into the Royce Lakes Basin.
Unnamed Tarn
The lake furthest south, the one I had planned to skip, seemed to be calling my name. I made my way down to the water’s edge, set up my chair, got out my cook set, and started boiling water. While the water was heating, I pulled out all the fixings to make burritos. By that point, the water was at a full boil. I poured the steamy water into my quart-sized Ziploc bag, just above the contents, shook it, let out the air, and placed it into my pot cozy to keep warm and “cook”.
Southern of the Royce Lakes - Dinner Time!
While my dinner was cooking, I scooped up 2 liters of lake water and filtered it into my empty bottles.
In the 10 minutes it took to purify water, my dinner was ready. I pulled out a tortilla and spooned half the delicious, homemade burrito bowl mix onto it. This mix is my favorite dinner and I could easily eat it nightly. The base is freeze-dried refried beans and minute rice, with a bit of taco seasoning, freeze-dried onion, freeze-dried corn and a whole lot of freeze-dried cheddar cheese.
Lastly, I opened the snack-sized Ziploc bag, which earlier I had mixed with water to rehydrate the freeze-dried guacamole, and spooned out half of it to top the burrito. Probably no explanation is needed here as I’ll assume my readers know how to fold and devour a burrito.
It was getting windy, and the clouds were starting to really billow. As I finished making the second burrito, a cloud stole my sun and warmth. The wind, which hadn’t felt quite so cold before, now felt icy. I didn’t want to take the time to put on another layer, since I wasn’t camping right next to the water, so my second burrito went down even faster than the first. While eating, I started to study my map. I had lots of options and still wasn’t sure how many more nights I would stay. I considered how far I wanted to go, whether I might stay more than just this last night, making sure I camped far enough from the water to avoid another icy morning, and I also used the sun overlay on my CalTopo map to help me figure out how to maximize afternoon sun as well as catch the morning rays as early as possible.
With dinner done, I packed up quickly and began walking north through the Royce Lakes Valley. There were two places that looked promising for camping. One was only about an eighth of a mile up the hill from where I started. The other was atop Royce Pass, leading from the Royce Lakes Basin back into the edge of Granite Park and eventually to the trailhead.
In the 10 minutes it took to purify water, my dinner was ready. I pulled out a tortilla and spooned half the delicious, homemade burrito bowl mix onto it. This mix is my favorite dinner and I could easily eat it nightly. The base is freeze-dried refried beans and minute rice, with a bit of taco seasoning, freeze-dried onion, freeze-dried corn and a whole lot of freeze-dried cheddar cheese.
Lastly, I opened the snack-sized Ziploc bag, which earlier I had mixed with water to rehydrate the freeze-dried guacamole, and spooned out half of it to top the burrito. Probably no explanation is needed here as I’ll assume my readers know how to fold and devour a burrito.
It was getting windy, and the clouds were starting to really billow. As I finished making the second burrito, a cloud stole my sun and warmth. The wind, which hadn’t felt quite so cold before, now felt icy. I didn’t want to take the time to put on another layer, since I wasn’t camping right next to the water, so my second burrito went down even faster than the first. While eating, I started to study my map. I had lots of options and still wasn’t sure how many more nights I would stay. I considered how far I wanted to go, whether I might stay more than just this last night, making sure I camped far enough from the water to avoid another icy morning, and I also used the sun overlay on my CalTopo map to help me figure out how to maximize afternoon sun as well as catch the morning rays as early as possible.
With dinner done, I packed up quickly and began walking north through the Royce Lakes Valley. There were two places that looked promising for camping. One was only about an eighth of a mile up the hill from where I started. The other was atop Royce Pass, leading from the Royce Lakes Basin back into the edge of Granite Park and eventually to the trailhead.
All the other passes I’d crossed on this trip had been Class Two, while Royce was Class One. (A Class One pass is a well-marked hiking trail with a clear path and minimal obstacles, while a Class Two pass involves off-trail travel, rough terrain, and the use of hands for balance, but not technical climbing as required with Class 3-5.)
I arrived at the first camping option in the blink of an eye. It was too close and I still had more walking in me. I continued past the two highest Royce Lakes. The going got tougher as I went. The last lake had a steep shore made up of car-sized talus and lingering snowfields. It took quite a while and quite a lot out of me. Once atop Royce Pass, I knew I’d made the right decision. It was an amazing setting — Upper Royce Lake to the south and the entire Owens River Valley almost 7,000 feet below to the east.
With black, billowing clouds above me, I didn’t waste any time setting up camp. This was the first night I set up my tarp as well. I figured I’d play it extra safe.
I arrived at the first camping option in the blink of an eye. It was too close and I still had more walking in me. I continued past the two highest Royce Lakes. The going got tougher as I went. The last lake had a steep shore made up of car-sized talus and lingering snowfields. It took quite a while and quite a lot out of me. Once atop Royce Pass, I knew I’d made the right decision. It was an amazing setting — Upper Royce Lake to the south and the entire Owens River Valley almost 7,000 feet below to the east.
With black, billowing clouds above me, I didn’t waste any time setting up camp. This was the first night I set up my tarp as well. I figured I’d play it extra safe.
Once I was all set up, the night felt warmer than the previous one. These are the kinds of nights I love — just wandering around camp as the light shifts and changes the look of everything every few minutes. It’s hard not to take a million pictures at times like that.
On another note, I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do the next day. I hadn’t looked at the map past Royce Pass, so I didn’t know whether I had options for another night now that I’d pushed this far. Staying another night at these lakes was possible, but the section between my dinner spot and my camp had the worst bugs of the trip so far. Either way, I’d be happy with this trip.
Day 4 Miles- 8.02
Total Miles- 38.47
Elevation Gained- 193ft
Elevation Lost- 4507ft
I slept much warmer last night. I was sure it was a combination of a warmer spot and the fact that I was using my tarp. I got up and took my time packing up and having coffee.
A bit after sunrise
Last night, after looking at the map, I determined that from where I had camped, there really wasn’t much more on my route to explore, and instead I would head back to the trailhead. The first three miles of the morning were spent off-trail, coming off Royce Pass, following snowmelt and later a pretty hefty stream. Just before Honeymoon Lake, I joined the Italy Pass Trail, which passed all three lakes I had hiked by four days ago on my way up and then followed Pine Creek and their falls all the way to the trailhead.
Pine Creek Falls
This was another very interesting trip. I could break my summer into two parts. Part one was before my mother passed away and included my amazing seven-day backpacking trip into the Wallace and Wrights Lake basins, followed by one of the best trips I had ever taken with Paula throughout Canada. Part two was after my mom passed away, which included my Big SEKI-ish trip (cut short), coming home and regrouping, and then heading back out for this trip, which was also supposed to be seven days, but ended up being four.
I had been trying to put into words the way I felt, which was difficult to do. It came down to a feeling of numbness and a lack of motivation. I wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but it felt like I was running on empty. I figured it would take some time — just being in it, showing up, and letting things settle — until I started to feel a little more like myself again.
I had been trying to put into words the way I felt, which was difficult to do. It came down to a feeling of numbness and a lack of motivation. I wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but it felt like I was running on empty. I figured it would take some time — just being in it, showing up, and letting things settle — until I started to feel a little more like myself again.