Prologue
Miter Basin is one of my favorite places. To be able to share it with someone who's never seen it is a gift. Trent and I headed to the trailhead on a Thursday night. We hit the trail with a plan full of options. We never thought we'd need to come up with even more options than discussed before the trip.
Day 1
Miles: 13.68
Total Miles: 13.68
Elevation Gained: 3,018ft
Elevation Lost: 1,781ft
We arrived at the trailhead very late and camped in one of the walk in sites. We'd brought car camping gear so as not to have to unpack our backpacks. We awoke early, and after shuffling some gear, making breakfast and coffee, we were on the Cottonwood Lakes trail by 7:30am.
We made our way from the 10,000ft trailhead up into dry forest. About 5 miles and 1200ft later, we arrived at Cottonwood Lake #1. It's a funny thing, the numbering of the lakes in this basin is actually inconsistent depending on the map source. Some maps even skip numbers or renumber the lakes differently. We stopped for a bit to admire our surroundings.
We made our way from the 10,000ft trailhead up into dry forest. About 5 miles and 1200ft later, we arrived at Cottonwood Lake #1. It's a funny thing, the numbering of the lakes in this basin is actually inconsistent depending on the map source. Some maps even skip numbers or renumber the lakes differently. We stopped for a bit to admire our surroundings.
Trent taking it all in.
As we passed the far end of Cottonwood Lake #1, we spied a lone backpacker camped at the northwest end of the lake. Other than that, we were the only two around. A few minutes later, reaching our first snowbanks, we walked by Cottonwood Lake #2 anticipating our first views of New Army Pass.
In the month prior to this trip, I'd been closely watching three things:
-Inyo County Road Closure/Openings
-Weather Reports
-Satellite Images of New Army Pass
Inyo County trailhead roads historically open (after snow removal and road repair) on Memorial Day.
The weather reports for a few weeks prior had shown temperatures into the teens with significant snowfall.
New Army Pass showed heavy snow but because satellite images are such low quality, I couldn't determine if it had started melting out.
Many obstacles stood in our way and the trip was up in the air until to about 5 days prior to departure.
Most Eastern Sierra trailhead roads had opened by the end of April. Horseshoe Meadow Road opened May 7th. First obstacle overcome.
-Inyo County Road Closure/Openings
-Weather Reports
-Satellite Images of New Army Pass
Inyo County trailhead roads historically open (after snow removal and road repair) on Memorial Day.
The weather reports for a few weeks prior had shown temperatures into the teens with significant snowfall.
New Army Pass showed heavy snow but because satellite images are such low quality, I couldn't determine if it had started melting out.
Many obstacles stood in our way and the trip was up in the air until to about 5 days prior to departure.
Most Eastern Sierra trailhead roads had opened by the end of April. Horseshoe Meadow Road opened May 7th. First obstacle overcome.
The extreme cold temperatures and heavy snow had disappeared and turned into higher winds with some afternoon rain possible. Doable.
Satellite images showed less and less snow covering the area we were headed and many lakes were even starting to thaw. New Army Pass looked about the same based on low imagery. Workable.
At the back of Cottonwood Lake #2, we ascended and rounded a corner to get a first look at New Army Pass. This pass was built in 1955, about 1/4 of a mile from Old Army Pass which was the original route and dates back to the late 1800s, when U.S. Army patrols and stock routes crossed the Sierra in that area. It was the original trail over the crest near Cottonwood Lakes and was in use long before the modern trail system. New Army Pass was built slightly south of the original pass on a sunnier aspect so it would melt out earlier and provide a safer stock route. While Old Army Pass sometimes holds dangerous snow year-round, New Army Pass generally melts out by late spring or early summer depending on winter snow levels.
In the distance, there were three backpackers approaching the last large snow field that chocked the last 50 feet to the ridge. From our vantage point, about 1/2 a mile away, it looked steep. Very steep. But distance plays tricks on the eye and we both thought it might look less steep from their vantage point. We sat on a rock and watched. First, one of the three went just left of the straight line to the actual pass. He wandered around for a bit before coming back to the group. Then, all three walked to the right and into a cluster of rocks and sat down. Our guess was that they were either getting set up with spikes and axes for the ascent or simply talking through their options. Five minutes passed. Ten. Then, just as suddenly, they got up and started walking. Walking down the trail. They had decided it either wasn't worth the risk, or wasn't possible.
It's always tough to assess a crux from someone else's view point. Sometimes it is better to not see, or ask, about an upcoming challenge (as we would face later in the trip again). There is just no way to assess a challenge based on someone else's experience. There are too many unknowns. In this case, some of those would be: What was their level of snow experience? Were all three in the group in agreement about their decision? Did they have proper gear to attempt the pass? So many factors. We could have waited the hour or so for them to get back to where we sat to ask many of those questions, but their answers would still be too subjective to give the information we needed to answer our question. Could WE do it?
Satellite images showed less and less snow covering the area we were headed and many lakes were even starting to thaw. New Army Pass looked about the same based on low imagery. Workable.
At the back of Cottonwood Lake #2, we ascended and rounded a corner to get a first look at New Army Pass. This pass was built in 1955, about 1/4 of a mile from Old Army Pass which was the original route and dates back to the late 1800s, when U.S. Army patrols and stock routes crossed the Sierra in that area. It was the original trail over the crest near Cottonwood Lakes and was in use long before the modern trail system. New Army Pass was built slightly south of the original pass on a sunnier aspect so it would melt out earlier and provide a safer stock route. While Old Army Pass sometimes holds dangerous snow year-round, New Army Pass generally melts out by late spring or early summer depending on winter snow levels.
In the distance, there were three backpackers approaching the last large snow field that chocked the last 50 feet to the ridge. From our vantage point, about 1/2 a mile away, it looked steep. Very steep. But distance plays tricks on the eye and we both thought it might look less steep from their vantage point. We sat on a rock and watched. First, one of the three went just left of the straight line to the actual pass. He wandered around for a bit before coming back to the group. Then, all three walked to the right and into a cluster of rocks and sat down. Our guess was that they were either getting set up with spikes and axes for the ascent or simply talking through their options. Five minutes passed. Ten. Then, just as suddenly, they got up and started walking. Walking down the trail. They had decided it either wasn't worth the risk, or wasn't possible.
It's always tough to assess a crux from someone else's view point. Sometimes it is better to not see, or ask, about an upcoming challenge (as we would face later in the trip again). There is just no way to assess a challenge based on someone else's experience. There are too many unknowns. In this case, some of those would be: What was their level of snow experience? Were all three in the group in agreement about their decision? Did they have proper gear to attempt the pass? So many factors. We could have waited the hour or so for them to get back to where we sat to ask many of those questions, but their answers would still be too subjective to give the information we needed to answer our question. Could WE do it?
I didn't take a picture from where we sat but instead, from further away. The arrow points to the point the "trail" would cross the ridge.
Our decision was made. We would use our back-up option. A cross country route past a lake I'd never seen that would, after much effort, get us to the Cottonwood Pass trail which was free of snow and would lead us over the same ridge further south and into the heart of the Sierra.
Our circuitous Day #1 route from the trailhead on trail to our "decision point" and then off trail to the Cottonwood Pass trail and onward to camp.
The route wasn't easy but we hit the trail about 90 minutes later. During that 90 minutes the sky grew darker and darker. Big billowing gray clouds were blocking out the sun and the entire sky. About 20 minutes later, the precipitation started. But wait. It wasn't rain. It was snow. The higher we climbed, the colder it got and the heavier the snow became. My always problematic hands were growing colder by the minute. We huddled under a giant Foxtail Pine and discussed our options.
Hiding under a large Foxtail Pine and contemplating.
One option was to drop back to the car which was now, only about 6 miles away. After some discussion we decided to continue over the pass and then maybe to Chicken Spring Lake to camp. Those who know me, know that I've never enjoyed Chicken Spring Lake. It's usually very low, not relatively picturesque, and almost always busy and packed with PCT hikers as it's their first "Sierra Lake." In addition, I can never remember the name. Chicken Wing? Chicken Leg? Oh yeah, Chicken Spring. We made our way through the spring snow up and over the pass.
Trent reaching the top of Cottonwood Pass with surrounding mountains that have all but disappeared.
At the pass we immediately began looking for a place to camp. We were cold and the snow wasn't letting up. We decided to hoof it to Chicken Spring Lake and were there in no time at all. After some effort, we finally found a couple of large Foxtails with flat ground underneath to set up our tents. We set up camp in the falling snow but by the time we were done and ready to hop inside, the snow had stopped. It was 4:00pm. Unfortunately, all that snow that stuck to those beautifully large Foxtails, began to immediately melt onto our tents below. We both hunkered down inside our sleeping bags and napped while the course of the afternoon slowly slipped by with the constant pitter-pattering of melting snow against the tents overhead. At 5:45pm we emerged to the sun peeking through the broken clouds. It would be a beautiful evening and we enjoyed it over dinner and then wandering around a lake only a couple other people were camped at. Chicken Spring Lake had done us well.
Day 2
Miles: 8.44 + 5.09 = 13.53
Total Miles: 27.21
Elevation Gained: 1,163ft + 1,366ft Day Hike = 2529ft
Elevation Lost: 1,261ft + 1,350ft Day Hike = 2611ft
The frogs had serenaded us all night long reminding us of our trip just a few months earlier to Henry Coe SP. We packed up dry tents and gear thanks to the slight breeze that had dried not only the trees but our tents. We headed out at about 7:30am with the aim of getting into Miter Basin the back way.
We continued northwest on the PCT, seeing only one other hiker in the 4 miles, until we arrived at Upper Rock Trail. He was the only person we would see for the rest of the day and night. We turned north and made our way though a couple of green meadows before arriving at Soldier Lake. This lake gets it name as it's associated with the history of New and Old Army passes.
We continued northwest on the PCT, seeing only one other hiker in the 4 miles, until we arrived at Upper Rock Trail. He was the only person we would see for the rest of the day and night. We turned north and made our way though a couple of green meadows before arriving at Soldier Lake. This lake gets it name as it's associated with the history of New and Old Army passes.
Soldier Lake and the Northwest wall we'd climb to enter Miter Basin.
After a short scramble behind Soldier Lake, we cruised the ridge above, while glimpses of Miter Basin teased us around every corner. Finally, we broke out of the trees and got our first glimpse in all its glory. One of my top 3 favorite places on earth.
Our first full view of Miter Basin.
We wound through the valley to Waterfall Camp. It was spectacular. Less snow than I'd anticipated and a beautiful blue, cloud speckled sky. In no time at all we were in the copse of Foxtail that surround Waterfall Camp. We set up tents. After getting reorganized, we headed back out with day pack gear. Our goal was Crabtree Pass. We missed it by about a mile.
After climbing our waterfall and the a secondary much taller waterfall, we arrived at Sky Blue Lake. It was still almost completely frozen over and we took it all in before making our way around its eastern shore through a mix of snow, rock and flooded meadows taking pictures and videos constantly. We were in no hurry at all.
Sky Blue Lake. Clouds are forming.
Sky Blue Lake's name is a bit hard to understand when frozen over...but look below at the view the fish have.
After climbing the even larger waterfall behind the lake, the view back down at Sky Blue Lake was spectacular. Mt. Langley in the background, named after Samuel Pierpont Langley, an astronomer, physicist, and early aviation pioneer. It is the 9th highest mountain in California and the 10th highest in the contiguous United States at 14,032 feet. We were planning to climb it the following day. Oh how plans ebb and flow.
Sky Blue Lake and Mt. Langley from above.
We passed four more small unnamed lakes and saw them from afar as we continued up the basin. The clouds were gathering and it was getting colder by the minute. It was a circuitous route as we made our way over and around obstacles including car sized boulders, talus, cliffs, snow fields and ice. We made our way to Lake 3697 and could finally see Crabtree Pass in the distance. It was a bit over 1/2 mile as the crow flies, but sure to be over a mile to get to safely. The wind had picked up and the flurries were already starting.
Trent at Lake 3697 with Crabtree Pass in the background looking so close.
We decided to take a break above the lake in a windbreak and assess. It was obvious that another weather system was coming in. We decided that the best decision was to head back to camp.
The further back down the valley we dropped, the heavier the winds and snow got. As we turned around to look back at the pass, the storm had almost completely obscured the view. We’d made the right call. We took a some different twists and turns on our way back to see a couple lakes I'd never been to.
The further back down the valley we dropped, the heavier the winds and snow got. As we turned around to look back at the pass, the storm had almost completely obscured the view. We’d made the right call. We took a some different twists and turns on our way back to see a couple lakes I'd never been to.
"New" unnamed lake I was happy to see for the first time.
Down was much faster than up and we “shoe skied” anything that was steep enough and firm enough. Uphills through the snow were perfect as the snow had softened enough to provide some tread without being so soft that we would sink.
Trent making his way back to camp in worsening weather.
"Snowflake" ice cracks in Sky Blue Lake we hadn't noticed on the way up.
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A "snowflake."
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We arrived back at our tents at 5pm and we hunkered down as we had the day before. About an hour later, we emerged to a sky that had stopped snowing but showed little signs of clearing. We filtered some water and made dinner and in the time we sat chatting the sky lighted up and after dinner we enjoyed a sunset with a bit of color before heading to bed for the night.
Day 3
Miles: 17.76
Total Miles: 44.97
Elevation Gained: 3,005ft
Elevation Lost: 4,145ft
The night before we'd made a plan for the next day. Knowing how plans go, we had options. The plan was to hit the trail by 7am and exit the basin by the route I'd hoped to enter. My favorite line on the upper eastern side of the mouth of the basin, hugging the southern side of Major General and into the small basin paralleling, but above, the Soldier Lake Trail. We planned to take this route to the ridge where New and Old Army Passes climb to before dropping our packs and climbing Mt. Langley.
The morning was freezing. Literally. The low had dipped down to 29 degrees and the basin floor was perfectly calm and very cold.
The morning was freezing. Literally. The low had dipped down to 29 degrees and the basin floor was perfectly calm and very cold.
Trent's picture as my hands were just too cold to take out of my gloves.
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The reflections were incredible.
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We made out way to the base of Major General and the point that I love to enter and exit the basin. Three ancient Foxtail Pines and a small pond mark this spot and I always have to stop and admire them each and every time.
This view never gets old. Trent was perfectly placed against the pond.
Next we made our way up the valley above Soldier Lake and below the ridge that held New and Old Army Passes.
Topping the ridge.
Once atop, we could see further east and south. A new storm was building. It was a 6 mile round trip from that point to the top of Mt. Langley. We'd planned to drop our packs where we stood and make our way up to the summit and back. After surveying the clouds, we made the third tough decision of the trip to skip Langley. The length of the climb paired with the fact we would be leaving our packs and thus have no easy way to carry water, snacks and most importantly, layers, meant the risk was greater than we were prepared to take. Not to mention it was a 2000ft climb.
We instead continued to the other side of the ridge to look over into the Cottonwood Lakes basin.
We instead continued to the other side of the ridge to look over into the Cottonwood Lakes basin.
Cottonwood Lakes #4 and #5 from atop the ridge and north of Old Army Pass.
Our tents were still very wet from the ice that had formed overnight. We headed for a band of rocks to get out of the biting wind. We laid our tents out on some rocks, making sure they were tied down, and sat in the elusive sunshine. Our next goal was about a mile away. New Army Pass. While our gear was drying, we watched a group of three coming towards us from New Army Pass. It boded well. We made the collective decision not to cross paths with the group to get their assessment. We didn't want their opinion to cloud our choice. We would go and have a look for ourselves.
Minutes later, when the clouds covered the sun and the temperature dropped significantly, we packed up our things. We first dropped to Old Army Pass and peeked at the terrifying cornice hanging over the edge of the pass. It would be months before it melted out to provide safe passage. As we left the pass and headed up towards New Army Pass, we passed another solo hiker. He was young (most are young in comparison) and had only a day pack. It didn't look like he had any snow gear with him either. Puzzling. After another 350 feet of climbing we spied the sign.
Minutes later, when the clouds covered the sun and the temperature dropped significantly, we packed up our things. We first dropped to Old Army Pass and peeked at the terrifying cornice hanging over the edge of the pass. It would be months before it melted out to provide safe passage. As we left the pass and headed up towards New Army Pass, we passed another solo hiker. He was young (most are young in comparison) and had only a day pack. It didn't look like he had any snow gear with him either. Puzzling. After another 350 feet of climbing we spied the sign.
The depth of the snow at the sign was a sign of things to come. Mt. Langley is in the background.
This was it. The moment of anticipation. Could we make our way down a pass that we'd forgone two days early trying to ascend. We walked over the the edge and were blown away. It truly was a 50 foot drop. The first 10 feet were completely vertical and the next 40 were steeper than either of us felt comfortable with. There were a set of newish foot prints to the right, and directly below us, some older glissading marks. It was a no go for us. Pictures and video didn't do it justice.
Looking down at New Army Pass and out into Cottonwood Lakes Basin
Tough decision #4 of the trip. Our backup plan was to hike the Army Pass trail back towards Soldier Lake and then head back out the way we'd come in. From the ridge, I could see a line above the trail that would keep us higher and help prevent losing as much elevation. We took that line. It was quite pleasant, but we were both a bit disappointed that we hadn't been able to descend New Army Pass. With that being said, we knew we'd made the right decision.
We were back at the PCT for a short break in no time at all. Descending, with lots of soft snow, is fast work. After a short break, we continued south on the PCT passing about 15 PCT thru-hikers. We chatted with a few while the rest just said "Hi" and continued north. We'd planned to get water at a small creek and camp above Chicken Spring Lake for the night. The creek was busy with people and we continued on to the lake. We took a break and discussed options. We could stay another night at Chicken Spring Lake or head back to the car. After some discussion, we decided to push to the car to drive home, regardless of how late our arrival would be.
Our descent went quickly as we chatted about life. A couple miles from the trailhead thunder boomed and we looked back to see the entire ridge engulfed in yet another storm. We'd made the correct decision once again. The thunder continued and the sky grew darker overhead, but we made it to the car before the storm overtook us.
We headed down towards Lone Pine deciding to drive the hour north to Bishop for better dinner choices before heading home. The hour long drive from Lone Pine to Bishop was unbelievable. We watched a 25-50 mile swatch of the Eastern Sierra ridge, from where we descended and northwards, be completely engulfed in an enormous storm. When Trent checked his weather app, there were tons of weather cells all along the eastern range. Yet another reminder that we had made the right call. I dropped Trent at home at 12:30am. I was home a bit after 1:00am.
An amazing trip all around and never a dull moment for sure.
Summer...here I come!
We were back at the PCT for a short break in no time at all. Descending, with lots of soft snow, is fast work. After a short break, we continued south on the PCT passing about 15 PCT thru-hikers. We chatted with a few while the rest just said "Hi" and continued north. We'd planned to get water at a small creek and camp above Chicken Spring Lake for the night. The creek was busy with people and we continued on to the lake. We took a break and discussed options. We could stay another night at Chicken Spring Lake or head back to the car. After some discussion, we decided to push to the car to drive home, regardless of how late our arrival would be.
Our descent went quickly as we chatted about life. A couple miles from the trailhead thunder boomed and we looked back to see the entire ridge engulfed in yet another storm. We'd made the correct decision once again. The thunder continued and the sky grew darker overhead, but we made it to the car before the storm overtook us.
We headed down towards Lone Pine deciding to drive the hour north to Bishop for better dinner choices before heading home. The hour long drive from Lone Pine to Bishop was unbelievable. We watched a 25-50 mile swatch of the Eastern Sierra ridge, from where we descended and northwards, be completely engulfed in an enormous storm. When Trent checked his weather app, there were tons of weather cells all along the eastern range. Yet another reminder that we had made the right call. I dropped Trent at home at 12:30am. I was home a bit after 1:00am.
An amazing trip all around and never a dull moment for sure.
Summer...here I come!