Prologue
After a real health scare while on the trail a few weeks ago, followed by lots of tests and procedures, I’ve been cleared for takeoff once again. Having lost quite a bit of muscle mass over that time, I was ready to get back on the trail.
My goal was to ascend Mono Pass, one of the few Eastern Sierra passes that I’d never been over. From there, I would hike my lollipop route down Mono Creek to the JMT/PCT and south until I hit the old use trail to Lake Italy. It would be about 4 miles from there to Lake Italy. Once there, my plan was to join the Sierra High Route for about 10 miles, heading over Gabbot Pass and north through the Second Recess to meet back up with the Mono Creek Trail. If I had time, I’d hit the Fourth Recess on the way back.
The Mono Recesses are four long, glacier-carved valleys that cut deep into the eastern side of the Sierra. Each recess reaches back toward the Sierra crest and is surrounded by steep granite walls, jagged peaks, alpine lakes, and streams.
My goal was to ascend Mono Pass, one of the few Eastern Sierra passes that I’d never been over. From there, I would hike my lollipop route down Mono Creek to the JMT/PCT and south until I hit the old use trail to Lake Italy. It would be about 4 miles from there to Lake Italy. Once there, my plan was to join the Sierra High Route for about 10 miles, heading over Gabbot Pass and north through the Second Recess to meet back up with the Mono Creek Trail. If I had time, I’d hit the Fourth Recess on the way back.
The Mono Recesses are four long, glacier-carved valleys that cut deep into the eastern side of the Sierra. Each recess reaches back toward the Sierra crest and is surrounded by steep granite walls, jagged peaks, alpine lakes, and streams.
Day 1
Miles: 17.45
Total Miles: 17.45
Elevation Gained: 2565ft
Elevation Lost: 4600ft
I hit the trail in the afternoon under a cobalt blue sky, with temperatures near 60 and winds blowing 15 to 20 miles an hour. My backpack weighed a bit more than it had on my summer trips, as I was carrying a warmer sleeping setup along with a few extra layers. The forecast I’d seen before the trip called for nighttime temperatures in the 30s, with wind chills dipping into the mid 20s.
As I ascended from the Mosquito Flat Trailhead, the green meadows of Little Lakes Valley below dazzled me with their beauty.
As I ascended from the Mosquito Flat Trailhead, the green meadows of Little Lakes Valley below dazzled me with their beauty.
Little Lakes Valley
The climb up to Mono Pass kicked my butt. I had definitely lost some muscle and endurance over those two weeks of health issues. I also had to remind myself that the first day into the Eastern Sierra was always challenging. Going from sea level to 12,000 on the same day was never easy. The top was desolate, almost like a moonscape, with a lake seemingly popping out of nowhere. I saw a couple of day hikers approaching the lake from the other direction and waved as we passed. They still had a long way to go to get back to the trailhead.
Summit Lake
The trail down from Mono Pass surprised me. There were even a few stretches where I found myself climbing again, and the trail was much more beat up than I would have expected. I eventually passed Trail Lakes with a snow survey shelter sitting nearby, but there was nobody around. The area was stunning and felt incredibly remote. As I continued down toward Mono Creek, the trail just seemed to get rougher and more beat up.
When I got to the turn off for the fourth recess, I made the decision to check it out. The three-quarter mile walk was well worth it and I found a place next to the lake and made some dinner.
When I got to the turn off for the fourth recess, I made the decision to check it out. The three-quarter mile walk was well worth it and I found a place next to the lake and made some dinner.
Not long after, a woman walked up behind me and greeted me so she wouldn’t scare me. She settled in about 40 feet away, on the other side of some trees and shrubs, so we both had our privacy. When I was done cooking, eating, and relaxing, I packed up and walked past her, saying goodbye. She asked where I was headed, and I stopped and talked for a bit.
She was a Sierra Club volunteer scouting the area for a possible group hike. She had been there for three days and had decided it wasn’t an area she would bring others. She then shared a story that answered my question about why the trail was so beat up. Each day, while day hiking around the area, she had seen the same group of horse packers with around 15 horses and mules, many carrying riders. That immediately explained the condition of the trail. That many hoofed animals coming through, especially with the weight of riders and gear, really did a job on it. Medium sized rocks had been dislodged from the soil and now sat precariously on the trail, just waiting to roll a hiker’s ankle. Not only that, but every granite surface was covered with kicked up dirt and decomposed granite. Those tiny, sand-like rocks acted like marbles between the granite and my shoes, causing lots of slipping and sliding. We both agreed that the amount of impact they were creating was too much. Unfortunately, she told me they had been traveling through the same area I was headed, so I could expect the beat up trail to continue for some time. I walked away around 4:35, knowing I still had plenty of daylight left.
She was a Sierra Club volunteer scouting the area for a possible group hike. She had been there for three days and had decided it wasn’t an area she would bring others. She then shared a story that answered my question about why the trail was so beat up. Each day, while day hiking around the area, she had seen the same group of horse packers with around 15 horses and mules, many carrying riders. That immediately explained the condition of the trail. That many hoofed animals coming through, especially with the weight of riders and gear, really did a job on it. Medium sized rocks had been dislodged from the soil and now sat precariously on the trail, just waiting to roll a hiker’s ankle. Not only that, but every granite surface was covered with kicked up dirt and decomposed granite. Those tiny, sand-like rocks acted like marbles between the granite and my shoes, causing lots of slipping and sliding. We both agreed that the amount of impact they were creating was too much. Unfortunately, she told me they had been traveling through the same area I was headed, so I could expect the beat up trail to continue for some time. I walked away around 4:35, knowing I still had plenty of daylight left.
Rejoining the Mono Creek trail and grateful for the trip into the Fourth Recess.
The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and it was getting darker in the Mono Creek Canyon. Just before 7:30, the sun finally set. I was almost out of water, so I decided to keep hiking to the junction of the Mono Creek Trail and the JMT/PCT. There was water there at the North Fork of Mono Creek and, another quarter mile south, a perfect campsite. I set up camp in the dwindling light without needing a headlamp.
Day 2
Miles: 23.61
Total Miles: 41.06
Elevation Gained: 6116ft
Elevation Lost: 5225ft
Decent night’s sleep last night, and I definitely stayed warm enough. I woke up and had breakfast and coffee in bed before packing up and hitting the trail. My hands were cold, but I was wearing my Chilly Grip H2O gloves that a good friend gave me, which helped manage the chill.
Crossing the Mono Creek Bridge not long after sunrise.
The 2,000 foot climb up from Mono Creek went surprisingly well. I felt stronger than I had a little over two months ago on this very same climb during my JMT YoYo attempt. Slow but sure movement. I saw a number of southbound hikers throughout the morning but didn’t really stop to chat with anyone, just exchanging greetings as we passed. Most importantly, my body was feeling significantly better than it had the day before.
Looking back on the Mono Creek canyon wall opposite of my climb out of the canyon.
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Enormous, centuries old Juniper lined this section of the trail.
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"Long-haired" Juniper Tree
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Long hair close up
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I reached the Lake Italy Trail turnoff around 11:00 AM and stopped for a lunch break.
From there, it was challenging to stay on the old, unmaintained use trail as it ascended the creek. There were a few times when I completely lost the trail in thickets of willow and just had to push forward until I reached a spot with a wide enough view to find it again. With that being said, I was in a canyon and headed upstream, so the opportunity to make any major navigational mistake was almost zero.
About halfway into the ascent, I was crossing a green, grassy area with rocks the size of coolers scattered here and there. I stepped on one next to a small gully, and it suddenly shifted. As I fell into the hole, the rock rolled back onto my leg, just barely grazing my inner calf. It gave me a nice scrape, but I got lucky it wasn’t worse.
About halfway into the ascent, I was crossing a green, grassy area with rocks the size of coolers scattered here and there. I stepped on one next to a small gully, and it suddenly shifted. As I fell into the hole, the rock rolled back onto my leg, just barely grazing my inner calf. It gave me a nice scrape, but I got lucky it wasn’t worse.
Later, the canyon running along the Hilgard Branch, opened up to sweeping 360 degree views.
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In the Hilgard Branch looking east at Mt. Julius Caesar.
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Toward the top of the canyon, I found myself walking alongside a 50 foot deep creek channel carved into the granite. There were a few precarious steps as I made my way toward the top, but all went well. As I finally crested the canyon, I was surprised and grateful to find myself standing at the edge of Lake Italy.
First views of Lake Italy. This lake sits at just over 11,200 feet in a stark, mostly treeless basin surrounded by some enormous Sierra peaks.
All of my beta told me that travel along the north side of the lake was less challenging than along the south side. The farther I made my way along the north shore, the more grateful I was for having read that ahead of time. The south side was strewn with talus for much of the way and had at least one precarious granite slope that slid right into the lake. The north side had fields of talus broken up by long stretches of green. It was a surprisingly pleasant walk.
The western part of Lake Italy looking east.
At the east end of the lake, there was a gap before a second, smaller lake called Toe Lake, which was my signal to start ascending Gabbot Pass. It had gotten quite gusty over the last hour and a half, so I tucked myself behind a large, car sized boulder. I had a snack, drank some water, and took a look at my map to figure out the best route up the pass. It looked like the climb was going to come in two separate ascents. From where I sat, I could see the first, but the second was completely hidden from view.
The view toward the top of Gabbot Pass from the edge of Toe Lake.
I packed up my gear and got started. The ascent to the first part of the pass, although it took a while, went very smoothly. Once I reached the top of that section, I settled in behind another big boulder to assess the second half of the climb.
It was a mammoth wall. But I could see a route that led straight up, then to the left, and finally up what looked like a very doable ramp to the top of Gabbot Pass.
It was a mammoth wall. But I could see a route that led straight up, then to the left, and finally up what looked like a very doable ramp to the top of Gabbot Pass.
Part two of the Gabbot Pass ascent.
I got packed up and got going. Although the first half was extremely steep, it was greens dotted with small talus. I was able to make my way through very slowly, but in no time at all, I was on the ramp. Just as it looked from the bottom, the ramp lead all the way to the top of the pass.
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From Toe Lake looking up towards the pass.
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From the pass looking down towards Toe Lake.
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From the top, I had an amazing view north toward Upper Mills Creek Lake and, farther in the distance, the Second Recess, which would eventually lead me back toward the trailhead.
Atop Gabbot Pass at 12,254ft.
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Looking north from the top of the pass. The big, dark wall in the distance is the northern wall of Mono Creek Canyon.
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After a few pictures and videos, I started down. It was a steep, talus filled descent with, at times, truck sized boulders to navigate around. After about an hour, I arrived at a beautiful turquoise tarn and made my way around its eastern shore before starting the even steeper drop down toward the lake.
The descent begins.
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The descent continues.
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The view from the northern end of the tarn looking back up at Gabbot Pass.
From the tarn, I dropped steeply around a bend, and in about 45 minutes I arrived at Upper Mills Creek Lake. Although the lake was where I’d planned to camp, it was only 4:30 and still quite windy. Instead, I took an extended break and decided to make it a dinner stop while enjoying the spectacular scenery. After a little over 90 minutes, just as the sun dipped behind the western canyon wall, I packed up and got started again.
About halfway down to Upper Mills Creek Lake.
The trail dropped steeply a couple of different times on its way down to Lower Mills Creek Lake.
A small, pretty plateau before the final drop to Lower Mills Creek Lake.
After making my way down to the back of the lake, and taking one last look up at the pass the trail, I cut into the trees and followed the creek for about a mile.
Lower Mills Creek Lake looking back up towards Gabbot Pass in the distance.
It was about 6:20 and already getting dark in the canyon. The sun wasn’t setting until 7:25, but the shadows were already deep. The trail was becoming more technical and harder to find as I descended.
Coming out of the trees, the trail suddenly dropped what felt almost straight down through sand and loose scree mixed with talus. This was one of the most challenging sections of the trip so far, as the “trail” dropped precariously for over 900 feet, cutting back and forth through loose everything. It felt like it took forever to get back down to the valley floor.
Once down, I reentered the trees and started looking for a good place to camp. Once again, I was having a lot of trouble following the use trail, so I just kept moving in the general direction downstream. At about 7:30, I spotted a flat area through the trees. When I walked over, I found the remnants of an old campfire and realized I was back on the use trail. I set up camp and turned in for the night.
At about 10:30pm, I woke up and could feel moisture gathering on my bivy and gear. I immediately hopped up and put up my Cape (tarp) to keep the moisture off my things. I was out again the minute my head hit the pillow.
Coming out of the trees, the trail suddenly dropped what felt almost straight down through sand and loose scree mixed with talus. This was one of the most challenging sections of the trip so far, as the “trail” dropped precariously for over 900 feet, cutting back and forth through loose everything. It felt like it took forever to get back down to the valley floor.
Once down, I reentered the trees and started looking for a good place to camp. Once again, I was having a lot of trouble following the use trail, so I just kept moving in the general direction downstream. At about 7:30, I spotted a flat area through the trees. When I walked over, I found the remnants of an old campfire and realized I was back on the use trail. I set up camp and turned in for the night.
At about 10:30pm, I woke up and could feel moisture gathering on my bivy and gear. I immediately hopped up and put up my Cape (tarp) to keep the moisture off my things. I was out again the minute my head hit the pillow.
Day 3
Miles: 15.42
Total Miles: 56.48
Elevation Gained: 3987ft
Elevation Lost: 2,976ft
I woke up about 30 minutes before my alarm. My watch told me I’d slept about 5 1/2 hours, which surprised me since I’d tossed and turned most of the night. The tarp did its job, and all of my gear was dry, although the inside of the tarp had quite a bit of condensation on it. I wasn’t concerned, as it was my last day on trail and a wet tarp in my pack could easily be dried at home.
I got started making coffee and breakfast. The goal was to start packing up close to first light so I wouldn’t have to hike with a headlamp. My plan for the day was simple. Hike out, get back to the car, and head home. I knew I had about 200 feet left to drop from where I was camped to hit the Mono Creek Trail, and then an almost 4,000 foot climb back to the top of Mono Pass. The difference between today’s 4,000 feet of climbing and yesterday’s 6,000 feet was that all of today’s climbing would be on an established trail. Although the trail had been badly beaten up by the horse and mule group, it was still a trail and wouldn’t require the kind of effort and mental concentration that off trail travel demands.
I hit the trail just after 6:00 a.m. It was a very chilly morning with a temperature of 30 degrees but a windchill that made it feel close to 20 degrees. The first 20 minutes were pretty bushwhacky, but after that, it was a beautiful, winding trail through the forest.
I got started making coffee and breakfast. The goal was to start packing up close to first light so I wouldn’t have to hike with a headlamp. My plan for the day was simple. Hike out, get back to the car, and head home. I knew I had about 200 feet left to drop from where I was camped to hit the Mono Creek Trail, and then an almost 4,000 foot climb back to the top of Mono Pass. The difference between today’s 4,000 feet of climbing and yesterday’s 6,000 feet was that all of today’s climbing would be on an established trail. Although the trail had been badly beaten up by the horse and mule group, it was still a trail and wouldn’t require the kind of effort and mental concentration that off trail travel demands.
I hit the trail just after 6:00 a.m. It was a very chilly morning with a temperature of 30 degrees but a windchill that made it feel close to 20 degrees. The first 20 minutes were pretty bushwhacky, but after that, it was a beautiful, winding trail through the forest.
Exiting the Second Recess with a huge sense of accomplishment.
The climb back up past the Third Recess, then the Fourth Recess, and eventually up to Trail Lakes felt far less daunting than I’d built it up to be in my head just two days earlier. This was the section I had questioned myself about. This was the climb I’d had serious doubts I’d be able to do. But now, after spending almost an entire day traveling off trail, it no longer felt overwhelming. I felt strong and confident. Sure, the climb wasn’t easy, but it was completely doable. I was capable of far more than I’d given myself credit for earlier in the trip.
I got to Mono Pass by midmorning. I’d seen a few backpackers and even a couple of trail runners along the way. The descent from the pass was fast. I felt so good that I even jogged some of it.
I got to Mono Pass by midmorning. I’d seen a few backpackers and even a couple of trail runners along the way. The descent from the pass was fast. I felt so good that I even jogged some of it.
I stopped for a few minutes to watch the wind howling across Ruby Lake 600 feet below me.
Once I hit the junction with the Little Lakes Trail, I was inundated by people. At least 75-100 hikers passed me going uphill, making for a very slow last half mile. When I got to the parking lot, it was insane. Every spot was full, and cars were circling. A woman asked if she could park behind me until I was ready to go. I told her sure, that I’d be about 20 minutes while I changed and cleaned up.
On the drive out, every small parking area was overflowing, with cars parked everywhere, legally and illegally. The one lane road was tight and dangerous with all the traffic. It was kind of a cluster getting out.
On the drive out, every small parking area was overflowing, with cars parked everywhere, legally and illegally. The one lane road was tight and dangerous with all the traffic. It was kind of a cluster getting out.
Another spectacular trip in the books. I did what I came out to do and, in the process, regained some much needed confidence in my physical strength, my endurance, and my capabilities. There weren’t too many weekends left in 2026 before the snow would cover my majestic mountains. I’d need to get out a few more times for sure.