If Walt Disney had lived to follow through with his vision, not only would Disney World have taken the east by storm, but the Mineral King area would have become the a self contained Alpine Village that would have attracted 2.5 million visitors annually-800,000 of them from out of state-by 1976, the first full year of operation. In November 1965, Disney purchased the 27,000 acres that would become what we know as “Disney World.” Just a month later, the US Forest Service awarded a permit to Disney to create his vision for a recreation area like no other in Mineral King, directly next to Sequoia National Park.
Luckily for Isabela, myself, and the world….it never happened. After an 11 year campaign, Disney productions walked away from its plan and in 1978 Congress annexed the Mineral King area to Sequoia National Park, protecting it from development forever.
This was the area that Isabela and I left for in the dark of the night, at 3:30 am on June 22nd. With Isabela sound asleep in the backseat, we headed south towards our destination. I was very sleepy and had to stop two times for coffee in the first two hours. At about 8:30 am we arrived in the town of Three Rivers. This was a special place to me. Although I had never visited the town before, it was a place that my mom and dad had traveled to annually for years, first from San Luis Obispo and later from their home in Roseville. They came every April for a Dixieland Jazz Festival that they enjoyed very much. Each year my father and I would have the same talk about how hard a trip this was for them. My dad would explain the long drive and the very small town where both hotels and places to eat were extremely limited.
Driving into town, I could see at least one of those things had changed. There were hotels, motels, cabins and campsites for rent everywhere. But as Isabela and I looked for a diner to have a bit of breakfast, I could see that the food offerings in town had not changed one bit. Finally, after driving through town a couple times, we found the one small coffee shop that was open and went on in. Groggily making our way through breakfast sandwiches, we spoke a bit about our upcoming hike and how excited we both were to start. And upon finishing our meal, we headed back to the car for our final leg. We continued up the road towards signs pointing us to Sequoia National Park, arrived at the entrance station, paid our $20 entrance fee, and continued on the road gaining elevation very quickly. Soon, we had moved from a dry scrubby lower elevation to one much higher filled with creeks, ferns and Giant Sequoias. It was beautiful. That is until we discovered that we had traveled an hour out of our way in the wrong direction on the wrong road. Ouch….
We had missed a small road (marked with only a common street sign like all the rest in and around Three Rivers) that would take us into the very little used Mineral King area of Sequoia National Park.
Once back in Three Rivers, we found the street and started up the very road that had been at the center of the controversy in the 60’s and 70’s. This 25 mile, sometimes dirt, sometimes broken asphalt, but always windy road was the center of the debate to create the winter recreation area that Walt Disney envisioned. This road, that was at first going to be rebuilt into something of a superhighway, then later into a cog railway and still later into an electric railway or monorail, was still basically the same 15-20 mph difficult twisty road it had been since it was built in 1873.
It took more than an hour to get to the 24th mile and the Mineral King Ranger Station. By this time it was a bit over 7 hours since we had left Sacramento. We were spent.
We entered the ranger station and were greeted by a kind, young, female ranger who asked us a myriad of questions in preparing our backcountry permit. She was impressed with our route and did mention that the small 8 mile section where we would leave the National Park and enter National Forest could be difficult in terms of finding the trail. The NFS just didn’t have the funds that the NPS had at their disposal for trail maintenance.
Our 80 mile loop was about to begin. We drove the additional mile to the end of the road and parked in a small dirt lot with many other cars. We put the final touches on our heavy backpacks, laden with 8 days of food, and headed up the Farewell Canyon Trail aiming for the 10,587 foot Farewell Gap. We were now at 7800 feet. It was 1:00pm.
The trail was hot and dry with almost no shade for the first 6 miles. We saw a family of three (from Truckee), who would later take our picture, and we saw two other backpackers from afar, who would end up turning and taking another side trail. That was it for humans. But...the scenery was filled with life. We saw butterflies, birds, marmots and deer over the next few hours. We also crossed creek after creek as Isabela reintroduced her physical and mental body to the rigors of backpacking .
At 3:30 we took our first extended break. Filling up on snacks and water, Isabela was clearly having trouble with the altitude. Now nearing 9000 feet, the air was thinning and making getting enough oxygen with each breath more difficult as we went. After the break, breathing became more and more difficult as we neared Farewell Gap and our “short” departure from the National Park and into the National Forest. At 10,587 feet, and now in the shadows, we went from sweating on the sun filled climb to shivering on the gap as the howling wind and shadows brought the temperature down by at least 30 degrees.
We quickly snapped a couple pictures before heading down the backside of the gap aiming for lower ground and trying to get ourselves out of the wind. Our goal was Bullfrog Lakes, but it was soon apparent that we would not be camping where we had planned. It was a 1000 foot drop immediately after the gap and would have been another 1000 foot climb on a side trail to the lakes. We decided against the additional elevation and chose instead to follow the Little Kern River and into a stand of trees. There we found a few existing deserted campsites with windbreaks built from small rock walls. It was starting to get dark, so we quickly made dinner and set up camp.
No tent this year. We had a tarp in case of inclement weather, but our goal was to sleep out and under the stars as many nights as we could. The mosquitos we a bit buzzy, so Isabela slept under my A-16 Bug Bivy, one of my favorite pieces of gear.
Sleep came quickly to the noise of the rushing river just yards from our campsite. Isabela saw a deer come into our campsite in the middle of the night to see who was hanging out in it’s living room.
The next morning, after a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee for me (and a bean/cheese burrito for Isabela) we set off on our trail. In a very short time, it became apparent to us that the trail through the National Forest would indeed be difficult to follow. After only 20-30 minutes, the trail was completely taken over by pokey sharp brush concealing loose sliding shale. Soon we were at a place that we knew was a bit too high and would need to make our way down to the river for a crossing in the next mile or so.
We found what looked like the least steep and most do-able route. It wasn’t too tough for the first 20 feet or so, but for the next 150 feet down it was perilous. Isabela was a trouper. Brave and focused. The canyon wall was so steep and so loose that I instructed Isabela to give me her hiking poles and use her hands and legs to make her way down. With Isabela above me with both hands and feet dug into the shale, spider man style, and me below her we started to make our way down. Isabela was sliding quite a bit, so I started placing foot below her before she took each step to enable her to step down to my foot each time and give her a bit more tracking. It was slow going indeed.
This short section took over an hour. This would be a defining day for us as it would eventually set us almost exactly one full day behind.
After getting off the wall, we started following the river once again.
Cairns (piles of rocks that hikers build to help each other find and stay on the trail) dotted the trail for long enough to give us a false sense of security that following the overgrown trail would be possible. We followed the river and kept a keen eye out for carins that might show us the best place to cross. An hour in...there was no crossing. But we did come to a small clearing used as a campsite. We decided to take a break for some much needed rest, food and water.
Setting up one of my other favorite pieces of gear, my Alite Monarch Chair, we took a load off and refueled our bodies and minds. I’ve used my chair a lot in the last year but never with Isabela. I had no idea that sitting in the chair with her in my lap would work so well for both of us. Over the next few days we would find it to be a very symbiotic experience. It provided us both relaxing breaks, kept the mosquitos off of more of us than if walking, and the cuddling provided a sense of calm happiness. It was blissful.
After the rest, food and water, we set off once more still searching for where our trail would cross the river. In the end, we never found the correct place to cross. We hiked further than where the crossing should have been and finally just chose to cross. This was the second defining moment of our hike. This crossing would put us on the opposite side of another creek that we would need to cross minutes later. And this crossing would put us on the wrong side of the Wet Meadows Creek for the next two hours. These two hours were spent switchbacking up the side of a canyon wall knowing that we were in the wrong place but knowing that getting to the right place would be even more difficult.
Finally, after more than 120 minutes of slipping, sliding, scrambling, stepping over and under obstacles and lots of bushwhacking, we dropped down to the Wet Meadows Creek and sat down to talk. Luckily, Isabela was wearing long pants as my legs we cut, scraped and bleeding. We were tired and wanted to be done for the day. But, to be done meant getting water for the night and finding a flat spot to camp. Taking out my monocular, I spotted, what I thought was a cairn about 250 yards up on the other side of the creek. We decided to fill our waters and climb the opposite bank in search of a flat spot to camp and maybe….just maybe the trail.
After getting up and over the steepest part, I went ahead in search of somewhere to camp. After about 10 more minutes I found a decent spot. I dropped my pack and went back to get Isabela’s pack from her so she could walk the final stretch without the weight.
Once we got back to the spot I had found, it didn’t look quite as comfortable, so I told Isabela to wait with the gear as I explored a bit higher up the hill. The first 100 yards or so looked no more promising, but I pressed ahead a bit more. Just over another rise I found….the trail! And just beyond the trail was a much better camp spot.
I made my way back to Isabela and we moved our gear up the hill to the new spot. We were both wiped out by now. We ate, drank, set up camp, and collapsed. We were thankful we had found the trail for the next day, but had nothing left in our tanks to celebrate and fell asleep to a silent night filled with a few insects. It was much different feel than spending the night before next to a rushing river.
We awoke in the morning in much better physical and mental shape. I am always amazed at how quickly the human body can recover from merely being able to rest.
We knew that we only had about 3 miles of trail before getting back into the National Park and were encouraged that the trail would be easier to follow at that point. We were determined to stay on the National Forest Trail until then. We succeeded. The trail was very overgrown in parts and very steep in others, but after a little over an hour we crossed back into Sequoia National Park. It was a spectacular day. A slight breeze created a dance of delicate wildflowers and pine trees. It was truly a new day.
We hiked another couple hours to South Fork Meadows, the place we were supposed to be camped the night before, and found an absolutely peaceful place. A multicolored green meadow, that for a moment challenged the reality of California’s drought, spread out before us. Granite rocks and a large dead tree lying on its side decorated a meadow with a meandering stream right through the middle. Isabela dropped her pack and quickly found schools upon schools of Golden Trout dancing up and down the stream in perfect synchronicity. We had arrived.
We spread out our tarp, set up the chair, collected and purified water, and then began to nourish our bodies. Once revitalized, Isabela began some sketching and water color art while I set up the solar charger and relaxed a bit in the shade.
Over the next couple of hours, we just soaked up everything. Sometime in that block of time, three NPS trail workers on three horses and a mule came by and we greeted each other. Then, later, the same trail workers came back past us and asked if we would be staying through the weekend. When we answered that we would indeed still be in the backcountry, they mentioned approaching storms and warned us to be careful.
Earlier in the week, I had seen that the weather forecast called for rain on Saturday and Sunday. I didn't think much about it because we were completely prepared to both hike and camp in the rain. I was actually looking forward to some possible afternoon thunderstorms.
At about 4:00pm we set off again with the aim of getting to Hockett Meadows and making some decisions about the rest of our hike. I knew we were a day behind, and that there was a manned patrol station at Hockett. I figured we really needed to reevaluate the trip based on the last two difficult days and getting more information about the storm. The hike was mostly level and downhill a bit, and just as beautiful as the previous hours on the trail.
We arrived at Hockett at about 5:30 and wandered past the campsites with bear lockers and over to the Patrol Cabin. An older man was lowering the American Flag for the day as we walked up.
We spent the next 20 minutes or so talking to him. He had been stationed at this cabin for the past three weeks and hadn’t seen anyone else except us. He reiterated that this was a very unused section of SNP. After not seeing anyone ourselves for about 50 hours, except the NPS trail workers and himself, we understood the remoteness of this area and very much appreciated it.
He wrote some information about us in a small journal, told us he would be putting his horses out in the meadow in a while, informed us about the trail worker camp just through the trees and their horses and mules and then we talked about about the incoming storm.
He told us that the weather service was calling for the storm to hit Friday through Saturday and that it came from remnants of a monsoon. It was projected to be a very dry storm with little if any precipitation. He went on to tell us that the storm would include a lot of thunder and lightning strikes. I caught the look of surprise and a bit of fear from Isabela out of the corner of my eye and realized that she had no experience hiking in either of those conditions. I knew we would have to have a long talk.
And a long talk we had. We spent hours sitting in the meadow, making dinner, hydrating and talking about all of the options we had. We discussed literally all possibilities and tried to be very honest with each other about our thoughts. We both felt very strongly about trying to finish the planned loop, but both had different concerns about doing so. We went back and forth and finally settled on the fact we would take an alternate trail the next day and start to make our way back to the Ranger Station and car. It just made the most sense.
We fell asleep that night to again a much different atmosphere. The horses and mules in the field were all wearing bells. And all night long it sounded like Santa Claus was landing his sleigh out in Hockett Meadow. It was enchanting.
We woke the next morning with renewed purpose but also sadness that we were going to be cutting our trip short. We hopped onto the trail and started...up…? Up was puzzling since the Patrol Cabin ranger had told us that the trail back to Mineral King would be mostly flat and downhill. We crossed three bridges and continued up, up, and up.
After about an hour we came to a sign that informed us that we had taken a, “scenic detour” as we would call it for the rest of the trip, up an alternate trail and not in our planned direction. Our bubbles were popped...to say the least. We had finally come to a decision, acted on it, but gone two miles out of our way that we would have to walk back to start our day again.
We walked the 2 miles back to Hockett Meadows in complete silence. Each thinking it all through and trying to figure out what this “scenic detour” would mean to our day and our trip. The night before we had decided to head back towards the car knowing that it would be about 10 miles. We would sleep in, knowing that there was a good water source and camping spot halfway in at the five mile mark. Now that five mile mark would be the 7 mile mark and it would be about 14 miles back to the Ranger Station. Circumstances had changed yet once again.
Once back in Hockett Meadows we confirmed that we were indeed now on the correct trail. We hiked the two miles to where the trail would split and going right meant heading back to the car. At the split we sat once again to refuel our bodies and confirm with each other that we were still making the right decision. After a snack and a talk we decided that we would continue back towards the Ranger Station and get as far as we could today. We could camp at a creek in another 4ish miles or try to get back to the Ranger Station and car.
The 4 miles were enjoyable but in the last 10 minutes or so the heat sapped us both and when we arrived at Deer Creek we were in dire need of a rest.
After food, water, and rest we made the decision to try for the Ranger Station and car. In another 15 minutes or so we heard a chainsaw and knew that we were about to come upon the trail workers once more. As we rounded another bend they were just finishing the final cut or a huge log blocking the trail. We watched them all get behind the section of log and push as hard as they could. At first the log didn’t budge, and then slowly it started rolling. Then, it just took off downhill and with it the trail workers let out, what I can only imagine, is their ceremonial cheer each time this event takes place.
The horses and mule were tied up on the trail, so we walked below them on the trail (the respectful thing to do since pack animals get spooked by backpackers above them as they look much bigger.) After passing the animals we climbed back up to the trail and met the trail workers once again. We talked to them about the remainder of the trail to the Ranger Station, the storm, the remoteness of this area (they hadn’t seen anyone in 3 weeks either), and their jobs.
When we started walking again Isabela told me that she could see me doing that job :)
We knew that when we made it to the Ranger Station, it would still be another mile to the car. I was confident that I could get a ride from someone on the Mineral King Road or from someone in the adjacent campground. Our plan was to get the car, drive the 2 miles to Silver City (private cabins in the NP), take our 5$ showers there, maybe have some food, and then stay there if there was a room or drive the 25 mile windy road to Three Rivers and try to find a place to stay there.
In the next 4 miles we walked through a newly burned area which was completely devastated. The trees were gone or short pieces of standing charcoal and the ground was stipped of all vegitation. We could see what recent rains had already done to the weak hillside with nothing to hold it in place at all. As I mentioned to Isabela that this would be a very dangerous place to be in rain due to heavy mudslides, she suggested that we move along.
In another hour we came to the road and campground. The first thing we saw was a family with 3 young children and suddenly Isabela and I had a real spring in our steps. We hiked into the campground and past the family deciding not to interrupt their dinner to ask for a ride. Around another corner we walked towards an older couple out for a later afternoon stroll. When I asked how far it was to the Ranger Station, the woman made a face and said that it was a “good ways up the road.”
Isabela was disappointed. She had just walked 14 miles and we really thought she was done. With slumped shoulders, Isabela got onto Mineral King Road. The road took a turn about 25 yards ahead of us and as we made the turn we could see the Ranger Station. It was less than 100 yards from where we talked to the woman. We were reminded once again that distance is always relative.
We walked up the steps to the ranger station and Isabela sat on the same bench she and I had eaten lunch at a few days before. I took off my pack, emptied my pockets and got ready for my jog to the car. Isabela got some food and water out for her wait.
Starting on the road felt good without a pack. The road was going slightly uphill towards a bend and this pattern continued for almost 1.5 miles until I got to the car. It was a long and warm jog.
Upon reaching the car, I jumped in and made the quick drive back to Isabela. She hopped in and we drove the 10 minutes to Silver City.
We parked the car and headed into the General Store/Office. We were immediately greeted and asked if we needed some cold water. I think we looked tired. We purchased showers and inquired about lodging. We were pleasantly surprised to hear they had one cabin left. The “Hiker’s Hut.” The man told us 2 or 3 times that it was very small. When I asked him if the room was bigger than 2 Thermorest sleeping pads, he laughed and assured us that it was indeed. He asked if we needed to see it first and I laughed and told him we would take it.
We walked into the cabin and Isabela cheered. It had all the amenities we would need. Old rustic looks and smells. It had a double bed, a propane light, an oil lantern and a sink. We were in heaven.
We grabbed towels and headed to the shower houses. We both took long, hot, relaxing showers before meeting back at the cabin and then heading to the General Store’s restaurant for some grub.
Isabela had a burger, fries, slice of watermelon, and a lemonade. I had a grilled cheese sandwich with grilled onions and tomatoes, with watermelon, fries, tomato bisque soup and two mouthwatering beers. It was perfect. We sat across from a very nice older couple from Minnesota who was very impressed with the hike Isabela had just completed.
Isabela informed me while eating that she had seen that there was going to be a ranger talk at 8:00pm and sure enough, as we ordered our pie and ice cream the ranger showed up and set up his things.
The ranger, who was also coincidentally from Minnesota, was even more impressed with Isabela’s 40 mile loop. He knew of the difficulty of the terrain we had traveled and dotted on Isabela quite a bit. It was fun to watch her shine.
He gave his very interactive presentation and about 9:15pm we headed to bed. Falling asleep with the sound of the creek running behind our cabin was, yet again….wonderful.
We woke up the next morning, cleaned up, had a bit of breakfast and headed out. It was a fast 4.5 hour drive home.
This had been a very memorable trip and we both learned a lot. We had bit off a bit more than we could chew due to those first two really difficult days. We were reminded that having options and being very flexible with our plans was important. And Isabela reminded me that this place would be here and she was committed to coming back and hiking the other half with me.
And once again, we were both reminded of one of the most important sayings in backpacking….but also in life.
It’s not about the destination….it’s about the journey.
Luckily for Isabela, myself, and the world….it never happened. After an 11 year campaign, Disney productions walked away from its plan and in 1978 Congress annexed the Mineral King area to Sequoia National Park, protecting it from development forever.
This was the area that Isabela and I left for in the dark of the night, at 3:30 am on June 22nd. With Isabela sound asleep in the backseat, we headed south towards our destination. I was very sleepy and had to stop two times for coffee in the first two hours. At about 8:30 am we arrived in the town of Three Rivers. This was a special place to me. Although I had never visited the town before, it was a place that my mom and dad had traveled to annually for years, first from San Luis Obispo and later from their home in Roseville. They came every April for a Dixieland Jazz Festival that they enjoyed very much. Each year my father and I would have the same talk about how hard a trip this was for them. My dad would explain the long drive and the very small town where both hotels and places to eat were extremely limited.
Driving into town, I could see at least one of those things had changed. There were hotels, motels, cabins and campsites for rent everywhere. But as Isabela and I looked for a diner to have a bit of breakfast, I could see that the food offerings in town had not changed one bit. Finally, after driving through town a couple times, we found the one small coffee shop that was open and went on in. Groggily making our way through breakfast sandwiches, we spoke a bit about our upcoming hike and how excited we both were to start. And upon finishing our meal, we headed back to the car for our final leg. We continued up the road towards signs pointing us to Sequoia National Park, arrived at the entrance station, paid our $20 entrance fee, and continued on the road gaining elevation very quickly. Soon, we had moved from a dry scrubby lower elevation to one much higher filled with creeks, ferns and Giant Sequoias. It was beautiful. That is until we discovered that we had traveled an hour out of our way in the wrong direction on the wrong road. Ouch….
We had missed a small road (marked with only a common street sign like all the rest in and around Three Rivers) that would take us into the very little used Mineral King area of Sequoia National Park.
Once back in Three Rivers, we found the street and started up the very road that had been at the center of the controversy in the 60’s and 70’s. This 25 mile, sometimes dirt, sometimes broken asphalt, but always windy road was the center of the debate to create the winter recreation area that Walt Disney envisioned. This road, that was at first going to be rebuilt into something of a superhighway, then later into a cog railway and still later into an electric railway or monorail, was still basically the same 15-20 mph difficult twisty road it had been since it was built in 1873.
It took more than an hour to get to the 24th mile and the Mineral King Ranger Station. By this time it was a bit over 7 hours since we had left Sacramento. We were spent.
We entered the ranger station and were greeted by a kind, young, female ranger who asked us a myriad of questions in preparing our backcountry permit. She was impressed with our route and did mention that the small 8 mile section where we would leave the National Park and enter National Forest could be difficult in terms of finding the trail. The NFS just didn’t have the funds that the NPS had at their disposal for trail maintenance.
Our 80 mile loop was about to begin. We drove the additional mile to the end of the road and parked in a small dirt lot with many other cars. We put the final touches on our heavy backpacks, laden with 8 days of food, and headed up the Farewell Canyon Trail aiming for the 10,587 foot Farewell Gap. We were now at 7800 feet. It was 1:00pm.
The trail was hot and dry with almost no shade for the first 6 miles. We saw a family of three (from Truckee), who would later take our picture, and we saw two other backpackers from afar, who would end up turning and taking another side trail. That was it for humans. But...the scenery was filled with life. We saw butterflies, birds, marmots and deer over the next few hours. We also crossed creek after creek as Isabela reintroduced her physical and mental body to the rigors of backpacking .
At 3:30 we took our first extended break. Filling up on snacks and water, Isabela was clearly having trouble with the altitude. Now nearing 9000 feet, the air was thinning and making getting enough oxygen with each breath more difficult as we went. After the break, breathing became more and more difficult as we neared Farewell Gap and our “short” departure from the National Park and into the National Forest. At 10,587 feet, and now in the shadows, we went from sweating on the sun filled climb to shivering on the gap as the howling wind and shadows brought the temperature down by at least 30 degrees.
We quickly snapped a couple pictures before heading down the backside of the gap aiming for lower ground and trying to get ourselves out of the wind. Our goal was Bullfrog Lakes, but it was soon apparent that we would not be camping where we had planned. It was a 1000 foot drop immediately after the gap and would have been another 1000 foot climb on a side trail to the lakes. We decided against the additional elevation and chose instead to follow the Little Kern River and into a stand of trees. There we found a few existing deserted campsites with windbreaks built from small rock walls. It was starting to get dark, so we quickly made dinner and set up camp.
No tent this year. We had a tarp in case of inclement weather, but our goal was to sleep out and under the stars as many nights as we could. The mosquitos we a bit buzzy, so Isabela slept under my A-16 Bug Bivy, one of my favorite pieces of gear.
Sleep came quickly to the noise of the rushing river just yards from our campsite. Isabela saw a deer come into our campsite in the middle of the night to see who was hanging out in it’s living room.
The next morning, after a breakfast of oatmeal and coffee for me (and a bean/cheese burrito for Isabela) we set off on our trail. In a very short time, it became apparent to us that the trail through the National Forest would indeed be difficult to follow. After only 20-30 minutes, the trail was completely taken over by pokey sharp brush concealing loose sliding shale. Soon we were at a place that we knew was a bit too high and would need to make our way down to the river for a crossing in the next mile or so.
We found what looked like the least steep and most do-able route. It wasn’t too tough for the first 20 feet or so, but for the next 150 feet down it was perilous. Isabela was a trouper. Brave and focused. The canyon wall was so steep and so loose that I instructed Isabela to give me her hiking poles and use her hands and legs to make her way down. With Isabela above me with both hands and feet dug into the shale, spider man style, and me below her we started to make our way down. Isabela was sliding quite a bit, so I started placing foot below her before she took each step to enable her to step down to my foot each time and give her a bit more tracking. It was slow going indeed.
This short section took over an hour. This would be a defining day for us as it would eventually set us almost exactly one full day behind.
After getting off the wall, we started following the river once again.
Cairns (piles of rocks that hikers build to help each other find and stay on the trail) dotted the trail for long enough to give us a false sense of security that following the overgrown trail would be possible. We followed the river and kept a keen eye out for carins that might show us the best place to cross. An hour in...there was no crossing. But we did come to a small clearing used as a campsite. We decided to take a break for some much needed rest, food and water.
Setting up one of my other favorite pieces of gear, my Alite Monarch Chair, we took a load off and refueled our bodies and minds. I’ve used my chair a lot in the last year but never with Isabela. I had no idea that sitting in the chair with her in my lap would work so well for both of us. Over the next few days we would find it to be a very symbiotic experience. It provided us both relaxing breaks, kept the mosquitos off of more of us than if walking, and the cuddling provided a sense of calm happiness. It was blissful.
After the rest, food and water, we set off once more still searching for where our trail would cross the river. In the end, we never found the correct place to cross. We hiked further than where the crossing should have been and finally just chose to cross. This was the second defining moment of our hike. This crossing would put us on the opposite side of another creek that we would need to cross minutes later. And this crossing would put us on the wrong side of the Wet Meadows Creek for the next two hours. These two hours were spent switchbacking up the side of a canyon wall knowing that we were in the wrong place but knowing that getting to the right place would be even more difficult.
Finally, after more than 120 minutes of slipping, sliding, scrambling, stepping over and under obstacles and lots of bushwhacking, we dropped down to the Wet Meadows Creek and sat down to talk. Luckily, Isabela was wearing long pants as my legs we cut, scraped and bleeding. We were tired and wanted to be done for the day. But, to be done meant getting water for the night and finding a flat spot to camp. Taking out my monocular, I spotted, what I thought was a cairn about 250 yards up on the other side of the creek. We decided to fill our waters and climb the opposite bank in search of a flat spot to camp and maybe….just maybe the trail.
After getting up and over the steepest part, I went ahead in search of somewhere to camp. After about 10 more minutes I found a decent spot. I dropped my pack and went back to get Isabela’s pack from her so she could walk the final stretch without the weight.
Once we got back to the spot I had found, it didn’t look quite as comfortable, so I told Isabela to wait with the gear as I explored a bit higher up the hill. The first 100 yards or so looked no more promising, but I pressed ahead a bit more. Just over another rise I found….the trail! And just beyond the trail was a much better camp spot.
I made my way back to Isabela and we moved our gear up the hill to the new spot. We were both wiped out by now. We ate, drank, set up camp, and collapsed. We were thankful we had found the trail for the next day, but had nothing left in our tanks to celebrate and fell asleep to a silent night filled with a few insects. It was much different feel than spending the night before next to a rushing river.
We awoke in the morning in much better physical and mental shape. I am always amazed at how quickly the human body can recover from merely being able to rest.
We knew that we only had about 3 miles of trail before getting back into the National Park and were encouraged that the trail would be easier to follow at that point. We were determined to stay on the National Forest Trail until then. We succeeded. The trail was very overgrown in parts and very steep in others, but after a little over an hour we crossed back into Sequoia National Park. It was a spectacular day. A slight breeze created a dance of delicate wildflowers and pine trees. It was truly a new day.
We hiked another couple hours to South Fork Meadows, the place we were supposed to be camped the night before, and found an absolutely peaceful place. A multicolored green meadow, that for a moment challenged the reality of California’s drought, spread out before us. Granite rocks and a large dead tree lying on its side decorated a meadow with a meandering stream right through the middle. Isabela dropped her pack and quickly found schools upon schools of Golden Trout dancing up and down the stream in perfect synchronicity. We had arrived.
We spread out our tarp, set up the chair, collected and purified water, and then began to nourish our bodies. Once revitalized, Isabela began some sketching and water color art while I set up the solar charger and relaxed a bit in the shade.
Over the next couple of hours, we just soaked up everything. Sometime in that block of time, three NPS trail workers on three horses and a mule came by and we greeted each other. Then, later, the same trail workers came back past us and asked if we would be staying through the weekend. When we answered that we would indeed still be in the backcountry, they mentioned approaching storms and warned us to be careful.
Earlier in the week, I had seen that the weather forecast called for rain on Saturday and Sunday. I didn't think much about it because we were completely prepared to both hike and camp in the rain. I was actually looking forward to some possible afternoon thunderstorms.
At about 4:00pm we set off again with the aim of getting to Hockett Meadows and making some decisions about the rest of our hike. I knew we were a day behind, and that there was a manned patrol station at Hockett. I figured we really needed to reevaluate the trip based on the last two difficult days and getting more information about the storm. The hike was mostly level and downhill a bit, and just as beautiful as the previous hours on the trail.
We arrived at Hockett at about 5:30 and wandered past the campsites with bear lockers and over to the Patrol Cabin. An older man was lowering the American Flag for the day as we walked up.
We spent the next 20 minutes or so talking to him. He had been stationed at this cabin for the past three weeks and hadn’t seen anyone else except us. He reiterated that this was a very unused section of SNP. After not seeing anyone ourselves for about 50 hours, except the NPS trail workers and himself, we understood the remoteness of this area and very much appreciated it.
He wrote some information about us in a small journal, told us he would be putting his horses out in the meadow in a while, informed us about the trail worker camp just through the trees and their horses and mules and then we talked about about the incoming storm.
He told us that the weather service was calling for the storm to hit Friday through Saturday and that it came from remnants of a monsoon. It was projected to be a very dry storm with little if any precipitation. He went on to tell us that the storm would include a lot of thunder and lightning strikes. I caught the look of surprise and a bit of fear from Isabela out of the corner of my eye and realized that she had no experience hiking in either of those conditions. I knew we would have to have a long talk.
And a long talk we had. We spent hours sitting in the meadow, making dinner, hydrating and talking about all of the options we had. We discussed literally all possibilities and tried to be very honest with each other about our thoughts. We both felt very strongly about trying to finish the planned loop, but both had different concerns about doing so. We went back and forth and finally settled on the fact we would take an alternate trail the next day and start to make our way back to the Ranger Station and car. It just made the most sense.
We fell asleep that night to again a much different atmosphere. The horses and mules in the field were all wearing bells. And all night long it sounded like Santa Claus was landing his sleigh out in Hockett Meadow. It was enchanting.
We woke the next morning with renewed purpose but also sadness that we were going to be cutting our trip short. We hopped onto the trail and started...up…? Up was puzzling since the Patrol Cabin ranger had told us that the trail back to Mineral King would be mostly flat and downhill. We crossed three bridges and continued up, up, and up.
After about an hour we came to a sign that informed us that we had taken a, “scenic detour” as we would call it for the rest of the trip, up an alternate trail and not in our planned direction. Our bubbles were popped...to say the least. We had finally come to a decision, acted on it, but gone two miles out of our way that we would have to walk back to start our day again.
We walked the 2 miles back to Hockett Meadows in complete silence. Each thinking it all through and trying to figure out what this “scenic detour” would mean to our day and our trip. The night before we had decided to head back towards the car knowing that it would be about 10 miles. We would sleep in, knowing that there was a good water source and camping spot halfway in at the five mile mark. Now that five mile mark would be the 7 mile mark and it would be about 14 miles back to the Ranger Station. Circumstances had changed yet once again.
Once back in Hockett Meadows we confirmed that we were indeed now on the correct trail. We hiked the two miles to where the trail would split and going right meant heading back to the car. At the split we sat once again to refuel our bodies and confirm with each other that we were still making the right decision. After a snack and a talk we decided that we would continue back towards the Ranger Station and get as far as we could today. We could camp at a creek in another 4ish miles or try to get back to the Ranger Station and car.
The 4 miles were enjoyable but in the last 10 minutes or so the heat sapped us both and when we arrived at Deer Creek we were in dire need of a rest.
After food, water, and rest we made the decision to try for the Ranger Station and car. In another 15 minutes or so we heard a chainsaw and knew that we were about to come upon the trail workers once more. As we rounded another bend they were just finishing the final cut or a huge log blocking the trail. We watched them all get behind the section of log and push as hard as they could. At first the log didn’t budge, and then slowly it started rolling. Then, it just took off downhill and with it the trail workers let out, what I can only imagine, is their ceremonial cheer each time this event takes place.
The horses and mule were tied up on the trail, so we walked below them on the trail (the respectful thing to do since pack animals get spooked by backpackers above them as they look much bigger.) After passing the animals we climbed back up to the trail and met the trail workers once again. We talked to them about the remainder of the trail to the Ranger Station, the storm, the remoteness of this area (they hadn’t seen anyone in 3 weeks either), and their jobs.
When we started walking again Isabela told me that she could see me doing that job :)
We knew that when we made it to the Ranger Station, it would still be another mile to the car. I was confident that I could get a ride from someone on the Mineral King Road or from someone in the adjacent campground. Our plan was to get the car, drive the 2 miles to Silver City (private cabins in the NP), take our 5$ showers there, maybe have some food, and then stay there if there was a room or drive the 25 mile windy road to Three Rivers and try to find a place to stay there.
In the next 4 miles we walked through a newly burned area which was completely devastated. The trees were gone or short pieces of standing charcoal and the ground was stipped of all vegitation. We could see what recent rains had already done to the weak hillside with nothing to hold it in place at all. As I mentioned to Isabela that this would be a very dangerous place to be in rain due to heavy mudslides, she suggested that we move along.
In another hour we came to the road and campground. The first thing we saw was a family with 3 young children and suddenly Isabela and I had a real spring in our steps. We hiked into the campground and past the family deciding not to interrupt their dinner to ask for a ride. Around another corner we walked towards an older couple out for a later afternoon stroll. When I asked how far it was to the Ranger Station, the woman made a face and said that it was a “good ways up the road.”
Isabela was disappointed. She had just walked 14 miles and we really thought she was done. With slumped shoulders, Isabela got onto Mineral King Road. The road took a turn about 25 yards ahead of us and as we made the turn we could see the Ranger Station. It was less than 100 yards from where we talked to the woman. We were reminded once again that distance is always relative.
We walked up the steps to the ranger station and Isabela sat on the same bench she and I had eaten lunch at a few days before. I took off my pack, emptied my pockets and got ready for my jog to the car. Isabela got some food and water out for her wait.
Starting on the road felt good without a pack. The road was going slightly uphill towards a bend and this pattern continued for almost 1.5 miles until I got to the car. It was a long and warm jog.
Upon reaching the car, I jumped in and made the quick drive back to Isabela. She hopped in and we drove the 10 minutes to Silver City.
We parked the car and headed into the General Store/Office. We were immediately greeted and asked if we needed some cold water. I think we looked tired. We purchased showers and inquired about lodging. We were pleasantly surprised to hear they had one cabin left. The “Hiker’s Hut.” The man told us 2 or 3 times that it was very small. When I asked him if the room was bigger than 2 Thermorest sleeping pads, he laughed and assured us that it was indeed. He asked if we needed to see it first and I laughed and told him we would take it.
We walked into the cabin and Isabela cheered. It had all the amenities we would need. Old rustic looks and smells. It had a double bed, a propane light, an oil lantern and a sink. We were in heaven.
We grabbed towels and headed to the shower houses. We both took long, hot, relaxing showers before meeting back at the cabin and then heading to the General Store’s restaurant for some grub.
Isabela had a burger, fries, slice of watermelon, and a lemonade. I had a grilled cheese sandwich with grilled onions and tomatoes, with watermelon, fries, tomato bisque soup and two mouthwatering beers. It was perfect. We sat across from a very nice older couple from Minnesota who was very impressed with the hike Isabela had just completed.
Isabela informed me while eating that she had seen that there was going to be a ranger talk at 8:00pm and sure enough, as we ordered our pie and ice cream the ranger showed up and set up his things.
The ranger, who was also coincidentally from Minnesota, was even more impressed with Isabela’s 40 mile loop. He knew of the difficulty of the terrain we had traveled and dotted on Isabela quite a bit. It was fun to watch her shine.
He gave his very interactive presentation and about 9:15pm we headed to bed. Falling asleep with the sound of the creek running behind our cabin was, yet again….wonderful.
We woke up the next morning, cleaned up, had a bit of breakfast and headed out. It was a fast 4.5 hour drive home.
This had been a very memorable trip and we both learned a lot. We had bit off a bit more than we could chew due to those first two really difficult days. We were reminded that having options and being very flexible with our plans was important. And Isabela reminded me that this place would be here and she was committed to coming back and hiking the other half with me.
And once again, we were both reminded of one of the most important sayings in backpacking….but also in life.
It’s not about the destination….it’s about the journey.
