Three years ago, I re-established contact with a friend of mine, Carlos Gonzalez, from my Costa Rica high school days. Back in the late '60's, we loved to find isolated and pristine spots in the Costa Rican countryside to appreciate nature. Over the years, Carlos has become an expert on Sierra Nevada topography and has gone there on annual backpacking trips. In 2006, Carlos invited me to join him on what would be my first backpacking experience. This year, I accompanied him again for an 11-day trip.

Intimidating first view of our destination

Abandoned tungsten mine
We arrived at our jump-off point, the trail head at Pine Creek Pass, just a few miles west of Bishop, California. We were short on sleep, having driven from Fresno through Yosemite National Park during the night to the east side of the Sierras. The trail started at an elevation of 7,400 feet, in a mixed forest of pine and aspen trees. Our goal for this first day was tough: 3.5 miles to the first established camp sites at lower Pine Lake with every step being a step upward! When we emerged above the dense forest, we passed the Pine Creek Tungsten Mine. Not so long ago this was the largest tungsten mine in America. During the Cold War this mine was heavily guarded to prevent possible sabotage. Today the mine lies silent, and there is talk of turning it into a museum.
The trail zigzagged ever higher above the mine. The afternoon grew hot with no cooling breeze. We were soon sweating under the load of our 70-pound packs! Late in the afternoon we saw a stream above us, cascading down from a higher plateau. The trail seemed headed there, hopefully to possible campsites. Wishful thinking. The trail stayed away from the stream and climbed above the possible camping area we had seen from below.

Our trail was a steep entry into the Sierras
By now we were both uncomfortable, feeling hot spots in our boots, and sweating profusely...this was supposed to be a vacation? We trudged our way upward, one step at a time. As the sun set, we still had not reached any possible camp sites. Just as darkness was falling, we found a flat spot under a pine tree, but only large enough to accommodate one of our tents. The cool of evening set in and our sweat transformed into a palpable layer of salt coating our bodies. There was no water at this site, washing was not possible. We crawled into our sleeping bags, exhausted and clammy.

The next day dawned clear and beautiful and it was not long before we were on the upward trail again. Carlos felt quite good having rested well, but Ted had slept poorly due to the high altitude. Our priority was to get to a proper camp site early, and wash! Around 10:30 AM we found a spot we could not resist. It was in a medium-density forest with plenty of running water close by with good spots for our tents. The highlight of the day was taking a full bath in the stream, and washing our clothing. The rest of the day was spent lounging around camp, reading and eating.

Fireweed gone to seed

Carlos carefully crossing a stream
Another sunny, "California Classic" day found us on the trail again. We passed beautiful Lower Pine Lake. Towering rock peaks revealed themselves as we hiked on. Around noon, we arrived at Upper Pine Lake. This spot was so incredibly beautiful...a perfect place for a camp site, even though this meant falling behind on our planned itinerary. The view was something out of a Tolkien tale: a large, deep blue lake, surrounded by golden meadows and a dense forest. We spent a very leisurely afternoon taking in the sights, keeping our eyes peeled for Hobbits.

Upper Pine Lake looking west from our campsite

Looking east, an unnamed striated mountain

A world of fractured granite

Looking south, another unnamed peak at sunset

Fall colors by the stream
We reluctantly broke camp and started hiking again. We had been following the Pine Creek Pass trail but now Carlos' itinerary called for us to go cross-country. Our destination, Golden Lake, was tucked away up on a high bluff. Our still-heavy packs made for tough going over boulders and through brush. We picked our way through the difficult terrain, trying to choose the paths of least resistance. Carlos, in charge of navigation, didn't disappoint. We eventually came across a small stream and followed it to its source, Golden Lake. This isolated site is rarely visited, we felt like we were discovering it for the first time. Ted wasted no time jumping into the water to wash off the grime of the trail.

Beautiful Golden Lake

Outlet stream from Golden Lake

Carlos in Wonderland
While camped at Golden Lake we would glance up every so often at the saddle looming above us, knowing we were going to have to tackle it the next day. It would be a tough climb with our heavy packs, scrambling over granite slabs and boulders. Once we got going, it took us three hours to reach the saddle. We took breaks every ten minutes to catch our breath. We thought the route would get easier on the other side of the saddle with Royce Lake just several hundred yards away...we would simply walk along the lake's edge to reach our next campsite. Instead, we were met by large boulders littering the landscape, blocking our way. We spent an hour cautiously checking our footing and balance while climbing over chunks of granite.

On our way over the saddle to Royce Lake

A picture-perfect morning at Royce Lake (note Ted's tiny shadow)

Merriam Peak

Our tents look like toys on the moon
We thought we were going to enjoy another beautiful day as we shouldered our packs and started on our way down to French Canyon. The weather soon changed. Within an hour, clouds moved in and a spritzing of rain turned to sleet. More dark clouds were heading fast in our direction. We were only a half-mile from where we started and now we were scrambling to set up our tents to stay dry. We hunkered down for the rest of the day, reading and snacking. Ted's camera, which had been acting strangely, now would not take a clear photo. The camera wasn't working properly for the next day's hike to French Canyon, and it still wasn't working when it was time to head back to Pine Creek Pass.

Ted's camera having technical difficulties

Carlos taking cover from the incoming squall
On our return to the trail head we camped once again at Upper Pine Lake. With one more day before we were scheduled to be back at the truck, we decided to hike to Bear Creek Spire without packs. This unusual, jagged peak called for a closer inspection. Hiking off-trail, we followed creeks, lakes and rock walls, making our way up to a saddle for a better view of the Spire. Carlos maintains that distances in the Sierras are deceiving, and after several hours of climbing, Bear Creek Spire still looked very far away. It was clear that we would not make it there in one day and headed back. The good news was that Ted's camera started working again.

Carlos taking a look at the sights

Elusive Bear Creek Spire

Reading at camp

Horse caravan delivering supplies to the Forest Service
Eleven days went by quickly. It took eight hours to hike back to the truck which gave us time to reflect on the trip. The pain of carrying heavy packs was offset by our ability to set up and relax in our campsites comfortably. We had plenty of room in our own tents and enough food for three meals a day plus snacks. Even though we didn't complete Carlos' dream itinerary, we were able to reach and then enjoy a variety of terrain and campsites.

When we reached the truck we drove north to cross Yosemite National Park once again. It was sunset as we exited the highway at Mammoth Lakes, the nearby Minaret Mountains silhouetted by a deep red sky. A breathtaking sight. We stopped at McDonald's to quench our craving for junk food: cheeseburgers, fries and ice-cold sodas. It seemed like heaven on earth after eating freeze-dried meals for days on end!

A week later, near the Minaret Mountains, a hiker found Steve Fossett's identification and a subsequent search found the wreckage of his airplane.

Last look at Lower Pine Lake on our way down to the truck
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