View east along the Goddard Divide
This was a 6 day solo backpacking trip. It was a loop from the North Lake trailhead on Bishop Creek. I entered over Lamarck Col, explored the Evolution area, almost climbed Mount Goddard, got my first taste of the Sierra High Route, and exited over Piute Pass.
Written: October 22, 2019
I camped at the trailhead camp above North Lake in Bishop Creek. The way this is, you park your vehicle at the parking lot near the horse packing outfit, and hike the 0.7 miles of road to the camp area. There is no camping at the parking area and no way to drive to where you camp, but this is all fine. I set up my tent, used the bear proof food enclosure and went to sleep to the sound of the running water of Bishop Creek (North Fork). This camp is at an elevation of 9382, so a night sleeping here ought to be good for acclimatization.
In spite of this, I got off to a fairly lazy start. I got up, made breakfast, and hiked back to my truck to get something I forgot. It was cool and shady under the pines and a desert dweller like myself was glad to wait for some warmth and sunshine.
The start of the hike is through pleasant forest up towards Grass Lake. I never saw Grass Lake, though the trail junction near it was my first stop (a nice meadow area). After that it was up some switchbacks to Lower Lamarck Lake (10662), which is as beautiful as any spot you can imagine. I wonder what "Wonder Lakes" are like, given their name and the beauty of Lower Lamarck Lake. Someday I am going to take time and simply visit all the lakes in the Bishop Creek area.
From the lower lake, it is up the trail to where the trail fizzles out near Upper Lamarck Lake (10918). Upper Lamarck Lake is more austere and wedged into its own little niche. The route over Lamarck Col used to be (as near as I can tell) something resembling a maintained trail, but it has deteriorated into a backcountry route. I could see the trail switchbacking up the nose of a ridge to the south and just took off cross-country, but it almost certainly would have been more prudent to find and use the established route. The trail goes up and around the nose and then up a little hanging valley to a tiny lake southwest of Mount Lamarck.
The issue from there is the snowfield on the north side of Lamarck Col. I attacked it directly, clambering up through giant snowcups. A wiser pair of climbers came up at this time and bypassed the snowfield by climbing on the rock to the left (southeast) and then traversing to the Col. The Col itself has a fancy sign that lets you know that you are entering Kings Canyon National Park. The trail on the southwest side is a well defined set of switchbacks that lead down to the uppermost of the Darwin Lakes.
The descent to the uppermost of the Darwin Lakes was straightforward enough on a good trail. From there, the trail fizzles out, but I made my way to the third lake (lake 11623) where I made camp on a rocky peninsula above the lake. Once again, I get to hear the sound of running water as I go to sleep! The day began at elevation 9382, climbed to 12900 at the Col, and ended at 11650 where I camped.
I return to camp, pack up and work my way along the lakes. This is kind of a grim business with a heavy pack and no real trail in the talus along the lakes. The lakes are beautiful, and it is great to be always alongside water. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was suffering from some mild altitude sickness. I have a mild headache, poor appetite, and less energy than I might wish for. I have close views of the north side of Mount Darwin and Mendel (which are home to the most well known ice climbs in the High Sierra.) I make camp on Darwin Bench in the midst of the many small lakes there. I am amazed to find myself in the midst of a sudden brief snow flurry! I pitch the tent in a sheltered place between a big rock and a small tree and wander out to the edge of the bench to enjoy a stunning view south towards the Evolution Basin.
I continue along the Muir Trail to Sapphire Lake and make camp near the inlet stream above the lake. This is embarassingly little progress for a full day of hiking. I'll blame the heavy pack, but clearly I am not running on all my cylinders. It will be nice to make Sapphire Lake a sort of base camp and spend a day without the pack. I am glad to have "dumped" my heavy pack at Sapphire Lake and enjoy the freedom of traveling light and wander further on the JMT to take a look at gigantic Wanda Lake.
Up the Muir trail I go to a place near the outlet of Wanda Lake (an amazingly desolate body of water!) where I depart to the west to go across what looks (on the map) like a pleasant nearly level stroll into the basin to the west. Everything is boulders and talus though, so it is not easy walking as you might think looking at contours on the topo map.
Secor says:
Starrs Route, Class 2.I am skeptical about the Class 2 rating. The route seemed like pleasant class 3 to me. Secor says in his introduction, "Class 2 is defined here as difficult cross-country travel, usually talus hopping, which requires the occasional use of hands for balance."
This is an interesting route on an otherwise dull mountain. Climb the north ridge of Peak 13,040+ above Davis Lake. This is the first peak east of Mount Goddard along the Goddard Divide. The ridge becomes steep just below the crest; follow a ledge around the left side of the ridge to the top of the Goddard Divide. Ascend the tedious talus of the east slope to the summit of Mount Goddard.
Roper (in the little green "Climber's Guide to the High Sierra" says:
Northeast side, Class 2-3
From the basin southeast of Davis Lake climb onto the ridge between Peak 12,913 and the Goddard Divide. Climb this ridge or buttress until it becomes very steep and then head left on a ledge above a long, permanent snowfield. From the divide proceed west over talus to the top.
Roper also notes that a feasible route can be found up Mount Goddard from anywhere in the Ionian Basin.
The buttress looks impossible and the cliffs above are impressive. I have done things like this before, so I know to just keep pushing on and take each bit as it comes. The route has had enough traffic that there are boot prints here and there and signs of the passage of other people. I could take a dim view of this, but I don't. I am glad to have some confirmation of being on route since I am alone on a big mountain and three days hike from my vehicle. The route is much better than I expected. Finally, a long diagonal ledge leads left to the ridge crest, just about when the buttress above looks really impossible.
I followed the ledge to the top of the Goddard Divide, enjoyed the view, looked at my watch, looked at the "tedious talus" and decided that the fun was over. Going to the top would involve a several hour round trip that was not going to be "interesting" and would definitely put me back at my camp well after dark. So I decided the top of Goddard Divide would do for the day and headed back down. Depending which map you believe, I reached 13,000 feet and was 568 feet below the top.
I hike up the talus to the top of unnamed peak 13040+ The view is superb. I take plenty of photos (including some I intend to process into panoramas). It is a wonderful clear day. I am looking down into the Ionian Basin as though from an airplane with clear water and beautiful rock surrounding the lakes (the Ionian Basin is one of the most remote and inaccessible parts of the high sierra; perhaps someday I can manage a visit). The descent of the route I climbed is of some concern. It is easy to get off route, and someone like me with some rock climbing experience and skill gets continually tempted to just push things through rather than being diligent to find the easiest and third class route. I just keep reminding myself that I am all alone and the only people around are far away on the Muir trail. I am relieved to get off the semi-technical part of the route and onto mere talus slopes. I am glad for any walking on something like dirt or sand, and enjoy the extra stability of the derelict ski pole I use for a walking stick.
I get back down to Wanda Lake as shadow begins to darken the valley, and back to my camp, as predicted, just about at dark. I realize that I am going to have several pounds of food when I finally hike out. My appetite is not what it usually is, and the gorp I carefully mixed and prepared is just not what I want to eat. I hike back up to the Wanda Lake area to try to catch some fellows I chatted with, but don't locate them to give them the food. (some part of our conversation led me to believe they would appreciate it). Ultimately I end up hiking out with it.
Tomorrow I try offering some of my extra to some hikers on the Muir trail, who inform me that they are not interested
and burned several pounds of their own food the night before.
Hmmm.
I pack up, take sunrise pictures at Sapphire Lake and head down and around Evolution Lake. When the Muir trail clearly takes a turn and drops into the Evolution Valley, I begin contouring to the northwest. This proves to be tricky and arduous bushwhacking with the cliffy dropoff into Evolution Valley on my left and a granite nose obscured by forest on my right. I am never quite sure if I ought to be higher or lower, and wander from one granite bench to another. Things all work out and eventually I am up onto an open area heading for lake 11092. I make camp to the east of 11092 which is a large lonely expanse of water.
I enjoy my first view of Mount Humphreys, take some pictures and begin the descent. There is no ice or snow! It is a steep chute with dirt and rocks. The main concern is that I may get below some loose rock that will through some delayed action event tumble down on me from above. This never happens and before long the angle eases and I am able with care to cross some small patches of snow and work my way down to Wahoo Lakes. Now it is the never ending battle with obnoxious and seemingly endless talus.
Humphreys basin and the Desolation Lake area are a lot of wide open territory that looks inviting to wander around in. I now begin to aim towards Piute Pass, wandering near Lake 11183 and Muriel Lake. Lake 11183 would be pleasant to camp near with a lot of level terrain near the outlet. The wind and clouds lend a certain excitement to the day. I join the main trail near Piute Pass and experience for the first time on this trip the special ambience of horse droppings on the trail. I have had none of this on the Muir trail, and certainly none of it on my backcountry travels. Clearly Piute Pass and the North Fork of Bishop Creek are heavily used by the mule packers next to where my car is parked.
I keep moving, eager now to hike out and get to my truck. After 6 days, I am finally reasonably acclimatized and in decent shape, so I am finally moving along. (How can I beat this rap and be in great shape all through a trip?) I finish the hike in the forest in the lower parts of Bishop Creek in near darkness. The lakes I pass seem heavily used.
I drive to Bishop, get a burger with onion rings (which tastes like the best thing I have ever eaten). I try to find a motel room, wanting to get washed up before driving up to see my parents in Sparks, Nevada tomorrow. Every room in town is taken! Apparently late fall is the best fishing season of all. The volume of water in the lakes is low (as I had noticed), the fish are hungry, and insect life is scarce. I drive out of town north on US route 6 into Chalfant Valley, find a dirt road, set up my cot, and get a great nights sleep.
I will also note that carrying extra "just in case" is absurd nonsense. A person can easily go for a day or two without food in a pinch, and there is more to be gained by traveling light that by "being prepared". Carrying anything "just in case" is the enemy of lightweight backpacking. There are very few cases where it is justified.
This trip started with a 44 pound pack. I was carrying my Dana Designs Astralplane (which is 7 pounds empty). My little Sierra Designs tent is 4 pounds. I debated not carrying it, but in hinge season when a surprise storm is possible, it does make sense. Also at these elevations the extra warmth is appreciated. My sleeping bag (a 15 degree rated Marmot "Pinnacle") was an investment in ultralight gear just for this trip, and even in a tent, I was just barely warm enough some of the nights. This trip was the maiden voyage of my Jetboil stove (now a relic). Once again not a true ultralight article, but a significant improvement on the liquid fuel rig I used to carry.
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