4 States in 6 Days with Our New Cattle Dog

Coco the wonder runt cattle dog

Overview

Our usual pattern for vacations was to head up 395 and camp somewhere close to the Eastern Sierra. In past few years the summer season has been very crowded and we wanted to find some new places in our 20 foot RV, keep social distancing, and use secondary roads for less stress while driving.

We became adoptive parents of CoCo, wonder runt cattle dog at just about the start of the virus lock down. She made the stay at home mandate easier to take and we began a mutual attachment relationship amid the boredom of the groundhog day repetition that all of us have learned to live with. When her shots were up to date and immunity intact, we were anxious for a road trip. Usually we go to Baja Sur, but their virus problems and the new dog put the nix on that destination.

We decided to see America first, even though the virus was peaking in a few of our favorite states. The plan would involve visiting Kathy's parents in Kingman, Arizona, heading north of Flagstaff to the Sunset Crater National Monument, on through Navajo country to just north of Page, Arizona to Lone Rock at Lake Powell, through Utah to Cedar Breaks National Park and then to Lincoln County in Nevada. We made no reservations and would be using our 20 year old Wilderness 20 foot RV, which has less than 50K miles on the odometer. After Lincoln County the details were more vague, with a possible link to the Eastern Sierra from highway 6, out of Ely, Nevada.

First Day

Kathy's parents moved from San Diego to Kingman about 25 years ago for the excellent hunting and fishing in the vicinity. It had been many months since we last visited because of the virus. We backed the RV onto their large cement slab, which provided a nice blend of closeness and our own space. Kathy was concerned about social distancing so we agreed to visit outside on their patio. It was a beautiful late afternoon when we arrived and caught up on all the recent family news without getting into any pesky political topics. We ate separately and talked well into the night. The next morning we said our goodbyes over coffee and hit the road.

Kathy's mother Nancy "Nanny" and Clyde 

Second and Third Day

It had been near 100 degrees in the desert the day before, so we were glad to experience the high mountain rolling hills leading to Flagstaff on highway 40. Being used to the 395 congestion provided quite a contrast to the miles and miles of juniper groves and broad expanses of valleys with golden acres of flat grazing area without many bovines or signs of human activity.

It was paradise lost as we attempted to take 89 north through Flagstaff. The town has grown exponentially and let us just say that development planning was not a strong suit for the city fathers of this fair city. There was some snow left on the higher peaks and we were hopeful that our Monday morning arrival would give us some luck in finding a place in the campground just at the entrance to the Sunset Crater National Monument. Lucky campsite 9 became our new abode and the Golden Age Pass got us a $13 rate. Decided to pay for two nights and slow down the pace of time's passing.

View of campsite 9 from our screen door

I would rate this campground at near 5 star. Pleasant hosts, clean restrooms with a big jug of hand sanitizer out front, spacious and well spaced campsites that insure social distancing. The mostly Arizona campers were friendly without being too nosy, kept control of their dogs and kept any domestic disputes indoors. For most of our stay, the weather was cool with wind that was quite strong in the pine forest. The floor around the monument was between pumice, volcanic pebbles and fine black dust.

Coco's first hike

The next morning we took our first hike with Coco along a trail that went to the crater parking lot, about 1.5 miles. The hiking was a bit more difficult than hiking on soft sand. It ended at a fenced sign reading "no dogs". It was a beautiful hike with moss on the volcanic boulders and shady from the pines. The hiking surface I would rate as less than two stars. There were no trails like the ones in San Diego or the Sierras. The next morning we rose early and headed for Navajo country to the north.

Fourth Day

The lower altitude portions of the Navajo country are much as Tony Hillerman describes it, with poor vegetation only suitable for goat herders. The homes are a montage of trailers, traditional hogans, non traditional hogans with rectangular additions, and cars in various states of functionality. The road has numerous rough structures at any wide point, where Navajo jewelry is sold.  As the elevation increases, there is not only the eye popping beauty of the marbled red rock but also enough vegetation to have cattle and horses wandering around in bucolic splendor. The rez has been hard hit by the virus and the FM radio stations give the numbers on the various tribal areas. It does not sound good.

As we get to Page, Kathy goes into the Safeway for some potatoes and wine. She reported that all the employees were native american and that they were doing the good social distance and masking. The tourists not so much. While she was gone, a middle aged, handsome man approached the RV. He appeared Navajo and did not look intoxicated in any way. I told him that I was paranoid of the virus and didn't want contact. He had kind eyes, looked intelligent and gracefully acceded to my request. In retrospect I wish that my solution would have been quicker and just gave a few bucks out of the window crack at the top. Oh well, will get it right next time or in another life.

Lone Rock and the shore of Lake Powell

We get to the turn off for the Lone Rock state park and are impressed with the view of Lake Powell.We passed the Glen Canyon Dam just prior to the turnoff. It was hard not to think of Edward Abbey's books on the destruction of Glen Canyon that was necessary to create Lake Powell. The lake is quite shallow so the evaporation water loss is considerable. Also, the cultural artifacts and rock art of Glenn Canyon were forever lost by this flooding. The water's edge is filled with RVs, tents, cars and people. It is about 95 degrees, so it all looks inviting, even if not politically correct.

From the pavement, there are 10 or 15 possible dirt/sand access roads. I pick one that looks pretty good and keep up the momentum through the sandy parts. Once I let off on the gas briefly and could feel the vehicle sinking fast. Gassed it again and got through. I had read some reviews about people getting stuck, but surely that wouldn't happen to me. By the time we found a high camping spot away from the crowd, Kathy was thinking we should try to get out. My take was that it was the middle of the day and if we were to get stuck, the 90 plus degree heat could cook my 76 year old corporal container.

Instead, we decided to hike all the sandy trails and decide on the best one for tomorrow morning. Kathy hiked in flip flops but after three decades of marriage I have learned at least part of the time to keep my mouth shut. After about a 45 minute extreme exercise component, we decided that there were no slam dunk exits, though some were certainly worse than others.The rest of the day was spent drowning our troubles and watching people get stuck going downhill, uphill and sideways. The most comical was a Prius potential grand prix racer, who detached his rear bumper except for a few bolts that allowed him to drag the bumper until he almost reached the water.

The sky and sun took an eerie glow from the dust and smoke

I talked to our neighbors, who looked like they might know what they were doing, about the best exit road. We walked that one before nightfall and decided to call it a day. By this time the smoke from the North Rim fire was pretty thick and the dust had begun to blow in earnest. At that point, the fire had consumed 85,000 acres. We went to bed and Kathy reported in the morning that she had been too anxious to sleep.

Day Five

At daybreak, I warmed up the engine, took it out of overdrive and into 2nd gear. We got a good running start on the first sand section and began getting thrown from one side to the other while bouncing on the woop dee dos. It was very exciting and I was hoping that the vehicle wouldn't break somewhere. The second bad section was almost to the road and the speed kept us on top of the sand well enough. We were very happy to bid Lone Rock goodbye and celebrated by dumping the bad stuff and taking on some cool, clear water.

We continued on 98 up into Utah, turning back toward Cedar City on 14. Cedar Breaks National Monument was our destination. We called about campsites, but the virus made it almost impossible to get a current status. We passed through some of the most beautiful, lush farmland and tourist services in the narrow valley from Mt. Carmel northward to 14. As we gained altitude from the turnoff, the landscape became dominated by lava flows with intermittent large grassy meadows. As we got to Cedar Breaks, the high altitude provided cool breezes. At the park entrance, Kathy noted that Coco had a slight limp. At Lone Rock I remembered her yelping at some point. Bad omen. Equally bad was the fact that the campground was still closed, with some snow patches.

Descended through Cedar City and out toward 56 westward toward Cathedral Gorge. Flat grassland meadows with depressing looking residences and trailers at about 4000 ft elevation. At the the Cathedral Gorge campground in Lincoln County we found a small, claustrophobic setup where every other camp was closed off with wooden poles. No room at the inn.

BLM campsite well south of Ely, Nevada

note the metal, high shade and cement table

Beautiful views to the east

Continued on 93 to a BLM ohv camp on a dirt road. We were overjoyed to see an excellent trail head setup with two sites that fit our needs. It was a no fee campground. There were three other rigs, but everyone was quiet and it had beautiful views. When Coco got out of the RV, her foot had gotten worse and she was putting no weight on it. I spent a beautiful hour doing yoga on the concrete dining table while Kathy and Coco called it a day. The next day we agreed to head for home to make things easier on Coco, taking a shortcut to 15, through Las Vegas and more or less retracing our route home on 95. We stopped at Palo Verde, but the 102 degree temperature was daunting, so finished the trip off with a 12 hour day to highway 8 and home, safe and sound. The vet bill the next day was $500, but Coco is doing much better after four days at home. The trip was a great change from being stuck at home for three months!


Lessons Learned

The use of secondary roads made the driving much easier and for the most part the traffic was quite light. In the future, would return to Lincoln County (south of Ely) via a more direct route through Las Vegas. The area north of Flagstaff is nice, but the hiking is quite limited. Lake Powell and Cedar Breaks were not places of solitude and the latter is probably better served in the winter on cross country skis, which we have done many times out of Brianhead. We liked the area south of Ely and it looks like a good summer destination because of the generally high altitude, which keeps it cool in the shade and warm in the sun. Oh yeah, I have decided not to wear my size 13 shoes in the motor home, to safeguard Coco's little toes.

67 miles on the John Muir Trail with my brother Marty and wife Kathy

Jerry Damschen's 80th birthday party was the evening before we left for our grand adventure in the high Sierra. For whatever stupid reason or perhaps anxiety about the coming challenge, I continued the party at home until late in the night. Predictably, I awoke with stomach problems and we had regular stops going up 395 to get to Lone Pine to pick up the permit. My brother met us there and we dropped his car off at the trail head for Sawmill Pass, a little north of Independence. Imodium became my drug of choice on the way and I was still always happy for a rest stop.

We got to the Cold Water campground around 3 and began cleaning up the car to make it bear safe at the backpacker parking. We decided to jump the permit a bit to get away from the throng of summer vacationers. By nightfall we were a couple of miles up the trail and had the tents pitched. The Subway sandwich shop in Mammoth had quality issues and we ended up burying it like going number 2 in the wilderness, 6 to 8 inches deep. I ate another two Imodium for good luck and hit the sack.

The next day provided the Groundhog Day rhythm of the 8 day trip. Up at 5 AM, pack the tent, get the Laura Bar breakfast and small bag of Smart and Final granola mix out of the bear canister (required on the John Muir Trail), take my meds, repack everything into the backpack and hit the trail at about 6 AM.

It was kind of a suffer fest, just what I expected and deserved. We don't train with weight beforehand on backpacks, just saddle up and take a beating for the first few days. Kathy and Marty seemed much stronger than me and that was a bit disappointing. I was feeling a little down and thinking that maybe the John was going to be the weak link on this one. Was wearing mechanic light weight gloves to minimize the bruising that plagues the older guy taking blood thinner and statins. Whatever.

Kathy and Marty headed up to Duck Pass (click to enlarge)

By the time we made it to Duck Pass, I felt pretty wasted. We kept going for another few hours and had lunch of flour tortillas (do these things ever go bad?), salami, one slice of cheese and mustard. Immediately I felt less dizzy and disoriented. The mosquitoes were terrible, but that's what Jungle Juice is for (96% deet and toxic). Off and running again and had a nice hello with three Latinas from Mexico before heading up towards Virginia Lake. The drill on the JMT is to do a pass, hike down into some canyon or other and position your party for the next pass. Marty has done the JMT 3 or 4 times and can read maps well, so he is the boss man. I'm feeling really tired.

Second night, I found the camp. It was so close to the trail that we heard the campers going by until 7 or 8 that night. Kathy is very strong and taking Zquil at night, so sleeping like a (baby, no race horse). I'm just hanging on and trying to breathe through the night. Thinking that 11 or 12 days of this and I may be meeting my maker. I guess this is a good place to die, but don't really want to for 100 years or so. That would make me the oldest guy on earth at 174.

The next day is to be a big one. We are to do Silver Pass (10.7K feet elevation). Marty is a little slow today, don't know why. He has a funny look on his face when we do a creek crossing, but I'm too concerned about myself to ask him what's going on. The mosquitoes have reached a new level of hatching and most hikers are in long pants and head nests. I chicken out and change into my water shoes to do a crossing, as the water is high on most creeks and the risk of a water fall makes me a little conservative. It takes me 10 to 12 minutes to change out of my shoes and socks, get them on the pack and use my Crocks to cross. Kathy is much better and quick handed manual stuff and is probably at about 5 minutes. Marty and I look at each other but selfishly I just want to get away from the 100 or so mosquitoes that are loving me to death.

Kathy at Silver Pass

At the summit of Silver Pass we have a lunch break, but quickly finish our meal and are on our way because the sun is so intense and there is no shade. Further down on the south side, we find a tree which provides some respite. Marty works on his heels, and I see why he has been preoccupied. His heels are beyond blisters and are now raw flesh. When we are leaving, Kathy asks me in private whether she should offer him the option of going back. I agree and she went back to talk. He decides to continue and I am secretly happy with that decision because the way back seems so difficult that my confidence in getting back is not high.

Beauty and Beauty

The John Muir trail was started in 1914 and completed in 1938. John Muir, first president of the Sierra club, proposed the trail to the state legislature initially. The reason for this span of time was the amount of blasting that had to be done to carve a trail out of near vertical rock. The latter part of the day we saw why it took so long. But first, as we were proceeding to what Marty called a parachute drop, I slipped on a creek crossing and fell on a downed tree trunk. The under side of my arm was bleeding pretty good. There were as many flies on this trip as mosquitoes and they quickly started feeding. Kathy wrapped the gash with a bandanna and this solved the problem. We began dropping down a trail literally carved out of rock. It was steep and had big step downs similar to the route to Whitney. As usual, we wanted to get close to Tully's Hole to get a good jump on Bear Valley Ridge. This strategy is used to avoid being out of light at a high point where weather might come into play.

At 8400 feet elevation we finally found a campsite close to water and pitched camp after a 11 hour day of hiking. We are all using two poles, which reduces the stress on the knees by 30%. However, my right hand is getting overused with the poling, packing and assorted buckling. It starts to freeze in odd positions with fingers pointing every which way and won't cooperate with my conscious control for minutes at a time. We are in the middle of nowhere and this trip is starting to spook me. Kathy suggests that I just use my left pole tomorrow and as usual her advice lets me relax a bit.

Bear Valley Ridge flowers

The next day we proceed down toward Tully's Hole and as we get closer, the mosquitoes become relentless. We all are happy when we hit the switch backs on Bear Valley Ridge. It will gain 1900 feet in 2.5 miles, but the flowers and ferns are a wonderment. Marty is slow due to the pain with his heels and Kathy is strong as ever. We regroup at an overlook of the valley that leads to Sheldon Pass. We meet a man and his son from Minnesota. He says that the mosquitoes in the valley are much worse that anything in his home state! Oh boy, can't wait. We want to get as far as possible to not get stuck on the high part of the pass tomorrow night. Finally, we find a campsite right next to the roaring creek and enjoy some rest.

Tame Deer enjoying a snack

The water is very high through the valley and the next day we are in the business of water crossings, feeding mosquitoes and swatting flies. Marty confided at a later point that on that day he began to regret that we had not turned around at Silver. He brought up the possibility of a early termination of the trip and an exit over Piute Pass. I loved the idea.

It's always nice to get to camp

 The upper reaches of Sheldon were spectacular. In meeting the people sharing the trail with us, it became obvious that the composition of the hikers was at least 50% from other countries. Mexicans, Spanish, Germans, English, Aussies and Scandanavian were all represented. Many groups of young women and single women were also on the trail. The 220 miles of the JMT are unique in that the wilderness is not crossed by roads of any kind and the only signs of civilization are the jets that occasionally fly overhead.

Obligatory reflection below Sheldon

Marty near the top of Sheldon Pass with forever to the north

 On the pass the clouds are getting darker and look very threatening. Kathy asks me if it is safe for us to be on this exposed spot and I reply "probably not". We decide to try to take the first campsite we can find. At the second lake down we just beat a couple of people and start putting up the tent. The other people come and camp close to us. They are the same ones from Alabama that got close at the last campsite. We laugh about it and are in good spirits as Marty gets to camp and it starts to rain gently. Afternoon thunderstorms are the rule in the high Sierra and it is usually no big deal. We are at 10.2K however and I don't have a warm fuzzy about being this high in possible weather.

The calm before the storm

After a few hours of rain and some thunder we have a break and get some dinner. At about one hour, the sky turns dark again and it starts to rain and blow in earnest. For the next 6 hours we witnessed one of the most violent storms that I have experienced at altitude. The 15 year old Sierra Designs tent is a bit tall for a good mountain tent, which creates a sail area in strong winds. The pole structure is strong and well designed however. The first four hours had both strong rain and gusts over 50 mph. The sides of the tent were hitting us in the face if we sat up. The thunder was impressive in loudness, but there were no lightning strikes close to us. A little moisture would occasionally get through the weather proofing, but all in all the tent held up well. It was a scary experience and no sleep was possible. Finally, the winds abated and we slept deeply with relief.

The next day we hiked to the Muir Trail Ranch, picked up Marty's food supply 5 gallon bucket and took just enough to get us over Piute Pass. The ranch packs supply buckets by horseback from the western flank of the Sierra for $80. If you don't pick up your bucket, they will mail it back to your, which Kathy and I elected to do. We then proceeded to the Piute Creek bridge (elevation 8200 ft), where we camped in a nice clearing, surrounded by healthy Manzanita bushes. The Piute Creek was raging and loud, but there were virtually no bugs and we enjoyed some shade and rest. Our mood was good and Marty was able to text his wife Leslie and son Colin to arrange for a pickup at North Lake on Sunday, two days from now by using his In Reach sat system.

On the Piute Creek bridge

The trail in the lower reaches of Piute Canyon gains altitude by using the high step up construction, which is quite exhausting but gains a lot of altitude quickly. Kathy again displays her superior aerobic fitness and I don't see her for an hour or two. We will gain 1800 foot today and using some tired legs to do so. After Hutchinson Meadow, the amount of water across the trail is more than I have ever seen in the 25 years of going there. The snow pack was only 40% of normal, but all this runoff is coming from where? It reminds me of some years in the Anza Borrego desert, when creeks flood in what the stats show as so so rain winters. There are so many creeks crossing the trail after Hutchinson that the trail is easily lost. Once again, the bugs are very happy. We finally reach our usual campsite at 10,000 ft. It is into the tents and read the kindle time because the flies and mosquitoes are dense. Luckily I have a great book: "The Evolution of Beauty - How Darwin's Forgotten Theory of Mate Choice Shapes the Animal World- and Us" by Richard o. Prum. The bugs are so bad by dinner time that Kathy elects to skip dinner.

Marty is one tough hombre

Kathy always says that I'm too competitive and maybe that's true. But I do sense opportunity when it arises. Kathy had no dinner last night, but I ate a big one, freeze dried beef stroganoff  and bugs. This could be my chance to be the first to Piute Pass and some redemption. I pace her at the start but hang back a little. We have about 1500 ft elevation gain to the pass, no need to burn out early. Finally, my time comes and I start the engine. Towards the cresting of the switchbacks there is a point where you can see the pass and the trail gets easier after a water crossing. Near the top I stop to dig a hole and have a bathroom break. As I get to the water crossing to my dismay I see Kathy putting on her shoes on the other side. Damn! My slow change to water shoes will not do now. I take my chances on a poor rock placement and slip to a full submerge and hit something along the way.

I am completely soaked. Kathy offers a hand to get me out. Double damn. I change and wait for Marty, the race is officially over. I put the wet stuff in a sack and stop to take a pee. Unfortunately, I am peeing blood. Kathy consults Marty, who is a retired ICU nurse supervisor. He says force water to avoid a clot that could stop up the water works. I am feeling a bit tired and woozy but start powering the water and Kathy helps me keep the water bottle full. By the time we get to North Lake I have drunk about 3 or 4 quarts and am peeing clear. Whatever happened fixed itself.

It was great to see Leslie at North Lake and get in a car to go to the Best Western in Bishop. After checking in Kathy and I borrowed the car to get our truck at the Cold Water campground in Mammoth. Upon return, we had a shower and shared some good times with Marty, Leslie and Colin in their room. We then celebrated Colin's entrance to a Singapore University MBA program at the Whiskey Creek Inn in Bishop that evening. One of my best trips ever.

Coyote Mountain and Christmas in Anza Borrego

Coyote Mountain from the South

(click on photo to enlarge, exit back with x in top right )

We had planned a quick 4 day vacation in Borrego Springs when Kathy was working close to full time as giving child care to our grandson Zack. The money was paid for the campground and we were going to use our mini ten foot Carson trailer, while Zack was visiting the other grandparents in the Bay area.

Looking for fun things to do in the San Diego area, Afra had invited me to hike with some non Sierra Club groups with similar interests and no worries about rules and regulations. The go to book for these outing is "Hiking in Anza-Borrego Desert Vol 1 and 2" by Robin Halford. A few weeks ago one group did the Vista del Malpais hike and I really liked the loose format and low key people who were at the same time very competent.

Walking the rim of the badlands near Font's Point

The second group that Afra hikes with does a monthly hike. My first one with them was one of Halford's called Paul's Playa. It was also a great hike but taking a steep approach to the bumps in front of Coyote Mountain (from the Pegleg Mounument on the South side). It was a hard hike of about 6 hours. Jim had left a few hours early and was going to also climb Coyote. We waited for him at a high point rather late in the day, so the peak was not an option for the rest of us. I was a little disappointed, but it had been raining a bit and by the time we got back I knew it was the right decision. 

When we reached the campground, Kathy said she wanted to do something hard, like Villager.  I suggested that we do Coyote Mountain, from Rockhouse Road by the Clark's Dry Lake on the East side of the mountain. Although short (5.6 miles round trip) it is rated very strenuous by Halford. Since Paul's Playa was rated strenuous, I knew this was going to be a challenge. There was little surprise on my part when Kathy was all for it.  It was in the mid thirties that night, so we left a little after 8 and left the truck about 9. 

Through the flood plain to the start of the ridge network

We had a few false starts until the All Trails app helped us get on the right ridge. It is further North than your instincts might discern. Kathy and I have had practice at heated discussions and there was no way I was going to be too assertive and be headed back to camp early.

On the ridge at last and getting somewhere

The going was hardest at the beginning and toward the top

Kathy and I had started this hike with minor foot problems. I was recovering from a stone bruise on my heel from the Paul's Playa hike and Kathy had a toenail that was digging into her toe. As the day progressed, the rough terrain began to play on these weaknesses. The false summits were a bit hard on the optimism that we shared. The only thing that kept me going was I knew that there was way too much investment to turn around. It was not a safety issue on the foot problems for me, just a strong desire to make to the top and get going back down. We were probably hungry, it had been long time since breakfast. We shared a Laura Bar and kept putting one foot in front of the other. The top section  has a lot of chollas and the wind has done a good job of littering the surfaced with the little buggers.  The route going up is hard to see because of the steepness of the terrain. 

Finally, we reached the summit plateau. The view towards the badlands with Clark Lake in foreground

Kathy on top, looking a little more towards the South

We signed the register book and had a nice lunch. The whole hike was unusual in that the wind never picked up and the temperature never reached 70. A perfect day for an adventure where we weren't sure of a positive outcome.  On way down it was much easier to see a defined use trail, a bit more to the North from how we came up. The down climb was much easier than expected on the slippery small scree like conditions when using a side step. However, the new Montrail trail runners I got to overcome last week's heel problems still seem a little too lightweight. They work great in the Sierra on real trails, but in the point to point steep desert conditions, not so much. By the time we got back to the truck, my heel bruise was much worse, but we had plenty of medicine back at the trailer to make things right.

Stats: 2600 feet elevation gain and 5.6 miles round trip

rated very strenuous by Robin Halford

We rode bikes the next day on the Peg Leg loop and admired Anza's Angel on our now favorite mountain. By coincidence, we were riding on December 24, the same day in 1775 that the "angel" was seen and supposedly used to find the way to the coast. More likely they used a Native American to guide them as they were quite familiar with the route.The following day I rode my bike again because of hobble issues and Kathy hiked the Palm Canyon. No mountain sheep sited, just foreign tourists.

Three Passes in 3 days and the Sky Rock

Kathy had a reminder from two years ago on a post that I did on Bow Willow, a favorite camping place in the Anza Borrego desert. She gently spoke of my writer's block since then. Actually, it wasn't my last post. I did one on Denny, which was used as the eulogy at his funeral. Kathy thinks my concern with Denny's loss ( and Jon not too long before) was more to do with my own concerns with mortality and there is probably some truth to that. In any case, our recent trip to the Eastern Sierra seems like a good topic to get back on the horse and get on with things. Winter is coming.

We were staying at the Elm's Motel in Bishop. It is off the main street and next to a park, very quiet but a bit dated. Each day we would partake of the Spartan continental breakfast early and get a good start on the day's hike. The first pass would be the hardest, Bishop Pass. It usually is a menage of hikers, climbers, fisher folk and others that resist easy classification. The late November uncertain and colder weather thins out the crowd, so it was a perfect clear day which provided the stage for our adventure. At the parking lot the temperature was 30 degrees and we were the only car in the lot. I was thinking that maybe the locals knew something we didn't, but we packed up and headed up the trail.

  View from tarn towards Bishop Pass

South Lake is full, whereas last year the water didn't even reach the dam. It was a great water year for the Sierra. As we hiked in the shadows it was cold, but felt perfect in the early morning sun. It feels so good to be doing something with Kathy that we both enjoy. She has been on an extreme child care schedule, rising at 4 am and getting home at  7 pm. Tyler's mother is visiting this week and so we are free! There are no people ahead of us and I am starting to get acclimated to the altitude and beauty.

My favorite hiking companion

There are a lot of "step up" rocks on the Bishop Pass trail. With a full snow load, route finding is an issue. Today, there are patches of snow, but mostly the trail is bare. The cool weather allows us to make good time and Kathy is very fast and strong. At about 10,500 feet, I am starting to get stronger. In years past, things were different. Like many other facets of life, looking too much in the rear view doesn't help.

   Long Lake toward Bishop Pass

  Looking back toward South Lake

At about the four hour mark it was obvious that the summit block had snow. The trail has been expertly laid out and somehow the drifts never quite cover the short switchbacks that make the difference between easy hiking and something more serious. There is plenty of exposure and with careful footwork the patches of ice can be avoided. It's windy going up the head wall, so we stop in a protected place to eat lunch. It turns out it was less windy on top at the pass, where there were a couple of snow fields to be negotiated. After the obligatory summit photos, we head back down. The views are very spectacular on the way down and we are very happy with having made the hardest pass on the first day.

   Kathy almost at Bishop Pass

We remind each other to be careful on the down steps, as we haven't seen anyone on the trail and a turned ankle or some other lack of concentration would be a bad thing. Cell phones don't work up here and so you can't call your way out of a mistake. At the eight hour point we have made it back to the car without having seen anyone else on the hike. What a gift and adventure.


It's nice getting back to a motel room with a nice heater. Also, in a change of season trip the extra room from our bare bones trailer is much appreciated. We have room to keep the packs pretty much out of the way and ready to go for the next day. It's also a treat to get some Pollo Loco salads for dinner and enjoy some wine while talking back to the TV news.

Our second hike is an easy one to Morgan Pass. It is in the Rock Creek Canyon, also known as Little Lakes Valley. The parking lot is at 10,000 feet and the trail roughly follows the series of lakes that lead up the top lake (Chickenfoot) and then to the pass. Because the trail has numerous water crossing, it is a big help to have most of it free of snow. The parking lot was again 30 degrees, but the trail can feel colder because of the proximity of water.

       At Long Lake with Morgan Pass off to left of frame

I had bought some Bandini gloves, made for the cold Laguna mountain bike rides. I saw that Kathy had some lighter weight gloves, so decided to man up and use a similar pair. Within twenty minutes this decision seemed foolish as my hands were aching. Note to self: Kathy is 15 years younger and has better circulation in the extremities. Next time, be smarter about taking the right gloves. Being in the Sierra above 10,000 feet slows down the efficiency of the central nervous system and one needs to deal with the reality rather than how you feel things should be.

            Looking back toward Little Lakes Valley almost to Morgan Pass

Once we get out of the shade and the sun starts to creep above the mountain scarp, we start taking off layers and enjoying the fantastic views. Because we didn't get in a Sierra backpack this year, it is great to be making good time and not really having any significant issues. We have microspikes in the pack, but after yesterday I don't think that they are going to be necessary. The patches of ice are small and by good footwork can be avoided. Little Lakes Valley is a hike that anyone can enjoy with reasonable care because the trail is obvious when not covered in snow and the elevation gain is very gradual. Consequently, it is one of the most used areas in the Southern Sierra.

    Mount Morgan from the pass

Morgan Pass is free of snow and we enjoy a nice lunch there. The down hike is much easier and faster than Bishop Pass because there is more of a gradual descent and less rock steps. This is a great cross country ski basin and they have a California Snow Park area at the bottom of the steep hill that leads up to Mosquito Flats, where our truck was parked. This means that with a $30 yearly pass, you are assured of a plowed road to that point. When there is no snow, you don't need a pass. It is more dangerous in the spring, when the solid winter pack starts to degrade and you can break through into a stream or lake. In the winter, you should check the avalanche forecast as in certain places the sides of the canyon are quite steep. The Rock Creek Winter Lodge is a few miles below Mosquito Flats and offers rustic cabins and great food.

Kathy's toes are starting to get a little worse for wear, but we want to do Mono Pass. The ranger didn't know the present conditions, but we can always turn back if things look dicey. I did Mono with a full snow load with my brother Marty on skis, but that was almost a lifetime ago. There is some beautiful above timberline scenery and looking forward to this adventure which is probably in between Bishop and Morgan Pass in difficulty.

     Kathy looking toward Morgan Pass from Mono trail

We leave the parking lot with the temperature again stuck at 30 degrees. I've got my heavy gloves on and after a mile or so we head off to the right at the Mono Pass signed trail. It is very south facing and becomes too warm very quickly. As we shed clothes and gain altitude, the whole basin comes into view and it is spectacular. The trail is the best of the week, with a nice, soft sand component that although steep, is never scary. Ruby lake, a favorite for back country skiers, comes into view beneath us and the long switchbacks get more steep.

     Above Ruby Lake on Mono Pass trail

 

Mono Pass

Finally, we get into the summit canyon and begin to pick our way through steep rock and giant boulders. It's a fun hike and we haven't had to deal with any snow or ice to this point. It looks like there will be some snow to negotiate at the pass proper, but even this is not necessary as there are many paths to the side of the blockage. No question we are at altitude as the place looks like a scene from some SF movie. As we get a little beyond the pass, Summit Lake comes into view. We decide to save looking down Pioneer Basin (which leads to the John Muir Trail) for our hike next year. On the way down the views are even better. It has been a great day.

          Summit Lake above the pass

   Kathy headed back to the truck

We have been trying to find Sky Rock, a native american petroglyph which is in a volcanic bluff section above the Owens River. We park the truck in a small turnout and gain the three or four hundred vertical to the site of a rather large collection of gigantic volcanic boulders. It probably stretches for close to a half mile, so just getting here is not finding the rock art. I work my way through a weakness in the bluff, but have really only succeeded in making communication with Kathy very difficult. She, on the other hand, it looking for a tell that involves one giant boulder leaning on another. Unless you were Superman, who can leap over buildings with one bound, it is no easy matter to survey things from the top, where I am. Don't really want to make any mistakes that might put me in the ER.

  Trail to the "Sky Rock", Mt Tom in background

I see some tracks and get within a few yards of the site, where I can see the moons of the composition. Not good form to get anywhere on the "canvas" as too much love has desecrated many of these sites. Kathy has found  the rock on her own and we find a way for her to get to my point safely. What a rush! This whole week has been a coming together again and I am so happy to be sharing this experience with Kathy.

    Sky Rock

Where's Denny?

Denny climbing Fossil Falls, North Rim of the Grand Canyon

    Click to enlarge any picture hit X in upper right to return

Denny grew up on Twin Oaks Circle in Chula Vista. It was off the main street and had a small town feel. This is where he met Joe Laplante, who would be a best friend for the rest of his life.

Denny and I met in the 4th grade at St. Rose of Lima. We started our friendship making money on marriages as altar boys. Jay Hollister, an ex marine who fought in the South Pacific, took care of our physical training in sports while the Benedictine Sisters did their best to curtail our bad behavior with ruler discipline and public humiliation. Most of the time it didn't work.

Denny is front row second from right. He was the math genius in elementary school, but had only marginal interest in the other subjects. He saved all his money from his paper route to build up a hot rod for high school. It was a beautiful 34 Ford with a big engine his father helped him rebuild. He went to Chula Vista High while I went to Hilltop. We both continued on to San Diego State and managed to survive motorcycles and free fraternity beer. He sold his motorcycle to get a big ring for Margaret, the love of his life, toward the end of his stay at SDSU.

In the coming years Denny became the stand up guy that you all know and love. We had many family adventures in Baja and were partners in a cabin south of Rosarito. He loved the ocean and enjoyed fixing up the cabin with a flush toilet and drywall, whereas I mostly just enjoyed surfing. Denny and I have always been quite different, but he didn't need others to be like him. Most people try to make themselves and their choices "right", but Denny didn't have that gene.

Denny started his own software company, which involved data collection and analysis on tactical systems. While he was doing this work, he continued to develop a string of rental houses and made upgrades to most of them. At one point I was between jobs and worked for him. No one could match his energy and productivity. Most tenants loved him because he gave good service and frequently counseled them on how to get their own place.

His physical exploits are legendary. In college, he benched over 240 lbs while weighing around 120. He had a string of 30 consecutive half marathons and after 60 did a few marathons. We did a few mini-triathlons together. He had the balance of a cat and no apparent fear of heights. When he mountain biked with our weekly group, he kept up well without being there often. This usually involved at least one fall, but he never seemed to get hurt. I saw him do things in Sedona that showed a complete disregard for a bad outcome. Kind of the opposite to the way I ride.

We took Denny backpacking to Big Pine Lakes, North Fork drainage about 20 years ago. On the first trip he found our favorite spot. It is nestled on the top of boulders, looking across 2nd Lake to Temple Craig. Denny quickly learned how to fish that lake and displayed his cooking acumen with the fresh trout. His sons Patrick and Michael, daughter Jennifer and our daughter Allie accompanied us on many of those adventures. During the last few years, most of the time it was just Kathy, Denny and I when we made our yearly pilgrimage to the eastern High Sierra.

Denny and Jennifer, looking back toward 2nd Lake

Second Lake, looking at Temple Craig

Here's where the "Where's Denny" starts to rear it's ugly head. There had been a few precursors on mountain bike rides, but I chose to ignore the warning signs. Denny was so focused that he could lose the group in minutes. From that point on, Dan volunteered as sweeper and he kept Denny in sight.

We began to do point to point backpacks (moving each day) with Denny and discovered some interesting things.  He could rebuild an Aston Martin using 5 gallon pails to pile the parts.  He said "It's kind of obvious how it goes together" (!).  However,  packing a backpack could be almost a perpetual motion exercise. Time for a break?  Oh no, he's dismantling his pack again! I used deep breathing and other techniques to keep my compulsive nature in check.

His disappearances on the trail took epic proportions. The great part of it this year was that it got to the level of a joke between us.

Three months ago, we were going to repeat our 5 day Piute Pass to Bishop Pass loop of a few years ago. We left the North Lake car campground early. At Piute Pass, Denny told us to go ahead and he would catch up. Unfortunately, the Rough Fire had carpeted the entire southern Sierra. The closer we got to the John Muir Trail, the worse the smoke. Kathy and I retreated back up the canyon to a flat camp place.

We were worried about Denny, because he was two hours getting to the camp. "Where's Denny" became our mantra. There was palpable relief when he came down the trail. He had gotten on a side trail while coming down, but was in good spirits and completely comfortable. Denny wanted to go on. There is no quit in this guy. I was conflicted because Kathy was coughing so badly that she was not able to continue. We were elated when Denny decided to go back with us rather than continuing on by himself.

The next morning Kathy and I were packed. After about a half hour, Denny told us to go on ahead and that he would catch up. By midday we were over the pass at Piute Lake and began to nap on some boulders while waiting for Denny. After the second hour of waiting, we began to question the few hikers that came by to see if they had seen Denny. Of course the mantra began anew. When he got to us an hour later, Denny was in great spirits. Time for him was just a four letter word.

When we got back to our favorite car campsite at North Lake, I started a fire. We bought some wine and had one of the best campfire conversations of my life. Cells of weather brought light rain, but it didn't matter. We were upbeat after having done 30 miles and Piute Pass twice in two days. Denny said that he and I were so lucky to be able to do these trips and that we would continue to do them together until our 90's.

Whether it was a five cities ride, a snow climb of San Jacinto, a cross country ski up San Gorgonio or just a hike up Iron Mountain, Denny was my go to guy. Whenever you went anywhere with him, his ordinary transactions were characterized by a kindness toward others and a complete occupation of the present moment. All of the people who worked for him knew this. One of the things he did last year was to look up an old employee, who had been deported to Mexico. He was living in Rosarito and had virtually no teeth. Denny picked up the tab for him to get them fixed. Who does this kind of thing?

For as many seasons as I have left in the Sierra, I know part of my experience will be the eternal quiet that soothes me. But every trip, from this year forward, will have that feeling at least once when I look back trail and repeat the mantra   "Where's Denny?"