Backpacking journal photos
Emigrant Wilderness - August 2003
by Joe Hu

An leisurely 30 miles in 5 days.

Joe, Amy, Rauser, Sudeep, Mike D, Utz, Lutz, Jeremy, Odog, Natty, and Mojo.

Chipmunk Flat.

We arrived late at night at the designated meeting place: Chipmunk Flat campground a couple miles from the Leavitt Lake Road turnoff. We hastily set up camp in the most available spot. After igniting a duraflame and cracking open the case of Coors light, we huddled near the bright but heatless fire and talked loudly. We turned in to our tents soon after, eager to get our vacation under way.

We lingered around camp that next morning. We had a short hike planned for the first day, so we took our time getting packed up. Rauser who had been running late the day before, had only just begun to get his food ready for the hike, his food was scattered around the bed of his truck. The rest of us waited for him with bags packed.

Leavitt Lake

The road to Leavitt Lake rattled us up past several RV campers, and dumped us into the Leavitt Lake basin. The lake, surrounded by menacing looking peaks on three sides, twinkled with icy water. Several teenagers hiked passed us sweating profusely. As I looked upward toward Leavitt Lake pass, I realized we'd soon be the ones sweating profusely. We strapped on our packs, strapped packs onto the dogs, and velcro'd their boots on, and we were off.

The trail immediatley climbs steeply and doesn't relent. We passed a tie-dyed shirt wearing dude. He carried a pair of skis on his shoulder, and wore heavy ski boots on his feet. His brown border collie laid obediently at his feet under the rare shade of a tree. "I've skied 48 consecutive weeks up here." He bragged, pointing at tiny snow patches high up on the mountains. We kept moving trying to keep the momentum going. Utz, Mike D and Jeremy had long since blasted ahead of Amy and me. In the distance they trudged uphill like tiny ants, bypassing a long switchback, opting for an uncompromising straight-uphill route. Amy and I followed their painful path. As the trail finally began to flatten, I turned to see the vast expanse of mountains, and the refreshing lake below. I was rejuvenated, and as I reached the incredible view at the top of the pass, my breath was stolen by the boundless view. We sat atop the 10,600 foot pass and waited for Sueep and Butz to arrive.

From Leavitt Pass the trail descends steeply. The loose rocky trail slides very steeply to the left, down to Kennedy Canyon. I imagined a slip might be very dangerous here. I urged Amy to be careful here. We each took our turns slipping on the steep dirt, finally reaching the trail intersection to Kennedy Canyon. Ahead, the ominous Big Sam zig-zagged upward to a treeless peak. I began to mentally prepare for the following day's climb. We continued toward Big Sam, eyeballing a potential water source. Ahead, Utz, Mike and Jeremy staked out a great campsite, somewhat near a trickling stream surround gorgeously by wildflowers. We'd hiked a minimal distance today, but I was pretty tired.

Silent Pepper Camp

A simple hike to the stream became quite a issue. As each person returned from a trip to fill water, or to clean themselves, they huffed and puffed back to camp. This was certainly NOT sea-level.

The rest of the day was very relaxing. To the south, jagged peaks stuck above us. To the north, rolling hills, to the east; the ominous Big Sam beckoned, and west, Leavitt Pass bid us a safe trip. We absorbed the view hungrily and fantasized about what was to come. Each of us read respective books or magazines, and I vegetated under the hot sun. Temperatures varied quite a bit. In the shade, a icy breeze chilled to the bone, yet a step away, the sun was impressively hot. We traded back and forth to maintain a comfortable temperature. Sudeep slept a short distance away, apparently trying to stay out of earshot of Brian and my raunchiness, which was in plentiful supply. Jeremy made himself scarce and set up his tent far away from our area. He was determined to spend as much time solo as possible. He debated splitting off from us and heading off by himself tomorrow. It hadn't even been 24 hours,... were we THAT annoying?

As the sun dwindled, we savored the magic hour of light; the warm glow just prior to sunset. We lit a small fire and settled into the evening. >>>

 

 

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Big Sam

It loomed ahead of us. It was indeed intimidating. I hadn't been at this altitude before and was worried about the 1200 feet we'd be climbing today. Mike D, Utz, and Jeremy, who'd decided to move forward with us today, took off ahead of us and bolted toward Big Sam. Butz who was lagging as usual and finished packing just as Rauser and Sudeep rounded the turn ahead of us. Amy and I patiently waited as Butz continued to fumble with his gear. Utz, Mike and Jeremy were long gone by the time we got on the trail. We pushed forward, the moon hung high in the sky above us. The view was unreal. The trail began with a gradual climb and slowly steepened. Just as the trail began to switchback, Amy realized Otis was missing a bootie. Angrily I threw my pack to the ground and doubled back to find his boot. For $40, I'd be damned if Odog was going to loose a boot now. I stomped back down the trail and moments later found the straggler boot. We continued up the loose gravel and jagged rock trail to the 5-6 switchbacks that would bring us to one of the best views of the Sierras. It was awe inspiring. In the distance, we could see High Emigrant Lake, Grizzly Lake, and Emigrant Meadow Lake. I grabbed a energy bar, whipped out the camera and took some snaps. Just as an icy breeze blew threw me, we made the decision to head down the other side.

Running Horse Camp

We switched back and forth down into the valley below. We moved cross country and bee-lined for Emigrant Lake where Jeremy spotted a pre-established camp overlooking Emigrant Meadow Lake. In the distance some horses grazed silently. We lounged for the rest of the day, reading and mellowing with the view in the distance. Amy and I explored the meadow, catching some rays on a rock outcropping near the lake. Rauser got his fly rod and with Sudeep and Natty, headed to the lake to make an attempt at catching dinner. Butz and Utz, took their turns bathing in the stream. We made the term "power-lounging" appropriate.

When the magic hour arrived, Amy heard a distant, "WWwhhooooAAA!" followed by rapid thuds of hooves pounding trail. A white steed bolted over the rock outcropping and like lightning crossed the meadow in a hurry. Two tiny figures tried to follow the horse as it crossed over a hill in the distance. We named the campsite appropriately, "Running Horse." As night fell we lit the campfire, dined and turned in early.

Cross -Country

I woke early and inconsiderately read quietly aloud to Amy from the book she was reading, "Into Thin Air". After everyone was roused we began slowly packing. Jeremy had left earlier in the morning and headed off solo toward Brown Bear Pass, and over to the Louis Lakes. We had made the decision to skip Dorothy Lake and adventure down a cross-country route through a canyon and head toward Cinko Lake. We headed up and over historic Emigrant Pass, overlooking Emigrant Meadow to the West, and Grizzly Peak to the South. We were going to the left of Grizzly Peak where the map showed an unmaintained trail. Once we reached the trail intersection to the left. The "trail" evaporated, and we were left on our own. As we hiked through a gorgeous meadow, we passed a lone hiker with a float tube strapped to his back. The meadow gave way to a small rocky waterfall where we dropped our packs and had a nice lunch. After a short rest we packed up again and continued down the trailess canyon.

It was a straight forward route. If we followed the contours, it was nearly impossible to miss the trail intersection. Still, uncertainty was in the minds of the mapless. I was the only one with a map handy, and the route finding was entrusted to Rauser and me to find our way. Doubts arose and quickly we assured everyone we were on the right track. A mile and some bushwhacking later Rauser stood ahead with arms stretched. He stood on a narrow dirt trail. The short 2.7 miles down the canyon seemed like 7. It had taken us significantly longer tthan I had expected. But we were in the right place, and we were safe. We made a right on the trail, passed a stagnant pond on the left, climbed a bit, and with a hollar we arrived at Cinko Lake. It was gorgeous anc clean. A large campsite was right in front of us. We all sropped our packs and splashed into the crystal cold lake. We were blessed again with a fantastic campsite. More power-lounging, and more reading followed. Rauser readied his rod and headed out again determined to catch something other than a cold.

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