From PCT mile 828.6 to 839.8 Total: 11.1 miles 7/12
On my 20th day hiking the PCT Sierra Section, I climbed 4000 feet in 11 miles through Le Conte Canyon, along the Middle Fork Kings River, up to the summit of Muir Pass, where I camped inside the Muir Hut (on the John Muir Trail). There were creeks gushing with rushing water, multiple thundering waterfalls, large swathes of melting snow, and vast meadows filled with hungry trout, all surrounded by towering peaks and steep canyon walls of granite immensity. This was the Heart of the High Sierra!
OK, so maybe I stated during yesterday’s hike that Mather Pass was the Heart, or maybe I said it was Mount Whitney, or Forester Pass, or Glen Pass, or Pinchot Pass, or even Kearsarge Pass. But I insist that I was always telling the truth! Perhaps the Heart of the Sierra is within the Observer. In fact, I’ll probably say it again when writing about tomorrow’s hike through Evolution Basin and Valley. It’s that beautiful.
Anyway, let’s get on with the day’s hike. I knew that it was going to be a big climbing day, so I woke up in the dark, at 3:30am or so, and was already hiking by 5am, at first light. Metal Tim and my fellow campers were still in their tents, with their headlamps shining bright, lighting their nylon domes from within. Very pretty. Meanwhile, I was already hiking out, tiptoeing past them without a sound. I love hiking in the cool quiet of dawn, and up the trail I went.
After climbing steadily for a mile or so, the trail flattened out, and Grouse Meadows came into view. This was one of the truly magical spots along the JMT, with its vast green wetland and slow meandering river. I thought about camping here yesterday (remembering when my son and I hiked here back in 2020), but realized that the mosquitos would probably be insane at this time of year. True to form, they came out the moment I stopped to try my hand at fly fishing! After a bit of DEET they left me alone, and then I caught a small Golden Trout on a barbless hook. After a brief struggle, I freed it unharmed. Then I paused a bit longer to take a number of photos and videos. At this time of day it was too early for sunshine, but I got good reflections and a bit of alpenglow color on the western side of the canyon. Nice.
The next stretch of trail was general climbing along the side of the river. It was flowing down below me, roaring steadily, and the clouds up above began to get a bit of color as the sun finally rose beyond a distant horizon east of Owens Valley and the Sierra Crest. Across the way was The Citadel, a tall granite crag known to backcountry rock climbers.
There was a bit of avalanche debris, leftover from the Winter of 2023, but there were already hiker-worn “Use Trails” around the fallen trees, so the going wasn’t too bad. And there were plenty of smooth granite water slides and big cascading waterfalls, too. I’m a waterfall-oholic, so of course I left the trail to check them out up close and personal. The sound and power was intense.
The next big excitement was meeting up with the Bishop Pass Trail. Ever since last year, in 2023, when the footbridge over the San Joaquin River was damaged (and eventually removed by work crews), both the rangers and the PCT Association have been strongly recommending that all PCT and JMT hikers bypass the entire section between here and the Piute Pass Trail. That’s fourteen miles of some of the loveliest scenery on the trail! That’s hiking the John Muir Trail without hiking over Muir Pass! That’s essentially cutting out the Heart of the Sierra! This was unthinkable, and yet they not only thought it, but promoted it (all in the name of safety, of course).
I read on the internet about a viable two-mile alternate route that Andrew Skurka came up with (by looking at a topo map and satellite photos only) which climbed up and over the offending section of missing bridge, and a lot of folks on the Far Out app said that it worked, but also that it took about four hours to hike. I pre-downloaded this route onto my CalTopo mapping app two months earlier, and I was intending to hike it if necessary. I’m not afraid of off-trail travel. So sorry, rangers and PCTA, but there was NO WAY that I was going to miss hiking over Muir Pass and through Evolution Valley.
Meanwhile, the snows were melting fast this season, the river flow was lower, and I was meeting many southbound JMT hikers who survived the river crossing, about 0.4 miles below the missing bridge. This was the biggest excitement on the trail this year, and everyone was talking about it. I decided to take a Wait and See attitude on the river crossing, but I was going to remain on the PCT no matter what.
The next two miles of trail were relatively uneventful in terms of waterfalls, although the river was still loud and strong. The climbing was steady all the way to Little Pete Meadow. After that, it was time for the canyon to take a left turn and head west for a while.
Big Pete Meadow was next on the agenda. There were quite a few good campsites in this area. Langille Peak was the focus of attention near here, as it was the center of the turning radius when the trail curved west. Luckily for me, it was still early morning, and the temperature hadn’t climbed too high yet. Last time I was here, on a solo hike back in 2021, the sun nearly broiled me alive as I climbed uphill on a toasty afternoon. No thanks! Yet another reason to wake up early. I was hating life that time, but now it was glorious!
Just the same, right after I was patting myself on the back, the trial decided to get extra-steep, and remove most of the trees! I plodded on, up through the talus-fall, and was thankful for any patches of shade I could find. I also just checked the elevation profile for this 4000 foot climb, and this was the spot where the slope really started increasing. It varied constantly, of course, depending upon local terrain, but in general it got steeper all the way to Muir Pass from here.
There was a waterfall near a fun section of trail, where a smooth granite slab crossed the canyon. The glaciers formed it long ago, but when the trail builders came through here one hundred years ago, they had a bit more trouble. They literally carved the trail out of solid granite. It was fun to hike on this testament to the JMT.
On the one hand, the trail was steeper, but on the other, it afforded more options for excellent waterfalls and cascades. This was definitely true in Le Conte Canyon, and I was there to thoroughly document them all via excessive numbers of photos and videos.
Above the waterfall, the trail flattened out and crossed a lovely high meadow. Up here at 10,400 feet elevation, it was getting close to treeline, so the few pines in the area were all low and scrubby, and close to water. A bit further on, the trail climbed yet again, and I came upon the spot where I camped last time, after the roasting hot climb. It brought back not-so-fond memories, to be honest. But I do remember how overjoyed I was to set up my tent and take a nap! Today’s hike was much different. I was tougher now, having hiked long days for weeks, and the weather was nicer, too. But I still had miles to go today, and almost half the total climb.
Meanwhile, clouds were forming and floating by overhead, providing random shade. I was still expecting rain sometime this afternoon, because there had been clouds already present in the early morning (a sure sign in the Sierra) but for now I was liking them. I might feel different in a thunderstorm. But I couldn’t change anything, so I hiked onward, and the views were excellent. The Middle Fork was getting smaller as it rose, and soon the trail began crossing it regularly, first one direction and then the other. All the way to the pass.
The trail turned to the northwest for a while, until it reached an unnamed lake at 10,800 feet, at which point it swung back around to the southwest. Meanwhile, the canyon narrowed and more snow was evident along the northern slopes around me. Mount Warlow dominated this section of trail, and it contributed to the stark granite beauty of the scene. And still I climbed onward.
At this point, it seemed like water was flowing absolutely everywhere! The snow was melting, skinny waterfalls were cascading down all over, and the middle fork grew wide and shallow, tumbling over small blocky boulders, then joined forces to rush over a narrow chute. There were large snowbanks directly on the edge of the river, adding water to it drop by drop as they melted. It was quite dramatic. And still I climbed on.
By the time I reached 11,300 feet elevation, there was snow all over the place. The trail was melted out, thank goodness (and thanks to many hiker feet), so progress kept being made. There were icy lakes and snow-clad mountains. I was having a great time!
I was also hiking relatively slowly. Several people passed me that day, including Metal Tim and Little Engine. They were close to my age, and I thought I was a seriously Bad A$$ Hiker, so it didn’t seem fair. But nothing’s fair out in the wilderness. Survival of the fastest! I took yet another break, ostensibly to take additional photos and videos (yes, this is why I hike slower!) and watched them as they traversed across a couple of sloping snowbanks. Well, at least I knew what to expect. And the southbound hikers all said that the snow was slushy, so no MicroSpikes were needed. Too bad, I thought, as I was still carrying a pair, a useless pound in my already-heavy backpack. And so on I climbed, even over the snow and through the river.
Once I reached Helen Lake I knew that I was almost finished with the day’s hike. I only had 400 feet left to climb, and less than a mile to do it in. Oh, yes! All my work was paying off. The clouds were also looking to “pay me off” as they massed for action. There were no more patches of sunshine or blue sky nearby. I decided to continue on without a break, as I already stopped to filter water back by the snow crossings. I had enough to last me overnight, and that’s what mattered. Judging by all the melting snow, I wouldn’t have to walk far to get more water, even up at the pass.
By the time I reached the last few switchbacks, I was getting tired. 4000 feet was a big climb for anyone, let alone a Bad A$$ Geezer like me! Since I knew the fact of my badassedness in my heart, I refused to stop, except for a quick photo, and to get out my GoPro camera for the final stretch leading up to the Muir Hut. As if on cue, the rain began falling in big heavy drops, making a mockery of my lack of break back at Helen Lake. But I was too close to stop and get out my rain gear. The shelter of the stone hut would have to do. I hustled onward and entered the hut, which was full of like-minded hikers.
It was still midafternoon, and everyone was eating snacks and yakking about the trail. Typical hiker-speak. The two younger guys were heading south, so I directed most of my attention toward Metal Tim, and his wife, the Little Engine. I told them that I planned on staying in the hut that night, and that the rain which just happened was all the excuse I needed. I was officially sheltering from a storm. On one of my many Sierra hikes, I met a girl who stayed in the hut during a rainstorm, and she said that it didn’t leak a drop. I figured that it would, with a roof made of stone blocks, but apparently they designed it with rain in mind. They also made a fireplace, even though there wasn’t a single pine tree for miles. In those days travelers on the John Muir Trail often went on horseback, because the gear was so heavy and resupply points so far apart. Horses could carry wood for fires. But now the fireplace is blocked. Not that anyone could use it anyway, or accidently set fire to a building made entirely of stone. National Park Logic, I’m guessing. Although I wasn’t complaining about the lack of draft.
Tim and the Engine told me that they were going to continue onward, down to Evolution Lake, which is where I camped last time. I didn’t see any point in it for me. We talked about the missing bridge, and what to do. We all wanted to try the now-easier ford of the river rather than the climb. I asked them if I could join them two days from now so we could cross together, for moral support if nothing else. Tomorrow, I planned to hike all the way down Evolution Valley to the bottom near the San Joaquin River, about a mile from the crossing. Crossing in the morning was supposed to be best with rivers fed by melting snow. They agreed to join forces, which was a big relief for me. At least someone would know if I got swept away to my death. It’s the little things that make a difference. And after that, they hiked onward, and I was left in the hut by myself.
I went outside and checked the weather. I also took tons of photos of the hut, even though I already took a ton of them back in 2021. Why not? Meanwhile, as the afternoon wore on, other hikers arrived at the hut, in ones and twos. Everybody stopped for a break, and news of the trail was updated.
As sunset neared, the flow of hikers dropped to zero. This was what I was waiting for. I dusted the sand from the stone shelf along the rear wall, inflated my sleeping pad, and spread out my sleeping bag. I set up my stove and boiled some water near the window, then let the ramen noodles soak for a while. It was quite a homey scene as I ate dinner and read my Kindle by the light of sunset through the glass.
Afterward, I went outside to enjoy my own personal sunset on Muir Pass. It was already much colder out there than inside the hut, plus there was a steady breeze that cut through my clothing. Brrr! I was getting cold! But that didn’t matter as long as I got in a few more photos of the sunset.
True, by this point I wasn’t exactly sheltering from a storm, as most of the clouds were gone. But the weather report on my InReach satellite device said that there was a significant chance of rain, so I decided to go with that. Besides, it was too late to hike anywhere now. So I went back into the relative warmth of the hut and dressed for the night, then got into my sleeping bag. I turned on my headlamp and looked around. This was probably one of the best rooms I’d ever spent the night in! And the location couldn’t be beat.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
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