From PCT mile 839.8 to 853.6 Total: 13.9 miles 7/13
I spent the 21st day of my PCT Sierra Section Trek hiking north from Muir Pass through the Evolution Basin and Valley, checking out pristine lakes, viewing stark granite mountains, watching the breeze on grassy meadows, fording Evolution Creek again and again, fly fishing for Golden Trout, and hiking through an afternoon thunderstorm. This was one of the prettiest parts of the High Sierra, and almost all of the hike was downhill, making for an excellent day. And I even joined an impromptu “tramily” with fellow PCT hikers.
I began the morning inside the Muir Hut. It was raining a bit yesterday when I arrived, so I used that as an excuse to spend the night in the stone shelter. I’m not going to lie when I state that I intended to camp here anyway, but the rain was a nice touch. I woke up at 3:30am, in the dark, and got dressed for the day. It was fairly warm inside the hut, with no wind. No bugs, either. I stepped outside to check the weather, and let me tell you: It was cold and miserable out there, with a stiff breeze that cut right through my clothing. It also appeared to have rained overnight. Good, I thought, and headed right back inside. I was really growing fond of this hut.
After cooking breakfast (with a view out the window) and gathering up my gear, I put on my backpack and stepped outside, closing the door firmly behind me. It was time for some sunrise photos! And time to say farewell to Muir Pass. It was all downhill from here, and I only had one day of food left in my bear canister, so my pack was as light as possible.
The first part of the day’s hike was descending through what I call Upper Evolution Basin. This basin is a high, relatively flat expanse of glaciated granite containing a number of named and unnamed lakes, plus a sparse coating of tundra-like plant growth. Some might call this zone above 11,500 feet elevation harsh and forbidding, but I like it for its stark beauty.
Last Winter’s still-melting snow was causing small rivulets of water to flow all over the basin, and the trail crossed them, with plenty of rock hopping fun. There was no ice that morning, and mud was impossible without dirt, so it was easy to ford what could only be called the headwaters (plural!) of Evolution Creek.
The first named body of water was Lake McDermand, but the trail only passed nearby. After crossing the creek yet another time, I approached Wanda Lake in a more intimate fashion. In fact, the path was directly along the shore. It was a large lake, but it probably wasn’t all that deep. But deep enough to go swimming in, if you liked ice water! I had heard that it was fishless, so I didn’t even bother getting out my fly rod. And that was OK, as there would be plenty of Golden Trout in my future.
The second phase was when the trail turned north after Wanda Lake, and descended along Evolution Creek on the way to Sapphire Lake. This zone headed down toward the 11k-foot mark, and was characterized by several crossings of the creek, and good views of the nearby peaks. On this day, the sun was rising through scudding storm clouds, which changed shape continually. It even rained on me for a few minutes! Of course, rain clouds in the morning usually meant a thunderstorm by afternoon, but I was prepared for that. Just as long as the lightning didn’t start any wildfires!
This region was where my PeakFinder Earth app began to shine. There were plenty of mountains all around this basin, and most of them were named using an “Evolution” and “Philosopher” theme. For example: Darwin, Mendel, and Huxley, among others. It must have been satisfying to be an early explorer/surveyor, armed with the Power of Naming. At least these titles beat the unimaginative types like First Lake, Second Lake, etc.
I entered what I think of as the “proper” Evolution Basin when the trail dropped below 11k feet. Sapphire Lake was just below me. I remembered being here back in 2021, and eating lunch along the shore. This time, I was much too early for lunch, but I had my Tenkara Fly Rod to keep me busy instead. I hiked down the trail until I saw a good fishing spot, then turned right and stopped near a likely set of boulders, ones that stuck out into the lake, since Tenkara rods don’t have a very long line. Serious fly fishermen wear chest waders so they can get further into the water, and carry proper reels for longer casts, but there were no such things as Ultralight Chest Waders. A set of those wouldn’t have stopped the ice water from freezing me even if they existed. I recalled that this lake was frozen just a few weeks ago. Reels were heavy, too. My carbon rod only weighed about four ounces total. After fishing for just a few minutes, I can truthfully state that the Golden Trout were small in size, but quite hungry after a long, bugless winter! I let the fish go, and then it was time to move on. Fourteen miles wasn’t going to hike itself.
By this time, the small streams of the upper basin had joined with the main creek, and there was quite a large flow leaving Sapphire Lake. The next lake in the chain was the gem, and namesake, of the entire basin: Evolution Lake. But the trail was on the other side, so it necessitated a crossing. Sometime in the past, the trail builders wrestled large boulders into place, to assist hikers at a wide and shallow ford, just above the lake. The rocks were the perfect distance apart for taking big steps above the water, which flowed happily between them. They were large enough not to get moved by the Spring floods, and there were no tree trunks up here to cause trouble during flash floods. As always, I took a GoPro video as I crossed, and probably took a few too many photos. Sorry, not sorry!
After that, it was time to check out Evolution Lake. It was huge, and filled the lower end of the basin. A gigantic glacier ground this valley into existence back in the Ice Age, and you could see the results of its sculpting everywhere. Polished rock along the lakeshore, rounded granite slopes on the valley walls, and, high above on the moutainsides, the steep vertical cliffs where the slowly moving megatons of ice inexorably tore away at the upper edges of its domain.
The PCT used to go along the edge of the lake, but no longer. Damage to the fragile tundra plants was rampant, so they moved it uphill into the rocky zone. All that was left was the rarely-frequented fisherman’s path, which exists around nearly every lake everywhere. And that’s exactly what I was looking for. I found another nice boulder, sadly near a shallow region, and tried my hand once again. It took a while, but I caught another small Golden and let it go. Thus far, my prototype PCT Sierra Trout Guide was proving correct. This valley was stocked with Goldens about a hundred years ago, and they were thriving. Need I mention that Golden Trout are the official State Fish of the Golden State? But everyone knows that.
I met up with Metal Tim and his wife, Little Engine, not far from my fishing spot. They were camped there, and had slept late, because today’s hike was planned to be shorter. Yesterday afternoon, in the Muir Hut, we made plans to cross the South Fork San Joaquin River together, and I hoped to camp with them tonight, just before the infamous missing bridge. We’d cross that bridge when we came to it, so to speak. Tomorrow morning.
I continued hiking solo for a while, and paused for lunch just north of Evolution Lake, where the land dropped off into Evolution Valley. I had an awesome view from up there, looking down at the tree- and meadow-filled valley, with languid Evolution Creek meandering back and forth. For those who find the starkness of the high basins a bit forbidding, this valley offered everything they ever dreamed of. My new partners joined me as I finished lunch, and we hiked down the switchbacks together. It started to rain, just a light sprinkle, so I got out my poncho and kept going. There was a nice waterfall on the way down, and I filtered some water, as did the two of them. Then we hiked onward to the valley floor, which began at about 10,000 feet elevation.
Evolution Valley was a wonderful place to hike. All told, it dropped about 1000 feet, but it took five miles to do it, so the slope was mellow. Super-cruisey hiking. And the meadows were gorgeous! First there was Colby Meadow, then McClure Meadow, and finally Evolution Meadow at the far end. There was a Backcountry Ranger Station at McClure Meadow, but I didn’t bother stopping at the cabin. I just read the usual notices about the damaged/missing bridge and how crossing the river was “Not Recommended” and that doing it was “At Your Own Risk.” Well, sure it was. Everything out here was at my own risk. They don’t put handrails along the trail when it climbs next to a cliff! Kinda silly, I know, but treating people like they’re stupid and need warnings for the most obvious of dangers is absurd. This is what Evolution is all about! Making the Human Race smarter, better, and faster. Just ask Mount Darwin’s namesake. But enough ranting about the obvious.
Up at the head of the valley was The Hermit, a granite dome that dominated the skyline above the meadows. The main creek stayed off to the left, occasionally getting close to the trail as it meandered back and forth. Along the way, the trail crossed numerous streams tumbling down from high on the Glacier Divide, which was now on our north as the main trail had swung around to the west. Just because the JMT signs said “north” didn’t mean that the trail had to listen.
About halfway along, I stopped for a break near an awesome campsite just past McClure Meadow. I put down my pack and got out the fly rod again, but I was unsuccessful this time. There was a big slow bend in the creek with a fine view back to the Hermit over the meadow. I really wanted to camp there, but it wasn’t going to happen. I tried to make myself feel better by deciding that the mosquitos would surely be unbearable later on, near sunset, due to all that water. Then I heaved a big sigh as I heaved my pack onto my back, and hiked on.
I met back up with my partners as we neared the alternate trail for the next creek crossing. Everyone we spoke to said that this next crossing was super easy, just a long wade across a sandy riverbed, so we didn’t bother with the alternate trail.
This spot was also a “Moment of Truth” point in the trek: Camp here and take Skurka’s up-and-over cross-country route? This would skip the bridge entirely. Or continue on and ford not only Evolution Creek up ahead, but also the more dangerous South Fork San Joaquin River below the missing bridge. It didn’t take us very long to decide. We chose to hike on. Damn the torpedoes; full speed ahead!
Naturally, it began to rain the moment we arrived at the Evolution Creek Ford. I found a log to sit on near the bank and put down my backpack. I got out the cheap poncho and tossed it over my head, then freed my sandals from the pack. I took off my shoes and socks and stuffed them in a dry sack and hung it on the pack. Wearing only my Teva’s, I got out my GoPro and videoed the crossing. Just like I did last time, in 2021, when it was nice and sunny. Videos and flowing water go together.
The rain really picked up when I arrived on the far bank. I put my hiking shoes back on, then stood under a tree and waited for my new buddies. Being me, I took more videos and photos, and was lucky enough to catch a good rolling blast of thunder in one of them. Yes, it was time for the Daily Afternoon Thundershowers, a perennial favorite of High Sierra backpackers.
The next video was of Metal Tim, who walked across barefoot, like a man! When he arrived, he asked that I look away while Little Engine crossed wearing panties, like a woman! No, there will be no videos of this event.
While the two of them got their gear back together, I decided to ditch the poncho and put on my full rainsuit, pants and all. I also put on the backpack cover. It really started raining hard by then. After that, it was time to head down the rest of Evolution Valley until it dropped off into the South Fork San Joaquin River. I remembered this section, because the creek had a number of excellent waterfalls, and the flowing water had ground an impressively deep ditch in the granite for itself as it went over the lip of the valley. Yes, I admit that I took too many videos. By this time, the thunderstorm had moved on, and I took off the rainpants, which were making me overheat, and unzipped the jacket, too.
The views of the valley below us consisted mainly of mist and other post-storm steamy clouds, and it was quite pretty. All told, the descent was about 700 feet, via switchbacks cut into the granite canyonside. The air was muggy and warm now that we approached the 8000 foot elevation mark, but at least the hiking was all downhill. We flew right along.
Down at the bottom, the trail passed over a long flat area next to the river. We saw a few tents already set up. Tim recognized the tent of Greg and Tory, who I met two nights ago. We stopped to chat, and invited them to cross the river with us the following morning. There was strength in numbers. Or a bit less fear, at any rate.
We hiked along, looking for a good campsite. Tim decided that he wanted to light a campfire, to dry out our gear, now that we were below 10k feet and it was allowed. Plus, it just rained. Sounded safe to me. We found a spot with a fire ring near the wooden bridge and started to set up camp. Little Engine somehow managed to find some dry wood and kindling, which was amazing, and soon there was a small fire burning. My gear was dry enough, though my pants and shoes were a bit wet, but I was happy to hang out near the fire anyway. We yakked and yakked. The sun even came out briefly, until it dropped below the western rim of the valley.
I went and filtered some water from the river, and even tried to fish, but the flow was too swift. There were no pools or eddies for the trout to hang out in, so I gave up. The river here joined with Evolution Creek further downstream, and that looked to my eye like quite a lot of fast-flowing water. We were supposed to cross this beast? No wonder they had a bridge. Too bad it got damaged during the triple-normal Winter of 2023, probably by an avalanche. The bridge only got bent, and was still technically possible to cross (by brave hikers) until the park came and removed it entirely last year. Now there was nothing in its place. Except a dangerous water crossing. Sad but true.
I returned to my tent and sat down on the air mattress. It felt great after a 14 mile hiking day. I cooked my dinner in the vestibule and ate it happily. All I had left in my bear canister was two packs of oatmeal, a small bag of chips, some snack for the next day, and a Pop-Tart. Tomorrow I would be refilling it when I picked up my resupply at Muir Trail Ranch, but for now I felt like an Ultralight Backpacker.
After hanging out by the fire a bit longer, I headed off to bed. I thought about today’s hike, and how beautiful Evolution Basin and Valley had been. Truly the Heart of the High Sierra! I wasn’t sure that the PCT would be able to beat it as I continued north. Still, I was confident that I would discover beauty pretty much everywhere.
I fell asleep thinking about the upcoming river crossing. All the JMT hikers we spoke to said that it wasn’t too bad, and I had good balance, so I decided not to worry about it. I’m not a worrier, as a rule. Just the same, tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
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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