Day 31: Matterhorn Canyon and Benson Pass

From PCT mile 952.3 to 967.5 Total: 15.3 miles 8/7

It was my 31st day on the trail, and I was hiking through Yosemite National Park, from a spot near the Glen Aulin High Sierra Camp to Benson Pass, via Cold Canyon, Virginia Canyon, Spiller Canyon, Matterhorn Canyon, and Wilson Canyon, all part of the notorious ups and downs of the Yosemite Washboard section of the PCT.

I knew about the washboard, and all the alternating climbs and descents ahead of me, so I got up at my usual 4am, and cooked myself some hot oatmeal. My spot was up on the side of the canyon, so it avoided the damp cold air at the bottom. My tent was dry as I packed it away, which made me happy. It’s the little things in life.

Heading north from my camp near Cold Canyon in Yosemite NP at first light — Heading north from my camp near Cold Canyon at first light

The headlamp was useful in the forest at this hour, although it wasn't needed in a treeless meadow — My headlamp was useful in the forest at this hour, but not in the meadow

It wasn’t far to Cold Canyon, just through an easy wooded patch. There were mists drifting along the watercourse in the wide meadow. It wasn’t very canyonlike at all, being mostly flat and covered with grass. The creek meandered across the meadow the way creeks often do, but it wasn’t flowing at this time of year, in August. This was known for being a dry region of the trail, and there was often a warning to hikers to make sure they had enough to get through the canyon. But this time there were still some deep pools of clear water left for the taking, if needed. I didn’t. All I needed was my camera to take photos and videos of the mist and the dawn.

The mist in Cold Canyon at dawn drifted slowly to the south - I was glad I camped where I did last night — The mist in Cold Canyon at dawn drifted slowly to the south – I was glad I camped where I did

View looking north over Cold Canyon at dawn on the PCT — View looking north over the meadow in Cold Canyon at dawn

It was very easy hiking, even though it was technically uphill. I barely even noticed the elevation change. Somewhere between the first and second meadow I heard a horse whinny, so I knew that there were people nearby. But they never showed themselves. Probably still sleeping like sensible folk, not crazy early-bird hikers like me.

Cold Canyon had another, higher meadow, and this one also had drifting mist in the low spots — There was another, higher meadow, and this one also had drifting mist in the low spots

Cold Canyon was known for being dry all Summer, but there were a few clear pools left this August — This canyon was known for being dry all Summer, but there were a few clear pools this August

It was cold as I hiked through the damp mist in the aptly-named Cold Canyon

After about four miles of easy hiking, the meadows ended and I met up with the McCabe Lakes Trail. Long ago, back in 2013, Vicki and I trekked cross-country to Upper McCabe Lake via Don’t Be A Smart Pass (yes, that’s its name) and met up with the trail here, then continued to Matterhorn Canyon and even climbed Matterhorn Peak. That was a fun trip, and it brought back good memories. So I followed my own footsteps north from there, down into Virginia Canyon, where Return Creek flowed south to eventually join the Tuolumne River.

The meadows of Cold Canyon were finished as I entered a pine forest on the Pacific Crest Trail — The meadows were finished as I entered a pine forest

Vicki and I joined the PCT via the McCabe Lake Trail back in 2013 - over ten years ago - good times! — Vicki and I joined the PCT via the McCabe Lake Trail back in 2013 – over ten years ago – good times!

The PCT began its descent into Virginia Canyon after the McCabe Lakes Trail junction, at mile 956 — The PCT began its descent into Virginia Canyon after the trail junction, at mile 956

Down on the valley floor, the trail first crossed McCabe Creek, which was a relatively easy rock-hop. I hiked a bit further into a pleasant area with a number of great campsites. Vicki and I stayed here on our way south to Glen Aulin, and we really enjoyed the weathered granite where Return Creek was channeled through narrow granite chutes and pools. My hiker pal Metal Tim recently told me that, two weeks ago, he tried crossing the creek barefoot at the main crossing and the rocks were so slippery that he fell in the water and soaked some gear in his backpack. Including his shoes, of course. Armed with this knowledge, I read the comments in the Far Out PCT app and someone stated that there was a log just upstream. It turned out to be a bit narrow, but I made it across with dry feet!

At Pacific Crest Trail mile 957 I crossed McCabe Creek, down in Virginia Canyon — At PCT mile 957 I crossed McCabe Creek, down below in Virginia Canyon

The PCT flattened out as it headed a short ways north to the Return Creek crossing in Virginia Canyon — The PCT flattened out as it headed a short ways north to the Return Creek crossing

I crossed Return Creek on this skinny log - It was tough because another hiker stood there watching me — I crossed Return Creek on this skinny log – made tougher by another hiker watching me

I decided that it might be time for a break, as I was down at the bottom of a washboard bump and had a big climb to look forward to. I checked my notes, at my newly-created PCT Sierra Trout Fishing Guide, and my sources on the internet claimed that there were 8-10″ Rainbow Trout in the creek. I followed the trail downstream and found a likely pool. I put down the backpack and got out my Tenkara fly rod. It didn’t take long before I caught a small Rainbow. It probably wasn’t 8″ long, but that’s the way it goes. It still added another mark of confidence in the guide.

There was a deep pool in Return Creek downstream from the PCT crossing, so I decided to fish for trout — There was a deep pool downstream from the PCT crossing, so I decided to fish for trout

Here is the small Rainbow Trout that I caught (and released) in Return Creek at PCT mile 957 — Here is the small Rainbow Trout that I caught (and released)

My fishing spot down in the granite chasm that Return Creek carved in the bottom of Virginia Canyon — My fishing spot down in the granite chasm that Return Creek carved in Virginia Canyon

As Return Creek dropped lower, the trail remained up above, and gradually traversed its way around to the right, into Spiller Canyon. Soon I was watching the flow from Spiller Creek cascading down over granite steps, and water-sliding down granite slabs. Vicki did a butt slide here years ago. But I wasn’t in the mood to douse my buns in icy water.

The PCT curved around to the right, while providing a good view down into Virginia Canyon

The granite water slides in Spiller Creek at PCT mile 958

Spiller Creek and small waterfalls over granite steps

I continued on to the crossing. I decided to wash one of my two pairs of merino wool socks. These socks don’t stink, which is a big plus, but they also get sweaty and collect lots of trail dust, even when wearing gaiters. I tied my shoes to my pack and put on my sandals over the socks. Then I waded across the creek, and it felt great on my tired feet. I put everything down on a convenient rock, then put on a fresh pair plus my shoes. Then it was time to rinse some serious clouds of dust into the creek. Oh yeah. After that, I hung them on the pack to dry.

The Pacific Crest Trail crossing of Spiller Creek wasn't an easy rock-hop, but I wanted to soak my feet — The trail crossing of Spiller Creek wasn’t an easy rock-hop, but I wanted to soak my feet

I rinsed the trail dust out of one pair of my socks in Spiller Creek and hung them on my backpack to dry — I rinsed the trail dust out of my socks and hung them on my backpack to dry

Then the trail began climbing in earnest, switchbacking madly up the grade to Miller Lake. All told, it was about 900 feet of climbing to get out of Virginia Canyon. Vicki and I did it in the afternoon last time, and she didn’t like it at all. But this year I was more of a Hiking Machine, so I just plodded on up.

After crossing Spiller Creek, the Pacific Crest Trail ascended in earnest toward Miller Lake

Vicki really liked these green-striped boulders - this photo is for her — Vicki really liked these green-striped boulders – this photo is for her

Up at the top of the climb, I began to see evidence of recent flash flooding. Metal Tim told me all about it. Apparently, some mega-thunderstorm absolutely dumped water in this area, all along Matterhorn Canyon, on either side of it, and really tore things up, including the trail. This happened just before he arrived, so sometime in late July 2024. As I hiked, I was amazed to see how the grasses were flattened, and how pine duff and other debris was strewn all around. I was also glad that I hadn’t been anywhere near here at the time!

The PCT flattened out and stopped doing switchbacks above Spiller Creek, on the way to Miller Lake — The PCT flattened out and stopped doing switchbacks high above Spiller Creek

Tannin-stained tarn along the Pacific Crest Trail south of Miller Lake — Tannin-stained tarn south of Miller Lake

Bent grass and other signs indicated that a major rain event happened along here (two weeks earlier) — Bent grass and other signs indicated that a major rain event happened here (two weeks earlier)

Just over a low saddle was Miller Lake. Vicki and I camped on the far shore, and it was a good spot. But I wasn’t a fisherman then. It turns out that this lake is fishless, which is a bit sad. Hopefully they introduced the endangered Sierra Yellow-Legged Frogs into the lake instead. The frogs have to live somewhere, even though they don’t make good eating, and are awfully hard to catch! That’s a frog joke, by the way.

I decided to eat lunch here, mostly for the memories but also because it was that time of day. I looked around me and saw plenty more flash-flood evidence. Water must have been flowing absolutely everywhere for this much duff to have been left behind in such interesting patterns. Then I continued north through some glaciated granite channels until I arrived at the edge of Matterhorn Canyon.

View over Miller Lake - Vicki and I camped on that far shore back in 2013 — View over Miller Lake – I camped on that far shore back in 2013

It was breezy out, so there were waves on the surface of Miller Lake that day — It was breezy out, so there were waves on the surface that day

After a pop-tart lunch, I continued on the PCT from Miller Lake, heading down into Matterhorn Canyon — After a pop-tart lunch, I continued north from Miller Lake, heading down into Matterhorn Canyon

I couldn't get over the flooding evidence that was everywhere around here at PCT mile 962 — I couldn’t get over the flooding evidence that was everywhere around here at PCT mile 962

The Pacific Crest Trail passed between two ribs of granite on its way to Matterhorn Canyon — The trail passed between two ribs of granite on its way to the next canyon

The trail broke out into a couple of excellent viewpoints near the edge. Whorl Mountain was up at the head of the canyon, and I also knew that Matterhorn Peak (which we climbed) was just barely out of sight, sadly. I really wanted to see it again. This is the peak that Jack Kerouac climbed in his classic novel Dharma Bums, which was the main reason why I climbed it. Actually he didn’t quite make it to the summit. But I did.

The views both up and down-canyon were excellent. I checked out the Far Out app and determined which valley the PCT would be ascending on the far side. It was a ways downstream. Yet another dip and climb on the Washboard. I was starting to get used to this.

This time I looked up Matterhorn Canyon and saw, once again, Whorl Mountain — I looked north up Matterhorn Canyon and saw Whorl Mountain

View down Matterhorn Canyon - I would eventually be climbing up Wilson Canyon on the far left — View down Matterhorn Canyon – I would be climbing up Wilson Canyon on the far left

This was a great view spot on the PCT that overlooked Matterhorn Canyon - I could see the creek below — This was a great view spot that overlooked the canyon – I could see Matterhorn Creek below

This is a better view of the Wilson Creek valley that the PCT climbs through to reach Benson Pass — This is a better view of the Wilson Creek valley that the PCT climbs up, to reach Benson Pass

When I arrived at the canyon floor, the trail toward Matterhorn Peak and Burro Pass headed off to the right. The PCT headed left, and crossed Matterhorn Creek a short distance away. This spot marked the northernmost point in the Sierra Section of the PCT that I ever hiked. From here on north to Donner Pass, it would be all new ground, with all new experiences (with the exception of a few miles near Lake Tahoe in the Desolation Wilderness). I was pretty excited, as you might imagine. I’m not going to say that redoing the other parts this past month was boring, because it wasn’t, but seeing something new was going to be a real treat. I was really looking forward to it. Once I crossed Matterhorn Creek it would be a whole new world.

It turned out that the creek itself was running fairly low, as most of the snow was melted up-canyon. But the flash flooding had left its mark. Not only were the grasses and pine duff in disarray, the water in Matterhorn Creek was still silty! Usually, silt settles out within a day or two of a rainstorm, but it had been a few weeks! This was unusual. I developed my own hypothesis about it: That the erosion from the flooding had been so major, that areas of sand that had previously been deposited during the glacial epoch had been washed down into the creekbed and were now being leached of their silty riches by the flowing water. The leaching process was taking longer than expected due to the sheer quantity of eroded sand. This silt is the milky stuff that glacial lakes are famous for. I’ll probably never learn whether my theory is correct, as I doubt that anyone else cares enough to monitor or study it. Observing oddities and wonders is what wilderness hiking is all about, and explaining them is what human curiosity tries to do.

Down at the bottom of Matterhorn Canyon at PCT mile 963, and the sign for the trail to Matterhorn Peak — Trail sign in Matterhorn Canyon at PCT mile 963, showing the trail to Matterhorn Peak

This is the crossing of the Pacific Crest Trail over Matterhorn Creek - it was shallow in August, luckily — This is the trail crossing over Matterhorn Creek – it was shallow in August, luckily

Matterhorn Creek was still full of suspended silt, even two weeks after the flash flood!

It was an easy crossing of Matterhorn Creek except for one mighty jump over the main flow

I hiked downstream along the creek. The valley floor was very flat and you could tell that the creek must have swelled to at least a hundred feet wide in many places. Not deep, perhaps, but wide. So glad I wasn’t there! I tried to imagine even hunkering down in a tent for that. It reminded me of the six-hour storm I hunkered through near Whitney back in 2021, and that storm left a lot of erosion and debris in its path. But this one here was much, much worse. I didn’t dare try to purify this water to drink as it would have instantly clogged my filter. Fishing-wise, I wasn’t sure if a trout could have seen my fly.

Lots of pine duff in random dam-piles all across the floor of Matterhorn Canyon from the flash flood — Lots of pine duff in random dam-piles all across the canyon floor from the flash flood

I thought about fly fishing in this pool in Matterhorn Creek, but would the trout even see my hook? — I thought about fly fishing in this pool, but would the trout even see my hook?

More silty water in Matterhorn Creek - I was in a state of shock at the flood evidence — More silty water – I was in a state of shock at the flood evidence

Then I came upon the oddest item of my entire Summer Trek. Earlier this morning, while descending into Virginia Canyon, I met a trail crew on their way back to Tuolumne Meadows. They informed me that they were returning from Matterhorn Canyon after blowing up a dead horse! If I hadn’t met the actual people who did it, I wouldn’t have believed the other southbound hikers who echoed this story. It was the hottest tale on the trail that day, and news travels fast on the PCT. I even spoke to the guy who placed the charges. I asked if he used dynamite, or C4, but he said it was a special type of explosive that you had to have training and a license to use. Everyone said that the dead horse stank to high heaven, as it had been there for several days.

By the time I arrived, the stench was mostly gone. The dry air desiccated the bits and pieces of the horse quite effectively, as did burying most of it. Apparently, there was no way to dig a big enough hole for an animal that large, at least not in this rocky soil. So they literally blew it up, mostly to make it easier for burial. By the time I arrived, some critters had unearthed a few chunks of bone and gristle, but mostly it was underground. And it had died directly on the trail! Strange but true. This happened at PCT mile 963.8 for those who care. I commented on it in the Far Out app at the nearest location, the tentsite at mile 964, and concluded my entry with “RIP horsie! May your spirit gallop within Matterhorn Canyon forever!”

This is the spot where the Yosemite Trail Crew told me that they BLEW UP a dead horse - literally! — This is the spot where the Yosemite Trail Crew told me that they BLEW UP a dead horse – literally!

This was a chunk of smelly dead horse that a critter dug up after they buried the blown-up pieces — A chunk of smelly dead horse that a critter dug up after they buried the blown-up pieces

After that, there were continued signs of flooding, like huge fans of soft sand that washed down from a side canyon, and other examples of pine duff and small debris. At least there weren’t a bunch of downed trees to climb over, so I guess it was mostly rain, and not a wind event.

This fan of deep soft sand came down from a side-canyon during the flood and buried everything

More duff-piles and flattened grasses in Matterhorn Canyon, two weeks after the flood event — More duff-piles and flattened grasses, two weeks after the flood event

I stopped for a break at the right turn into the Wilson Creek drainage. I had about 1700 feet to climb in the next three miles, so I decided to filter just enough water to make it to the highest spot along the creek, where I would top off everything, as I would be camping on the summit of Benson Pass, where it was dry.

I started hiking up the steep switchbacks, and got a few fine views back over Matterhorn Canyon. Some parts of the trail had been seriously damaged by the storm, but others survived. There were sections of trail that were made of the annoying stacked stones that I hate (the ones made for horses, not humans), and some of those were washed away, as well.

I stopped for a break and filtered water at Wilson Creek, before the next climb to Benson Pass

I began climbing the PCT along Wilson Creek and the PCT had been damaged by the flooding — The PCT in Wilson Canyon had been damaged by the flooding

Looking back across Matterhorn Canyon as I climbed up into the Wilson Creek Valley to Benson Pass — Looking back across Matterhorn Canyon as I climbed up into the Wilson Creek Valley

There was more Yosemite-style stacked-rock trailbed on the PCT as I climbed north to Benson Pass — There was more Yosemite-style stacked-rock trailbed – the kind I hate

My fishing guide indicated that there were brookies in Wilson Creek, below 9000 feet, and I found a calm spot where I could see them swimming lazily upstream. In this remote region, they didn’t know what a hook even was, and I caught one within minutes. I let it go, as always.

Then I hiked onward in the afternoon sunshine, sweating my way uphill. The rain damage was so severe that it was often difficult to even find the trail! Until a huge pack train of twenty-plus horses came down the trail, and most of the horses had women riders! Must’ve been a ladies group. The lead wrangler was a man, and I wondered if he was up to dealing with so many women all at once, but I didn’t say anything out loud. Instead, we talked about the dead horse. Of course. After they passed, the trail was easy to find, thanks to all the horse tracks!

I saw some small Brook Trout in Wilson Creek so I had to catch one with my Tenkara Fly Rod

You can see that sand was washed down and covered everything in this part of Wilson Creek Canyon — You can see that sand washed down and covered everything in this part of the canyon

Some parts of the PCT were turned into creeks during the flood, but the big border stones were left

When I arrived at the campsite near mile 967, I took off my backpack and got out the water gear. Time to camel up! But I was tempted to camp there, on a fine spot beneath shade trees with the creek flowing nearby. If it weren’t for the fact that the app comments said that Benson Pass had some stellar views, I might have done so. Goodness knows I was tired enough. Plus, this spot seemed to be on the edge of the flood damage. But not today.

Looking back down Wilson Creek Valley from the Pacific Crest Trail as I headed for Benson Pass — Looking back down Wilson Creek Valley from where the PCT turned toward Benson Pass

There was a nice campsite and water from the creek at PCT mile 966 so I filtered enough for the night

The final mile to the pass also required about 600 more feet of climbing. So I put on my pack, now much heavier, and hiked onward, leaving Wilson Creek behind. The pines began to thin as I neared the pass, which was up above 10k feet, and the views got better and better. It was too late now, but I also noticed a small flowing stream just off-trail to the left as I climbed. I could have waited to filter all that heavy water! Live and learn.

The PCT left Wilson Creek and turned west, headed directly for Benson Pass

Benson Pass was just ahead on the saddle to the right, and I was hoping to find a decent tent site there — Benson Pass was just ahead on the saddle to the right, and I was hoping to find a campsite there

My plan to camp on top of the pass was a bit of a gamble, as there wasn’t an “official” Far Out app campsite listed there, only the icon of a camera indicating good views. And there really were good views. But not much in the campsite department. The pass was broad enough, but everything was a bit sloped, or rocky, or too breezy. Passes tend to have extra wind, thanks to the Venturi Effect, and Benson Pass was no exception. I set down my backpack and wandered around. I eventually chose a very narrow one-person spot in the lee of some stunted pines. I would make it work, somehow. There was a big boulder of bedrock jutting out right in the doorway of the tent, but I had half a doorway, so I compromised. It was good enough, and I was done with another 15+ mile day! I’d call that a Win.

View over Benson Pass on the Pacific Crest Trail at mile 968 (10107 ft) - now to find a campsite — View over Benson Pass at PCT mile 968 (10107 ft) – now to find a campsite

It was breezy that afternoon on Benson Pass, so I set up my tent in the lee (and shade) of some pines — It was breezy that afternoon on the pass, so I set up my tent in the lee (and shade) of some pines

It wasn't the best tent spot, thanks to that big boulder out front, but it would have to do — It wasn’t the best tent spot, thanks to that big boulder out front, but it would have to do

It was 6pm, and I had hiked nearly twelve hours that day. I climbed about 3700 feet and descended 2300 feet in 15.3 miles. Not a great “average mph” score, but that result also included breaks for snacks, for photo taking, for fishing, and for water filtration. And I still had plenty of time for more photos, and to make dinner before sunset.

I took pictures both east and west. Volunteer Peak was tomorrow’s dominant mountain of the morning, and the Sierra Crest was back behind me to the east. I opened my PeakFinder Earth app and it showed me that I finally managed to get a view of Matterhorn Peak! Oh, yes! It was off in the distance, but it was there. To think that I once climbed it! Great memories, indeed. With that insight, I texted Vicki via my InReach satellite device and let her know that I could see it from here. She’d get a kick out of that, even if it was merely to be thankful she wasn’t up there right now. It had been a tough climb, and the word “Up” is not one of her favorites.

View back to the east (technically south on the PCT) from Benson Pass — View back to the east (technically south on the PCT)

Zoomed-in view of Matterhorn Peak, the northernmost peak in the High Sierra - I climbed it in 2013! — Zoomed-in view of Matterhorn Peak (dark, left of center), the northernmost peak in the High Sierra

The tall distinctive peak on the left is Volunteer Peak (10499 ft), off in the haze to the west of Benson Pass — The tall distinctive peak on the left is Volunteer Peak (10499 ft), off in the haze to the west

Then I retired to my tent. No other hikers came by, which wasn’t all that surprising. Most of the NOBO (northbound) PCT thru-hikers had already passed this spot a month ago. I sat down on my air mattress in the shade and cooked up my lonely ramen noodle dinner, as usual. I updated my notes and got dressed for the night. Tomorrow was planned to be a sixteen mile day, with more down than up, but it was still part of the Yosemite Washboard, and would probably be a tough day. I set my alarm for 4am, and slept like a log.

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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