From PCT mile 1029.2 to 1042.7 Total: 13.6 miles 8/12
It was the 36th day of my PCT Sierra Section trek, and today I was hiking with Metal Tim and Little Engine, northbound from White Canyon and the East Fork Carson River through rolling hills, valleys, and cow pastures, along Golden Canyon and Wolf Creek Pass, to camp at Asa Lake.
I woke up later than usual, more like 5am than 4am, because I knew my partners weren’t as crazy as I am. Also, we only had a fourteen mile day planned, and the terrain was easy in the Carson-Iceberg Wilderness. No big passes to summit, just easy hiking with a bit of up and down in alternating measure.
One perk to being high up on the rim of a canyon was that our tents were dry. No need to carry a heavy, soggy, dripping mess of poorly rolled-up nylon. Or dry it out later on. We ate breakfast as usual, and then I started packing. I didn’t want to be the laggard, after all. It was about 6:30am or so when we finally headed out. It looked like we were going to have excellent weather.
Generally speaking, this day’s hike tended toward the northwest, and tended to follow the Pacific Crest itself, alternating from one side to the other. On the east side we hiked in the Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, and on the west the Stanislaus National Forest. The Carson-Iceberg Wilderness spanned all of it. We began on the east side, above one branch of the Carson River. Somewhere on the other side was an outcropping called The Iceberg which looked down upon Iceberg Meadow. It sounded nice, but we weren’t going anywhere near there.
Instead, the trail did a number of ups and downs as we gradually left White Canyon and the East Fork behind us. As we hiked, we were treated to fine views south toward both Sonora and Stanislaus Peaks, where we hiked yesterday.
It took a couple of hours, but eventually we topped the longest climb of the day, and there before us was Peak 9501, obviously of volcanic origin. It seemed to be a big pile of basalt chunks, somewhat like the Devil’s Postpile, but not so neatly arranged in columns. Just the same, it looked like it formed relatively recently, and it wasn’t made of the boring agglomerate we’d been hiking through recently. Then we hiked past a nearby swampy meadow, and continued along the crest above a dry slope covered in Woolly Mules Ear plants. They were very common up here in the northern Sierra, it seemed.
After that, we crossed the Pacific Crest onto the eastern side, and took in views of Golden Canyon, whose creek drained into the East Fork Carson River. Up at the head of the canyon was Disaster Peak (10046 feet), but it didn’t look very disastrous to me. Golden Canyon was pretty, adorned with grassy meadows and brush. The trail stayed relatively level as it made its way around the bowl at the upper end.
It was warm in the sun but there was a decent breeze blowing. The lack of trees made for good views. And the trail was smooth and cruisey. All in all, good hiking. Eventually, the trail climbed up and out of the canyon, and we came upon a very odd formation of white rocks. They weren’t granite, but were soft and powdery, more like some strange salty exudation you’d expect to see in the desert. Well, I’ll probably never find out what it is, but I’m still curious. I’d wager that it was volcanic in origin.
Over that saddle, we entered Murray Canyon, also known as the Canyon of Cows. I named it, so you won’t find that on the map. But the cows sure were happy! There was plenty of grass and green plants to munch on all over the place. There was also another one of those basalt volcanos, and this one looked much more columnar. Nice. It was right next to the Wolf Creek Trail junction, which we didn’t take. It led down to Wolf Creek Road, and possibly even Civilization. We wanted none of that!
As it turns out, the Wolf Creek Trail is nowhere near Wolf Creek itself. We had quite a bit more high meadow hiking to do before we met the creek. Along the way, just tooling along the trail, Metal Tim spooked a formerly-resting herd of cows. I was behind them, and I suddenly heard the drumbeat of hoofs. Dust clouds were rising, and cows were running helter-skelter all over the place. I shouted “Burgers!” to help them run even faster, then got out my phone for a video, but I missed most of the main action. After things calmed down, and no angry bulls showed up seeking retribution, I hiked past the less frightened animals. They eyed us suspiciously from the sidelines. For good reason.
Now that the cattle rustling was finished, we traversed along the upper slopes above Wolf Creek. Lots of taller plants were plastered down on the ground, presumably by cattle resting for the night, or by simply getting trampled. “The sheep’s in the meadow; the cow’s in the corn” was exactly what it looked like. Cattle grazing was one of the ways that the national forests get money from the use of the land. They are part of the Department of Agriculture, after all.
By this time, we’d hiked about ten miles of our fourteen mile day. The trail descended into the deeper valley and crossed over Wolf Creek itself. There must have been a big rain event recently, as the creekbed was quite torn up. This made for a very steep climb to get out of the deep channel and onto the other side. It was doable by hikers, but I was hoping that the cows would feel otherwise. Because I’ve camped near cows before, and it isn’t all that great. Unless you like cow patties and fouled waterways.
We crossed back over onto the west side of the crest and headed toward Gardner Meadow. You’d never know by looking which side of the crest we were on. All of this region was rolling hills and meadows and valleys, it seemed. We kept our eyes out, but didn’t see a single cow. We saw some old rusty barbed wire, but no cows or patties. This made us happy. We popped over Wolf Creek Pass without a trail sign to tell us about it, and then we came to the wooden post indicating the side trail to Asa Lake. We were almost done with the hike!
The PCT made a traverse to the northeast, almost all the way around Asa Lake, whereas the side trail went right to the lake itself. The two springs on the Far Out app were located between the lake and the main trail, so why not check out the lake first? It wasn’t very big, as far as lakes went. More a shallow pond, surrounded by reeds. I kept my eyes peeled for the telltale signs of trout rising to the surface, but no such luck. This thing was probably too shallow. I made a “fishless” notation in my constantly-evolving PCT Trout Fishing Guide. Oh well. You can’t fish them all.
Metal Tim went on a campsite-seeking expedition, since lots of good spots were mentioned in the app, which only showed water icons (springs) rather than campsites. Little Engine and I climbed up to the other spring, and discovered the campsites. We called Tim over and soon we were choosing spots under the pines. There was a view, of sorts, through the pines to the lake, so it counted as decent, in my book. I like a camp with a view, but shade is nice, too. And it was still only 4pm, and sunny. We put down our packs to claim the spots, then headed down to the spring for water. This spring was literally gushing out of the hillside into a rocky channel, which led toward the lake, and flowed away to join Elder Creek. Good cold clear water. Just the way we liked it. Unlike last night’s trickling swamp water. Then it was time to set up the tents.
Since it was still sunny, we found some nice spots on the lakeshore and hung out for a while. Tim and I brought out our Solar Panel battery chargers, and hooked up some electronics. Make hay while the sun shines. It didn’t take but an hour and my phone was back up in the good zone, and I added a bit more to my big battery, as well.
We yakked about our plans for the rest of the Summer, and they invited me to meet them near Lake Tahoe, at Fallen Leaf Lake, where they had reservations for their big RV. It sounded like a good place to take a break on my way south from Donner Pass. It was good to have something to look forward to (besides getting home to Vicki) after my big trek was finished, as it was a twelve hour drive to San Diego. I had to go that way to pick up my two bear canisters anyway. I was sad that we would be parting ways tomorrow morning, as they were leaving the trail at Ebbetts Pass. I knew I could survive another week as a solo hiker, but it’s good to have company.
We cooked and ate dinner while sitting on a log looking out over the lake as the sun went down behind the trees. The air grew cool, and soon enough it was time to put on my night layers. Even down here, at 7700 feet, it got cold in the evening. We grabbed our gear and headed back to the tents. We said goodnight, and then it was time to send Vicki a text about my day, and to update my location and trail data in my notes and my CalTopo map. I didn’t bother to set an alarm, as I always woke up early anyway. I reflected upon the day, and realized that it had been pretty mellow. Except for the cow stampede, of course.
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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