Day 10: Silver Pass to VVR

From JMT mile 78.2 to 86.0 Total: 9.2 miles hiked 8/08

On the tenth day of my John Muir Trail trek I hiked over Silver Pass to Edison Lake with Bob and Keith, and then we took the ferry boat across the lake to Vermilion Valley Resort for some much-needed R&R.

We woke up quite early, in the dark, and got ourselves ready to hike.  We cut yesterday’s hike short by a couple of miles, so we had to make up some lost time.  We also wanted to make sure we arrived at the VVR Ferry in time to catch the afternoon boat.  Otherwise we’d have to hike an extra four miles.  No thanks!  Getting up early was easier in the long run.  Plus, it had the added benefit of letting us climb the next 700 feet to Silver Pass in the morning shade.  Very important.  I took a few photos of our view from camp, and then we started hiking.

We climbed up the first slope and arrived at Chief Lake, where Keith and I went fishing yesterday.  I pointed out Silver Pass to them.  It was directly above Chief Lake, at the top of a steep cliff.  That’s when I mentioned that we had to climb a few hundred feet higher, up and over a ridge, in order to get to the pass.  Bob groaned, even though he knew it was coming.  The pass looked so close, and the extra climbing seemed so cruel.  Such is life on the JMT.

Well, we made it most of the way to the high point before the sun rose high enough to strike us.  Luckily, the air was still cool, and it didn’t prove to be an issue.  We climbed and climbed.  I tried to get them to stop at the short side-trail to the best viewpoint, but they were only interested in hiking the trail itself.  Oh well.  The view wasn’t all that different from what we were already seeing.

I hate to say this, but they even ignored the short side trail to the Actual Silver Pass, with the view of Chief Lake down below.  These guys were smelling the aroma of hamburgers, I think, blown all this way from VVR.  Then we continued downhill to the south of the pass.  It was easy hiking, and we had new views, with new mountains and new valleys.

Soon, we arrived at Silver Pass Lake.  This was where we originally planned to camp yesterday.  It was fairly shallow, and there was only one decent campsite nearby.  We all decided that we made the best decision yesterday.  I consulted my JMT Trout Fishing Guide and it said that there were Golden Trout in there.  Keith was still missing a Golden on his list of trout, so he headed over to the lake to give it a shot.  I warned him that it was too shallow when I tried it last year, and then Bob and I hiked on.  Keith would easily catch us later.

It was a smooth and pleasant trail below the lake.  Bob and I enjoyed the terrain.  We were heading below treeline, and the pines went from sparse to taller as we walked.  Keith caught up to us fairly soon.  He didn’t catch anything.  I told him not to worry, because soon we would be hiking along the North Fork of Mono Creek, and it was chock full of Goldens.  He perked right up.  Fishing a creek was more his style, and was the proper way fly fishing should be done.  Lakes were boring, even if the fish were often larger.

I told him that Silver Pass Creek was also known to have Goldens, but the flow was so slow it was almost dried up.  I was glad I wasn’t a fish in that creek.  There were a few pools still present in the meadow we found, but no obvious fish were present.  That didn’t stop me from taking photos of the meadow.

At the foot of the meadow were the glaciated granite slabs that marked the final drop-off into the North Fork Mono Creek valley.  If there had been water still flowing in the creek, there would have been a waterfall here.  Long ago, in the Ice Age, there was probably an Ice Fall here.  I was glad those days were over, and that Global Warming had done its job to make the High Sierra Beautiful Again.  The only good thing about that icy era was that there probably weren’t many bugs up here.  Right now, in early August, we hadn’t seen many mosquitos at all.  There were fewer flowers and less water late-season, but the lack of bugs was a plus.

After looking over the edge of the falls, it was time to descend into the valley.  The subsequent set of switchbacks were quite impressive.  Building them hadn’t been easy.  They were short and steep, and built into steps with cunningly chopped stones.  I decided that this set of switchback should be called the “Silver Staircase” since they led to Silver Pass, and were a smaller version of the Golden Staircase which climbed toward Mather Pass, further south of us.  They truly deserved a name.  Last year, I climbed them, and they felt like an accomplishment when I was done.  All we had to do was go down them.  Down and down and down.

Five hundred feet later, we were at the bottom, where the trail crossed the creek.  It was flowing fairly well.  There was a trail junction here, and we all decided to stop and take a break.  I got out my water filter and Keith got out his fly rod.  Boom!  Within thirty seconds he bagged a small Golden Trout.  He was pretty stoked.  This far, he caught one of each type of Sierra Trout:  Brookies, Browns, Goldens, and Rainbows.  If you can catch all four in a single day it’s called a Sierra Grand Slam.  I once caught them in ten days, which is exactly what Keith did.  Too bad it doesn’t really count, according to the rule.  But I can count it for myself.  Within the next fifteen minutes he caught at least a dozen.  He simply went from one small pocket of water to the next.  The trout were everywhere here.

Eventually, we told him that we had to keep moving.  He reluctantly agreed, but kept his rod in his hand.  There were other spots along the creek worthy of his attention.  Some spots were slow-flowing meadows, and others fast-moving water slides over smooth granite slabs.  Meanwhile, Bob and I kept up a steady pace, heading downhill.  Life was good along here, we thought.

We climbed up, away from the creek, and the JMT met up with the Mono Pass Trail.  Vicki and I hiked down that trail back in 2022.  That was the trip when I got the pseudo-grand-slam.  Good times.  The JMT headed back toward the north fork over some very large steps and loose boulders, which we hated, and then we rock-hopped across it to the other side of the creek.  We were getting very close now, and the hiking finally got easier again.

The trail led us down to the sturdy footbridge over Mono Creek.  We decided to take a break there, and eat a bit of lunch.  We had plenty of time to make the ferry, as it was only a mile and a half away.  Tomorrow, when we came back here on the ferry, we would be crossing this footbridge for real.  For now, it was a good spot for Keith to try fishing a bit more.  Supposedly, there were Brown Trout somewhere down at this end of Mono Creek.

After our break, we hiked down the Mono Creek Trail toward the turn off to the ferry landing.  It was low and swampy down here, where Mono Creek spread itself out over boggy land.  We had to step on logs or use wooden walkways to keep our feet dry.  This trail was nowhere near as well-maintained as the JMT.

We turned off on the short side trail to the ferry dock.  It was only 1pm, and the ferry wasn’t due until 3:45pm. so we had plenty of time.  We decided to sit around and relax near the shore of Lake Edison rather than hike the four miles to VVR just to save twenty bucks.  We took off our backpacks and chilled out for a while.

Keith realized that he had time to check his air mattress for leaks.  He said that it had been losing air overnight, such that he had to blow it up twice per night in order to stay off the ground.  Bob had a patch kit, and wanted to help, being an expert bicycle-tube repairman from when his kids were in Scouting.  So Keith blew it up and dunked it under the water.  Soon he discovered a leak.  One of the other hikers had a sharpie pen, so he marked the spot.  Then it was time to dry it out, which didn’t take long in the warm breeze coming in from the west.  Soon, the hole was patched.  Keith would have a chance to test it tonight.

We were all excited when we spotted the ferry boat arriving early, at 2pm.  What was going on?  It turned out that a guided group had booked the ferry for an extra run.  Once they were all aboard, Captain Paint asked permission to let the rest of us board, as long as we paid the same fee.  We were more than happy to go.  We’d have more time to take showers and maybe do a load of laundry.

Once everybody was ready, the captain gave us his usual safety speech, and then untied us from the floating dock.  It was a catamaran, so it moved pretty fast through the water.  There was a stiff breeze blowing directly toward us, but we didn’t care.  Within a half hour, we arrived at Vermilion Valley Resort (VVR).  We picked up our backpacks and headed up the hill.

While we were on the boat, Bob leaned over and told me some sad news:  He said that he decided to leave the trail here at VVR.  He said that he gave my advice a try, to not quit on a bad day.  He waited for a good day, but his mind didn’t change.  He was worried about the high passes that were coming up.  He also had some time constraints on the final date of his hike, as he had a family matter to attend on a particular date.  This inexorably led to pushing himself too hard.  I told him that I had a feeling this was going to happen, and that I had a suspicion that he almost quit at Reds Meadow.  He nodded in agreement.  I was still glad he hiked with us these last three days.  He also lived on the west side of the Sierra, so I wondered if it would be easier for him to get home from here.  He hoped so, too.

We just followed the others up the hill toward a nearby building.  We had no idea what to do next.  But that didn’t last long.  The staff was used to this level of confusion.  Soon, we got an orientation speech, and we were ushered inside the store.  We waited in line until we got to the counter, where she entered our trail names into the computer.  The way it worked was that we ran a tab while here, and paid when we left.  That seemed kind of backward to me, but soon I learned its wisdom.  For them.  People are much more willing to spend their money when they have no idea what the final bill was going to be, even if the prices of everything were plainly labeled.  I grabbed a can of soda, put it on my tab (which already had the $20 boat ride on it), and then we headed over to the “Mushroom City” campground to find a spot for our tents.

After setting up camp, we went to the store and got some shower and laundry tokens.  On our tabs, of course.  It seemed like everything here was ten or twenty bucks.  Mostly twenty.  Even the wifi cost money.  The only thing free was the campground, which cost them nothing.  I took a shower and handed Bob my filthy clothes, and wore my raingear while it got washed.  I found my friend’s name on the stacked logs from last Summer, Metal Tim, who headed here with his wife after we forded the South Fork San Joaquin River together.  I bought some wifi and sent him a photo of it.  I also called Vicki and we talked for quite a while.

After that, it was dinner time.  I was hoping for a burger, but it was Friday night, which meant that it was Pizza Night.  They fired up the wood-burning pizza oven and started cranking out pizzas.  Pretty soon everyone in camp was pigging out on pizza and beer, and life was good again.  Except for the dismal fact of Bob leaving us, of course.  Keith and I were sad, but we resolved to keep on hiking together, so at least we weren’t left all alone, as solo hikers.

After dinner, we went back to the campground and got into our night clothing.  It was a noisy camp, with too many people too close together, and too many of them had been drinking beer.  I know it sounds crazy, but I was glad that the generator would be running until 10pm, because it helped drown out the voices.

We all had our plans set for tomorrow.  Bob would be taking a shuttle to Fresno, and a train or bus from there, whereas Keith and I couldn’t really leave until 9am when the boat was due to depart.  This was a late start for us, but I told him that we’d hike as far as we felt like, and that there would be plenty of fishing along the way, in Bear Creek.  And then we went to sleep, on our final night as a hiking trio.

 

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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