From JMT mile 180.3 to 190.2 Total: 9.9 miles hiked 8/18
On the twentieth day of my John Muir Trail trek I hiked up and over Forester Pass, the highest pass on the trail, and descended to a campsite at the Tyndall Creek crossing.
It took us a little longer to get going that morning, mostly because it was freezing cold. Almost. In fact, Keith’s digital thermometer claimed that it was 33 degrees! And there was quite a steady breeze blowing directly down the canyon, thus increasing the wind chill significantly. Did I mention we were heading up-canyon? Yes, directly into this freezing breeze. I decided, wisely, to leave my merino wool base layer on underneath my hiking pants and shirt. I also added my goretex wind layer on top of it. Plus my wool hat, and my gloves. And this was to hike uphill, which typically generates a lot of heat. I expected to have to remove some layers right away, but it didn’t happen that way. We left camp just before 6am, and hiked using our headlamps. There was alpenglow on the distant peaks, like Junction Peak near the pass, but it was dark down here along the creek.
All told, we had to climb about 2700 feet over the next five miles, then descend 2300 feet over the final five miles. The trail was mostly smooth, but there were a few spots with stone steps up in the higher regions.
The sun rose, but it only illuminated the peaks on the west side of the valley. It did nothing to warm us down below. I did manage to break a sweat, and opened the zipper on my jacket, but that was about as far as I dared to go. It was cold!
After two miles, we got up near the 11000 foot mark, and the pine trees began to shrink in size. The concept of “tree line” isn’t very distinct in the High Sierra, because the presence of water makes a big difference. This is a California climate issue. The long snow-accumulating time of Winter has to battle the dry times of Summer, and the trees with water availability thrive better. Just the same, we left the thick forest behind, down below us.
After we passed the pond at 11,300 feet, the trees were gone. It was alpine tundra time, with small hardy plants and tough grasses here and there between the tumbled stones. The trail stayed on the eastern side, and it remained deep in shadow. We crossed a running creek a time or two, on raised, hiker-friendly pathways. The trail itself was well-made, and was mostly smooth and cruisey, so we made slow but steady progress. I only stopped to take photos, and not that often as I had to take my hands out of my pockets to do it.
We were somewhere near the 12000 foot line when we finally broke out into the sunshine. Hooray! It felt great, but the wind had yet to relent, and the air remained cold, as it was only 8am. Nonetheless, the sun made a big difference. Soon I was sweating for real, and something had to change. Now, the problem with wearing long underwear as a layer is that it is under wear. Which means that it doesn’t behave like proper layering. You have to strip all of your layers to get if off! I told Keith that I might be a few minutes while I changed clothes, and then found an out-of-the-way hiding spot around a corner. I put down my backpack and did what I had to do. I was wearing only one layer on my legs once again. And I put away the goretex outer layer, as well. I was back to being my normal self. Yes, it was still a bit cold, but I was ready for this.
The next section of the ascent entered a region of glacial moraine, piles of boulders and debris that were left behind after a glacier first advanced, then retreated. I was also impressed with the work the trail builders did. Walking over this terrain would have been a nightmare without their efforts. The trail also arrived at a very high glacial lake, up at 12250 feet elevation. This lake is unnamed, which is sad. Interestingly, there is a small cleared tentsite not far from the trail near the lake. A crazy place to camp. This is also the last chance to get water before the final 1000 feet of climbing.
The trail left the moraine zone and climbed up onto a sharp north-south ridge. The views kept getting better all the time, and Keith and I were really enjoying this climb. Was it long? Of course it was long, but the trail was great, and by now we could see the pass very plainly to the south. We knew exactly how far we had to walk. And our bodies had been existing above 10000 feet for so many days that we weren’t suffering from elevation issues at all.
We continued up the long switchback toward the pass. In the beginning I thought it might get there in one shot, but it managed to fail in the end, a few hundred feet shy of the top. There was some residual snow there, but none of it was on the trail. It was 9am, and we were almost at the pass! While we paused near the snow, the first of the northbound hikers began to descend. We asked him how the other side was. All he did was smile.
A couple of younger, faster hikers managed to pass us on the way up here. They were just in front of us now, as we zigged and zagged our way up the final short switchbacks. It was starting to get seriously real. We were going to summit Forester Pass any minute now. OK, maybe any five minutes now. But it was going to happen for sure.
There were a few hikers up on top when we arrived. It was another “Pass Party” in the making. Keith and I got out our phones and did some serious photo and video action. I took photos all over, in every direction, but I’m grouping them here in a different order. First, we have the views to the north, into Kings Canyon National Park.
Second, we have the views south, into Sequoia National Park. Of course, nowadays both parks are managed as one thing, known informally as SEKI, but the old boundaries remain. They are mostly watershed-based boundaries. For the most part, the Kings River is what Kings Canyon is all about, and the Kern River is Sequoia’s business. Yes, there are others, like the Kaweah and South Fork San Joaquin Rivers that complicate matters, but the general rule remains true. We were about to head into Kern River country. Goodbye Kings River!
The southern face of Forester Pass is truly a marvel of trail engineering. Lots of dynamite was involved in building it across the face of a cliff. The approach from the north was simply a matter of moving boulders out of the way. This side required blasting a path through solid granite. Keith took the lead, and there were some giddy places along the way. The High Sierra doesn’t bother with handrails; your safety is your business.
At first the trail climbed up and over a ridge to the west of the low point, then it did some very short switchbacks to get down lower. Eventually, it was decided by the maniacs who built this trail to cross over to the eastern side. I’m sure that there must have been a reason. But that meant crossing the steep “chute” below the pass. In the spring, the chute takes longer to melt because it collects more snow over the Winter. The rest of the cliff melts out fairly soon compared to the north side of the pass, which at least has a shallower slope. The chute, however, is always the sticking point when early PCT hikers arrive. Today, however, there was only a tiny bit of snow in the chute, way up high near the top. Life was good for Keith and I.
After the chute was done, it was mostly a matter of descending yet more steep switchback to the bottom of the cliff. It was about 700 feet down. Along the way, I kept taking tons of photos, and the views were great. We hiked and hiked, and reached the bottom by about 10am. It was still mid-morning, and we had less than five miles of easy hiking ahead of us! This was great.
I remembered last year, in 2024, when I hiked northbound on the PCT, I camped down there at the very bottom, so that I could climb it in the early hours and use my microspikes on the residual snow. That was a fun day, too. I’ve decided that I like Forester Pass very much, snow or no snow. It’s so satisfying.
After that, it was time for the long haul across the gently sloping tundra of the Tyndall Creek Basin. There was water flowing everywhere up here near the pass, thanks to all the now that melted earlier. Down lower it got a bit drier, and the grass began turning brown in spots, as the dry season progressed.
After a few miles, we got down below 11000 feet, and some pine trees appeared. We could see where Tyndall Creek flowed down in the bottom of the valley to our left. There was no more water up here by the trail, but we had plenty. And it was super-easy hiking once again. When we arrived at the trail junction to Lake South America, I knew that we were almost done with our hiking day. And it wasn’t even noon!
Let’s face it: We kicked major butt on that ten miles of trail, and we climbed over Forester Pass while doing it! Yes, we were Hiking Machines now. But hiking machines who wanted to set up their tents early, so they could spend their day fishing and reading and relaxing. There was a major campground for hikers at the Tyndall Creek Crossing. It was a natural campsite on the way to and from Mount Whitney. And we were the second ones to arrive. I couldn’t believe that someone else beat us here, but it turned out they came from the south. So that’s OK. We still had our choice for campsites. We picked a nice one, with good shade, not too far from the creek, and set down our backpacks to claim it.
We hung out and ate some lunch. While we did that we got to watch our water filter itself via gravity. All that squeezing nonsense that some hikers do is such a pain in the butt.
After that was done, we needed to get some fishing time in. Tyndall Creek was known to have both Brook Trout and Golden Trout, but all were of a small size, as it isn’t that large a body of water. This didn’t bother Keith any. It just changed his tactics and choice of which fly to use. We wandered up and down the creek, on either side. Keith caught both types of trout, but we liked the Goldens the best, due to their bright coloration.
We crossed back over the creek at the main crossing. There was a trail sign there saying that it was only sixteen miles to the summit of Whitney! That was the end of the trail. It was hard to believe that we were almost there. And then we headed into the campground and finished getting our tents ready. Other hikers arrived later on in the afternoon, and had to hunt for campsites. They were located all over the area, as Keith and I discovered earlier. There was a third tent spot in our little campsite, but we didn’t really want any company, now that both Bob and Sabrina were gone, so we carried a couple big rocks and set them down in the spot. That did the trick.
After that, we ate our dinner and hung out by the tents. Tomorrow’s plan was simple. We were going to hike to Guitar Lake and camp there. It was about an eleven mile hike but a few thousand feet of climbing. So we needed to get up early, as Guitar Lake was a crowded spot, and if we wanted a good campsite we had to get there sooner than the rest. It was going to be a solid day of hiking, in other words. And I told Keith that Whitney Creek was full of Goldens. He smiled and nodded. They’d be his Goldens soon.
For a topographic map of the hike see my CalTopo Page
For LOTS more photos of the trek see my Flickr Page
<< Back to Day 19 Onward to Day 21 >> 
hikingtales.com 