From JMT mile 190.2 to 201.5 Total: 12.3 miles hiked 8/19
On the twenty first day of my John Muir Trail trek I hiked south from the Tyndall Creek Crossing campground to Crabtree Meadow and eventually camped at Guitar Lake, just below Mount Whitney.
The campground at Tyndall Creek was dead quiet when Keith and I woke up at 4am, our typical time. We both ate a hot breakfast and packed everything up in short order. Even “short order” takes about an hour and a half.
We had our headlamps on when we started hiking, although there was a bit of light in the eastern sky. We knew it would get brighter soon enough. The JMT headed south along Tyndall Creek, but it didn’t stay down in the bottom, it angled upward in order to leave the valley behind. Even though we were hiking at 11000 feet elevation, there were pine trees along the route. They liked the water near the creek.
Soon, we rose above the trees, still angling higher. The sun lit up the Kaweah Range in the west, while we remained in shadow. We took one last look north, back up the valley toward Forester Pass, where we hiked yesterday, and then we turned the corner and the view was gone.
We soon arrived up on the bare treeless ridge known as the Bighorn Plateau. Maybe bighorn sheep were spotted there in the past, but they were long gone now. Up on top was a shallow lake. Hikers sometimes camp there, and I even saw someone swimming there years ago, but I told Keith that it had no trout, so we wisely decided to move on. Meanwhile, we also got our first view of Mount Whitney. Of course, it helped that I had been here before, back in 2018 and again last year in 2024, so I knew its shape from the northwestern side. I got out my Peakfinder Earth app and showed it to Keith.
The sun struck us as we reached the southern end of the plateau, and the trail began to descend again. The next feature we would encounter was Wright Creek, which angled across this side of the plateau. We were treated to some fine views, and the sun felt good on our faces, as it was a cool morning, with a constant flow of air out of the south. At least it wasn’t as freezing as yesterday morning, but we were still heading into the wind. We saw a bunch of hikers camped near the creek. They were still thinking about cooking breakfast. Slackers. We waved hello, crossed the creek, and we were gone.
The next goal was to drop down into the Wallace Creek valley, and cross the creek. The famous High Sierra Trail went down through Wallace Creek on its way to the Kern Trench, which we could see to the west. Vicki and I hiked the High Sierra Trail back in 2020, during the pandemic. We had an awesome time, as the trial is super beautiful. There’s a reason why it’s so famous. Just like the JMT.
We decided to take a quick fishing break in Wallace Creek, which was known to contain small Golden Trout. Keith did some fishing while I hung out in the big campsite across the creek. He didn’t have the best of luck there, as it was more of a freestone stream through thick willows and brush, so he gave up after catching (and releasing) only one.
After that, we began the second climb of the day, out of the Wallace Creek Valley. There were a couple of switchbacks, but mostly the trail just angled up and around a broad ridge.
The trail mellowed out for a while, steepness-wise, until we crested the ridge. I named this crest “Sandy Pass” because just on the other side of it was beautiful Sandy Meadow. There were about five streams in this meadow, arrayed like fingers on the map, with plenty of grasses and flowers for decoration.
We left the meadow and hiked onward through a pine forest with plenty of sand and granite boulders. Within a mile, we arrived at the trail junction where the PCT continued south and the JMT headed east, toward Mount Whitney. I told Keith that, according to my trusty JMT Sierra Trout Fishing Guide, there was an excellent meadow further south on the PCT. There were plenty of Goldens in Lower Crabtree Meadow, but the problem was that it wasn’t on the JMT. There was another trail east from there, that rejoined the JMT, but if we went there we would be skipping about 0.7 miles of the actual JMT and hiking about an extra mile today. The fishing was good enough, and the JMT boring enough, that I advised him to do it. He thought about it for roughly two seconds. Then we headed for the meadow.
There was a big boulder and a perfect spot to take a break near the meadow. We set down our backpacks. It was about 10am. Keith grabbed his fishing rod and headed out into the meadow. He did his usual crawling stalk toward the edge, then flung the line and fly into the flowing creek. Bang! He pulled in a trout, and threw it back. A minute later, bang! Another one. This went on for over a half hour! Fish after fish was tricked, until finally, he snapped his fly rod! Yes, disaster had struck! He was a very sad fisherman, indeed.
But I didn’t know about that. I was hanging out by the rock and another hiker arrived. I knew I had seen him before, but I forgot where. We got to talking. He was heading south, toward Cottonwood Pass, and asked me about the campsites up ahead. I told him about the one that Vicki and I camped at, along Rock Creek not far from the Ranger Station. It had a great view of a meadow and also had shade from a big pine. If he camped with everyone else at Rock Creek, he’d be down in a pit within a dense forest of pines, with no view whatsoever. I told him that it was worth hiking an extra half mile to reach the meadow spot. He thanked me, and we talked about other things. I realized later on, when I was home looking at my photos, that he was the same person who recognized me as the author of hikingtales! The only fan I ever met, and I didn’t even remember him! Or ask him his name. I’m still sad about that.
Keith put away his broken rod and we picked up our backpacks. I wished my Unknown Fan goodbye and we headed up the trail, which followed Whitney Creek to Upper Crabtree Meadow. Along the way, we saw more trout in the creek. I told Keith to use my Tenkara rod. It was a bit longer (12′ vs 10′), but at least it was a rod. He proceeded to catch one right away. He decided that my line was also too long, so he swapped his line onto my rod, and then all was well. We still had three more days on the trail, and there were more trout ahead of us, so he should use mine. I told him that maybe some of his skill and luck would rub off on it and help me next year. He laughed. We both knew it would never happen.
We arrived at the upper meadow campsite and crossed the creek, back to the JMT. This was where PCT hikers had to camp. Their permit didn’t allow them to camp at Guitar Lake, unlike ours, so they had a 15 mile day ahead of them in order to summit and return. About 90% of them did it, too. Whitney was that good.
The two of us hiked on. The trail climbed steadily, and continued along above the creek. There weren’t many easy fishing spots. But that was OK, because we wanted to get to camp.
When we arrived at Timberline Lake, at 11000 feet elevation, we paused for another break. This lake was mostly surrounded by reeds on the northern side, but there was one good fishing spot that I used last year. We put down our packs while Keith caught a few more hapless Golden Trout.
We hiked onward. We still had almost 500 feet to ascend over the next mile or so, and it wasn’t going to climb itself. Timberline Lake was true to its name, because there were fewer and fewer pines as we left it behind, and the ones that remained were stunted and scraggly specimens. It isn’t easy being under snow for half the year.
It was still early in the afternoon, about 1:30pm, when we arrived at Guitar Lake. That’s the problem with getting up too early. You arrive too early. But this time we didn’t even get the best spots. Others arrived even earlier! We walked down to the shore and turned right, headed for the neck of the guitar. We found some spots and claimed them, then set up our tents anyway, even though it was too sunny. There were no trees up here at 11500 feet elevation. I checked my records and this was the highest campsite of the entire trek.
Meanwhile, we had plenty of time to kill. Mount Whitney was right there in front of us, even though the trail headed off to the south before climbing it. I went off and filtered three gallons of water from the inlet stream. I would not advise filtering from the lake itself as it is heavily camped and not everyone uses wag bags. In fact, I noticed that both this year and last, there were no wag bags to be had at the ranger station in Crabtree Meadows. In 2018 they had a tub full, and stated that they were delivered by helicopter. Whitney Portal had loads of them. Sounds like Sequoia National Park has really dropped the ball on this one. Or maybe they dropped a deuce.
While I filtered water, Keith submerged himself in it! He said the lake was mighty cold, being up this high, but he didn’t care. He was a very clean and happy man when he got out.
I found a bit of shade next to a tall boulder and read my kindle for an hour or more. It was a fine way to spend a High Sierra afternoon. Our old friend Chris and his hiking partner arrived, and they headed even further up the neck. He said that they planned to leave for the summit after midnight, so they could catch the sunrise from the top. Very romantic. But they were also going to go all the way down to the portal afterward, and spend the night in the backpacker campground.
Keith and I hung out by the lake after dinner. He caught a Golden after quite a bit of work. Maybe some of my bad luck and poor skill were still clinging to my fishing rod! Sorry about that, Keith!
Keith and I already had our plan readied for tomorrow. We were going to wake up at 4am, same as always. I insisted that there be light when I was hiking, because I always take so many photos, and my photojournal would only be a journal without them. Boring! The photos are what make it fun to read. At least I think so. Anyway, our plan was also to camp at Outpost Camp on the way down the east side. We would exit to the portal the following day. I was happy having one more night on the trail. Now that I was getting used to this lifestyle, I didn’t really want the trek to end. But home and civilization are powerful things. And finally capping off all that effort by standing on the top of Mount Whitney sounded like a great idea.
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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