Day 72 : The Sierra High Route Part 1

30th June 2013
Thousand Island Lake to Unnamed Lake
Mileage : 0 + 8
An adventure within an adventure, that's what the next 2 days on thwarting Sierra High Route were about. A fair few years ago, a man called Steve Roper decided all the trails he knew in the Sierra Nevada were too tame and frequented for his liking, so he set about traversing the mountain range 'hors piste', and  his most favourite route became known as the Sierra High Route, or sometimes just The Roper Route. Where the JMT and PCT are well designed, well signposted and well maintained trails, the Sierra High Route is pretty self explanatory, it traverses the entire length of the mountains range from south to north, it stays almost entirely above the timberline at about 10,000ft apart from several small linking sections, and is just a route drawn on a map. It avoids wherever possible all traces of human existence. It crosses seldom visited valleys and basins, skirts lonely lakes and meadows, and traverses some of the most infrequented terrain in the entire mountain range. Although several hundred miles in length in all, the section we were to attempt was a short 15 mile stint travelling almost due west across the Ritter range from Thousand Island Lake to Blue Lake Pass, just below Foerster Peak, which marks the easternmost boundary of Yosemite National Park before dropping down to the Merced river valley which eventually leads into Yosemite Valley itself. I had planned to do this from the beginning of my hike, had done all the appropriate research, and had all the maps and guidebook information needed to do it. The only thing missing were other people with whom to do it. Undertaking such a venture alone would have been foolhardy, reckless and irresponsible, but during the 900+ miles leading up to the present i had been unable to persuade anyone to undertake it with me, that is until i met up with Chick-Chack and Starfox the evening before. Were it not for my parlarva with my sunglasses, we wouldn't have crossed paths, but the evening before i had told them about it and they seemed very keen indeed, so off we went.
The route began with a steep ascent up a snow field up to North Glacier Pass, our entrance into the basin we'd be traversing over the next 2 days. Given the low snow year, none of us had ice axes or crampons, so the going was slow as we made our way up to the top. Snowy passes are always best crossed in the early morning when the snow is still hard and hasn't turned to mush, as is the norm in the high and bright Sierras. Although a steep ascent, we reached the top in no time at all eager to see what the view would be of the other side. It is suffice to say it didn't disappoint. On the other side of the pass was Catherine Lake, a high mountain lake being fed by melting snow fields all around, and by a glacier which had filled the lake with dozens of small icebergs. The lonely lake, though substantial in size, was sheltered from the sun to such a degree by the surrounding mountains, and in particular by th very imposing Banner Peak directly above us, that it had an icesheet that covered a good portion of the lake, and which was drifting gently across the surface being driven by the morning breeze. I have never seen anything quite so beautiful in all my life. It amazed me to think that of the hundreds if not thousands of hikers on the JMT not 5 miles distant, only a handful, perhaps less than a dozen, would get to see this lake in any given year. After taking in the view for a good while we started our descent down to it, which required our first talus traverse. Talus is the term given to the huge expanses of rock debris that accumulate at the bottoms of cliffs. Talus rocks are loose and jagged, and require a lot of time, effort and concentration to cross safely. There would be a lot of them during or high route caper, and thankfully all were negotiated safely. I was the first down to lake shore, and while waiting for the other two, couldn't resist a lightning dip in the iceberg filled lake. 'Cold' doesn't even begin to describe the temperature, i can't have been in the water for more than 10 seconds, and that was plenty.
On the move again a short while later we followed the creek  flowing out of the lake downstream periodically traversing snow fields that sometimes even encased the entire stream. Before long we had to undertake a series of steep descents which the guidebook described as 'class 2 or 3 scrambles resulting in anxious moments for the novice backpacker'. It was at this stage that i realised that Chick-Check was really struggling with her leg. She had injured it a couple weeks back and had pushes on up the trail determined not to let it end her hike. In the last couple days she had said that it was getting better, and as she kept up the day before i assumed it was at least manageable. On the scramble descent it became clear that what holds on the trail doesn't necessarily hold off the trail. Although she persevered, and completed the route with no major dramas, had i known it was that bad i would have attempted to persuade her not to come. However, Chick-Chack soldiered on and by the middle of the afternoon we arrived at a major river crossing. The guide informed us that there was no other option but to ford it, so that's what we did. The river itself was short, about 15 metres in length as the water flowed between a lake, and a roaring waterfall. Once again thankful of the low snow year in we went in succession crossing with relative ease with the water not coming higher than our waists. Another 2 hours after that we were sat above another picture postcard mountain lake setting up camp after an incredible day in the mountains, and with another to follow.

Either Chick-Chack or Starfox illustrating the scale of the snowfield

Starfox and Chick-Chack by Catherine Lake

Chick-Chack on a snow bridge

The cascades just below the river crossing

The cascades are just to the right out of shot