“Are you sure that’s the right pass?” Lost shouted at me from the valley
I looked at my map, then look at the sheer cliffs above… I yell back “Yes, I am positive, come this way”
“NOooo”
That was the last time I saw Lost for the two days as he turned around to try a different way.
The two days on the High Route was some of the most eventful and surreal days I have experienced. Almost hitting the inreach after accidentally splitting up with my hiking partner, climbing over and down almost vertical rock, getting chased by mama bird and racing thunder over a high pass. It was a trip filled with beauty, fear and joy.
Below is the story of day one of the Sierra High Route.
Horse Creek Pass
Let’s skip the boring pre-hike and get to the exciting part. Lost and I got dropped off at Twin Lakes and started off in a good way by going the wrong way and fording a river. Soon enough, we were on a trail and started a hot climb following Horse Creek towards Horse Creek Pass. Soon enough, the trail disappeared and we were following faint trails and markers up the steep slopes and make some good progress. We bare.
At this point, everything was to expectation. Some steep climbs and bit of easy trail finding. Turns out, I had no idea what I got into.
We slowly meandered up the valley towards Horse Creek Pass and eventually got to see the last 100 meters of it. I was excited and nervous to see a steep half pipe of giant boulders and snow fields that led to an opening, the pass we are suppose to go through. With much care, we slowly started to walk up the snow, hoping to rocks as we can.
That’s when the thunder and the rain came. All of a sudden the sky opened up, rain poured down and war drums sounded in the distance. None of us said anything and we pressed on, not wanting to be at the top of the pass when the thunder hits. So we hopped from rock to rock, rock to snow and then back on rock again. Constantly trying to figure out the best way forward under we felt the ground beneath us flatten and slope down. Without much time to even celebrate the first pass of the high route. We started our descent down a snowfield.
Seems like as soon as we lost elevation and went into the meadows, the sky cleared up and the hot sun came out. I proclaimed to Lost, “seems like the sky is messing with us. Stupid hot when we are trying to climb, and then when we get near the top.. ” “Boom” Lost thundered. “Yea exactly.” I laughed.
Now that the rain died. We looked more closely to our next challenge, Stanton Pass, the one that is infamous for the scary class III climb.
For now, we moved over peaceful meadow, wild flowers and trickling creeks and actually enjoyed the sun and the easy terrain.
The Mishap and Seperation
Soon enough, the ascent began again and soon we were struggling to catch our breath. This is when things got confusing.
My paper maps and GPS tracks are showing a different approach up the mountain so I explained that either way works and we should just try to find our way up and it doesn’t matter which way we go. So I started to move up early on the left side of the pass, aiming for a flat section near the top then traversing over. I let Lost go his own way thinking it doesn’t really matter that we stick together, as long as we get there.
Turns out, this is where the miscommunication happened and he ended up waiting for me at the bottom. When I finally made it to near the top, I finally saw that he was still at the bottom, not up the pass like I thought he would.
At this point, the form of communication was screaming at each other.
Lost: “ARE YOU SURE THIS IS THE RIGHT PASS”
I look up, saw the last 10 meters of vertical wall and looked down at my map. “YES I AM SURE!”
“I’M NOT GOING UP THAT, I’LL GO TO THE NEXT PASS”
“THERE’S NO OTHER WAY, COME UP”
“YES THERE IS”
I saw on the map what pass lost is talking about and it did look reasonable. Tired of this shouting communications and exhausted from the climb, I said, “OK, MEET AT SOLDIER LAKE, SOL-DIER LAKE, GOT IT?” With a response, I turned my eye back to the problem in front of me.
Scaling the Crux
A crux in climbing is the most difficult section of the climb. I had no doubt this would be the most difficult section of this 27 mile stretch of the High Route.
Looking at this sheer dominating cliff that separated me from here and the other side of the pass. My instinct drives me to scale the easier look cliff higher up to the left to get to the top of the pass but then I would have to walk the Ridge to the lowest point to make the descent. Against taking the most obvious easy route, I decided to follow the instructions in the guidebook that clearly stated to go right and climb diagonal to the top.
This means a traverse of the steep scree right below the wall. After much effort and careful stepping, I got to the right side and to my surprise, found a faint trail. I looked up and immediately realized where I needed to go. The left leaning slabs of thick vertical granite with plenty of hand and footholds.
The last section of the climb. Class 3 rock climb to get to the top of the pass.
Knowing what I had to do, I took a deep breath and started climbing. Everything seemed to calm down and my mind was focused. Hand, foot, hand, foot. Few moves, then look up for the easier path and then a few more moves. I remember so vividly, the last few steps before I made it to the top, thinking to my self not to mess up the easy section.
The valley echoed with my scream of joy, lots of yelling and wooping as I sweeped my eyes onto the panaroma below. The incredible thing about passes is that at the top, a whole new world opens up. Like a video game when you unlock a section of the map (Yea I know that was the geekiest comparison.) Everything is brand new and beautiful, especially rewarding after the mentally and physically difficult climb.
Panaorma from the top of Stanton pass
The Down Climb
Turns out, I wasn’t home free. Not at all. The descent turns out to be harder than the climb up. I must’ve took the wrong way as a couple times, I definitely had to stretch my leg to reach a ledge below or smear hard against the steep rough granite. It was a relief to be at the bottom of the pass after a painstaking hour of careful movements and back tracking. Then after a long time of rock hopping, I ended up at the valley floor.
Angry Bird
The next challenge loomed ahead, but I didn’t know it at that time.
Walking on the meadow towards soldier lake. I pulled to a stop and stared what was in front of me. Oh cute baby birds! Tiny as a mini cupcake they bounced around with exuberant energy. I stood there watching, the little scene slowly filling me with happiness and oh gosh it’s… MAMA BIRD! The White Fluffy Fury came out of the corner of my eyes and shot loudly towards me.
You know how there’s a concept of fight or flight? Turns out there’s a third option. Cower. Because with two sharp sticks in my hands, I did neither, instead, I turned my back to it and cowered. Yes I cowered at the full fury of the white fluff who probably has only seen a dozen humans in her life time. She overshot me and ended up behind me. Now a human is between her and her baby.
The white fluffy fury charged again and this time I ran, away from the her and the baby. The WFF still gave chase, flapping loudly, seemingly jeering as she bounced in short flights towards me as I ran. “that’s right you oaf, stay away from my babies”
Probably will be scariest moment on the entire high route.
(sorry no photos, too busy running)
The Wait at Soldier Lake
View from the ridge above Soldier Lake
Exhausted, I arrived at Soldier and Lost is no where in sight. Also, I realized there’s no spot to camp as the lake is in a cirque with steep cliffs leading right to the lake. With the thunder rolling overhead and Lost nowhere insight. I was starting to get worried. I need to set up a shelter before I get wet and what happened to Lost?
The cirque containing Soldier lake
Thankfully, my first problem was solved as further surveying the lake, I found a grassy flat area. So I quickly set up my flat tarp and waited for Lost.
I was getting more and more anxious as the hours went by. It’s interesting how your mind starts to wonder when you sit around for too long. Wondering about possibilities and what could’ve happened. A few times, I found my hand hovering over the SOS screen on my inReach but then logic ruled over emotions and I knew I should wait.
Hunger eventually did provail and I ate my dinner blankly, watching the sun set over this beautiful alpine lake.
my inReach beeped and I found the message I was waiting for. Lost’s friend, who we stayed with before the high route, sent me a message saying that Lost borrowed a hiker’s inReach and messaged her to tell me he is okay.
The relief was almost palpable as all the emotions left me and I felt happy and sane again.
The sky is now crimson and orange, it’s colors perfectly reflected on to the mirror like surface of the water.
For the first time in that long day, I had nothing left to do other than be at peace.
In those moments, I forgot about the 17 miles ahead of me, the thunderstorms in the afternoon and the two passes and one mountain flank I had to surpass. The end of an oddly perfect and incredible day.
