This past couple days I was able to do an ultralight backpacking trek
through Desolation Wilderness near Tahoe. I had lofty goals of doing
several peaks on the Tahoe Peaks List
(http://www.randyfranklin.com/tahoepeaks/) but in the end I did 3 peaks:
Mt. Tallac, Dicks Peak, and Jacks Peak.
Since I decided to do this trip ultra-minimalist style I decided to leave
both the sleeping bag and the stove/potset at home. The temperatures were
decently warm enough to allow this approach but unfortunately bear
activity in the area necessitated the use of a portable bear cannister so
I wasn’t going quite as light as I hoped.
Friday morning after getting the requisite overnight permits from the
Forest Service I headed up toward Mt. Tallac on the Floating Island Trail.
It was a 5 mile easy plod up toward the summit and by the time I reached
the top there were already several dayhikers up there checking out the
great view of Lake Tahoe. I spent a few moments looking around for a
summit register but, amazingly give the high traffic, I didn’t find one. I
decided to take the Floating Leaf Trail down to Gilmore Lake with the
intention of taking the Pacific Crest Trail up to Dicks Pass and then up
to Dicks Peak. Everything went according to plan and I was even able to
purfiy up some water at Gilmore Lake. Heading up on the PCT was a long
dry hike but when I reached Dicks Pass I was awarded with some great
views of the Wilderness.
Once at the pass it was due west toward Dicks Peak. This is where it
started to turn into the nasty talus/scree that I would be dealing with
for the rest of the day. Dicks Peak had a minimal trail moving up through
a Class 2 section and after climbing through that I was soon at the top. I
hung out for a some time and looked through the summit register entries.
Dicks gets very little traffic and I was hoping to be the “July” entry so
I was slightly disappointed to see that someone had been there that
morning!
Anyway, it was probably 3 or 4 in the afternoon by the point and here is
where it started to get interesting. Jacks and Dicks Peak were connected
by a long ridge and it has been reported that this is a fun hike between
the two peaks. This was not very fun for me. I’m not sure if the heat was
getting to me or if I was getting worn out on the endless fields of talus
but whatever was going on I was really dragging on this section. Once I
got closer to base of the upper slope of Jacks I dropped my pack with the
intention that this peak would be an out-and-back. I headed up the slope
and the route turned quite vertical very quickly. It was reported that
there was a Class 2 route up Jacks but the only doable section I could
find seemed much more difficult (Class 3-4) but I think I was just
spooking myself out. Anyway, by the time I got to the top I did a cursory
glance around for a summit register but didn’t really stop for anything. I
couldn’t go down the same way I came up; it was way too dangerous. So I
spent the next hour or so sliding down a nasty scree and talus slope. This
was precarious but doable and finally I was back to near the ridge near
where I dropped my pack.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find my pack.
This where things got extra interesting. I remembered setting my pack
near an dead bristlecone pine tree. At the time it seemed like such an
obvious landmark but as chance would have it I didn’t really notice that
there were multiple bristlecone pine tree around the whole area. My pack
was my lifeline for food, water, and warmth so to be without it in the
early evening leaved cause for concern. I wandered around from tree to
tree and to this random shrubbery and so on but I couldn’t find anything.
I stopped for a bit to rest and think. I traveled halfway back to Dicks
Peak to retrace my exact route but I didn’t find anything. I ascended
partly up the bottom of the Jacks Peak route to see if I could see
anything from above but that didn’t provide any solutions either. I was
really getting frustrated, thirsty, and hungry at this point and the sun
wasn’t getting any higher. Part of my mind was already thinking about how
I would get through the night without my gear and dealing with logistics
upon return to my car (my car keys and identification were in my pack). I
think a couple hours had gone by when I just randomly stumbled across the
pack. No fan-fair, no ticker tape parade, just a simple “Well, that’s
good” celebrated the finding of my pack. I grabbed everything up and had
to move quick because I had to descend to the valley before the sun really
went down.
The descension was rough because it was a strange mix of vegetation,
rocks, scree, and trees. It was terrain that was impossible to come up an
efficient strategy for maneuvering through. On the map the slope looked
more gradual than it felt and as I headed down I made a mental note to
double-check the contour interval the next time I plan a cross-country
route.
The valley, named China Flat, was the location of the source of the
Rubicon River. It was also home to some very green and wet marshlands
which, in turn, turned out be the home approximately one billion
mosquitos. The mosquitos were a relentless force of bloodsucking shock and
awe. Seriousy, the United States military would do well paint these little
creatures red, white, and blue and let them loose against the insurgents
in Iraq and Afgahnistan. These things would find Osama bin Laden no
problemo.
Anyway, this was where I had planned to camp and for awhile I resigned
myself to my fate. It was already mostly dark by now and I found a rocky
granite section near the Rubicon River to set up camp and eat food. I was
getting bit a hundred times over and every so often I would shuffle my
t-shirt to see multiple mosquitos dart off and then return seconds later.
In an effort to deflect the mosquitos I ended up taking mud from the river
bank and rubbing it over all exposed skin to create a barrier from the
bloodsucking. This actually worked until the mud dried up or flaked off
however it wasn’t a final solution.
After I grabbed enough water to re-hydrate my instant meals and fill my
water bladder I decided that there was no way I could last through the
night with these things. I was going insane. I decided to pack up my stuff
and head for higher elevations where hopefully colder temperatures and
windy conditions would ward off the mosquitos. I donned my headlamp
and jumped onto a trail that ran through the valley. The mosquitos
followed along even as I sped up along the trail. Along with this came my
usual bear paranoia that accompanies me on these solo adventures as I
travel after dark. In order to avoid any potential bear encounters I tend
to make a lot of noise and in this case I had jingles from television
commercials in my head. I started feeling sorry for anyone who came across
this weary trekker with red bumps all over his face, a distraught look in
his eyes, and chanting “Get a little closer with Arrid Extra Dry!” over
and over again.
I head north through the valley and in my frantic jaunt I hoped not to get
lost at night. I had to do a couple river crossings which were more
annoying and cold than anything and then finally I stumpled across
Rockbound Pass Trail. This trail headed up west into higher elevations and
would set me up well for a possible attempt on Red Peak and other peaks in
the Crystal Range the next day. Finally as I climbed higher and higher the
temperatures cooled and the mosquito onslaught eased up. I could finally
rest. After eating my instant meal and finding a suitable location away
from camp for the bear cannister I slept hard.
The next morning I knew my trip was over. No more peaks. I was spent and I
was still fifteen miles into the backcountry. I spent some time preparing
breakfast of instant chili mac and oatmeal and water. I decided not to
bring a stove or potset on the trip to save weight and I think this was a
good decision. Eating the instant meals cold is very doable and not as bad
as I was expecting. The “Chicken and Rice” meal I had for dinner the
night before was relatively decent but the “Chili Mac” wasn’t too great.
The noodles don’t rehydrate very well unless they are placed in boiling
water. I made a mental note to keep this in mind for future expedition
adventure racing.
A similar test of my sleeping system worked out well. In lieu of the high
summer temperatures I decided to go without a sleeping bag. Instead I took
sleeping pad, bivy sack, silk bag liner, and an emergency space blanket.
This actually kept me relatively warm in the low temperatures (35-40
degrees at the elevation I was at?) and if worst came to worst I would
stuff the bivy sack with pine needles and dirt to improve the insulating
properties.
The next morning I really didn’t get moving until around 10:30am. I
checked out the maps and decided the best way to get out here was to go
through the China Flat valley (yes, the mosquitos again), over the top of
Mosquito Pass (aptly named), down to Lake Aloha, and then over to the PCT.
This would set me up for going up and over Mt. Tallac and then finally
toward Lake Tahoe and the car. This avoided the move elevation changes and
actually visiting Lake Aloha was worth it. I ended up having to grab water
at Aloha and then moved on towards Gilmore Lake. I had seen relatively few
people during the day until I neared Gilmore Lake which was the
destination of several day-hikers coming up from Echo Lakes. Seeing the
people was a nice change of pace and the silent competition of trying to
beat them up the next random hill increased my trudging pace.
Finally, I got to the start of Floating Leaf Trail and has to begin the
long ascent up to Mt. Tallac again. This was long and arduous and I was
getting tired of eating the energy gels I had brought along. At this point
it was five more miles back to the car but that seemed like it could’ve
been twenty miles. Near the top of Tallac I had made the decision not to
grab the summit for the second time and just rejoiced in the fact that it
was all downhill from there. Even though my feet were feeling like
blistered lead I hastened my descent off the hill and finally reached
Cathedral Lake (the halfway point between Mt. Tallac and my car) around
4:30pm. A couple more miles later and I was back at the car. The feeling
that you get when you come back to your car after days in the backcountry
is the best ever. I’ve come to learned appreciate civilization sometimes.
All in all, even with the frustrations of dealing with insects, losing my
pack, and not being in good enough shape to head onto more peaks I think
it was a good trip. I was able get in a lot of mileage (approx 32 miles),
three peaks on the Tahoe Peaks List, and I got to tweak my ultralight
systems. I did use my new Salomon Raid Race 300 pack and I’ve determined
this pack isn’t good with loads over 10-15 pounds. The way the pack is
designed the sternum strap pulls more on the left should than the right
shoulder. This makes for an uneven discomfort placed on the body.
Hopefully the next version of the Raid 300 pack will solve these problems.
That’s it! Possibly next summer I will make another trip to Desolation
Wilderness to top out on the rest of the peaks. More adventures to come!
The end!
