SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS, CALIFORNIA
JOHN MUIR WILDERNESS
MATLOCK LAKE
AUGUST, 1996
Saturday August 10, 8:20 am
Yesterday, my faithful dog Katy and I hiked up the
Kearsarge Pass Trail out of Onion Valley to Flower Lake. As
this was my first backpack for the season, it was a little
difficult for me. I haven’t hiked in the Sierra
Nevada Mountains since Bob and I did Mt. Whitney in 1993.
In fact, the last time I had my backpack on was when Mark
and I were in the Grand Canyon in 1994. Far too long to
have not seen the light play upon the granite cliffs
I’m facing as I write this.
Katy was eager to get out of the truck and start walking.
It seems that the two cattle grates we drove over on the
way up to the trail head were more than she could handle.
Scared from this and I’m assuming the elevation she
could see we were gaining, she tried to crawl to the floor
near my feet, hindering my ability to reach the pedals. Not
a good idea on a mountain road.
This was a hastily put together trip and unfortunately
doomed to be short. Arriving in Lone Pine Thursday
afternoon, not knowing where I wanted to go, I stopped at
the ranger office for ideas. It was 4:45 and the office had
closed at 4:30. Posted on the inside of the window was a
permit availability list for Friday. Thinking Cottonwood
Lakes Basin would be a good destination, I noted that there
were ten permits available. Still not thoroughly set on
this, I drove north out of town with the idea of some
destination out of Bishop. Passing through Independence, I
noticed the sign near the center of town indicating the
road to Onion Valley. Having never been up this road, I
turned left and headed west toward the Sierras. Thirteen
miles later, I found myself at 9200 feet and looking at a
great view of the Sierra Crest. I decided to hike in from
here.
After a brief hike up the Golden Trout Trail, Katy and I
climbed back in the truck to find a campsite for the
evening. Obtaining a permit would come in the morning.
Halfway down the Onion Valley road, I made a right turn
onto Foothill Road, just below Gray’s Meadow
campground. Looking for a nice, quiet spot to spend the
evening, I continued until I came upon the Shepherd’s
Pass Stock Trail. Finding a relatively level spot to park
the truck, I popped up the camper top. As the sun quickly
set (was it waiting for me to get settled?), I made dinner
for us.
After dinner, I stepped outside and while enjoying a glass
of wine, saw several meteors and a few satellites pass
overhead. The Milky Way, bright as ever, once again had me
staring in amazement. I had never taken the time to notice
how much light was actually coming from the night sky.
Placing my hand over my white t-shirt, a distinct shadow
was visible. All the light of a billion stars, in various
stages of life and death, emitted light-years ago, was
falling on me. I gazed in astonishment, realizing my little
brain had discovered something new. Of course the wine
helped in this observation and understanding.
The next morning I drove to Lone Pine for a permit. No
problems were encountered. A quick stop at Joseph’s
Bi-Rite Market, and we were off. Once at the trail head, it
took longer than I wanted to put my pack together. I had
slipped ever so slightly out of my routine packing habits.
As usual though, I had a difficult time deciding what food
to bring along. Finally ready at noon, I locked the truck,
grabbed my third leg (my hiking stick), and walked toward
the trail head. Katy was quite ready to get started.
The trail was well traveled but maintained and easy, with
lots of switch-backs. Katy had no problem leading me,
making no mistakes when hitting a switchback. After about
forty-five minutes, we were both pretty tired. I stopped
for about fifteen minutes to rest. A few more switch-backs
brought us to Little Pothole Lake. It was 1:30. I led Katy
to the water, as she was only too happy to just lay thirsty
in the shade, and then made lunch for us. Salami and
crackers and a little trail mix I had bought at
Joseph’s. About an hour later, we continued toward
Flower Lake. We passed by Gilbert Lake, where I noticed a
group of young boys setting up camp. Glad I wasn’t
staying here, I continued on. Another climb brought us to
Flower Lake. I crossed the outlet, following the sign to
Matlock Lake. Seeing a nice big campsite on my right, I was
compelled to stop and remove my pack for a while. Katy was
pretty beat, as was I. We had only come a distance of two
and a half miles, but it felt like five.
I thought about staying at this campsite, even though it
was near the trail. After a rest, we walked part way around
the lake, noting that only one other party was camped here.
Looking up toward where Matlock Lake was, I wondered how
much further it was. I contemplated this for about an hour.
Finally breaking down, I put my pack on and headed up the
trail. Meeting a teenage boy coming down, I asked him how
far the lake was. He said five minutes. Five minutes? I
didn’t get that by looking at the map. In fifteen
minutes Katy and I were walking along the shore looking for
a place to set up camp.
Finding a good site on the rocks overlooking the lake, I
plopped my pack down and made camp. By now Katy’s
feet were dog tired. I scouted a bit, Katy faithfully
following me, pumped some water from the lake, and returned
to camp to set up the tent. I made an early dinner. I
wanted to have the camp cleaned and the food bag hung
before dark. Too many times I’ve been searching or
hanging a food bag after dark. I mixed some powdered beef
gravy with Katy’s kibble. She ate two bowls of this.
I had black bean soup mixed with rice, kind of like a stew.
Not bad. A cup of coffee topped the meal off.
While hanging the food bag, the ranger staying in the area,
Jason Barbeau, stopped by. We chatted for a while
discussing the ranger out of Bench Lake, near Kings Canyon,
that had been missing for a few weeks, and the bear
situation in this area. He said, as the ranger in Lone Pine
had told me, that bears were very active here. He said they
had gotten pretty smart in retrieving food, even chewing
off branches that had bags draped over them. He suggested a
bear-proof canister as the only sure way of protecting your
food. I asked him about Bench Lake above Matlock Lake. He
suggested two routes. One scrambling up the talus below the
outlet, and another following a faint trail along the
ridge. With this he was off to finish his rounds and return
to his camp on the other side of the lake. I finished
putting up the food bag and, sitting on a rock, watched the
sun go down over a ten minute period. I heard a few rocks
falling from the cliffs to the southwest. This culminated
with a large (I’m assuming, although I couldn’t
see it) rock breaking loose and creating quite a ruckus on
it’s way down, lasting for about a minute. With this,
I crawled in the tent, joining Katy who had already made a
nest on my down jacket. As I lay there, the stars were
coming out. It was 8:30.
I awoke at 2:30 to take a leak and get some water, and had
a difficult time going back to sleep. At 5:30, I noticed
the tent ever so faintly aglow from the impending sunrise.
I eagerly awaited the show. As always, it was spectacular.
Pale light to a golden glow, filtering through clouds in
the east, it changed continuously. I took several pictures.
I made breakfast and we then took a walk, exploring the
ponds and meadows below. Katy became ecstatic upon
discovering flowing water in the meadows. This reminded me
of how playful she was a couple of years ago when Jill and
I took the dogs to Horseshoe Meadows. She ran all over the
place, flat out, jumping over and in the water. We played
get the stick for a while. I led us back to camp for
cleanup and writing these notes. The sun is out in full
now, and getting warmer, although a few clouds are
occasionally breaking the heat. Today? Don’t know.
Hike to Bench Lake maybe. Maybe hike out.
Saturday evening, August 10
I am writing this by lantern light, camped beside Taboose
Creek, north of Independence and off of highway 395. Katy
and I hiked to Bench Lake today. We roughly followed the
faint trail up the ridge between Flower and Matlock Lakes.
It took no more than forty-five minutes. We were the only
visitors there. Seeing a patch of snow on the west side of
the lake, I headed for it. We never reached it though. A
boulder field between us and the snow was too much for
Katy. The jumps were steep and wide, and her feet were
beginning to give out. We backtracked to the outlet and sat
for a while, sharing a Tigers Milk bar. For a long time, I
watched the sunlight come and go and eventually become
obliterated by the clouds. I decided to head down. In about
fifteen minutes, Katy found the way down for us. She is
very good at following trails, except for: 1) when
she’s tired and 2) when they become faint and my
added height enables me to see better. I suppose it’s
a natural instinct, but nonetheless she has it, and I
enjoyed watching her trace out the route. Perhaps
it’s part smell from others who have passed this way
before?
Once back at camp, it was now noon, so we ate. Salami,
crackers, a a fruit roll, some carrots, cookies - I pigged
out. Katy had some salami and crackers and then retired to
the tent for a while. Later she came out and plopped under
a tree, sleeping in a most unusual position. She was really
beat. I sat for a while and watched a crowd of perhaps
eight or ten people watching a couple of guys fly-fishing.
This was the Saturday crowd I supposed. There was also what
looked like a woman in the lake, fishing from and
inflatable raft. She (he?) had been there since 7:30 or so.
Seeing this combined with an earlier head count of
fourteen, I decided to pack up and return to the truck. I
hated to do it because Katy was really tired. Sitting here
now, I should have stayed another night. It was over one
hundred degrees today in the Owens Valley. Leaving at about
1 p.m., we were at the trail head by 3:30. This included
completely missing the trail from Matlock Lake over the
ridge to Flower Lake. I took a side trip to the little
unnamed lake east of Matlock Lake. Falsely remembering the
trail passing by here, I assumed I could reach it by
heading cross country up the ridge. I never found the
trail. No big deal I thought, I’ll just follow a
contour until we intersect it. Once on the other side of
the ridge, we encountered another boulder field. Katy was
not thrilled. We continued downward. Nearing the lake and
still in the boulder field, I was surprised to realize I
had missed Flower Lake altogether. We were just above
Gilbert Lake. Oh well, we had to come this way anyway.
Joining the trail, we made good time going down, Katy
leading the way, except for the stretch from Little Pothole
lake on down. Lots of people coming up, including a ranger
who I spoke to for a bit. By 3:30, we were at the trail
head. My plan was to drive to the Bristlecone Pine Forest
outside of Big Pine. That is until I discovered it was one
hundred and ten miles and the temperature here was
unbearable. A brief jaunt to Bishop for jerky, and I headed
south looking for a small, uncrowded campground by a creek,
eventually finding this spot. Other than the bugs
committing suicide in my lantern and citronella candle I
have sitting before me, it’s a nice place. It’s
cool now. Home in the morning.