Sequioa NP – Mineral King Valley Area – Great Sierra 7.11-13.03 Greg Walker Andrew Yue “I better see a bear.” And “Those little brown things better not touch the Golfy-Golf.” What better way to begin a trip to Sequioa NP. Two months earlier I would have imagined SNP having nothing but big trees which all these Asian families would “ooo” and “ahhhh” about, boring me to death. But upon closer inspection I realized the area of SNP and Kings Canyon NP had probably the most fascinating terrain to plunder upon – perhaps even topping Yosemite (gasp yes!). After bickering with my non-committal, wavering, and monkey-of-a-roommate about who would plan the trip, we decided to plan ourselves dead center of the Mineral King Valley area. This valley as we read, was famous for its plushous meadows, neighboring mountains, and marmots. As we prepared ourselves for the weather and hike by reading topos, calling the friendly ranger (Jennifer), and looking for internet pictures we had little expectations, not really knowing what we were about to embark upon. After winning the argument of leaving Friday night, we took off from LA around 8pm racing through an uncharacteristically- empty 405 to Interstate 5. We surprisingly made very good time reaching Visalia around 10:00pm and getting to the Mineral King Road 30 minutes later. Starting on the uphill, we noticed the growing mountains around us as we started on the 698-turn 1.5 hour road (we would later learn the local record was 45 minutes). This road included 30-some hair-pin turns and at points being just wide enough for one pick-up truck. The view of the valley became amazing as mountains grew almost out of no where. Greg made sarcastic comments on the cliffs immediately to the side of the road plummeting hundreds of feet (we really couldn’t tell) as I reminded him to keep his eyes on the road. We finally reached the Atwell Mill site about an hour later realizing we would be sleeping in the prescribed fire zone across the street – literally. Quickly setting up camp and dumping the food in a bear box we crashed for the night. The next morning we awoke around 7am to pack up and hit the ranger station around 8am. Arriving, we found ourselves to be 17 and 18 of the 20 quota person-limit for our trail head. As Greg filled out the paperwork for our 3lb bear canister, I scoffed at the newspaper articles about marmots chewing up cars, and one person who even drove half-way back to LA with a marmot under his hood. The drive to the trailhead was short as Greg and I joked further about, “yeah right, marmots.” Our laughter was silenced immediately as we passed by the first trailhead watching a very fat marmot drop out from under a Windstar. (Actually I continued to laugh at the thought of the Golf being chewed up). Upon reaching the trailhead, we changed as I smartly commented on how all the cars around us had either chicken-wire or tarp. We finally changed and geared up taking off at around 9am at 7800’. The hike up to the first trail junction was very scenic with waterfalls and trout pools as we gained close to 800 feet of elevation with great views of Empire Miff (the Ruins). Shortly afterwards, we turned east for the next set of switchbacks upon Greg realized that his brand spankin’ new hiking boots were coming apart. I should say his 10 year-old boots had rotten soles with the steel shank sticking out. After a rather impressive cinching job with some string, we continued on our way passing only a handful of people. After the next trail junction we started up towards the steep climb up to Chihuahua Mine encountering our first sight of marmots and deer (minus the parking lot). We took a break as the altitude tired us. After climbing the steep section to the ridge, we descended a few hundred feet to a luscious and steep valley with several beautiful lakes chained together with a small stream that started as a waterfall in front of us. We started our climb up the last 500’ towards Crystal Lake meeting up with three other hikers (who shall be hereon known as the three monkeys [for only having 2 quarts of water amongst all 3]). After the treacherous climb on the rocky trail, we swung right of a small hump along the path towards the dam. Out of no where appeared the crystal-clear Crystal Lake with a large concrete dam. Across the lake was a steep snowfield leading up to a steep cliff to the summit of the peak in front of us (over 12,000’). It was very windy so we started back-tracing the trail to the small junction that lead around to the left of the small hump we passed earlier. This trail led us down to the second smaller (but still quite large) lake. We rested here debating about which was the coolest tent-site. Finally deciding upon a near-water-and-between-the-lakes tent site, we setup camp, ate, rehydrated, and rested for about an hour. Watching some rather unembarrassed hikers skinny dip in the cool lake, we decided to quickly try for Mineral Peak before sunset. One thing very unusual about the Sierra’s for us that was new was that everything seemed so steep but yet not very tall or far away. Contrary to our high-altitude delusions, we found out that the short ridge to the shoulder of Mineral Peak was a strenuous hike/climb up despite our much lighter day packs. As we neared the steep section to the summit, the once-before impossible- looking stretch to the summit was now sketchy at best. We rested shortly as we watched and mocked the three monkeys slide down a snowfield with a 500 foot cliff below them on the NE side of Sawtooth. The climb up the peak was very intense, including mostly class 2 moves but it grew very steep. At one point, we almost decided to turn around as we neared the edge of Mineral’s north side with a 1000’+ drop if we fell. It looked like it required some class 3-4 moves. However, we found a much less exposed section as we started to head down that required some tricky class 3 moves with only 20’ of expose. The last scramble to the top was steep (the rocks were loose) and finally we made it to the top and signed in the register – glad we didn’t turn around. The hike/climb down was much less eventful as we were tired by now and looking forward to dinner. Upon returning to camp, I discovered that the marmots who had playfully been running around us earlier had entered into my tent (via opening the zipper with their teeth) to chew through my sandals. Half-amused Greg mocked me as we prepared our pasta dinner. We headed off to the small hump/hill to the south of us for sunset to catch the gorgeous site of looking westward at the smoke/haze filled valley as the sun set. It was a beautiful site to see as the dirty air created a plethora of colors. After a few pictures of hand-stands and Greg whining about being cold, we went back to camp and crashed around 9:30pm. The next morning we awoke around 5am to an oatmeal breakfast before heading up towards the ridge directly west of our camp to drop down towards Amphitheater Lake. As we approached the ridge, we grew nervous of how exposed we were until we realized the other side was even more exposed (ie cliffs). This also provided us views of the rest of the day’s hike ahead of us. From here-on there were no trails and Needham and Sawtooth now became a reality as we had only previously imagined what it looked like on the topo. Despite being very scared, we carefully descended the ridge around 7:30 am on the far side with some moderate class 3 scrambling being careful not to fall the steep 300 feet to lake as we traversed towards Needham. We took a break in a very luscious meadow, at the flat part of Amphitheater commenting on how we couldn’t believe there weren’t herds of deer hear. After some food and water around 9am, we decided to follow the trip report we found on the internet by someone named Stephane. From the lake, Needham looked very steep and impossible to climb, however the report indicated a rather easy scramble until the top so we headed for the sandy slope on the SW shoulder of Needham. Avoiding as much sand as possible (sand equivocates two steps forward to one step backwards). The altitude was bearing heavily on us as it took almost 1.5 hour to slowly slog up the 900 feet to the small saddle/ridge on Needham’s shoulder. From the ground the rest of the peak looked small but we still had over 700’ to go! Scoffing at the once difficult looking hike we had just done that we though had been an easy (well not easy but you get the point) class two hike, the mountain had a surprise for us as the slope became very steep. Near the top Greg and I got separated as I took the stupid/exposed/loose boulder/long way around a very tricky section, requiring some rather difficult class three climbing moves. It was more the mad exposure of 1000’s of feet around us. We finally climbed to a flat sandy spot whereupon Greg was not satisfied that we had not reached the summit. Exploring further, we turned west to do some more climbing to some very exposed area where Greg exclaimed, “You’ve got to be sh*tting me, I found the register.” As if whoever placed it was giving us the big four letter word, we had to (one at a time) climb up a small ledge about 15 feet high to the edge of a rock to reach the register. Greg dared to sit on top duly noting the edge of the mountain an arms length away. We both signed it and our nerves forced us to retreat to the flat spot for lunch. After lunch, we headed off back down towards Sawtooth at around 12:30pm. We figured Sawtooth around 2:30, and camp by 4. Well, instead of following my gut instinct of enjoying the sandy slope all the way to the bottom and then traversing towards Sawtooth, I followed my expert orienteering bud and instead very slowly traversing about 900’ above the basin – at times class 3 scrambling again. Despite the route being scenic, we eventually were forced to only 2-300’ above the basin because the rocky slope had become too steep. By now, we were both completely out of water. Sawtooth seemed to tower over us (again it had seemed small from Needham, but by now the peak was so far away) as we slowly traversed and climbed towards what we earlier saw as a nice gentle slope to the top. A hiker standing at the peak provided some moments of inspiration, but we were both very tired and thirsty. Nevertheless, we continued on up the increasingly steep slope bypassing some snowfields as we humorously argued about what rock was the summit. As the climb steepened, it grew very very tiresome as we were both breathing heavily and resting every few steps almost out of breath. Near the top, we again became separated as Greg decided to take the long route around the left side of the summit. I being the efficient-minded one decided the shortest route between two points went straight up finding the cave Stephane mentioned in his report. By now Greg had already reached the summit as I was forced to stem and chimney myself up this cave and crawl through a hole. Again I had underestimated the class 3 estimates as I noticed the gaping caves formed by the massive rocks at the summit. We summited to gorgeous views and rested a few minutes as we took some more pictures before decided to head down as it was almost 3:30pm. As if I had not learned my lesson the first time (I even wrote in the register atop Sawtooth that I won’t “follow Biggins next time”), I once again followed Greg traversing Sawtooth slowly south as to not lose elevation. Eyeing the easy sandy slope down to the lake (which we SHOULD have taken) we again very slowly traversed the slope which Greg called the “fun and scenic route.” As we very slowly hiked/climbed around the increasingly steep rock (that included passing by some waterfalls), we decided that we had to go down. Actually we didn’t decide, we had no choice. We started to create some small but passable switchbacks down the steep slope including some 300 feet of butt-sliding. After about another 15 minutes of me whining about how stupid this was, we reached a small cliff about 20 feet in height which Greg began to down climb. Seeing that he is a whole foot taller than me and completely out-stretched down climbing it – I severely doubted myself being able to get down and wasn’t afraid to verbalize my fear. Greg responded that I could use him as a step. I reminded him that he was only half-way down this cliff which dropped down to a flat steep rock face that dropped into an even steeper snow field – neither of which would be good to lose control on. Thinking I was brilliant, I walked back uphill and crossed a medium sized waterfall and followed the water down. Grateful for the cooling effect of water splashing everywhere, it nevertheless mocked me of how dehydrated I was. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, for once my gore-tex gaiters worked to funnel water down my boots as the water poured in the top gap between my leg and the material. Not really caring because I realized that wet boots have absolutely no traction, I made some sketchy traversing moves down to another 300 foot butt-slide rock (after letting my boots dry of course). This led (for me) to small snow field which I was able to slide down barely controlling myself before smashing into the pointy spear looking rocks in front of me. But I didn’t care, I was FINALLY at the bottom. I traversed up a little ways and to the side to see how my expert orienteering friend (did I mention expert?) was doing. I watched as he finally reached the bottom of the small cliff, only to realize the small flat rock below him lead to a 200’ steep snow field which would ultimately lead to his death. He slowly traversed down the rock to the edge of the snowfield as I enjoyably dug out my camera and put it in video mode for entertainment purposes (or proof of how he died). He slid down rather controllably but not without slicing his hand up pretty good. We traversed along the basin and then started to climb back up the ridge we came from to get back home. By now, we both felt terrible as we were nearly completely dehydrated. We essentially took 3-4 quick steps up before resting for 30 seconds and repeating the process. Next time we bring a water filter I managed to get out in between my huffing and puffing. We finally traversed back to the ridge which was mad exposed – ending up with a nice class three 20 foot climb up a stemmable crack (but if you fell you would probably die). Happy as can be that I reached there, we quickly climbed over the ridge. Greg informed me that “water calls” and took off down the hill. Feeling like I wanted to just collapse and die, I slowly trudged back down finally reaching camp around 5pm. Greg informed me that he had already drunk 3 quarts (well, he actually didn’t even make it 10 pumps before saying , “screw filling this up, I’m drinking it now.”) The quart waiting for me was like candy to a sugar-oppressed child as I managed to very painfully down 2 quarts. I felt like I wanted to vomit and die at the same time. I had a side-ache, my legs were tired, my joints ached, a killer migraine, chills, and nausea all at the same time. I didn’t want to move. Finally, after downing a most painful third quart and some food (a very important lesson I learned on my Pemi loop – the importance of force feeding yourself food and water), I headed towards my tent. To my surprise (and Greg’s mocking) the marmots had chewed through my tent screen door in 4 places. Apparently my preparation of moving the zippers to the top and putting my sandals and dirty clothes in the bear canister was not sufficient. I was really too tired to care as I elegantly reminded Greg that they probably chewed his car up. We packed up and headed down around 6pm. By now, the food and water had kicked in and I was feeling a lot better. We headed down towards the valley as the sun began to set providing some gorgeous views of the valley and ensuing waterfalls. We made very good time and made it to the bottom in a short 2 hours (as compared to our 4 hour ascent to camp). This of course was accompanied by many comments such as “I definitely do not remember the trail being so long,” “How the hell do mosquitoes land on you while we are hiking so fast,” and “Greg, aren’t those furry brown things coming out of your Golfy- Golf?” We finally made it down around 8pm to chat with some locals. A nice woman allowed us to use her house to rinse our faces and hands. Greg nervously opened his hood as I inserted as many smart comments as I could in a short time. Luckily though, no marmot footprints were to be found. We changed and headed off down the windy road around 9pm dropping the canister along the way. We finally made it to LA around 2am thanks to 100+ mph dragster racing of a Mr. Miyagi in the Golf. Overall, I think this is the coolest trip I have ever been on (minus the chewed up tent and almost dying many times) Trip stats: Trailhead to Crystal Lake: 6.2mi and 3300’ gain (200’ gain/loss at the mine) Crystal Lake to Mineral Peak: 0.6mi and 800’ gain Crystal Lake to Needham Mtn: 1.8mi and 2000’ gain (plus 600’ gain and loss due to the Crystal/Amphiteather pass) Needham to Sawtooth Peak: 1.0mi and -1100’ loss, +1000’ gain Sawtooth to Crystal Lake: 1.4mi and -1300’ loss (plus 600’ gain/loss due to Pass) Crystal Lake to Trailhead: 6.2mi and 3300’ loss (200’ gain/loss at the mine) Net Trip Stats: Distance: 8700’ Elevation gain/loss: 17.8 miles Max elevation: 12,540’