GLS returns to the Sierras in style and comfort after years away due to COVID-19. This four-day mule pack trip was planned years ago, but was repeatedly postponed, until this August.
Dulcius Ex Asperis
(Sweeter After Difficulties)
By Anna Baum
For a few years now as we live in the shadow of COVID, we’ve increased our capacity to accept disappointment and loss—from trip cancellations to more serious losses that bring grief and deep change. During low-transmission periods we’ve re-engaged in happy pastimes and are filled with gratitude as doors re-open and we feel our freedom again. The August 21-25 mule pack trip to Little Lakes Valley led by Alan Schimpff was one such door.
The group of eight (two had to drop out last-minute), co-led by long-time GLS leader Jeff Bates, met in Bishop to stay at the Trees Motel. After a brief meeting that evening to review details about everything from bear safety to the new-fangled potty we would be using, we drove to the Bishop Airport to dine at Thai Thai Restaurant. The food there is so good that we joked about hiking out every night to eat there. Little did we know that Alan had sumptious meals planned for our evenings in the mountains that would keep us quite content in camp.
The next morning we were at Rock Creek Pack Station at 7 a.m. Fortunately the several pack stations in the Eastern Sierras stayed afloat during the lean lock-down years, and are now in full swing. The Rock Creek one is staffed by friendly, knowledgeable, helpful cowboys and cowgirls, and has the cleanest outhouse I have ever seen. The mules and horses seemed healthy and happy, made happier by the carrots brought by participant and veteran backpacker Doug Cable. We unloaded our camping gear, and drove less than a mile to the trailhead at Mosquito Flat to head up to Chickenfoot Lake, carrying only our daypacks.
Mosquito Flat is a popular trailhead, as many lovely day-hikes to alpine lakes begin here. We were hiking from about 10,200’ to 10,800’ where we planned to set up camp. Along the way we met many hikers of all ages: one couple shared they had done the JMT in the 1970s; one man had a young child in hand and a newborn strapped to his chest; a group in their early 20s bopped along in bikinis, laughing and enjoying the beautiful place we all shared. We saw many dogs throughout the trip, as both day-trippers and backpackers brought along their canine pals. In the dome of pure-blue sky with fluffy white clouds, we came across lake after lovely lake encircled with pine and quaking aspens, occasionally crossing Rock Creek, making our way along the valley surrounded by the spires, jagged ridges, and towering granite of the majestic Sierras.
Once we got up to Chickenfoot Lake, other hikers were seldom seen. We set up on our lakefront property—perfect weather, no mosquitos, no other campers around. It was a Sierran Paradise. Once the kitchen, dining room, shower, latrine, and tents were all pitched, we explored a bit and some jumped in the (very cold) lake.
Later we were treated to the first of four fantastic dinners planned by Chef de Cuisine Alan, who had somehow managed to bring produce and vittles as well as a cooler to keep them fresh. Everyone brought delicious hors d’oeuvres and desserts; Rita Hester even brought home-dried fruits and vegetables.
Several of the participants had decades of backpacking experience—Byron Cook, Rita Hester, Doug Cable, and Alan Schimpff; Byron also shared some of his search-and-rescue wisdom acquired over many years of doing rescues in Joshua Tree National Park. Our youngest camper, the intrepid Elizabeth Schimpff, showed her mettle as she accompanied Alan and others on a few cross-country adventures that included steep scrambles. Their adventurous spirit paid off, as they approached Treasure Lakes, Hidden Lakes, Dade Lake and Ruby Lake, often going in or out off-trail.
Michael Vilkin used the Gaia app to head out on solo adventures every day. He along with Jeff Bates and others all spent time at the nearby Gem Lakes, drinking in their deep peace at the base of granite cliffs, with a pristine brook running between them. One day most of us went up and over Morgan Pass, at 11,120 feet, and on to the sandy beaches of Lower Morgan Lake. Nearly everyone had spent a few days at high altitudes prior to the trip, helping to make such high-altitude climbs more pleasant.
Picas and chipmunks kept us company, and many birds grace the area. Trout flickered in the lakes. Wildflowers were everywhere, delighting in the moisture and sun of the brief season—Sierra Gentian and Pennyroyals were spied and even plucked and worn for their rich scent. Nights were magical—silent with fistfuls of glitter strewn across the sky, the Milky Way running down the middle.
The preparation and work that goes into a mule pack trip like this can’t be overstated. Much of the equipment had to be purchased. Alan researched and acquired for GLS excellent items that will serve us well or many years—from a light-weight two-burner stove to portable tables, water filtration systems, and shading tarps. The planning was amazing, with every detail seen to. The packing for the group had clearly taken much thought, time, and care. We had every tool and kitchen implement needed, every spice, even clips to hold down the table cloths on windy days.
After four nights, we packed up and headed down the trail, passing the mule train on their way up to Chickenfoot Lake to get our things. There was a feeling of deep satisfaction, that we had been given this awe-inspiring experience after two years of postponements and uncertainty. Everyone on the trip, especially those newer to the conveniences of mule packs and the TLC of GLS, frequently expressed amazement and appreciation during our days there; on the last night several were heard to say “Sign me up for next year!”
