July 2, 2020
- Start – Lake Fontanillis (mile 153.2)
- End – Echo Summit (mile 171.2)
- Daily Mileage – 18 miles
Yep, it’s my final day on the Tahoe Rim Trail. Last night’s campsite near Fontanillis Lake put us a mere 18 miles from where I started this journey at Echo Summit just nine days ago. Just a stone’s throw from the end. But, I’m has genuinely excited for all the alpine scenery we’re expected to see as we cross through the rest of the Desolation Wilderness today.
I think Finn is really enjoying this part of the trip too. He woke himself up around 3:30 am because he needed to pee, and when he came back to the tent he was filled with excitement. He woke me up just to tell be how many stars he could see overhead and how he was convinced he could see the entire Milky Way.
Yes son, I know the feeling. Seeing the clear night sky with thousands of pinpricks of white is a beautiful sight to behold. Giving you this new experience makes my heart warm, and I hope you develop a keen understanding of why I love backcountry hiking so much. The quiet stillness. Picking out a lovely spot to sleep for the night. And those stars. Now please go back to sleep.
DICK’S PASS
I was up for good at 5:40 am, and waking Finn up by 6 am so we could get up and over Dick’s Pass early this morning. We could see the pass from our tent site, and there was a good bit of snow up there. I was hoping it wouldn’t be too icy from refreezing overnight, but I also wanted to cross it before it started to get too slushy from the sun and high UVs too.
After a toasty warm breakfast to warm us up after another super cold night, we were all packed up and back on the trail by 7:30. It was only a two-mile hike between our campsite at Fontanillis Lake and the pass, but it would be uphill the entire way. Our first landmark was the campsite by the pond that I was initially aiming for yesterday (I think we made a really good decision to stay in the spot Finn picked out instead). Then, it was up to Dick’s Lake where we could here quite a few backpackers getting up and beginning their day. And finally, on the the series of switchbacks toward the top of the mountains.
We encountered the first bits of snow near the trail junction heading off to Dick’s Lake and it continued to increase in frequency from there. None of it was really bad though and it didn’t impede our steady progress upward.
We could spy Dick’s Lake getting smaller and smaller we neared the top of the pass. Then, before we knew it were were up at the top with gorgeous views on on either side of the mountains. To our north, we had the alpine lakes we’d walked passed yesterday afternoon, and to our south were all the ones that were yet to come.
Finn wanted to venture out onto the snow pack on the top of the ridge and give his victory pose. Although this isn’t the highest point on the Tahoe Rim Trail, it was the highest pass he would go over at 9,376′. And therefore, all the rest of the trail from here on out would be (at least theoretically) all downhill.
IT’S A FRIGGING PANDEMIC, DUDE!
At the top of the pass, we crossed paths with a few northbound hikers. As I stopped to talk with one of them, I quickly learned they weren’t hiking the TRT. These were PCT thru-hikers! They guys also shared there was another larger group of younger (i.e. 20-something) PCT thru-hikers about a day behind him, but they’d decided to take a zero in South Lake Tahoe and party a bit.
What the heck?!?
If I were hiking the TRT in any other year, I’d expect to see scores of PCT thru-hikers on this section of trail. But earlier this year, the PCTA asked all hikers to postpone their 2020 thru-hikes due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Knowing this bit of information, I decided to ask him when he started his thru-hike, and he responded with, “April 22nd.” Yep, that’s correct. He he’d ventured to the southern terminus to get on the trail right in the middle of April when the rest of the country was completely shut down to try to limit the spread of the virus.
I’ll admit I had really mixed feelings about seeing him and his cohorts up there. I know a lot of other long-distance hikers who’d given up their thru-hiking dreams based on public health risks and the guidance put out by the various trail associations. I’d just talked to Papa a few days ago (the hiker who stopped his own PCT thru-hike in Warner Springs, when the PCTA guidance came out) and seen the sheer disappointment in his face firsthand. I personally cancelled many of my own hiking plans in favor of shorter, self-supported hikes like the TRT and North Umpqua Trail this year. But here this guy was, doing his own thing and choosing to thru-hike the PCT anyway.
Intellectually, I knew lecturing or shaming him wasn’t going to result in him getting off the trail. He was an adult in his 50s or 60s. If he’d deliberately chosen to get on the trail **IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GLOBAL PANDEMIC** and hiked 1,000+ miles northbound, then a few choice words from me certainly weren’t going to change his mind. Plus, how would my self-righteous scorn square with the very fact that I was on the same bit of trail at that moment (albeit as part of a shorter thru-hike where I wasn’t regularly going into remote communities to resupply and put their local populations at risk)?
And so, I left that hiker interaction on the top of Dick’s Pass feeling a whole range of different emotions. Annoyance, sadness, jealousy, frustration, disgust, ambivalence, anger, melancholy, and so much more. None of my feelings were the pleasant ones that I’d had with every other hiker on the TRT thus far.
Thats about the time I realized I just had to let it go. Wasting mental energy on a situation where I had no actual control over was only going to impact my enjoyment on this journey. It wasn’t worth it. So, I refocused my energy on the scenery and just heading down the mountain.
LAND O’ LAKES
The descent from Dick’s Pass was a rocky one. Instead of soft dirt trail like we had on the north side of the mountain, we’d transitioned to a trail surface filled with lots of baseball sized rocks. It reminded me of the section of trail overlooking the Truckee River as I was heading into Tahoe City a few days ago. Just rocks, rocks, and more rocks.
Luckily, the soles of my feet weren’t nearly as tender today – but I decided to ask Finn about his own feet. In the past two days, he’s hiked ~ 34 miles, and we still had another 16 left to go. That’s lot to ask of virgin feet that are only used to walking around in flip flops. He assured me he was feeling good still, so we continued to head south down the trail as a good clip.
As we got close to Gilmore Lake, we crossed paths with two TRT thru-hikers. They shared that they were taking 14-15 days to hike the trail and just taking it at an easy pace. That sounded like a nice relaxing girls’ trip, and I was glad to have a reason to push my negative feelings about the PCT thru-hikers to the back of my mind and share in their enjoyment.
Then, we were off to hike around Susie Lake, which was so beautiful that I had to stop and take a bunch of pictures. Man, this trail really was something!
The entire morning was filled with alpine lakes! Right before we got to Heather Lake (my favorite of all of them), we had to walk past the lake’s outlet – a fast, moving stream headed downhill toward Grass Lake. On the hillside above the stream, we could see a field of snow. But then, as we got closer, we realized it was more than that. The snow extending over the stream was forming a giant U-shaped snow bridge. What an awesome sight!
The trail continued south around the edge of Heather Lake, and continued to be incredible rocky, but the views were a phenomenal distraction. At the end of the lake, the trail even wound around toward an unexpected, unnamed waterfall. Yep, I totally get why everyone loves the Desolation Wilderness section of the TRT so much. It’s the type of natural beauty you only expect to see on a calendar. And it just goes on and on and on. Every turn of the trail seems to hold a new captivating scene to capture your attention.
ALOHA LUNCH BREAK
After Heather Lake, we were starting to consider lunch as Finn was creeping into the “hangry zone.” He was complaining about a headache and his feet were beginning to hurt. I promised him a nice long lunch break once we got to Aloha Lake, which was the next big lake ahead of us. Only a more short mile…
Unfortunately, when we got to the northwest corner of the lake, I got so distracted by the views that I took a wrong turn at Mosquito Pass and started to head around Aloha Lake counterclockwise. I’d only gotten a few hundred yards before I realized my mistake, but when I told Finn we needed to backtrack, his inner grump emerged. He was ready to sit down NOW!
Although he was starting to fade and complained of feeling sick, I convinced him we needed to press on a little further. Just far enough where we’d have access to the lake water. Both of us were down to less than 8 ounces. If we were going to stop somewhere, it needed to be where we could get water for lunch and the upcoming miles this afternoon.
The sun was now directly overhead and blaring down on us. All the rocks seemed to be reflecting the heat, and it felt like we were getting blasted in an oven. And even though both of us had hats on, the intense glare from whitish-gray rocks was hurting our eyes. As a result, that final mile around the eastern rim of the lake felt like it took forever to hike. And despite the flat terrain, it might have been the most difficult mile of our day.
Nonetheless, we finally found a flat spot where we could set up the tent and rest for an hour on the banks of Lake Aloha. Finn now complained of a pounding headache and was refusing to eat lunch. Although my initial fear was the altitude was bothering, I doubt that was the real issue. In reality, he’d probably just hit that wall where every ache and pain of your body seems to settle in. He was dehydrated and tired. His feet hurt, and he just needed a break.
I’ve been in that bad spot many times myself on hikes. So, I forced him to take off his shoes and rest for the next hour while I bandaged up some hot spots on his feet. Then I dug into our food bag to find him a “pick-me-up” and was happy to locate some Reese’s Peanut Butter cups near the bottom of our snacks. No, it wasn’t the most nutritious lunch, but peanut butter is protein, right?? Once he agreed to eat that snack, I was able to get some more food and water into him and watched as his spirits as they seemed to lift.
Success. Now I just needed to get him through the remaining 8 miles of the day without quitting.
A HELPING HAND
After lunch, the trail seemed to briefly return to a dirt path, then returned to the rocks again. They never seem to end today! But, we were only about three hours from the end of the day, so I guessed we’d just have to make the best of them.
As we headed toward Lake of the Woods, we ended up stopping twice to help out some other hikers. The first one was a solo backpacker who I’d sworn I’d seen earlier in the day. He had his map out and was sitting at a trail junction trying to figure out how to get Gilmore Lake. I pointed him back toward Aloha Lake and told him hike in that direction. He scrunched up his face and asked if I was sure. He’d was sure he already passed Aloha Lake (maybe we HAD seen him before).
I assured him that he was still south of Aloha Lake and closer to Lake Margery now, and showed him our current location on both his map and on my Guthook app. When he saw the dot of our GPS location on my phone, he conceded that he must have made a wrong turn somewhere and thanked me for my help.
Not a half mile later, at another trail junction, we encountered another group of hikers (two men and a woman) wondering how to get to Lake of the Woods. I pointed them in the correct direction down the side trail and the lady asked me how the heck I knew where I was out here in the middle of the wilderness. I patiently showed them where they were on their map and then pointed to the wooden post they were standing next to that showed the direction back to Lake Aloha. Clearly they were new at this.
It really makes me wonder if the advent of GPS devices in our cars is contributing to people’s inability to read a basic map. I accept that there’s always been folks who get turned around easily. And everyone misses a turn or two. But, isn’t that what a map and compass are for? I’m starting to worry about the future of our species if people are struggling this mightily to figure out where they are at and which way to go.
After those two encounters, Finn and I crested a hill and had some nice views of Tamarack Lake. This lake essentially marks the southern boundary of the Desolation Wilderness. After that, all that would be left was Upper/Lower Echo Lakes and Echo Summit. Our hike was coming to an end, but the insane rocks on the trail were clearly were not!
ECHO LAKES
One of the interesting things about the Echo Lakes is the water taxi service. In normal years, the Echo Chalet runs a seasonal water taxi service on the 2.7 miles between the two lakes. Upper Echo Lake and Lower Echo Lake are distinctly separate bodies of water, but they’re connected by a narrow channel that is passable during high water conditions.
Although I probably wouldn’t have paid the $12 to take the water taxi (I really did want to hike every mile of the trail), it wasn’t even an option this year. Like everything else in the country, its operations ceased in 2020 due to the coronavirus pandemic. There was even a laminated sign stapled to a tree informing hikers that the water taxi wasn’t running so they didn’t waste their time heading down the side trail toward the dock.
The number of day hikers dramatically increased when made it to these final two lakes. In fact, this was easily the busiest spot on the entire TRT. Finn and I found ourselves constantly stepping off trail to let northbound hikers pass, and it reminded me of my experience with the hordes of mountain bikers between Tunnel Creek Road and Tahoe Meadows.
It’s easy to see why this short stretch of trail was so popular though. The trail ran alongside the edge of the lakes the entire way and it was super easy to get to from the trailhead at Echo Chalet. One of my favorite part of this section was when it passed some remote cabins on Lower Echo Lake. Only accessible by boat or the trail, many of these tiny cabins were built in an adorable architectural style that reminded me something a Hobbit or gnome would build for his home.
At the far end of Lower Echo Lake, we walked across the dam’s spillway. The views of the lake from the dam were gorgeous, but it was so hot out this afternoon and we were parched from the hiking. But, at the Echo Chalet parking lot there was a small convenience store calling our name.
Five minutes later, Finn and I were sitting outside in the shade, drinking cold Gatorade and eating It’s It ice cream sandwiches (delicious mint ice cream sandwiched between two old-fashioned oatmeal cookies and dipped in dark chocolate. YUM!!). We both deserved a little reward for our efforts. And what’s better than some ice cream while looking at the turquoise water of the lake?
THE FINAL MILES
After our snack break, we had a mere two miles left on the Tahoe Rim Trail. The trail climbed swiftly and I was feeling surprisingly out of breath. Despite our renewed energy reserves, those next two miles seemed to drag by. The trail was less scenic than it had been all day. No more lakes or mountain views, but at least the tall pines towering over us shaded us from the direct sun. And, the trail had finally returned to soft dirt and pine needles once again, which our sore feet were more than thankful for.
When we got to Highway 50, cars and trucks were whizzing by at 60 miles per hour. Finn and I stood there for a solid 4-5 minutes waiting for a break in traffic wide enough for us to dart across safely. We had less than a mile to go and weren’t taking any chance with our safety now. I felt like we were finally close enough to see the finish line.
The last little bit of the trail paralleled the highway as we headed toward Adventure Mountain (the sledding and tubing lodge that shared a parking lot with the Echo Summit trailhead). And although we were several hundred feet into the woodline, we could now see a line of vehicles stopped on the highway road. Those same drivers who’d blown past us ten minutes ago while we stood on the shoulder trying to cross, were now at a complete standstill. And I couldn’t help feel some joy that I was now moving faster than them, despite being on foot.
We’d later learn from Keith that an multi-vehicle accident was just beginning to clear up, and cars stretched for miles down the highway toward South Lake Tahoe. I’d initially worried that out pit stop at the Echo Chalet put us behind schedule, but it turned out to be good thing that we were running 15 minutes behind. Keith had been stuck in the long traffic jam on his way to the trailhead, and just barely arrived to the parking lot before we got there.
Finally, at 4:20 pm, we stepped off the trail and into the parking lot at Echo Summit. Finn was dragging his feet and complaining he was the most tired he’d ever been in his entire life (this gesture mostly to get some sympathy from his dad). I tried to put my arm around him and tell him how proud I was of him, but the boy who was in awe of the Milky Way at 3:30 am had quickly disappeared. He’d been replaced with the same moody teenager who just wanted to get back home and play some video games on his laptop.
Meanwhile, I did my own mental celebration at the trailhead. I’d finished the TRT. That’s right, 171 miles of blood, sweat and tears. It was a truly beautiful experience and one that I’d wholeheartedly recommend to anyone looking to hike a medium-distance trail. In fact, mile for mile, the Tahoe Rim Trail was one of the most scenic and rewarding trails I’ve ever hiked.
Now it’s time plan for the next adventure.
DAY 9 OVERVIEW
HIGHLIGHTS
- Summiting Dick’s Pass and looking out on all the alpine lakes in the Desolation Wilderness was genuinely breathtaking.
- Hiking past Heather Lake. From the ice bridge over the lake’s outlet to the azure blue water of the lake, this was one of my favorite spots on the entire trail.
- Getting to the finish line. Although I’m sad to be done, the overwhelming sense of accomplishment and self-confidence is like nothing else. That amazing feeling is what makes me so eager to hike more long trails.
CHALLENGES
- Trying to maintain my composure when I came across the PCT thru-hikers who refused to cancel or postpone their thru-hike due to the pandemic. C’mon people, the trail will still be here in a year…stop the spread.
- Getting Finn over the hump when we got to Aloha Lake. I know he was struggling 42 miles into his hike, and I really needed to find a way to motivate him to the end.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
