As fires raged all across the state of California, I had my focus aimed towards one in particular, the Ferguson fire, which was rapidly burning west of Yosemite Valley. I formed a morning and afternoon routine of checking the Yosemite webcams, looking for non-existent visibility through the dense smoke that had ridden California’s westerly winds into the valley.
Through a lottery system, Madison and I had been successful in earning two of the 225 daily slots to Hike Half Dome on August 6. It would be my third time hiking Half Dome and I was excited for Madison to go for her first.
For those that are unfamiliar with the Half Dome permit system, the final section of the hike, which is strung with cables that you use to walk up the nearly featureless granite formation, had become so jammed with traffic that a permit system was implemented in 2010, making the hike more enjoyable and safer, but also making access more scarce and valuable. The date that you are given in the lottery is the date you have to go.
As August 6th grew closer and the smoke in Yosemite Valley grew thicker, I started to come to grips with the fact that Half Dome just might not be in the cards for 2018. Sure enough, August 5th rolled around and there still was not a damn thing to be seen in Yosemite Valley. My third attempt at Half Dome would have to be shelved for the time being.
Not wanting to waste the precious week of vacation that I had requested months earlier, a contingency plan had to be put into motion. I was not going to give up on the flowing, tree-covered peaks and crystal-clear lakes of the beautiful Sierra Nevada Range. All throughout my childhood I had camped out in a remote corner of the mountains called Mono Hot Springs and I knew that I couldn’t go wrong with a return trip. It had been over a decade since my last visit. It would be a slightly different, more remote trip than a weekend in the tourist-filled Yosemite Valley. Also, I really wanted to show Madison the magical views on the hike to Half Dome, so we had to do our best to make up for the missed opportunity and look for a replacement hike.
Mono Hot Springs just as I remembered
To me, Mono Hot Springs is a paradise of sorts, an outpost in the Sierra Nevada that tastefully chose to retain its beauty and never overdevelop. An ice cold river cuts throughout the campsites, flowing along steep granite walls and giving life to lush meadows where wildflowers bloom. Towering pine trees dominate the terrain and aroma as they work their way up as high as they can on the surrounding monstrous peaks. And of course, the main attraction of the area is the numerous hot springs that dot the river’s edge, providing a relaxing way to soak in the views.
The campsites at Mono Hot Springs are in high demand, so we booked a site at Mono Creek Campground, just a few miles down the road.
Getting to Mono Hot Springs is an adventure in itself. You have to take Kaiser Pass, a one lane, bumpy road that reaches elevations of over 9,000 feet (one of the highest roads in California). The road has various blind turns and unguarded cliffs that can cause precarious situations when you come across traffic heading the opposite direction. While maybe a car with some clearance and four wheel drive would be ideal, my little Nissan did the trick and made it up there just fine. I drove cautiously, as any tow from this far out in the mountains would cost me my life savings.
We arrived at our campsite in the late afternoon on August 4th, pitched a tent, and took a dip in Mono Creek just a short distance from our site. We needed to rest because we had planned a hike for the following day that would fill the void of rigorous hiking that was created by missing out on Half Dome. We intended to reach the top of one of the towering peaks that loom over Mono Hot Springs, Graveyard Peak.
Forging our own path to Graveyard Peak
We woke up early on our first morning in the Sierras and heated water for a hot oatmeal breakfast. We had a solid thirteen-mile round trip hike on tap with just a hair under 4,000 feet of elevation to gain. The destination was Devil’s Bathtub, a natural lake in the high Sierras, and Graveyard Peak, one of the many mountains that form part of the semi circle of granite that encompasses the lake.
The first portion of the hike was a relatively mellow climb that breezed by. In just under two hours we had completed the 4.5 mile, 1,000 foot climb up to Devil’s Bathtub. Considering that so many of the lakes in the Sierras are damned, it was refreshing to see a pristine, natural lake. The water was crystal clear, as every detail of the lakebed could be discerned from its edge. The lake and the scenery were stunning, enough to the point that I would recommend to most people that they end the hike there and enjoy the lake for the day, avoiding the merciless climb up to Graveyard Peak.
Passing on an inviting dip in the lake, we decided to save that for the afternoon and trudged on to accomplish our goal of summiting Graveyard Peak. A steep, but relatively short trail-less, two mile hike up a sharp ridge on the east side of the lake was all that stood between us and a panoramic view of many of the barren peaks of the high Sierra.
As we gained elevation searching for the ridge that would lead us to the peak, I gained a new appreciation for hiking on trails. Looking for the path of least resistance through boulder fields and thick brush makes the distance you hike at least twice as much as it would be with a trail. We knew that the ridge looked pretty steep from where we scouted it on the shore of the lake, but it was steeper than it appeared. The relentless incline required frequent breaks and the thinning oxygen at over 10,000 feet didn’t make matters any easier.
As with climbing peaks goes, we kept passing false peak after false peak. (A peak that blocks the view of the true peak, making it appear as the top of the mountain.) The immensity of the mountain made our progress feel increasingly slow.
As we were approaching what appeared to be the true summit, we noticed a plume of smoke rising through the pine trees just a couple miles across the lake. It was too much smoke to be a campfire, but we couldn’t see any flames that indicated it was a wildfire. Various scenarios started racing through my head. If this indeed was the beginning of a forest fire, we were an awfully long way from our car and there was an abundance of dry timber sitting between us and safety.
For the meantime, the fire didn’t seem to be growing and we were so close to the peak that we continued on, too close to give up on our goal. We arrived to the top of Graveyard Peak four hours after first setting off from Devil’s Bathtub, surely the steepest, prolonged hike I had ever done without a trail.
Reaching the top is as, if not more, rewarding than I had hoped for, as dozens of high Sierra Peaks come into view, with lakes, valleys, and even a few glaciers (I think?) adding to the scenery. Not too far to the northwest you could see the billowing smoke of the Ferguson Fire giving the sky a distinct hue of grey.
As we took in the 360 degree scenery, I kept one worrisome eye on the aforementioned smoke rising out of the trees across the lake. A helicopter had arrived and was circling the smoke, giving me the idea that it wasn’t a drill. A glorious rest in the clouds at 11,500 feet had to be cut short, knowing that it would be best to work our way back towards the car in the case that the fire got any worse.
We hastily began the descent, hopping from boulder to boulder. The return trip back to the lake took only half the time (two hours) and this time we came at the lake from the north side to explore the opposite shore that we had seen in the morning.
The north shore is where all the snow runoff feeds the lake from the mountains, resulting in deposits of sediment that had formed beautiful, gradually sloping sandy beaches. Noticing that the smoke from the perceived fire had not gotten any worse, we decided that a well-deserved break was in order and we got our daily bath of fresh water.
That evening we arrived at the car, as exhausted as ever, nearly 12 hours since we commenced the hike. Hiking to Graveyard Peak had used up nearly all the hours of daylight at our disposal, but I was satisfied as it definitely felt like a worthy replacement of Half Dome.
Recovery at Doris Lake
After the overly strenuous start to the trip, our second full day in Mono Hot Springs was to be a mellow day to allow our muscles to recover. We rose a little later than normal and headed to the hot springs.
We spent the greater part of the day relaxing at a lake just a mile away from the Mono Hot Springs campsite. Doris Lake is a small, hot spring fed lake, known for its steep granite walls that make for excellent cliff jumping. These cliffs had been the cause of much allure, anxiety and fulfillment for me when I was younger. I always wanted to be like the adults and jump off the highest rock, called Eagle Rock for its resemblance to the head of a bird. After many years of working my way up, I finally was able to do the highest rock jump. A great weight off my shoulders after years of looking off the edge and not jumping.
In my return to Doris Lake I needed a smaller warm up jump and then I was ready to repeat my jump from Eagle Rock. I climbed the rock and jumped off before my mind could process the potential (and unlikely) consequences of the jump, avoiding any second guessing that might turn me back.
I jumped off Eagle Rock not because I felt like I had anything to prove, but I knew that if I didn’t it would be on my mind until the next time I came back, and who knows how long that would be.
The rest of the day was spent swimming, reading, and snacking on the granite shores of the lake.
Hasta Luego Mono Hot Springs
For our third and final day we had played around with the idea of taking on another daunting hike to one of the many peaks in the area, but we had enjoyed our day lounging around the lake so much, that we scheduled a similar kind of day again.
For our final day we completed a hike up to a prominent rock formation called Devil’s Table (which was more strenuous than I remember it being when I was younger) and ended the day at Tule Lake, named for the dense tules that thrive around its shore.
More swimming, reading, and fresh mountain air provided the perfect end to this trip.
Mono Hot Springs surely isn’t Yosemite. It’s an entirely different kind of trip and despite my desire to hike Half Dome for the third time, maybe a couple days in Mono Hot Springs was what I was truly looking for after all. Hiking, swimming, cooking, and enjoying hot springs with nostalgic memories of my childhood sprinkled around every corner of the mountains made for an excellent stay up in the enchanted land of no cell service.
I sure hope I don’t have to wait a decade again to return to this piece of paradise nestled up in the Sierra Nevadas, hence why it’s an ‘hasta luego’ and not an ‘adios.’