The Sierra Nevada mountains are essentially a large playground for those who enjoy being outdoors. The endless mountains, lakes, and valleys serve as a getaway to solitude for the most populous state in the world’s third most populous country.
While the pandemic has wreaked havoc on the economy worldwide, it has had the contrary effect on the amount of people enjoying nature. The trails are teeming with people. I suppose the relatively lower risks of contracting the virus outdoors coupled with stimulus checks and an unemployment rate not seen since the 1930’s has led lots of people to look towards the mountains with the newfound free time they have on their hands.
Go online and try to buy a bear canister or reserve a campsite. The backlog on orders and fully booked recreation areas paint the picture well enough. Microeconomics can be quite fascinating.
Despite the swaths of humans heading to the mountains, there are still plenty of corners where solitude exists and crowds are not overwhelming. I recently found that sought-after solitude in the eastern Sierra at Deer Lakes with my girlfriend Madison, my brother Nik, and his girlfriend Carli.
We set out from coastal northern California to cross the Sierra Nevada and head towards the town of Mammoth Lakes, where we would spend two nights outdoors and complete a 14-mile loop.
A thunderous journey to Deer Lakes
Our first of three days started out above Mammoth Lakes at Lake George — a popular tourist destination for recreational activities such as hiking and fishing.
Under a cloudless, cobalt sky, we ascended two thousand feet up to the top of Mammoth Crest — a prominent, high spine of mountains that tower above the lake basin below.
However, the clear morning skies soon gave way to dark, billowing clouds that blanketed the high elevations of the mountain range. In true Murphy’s Law fashion, the clouds’ downpour coincided exactly with when we reached the highest point on the ridge. Our hopes of a warm day spent around a lake quickly vanished.
While certainly strong enough to not be considered a drizzle, the rain could have been much worse. We put on our pack rain covers and took cover under the stunted, wind-warped trees of the upper mountain slopes.
Persistent thunder began to roar from the gloomy clouds, which were now parked at seemingly stationary positions overhead. Wind swirled and rain fell intermittently, but eventually we felt that we had a window to make a one-mile dash to Deer Lakes where we could put up our tents and brace for the next round of precipitation.
You could say that the rain came out of nowhere, but during monsoon season, such weather patterns are anything but abnormal. From July to November, tropical moisture escapes north from Mexico into the southern United States, which when coupled with the heating effects of sunlight, can often form particularly moist clouds come afternoon that eventually drop their loads of water. Those who have spent time in the tropics of the world are very familiar with this nearly daily occurrence during the wet season.
We arrived at Deer Lakes without incident and searched for a great spot to set up camp. We hurried in case the rain returned. Deer Lakes is a basin of three lakes and we found an ideal spot at the middle lake all to ourselves. We had relatively good protection from the wind and easy access to the side of the lake that had a gradually sloping sandy shore.
While the rain did return, it never fell hard enough to prompt the use of my rain jacket. We spent the rest of the day lounging in the still moody weather, watching Nik cast for fish, and admiring the views of the sheer granite cliffs that surrounded us.
Over the Pass to Pika Lake
With only about four miles to hike for our second day on the trail, we had a slow morning at Deer Lakes, enjoying our exceptional campsite.
Instead of rushing to Pika Lake, our next destination, we enjoyed Deer Lakes while the sun was out, assuming that the thunderous clouds would return in the afternoon.
There was probably about a 45-minute window where the sun was warm enough to get in the lake. Soon thereafter, the rainclouds reappeared, snuffing out the sun and bringing temperatures down. We took advantage of our narrow moment of warmth and jumped in the chilly alpine waters.
As the clouds once again enveloped the mountains, we packed our bags and set off, climbing out of the Deer Lakes basin, up and over a saddle, and down into the Duck Lake basin.
Surely enough, the thunder and rain returned, but never strong enough to deter us from our hike. We arrived at Pika Lake a few hours later, staked out a nice campsite with tree protection from the wind, and enjoyed another mellow day beside the lake. It was a nice change of pace compared to the muscle burning backpacking treks that I usually arrange.
We didn’t have Pika Lake to ourselves as we did at Deer Lakes, but there were only four other visitors, a very manageable amount.
We cooked meals, went for a quick dip in the lake, watched Nik catch another fish, and stayed up late to get a glimpse of Comet Neowise on its journey out of the solar system.
The finish line over Duck Pass
For our third and final day, we had a short climb over Duck Pass and then a long descent into the basin of lakes below.
The closer we got to the parking lot at the Duck Pass trailhead, naturally, the more crowded the trail got. I could gauge how far we were from our destination based on the hikers with whom we began to cross paths.
We probably didn’t have much longer to go when we started seeing people hauling their babies up the trail, or people walking their miniature dogs.
It was a bit of a zoo at Lake Mary and Lake George in the lower elevations. Thousands of visitors were launching boats, going out on StandUp Paddleboards, and frantically searching for parking. It was quite the contrast compared to the terrain that we had explored just a handful of miles on the other side of the crest.
We regrouped for a fresh meal, which everyone craves after days of eating dehydrated food, and set off in our separate directions across the state — Madison and I south to San Diego, and Nik and Carli west to San Francisco.
It was another sliver of the Sierra Nevada checked off the list.