I didn't spend much time in the mountains in the year 2000 so I was determined to make up for it in 2001. My first hike was planned for one of my favorite areas, the Red Mountain Basin. I arrived at the Forest Service office in Prather at seven in the morning and was disappointed to find that it would not open until 8:30. There was no sense in waiting so I continued toward the trailhead. I figured that I could get a wilderness permit at the Dinkey Creek Ranger Station, but it was closed too. Feeling frustrated, I drove to the market nearby and asked when the ranger station would open. The proprietors thought that the ranger wouldn't be in that day but offered to write me a fire permit. They suggested that it would be all right to drop off my itinerary at the ranger station, so that's what I did.
I arrived at the Maxon Trailhead at 8:50. Shortly after hitting the trail, a curious doe walked toward me, then bounced away when I made a sudden movement. It was a beautiful, cool day, perfect for hiking. Later that morning at the Hobler Lake turnoff, I decided to check out the view from a nearby ridge. What a surprise. Below to the west was Courtright Reservoir. To the east, Mount Goddard and its neighbors poked their heads above the LeConte Divide. Clouds began building in the afternoon as I crossed Post Corral Creek and climbed to the ridge leading to Red Mountain Basin. Finally, I arrived at my destination for the day, Rae Lake. I had the lake to myself and picked a spot on the northwest shore. After dinner, I enjoyed watching mist rising from Rae Lake and the rainless clouds that blew overhead. A low bank of clouds blew to the north. Through windows in the lower cloud bank, I could see the upper clouds blowing to the south.
I slept in the next morning and awoke to crystal clear skies and what promised to be a perfect day for hiking. I began my exploration a little after eight and headed northeast toward Lower Indian Lake which turned out to be a disappointment. It's appearance was rather bland for my taste, so I snapped a quick photo and continued up Fleming Creek. By mid-morning, I reached Upper Indian Lake which was much more to my liking. I continued north past the lake to Mosquito Pass. I was surprised to find the north side of the pass was very steep and a cornice at the top blocked further progress. I hadn't planned on crossing the pass, but I was curious about prospects for using it some day. After a little scouting, I found a promising route across granite slabs west of the "pass".
From Upper Indian Lake, I contoured along the west flank of Mount Henry to my next destination, Turf Lakes. The pleasant route was partially forested, with good views of Lower Indian Lake and the Fleming Creek Valley. About an hour later, I crossed an ice cold stream which became a shady snack spot. Further contouring finally brought me to Turf Lakes. It's not difficult to see how the lakes got their name. They are fringed in lush grass which stands in stark contrast to the rocky surroundings.
From the outlet of Turf Lakes, I followed the stream down to one of the larger lakes in the basin, Davis Lake. Moving south up an almost dry drainage eventually led to the top of the ridge separating Davis and Diamond X Lakes. Far below was a small, unnamed lake. Dale Lake and Fleming Lake were tiny, blue jewels in the distance. A short walk to the east led to Diamond X Lake, an alpine gem at tree line. From there, I walked near a swampy, unnamed lake which did not tempt me to venture nearer. At mid-afternoon, it occurred to me that I was getting a bad sunburn. A cool breeze had been blowing all day and I had forgot to put on sunscreen. Having visited the north part of the basin, it was time to move to the southern part. My destination was Disappointment Lake, certainly a misnomer because it is one of the most delightful destinations in the basin. I found a perfect camp spot on the south side of the lake near its southern inlet stream. As shadows lengthened, I headed to the outlet with my camera, hoping to capture scenery bathed in evening light. I made a mental note of several small, secluded campsites I discovered on my way to a high point south of the outlet. As the mountains turned to gold, I finished off the roll of film in my camera. That evening, the rushing stream lulled me to a refreshing sleep.
Another perfect day dawned. After breakfast, I headed up the southern inlet stream toward Horseshoe Lake. I didn't expect what I found. Horseshoe Lake has many personalities. It is warm and colorful, cold and bleak, a crystalline beauty. Just a little above Horseshoe lay Arctic Lake, a relic of the Little Ice Age, its small, tiny moraine giving it life. Just north of Arctic Lake and over a rocky ridge lay the giant of the basin, Hell for Sure Lake.
It was time to head back to the trailhead and I figured I had just enough time to visit the last half dozen lakes of the basin during my return. I descended the outlet stream from Horseshoe Lake and contoured around a spur of Mount Hutton to Blackrock Lake, out of the way and certainly worth another visit in the future. I continued contouring over blocky talus, eventually arriving at Big Shot Lake. A quick descent past Little Shot Lake brought me to perhaps the loveliest lake of the basin, the Devil's Punchbowl. As I moved around the north and west shores of Devil's Punchbowl, Jigger Lakes came into view far below. A marvelous view up the Fleming Creek valley included the steep cliffs at the edge of the Devil's Punchbowl. Pine pollen rings on a hunk of granite close to the shore recorded the recent lowering of the lake's level.
Soon I crossed the outlet stream and started down Meadow Brook toward the North Fork of the Kings River. I passed the last lake, or rather pond I would see on this trip in a meadow of Meadow Brook Valley. I stopped for a hot dinner at Post Corral Creek and reached the trailhead at about 9:30 that evening. It was a marvelous trip. Where was everyone? I didn't see another soul during the entire trip.
09 October 2001