Yours truly took an exploratory journey around a favorite new locale in the Sierra, the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne, which is well-known and much-loved, and deservedly so. I wanted to see a little more of what surrounds this spectacular river canyon. And, to be honest, I also wanted to spend a day just hanging out in that Grand Canyon, and watching the Tuolumne River flow. So beautiful.
For external reasons, I went in August despite the heat, and in fact went a couple of days early (Sunday the 6th) in an attempt to avoid a heat wave some climatologists saw likely to develop over much of southern California and the Southwest midweek. Still it was 96 degrees went I left about noon at O’Shaughnessy Dam and began the trail around Hetch-Hetchy Reservoir. I had the notion that the trail, although up and downish, remained more or less level, like the reservoir, but to Rancheria Falls it’s a 2600-foot elevation gain, so no wonder I was happy to see the Rancheria Falls campground, even if it’s only 6.5 miles from the start. Crowds thinned out notably after Wapama Falls, which is an excellent destination for a daytrip.
I arrived at Rancheria Falls campsite around six, saw one other party, but had no difficulty finding a legit campsite for myself. The campsite sprawls over two or three acres, flattish, below the Falls and not far from the river (Rancheria Creek). I cowboy camped enjoyably with no issues whatsoever, woke up, had my coffee and oatmeal, went down to the river to fetch some water to clean up, and came back and a bear was nearby, seemingly munching or sampling nearby greenery in a low spot directly next my campsite. Fifty feet away perhaps. Had the best manners. Only looked my way when I had the temerity to take a picture of him pooping in the woods.
Day two, Monday the 7th, sent me switchbacking up and out of Hetch-Hetchy Canyon, on a faint trail with lots of whitethorn (as the ranger called it) a chaparral plant that can be a scratch-monster. Blessedly it was still green and growing, and didn’t mar me, though countless shade breaks proved necessary on the long ascents. After about five miles and two thousand feet in elevation gain, the trail flattened into a long upward sloping meadow with a zillion flowers — lovely.
Eventually the ridge topped out at about 8400 feet and the trail plunged, switchbacking, down a steep slope into so-called Pleasant Valley. Amazing views. Here we are looking northeast up the Yosemite Wilderness towards in the far distance the profile of the Ritter-Banner mountains, at about 12,000 feet. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so much granite in one photograph.
Exhausted after ten miles of uphill, harassed by all sorts of bugs (not just mosquitoes) I eventually arrived at the crossing of Piute Creek and this is what I saw. That’s the campsite and trail on the other side. I could have looked for a better crossing, but as you can see, the water is completely calm (the Park Service — or someone — dropped a tree across the water a few hundred feet up, smoothing and slowing the flow). So I swam for it, camped on the other side, happy at least to have deterred the bugs for a minute.
Wednesday my plan was to stroll through Pleasant Valley, up about a thousand feet to the ridge across the way, and descend on that trail, parallel to Piute Creek, descending to join the Tuolumne River not far from where the creek does. About eight miles. But it turned out that the rarely-traveled Pleasant Valley trails could be elusive at times, especially at boggy low spots — see the trail here?
John Muir used to talk about the “brakes” (ferns) growing five or six feet high in the Sierra. Really? I wondered. Never seen ferns anywhere near so tall — until this trip.
With the heat, the exertion, and the steep trails, I was completely wiped when i finally made it down to the Tuolumne, and threw down to camp in Pate Valley. It’s an incredibly lovely spot, that had maybe ten or fifteen hikers spread out on both sides of a big river with countless camp spots over two or three miles.
Next morning I decided to walk up into the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne, and find a paradisaical spot to rest for a day — but I found one without even having go over the hill to the valley, near where the river emerges from Muir Gorge, just a little west of a major falls — a day of “good, practical immortality,” as Muir said.
The campsite itself was invisible from the trail, though no more than about a hundred feet away, and my presence cloaked by the roar of the falls. Sweetness.
Guess I should include a picture of me — need at least one human in this little story.
Can’t forget this one — this peace.
I hear the white water
roaring
the breeze in the leaves
rustling —
Tuolumne
Friday morning I set out on the climb from Pate Valley (at 4400 feet) to the crest of the ridge (Harden Lake, at 7600 feet). About an eight mile walk. Not easy, but it had its compensations…such as a view down to Hetch-Hetchy, from whence I started.
About four I arrived at Harden Lake, which this year turned out to be quite attractive (last year it looked like a puddle in an alpine desert — nothing like a massive snowfall to perk up a mountain lake). Camped pleasantly on the shore.;
My final day was a twelve-mile walk downhill through a seemingly endless burn scar under the blazing orb back to Hetch-Hetchy. Another hot day but no harm done, another billion flowers or so seen, with a bee for every one, and plenty of spring water for a thirsty walker to drink — straight out of the stream. Chances taken.
Found this little water hole just a short distance from the roadwalk to Hetch-Hetchy. Had to stay with its coolth for a good while — a natural settling down.
Kit Stolz 