It's been far too long since I've used these tags on this blog! I recently returned from a very special backpacking trip in the High Sierras with my dad. This is my first backpacking outing since 2019! COVID paused all my plans for a while, and since then I've had (good) lifestyle changes that have made it a bit more convoluted to plan a week-long off-the-grid outing. My dad recently suggested planning some sort of outing, and after some discussion we zoomed in on the idea of a multi-day backpacking expedition leveraging huts/camps at one of the great national parks. I had three on my list: Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, and Glacier. I had previously backpacked Yosemite and the Grand Canyon with my tent, and had been thinking for a while about making use of the wilderness lodges they provide. I hadn't backpacked in Glacier and was intrigued by that as well. We resolved to enter all of the various lotteries as they opened up until we eventually won one, and then do whatever trip that ended up being. We lucked out and were able to grab some slots from cancellations of Yosemite for 2026; that is, people who had entered the lottery in 2025 for 2026 stays, and subsequently canceled their plans. I was really happy by this: all three parks would have been exciting, but Yosemite is my favorite, and I had been particularly interested in the High Sierra Camps.
As a side note, I'm a little astonished to realize that I apparently don't have a blog post for my 2010 backpacking trip in Yosemite, especially since I usually think of that as my favorite wilderness trip. I think that at the time I had published a lengthy PicasaWeb photo series with tons of captioned photos that laid out the entire trip, and also a shorter Facebook post with lots of pictures. Ah, how transient the Internet has proved to be! Google has continued its terrible track record of destroying its services that I used to use and love; it's probably only a matter of time until Blogger itself shuts down. And I closed my Facebook account for good in 2024 after ghosting on it much earlier. I still have the actual photos, and I think the captions are part of the metadata, so perhaps one day I will reconstruct that particular journey.
Back to 2026! In my time of backpacking, I came to realize that the physical act of carrying a heavy load is not appealing to me: rather, I love backpacking because it gives me ground-level access to amazingly beautiful, remote, special, wild places. The heavy backpack is just the price of admission to reach those places. Which is why the High Sierra Camps sounded so appealing: these remote camps provide basic sleeping accommodations, along with a hot breakfast and supper each day. This significantly reduces the amount of gear you need to bring: you still want a sleeping bag and snacks, but don't need to carry a tent, camp stove, or nearly as much food. The High Sierra Camps are each about a day's hike apart, and you can chain them together into a large loop. This ended up being somewhat like my experience with the Hiking Huts in the New Zealand Great Walks.
I didn't just feel lucky that we got the cancellation, I felt lucky that they were open at all. While the camps have operated almost uninterrupted since they opened in the 1920s, including through World War II, they have only been opened four times in the last ten years. Some of those closures have seemed reasonable - most particularly, the COVID-19 pandemic, and also a particularly heavy snow year that significantly damaged the camps. However, as we learned while chatting with more fellow hikers on this trip, the most significant factor is their current management. While the National Park Service oversees the actual park, collecting entrance fees and managing wilderness permits, all of the commercial operations within the park are handled through a single franchise agreement. For many years this was granted to the private company Delaware North, who built a fantastic reputation for high quality, service and value. In recent years, though, the contract has been taken over by publicly traded Aramark, a multinational conglomerate. As one hiker observed, Aramark makes most of its money feeding prisoners and elementary school kids, so that's the standard they're used to providing. The High Sierra Camps are very special, but given their extremely limited size, very short season (usually only open from June through early September), remote location and unique requirements, Aramark doesn't really want anything to do with them so will take any excuse they can find to keep them closed. This has had a particularly rough impact on the staff - in one year, they only learned on June 1st that the camps would be closed and they would all need to find new jobs. Many of the old hands who had spent years or decades running the camps understandably left for new jobs, and so when the camps have reopened they have had an inexperienced (though enthusiastic) staff.
That sounds like a lot of complaining, so I should note here that my personal experience on this trip was fantastic - I loved the accommodations, the settings, the staff and the meals. But at the same time the hikers who had done the loop before Aramark took over said that it used to be even better.
On to the trip itself! I was able to use almost all of my existing gear from my last trips. I did finally replace the Aqua Mira water treatment kit that I've had since 2008; there's still some left, but I figured a fresh kit would probably be safer. I also got some new bug repellent to replace a much older one. Fortunately, I never needed to use either thing - I had enough water for each leg of the journey without needing any refills in the wild, and we were blessedly free of mosquitoes through the entire trip.
I have a standard checklist in Google Sheets that I use to pack. It's a sort of "master sheet", and I won't bring everything on every trip, based on what I expect to encounter. On this one I was able to forego my cooking supplies and stuff; but I did pack a paperback book, notebook and pen, which I often omit for my solo trips.
My dad flew out to the Bay Area and we had a few good days here, meeting up with cousins and exploring the area. We left on a Thursday morning. I was planning to take 120 all the way into the park, and was aware that 140 might be a better alternative depending on traffic. Traffic was great, though, and we reached the park itself within 4 hours as opposed to the 5+ I'd been planning on.
We entered the park in the early afternoon and drove down through the tunnels into Yosemite Valley. It was really hot this day, with a high of over 100 degrees. We ate lunch in the shade near the Merced River, watching some other families and couples wade and swim in the water, and got some great views of El Capitan. We then drove to the east side of the park and did a little hike up through Happy Isles. I'd imagined this as a short out-and-back, but we ended up going up a mule trail to the Mist Trailhead, then down to Vernal Falls and back down the John Muir Trail to the valley. It was a hot hike, but we had good shade for almost the whole way, and it felt good to move our bodies.
We then left the valley and drove up Tioga Road to the Tuolumne Meadows Lodge, which took a little under two hours. There was fantastic scenery for most of the drive up, great forests and mountains all around. At the lodge we checked in and were assigned the first of many tent cabins we would stay at during our trip. Each cabin is built over a concrete slab; in the winter, they are able to disassemble the entire tent so it isn't crushed by the snow, then reassemble it in the spring. Instead of walls, they have thick canvas, held up by sturdy metal beams. They have a couple of simple rope-pulled "windows" built into the "walls" that you can open to let air and light through - but no bugs, thanks to the screen. Each cabin has a wood-burning stove with firewood, matches and kindling. It was so hot the whole time we were up there that the idea of lighting the stove sounded ludicrous. You also get a little closet-type space with a couple of hangers and two low shelves; the later tent cabins in the High Sierra Camps had one of these per bed, but the cabins in the Lodge only had a single one per cabin. The beds were simple but good, elevated with springs, a mattress, a coarse wool blanket, a soft comforter, pillow and pillowcase. The beds at the lodge had a sheet, the ones at the camps did not, hence the use of a sleeping bag. The cabins also come with a simple card table, a folding chair, and some rechargeable LED lanterns.
Bear safety is very important through Yosemite, particularly the storage of food and other scented items. At all of the sleeping areas, trailheads and major pullouts, you'll see large bear bins. These are sturdy metal contraptions that keep bears out. They're large enough to hold a good-sized cooler. Most of them are first-come first-served, and I never had trouble finding room for stuff. At the Lodge, there are also smaller cubbies for each cabin near the restrooms, intended for toiletries but also fine for smaller quantities of food.
After settling into the cabin, we munched on some homemade sandwiches near a pleasant creek running past the lodge, and then took off on a short hike along the John Muir Trail. This crossed the Dana Fork of the Tuolumne River before reaching Twin Bridges, which spans what I believe is the "main" Tuolumne River. This was a really pretty area, with a nice babbling creek, peaceful meadow and views of mounains. We lingered for a bit, and headed back to the cabin as dusk fell.
I'd assumed that I could keep my car parked at the Lodge since we were both starting and ending the trip there, but parking is actually very limited and only overnight guests are allowed in the lot. Fortunately there's lots of other parking nearby, and the desk clerk helpfully provided a sheet with a list of options. They recommended the Lembert Dome parking area since it's the shortest distance to Glen Aulin; after consulting my map, I opted instead for Parsons Lodge. It's about the same distance from Glen Aulin, but would be a slightly shorter return on our last day. It would also take us directly through Tuolumne Meadow and through the Soda Spring, which I hadn't previously seen. There was plenty of parking at this trailhead, along with plenty of bear box space, so we ditched the now-empty cooler in there, hoisted our packs, and started hiking!
Immediately we were confused. There was massive construction along the north edge of Tioga Road. We would learn later that they were replacing the water system, but in the meantime the main trails were inaccessible. Fortunately, we saw another hiker walking along a berm, so we were able to follow him until we got to the main trail.
The walk across the Meadows itself was lovely. Nice and flat, perfect for getting acclimated to the elevation and our packs. We could see forest above us, and when we looked back we could see large mountains. It was going to be a warm day, but so far it was nice and cool in the morning.
We reached Parsons Lodge, a historic site. There's a visitor's center there that doesn't open until 9am, but we were able to check out the structures and historical markers. The most interesting thing here is Soda Springs, a natural spring that emits fizzy carbonated water, like La Croix from the ground. According to the nearby plaque, scientists still aren't 100% certain what causes it, but it seems likely that alkalis enter the ground from a great distance, react with minerals in the water and produce pressure that pushes the bubbly water up and out. This water is apparently perfectly fine to drink, and a favorite of thru-hikers.
Continuing on to the edge of the meadow, we picked up the Tuolumne River and followed it into the rockier areas to the north and west. We walked through some forest and increasingly along rock, getting periodic views of the nice blue water.
One of the appealing aspects of starting the trip with the Glen Aulin leg is that it's a net descent, dropping from 8700 feet to about 7900. But, while downhill can be less tiring than uphill, it can also be more challenging. There are downward slopes, stone stairs, mixes of pebbles and gravel, and some particularly tricky stretches that are like rounded cobblestones. I found that my mountain-goat tendencies came back to me pretty easily and I was able to hop along without too much trouble. My dad, hailing from the flatlands and with no previous backpacking experience, didn't fare as well, and over a couple of particularly steep stretches found himself tugged down by his backpack. Later on we realized that a set of straps were too loose, causing the top of his pack to sag back behind him and pulling back his center of gravity even more; after tightening those, the pack sat closer to his neck and the overall balance was way better. I felt bad about not doing a thorough inspection or anything before we headed out; I've always been a solo backpacker, and don't even consciously think now about how I'm walking, so I ended up doing the unhelpful "Oh, you should have done that" instead of the proactive "Oh, you should do this."
We paused for a nice lunch near a powerful waterfall through the granite east of Glen Aulin, finishing the last of our sandwiches. We had some more steep descent into Glen Aulin, crossed several cool bridges and entered the camp.
I checked in with Tony, the very tall and friendly camp manager. He told us that we'd probably have a tent cabin to ourselves this night, which was a pleasant surprise. We unpacked all of our stuff and changed out of our hiking shoes into comfy camp footgear. I have a small day-light pack that clips on to my main pack, and whenever we got to a camp I would detach that so I'd have an easy way to carry my water bottle, book, and anything else I wanted.
Glen Aulin was super-pretty, and may have been our favorite camp of the entire trip. It's right next to a waterfall, and we had that really pleasant white noise throughout the entire stay. The waterfall plunges into a crystal-clear pool right next to the camp, and people enjoyed swimming and wading in the pool. While we didn't do any long day hikes from the camp, a short way down the trail to Waterwheel Falls you see a lovely side canyon with a series of waterfalls and dramatic peaks rising to either side.
All of the camps have running water and have historically offered showers, although we'd been warned that due to maintenance issues not all showers were operating. I wasn't planning on taking any showers during this trip, mostly because I've never had the opportunity on previous backpacking trips and it seemed superfluous; but since we had plenty of time and I was curious, I ended up giving it a try. The facilities don't look at all fancy, but it's an engineering miracle to get water at all out there, and I was glad to have the opportunity to wash the trail dirt off me.
I was expecting the meals to be similar to the ones I'd had at the Phantom Ranch canteen, and that proved to be pretty accurate. Everything is served family-style, with people choosing their own seats and big containers of food coming out to share. At Glen Aulin the cook had baked some homemade bread, which was really delicious; it had raisins in it and was soft, dense and just a little moist. There were also some really nice roasted vegetables, including some really delicious sweet potatoes. The entree was pork chops, and we had some chocolate cake for dessert.
While I've historically enjoyed the solitude of wilderness backpacking, in my more recent trips I've conversely come to enjoy the loose camaraderie that comes with getting to know people in the back-country. You're sharing trails, meals and sleeping space with people, and it does feel fun to strike up conversations and get to know people. Folks come from all sorts of places and walks of life, but pretty much everyone is here because they love the outdoors, and it feels good to know we have that in common. On our first night, we sat with an older pair of men from Orange County who had been hiking in this area for decades. We learned that they like to spend two nights at Glen Aulin and then two nights at May Lake, which I now think is a fantastic idea: after the heavy weight of hiking in with a full backpack, you can just grab a lighter daypack and do day hikes for the next day while you recuperate. It's also inspiring to see and hear how many people keep coming back to these hikes despite knee or ankle problems. Despite the discomfort, they find ways to adapt and continue doing the things they love instead of stopping altogether.
After the meal, Tony gave a few words to all of us; he was pretty funny. He introduced the cook, a relative old-timer who has been working in Yosemite since 2015. Apparently this was the first time he had baked the bread, and he was pleased to hear it had turned out well. He gave us a history of the High Sierra Camps, noting in particular that Glen Aulin will turn 100 years old in 2027. He then pulled out a ukulele and played and sang "You're Welcome" from Moana - a funny thematic choice so far away from the ocean, but also a super fun experience!
The staff let us know of a good nearby spot to watch the sunset, along that same path to Waterwheel Falls. It was beautiful, with a really nice orangey color. Tired, we returned to the cabin and fell asleep to the sound of the waterfall.
Breakfast the next morning was a bit more casual. I think they set out coffee around 7:00 and started serving around 7:30. We each got a bowl of oatmeal as we came in, and I think got bacon and pancakes as well. It was yummy food, and I made myself eat it. I know from experience that my appetite tends to wane as I do more physical activity, and I also know that I really need to make myself eat a lot more calories than usual when I'm backpacking. We sat next to a young couple from Reno Nevada and had a great chat with them, swapping some hiking experiences but also just chatting about our lives and interests.
Packing back up was pretty easy; it's an advantage to having such simple accommodations and carrying literally everything in one backpack. We hiked out and on our way to May Lake. This day would see a larger rise in elevation, but overall it felt much more comfortable than our first day. I think a lot of things were going well for us. The biomes were very varied, including a lot of nice forested dirt paths, which were easier on our feet and kept us cool. It was a bit less warm overall, and would continue to cool more with each day. We had also been at elevation for several days now, and our lungs had grown better acclimated to the thin atmosphere. We were more dialed in to our packs, noticing when things were off and straps needed adjusting. Dad had gotten more used to his walking sticks, using them more for balance and not pushing off them. And we had had a nice hearty breakfast with a lot of good fuel to start off the day.
So we were feeling well and moving well throughout the day's journey. We agreed early on to make ourselves stop and rest every hour to keep up our energy; we made more frequent breaks when going up steep inclines, finding shady spots to sip water. Fortunately we got some good cool breezes throughout the day, which significantly increased our comfort and mood.
There's often a tradeoff when hiking through areas like this. When walking through a shaded forest, the actual hike is very comfortable, but there usually isn't much of a view other than the trees. When walking through rocks, the hike tends to be steeper and less comfortable, but you can also get amazing views of the surroundings: there, that included mountain ridgelines, rivers, distant lakes and winding trails. I loved the variety we got through all four days of hiking; it never felt like we were doing one thing all day long, instead we would duck in and out of various biomes as we made our way towards each new camp.
The hardest part of this day was a climb up an exposed mountain face. Once we made it through there, we re-entered a forest and made our way to May Lake. There's a slightly misleading sign that reads something like "May Lake: 0.2 Miles". While that makes it sound like you're almost there, the actual May Lake Camp is quite a bit further ahead: not a huge deal, but for people with nearly depleted stamina, it can mean a lot!
We walked past the titular May Lake on our way into the camp. It's absolutely beautiful, another snow-fed alpine lake with a striking peak rising behind it. The wind was very calm this day, so we got to enjoy the mirror-like reflection of the peak in the water.
We checked in, and got placed into a six-person tent cabin. Coincidentally, we were placed with the men we had eaten dinner with and the couple we had eaten breakfast with at Glen Aulin! That was a fun coincidence. It started to rain just a little after we checked in, and it felt really peaceful to lay on our beds and hear the raindrops splat against the canvas roof. Throughout the afternoon there was very little rain, but some pretty dramatic sounds of thunder. We spent a good amount of the afternoon inside the main office/dining/recreation area. I believe that back in the Delaware North days this space would operate as a canteen like Phantom Ranch does, open to campers and backpackers and thru-hikers to buy a beer or candy bar or postcard or just sit at a table to play some cards, journal or whatever. Anyways, we found a Scrabble box here, and played a couple of fun games; we realized after the first round that it was missing "Q", "Z" and a blank tile.
Supper this night came with some brocolini, mashed potatoes, and "Shepherds Pie": this was a single big stainless-steel pot with layers of ground beef, cheese and mashed potatoes. It was super-yummy, maybe one of my favorite things I ate for the whole trip. Dessert was some kind of a cranberry biscuit thing.
After dinner the staff made a campfire in a firepit near the lake. This hadn't been allowed in Glen Aulin, due to park regulations forbidding fires below 8000 feet. It was nice to sit and chat with some of the staff and fellow hikers. The cook came out to join us for a bit; I forget his name, he had cool and interesting looped hair. People discussed the conditions of the other camps, including Lake Merced and Vogelsang which still have not reopened since the pandemic. We also heard about yoga at Lembert Dome, and complaints about frozen meatballs that were served in previous years. It was all relaxed and nice.
The next morning we got to see... not the literal sunrise, but the beautiful effects of the sunrise on May Lake and the mountain behind it, which turned such a wonderful series of colors with the passing minutes. After coffee and breakfast, we packed up to head out. The young couple had already taken off, getting an early start to maximize the cool part of the day. The older gentlemen were going to spend another day at May Lake, and in the meantime would get a better position within the tent cabin.
We'd been warned that this third day, from May Lake to Sunrise, would be the most difficult: while you start and end at around the same elevation, there's a big descent to Lake Tenaya and Tioga Road before another big ascent back up to Sunrise. But this day still felt better to us than the first day did. It started with a short mile-and-a-half hike to the trailhead. May Lake is "famous" for having the shortest required hike of the High Sierra Camps, making it also one of the most popular: it can be a good choice for a single night in-and-out for more casual hikers, as well as for people who need to get a later start in the day. After a brief confusion in the trailhead parking lot, we found the right trail just past the mule staging area. Or I should say "trail"; this was actually the old Tioga Road, originally built in the 1880s, largely by Chinese laborers, to improve access to a silver mine that promptly went defunct. Yet another interesting hiking surface, this had some stretches of blacktop but was mostly eroded down to dirt. There was another stumble here in the uneven road, which felt a bit humbling to me: on a multi-day long journey, we are taking hundreds of thousands of steps, over countless roots and patches of scree and uneven steps and loose pebbles and who knows what else, and all it takes is a single bad step to put us at risk of toppling.
The rest of the path down was quite and uneventful, and came with periodic pretty views of Lake Tenaya, which we had passed on our initial drive up Tioga Road. It felt odd to come into range of the road and begin to hear the sound of traffic again after several days without it. We scooched across the road, and then came to a sign puzzlingly labeled "TRAIL JUNCTION". That was it: no description of what trail went where. (It was even more baffling on first sight, when I thought it read "TRAIN JUNCTION".) After consulting my handy map, we figured it out and pressed on.
We had a brief stay at Lake Tenaya, enjoying the pretty blue of the water, and the sight of people enjoying watersports on it; there were a few inflatable rafts and boogie boards and things in there. We headed back to the trail and pressed onward: there was going to be a lot more climbing on our way to Sunrise Camp.
The way up was pretty steep, but again we were good about taking frequent short rests for shade and oxygen on our ascent. It was around lunchtime when we reached the intersection with the trail towards Cloud's Rest continuing south and our path to Sunrise to the east. We ducked a little to the west and nibbled on our sack lunches. Each of the camps offers a lunch that you can order the night before. We had been told that these would be offered for $20, and everyone was surprised to learn that they were actually provided for free. There were a few different options each day. I think that the first day I got a turkey wrap (in a flour tortilla), the second day was a pastrami sandwich with jack cheese, and the third day I got a PB&J. Anyways, it felt good to once again remove our packs and relax while refueling and enjoying the scenery.
I scouted a bit ahead in this western direction, along an unmarked but fairly prominent social trail. The gentlemen we had previously shared a cabin with had told us that this led to a really striking view of Yosemite Valley, and I determined that they were correct: after just a few minutes down the informal trail, you can see a straight shot down Tenaya Canyon to Yosemite Valley, including a particularly cool view of Half Dome. I snapped some shots, returned to my dad, and we went down for some more selfie action.
Back on the trail, we passed the Sunrise Lakes. I had learned the previous night that, unlike May, the Sunrise Camp isn't near its titular lakes, so we spent a little extra time enjoying looking at the water, and Dad got to dip his feet in one. Apparently all the lakes were fairly warm, as the snow had melted some time ago and, being relatively shallow, they are well-warmed by the sun.
We had a bit more climbing past the lakes, passing through yet another entirely new biome: deeply sandy, this stretch looked a bit like a dessert. I am very curious about how these areas turn out the way they do: what combination of elevation, geological age, sun exposure, rainfall patterns, and flora cause different parts of the trail to turn out so differently?
The final approach into Sunrise was mostly a descent. Each of the camps we stayed at had its own unique character; we had learned previously that each camp's staff lives there for the summer, so they kind of develop their own culture. An early striking thing about Sunrise was the colorful hand-drawn signage, pointing the way to fresh water, to toilets, and so on. We hiked through the backpacker's camp and past the spread-out tents before finally reaching the main office. This was a bit different as well: while it seems like Glen Aulin planned room assignments in advance, at Sunrise it seems like we got assigned upon checkin.
We turned out to have a pretty fantastic assignment: Cabin 3 was on the eastern edge of the camp, and just past a boulder to a fantastic outcropping that oversaw a sweeping view of a meadow and the surrounding mountains. We were soon joined by our cabin-mates, a pair of ladies from the San Diego area. They had come in on a grueling hike from the Cathedral Lakes trailhead, but like many other hikers were going to spend two nights in this camp before heading back.
Sunrise also had the nicest showers of any of the camps we stayed at: large, clean, and blissfully warm. We later learned that they have large black water bladders on the roof of the bathroom, which soaks up sun throughout the day and warms the water. Conversely, this was the one place we stayed at that did not have flush toilets, instead an elevated solar-composting toilet. This was smelly, but perfectly fine.
Supper was a nicely-seasoned trout, which was my second-favorite entree of the trip. We had the same cook as at Glen Aulin: apparently one of the cooks had gotten sick, so the remaining cooks needed to stretch themselves thin to cover them. He gave another great little talk to the guests after dinner. It was fun to recognize how many of us had been on this three-day journey together, and to see him connecting with new folks as well. Our roommates were delighted to realize that he had been their cook at Vogelsang in 2018, one of the last times before that camp closed.
After supper, pretty much everyone came out to that rocky overcrop to watch the sunset while we chatted. It was once again beautiful, with a pinky glow gradually suffusing the mountains. We woke up early enough the next day to watch the sunrise, coming up over the mountains as we watched. We had thought we might see some wildlife in the vast meadow during dusk or dawn, but it stayed quiet. In general there were fewer animals around than I would have thought. My dad saw a mule deer on our drive up, we didn't see many animals at all for our first day or so, then eventually saw a few cute little birds, an osprey, some marmots and chipmunks, and finally some deer near the end.
Our last breakfast was biscuits and gravy, along with oatmeal and, hm, maybe toast. My dad jokingly asked when they would bring us some carbs. Interestingly we didn't have any eggs during any of our breakfasts; I'm curious if this is a cost thing, or if they're too fragile to carry up the trails, or if they don't work well for the large servings they provide.
We'd been warned that the leg out would be long, but fortunately it was mostly a descent for us, starting at 9400 feet and ending around 8700. The hike out of Sunrise is glorious, along that beautiful large meadow. We steadily drew closer to the Cathedral Peaks, which I think were my favorite feature from my 2010 backpacking trip. It was so cool to get various looks at them as we approached and eventually passed them.
We paused for a nice long stay at Upper Cathedral Lake, yet another stunningly beautiful lake. The water was perfectly clear, and we got to see a trout happily swimming around and around a rock. We hiked further down, then took a side trail to Lower Cathedral Lake. That was my favorite camping spot in 2010, and it felt so special to be back there 16 years later with my dad. We ate lunch there, and my dad got to go for a proper (short) swim.
As we hiked further back, we passed more and more people: we were back within range of day-hiking, but also chatted with some people who were on weeks-long treks along the John Muir Trail or other very long expeditions.
Eventually we got back to the trailhead, picking up the JMT to bypass Tioga for the last bit. Along the way we were passed by a mule train, which was pretty fun: mules supply all of the camps, and we had been very grateful for their hard work.
Actually getting back to the Parsons Lodge trailhead was mildly deflating, as the water-pipe construction project was in full force, so we hear lots of CLANG THUD POW BAM CLANG sounds, instead of the peaceful nature sounds we'd been accustomed to over the previous days. But it was fine. We got back to our car, and I was pleased to see everything still intact, just slightly more dust than usual. In a few minutes, we were back at the Lodge and checked in for our final night!
This ended up being slightly different. When I initially got our cancellation, I was able to get the camps and the lodge for the day after our trip, but at the time there were no openings for the day before. I'd been keeping an eye open for availability, since they recommend spending the night before the trip at the higher elevation to give your body more time to acclimate. I was eventually able to get that cabin; but it was considered a "regular" reservation and not part of the High Sierra Camp loop. But our return night was part of that itinerary. This meant that as with the camps we would be sharing a cabin; but it also meant that we would get a free meal as part of our stay.
At the cabin, we were happy to see that we had been placed with the two gentlemen we had previously lodged with at May Lake. It was fun to swap stories with them; they were pleased to hear we had followed their instructions for the "secret" view of the Valley, and we enjoyed heading about the hiking they had done near May Lake on their second day.
At dinner, we were seated with a couple who were just about to head out on the same loop themselves. They were a really fun couple, great story-tellers, and we were able to bond over some shared family experiences.
Later that night, we attended a ranger talk at the fire pit outside the Lodge dining room. This was a free-flowing chat, where people would ask any random questions they had and the ranger would do her best to answer. We talked a lot about bats, which reminded me of a long-ago trip to Mammoth where I first learned that bats eat mosquitoes, at which point I decided that bats are awesome. I still feel that way! There were also chats about bighorn sheep, bears, ranger lodgings, winter hiking, and much more.
After that, many people drove up to Lembert Dome, where the same ranger gave a star talk. The Perseids were active, and it seemed like a larger-than-usual turnout as many people were hoping to see some of them. The ranger had a green laser pointer that she could use to point out constellations. It had been clear earlier, but partly clouded over around this time, so we could only see a few constellations. Still, we got to see the Big Dipper, Scorpio, Cassiopeia, and I think one or two others. I got to see a shooting star, so that was pretty fun!
This was definitely the latest night we stayed up; it still wasn't super-late, but most days we were in our cabins shortly after the sun went down. We slept pretty well. The next day we woke up a little early, and retraced the same hike as our first day, down the John Muir Trail to Twin Bridges. Here we got to watch the sunrise, which once again felt magical: next to a babbling brook, looking at a wide open meadow with mountains rising in the distance. It's such a beautiful place.
Back at the lodge, we ordered breakfast and ate with a couple from Munich who had come to the States specifically to hike in Yosemite. They weren't doing the High Sierra Camps but had already done a lot of great hikes in the valley floor and were looking forward to more in the Tuolumne area. They were going to visit San Francisco before flying home, and I enjoyed getting to share a few suggestions for fun ways to spend their time there.
Heading out, we stopped by Olmsted Point on our way out of the park. This is a fantastic scenic overlook right off of Tioga Road that has commanding views down into Yosemite Valley and out at the many mountains in the higher Sierras. I learned that Frederick Law Olmsted was one of the first commissioners of Yosemite Park after it was established by Abraham Lincoln; he also designed New York's Central Park. And, I learned from my dad, he also was instrumental in in designing Chicago's Lakeshore park! (Edit: Whoops, it was actually Jackson Park - thanks for the correction!) It's cool to see such a range of wild and urban lands thoughtfully considered by this one man, and so great to have grown up in a world where earlier planners thoughtfully set aside these green spaces for us to enjoy.
There's a short but rocky descent from the parking lot that brings you to an even nicer viewpoint, so we spent a little more time there, snapping a couple of final selfies. And then, up and out of the park!
This was such a great trip, and a fantastic return to backpacking after my seven-year hiatus. Nicely challenging but never scary or painful, it lived up to my hopes of a slightly more comfortable hiking experience that also let me fully inhabit these beautiful, remote, wild spaces. It was also really special to have my first-ever experience backpacking with someone else, swapping solitude for good conversation and company. I hope that the High Sierra Camps continue to operate and improve, and that others get to experience this really special opportunity.
