Just upstream from my night-three campsite, the Tuolumne River crashes over these boulders before sliding across a wide granite apron and into the deep pool where I got water. For about the next 10 miles, sights and sounds of the Tuolumne will be similar, if not more dramatic and spectacular. Except for the bypass of Muir Gorge, the river will be a constant hiking companion for the next couple of days.
Continued from Part 3: Entering Yosemite’s Grand Canyon.
The goal for today, my fourth on the trail, would be to camp just below Waterwheel Falls, the most famous of the named waterfalls up canyon. This would leave either a chip-shot to Glen Aulin, or a longer hike to Tuolumne Meadows (on a Saturday) where I might find a spot to camp. That decision would essentially settle the “extra day” which was created when I decided not to go up to the Ten Lakes Basin. It would either be an extra day in the canyon or an extra day in the high country. It would not be a decision I’d make today — the 10 or so miles of gentle to steep climbing would be enough to deal with.
The climb began immediately. The trail zig-zagged up the canyon, rising a couple hundred feet over the thundering river. The haze seemed worse than the day before, and the low-angled sun seemed to have difficulty penetrating it. On the plus side, the trail stayed in the shade for much of the early climbing.
I saw very few people along this trail. I suppose those few who were in Pate Valley were heading up toward White Wolf, following the trail I descended. I would eventually be overtaken by a group of family and friends who were accompanied by 9-year-old Mason, a Scout and obviously quite a trooper. This was his greatest, longest, and most difficult backpack, and his face showed it. He would end up being more chipper later, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
After 3 miles, I had gained a net 500 or so feet. The rolling trail wandered away from the river off and on, passing through forests of pine, oak, and other lower elevation trees (think scrub) and by dozens of jumbled piles of boulders, each providing a hiding hole for some forest beastie. With the eerie light of the morning haze, one’s imagination could run wild, fathoming what horrors lurked in the shadows along the trail. The immense scale of things in Yosemite is greatly apparent in this portion of the Grand Canyon of the Tuolomne. Boulders are the size of houses. The fact that they crashed down from the surrounding cliffs, themselves well over 2,000 feet above the river, creates a disquieting sense that another will join them at any second. The river itself is dozens of feet wide. Trees are at least 100 feet tall. The pine cones they drop are bigger than my hat. Add the shroud of haze and some high clouds, and the whole scene seems taken from Middle Earth.
The trail found its way back to the river’s edge, skirting it for some distance before the river veered away. Upstream, the Tuolumne passes through dark, wild Muir Gorge, a place where no trail leads. It can be seen from one small stretch of the trail as a steep-sided chasm, made more mysterious by the persistent haze and low sun. A collection of waterfalls pours from its mouth as though the river were jubilant in its exit from an oppressive prison.
The trail climbs nearly 1,000 feet from this viewpoint over the next mile and a half, the bulk of which occurs in a scant third of a mile as it bypasses Muir Gorge. But first it winds across a smaller side canyon cut by Register Creek. A pleasant grotto features a surprisingly vibrant waterfall — which I dubbed Surprise Waterfall — and deep pool of clear, cold water. The natural air conditioning from the waterfall, even a little spray, and the shade from the cliff made this a delightful place to stop and rest.
It was here that I encountered two athletic guys, both going in the same direction I was. They also stopped for water but headed on, wanting to get the climb around Muir Gorge completed before the sun got too high. In between them and the arrival of the rest of their party, I explored the waterfall grotto, got water, had a trail bar, and relaxed for more than half an hour. The other group came up, some carrying very heavy-looking packs, and I told them the other two had gone on to the trail summit. I departed, determined to reach the top before the 9-year-old and his pack-weary father.
The goal was rather simple. Climb up the steep ridge to just underneath a tall, lonely pine tree. I rather surprised myself, bolting up the numerous switchbacks in just over half an hour. It helped that they were mostly in the shade. The trail topped out at just over 5,900 feet, about 1,400 feet higher than I started that morning. I met the two athletic guys, and we sat in the minimal amount of shade under some brush. The rest of their party followed, and we hiked down the other side together after they rested a bit.
We saw a rattlesnake by the trail, the first of several snakes I’d see over the next few days (though the only poisonous one). We parted company when they reached their chosen campsite, and I continued on along the increasingly open granite slopes beside the rushing river and its numerous cascades and falls.
Finding a camping space proved difficult. I reached Return Creek, knowing there would be good sites there. Someone had placed his tiny tent in a large site, the only one with trees I could reasonably tie up to. I searched for over an hour, including an ill-advised off-trail scramble that left me exhausted and cut up. The trail got steeper upstream from Return Creek, and I passed up and down it several times, hoping to spy something. I knew if I headed on toward Waterwheel Falls, which was less than a mile away, my chances of finding a spot would thin. Eventually, I found a spot near a place where the river crashes over boulders, and a rock outcrop offers both access to the water and a nice view of the raging river.
This ended up being one of my better night’s sleep, probably because of all the energy I spent searching for a camping spot and hiking 10.8 miles. However, I didn’t feel refreshed in the morning. In fact, my legs felt like lead. This day would be a short one, distance-wise, but I would still gain 1,500 feet of elevation on my way to Glen Aulin. If I liked the backpackers’ camp, I would stay there. I needed this fifth day of hiking to be more relaxing than the previous days’ efforts.
Since I wasn’t camped too far below it, Waterwheel Falls was the first of the day’s many impressive waterfalls. Along this granite flat, the waters of the Tuolumne River are shot into the air in a series of arcs resembling — much more so at higher spring flows — a spinning wheel. The photo does not do it justice. It is significantly larger and more awesome than it appears. Part of the problem is the lousy camera angle. Had I not just started my trekking for the day, I probably would have taken off the pack and ventured down the rocks a bit to find a better spot. Waterwheel Falls is the lowest of the named falls in the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne.
After 500 feet of total elevation gain and about 1.25 miles from camp, I next encountered Le Conte Falls, which features a long sliding cascade and then a steeper drop peppered with waterwheel-like sprays. Many people hiking from Glen Aulin or Tuolumne Meadows mistake it for Waterwheel Falls, and it’s not hard to.
As the trail continues climbing, it passes a number of other smaller cascades, flumes, falls, chutes, and aprons. Each one marks another climb in the trail, and it keeps on climbing until it finally reaches a level area called Glen Aulin (”beautiful valley”). There, magically, the river goes quiet, serene, still, resembling a lake. It’s twists and turns are broader, weaving gently in and out of forests and meadows.
Wildflowers were in full bloom, covering the open spaces all the way to the canyon walls. Lupine was especially prevalent, blooming a light purple in the splashes of sunshine. A forest fire had blown through this area, clearing the landscape for blooming plants and young trees. It also opened vistas of the surrounding mountains, such as Wildcat Point.
By noon, I had reached the Glen Aulin High Sierra Camp. Unlike virtually everything else in Yosemite, the backpackers’ camp does not take reservations. There is no fee to camp there. There are designated sites, but some of the signs are missing, and there’s an open feel to the place. My dead legs were done, save for some exploring around the camp, particularly its striking waterfall and pool. I set up camp and napped in my hammock for awhile. Then it was time to explore.
Continues in Part 5: Glen Aulin to Cathedral Lakes.
The complete trip report:
Part 1: Yosemite Valley and Glacier Point Dayhikes
Part 2: Porcupine and Yosemite Creeks
Part 3: Entering Yosemite’s Grand Canyon
Part 4: Walking Among the Waterfalls
Part 5: Glen Aulin to Cathedral Lakes
Part 6: The Tempest
Part 7: Sunrise to Clouds Rest
Part 8: Facing Fear on Half Dome
Part 9: Triumph Atop Half Dome
Part 10: The Final Miles
Part 11: From Woods to Wharves
Part 12: The Streets of San Francisco
Part 13: Muir Woods and Foggy Shores
Tags: backpacking, grand canyon of the tuolumne, jul08 yosemite trip, tuolumne river, waterfalls, yosemite national park