Hiker. Blogger. Photographer. CrossFitter. Dog Owner. Austinite.
The Two Passes
Approaching Snowyside Pass
The fourth day of backpacking in the Sawtooths required me to traverse two high mountain passes, as I moved from the “main loop” as I called it to the Pettit-Toxaway Loop, where my resupply awaited near the shore of Pettit Lake (Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3). Previous blog entries cover much of the hiking to and over Sand Mountain Pass and Snowyside Pass, so this entry will cover the rest of the day and put the passes in context. It is August 15, my fourth day on the trail.
I awoke to a cold, clear morning. The rain and clouds of the previous day were gone. It was 32 degrees at sunrise. The plants on the ground were covered in frost, but the air was dry. It was a very cold start to the day, and I didn’t get off to a particularly quick start. My campsite was located on a high mound separating Vernon and Edna Lakes, a site chosen in a successful attempt to thwart the mosquito hordes. I packed up and hit the trail about 8:15 a.m. Well, I picked my way down the mound’s steep back side until reaching the trail, which I followed past the horse train’s camp and on to the glorious shore of Edna Lake.
Morning at Edna Lake
From here, the trail slides slowly uphill as it turns north, drawing away from Edna Lake’s eastern shore. It reaches a trail junction about 75 feet above the water. In three days, I’d be back at this spot to continue trekking north. On this day, my journey required taking the right fork, which marches 750 feet up to Sand Mountain Pass. It is 4 miles from Edna Lake (8,404 feet) over the pass (9,303 feet) and down to Toxaway Lake (8,323 feet), one of the most spectacular in the Sawtooths.
The trail turns away from the lake and climbs gradually, eventually reaching a drainage, which it follows for some distance. The pass is evident on the valley’s steep head wall, a depression straight ahead. It was a pleasant hike in the early morning light, though the sun was in my face. There was some water flowing in the creek, burbling and warbling over miniature waterfalls. It passes an unnamed lake with a flat island in its middle.
Views of Sand Mountain improved as the trail continued a fairly gentle climb. Sand Mountain looks very different from its neighbors. Its reddish hue contrasts sharply with the gray granite peaks, and its harsh slopes are barren, save an occasional solitary tree growing impossibly from roots in the rubble. Once the trail reaches about 9,050 feet, it begins a series of well-designed switchbacks up the boulder-strewn slope.
I reached the pass around 9:45 a.m. and stopped for a snack and to soak up the views. I sat with my back against the wind-blasted remnants of what was once a grand tree. Its hollow trunk provided an effective wind break — It was breezy on the passes — and a nice place to look at the mountains I’d be seeing for the next several days. Two trails lead east from the pass. The left fork heads over a series of passes to the Hellroaring drainage. It would be my return trip. The right fork heads down to Toxaway Lake and Snowyside Pass.
After about 25 minutes, I put my pack back on and began the descent. After the pass, the trail actually climbs to a shelf just below the rounded dome of rock to the south. The views would only get better as impossibly blue Toxaway Lake appeared. The trail descends imperceptibly as it swings southwestward, until the whole of Toxaway Lake appears. Toxaway Lake’s shoreline is 1,000 vertical feet from the trail’s high point. A series of steep switchbacks drops straight down the wildflower covered southern flank of Sand Mountain. The lake amazes at every turn, as does impressive Snowyside Peak.
Toxaway Lake and Snowyside Peak
I reached a rock outcrop on the shoreline at 11:30. I spent an hour here, gathering water, having my hot meal, and soaking up the incredible views. I wished I could have spent longer. I will definitely camp here should I return.
A confusing network of social trails covers the northern shore of Toxaway Lake, and I followed several to dead ends before finally relocating the main trail. The trail curves around the western shore of the lake before traversing a marshy area at the lake’s inlet. A muddy hop across the creek led to a slight climb up a wildflower-covered hillside.
From here, the trail climbs steadily as it heads southeast into a narrowing canyon beneath Snowyside Peak. The nearby creek tumbles down the hillside in a long series of cascades and chutes. The mostly open canyon floor is littered with rocks and boulders once a part of the massive mountain. A series of small lakes sit in depressions about a mile below the pass.
Clouds began to gather overhead, though mostly for dramatic effect. This was one of the best days for photography on the trip. The trail grew rockier as I neared the pass, as the views back to the north rewarded every step, and every pause.
I was expecting the trail to make for a low point just east of the summit of Snowyside Peak. However, the trail kept drifting north, and climbing, the evident result of its being rerouted. I was actually a little nervous about this pass, as the guide books said snow clings to its northern face deep into the summer. This revised route would avoid the shadowy area where the snow might remain, picking a more east-west path over the ridge. While I doubt there was any snow on the old pass route, there were large patches of snow on the mighty peak.
It took about two hours to hike to the pass from Toxaway Lake’s northern shore. The final pitch was a steep series of short switchbacks, gaining nearly 400 feet almost straight up the northwest-facing rockface. The pass itself was a narrow notch in the massive mountain wall (photo at the top of this post).
Twin Lakes from Snowyside Pass
Crossing the pass, the views become downright incredible. The Twin Lakes lie like vast glittering jewels at the feet of a curtain of steel gray teeth. The trail makes a slow, gently descending traverse of a huge ledge high above the lakes, eventually passing them by. It was difficult to focus on the narrow, rocky trail with the lakes and peaks distracting me.
The rerouted trail does not go to the Twin Lakes. It provides aerial views only — spectacular though they are — as it gets no closer to the shore than 100 feet of elevation. A side trail leads down to the lakes. I opted not to visit them, as the day was getting late and I wanted to get to camp at Alice Lake.
As the trail swings farther around to the east, views improve down the canyon, with mighty El Capitan dominating the skyline. The gathering clouds were quickly sapping the sun’s strength, and the afternoon grew cold. I picked up my pace as I drew nearer to my intended destination. Rounding a bend in the trail, I saw something perched on a boulder at the bottom of the turn, and it saw me, just as startled as I was.
A slender, tan body with a light belly, long, graceful legs and a feline head leaped from the rock straight in my direction, causing me to recoil instinctively. It was graceful and powerful, and I watched its body quickly disappear into the brush between us. It did not reappear. The mountain lion — The locals call them cougars. — did not want a conflict, and I was perfectly agreeable to its wishes. I figure I woke it from a slumber on a rock still partially in the sun, and it took cover. I really wanted a photograph but thought better of it, instead choosing to pick a path off-trail which gave the hidden cat a wide berth, and I made no attempt to locate its steel eyes in the brush.
My first encounter with a mountain lion lasted less than a second, and I wouldn’t even confirm what I’d seen until I discussed it with rangers days later.
I reached my chosen campsite on the west shore of Alice Lake about a quarter to seven. Within minutes, the sun dropped below the mountains. I hung my hammock between two pines set about 10 feet from the water on a promontory surrounded by white boulders. Without realizing it, I’d set up less than 50 yards from a couple, whose dome tent blended into the shadows of the trees. Another group was camped not too far north of me. The temperature had already dipped to 40 degrees, but at least there were no mosquitoes.
When I thought there would be no hope of a sunset, a shaft of the fading sun’s light found the sheer face of El Capitan, for a brief instant.
El Capitan and Alice Lake, as seen from my campsite.
I settled in for a cold night wearing a wool base layer (top and bottom), hiking shirt, Montbell down jacket, fleece jacket, fleece pants, hiking pants, wool socks, and a wool cap. Somewhere in all that was a chemical body warming pad, my first of the trip. I figured I’d fall asleep quickly, though my brain pondered a bit of a backpacking absurdity. I’d hiked more than 9 miles and crossed two mountain passes, yet ended up gaining a mere 148 feet of elevation from the previous night’s campsite.
Snowyside Pass, SW09-0815-5543R, UTM 11T 0663675 E 4867451 N NAD 27;Edna Lake, SW09-0815-5408R, 0661337 E 4870016 N, Sawtooth Wilderness, Boise National Forest | Closing in on Toxaway Lake, SW09-0815-5487R, 0662541 E 4869751 N; Twin Lakes From Snowyside Pass, SW09-0815-5556R, UTM 11T 0663905 E 48678510 N; Alice Lake, SW09-0815-5589R 0665124 E 4867216 N, Sawtooth National Forest, Idaho | ©2009 Jeff Blaylock
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