Two Peaks - August 2020

  

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If The Smoke Don't Get You, The Brush Will

 

It was a Saturday morning at breakfast. Because of all the current issues - covid, smoke, wildland fires - we were not traveling and staying close to home.

"What do you want to do today?" the Lady asked.

I replied, "Climb Two Peaks."

I knew the answer would get an immediate happy dance from the Lady and away we went. A short drive from home and we reached the Desolation Wilderness trailhead, although our destination was outside the Wilderness.

 

We chatted with three young women at the trailhead and offered a suggestion to add to their three day backpack trip. We hiked down to the Bassi Fork of Silver Creek. Smoke from fires hung in the air. Two Peaks tried to stand out to the south.

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you wish to become proficient with navigation using topo maps, it's important to pull out your map often and observe the depiction of the terrain with contour lines on the map and constantly compare it to the real world. It is also important to consider perspective. The topo map indicates the eastern summit of Two Peaks (on the left in photos above) is 18 feet higher than the western peak, but from this perspective (angle) it sure looks lower.

 

The trails and intersections in this area are not signed. Prior knowledge (research and planning) and a map & compass are essential for ease of finding your way or as we practice, "Staying Found."

 

Hiking south from Bassi Fork we came upon a land survey poster tacked to a tree.

 

 

 

 

A little understanding of the Public Lands Survey System (PLSS), that dates back to the founding of our United States, and a map can quickly pinpoint actual location on the ground, a gold mine in the exercise of "staying found".

 

This "bearing tree" poster gives directions to a land survey monument. The monument is a bit over 17 feet away. The direction (or bearing) to the monument is South 8° West (S8W). Surveyors use a quadrant compass. Most outdoors people, as we do, use an azimuth compass with the compass circle divided into 360 degrees, so a conversion is necessary. South is 180° and add the 8° to the west (if the shift was to the east, the 8° would be subtracted). This makes the bearing 188° (all bearings are in relation to True North and we, of course, use magnetic declination adjustable compasses that enable the us to "speak the language of true north" as all USGS topo maps do.

 

Standing at this poster with our back to the tree and our compass indicating a "direction of travel" line of 188°, a bit over 17 feet away we found this -

 

 

 

 

The poster states Section 4 of Township T12N R15E. Here is a photo of the map and with section 4. PLSS land survey lines on USGS topographic maps are always in the color red.

 

 

 

 

The poster and monument indicate this as the CN 1/16 Corner. This can get complicated in a hurry, so don't over think this. I find it easiest to take it a step at a time along with an already good idea of where we are on the map. Refer back to the above map and section 4. Section 4 has four section corners - the four corners of the square. If I divide section 4 into four quarters as in the photo below -

 

 

 

 

- I have added five 1/4 Corners, north, south, east, west, and center.

 

 

It is common to divide a quarter of a section into quarters and these are 1/16 quarters of Section 4. This "quartering" adds 1/16 corners and on the map below I've "quartered" up the NW1/4 of Section 4 and have CN1/16 marked - our location on the map.

 

 

 

 

We already have a known "position line" on the map - we are hiking southeast on the Two Peaks Trail, the dashed black line crossing Section 4.

 

Land survey posters and monuments are found on our public lands.  With a little knowledge  and practice, we now had a confirmation of our location - we were "found".

 

We continued on the trail toward Two Peaks. The smoke worsened.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We reached the eastern side of Two Peaks and left the trail and climbed the open granite slabs. The skies were a bit better to the east.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is an old historic - not shown on maps - trail to the top of the eastern peak. There are trail blazes still visible cut into trees.

 

 

 

 

Do you also notice the bend in the trunks of the Red Firs? This is caused by winter's deep, heavy snow pack creeping down slope.

 

We crossed the trail and continued straight up to the summit ridge. Desolation Wilderness'  Crystal Range spread across the east.

 

 

 

 

We turned south to the summit.

 

 

 

 

The more rugged western summit looked oh, so close.

 

 

 

 

Mortimer Flats, Slick Rock, and Icehouse Reservoir (almost obscured by the smoke) lay to the southwest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lady always loves being on top. The horizontal fracturing of the granite creates amazing knobs on both summits of Two Peaks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was time to drop to the saddle between the peaks. We headed north down the ridge and then turned west.

 

 

 

 

We both remembered, from our last time on top around 2007, a rough use trail that dropped down to the saddle. We did not find it. Either our memories were faulty or the brush has grown. The descent was miserable through Huckleberry Oak. There was at least a hundred yards of never touching the ground with our feet, walking on branches, and holding on to brush. Experience had taught us, "This will be a long pants day."

 

 

 

 

Reaching the saddle, it was now climbing up through the huge granite blocks and pockets of Mountain Hemlock.

 

 

 

 

 

In a hop, skip, and a jump, as we say, we were on the top.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's a telephoto shot of Mortimer Flats and a group of mules and riders coming off of the use trail to the top of Slick Rock.

 

 

 

 

Union Valley Reservoir to the west was barely visible through the smoke.

 

 

 

 

What goes up must come down. Concerning Two Peaks, that means descending granite blocks and climbing over down Mountain Hemlocks and Red Firs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Again from out last trip here, we remembered a faint use trail from the saddle south to the base of Two Peaks. It did not exist. An epic descent through huckleberry oak did.

 

 

 

 

Either tough or stupid, and most likely a mixture of both, we finally reached flatter terrain. We followed a system of meadows and then intersected back with the Two Peaks Trail and followed it back to the trailhead. This made for a rugged 14 mile round trip. Smoke had cleared somewhat as we looked back at Two Peaks.

 

 

 

 

It had been a wonderful day of smoke and brush. And, after a thorough inspection, no ticks. A very pleasant surprise.

 

Note: Two Peaks Trail passes by Two Peaks on the east side. It does not go to either summit.

 

 

Monitor Pass - August 2020

 

 please remember you can click on a photo to see a larger version & highlighted text are links to additional information

 

 

The Escape

 

"It's 111° here," our friend Ted reported as we chatted on the phone late Friday afternoon.

"It's 93° here," I replied. "When it hits 90° here, we consider it gawdawful hot; hotter than the hinges of Hades."

The previous day the temperature had climbed to 95.9°, the hottest we'd ever seen in 30 years of living in our house. The previous record was 95°. To be fair, the coldest we'd ever seen it here was 5°, one of our first winters.

"Is your camper packed?" we asked.

"We're going to start cooling the refrigerator tomorrow," Ted answered. It takes a long time to bring it down when it's 111°."

"We might head to cooler high country Sunday morning," we continued.  "We don't want to see what we might see on a Saturday around here. Maybe the masses will be heading out Sunday morning."

The Lady added, "I've been watching the point forecast for Monitor Pass - high of 77° with 30% chance of thundershowers. I want to sit up high in cooler temperatures. I want to escape!"

"Keep us posted." Ted finished.

 

We packed the truck Sunday morning and arrived at one of our favorite spots on Monitor Pass around 10:30 in the morning. We were pleased that the area was fairly empty. Perhaps school kids returning to school was working to reduce the huge influx of flatland pilgrims we've been hit with.

 

We leveled the truck by driving up on large rocks in front, raised the top, and set up camp. I set up our two camp chairs.

"What are you doing?" the Lady asked. "Let's go climb those high points and watch for the Teds to drive in."

"What happened to 'I want to sit?'" I asked.

 

Away we went through the sage and junipers. We must have missed the Teds as we were down climbing the backside of a summit outcropping. We noticed they had arrived and were setting up camp as we circled back.

 

After lunch, the sky darkened but the storm skirted us to the west and then dropped into the Carson Valley to the north.

 

 

Later in the afternoon we noticed that smoke from the Loyalton fire had filled the Carson Valley.

 

 

With the active cloud cover, we hoped for nice evening light as we enjoyed our dinners.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The show started as darkness came. Songs from coyotes around us announced the beginning. The storms were too far to the east into Nevada to hear thunder, but the flashes of lightning lit up the sky. Lightning played across the tops of clouds. It was spectacular but we could not help but worry about all the possible fire starts. We climbed into our campers around nine and fell asleep to the continuing flashes outside.

 

The overnight temperatures for sleeping were glorious. Cool mountain air at 8500 feet fit the bill perfectly.

 

The next morning started out in our usual fashion. I climbed out of the camper early as the Lady commenced with her well practiced "fussing". This covers getting up, washing up, getting dressed, etc., and happily ends with two steaming mugs of Peets Coffee.

I usually wander away and time my return to intercept delivery of one of those mugs. This morning I wandered the dirt road back toward the pavement, curious if anyone had moved into one of the other dispersed sites during the night.

 

Ted was up when I returned. The Lady exited our camper with the coffee and announced she wanted to walk the road toward Leviathan Peak. Off she went. I followed a few hundred yards behind, working to catch up. The Lady's tracks were in the left track. I quickly noticed new bear tracks in the right track, going the same direction as the Lady.

 

 

 

 

 

The tracks were not there the night before. I was surprised the Lady had not commented on the tracks. She does not miss much. Had the bear stepped in behind her, followed, and then quickly stepped off and disappeared? I found the spot where the bear moved off the road and entered the sage. I caught up to the Lady and we returned to the tracks. It would be fun to figure out the puzzle and where was the bear? We returned to camp but on the way I returned to look at the road I had walked earlier. Sure enough, new tracks showed the bear had followed me, but turned on the other road as I turned up to camp. We had just missed seeing it.

 

Upon hearing our story, Julie & Mrs. Ted wanted to track the bear. Off we all went. The bear had not initially turned up the road toward Leviathan Peak, but had moved past our camp and then turned toward a small hill.

 

 

 

 

 

Through their see mores, the girls saw a possible cave in the rock outcropping and volunteered my services to go over, crawl inside, and see if ole fuzzy face was home. I obliged them. The depression was empty and not a den site. But, the junipers in the morning were beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

Ted, still fighting fatigue from chemotherapy, returned to camp. He had done well on this walk. Mrs. Ted continued on with us, wanting to check out a large aspen patch for the bear. We did our best to locate the critter, but without success. The Lady wanted to hike up to the top of Leviathan Peak. I joined her as Mrs. Ted also returned toward camp.

 

 

 

 

 

Just a hop, skip, and a jump and we were on top with the Lady busy checking all the views with her see mores.

 

 

 

 

 

Three quarters of the sky was blue, but we had the other one quarter to be concerned about.

 

 

 

 

 

The storm was coming from the southwest and it was time to get off the top.

 

Hail hit as we reached the base of the peak and started cross country back to camp. The cold hits on our shirts were wonderful but we hoped the storm would pass before soaking us or driving us to seek shelter. Thunder cracked overhead with cloud to cloud lightning. We returned to camp at noon and climbed into our camper. We stretched out in the bunk and listened to the rain and wind. The scent of wet sage and wet earth hung in the air and filled the camper. The rain turned to hard driving hail. The Lady read. I dropped off into a deep afternoon slumber.

 

The storm eased around dinner time. The Lady climbed out of the camper and said, "There has to be a rainbow. We must see the rainbow!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain returned and we ate dinner inside. The rain slowed and we again exited the camper and hoped we could take a walk before dark in the cool freshly washed air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sweetwater Mountains to the southeast were hit with ghostly light just at sunset.

 

 

 

 

 

We did walk in the evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Long pants, wool shirts, fleece hats, and rain coats signaled that we had accomplished our task of escaping the heat.

 

The night was wonderful with all the windows open. We slept so well and woke to delightful morning temps in the mid fifties. After a lazy morning, we packed up and thanked our good friends, the Teds,  for a wonderful quick two cool nights up high so close to home.

 

We took an alternate route home to do some exploring and be reminded of other possible quick getaway spots when the need arises to escape again.

 

Unfortunately, this line of thunderstorms pummeled the entire state and ignited wildfires across California that continue to rage. Be safe out there everyone.