Backpacking in the Emigrant Wilderness

Summer 2022, Part 2: July 6 to 10

(Read Part 1)

After three days in the Desolation Wilderness, I left Lake Tahoe and headed south for the second leg of my extended backpacking trip in the summer of 2022. I was headed to Emigrant Wilderness, which borders Yosemite National Park, and would spend the next several weeks of my journey on trail alone.

I have enjoyed solo backpacking since 2018, when I set out on the John Muir Trail alone. I wake up when I want, walk as far as I want at whatever pace I want, and most of all, spend time in my “restorative niche,” a happy place for an introvert who spends many days performing the role of an extrovert.

But I was nervous about being alone this year. Last summer, I cut short a nine-day solo trip through southern Yosemite. I woke up on the second day feeling a crushing loneliness that didn’t go away, as well as physical manifestations of anxiety, though I didn’t recognize it as such at the time. So I bailed. Would I fare any better now, one year later?

I drove from Tahoe City to the tiny town of Walker, CA, for a comfortable night at the Toiyabe Motel, a delicious meal at Walker Burger, and a little bathtub laundry.

In the morning, I headed over Sonora Pass (on Hwy 108) to pick up my wilderness permit from the Summit Mi-Wok Ranger District, and then returned to Baker Campground near the Kennedy Meadows Resort, a rustic lodge with a restaurant, grocery store, showers, and laundry.

Baker was a quiet campground with spacious and somewhat private sites. Mine overlooked the Stanislaus River, and I passed many peaceful hours at my picnic table contemplating being alone for the next several weeks.

The ability to sit for hours and do nothing but think and watch a river flow! There was literally nothing else for me to do. And it was something I would get very good at as the summer wore on. The absence of distraction is a rare and beautiful thing.

With this in mind, and remembering the support of my friends and family back home, I decided I would, in fact, be quite happy on my own over the next several weeks.

In the morning, I moved my car to the hiker parking lot and walked the 1.5 miles to the trailhead to begin my five-day, 55-mile solo trek into the Emigrant Wilderness.

The trail began with great promise, following the river, which periodically cascaded down as the terrain climbed in elevation, and the trail along with it.

Soon, however, the day heated up, the mosquitoes woke up, the views became hidden by tree cover, and the trail degraded into a series of crumbly washouts.

After ten miles and 2600 feet of elevation gain, I quit for the day at the edge of Lunch Meadow, in a nice spot near some granite slabs along Summit Creek.

In the morning, I woke to a clatter of heavy footsteps on the granite slope behind my tent, and, if you can imagine it, what might have been a deer or some other large prey screaming in terror. Then… silence. What was that I said about enjoying solitude? Yikes!

After deciding to believe I was NOT about to be attacked by a mountain lion, I cautiously eased out of my tent, packed up camp, continued on my way. The trail followed the edge of Lunch Meadow before climbing over Mosquito Pass, which afforded open views, plenty of wildflowers, and lots of granite. Things were looking up!

Five miles on, I reached Emigrant Lake, feeling unusually tired. I rested for an hour, planning to continue on to Buck and Letora Lakes, for a total of 11 miles.

Emigrant Lake is a large and long lake, and the scene got prettier and prettier the further I walked. Before long, though, the trail turned away from the lake, the day heated up, and I found myself facing steep switchbacks down to Buck Lake.

I paused to check in with myself. I was tired. Like, really tired. There was no reason for me to be as tired as I was. I had only walked five miles that morning and had taken a long rest at the lake. And yet a deep fatigue had set in.

The thing about anxiety–the thing I didn’t know in Yosemite in 2021– is that it can jack up your body in weird ways, including fatigue. I could fight it and push on. But I wasn’t out here to fight.

So I turned around and retreated to Emigrant Lake. I spent the afternoon practicing my new hobby of doing nothing. I watched fish jump. I looked at plants. I read my book. I studied the granite. I spelled words from sticks, stones, and cones. I stared into space. I went to bed early.

It was great.

On the morning of day three, I decided to return the way I came rather than push through the 55-mile loop I had planned. By doing so, I avoided losing thousands of feet of elevation that I would just have to regain and gave my body a couple extra recovery days before the third leg of my trip, the North Lake to South Lake Loop. I also avoided what other hikers on the trail were calling the worst mosquito pressure they’d ever experienced. So, yay for that.

So three days and 32 miles later, I was back at Kennedy Meadows, where I enjoyed a burger at the resort, paid for a shower, and spent one more night at Baker Campground before heading south on Highway 395 towards Bishop, CA.