High in the Upper Kern River drainage, water dashes over the rocks of Tyndall Creek.
Tyndall Creek is in one of my most favorite areas of the Sierra Nevada. It runs between Shepherd Pass (located on the Sierra Crest a bit north of Mount Whitney) and the upper reaches of the Kern River in Sequoia National Park. It begins, more or less, in a small, barren lake right on the crest at the verge of the drop-off into Shepherd Pass, flows gently westward through alpine rock gardens as it descends towards timberline, and then drops more quickly to join the Kern a few miles later. It crosses the John Muir Trail where one encounters almost the first trees after descending from 13,200′ Forrester Pass to the north. Quite a few JMT travelers camp at this spot – partly because of the shelter of the trees and partly because of the terraced rocks over which the creek passes here.
Late afternoon light on the forest and distant peaks on Upper Bubbs Creek, Kings Canyon National Park.
Since this photograph comes from an entirely different adventure, a bit of background information is probably in order. Among my summer pack trips, each year I join my friends from the talusdancers, a loosely connected group of folks who like to backpack, for at least one “big trip” in the Sierra. I’ve been doing this for nearly 15 years now. This year’s trip revisited some familiar spots (Tyndall Creek in the upper Kern), some that I had not visited for quite a few years (Forrester Pass), and one area that I have never before visited despite thinking about it for over 30 years (Milestone Basin and the Lake South America area). Near the end of July we headed out of Onion Valley to cross Kearsarge Pass, turned south to enter the Upper Kern River drainage via Forrester Pass, explored there for a few day, and then exited by way of brutal Shepherd Pass.
Forrester Pass is the second-highest point on the John Muir Trail (or “the JMT,” as most refer to it) at 13,200′, and we planned to cross it from north to south on the third day of our trip. At the end of day two we dropped down to Vidette Meadow and then headed up canyon to upper Bubbs Creek where the old Center Basin trail splits off from the main JMT where we made camp. This photograph was made in the late afternoon as we lazed about, doing a bit of laundry and thinking about the big climb ahead of us the next day. The view beyond the foreground and the closer trees is back down the canyon of Bubbs Creek, with the lowering sun lighting the canyon walls.
This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.
I have backpacked in California’s Sierra Nevada range for quite a few decades. A number (a large number!) of years ago my wife and I went on a two-week trans-Sierra backpack trip that traversed the range from west to east between Crescent Meadow and Whitney Portal, following a route known as the “High Sierra Trail.” On the third morning we left our camp and began the stiff ascent toward the pass we had to cross to enter the Kern River drainage. Near the top of the steepest part of the climb the trail momentarily leveled out and we found ourselves facing a high, rockbound lake with a perfectly vertical patterned rock face dropping straight into the water on the far side. The view seemed familiar – and I realized that it was a scene captured by Ansel Adams (“Frozen Lake and Cliffs“) in the early 1930s. (I also later realized that there is a wonderful and well-known photograph of the subject by Vern Clevenger.)
My wife and I were enthusiastic about photography in those days, too, and we carried a couple of Pentax SLRs and a few lenses and many rolls of film into the back-country. But I don’t think I came back with more than a few “snapshots” of this lake on that trip.
Fast-forward a few decades to 2008 when a group of my backpacking friends decided to follow this same trans-Sierra route — and, of course, I had to join them. Once again, I found myself ascending the trail toward that small bowl, but this time I had a plan to photograph the lake and the equipment to do it right. I recalled parts of the climb from my previous trip, but I had probably forgotten more than I remembered during the intervening decades. As the trail traverses a beautiful wet section full of wildflowers (which I had forgotten) I could tell that the lake was just ahead, and soon I topped a small saddle and saw the familiar scene before me.
As planned, I set to work doing some of the photography that I had contemplated before the trip. To be honest, I mainly worked from more or less the location that Adams must have used, though the conditions were a bit different on this day – the light was changeable as broken clouds passed above, and there was very little snow, much less ice, left at the lake. After perhaps 30 or 45 minutes of work, my hiking partners were getting restless and it was time to move on. I felt that I had worked this scene about as much as possible under the circumstances – and I did get a photograph of the “classic view” that I like a great deal — so I loaded up my heavy 9-day backpack load, put away the camera, and strapped the tripod to the outside of the pack. I hoisted the load and slowly started up the switchbacks immediately above the lake.
A couple of switchbacks up the trail I happened to look back at the lake from a slightly higher vantage point, and from here the astonishing deep blue color of the lake and the apron of rocks falling into the water became visible. My first reaction was a combination of “Wow!” and “No way am I taking this pack off and setting all that stuff up again!” Continue reading A Photograph Exposed: “Submerged Boulders, Lake, and Cliffs”→
The west face of Mount Whitney at sunset, viewed from Guitar Lake
Near the end of my early August 2008 trans-Sierra pack trip from Crescent Meadow to Whitney Portal we found ourselves at Guitar Lake, the traditional base camp for west side approaches to Mount Whitney. We arrived fairly early to set up camp, and after lazing around and finally getting dinner it was time to do some photography – so I took my equipment and headed to the outlet of the lake where I made this photograph as the last sun hit the peak and was reflected in the lake.
