2N/3D Backpacking to Thousand Island Lake, Part 3 (2024)

On day 3 of our backpacking trip through the Ansel Adams Wilderness, we finished our journey via the High Trail. For the previous days, you can read Day 1: Shadow and Ediza Lakes and Day 2: Garnet and Thousand Island Lakes.

Day 3: The High Trail

It was around 2:30AM when I heard D rustling in his bag. He said he needed to pee and I told him I'd join him because peeing in the woods by yourself in the dark is scary. The night air was surprisingly not that chilly, maybe in the mid-40's at worst.

As we walked to our spots, I looked up at the sky. It was incredible; the sky was so dark, no light pollution at all, and the stars hung in dense clusters and sparkled like crystals on a chandelier. Even unadjusted, my eyes could make out the faint arch of the Milky Way stretching over the lake.

I'm a little regretful that I wasn't able to do any astrophotography because of the shoulder pain and headaches and general exhaustion. But I did stay out for a few minutes longer to gaze up in wonder.

I couldn't get through the night still. Then alarm went off at 5:30AM. My body was hurting too much and I was too tired to move. The headache had worsened and I squeezed my eyes shut to sort of ease the tension. The Tylenol was still not doing anything for me. After 30 minutes of tossing around, I gave up trying to get more rest and got ready.

I climbed out of the tent around 6AM, hoping that I'd be able to catch some of those pretty pink hues from the sunrise. Unfortunately, I was up a bit too late and the sunlight had already lit up most of the mountain ridge.

I climbed back onto the marmot poop rock for some sunrise photos. And wheezed my way down to the lake to get some reflection photos.

I was really hoping to see some more wildlife in the early morning (maybe a fox or bobcat...) but all I got were marmots and deer. They're still cute though.

The deer looked at me curiously but was mostly unfazed by my presence. It was really peaceful standing in the crisp morning air, listening to the twitter of birds, and watching the deer quietly munch on flower bushes and grass.

Several hikers doing the Nüümü Poyo and PCT had already packed up and hiked out by the time I finished taking photos around 7AM. D and our friend had just started getting up. We had an even slower start that the previous morning at Ediza. All of us were feeling pretty shitty. To be completely honest, I couldn't wait to be done with the trail. I've accepted that it is 100% possible to both love what you're doing and appreciate all the wonderful moments you've experienced, and want to get the fuck out at the same time.

We made our breakfast, which was a cup of chai, two cubes of miso soup for each person, and probably one of the worst things I've ever eaten: the "Good To-Go" brands' "breakfast hash" with butternut squash. It sounded so good in theory but holy crap it was disgusting. Not only was I dealing with headaches, bodily aches and sharp pains, shortness of breath, and an upset stomach, but now I had to add nausea to the list. I took me over half an hour to get through it. I would've loved to just chuck it all, but it'd just be more pack weight and I needed the calories. It was crunchy even when fully-hydrated, very grainy (like what I imagine the texture of chicken feed to be like), and had an overwhelming amount of rosemary and oregano. I genuinely threw up a little while forcing myself to finish it all. Save yourself and don't waste your money and torture your taste buds with this!!

After breakfast, I was the first to go looking for a spot to "drop some pack weight", as our group took to saying. All the spots near the trees and rocks up the hill had already been taken (evidenced by moved dirt and rock mounds) and I didn't want the misfortune of accidentally digging into someone else's used cathole like D had done...twice. So I just kept climbing. Eventually I was at the top of the hill and reached a really pretty meadow with tons of Wyethia blooming (also known as Mule Ears and looks like a sunflower!). I was high up enough that no one could see me from below, and best of all, there were no mosquitoes!! Peace at last. There was a fat marmot sunbathing on the rock next to me and we maintained eye contact the whole time.

D asked me if I found any good spots after I returned. I told him about my spot and the marmot that might stare at him. When he came back, he told me that he and the marmot also had a stare down the whole time.

It was some time between 10:30-11AM when we finally started our hike out. And if we were going slow the last two days, it was nothing compared to our pace on the last day.

As we were hiking out of Thousand Island Lake, a snake slithered out of the brush and across the trail, just a foot or two in front of me! It climbed up and over a small rock by the lake before hitting the water and swimming down into the deeper parts of the lake. I yelled at everyone to look and we all scrambled to get pictures of it, but we were all too slow. Never seen a snake swim in the wild before! It looked like a type of whipsnake or gartner snake, but I couldn't be sure. Dark black/brown color with bright stripes on the side. It was my favorite wildlife sighting on the trip.

The AllTrails elevation profile said it'd be downhill from Thousand Island Lake and all the way to the end. This was unfortunately not entirely true. It was a lot of down and up between Thousand Island Lake and Badger Lakes, and then just straight up from the Clark Lakes junction.

We didn't make it to the Clark Lakes junction until 1PM even though we were only 3 miles out from Thousand Island Lake. I genuinely thought that because most of the hike out would be downhill, we would be able to finish by 2-3PM. Even if we had a late start like 10-11AM. So I was a little worried with how we were pacing because the shuttle stops running at 7PM and only comes every 45 minutes after 5PM. So...there were maybe two shuttles we could catch at most. We wouldn't be the first stop where people leaving Reds Meadow Valley would be getting on (in fact, we'd be the last stop), and that meant there was no guarantee there'd even be space for us. A little stressful to think about.

Between the Clark Lakes junction and the High Trail junction was about a mile of uphill hiking. I was stopping every few hundred feet for a break and for people to catch up. My right hip also started to bruise because of the pack sliding. So now both my hips were bruised and that was not fun.

It took us almost an hour to do that one mile and reach the High Trail junction.

As a reward, we stopped for a longer break because we needed to refuel and it looked like the last chance to be in the shade before officially starting the High Trail section. It had been about 6 hours since breakfast and I was getting a hunger headache (on top of the one I already had) and dizzy from low blood sugar. We had two bars left per person. Not a lot for the 7 miles of hiking we had left. Usually we overpack on snacks and food, so when we were preparing for this trip we tried be leaner. (Should've just packed more food). There was a dehydrated meal left (for an emergency overnight), but we couldn't afford the time it took to make the meal with how slow we were going.

We had also run out of Liquid I.V. for hydration and electrolytes. I brought 4 extra packs just in case, but because of how sunny and warm it was every day and how long our hikes took, we had used all 10 of them.

I also ran out of water twice on the hike out -- this means that I drank 7.5 liters of water! Never had that much water over just 9 miles. Somehow, I still had a super dry mouth and felt dehydrated the whole time.

Of course the saving grace was that the scenery was stunning. There are multiple trails you can take to return to Agnew Meadows; I chose the High Trail because it looked like it would be the most scenic of the options. It was indeed very scenic and made the stupid amount of uphill we had to do worth it.

The wildflowers on the High Trail were gorgeous. The mountain slopes were lush, green, and bursting with an abundance of lupins, mountain ash, woodbeauty (which look like strawberry flowers!), golden violets, paintbrush, lilies, irises, and soooooo much more.

There were so many flower species I'd never seen before and some were smaller than my pinky nail. You really had to be looking to see them. It's a good reminder of why staying on the trail is so important! These beautiful plants can be pretty inconspicuous and going off trail means that we're stomping all over them. Wildflowers have a very delicate and short lifespan, and tend to have shallow roots. Stepping off the trail not only crushes the flowers and prevents them from distributing their seeds, but it also compacts the soil and destroys the mycorrhizae and underground networks that transport oxygen and minerals to the plants. This recovery period can sometimes take several generations: destroyed patches won't be reproducing new flowers for a few years, or even more than 20 years for some species!

In California, 56% of our plant species are endemic, which means you can't find them anywhere else in the world. And once they're gone, they're gone. So take your photos from the trail (I promise they look just as nice, or get a zoom lens) and don't take that "shortcut" that some rando made because they were too lazy to take the switchback. Let's help the wildflowers out so they're happy, because everyone is happier when they get to see pretty wildflowers.

There were tons of creeks running down the mountainsides and over the trail, which created some beautiful moss gardens. It did make parts of the trail pretty muddy and gross though.

We ran into a couple along the way that was looking into the grass during a particularly muddy section where the trail had merged with a stream. I was curious what they were looking at, and they told me they found an orchid! I always thought that orchids more humidity-loving, epiphytic plants so it was really cool to learn that there are orchids that grow in alpine conditions and in muddy soil.

So many speedy, ultralight PCT and Nüümü Poyo hikers passed us on our way out. The ones who had time to chat told us that they were near the 1,000-mile mark and about 2-3 months in. I always fantasize about doing the PCT; both D and I dreamily discuss doing it someday.

I'm not so worried about the mileage or having to get dirty. I just haven't figured out how I'd manage my chronic pain issues, the IBS, and making sure I have enough supply of all my prescription medications. Whenever we go backpacking, I kind of just suck it up and soldier through the pain for the sake of the experience and because I know it's short-term. I can't imagine doing that for 6-7 months straight though. Someday when I'm not so broken, I'd really love to do it. Meeting people on the trail was so inspiring and made it feel like that could be me!

We were still about 2-3 miles out from Agnew Meadows around 3:30PM. The sun was already past the midway point in the sky and the light was coming in lower through the trees. The feeling of so close, yet so far hung heavy on our group. D and our friend kept asking me how much was left every 15-20 minutes, hoping that we'd magically gotten there faster.

I looked across the valley to the ridge on the other side at one point and saw Shadow Lake -- the very first lake we hiked to on day one! Even though the end felt interminable, it helped put into perspective how far we had come. If I looked closely enough, I could even see the trail we took, tracing up the mountainside next to the waterfall.

Seeing the drop of sparkling blue nestled between arms of granite, the once rambunctious waterfall that now looked like a trickle, and the trees looking like ants marching over face of the mountain, filled me with such awe and awareness of what a speck I am in the universe. We were down there just a few days ago! If the trees looked this small from up here, I don't think you'd even be able to see us going up the Shadow Creek trail. Even the great peaks that we camped under the shadows of at Ediza and Thousand Island Lakes could be pinched between my fingers.

This is the best part of hiking: being humbled (in a non-painful way). Being reminded that there are things greater and longer-lived than my short existence here will ever be.

Being laser-focused on finishing the trail was also a great distraction for me from all the altitude sickness symptoms besetting me. After seeing Shadow Lake, I think subconsciously my brain was like, "oh, I guess we're almost done, so I can stop working so hard to keep it together". The weird, stomach issues got dicier and harder to hold back. There was no coverage on the way down, so I had no choice but to just wait for us to be back at the trailhead.

We FINALLY hit the last descent and set of switchbacks after another hour. I told Dan that I couldn't wait anymore and said I would just meet the two of them at the trailhead.

I booked it.

I scurried down that trail, cheeks clenched and cold sweat breaking out from the effort, as quickly as I could with my pack and without destroying my knees. The last mile down was the fastest split we recorded on the whole trip.

I made it to the trailhead. I dropped my pack as quickly as I could, and ran into the outhouse with just seconds to spare. I surprisingly didn't get out much for all the discomfort and bloating I was feeling, which was very frustrating. The moment I stood up, I felt like I had to sit back down again. I think the altitude sickness had just completely wrecked my GI system.

After we'd regrouped, we had to walk another 0.5-miles from the trailhead to the Agnew Meadows shuttle stop. It was just after 5PM. At about 5:15PM, a shuttle heading towards Reds Meadow pulled over. The driver told us that we could either ride the rest of the loop with him to Reds Meadow and be guaranteed seats to get back to Mammoth (but it'd be an extra 45 minutes), or we could wait for a shuttle going in the Mammoth Lakes direction that would be arriving in the next 30 minutes that maybe would have seats for us. He also mentioned that even though there was another shuttle that would be at Agnew Meadows in the next 5-10 minutes, it was at full capacity. We decided to wait for the second shuttle that was coming in 30 minutes. The driver very kindly said he'd definitely squeeze us in if we were still stuck at the stop when he came back around.

True to his word, a shuttle arrived after another 10 minutes. I waved to the driver anyway, just in case the bus wasn't as full as he said. The driver was such an angel. He said that technically, he was at fire-hazard-capacity, but we must have looked really pitiful and raggedy because he told us to hop on and squeeze in. The three of us just barely fit in with our packs; we were squished right up to the front window and door.

D and I plopped down onto the floor. It was so nice to sit. We heard our driver radio to the one we talked to and tell him that he got us on the bus. I don't know if I can use this term as a non-thru-hiker, but that guy was my trail angel.

The bus swerved along the hairpin turns and switchbacks up Reds Meadow Road. It didn't even occur to me that I should've taken some dramamine beforehand; I'd already forgotten how windy it was on the way in. I had to add motion sickness to my physical-ills-bingo-card. It felt like my head was being slowly crushed by a hydraulic press.

It was a really, really rough ride. I was ready to collapse when we finally arrived back in Mammoth.

But we still had more walking to do. This is why the whole "backpackers can only park at lot B" thing from Day 1 is so stupid. It was about an extra 0.3 miles from the shuttle stop to our cars in lot B and 10 minutes more of walking with the backpack.

I was truthfully really annoyed that I had to wait for everyone else to catch up. I was in so much pain. When I got to the car, I dropped my pack, chugged the water left in my Nalgene (which I left in the car), put on Tevas, and just collapsed into the passenger seat. I think my body legitimately stopped being able to produce more adrenaline to keep me going.

Every symptom that I'd been dealing with for the past 3 days just ramped up by 20x. My muscles started to quiver and shake from exhaustion and probably lack of sufficient calories. And the nausea was awful. It was in my stomach, in my chest, and just compounding the headache and dizziness and motion sickness -- like someone had started a wash cycle of ick in my body. I still felt like I had to go to the bathroom every minute. The whole system was going haywire.

D and I made it to our hotel, and I'm so fucking thankful that we made the decision to book a hotel and not another campsite. I literally couldn't raise my head off the counter at check-in and the receptionist was like, "long day?". When we got into the room, I didn't know whether to sit, stand, or lie down because everything felt awful.

I went to the bathroom so many times my butt was raw. I felt like throwing up, but had nothing to throw up. Even drinking water made me nauseous and I could barely get more than a few sips down at a time.

After about an hour, I was finally able to drag myself away from the toilet long enough to take a shower. It was so therapeutic. I don't know what happens physiologically when you get to stand under warm, running water, but it felt like I got to hit the snooze on everything going on.

I crawled into bed after my shower. Glorious, soft, cushy bed. The GI stuff quieted down after the shower. The headache and nausea were still raging but I was in a BED. I got to lie down, and be horizontal. It was amazing.

D asked if I would be able to get food in my condition and I was like, oh definitely. I was so fucking hungry. We texted our friend to meet us at the Mammoth Brewing Company for dinner.

There was a huge line of people waiting for seats when we arrived. The hostess said the wait would be an hour. Well you might as well just put my down now. But then I noticed that there were people eating at the bar...I asked her about it and she said that as long as we could find a seat at the bar, we could order food and drinks there. Incredible. There were just 5 seats open and I was so grateful to be sitting down again because I was tired just walking from the car.

We put in our order: two burgers with fries (a veggie one for me), mac & cheese, a large salad, and fried brussel sprouts. I laid my head down on the bar counter and just...dissociated. Our friend came and it was just him and D chatting because I was KO'ed.

The food took almost an hour to arrive. I almost wept at the sight of it. Fresh vegetables and whole foods; crunchy, powdery, dehydrated meals no more! Somewhere between being at lower elevation long enough and halfway through the meal was when the nausea and the muscle weakness and quivering finally stopped. The headache felt more "normal", like more from fatigue and sleep deprivation than the crushing hammer of hypoxia. I actually felt almost human again.

We wrapped up our meal around 9:30-10PM and by 11PM, both D and I were passed out.

Takeaways for future backpacking trips

I think both D and I got a little too comfortable with the experience we thought we had from our other backpacking trips. We definitely did not calibrate well for this trip and nature always knows how to humble you. Valuable learnings I gained from this trip (that I will definitely remember for the future):

• Never underestimate the altitude -- leave about 48 hours for acclimatization. The Wilderness Medical Society recommends avoiding ascent to a sleeping elevation of >= 9,000 ft in a single day (BIIIG oops there).
• Definitely make sure I get a good night's rest before the hike out. I will happily pay $100 for that hotel room bed.
• Don't skimp on the TP; bring a full roll. (We started cutting our body wipes into quarters because we didn't have any TP left for the last day, haha).
• Extra snacks, food, and Liquid IV are worth the extra weight. Being able to choose to eat is better than being undernourished.
• Extra hand sanitizer (also ran out...luckily our friend had a lot still).
• If I'm feeling super shitty, I need to stop pushing through it and just take it easy. (This is a known toxic trait of mine that I am working really hard on in therapy, okay?).

In spite of all the shit going on physically, mentally this trip was what D and I needed. Nature is so healing, so wonderful, so inexplicably and transcendently gorgeous.

A friend of mine asked me if I'd do this trip again, altitude sickness and all, and I said, "absolutely". So that's all you need to know. Til next time, friends!