This account is of the Canyon Creek Lakes and Thompson Peak – highest of the Trinity Alps. I flew into Redding and drove to Weaverville, CA – my Uncle and hiking companion retrieved me. Rolling into 107 degree heat may have stifled my breath, but not my attitude on this long awaited backpacking trip.
Sassy Lugainus
Sunday we began the easy hike in, steadily gaining elevation on the way up to Lower Canyon Creek Lake. Waterfall Numero Uno was like a mirage – black and white granite with a multi tier fall pouring it’s heart out into a pool green as envy. Firs, pines and maples overhanging and completing the picture. We got down and swan-dived (or is that swan-dove?) in before lunch. Couldn’t have asked for a better start. Took lunch and got back on the trail a couple more miles. We set up in a private but party size camp by Boulder Lakes trailhead (elev. 5,606)and whipped up some smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels. Munching happily, I noticed our first camp visitor, a little deer, eyeing my apple core. We also spied two Woody Woodpeckers high up on the way in. Tipping back in deeper thought, these droppings are in my mind. One – just HOW different Alaska is from the rest of the Lower 48. It’s like a different planet. There is no trail, only tundra. And wild, wild, wild. You don’t see anyone else when you set out into the wilderness of Denali, ever. And the Trinity Alps are crazy beautiful in their own respect. I had to remind myself that I’m back in the land of poison oak and snakes. One my nemesis and the other my worst fear. Mental note: stay aware. Being back on “the trail” is interesting. I’m more focused and I don’t quite have drunken swagger like when there is no direct course from Point A to Point B. And lastly, man it’s hot, and clear today. Some Pad Thai for dinner and a dice game called “Blisters.” Then it was zonk-city in anticipation for a big day tomorrow.
Upper and Lower Canyon Lakes
Up at 7:30 am for our attempted ascent of Mt. Thompson, the highest of the Trinity Alps. We roll out at 8:55 and immediately wonder why it doesn’t matter WHAT time you wake up (be it 5 am or 7 am) and you’re not on the trail until 9? In hindsight, I’m not sure I was mentally prepared for the sort of hike this would be. A little trail thru the woods and then it opened and we were exposed the entire rest of the day. Pretty much the next nine hours was bouldering. With no clear cut path. While our destination was never really our of our site, the direction and desired route left of bit TBD. Ducks (cairns) marked some of the way, though it wasn’t always EZ to see the next one. After awhile, we realized we were piecing together our own windy trail comprised of many people’s different paths, all interweaving at certain point. Huge granite benches, layer after layer and yard after yard require careful navigation to get us to the next point.
Wedding Cake
Wedding Cake (l) and Mt. Thompson (r)
Scrambling, climbing, sidestepping, sliding, traversing, stream X’ing, meadow swishing >> we plodded on. Our 5.9 mi turned into something more like 12 and felt like 30! Mt. Thompson gradually grew closer and we grew more exhausted. Each stream, we stopped to dunk our heads and feet. As Uncle notes, “well…it’s not going to come to us,” so we kept getting after it, little by little. In the prime heat of the day, the steepest approach came and it took up 20-30 min to move upward 20 meters. Time was beginning to wear thin. We needed at least another 2 hours to get the last 300 meters. Not to mention 4 hours to get down. Being that it wasn’t just a walk down, some diligence was required. We pushed each other up each segment and picked a peek-a-boo window on the ridge line to get up regardless of whether we made it to the top of Thompson Peak. Personally, I was determined to see what was on the other side of the ridge line. Blue-bird day meant a possible view of Shasta and the last rock slope to the peek-a-boo was at least a 75 degree angle. We crawled onto the bank for our prize. What I thought was going to be another world of granite turned out to be forest land, covered in green pines.
It was kind of like getting to the bottom of a good handle of tequila to find there was no worm. We stretched, hydrated and soaked up some hot rays on the rocks. The GPS said 8,400. Only 600 more feet to go. We surveyed the peak with a keen eye. It resembled, well, death. It truly looked treacherous and time consuming with our lack of gear.
Biggie size cairn
Defeated, with no more than 2 mm of common sense still intact, we shouted obscenities at the peak. If we went for it, we’d be hiking back in the dark and would not make it. We clawed our way back down, attempting to navigate the same way, which proved to be difficult. Scanning each section carefully, memory and direction failed me. The climb up seemed like it happened a month ago. “I should have been leaving a peanut trail…” I thought. I babied my knees and pep-talked myself while “Buttercup” and “Yakkity Yak” songs ran through my head. This was tougher than South Sisters and tougher than much of the tundra hiking I just did in AK. It was breathtaking, this granite encasement and the view back at Upper and Lower Canyon Lakes.
View of Upper and Lower Lakes from false summit
Making it back, just as darkness set in, this was the plan: (1) stream shower to wash the grime and 17 layers of sunscreen off (2) Dinner of beef stroganoff and lasagna with 8 oz of boxed Merlot for each of us (3) get in the bag and sleep in. Uncle and I were too exhausted for a fire and too tired to read even.
For those who may try this hike, here is our recommended Plan of Attack: Day One – hike all the way into Lower or Upper Canyon Lake. The extra 1.5 mi on the first day is cake. There, will be a few sweet spots to camp. Start the climb to Thompson from there at no later than 7 am, before the heat of the day. Pack light, you can filter water in many places throughout the day. Plan the route carefully.
Next day, EEEEooowttch. Burnt. Burnt. Burnt. Fried like a potato crisp I am. If I had one wish, it would be a never ending vat of aloe. 4 km jaunt up to Boulder Lakes, like nothing compared to yesterday’s expedition. We splished and splashed, swam and soaked up the Vitamin D – thinking that days like this, this year are numbered. This place is a treasure trove of swimming holes. Surprise! Another blue bird, perfect day.
Boulder Lake at 7500'
Between not working and spending quality time in AK and Cali – this just might be THE BEST SUMMER I can remember in a long time. Free as a bird in a tree and that feels good. Right, anyways. Shedding our clothes, we dove right into the high alpine H20 and swam to the other side. Huge granite slabs outlined the lake and made it super easy to climb up, layed submerged in it and climb higher onto boulders and jump in. Good thing I have time to perfect my swan dive. We had lunch and feel asleep for about 1/2 hr, which is when I got my ultra radical sunburn, which developed nicely over dinner. I knew that was gonna sting like 1,000 fire ants feeding on my flesh. One a different note, I finished my book “Out Stealing Horses” as recommended by one of my favorite people in this world. Around 6 ish, the sun went behind the peak just as we hit the trail down to camp.
Paintbrush goin' strong
Very large Cali tree
Uncle catching the rays with a good read
Emerald waterfall
