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Outdoors
ENLARGE
The Desolation Wilderness sits high atop the Sierra Nevada's crown, bristling with granite faces flecked by bright blue lakes.
As its name suggests, the Desolation isn't necessarily inviting. To truly experience it, you must backpack miles into its core, which is covered with rugged climbs over shale in direct, high Sierra sunlight.
Southwest of Lake Tahoe, the 63,960-acre wilderness is full of incentives, though. Its lakes are as clear as any in the range, and wildflowers, rock formations and streams make the trip worth the effort.
I went on a backpacking trip recently with my girlfriend's family to get my first taste of the Desolation. We started on Echo Lake, accessible off Highway 50 south of Lake Tahoe. The U.S. Forest Service runs a ferry across the lake, a 10-minute ride well worth the $10 fee. If you aren't prepared to backpack, though, the far shore of the lake is where your trip ends.
We disembarked the boat and adjusted our packs and ourselves for the trip into the Desolation. We brought two dogs with us, a golden Labrador retriever and a Lab mix.
The Desolation might as well have been Disneyland to them. They had goose poop to sniff, lakes to jump in, rivers to cross.
Their parade couldn't be rained on, even after we saddled them with small doggie-packs and put protective booties on their feet.
As they sprinted from one interesting smell to the next, we began our trudge straight up a mountain toward our campsite, Lake Aloha. Up, up, up we went, gaining about 800 feet in the span of less than 2 miles.
Reward: Lakeside camp, meteor shower
To make the plodding more exciting, my girlfriend's brother and I started up an a cappella version of Led Zeppelin's “Stairway to Heaven.” The strain from the elevation gain drove our voices several octaves higher than Jimmy Page's by the time we hit the song's final verse.
We finally mounted our own stairway and looked out on Lake Aloha, a shallow reservoir that rests at about 8,100 feet. Plopped alongside the Sierra Nevada's Crystal Range, the lake is gorgeous, with small granite islands popping up out of the water.
We made camp at the lake's northern shore and watched the remnants of the Perseid meteor shower in the crystal-clear, pollution-free sky.
The next day, we wound through Rockbound Valley, which is criss-crossed by a number of small streams. As a fellow backpacker noted, the view of the steep mountains surrounding the valley reminds you just how small you are.
Despite its picturesque nature, the Desolation isn't for everyone. The trails were dry and dusty, the climbs long and painful, and each mile is hard to come by.
Yet, if hikers take it on responsibly and prepare well for the trip, they won't be disappointed.
To contact Staff Writer Kyle Magin, e-mail kmagin@theunion.com or call (530) 477-4239.
As its name suggests, the Desolation isn't necessarily inviting. To truly experience it, you must backpack miles into its core, which is covered with rugged climbs over shale in direct, high Sierra sunlight.
Southwest of Lake Tahoe, the 63,960-acre wilderness is full of incentives, though. Its lakes are as clear as any in the range, and wildflowers, rock formations and streams make the trip worth the effort.
I went on a backpacking trip recently with my girlfriend's family to get my first taste of the Desolation. We started on Echo Lake, accessible off Highway 50 south of Lake Tahoe. The U.S. Forest Service runs a ferry across the lake, a 10-minute ride well worth the $10 fee. If you aren't prepared to backpack, though, the far shore of the lake is where your trip ends.
We disembarked the boat and adjusted our packs and ourselves for the trip into the Desolation. We brought two dogs with us, a golden Labrador retriever and a Lab mix.
The Desolation might as well have been Disneyland to them. They had goose poop to sniff, lakes to jump in, rivers to cross.
Their parade couldn't be rained on, even after we saddled them with small doggie-packs and put protective booties on their feet.
As they sprinted from one interesting smell to the next, we began our trudge straight up a mountain toward our campsite, Lake Aloha. Up, up, up we went, gaining about 800 feet in the span of less than 2 miles.
Reward: Lakeside camp, meteor shower
To make the plodding more exciting, my girlfriend's brother and I started up an a cappella version of Led Zeppelin's “Stairway to Heaven.” The strain from the elevation gain drove our voices several octaves higher than Jimmy Page's by the time we hit the song's final verse.
We finally mounted our own stairway and looked out on Lake Aloha, a shallow reservoir that rests at about 8,100 feet. Plopped alongside the Sierra Nevada's Crystal Range, the lake is gorgeous, with small granite islands popping up out of the water.
We made camp at the lake's northern shore and watched the remnants of the Perseid meteor shower in the crystal-clear, pollution-free sky.
The next day, we wound through Rockbound Valley, which is criss-crossed by a number of small streams. As a fellow backpacker noted, the view of the steep mountains surrounding the valley reminds you just how small you are.
Despite its picturesque nature, the Desolation isn't for everyone. The trails were dry and dusty, the climbs long and painful, and each mile is hard to come by.
Yet, if hikers take it on responsibly and prepare well for the trip, they won't be disappointed.
To contact Staff Writer Kyle Magin, e-mail kmagin@theunion.com or call (530) 477-4239.
