Amidst a heat wave, we were bound for the Trinity Alps. The drive north along I-5 passed through California’s Central Valley, where sweltering 105-degree heat radiated through the windshield as we cruised down the highway; on both sides, we were surrounded by rolling hills of dried golden grass. Once we reached our exit and continued along winding roads, the grasslands gave way to thick pine forests as we approached the mountains.
The Trinity Alps, located about 4.5 hours north of San Francisco, comprise California’s second-largest wilderness area, but they weren’t on our radar as a backpacking destination until a friend suggested we check it out. Convinced by the allure of peaceful meadows and cold alpine lakes, we found a long weekend to make the trek out.
I. Idyllic Meadows
Upon reaching our destination, we spent the first night at a first-come-first-served campsite at the trailhead, which let us start the next day early and refreshed. More importantly, we were able to get an early start before the temperatures became unbearable.
The trail meandered through a forested valley, climbing about 2000 feet to a subalpine meadow. A shaded campsite offered relief from the rising temperatures, and we enjoyed a filling lunch of savory salmon onigiri and wandered the meadow. On one end, a slow, waist-deep, crystal-clear river fed by fresh snowmelt bordered the meadow. On the other, a path hugged the surrounding forest. Snow-capped peaks towered in the distance.
Through the scorching afternoon, dips in the chilly river punctuated long stretches of relaxation in the tent. As temperatures cooled, we rehydrated our freeze-dried dinners and watched the sun set over the mountains from the edge of the meadow.
II. Overgrown Trails
We continued our ascent early, before the sun rose over the mountains. The first few miles were clear and quick. That changed when we encountered the remnants of a prior winter’s avalanche, not yet cleared. Hopping over debris and clambering over fallen trees dramatically slowed our progress.
As we started above the tree line, the trail became open and exposed with low brush and shrubbery, branches grown into a thick veil obscuring the path ahead. Over the next few hours, we painfully navigated the tangle, arms held awkwardly out to shield our faces from the forceful rebound of branches as we pushed through.
Eventually the shrubs thinned and gave way to exposed rock. Small snow fields of densely packed snow appeared along the trail, pocked by the repeated footprints of previous hikers. Since these snow fields mostly remained over flatter terrain, we crossed carefully with the help of trekking poles for stability.
The climb over rock steepened into switchbacks of stone stairs. Temperatures rose steadily and fatigue set in, but words of encouragement from hikers beginning their descent kept us moving.
III. Alpine Lakes
When we completed our climb, we were rewarded by views of a crystal-clear lake nestled in a cirque, with dozens of waterfalls cascading down the mountain amphitheater. A shaded campsite overlooking the blue-green water became our next campsite, where we prepared backcountry quesadillas filled with lightly smoked salmon.
After cooling off in the numbingly cold lake water, we lounged at camp. Later in the afternoon, a day hike took us around the lake’s perimeter. The trail was mostly unmarked through small snow fields, ending in a rock scramble.
The reward for our efforts was a sweeping view of a deep blue lake, half-frozen and snow-covered. Behind us, the lake we’d started from looked small when viewed from above. Looking forward to some post-hike hydrotherapy, I dipped my feet in the icy water. It was so, so cold. A sharp pain forced me to pull them out after only a few seconds.
Back at our campsite, we went for another swim, now appreciating the comparatively warmer water, before heating up dinner and enjoying the serenity. The next day, we would begin our descent back to the meadow and toward the trailhead, leaving behind the alpine oasis.
My backpacking camera of choice is usually a Nikon F3. It’s heavy, though, and for a 4-day trip I wanted to save weight, so I brought a disposable camera instead. The Kodak Daylight disposable I used didn’t have a flash, and with a plastic lens, the photos aren’t the sharpest. But they exude a dreamy quality, fitting for a loose recollection of a memorable backpacking trip.
There were a few learnings from this trip, mostly around food: we didn’t pack enough calories and were slightly hungry on our last night. Next time, we’d also bring more seasoning: small soy sauce or hot sauce packets, or more crystallized lime. Perhaps the higher altitudes really did dull our taste buds. Overall, this was a memorable medium-effort, high-reward experience.