El Dorado National Forest: Echo Lakes to Lake of the Woods

Desolation Valley

From what I understand (and that's no guarantee of accuracy), the most popular entry into the Desolation Wilderness for backpackers is from the southern end of Lower Echo Lake. There are two advantages to this entry point: the car does most of the climbing, as it is less than 700 feet of elevation gain up to popular Lake Aloha, and one can take a boat taxi across the Echo Lakes and cut 5 miles off of the hike, round trip.

Despite the popularity of this area, it is one of the few approaches to the Desolation Wilderness I had not taken before this hikee. I've been meaning to do it for a long time, but after not going earlier in the season, I was going to put it off until next year, as Lake Aloha is partially drained late in summer to supply water to the downstream population. Unlike the many other natural lakes in the area with small dams built to increase holding capacity and control the outflow of water, Lake Aloha did not exist before a dam was built--this was the Medley Lakes area of Desolation Valley. A dam was built in 1875 and raised in 1914, creating Lake Aloha for part of the year. But late in the season it is drained, and isolated pockets of water--formerly the Medley Lakes--remain.

I changed my mind about putting off this trip another year after the hike I took with my friend Erik the previous week to Ralston Peak. From there we could see that many of the other lakes in the area were full and quite beautiful. So I suggested this for the next weekend, and Erik agreed.

The Echo Lakes lie north of U.S. Route 50, just short of the high point of the pass on the way to South Lake Tahoe. Right after the Tahoe at Sierra ski resort, we turned left onto Johnson Pass Road, which heads right down to join U.S. 50 again on its descent to South Lake Tahoe, as we found out because I went right past Echo Lake Road, and had to turn around. I suspect this road might have been one of the routes immigrants took during the Gold Rush.

Back on Echo Lakes Road, we drove to the parking lot just above Echo Chalet and the dam for Lower Echo Lake. The hike took us down past the pit toilets maintained by the U.S. Forest Service next to Echo Chalet, and they were especially fragrant that morning. Before heading up on the dam, there is the sign with Desolation Wilderness permits. Then we crossed the dam, and the bridge across its outflow, and started up the trail. I'm not sure if the boat taxi operates after Labor Day, but even if it does, there was no question that we would hike the 5 extra miles to save the money.

After crossing the dam, the trail climbs up some short switchbacks, and stays above the Echo Lakes the rest of the way, with some minor ups and downs. To the right rise large, rounded swells of granite, stained orange and black from minerals that leach out during the spring snow melt. To the left between the lakes and trail lie private cabins, many with small docks and roofs on posts to cover boats. Quite a few looked as though a lot of money had been put into them recently. Where there was enough soil to provide a foothold, conifers sprouted up.


Along Lower Echo Lake

The trail was clear and wide, and had interesting artifacts. There was a point at which it looked like a large, rounded granite outcropping that would have been impossible to cross had been blasted to clear out a trail, and then there was concrete filling in part of the path. A couple of places had short metal rods sticking out of the rock. Erik speculated that there may have been railing at these points at one time.

Once past Lower Echo Lake, the lake views ended, as the trail along Upper Echo Lake is not as close to the water. We hiked through forest on dirt, with the cabins now much closer to the trail. The end of Upper Echo Lake is marked by a sign for the boat taxi.

After that, we climbed out of the forest onto granite scree. Below us to the left we had nice views of Tamarack Lake appearing temptingly close, with Ralston Peak, the destination of our hike the week before, rising up behind it. Turning around we had our best views of both Echo Lakes. We continued on past the spurs to Triangle and Tamarack Lakes, up into forest again, where we found our spur to Lake of the Woods.

We crossed Haypress Meadow and then started climbing steeply to the top of a ridge, and then it was steeply down (quite a bit more than we has climbed on the spur) to Lake of the Woods, with dramatic views of it through the trees backed by a granite dome and the peaks of the Crystal Range, most prominently Pyramid Peak.


Lake of the Woods from Above on the Trail

Down at the lake we found some signed campsites, and a small concrete foundation. I'm not sure why that was there, but a book on the Desolation Wilderness from the late '60s mentions that the forest service put in pit toilets and picnic tables in parts of the Desolation Valley Primitive Area (its original designation) when few people were visiting, only to take them out when the number of visitors increased dramatically.


Lake of the Woods

Behind the campsites a piece of glacier-worn granite juts out into the lake, and we went out on that to eat lunch on a sloping shelf into the water. It's exactly the kind of spot where I like to go swimming, and then lie back and dry out on the warm granite afterwards. The only problem was that it was in 60s and windy, and the water was too cold. The season for swimming in the mountains had already passed for 2007.


Granite Rest Stop

I had planned on Lake of the Woods being the final destination of the hike, but Erik had never been to Lake Aloha before. Since it was so close, I suggested that we proceed, even though I knew the water level would be low.

We followed the trail around the north edge of the lake, then started up just next to a high granite dome. Along the trail it was surprisingly lush for a hike into the heart of the Desolation Valley, but the satellite images show that this was just a narrow band of trees between Lake of the Woods and Lake Aloha, with plenty of open granite beyond them on either side.

We reached the junction with the main trail from Echo Lakes. I had expected to be able to see Lake Aloha from there, as the map shows it lying quite close to the lake, but we were still in the trees. A little bit farther along there was a junction with a post indicating only that behind us were the Echo Lakes. But another hiker there told us that the trail to the left went along the south side of Lake Aloha and quickly ended, while the trail to the right went along the north shore of the lake.

We headed towards the north side of the lake, and quickly came across the dam, with a depression of dried mud in front of. We explored several of these depressions where water had formerly been before finally coming upon a large body of water that had not been drained and had not yet evaporated.

We had started the hike under clear skies, but as the day went along it kept getting cloudier. At this point I noticed that the clouds coming over the granite peaks of the Crystal Range that rise up directly from the west shore of Lake Aloha were ominously dark, so I suggested to Erik that it was time to start back. I had told him earlier that the junction with the trail we would return on had to be at the north end of the band of trees along the northeastern edge of the lake. I returned to the the trail and started in that direction, while Erik was taking pictures behind me.

After a while I stopped and waited for Erik. Then I shouted to Erik. Then I started walking back on the trail while shouting to Erik. Then I started running back on the trail shouting to Erik. I stopped and wondered if maybe he had gotten ahead of me off trail, but that didn't seem likely, as I should have been able to see him between the trail and the lake. I considered just continuing on, counting on him to follow the trail signs back to the car when he realized we had gone different ways. But instead I kept heading back until I found him and a man with two llamas. He had headed back on the trail the way we had come, until he encountered the alpaca-loving man who told him he had not seen me coming that way before him. I told him we should hurry back in case it rained, since we didn't bring jackets, and promptly headed off. Later he told me he had two trash bags we could use as ponchos.

We marched back through forest and cross some areas that must get swampy when the snow is melting, as there was a sort of boardwalk along one stretch, and then a raised area of dirt held between logs on another stretch. We passed by and above small Lake Margery before reaching the spur we had taken earlier to Lake of the Woods. From that point we retraced our steps back to the spur for Tamarack Lake.

We were heading southeast, while the ominous clouds were slightly to the north, and it appeared we would avoid any rain, so when we reached that junction, we headed off to Tamarack Lake as I had originally planned. I told Erik that taking this spur, which actually heads off to three lakes very close to one another, would put us back at the car by 4:30. It was 2:45 then so I was estimating the remainder of the hike would take us 1 hour and 45 minutes. I ended up being off by by a full hour.

Tamarack Lake certainly looked close, and it was. We headed across an open area filled with bits of broken up and breaking up granite everywhere, following cairns to find the trail. Once to Tamarack Lake, I headed south, with Erik following my lead, towards where I thought the other two lakes were. But we came to a steep drop off, and I couldn't see any lake at the bottom of it, so we headed back towards the southern end of Tamarack Lake. At some point we hit something that looked like a trail, and two people hiking back the other direction reassured me.

I believe this is just an unofficial use trail. It shows up on my map, but so do other unofficial, unmaintained use trails. Once on the other side of the seasonal outlet creek for Tamarack Lake, bone dry when we were there, it was easy enough to follow.


Ralston Lake & Ralston Peak

We climbed up and then had the dramatic view of Ralston Lake backed by Ralston Peak, and we could see where we had been the week before looking down on the spot we were at then. Unfortunately, we were looking into the sun, which meant that the camera could not capture the beauty that our more sophisticated eyes were taking in.

There were two paths down to Ralston Lake, one to the east to the north shore, and the other to the south to the dam at its outlet creek. We took the latter, which was more steep. The dam, dedicated to Ross E. Pierce by the Mt. Ralston Fish Planting Club in 1960, had a center section that was broken off.

We crossed the dam and climbed up the granite on the southeast side of the shore a ways for the views. The sun was mostly covered with clouds then, but occasionally the wind would blow them away, and the lake would be hit with a greater intensity of light, revealing a beautiful emerald color in shallow portions of the water.

From there we set off to find Cagwin Lake. My map showed the trail going along the north side of the then-dry outlet creek for Ralston Lake, but I knew enough by then to trust the physical evidence of the land before me over the map, and the trail to Cagwin Lake clearly lied on the south side of the outlet creek. We followed it, and found a sure sign that we had gone the right direction--an El Dorado National Forest sign naming Cagwin Lake and indicating it was at 7680 feet. We hadn't seen signs for any of the other lakes.

We went back the way we had come, and got off trail after crossing the dry outlet creek from Tamarack Lake. There were cairns we sometimes spotted, and eventually following those we got back to our spur trail, just before it joined the main trail back to Echo Lakes. The views we had of the Echo Lakes were marred by the shadows cast by clouds. I hadn't taken a photo earlier on the way out, thinking the view would be better in the late afternoon sun.

Back on the main trail, I revised my estimate of when we would make it back to the car. I checked it by the time it took us to make it back to the sign for the boat taxi, and we were not doing well. Unless the distance on my map was off, which is always a possibility, we were going really slowly. So I cranked it up from there, setting the pace for Erik, as always. Some people pay personal trainers as much as $75 an hour for such a workouts.


Steller's Jay on the Dam

For some reason, 5:30 became the magic time for me. I made it back to the car just before it, and felt a sense of accomplishment for achieving this arbitrary goal. Erik came along a few minutes later after calling his wife at Echo Chalet, and we headed home.

Hike Summary

Date: 16 September 2007
Trailhead: Echo Lakes
Approximate distance: 13.7 miles

Lake Tahoe Basin: Glen Alpine Springs to Lake Aloha

Lake Aloha

This hike presented me with an interesting view of the different ways people use and have historically used the beautiful lakes of the Northern Sierra for recreation. To get to the trailhead, I drove up US 50 to South Lake Tahoe, then headed up CA 89 pass a 7-Eleven, motels, burgers joints and other businesses, past USFS campgrounds and a private resort and turned left on Fallen Leaf Road.

Fallen Leaf Road is paved, but narrow and rough in spots. Once past Fallen Leaf Campground, it winds through a residential area in the forest along the south shore of Fallen Leaf Lake. I could catch glimpses of the beautiful lake through the trees, but mostly I saw driveways, SUVs, trashcans, and "Private Property" signs. The homes ranged from simple cabins and A-frames, to newer, far more expensive luxury dwellings, with large rock walls and newly paved driveways.

At the western edge of the lake is a marina, with plenty more reminders that it is private property. The only people without stacks of cash that are welcome here are those who make this lifestyle possible--those working on the roads, collecting the garbage, or risking their lives to save the houses nestled in the dense forest from fire. Those same firefighters from the Angora Fire that I saw thank-you signs to along highway through South Lake Tahoe had better not think about trespassing on the land when there is no fire to enjoy a day off on Fallen Leaf Lake.

Soon after the marina the road ends in the parking lot for the trailhead. This is a popular entry point for backpackers. By going on a Sunday, I hoped to meet most of them coming the opposite direction as they finished their weekend adventure, rather than up by the lakes. But not enough had left to clear space in the parking lot. There was one little spot I was able to squeeze my Metro into out of the way, but I couldn't have parked there with an average car.

The beginning of this trail is a closed, but not unused, road. It is nicely groomed gravel from the gate at the trailhead up to another gate, a better road than a couple I have driven on to get to trailheads. At the second gate is a warning that the next mile passes through private property. The road turned rough and started climbing. It would be suitable only for high-clearance 4WD vehicles, although there were spots where a bit of old pavement remained.

On this road I passed by cabins and driveways, and saw a couple of vehicles parked. The "Private Property" signs were out in abundance. There was a nice waterfall off to the west of the road, but the best point to view it would have been from a private cabin that was falling apart, and had a broken canoe in back with wood piled on it.

Farther up the road I came to signs for Glena Alpine Springs Resort. One of my hiking books mentioned a ruined resort, and I was interested in the possibility of exploring the ruins. But it is a site that is being actively preserved, and used for special occasions. The website mentions that tours are available, which I would like to go on when I have more time. I passed a pavilion with interpretative displays and a volunteer on hand, but given the length of this hike and how long it had taken me to get to the trailhead, I didn't stop.

Immediately after this they are trying to erase the signs of the old road, strewing branches across it to keep people from walking there and to encourage new growth, so the path becomes narrow. At the end of this old road I found a confusing sign. It was a junction style sign, a four-sided post with Susie Lake listed on one side (my first destination of the day), and Grass Lake listed on another side (not where I was going). But I only saw one trail ahead, and it seemed to lie in between the two arrows pointing the way.

I started up the obvious trail, then came back down to look for another trail again, but I still didn't see anything. I went back up, heading the wrong direction on my compass from the direction I though I should be going, but the trail then swung around to head the way I expected to go. My map indicates that the first junction occurs just before the border of the Desolation Wilderness, but that was not the case. I passed the sign for the Desolation Wilderness just before reaching the junction, signed Grass Lake for the left fork, and Mt. Tallac for the right fork On the opposite side of the sign it indicated Susie Lake in the same direction as Mt. Tallac.

It was a steady climb up from there, but well graded, and it was cool and windy. I was able to press ahead at a much faster pace than on my recent, much steeper hikes. I did pass my share of backpackers coming the other way, as expected. I was surprised by the number of men who said "howdy" in an unusually deep voice. Nobody ever said "howdy" to me in all the years I lived in Montana.





Towards the top of this climb, the trail parallels a creek. I stopped to take some photos of wildflowers next to it, then soon crossed the creek. Only it was completely dry where I crossed, even though I could see and hear water flowing farther up and farther down the creek. Apparently the creek was flowing down below the rocks. From the evidence of the dry creek bed, however, I imagine this is a difficult crossing early in the season.


Pond

Right after this crossing was the next junction, signed Dicks Pass to the right, and Lk Aloha, my way, to the left. I continued in the forest and descended past some ponds and swampy meadow before reaching the next junction. I knew my branch was to the left, but I circled the sign to find the confirmation that Lk. Aloha was that way.

Soon after this, I caught a glimpse of the drama of the Desolation Wilderness in the distance, but soon descended where I couldn't see it. Then I climbed up and came out at Susie Lake.

I had hoped to go swimming at one of the lakes I was visiting that day, but the wind was whipping and it was cool at Susie Lake, and I was only headed up from there. I saw one camp set up right where the trail reaches the lake, in a horrible spot--right next to the trail with all the people passing, and right in the wind, and on damp ground.


Susie Lake

The trail winds around the southern shore of the lake, dropping away from it at one point to cross the outlet creek. As I started leaving the lake, I started climbing again.

It wasn't a bad climb at all, or very long, before reaching Heather Lake. Another beauty of a lake, but the trail here was not so great. It goes along the north shore of the lake, along the pile of granite rocks crumbling off the mountain. It climbs to a point where there is a steep drop off to the water, the footing is never too secure, and it looks like a rock slide is always an imminent possibility To top it off, the wind was blowing fiercely in my face. At the northwest end of the lake I was much closer to the shore, and was protected from the wind.

Then began the next climb, although not too bad. On this part of the trail, I encountered some surprises for a wilderness area--a wooden bridge across a creek, and a boardwalk across a meadow above a pond that must be flowing with water much of the hiking season. I climbed up near the face of a distinctive rock outcropping that I had seen from a long distance before, and didn't think I would be coming that close to.

At the top of that climb was the junction at the northeast corner of Lake Aloha. I was well prepared for this dramatic sight, having seen it on the map many times, and seen photos of it on Flickr. But there is nothing like experiencing such drama in person.

When my friend Erik and I hiked passed Granite Lake on our hike to Middle Velma Lake, he observed that all the lakes we saw in the Desolation Wilderness could be named Granite Lake. There are also a few Island Lakes, and many more that could be named so. But none could lay better claim to those two names than Lake Aloha.

It is vast and deep blue, but shallow. Innumerable granite islands dot it, and a vast slope of granite rises up to the west, while lower granite formations lie around the other sides of it. My hiking books had warned that this lake is popular among backpackers, and even croweded on weekends. But I didn't see anybody initially, and felt completely alone in the strong winds of this harsh environment.

I went a ways south on the east shore of the lake and then went off trail to climb some rocks above the lake for a better view. On my way back, I stopped off in a protected area that had obviously been used as a campsite to eat a sandwich. After that, I headed back to the junction and this time went west along the north shore of the lake.

Here I saw other people, off on the lake shore south of the trail. But there was plenty of room for all of us, and there were no "No Trespassing" or "Private Property" signs along the trail.

I hiked as far as the trail kept close to the shore, before it turned away from the lake and up into an area I will probably never see unless I start backpacking myself. At that point I headed off trail to find some unobstructed views on the rocks above the lake towards the east. This is not the most dramatic view of the lake, but it was one that had the sun behind me for better lighting.


Heather Lake

I headed back towards the junction, but veered off it to get closer to the lake's edge. Somewhere along here I found a plastic bag, which I grabbed and stuffed in my pocket to take out of the wilderness. If you allow everyone into the wilderness, of course, you will have those that fail to respect it.

Heading back towards Heather Lake, I decided to take a detour off trail to check out the view from a high point, and found that Heather Lake was more extensive than I had realized. I similarly wandered off trail to explore a few other photo opportunities, but as I got farther down, I started speeding up. I promised myself dinner at Burger Lounge in South Lake Tahoe if I made it back to the car by 6 p.m. I made it back 20 minutes earlier than that.

Hike Summary:

Date: 5 August 2007
Trailhead:Glen Alpine
Approximate distance: 14 miles