The Other Side of the Challenge: From Baxter Pass to Dollar Lake

View south to Dollar Lake

 

 

 

This is the continued accounts of my second day of my June 2025 backpacking trip to the Sierra Nevada. Link to the first part. 

 

I made it to Baxter Pass around lunch time but it wasn't a good place to sit and have lunch. The view was great but it was completely exposed, and the wind was just too strong and cold. I decided to go down and have my lunch break at Baxter Lake, which wasn't visible from the pass. I did take the time to look down at the large, Alpine bowl below me, trying to pick out where the trail was going. I had expected most of the snow to be on the west side of the pass, and to my great relief I saw that although I would have to cross a couple of snow fields, they ware all horizontal. The slope I was about to descend was, thankfully, clear of snow. 

View northwest from Baxter Pass

 

I expected to see some hardy wildflowers at the top of the ridge but the only plant that seemed to grow there was a short species of rush, and a few yellowish grasses. 

Merten's Rush, Juncus mertensianus

 

The trail descending west from Baxter Pass wasn't visible either - I had to go back and forth along the ridge a couple of times before I detected the faint path that people's feet weathered the rocks to some level of contrast. During my trail search I did find one wildflower on the ridge - the pussytoes. 

Pussytoes, Calyptridium umbellatum 

 

 Once I found where the trail downhill was it was easy enough to follow it. I still had to be careful though, because much of the slope was of loose gravel, which was very slippery. 

Baxter Pass Trail, west

 

 Despite the difficulties of the trail I was enjoying myself a great deal. I was alone, on top of the world. The wind was in my hair (what wasn't covered with the hat), the sky deep blue, and the air so pure that I could feel my entire body feeling with every breath, despite the altitude's lower pressure. 

 

I trotted down at a good pace which I broke when I started seeing wildflowers. These wildflowers were completely different from those I've seen on the eastern side of the pass, too. Most of them were draba: a high mountains genus of crucifers. 

Granite Draba, Draba lemmonii

 

There were small grasses too, light and fluffy grasses that complemented very nicely the rugged, broken scree rocks. 

Mountain Fescue, Festuca saximontana

 

I reached the bottom of the bowl and found at its top a small pond of snow-melt water. This was the headwaters of Baxter Creek. 

 

 The recently melted snow left the thin soil of the bowl damp and in some places even flooded. The snow hasn't melted that long ago but Alpine plants were quick to wake up to the short high mountains short growth season. 

Brewer's Cinquefoil, Potentilla breweri 

 

 Nearly every plant I saw there along the Baxter Creek headwaters was in full bloom. Most of these wildflowers were either new to me or first time sighting in this trip. 

Ceeping Sibbaldia, Sibbaldia procumbens  

 

 Many of these plants I'd see again on my White Mountain Peak hike, but it was at the headwaters of Baxter Creek that I first saw the minute rock-jasmine, not knowing at the time how special these pygmy plants where. 

Pygmy-flower Rock Jasmine, Androsace septentrionalis

 

Below the pass the trail leveled off and was easy to walk. I had to hop a few flooded areas but other than that I made a fast pace which was good, because now I was set on having my lunch break at Baxter Lake, and I was eager to get there soon. 

Baxter Pass Trail, west

 

Another draba species bloomed near and sometimes right in the trail. This draba species had white flowers and reminded me of the rock cress plants of the lower elevations. 

Cushion Draba, Draba breweri

 

The dwarf mousetail was also a plant I first encountered in the High Sierra - near Spring Lake in the Mineral King area of Sequoia National Park.

Dwarf Mousetail, Ivesia pygmaea

  

The pygmy fleabane I saw already east of the pass. I've seen them pretty much at any High Sierra pass or ridge I've hiked before. It was lovely to see this beauty here as well.  

Pygmy Fleabane, Erigeron pygmaeus

 

 The only animals I saw along that part of the hike were the black wolf spiders and many grasshoppers. The grasshoppers were difficult to photograph - they were so well camouflaged that I only noticed them when they were hopping away from me. I did manage to get a couple of grasshopper shots though. 

Unduland-winged grasshopper

 

 The first snow field I came upon was wider than it looked from above. The snow field wasn't smooth - all of it was in suncup formation, like egg carton shape. Traversing the snow field wasn't difficult but it was very slow. The suncups were pretty deep and I had test my footing with each step to avoid sinking through deep snow or into holes obscured underneath the snow. 

 

When I reached the other side of the snow field I found out that the surroundings were all of a sudden much darker, in a weird sort of way, like the illumination during a solar eclipse. At first I did wonder if there was an eclipse going on but then it dawned on me - for the last 20 minutes or so I was staring directly at the snow and the brightness returned into my unprotected eyes had affected my sight. I berated myself for not thinking to bring sunglasses along for the trip. 

Baxter Pass Trail, west

 

As soon as my eyes readjusted to the regular daylight I was able to pay attention to the little buttercups that bloomed between the rocks. This species of buttercups was new to me and most of them were already past their peak bloom and half-bleached, but there were some that still had their bright yellow sheen and were attracting little insects. 

Eschscholz's Buttercup, Ranunculus eschscholzii

 

By the second snow field I had to cross I have learned my lesson. Although I still had to look down a lot to see where I was placing my feet I was also conscious to lift up my gaze and look around at the snow-free slopes and so avoid the effect of the snow-glare on my sight. 

 

Crossing both snow fields has taken some time so once I was past them I picked up my pace to an almost trot. I was quite hungry by then, but I wanted to get to Baxter Lake before stopping again. 

Baxter Pass Trail, west

 

 Baxter Lake came into view after I took the hard curve to the west. It looked very inviting but it was a good distance below me. Once again I needed to edge my way down a gravel-slippery slope, angling around sharp switch-back turns. 

 

 

The way down was decorated with more beautiful wildflowers, including the lovely Sierra primrose, which I was familiar with from the Mineral King area of Sequoia National Park. 

Sierra Primrose, Primula suffrutescens 

 

When I was level with Baxter Lake I had to cross a wide area of surface runoff water in order to get to the shore along which the trail was, where I wanted to take my lunch break. 

Baxter Lake

 

In the wet area left by the melting snow east of Baxter Lake lots of little plants were growing, many of which were in bloom. Here too I saw the cute little manzanita relative - the dwarf bilberry. 

Dwarf Bilberry, Vaccinium cespitosum

 

 Turning around I regarded the slope I just came down from. The Baxter Pass was hidden from my view, tucked behind the mountain south of the lake, but I could see the beautiful, ocher-colored ridge that extended behind it, connected out of sight to Baxter Pass and the bowl of Diamond Peak. 

View east

 

At last I could take a good, long lunch break. I found a nice place to sit just off the lake shore where the soil was dry> I took off my backpack and I went down to the lake to fetch water. I saw a golden trout fish there, but the fish vanished quickly in the depths do I have no photo of it.  

 

Behind where I was sitting was a raised flat area with a few small pine trees. It was evident that people had camped there before. I had planned to camp there too on the first night of my trip but the unexpected challenge of my first day's had changed my plan. Now that I was at Baxter Lake I was very tempted to simply stop and stay there for the second night - it was so calm and beautiful! 

Baxter Lake, view west

 

It was time for rest and relaxation. I cooked myself a hot lunch and ate it slowly, savoring each bite. I then wandered around a bit, looking for interesting sights. I didn't see any robins there, but I did see an evidence that they were around in the area in the form of a broken eggshell. 

An eggshell of an American Robin

 

It was after 3 pm when I felt it was time to move on. My thoughts of possibly staying the night at Baxter Lake faded away - I didn't feel I could just hang around until nightfall without doing anything. I decided to continue on to Dollar Lake which was to the southwest, below Baxter Lake, and right on the PCT/JMT trail. (PCT - Pacific Crest Trail, JMT - John Muir Trail. They overlap in this part of the Sierra Nevada, from Mount Whitney In Sequoia National Park, to Yosemite Valley, in Yosemite National Park). 

One comment I saw when I read about the Baxter Lake Trail that connects Baxter Lake with the PCT was that the trail was overgrown and difficult to find at times. Realizing that I might have similar difficulties to those I've experienced on my way up the Baxter Pass Trail, I resolved to going only as far as I felt like, then set camp wherever I saw suitable to do so.

Baxter Lake 'Trail'

 

The first obstacle presented itself right away - along the lake shore the Baxter Lake Trail was below water and mud so I had to make my way along the crumbling slope off to where the trail was supposed to be. The flooded area however, was very beautiful to see and took the interesting form of little, clear pools created by dikes of hardy grass clamps. The water was nice and warm to touch - had I stayed there I could have taken a natural bath in one of these. As it was, I didn't disturb the pools but moved slowly on along the lake shore.  

Baxter Lake

 

West of the lake I found the Baxter Lake Trail, which was a very faint line worn by the the footsteps of the very few hikers that walked this way before me. 

 

Just before plunging into the forested area ahead of me I turned around and bade farewell to Baxter Lake. I would like to think that one day I might return to that lake and camp there, but the chance of it happening is very small.  

Baxter Lake, view east

 

The true path finding challenge begun as soon as I entered the woods. The foot traffic on this 'trail' is very low and not enough to etch a clear path through the forest. Pine shod needles and dead branches covered the entire forest floor, making it quite challenging to pick up other footprints. Moreover, dead, fallen trees often necessitated detours, and the living trees blocked the view ahead, making it very difficult to get the sense of where the trail would continue. 

 

I used my GPS navigator to direct myself in the general direction of where the trail was expected to be, but more frequently then not, the path, whenever it was visible, did not match the marking on my navigator's map. Clearly, the foot path was a dynamic thing that kept changing with the terrain's conditions. 

Sierra Penstemon, Penstemon heterodoxus

 

Spaced between the trees were small meadow clearings. They were gorgeous and full of wildflowers. These mire open areas allowed me to see a bit further out. They were also often flooded, so detours were needed there too. 

 

Some colleges offer wilderness classes where they teach wilderness skills, including path finding. I have met such a class during my Yosemite backpacking trip in 2019 and it intrigued me to a point where I considered enrolling myself in such a class. That never happened though. I have never taken any sort of formal wilderness education. All of my outdoors skills I have learned be simply being out there - either learning from experienced friends I went with, or by personal experience. When the trail is invisible then path finding is often a matter of sensing the way through. It can be hard to explain how I know to go down a certain way and not another. Sometimes it is just a broken stick that tells me someone else had walked there before, and yes, that someone else might have been mistaken. 

 

 Sometimes it came down to simply finding the path of least resistance in the direction that I knew I needed to go on. 

Nattull's Sandwort, Sabulina nattullii

 

At some point I started seeing cairns, which I assumed were left there by park employees of volunteers. The cairns have been very helpful at times, but sometimes they were unhelpful at all, and even confusing. The appearance of a cairn told me that I was generally on the right path, which was good. Often the cairns were either too far apart, or that it was impossible to see where the path continued from where the cairn was, and I'd have to go searching again. 

Forest Clearing

 

All that time I kept looking for wildflowers and wildlife. On one of the forest clearings I saw another rosy finch which excited me a lot. 

Gray-crowned Rosy Finch

 

Landmarks that helped me a great deal with the navigation were the forest ponds. Generally they were marked on my map and provided another reassurance that I was going in the right direction. 

 

Being it early summer however, and not too long after the snow melt, meant that the areas surrounding the forest ponds were very flooded. The trail marked on my map was supposed to go along some of these ponds but reality had my taking large detours around swampy areas.  

 

Swampy areas are also breeding grounds for mosquitoes. As long as there were only one or two mosquitoes around, I dealt with them in the old fashioned way of swatting. So far I was holding my ground, yielding very little blood to these nuisance creatures. 

 

My progress was slow. So slow that I kept my eye on the lookout for possible campsites for the night. Still, there was a good daylight time left and there seemed to be water everywhere, so each time I saw a suitable place to camp I decided to continue on, at least for a little bit more.  

Western Bog Laurel, Kalmia microphylla

 

The last reliable water source that was marked on the map was the area of Baxter Creek. The trail marked on my map was crossing Baxter Creek and later departing from it, taking a turn to the south while the creek continued northwest. There was a large swampy area near the crossing but I was able to reach the actual creek, and even cross it without having to take off my shoes and wade through. 

Baxter Creek Crossing

 

Finding the trail on the other side took some time and some bushwhacking through the thicket of willows. 

Lemmon's Willow, Salix lemmonii

 

After the creek crossing the walking became easier for a while. I was walking along and sometimes on large granite slabs, and the cairns were more or less consistent for a few turns. 

 

To the south was the forest pond that was marked on my map as the last reliable water source on my way to Dollar Lake. If I wanted to be sure I had water for the night, I needed to stop there. It was only slightly past 5 pm however, and I wasn't ready to stop. I considered two other factors - one was that it was very early in summer still, and that snow melt water and runoff brooks were just about everywhere, so it was more than likely that I'd have plenty of unmarked water sources along the way. The other factor was that there wasn't a whole lot of distance to cover and pretty much all of it was downhill. I trusted my ability to traverse that distance in the daylight time I had left. 

 

I was also hoping that at some point the trail would be better, but I wasn't counting much on it. I did expect however that once I turned south I would be within sight of Dollar Lake and won't have to be slowed down by path finding. 

Shrubby Cinquefoil, Dasiphora fruticosa

 

So I kept on going, and despite the challenges I was in high spirit. I stopped often to enjoy the wildflowers display and I also took a short snack break in one of those little green Alpine meadows. 

Sierra Ragwort, Senecio scorzonella

 

I particularly enjoyed the way the late afternoon sun was illuminating everything. East of Baxter Pass it would be getting dusky about this time, but I was west of that ridge now, and still high enough to be enjoying the bright sun for a while longer.  

Alpine Sheep Sorrel, Rumex paucifolius

 

My excellent mood took a sour turn when I reentered the forest and found myself in a maze of fallen trees and large boulders that conspired together to turn my hike into a huge, wild version of an escape room. 

 

I thing I spent a whole half an hour to get through a section of the forest that was maybe the length of one football field. It was quite daunting. 

 

To top it all, as I crossed one of those little forest brooks I was attacked by a vicious cloud of mosquitoes. Cursing and swatting like a mania, I broke into a run, as fast as I could with the heavy backpack on and the soft, boggy soil near that creek. The moment I got to a more stable soil I dropped my backpacked and rummaged it for the bug repellent, crating cause in all my carefully packed gear and provisions. The whole mosquito episode from the initial attack until I sprayed myself (for the one and only time during this trip!) took maybe a minute, but by then I was already covered with bites. Finally, covered with deet and panting, I was able to notice the lovely cornlily that grew near that mosquito-ridden creek. 

California Cornlily, Veratrum californicum

 

I took another minute to sort of rearrange my backpack again, and then I moved on. Thankfully I picked up the trail shortly after that, and for another while I could walk with relative ease. 

Baxter Lake Trail

 

Looking at the GPS recording of my hike from Baxter Lake to the turn south I can see all the detours, straying, and active path finding I did on this, 'overgrown and difficult to find' trail. Really, this trail is nonexistent for most of its length. Anyone considering this path should take this into account and factor in the time it takes to walk through this area. 

My hike as captured by my GPS

 

The afternoon was sliding into an evening when I turned the curve to the south and Dollar Lake came into view. I saw that the shadow of the mountains west of the valley was already touching the lake but I felt relieved - it looked close enough to get there with enough daylight to make camp.

Dollar Lake View

 

At first I needed to go uphill again, which bummed me. I was already quite tired from negotiating the difficult passage int the forest from Baxter Lake to the trail curve and having to go uphill again pulled my physical resources thinner. 

Baxter Lake Lake

 

I wasn't too tired to appreciate the majestic foxtail pines that stood as sentinels on that scree slope I was ascending. These pines are on my top list of tree favorites. 

Foxtail Pine, Pinus balfouriana

 

Thankfully the uphill part wasn't long and soon I was headed downhill again. The slope was mild and the trail clear, so I picked up my pace, pausing only briefly here and there to take photos or to drink a bit. 

Northern Indian Parsnip, Cymopterus therebintinus 

 

I was in need of some hurry now, seeing how fast the evening shadows were progressing across the valley, but there were wildflower species that I was seeing for the first time on this trip blooming right along this part of the trail. 

Mountain Wallflower, Erysimum perenne 

 

For a while things were going well and I was walking in a good pace. Then I hit a scree slope that seemed to have collapsed into the trail and buried it. I slowed down to a crawl, once again I was carefully balancing myself, one foot at a time, on unstable scree rocks, praying that I won't loose my footing and twist an ankle. 

 

Past that scree slope I had to stop for a few minutes to calm my heart a bit. My legs were shaking from the strain and I could feel my pulse thudding in my ears. I could rest for long however - the evening shadow already covered Dollar Lake. If I wanted to get there while there was light still I had to get going. 

View south to Dollar Lake

 

 I didn't stop again. It was a good thing hat I pushed on because I run into two more scree slopes where the trail was nonexistent. By that time I was already weary and all of my remaining energy was focused on traversing these trail challenges and getting down to the lake before dark. Although I generally am not too concerned about some night hiking, I did not want to do any of darkness walk on a treacherous terrain such as scree.  

Fendler's Meadow-Rue, Thalictrum fendleri

 

The sun vanished behind the western ridge while I made my way down the trail, so the last bit of descend I did in the dusk. Even in the fading light however, I was able to see the large flooded area that separated me from the crossing of Woods Creek, and Dollar Lake's camping area of the PCT. Seeing this last obstacle I snapped. There was no way I was tackling this creek crossing at this time just to camp near other people. With a decision made in a split second I left the so called trail and crossed the terrain directly towards the lower area where the creek was cascading furiously into the valley. At the first suitable area I saw I dropped my backpack and pulled out my tent and my flashlight. 

  

I used the last of the day's light to pitch my tent and fetch water from a nearby pool. I then allowed myself to finally sit and relax. I was to worn out to cook and had no appetite either so I made myself only hot tea and munched a bit on dried fruits and nuts because I didn't want to go to sleep on an empty stomach. Darkness had set in the valley and I finished my tea, cleared everything and crawled into my tent. Within a couple of minutes I was sound asleep.