There is such a cornucopia of natural delights available to
visitors to the eastern escarpment of the Sierras. Highway 395,
which extends along the base of that escarpment, is like a
traveler’s Lazy Susan, conveniently presenting a steady selection
of side road treats. My most recent trip there was a perfect
example.
There is such a cornucopia of natural delights available to visitors to the eastern escarpment of the Sierras. Highway 395, which extends along the base of that escarpment, is like a traveler’s Lazy Susan, conveniently presenting a steady selection of side road treats. My most recent trip there was a perfect example.
After spending a night at Bridgeport, my friend and I headed south. Our first opportunity to leave the Mono Basin and ascend into the mountains was at Conway Summit where Virginia Lakes Road leaves Highway 395. Seven miles later, we were at Virginia Lakes Resort (9,350‚) and the end of the road. We set off on a hike through a string of gem-like lakes strung together by Virginia Creek, sometimes resting in meadows.
Nothing special for east side wayfarers – just perfectly picturesque alpine country minutes from your car. Here is the allure of this region – a succession of right turns (or left turns if you’re heading north) that quickly drop you at the threshold of Sierra-Club-calendar scenery that is normally only available to the weary backpacker.
Back on 395, we were spinning the Lazy Susan once again. We’ve seen the selection before, and we knew what we wanted. We passed up lovely Lundy Canyon with its lakes, beaver dams and abandoned mines just north of Lee Vining and we also passed the June Lake Loop further south.
Our next right turn was at Convict Lake where a three-mile climb over a glacial moraine leads you to a large lake with a stunning backdrop. The lake is named for a bloody shootout that took place in 1871 between six escapees from the state penitentiary in Carson City and the chasing posse. Three members of the posse were killed and the convicts escaped, later to be captured (and lynched) near Bishop. Nearby Mt. Morrison was named for Robert Morrison, one of the fallen posse members.
Our next stop was the very next right turn off of Highway 395, McGee Creek. A brief three miles and we were at the end of the road. I had been to this trailhead before but no further. The view from the parking lot is a classic that has graced many calendars, usually with fall’s brilliant yellow aspens in the foreground and snow-dusted peaks beyond. I was anxious to explore this valley because I had seen it from the other side. Several years ago, a friend and I backpacked into Pioneer Basin. On a day hike to the summit of Mt. Stanford, we were able to look down on McGee Lakes and the entire basin from above.
It proved to be as handsome up close as it was years ago from above. The thigh-high sagebrush along the lower portion of the trail allowed unobstructed views of the bold peaks we were passing. After a three-and-a-half-mile walk, we reached pines, beaver dams, and a close-up view of the Sierra crest.
Do you pick up on my theme or was I too subtle? This endless succession of short side roads that reach into the Sierra’s eastern escarpment are there for you to see, and the TV-remote jockey in your family will barely break a sweat. On this day, we picked three, but we passed some jaw-droppers.
