If you’re traveling on California Highway 395 along the striking escarpment on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada south of Yosemite and looking for a high-elevation hike deep in the heart of the mountains, but you only have a day or less, various roads off the main highway take you up to trailheads between 8,000 and 10,000 feet quite easily and quickly where you’re immediately immersed in stunning alpine scenery.

For example, out of the town of Bishop, you can take Highway 168 straight to the Sabrina Lake Trailhead at about 9,100 feet, or turn off on South Lake Road to reach the Bishop Pass Trailhead at about 9,800 feet, or turn off on North Lake Road to reach the North Lake Trailhead at about 9,300 feet. Or, out of the tiny resort of Tom’s Place, you can take Rock Creek Road up to multiple trailheads between 9,000 and over 10,000 feet. Other roads to high elevation trailheads in the region can be found near Big Pine, Lone Pine, and Mammoth Lakes. Every one of these locations offers many hiking options to serene wilderness lakes and valleys surrounded by spectacular peaks, whether shorter trails or portions of longer trails.

Possibilities abound. But what if your time is limited to just a few hours? When mine was limited one late September day in 2018, I decided to drive to the highest elevation trailhead in the Rock Creek area at 10,300 feet and from there hike an out-and-back on the Little Lakes Valley Trail. I would complete the hike in under three hours including plenty of stops to fill my eyes with skyscraping granite and crystalline waters.

To the Little Lakes Valley Trail

Turning off Highway 395 at Tom’s Place, I drove up Rock Creek Road, gaining 3000-plus feet in ten miles, to the Mosquito Flat parking lot, where the road ends and the trail starts. This drive would be superb at any time, but in early fall it was ablaze with fluttering leaves of aspen trees turned bright yellows and oranges. You know a hike is off to a great start when the drive itself becomes worth the trip all on its own.

The road is paved and in excellent condition. However, for the last mile or so, beyond Rock Creek Lake, it narrows to a single lane, often without much if any shoulder. On my way out, coming down one of the narrowest stretches, I managed to gingerly squeak by an SUV in my Honda Civic with little more than an inch to spare. Had we both been driving SUVs, I would have been forced to back up more than a few feet. I’ve seen Rock Creek Road described as a “precipitous ascent” and a “steep and narrow zigzag” with “hairpin switchbacks,” which might give some people pause. But, as one who doesn’t particularly relish treacherous mountain roads, I found Rock Creek Road totally comfortable, with moderate curves and no extended ultra-sharp grades or long stretches of drop-offs. I found it more than sufficiently wide until the last portion, and even then, with my cautious driving, the narrowness was just more inconvenient than anything.

Although Mosquito Flat has plenty of parking, the lot closest to the trail fills up early, particularly in summer, although parking can’t be taken for granted in the off season either. Arriving around 9:15 a.m., I was lucky to get the last parking space, and, as I walked the short distance from my car to the trailhead, I saw several cars come in and turn around. Hopefully they had better luck at the overflow parking lots about a quarter to a third of a mile down the road. And, given the narrowness of the road, signs forbid parking along the side, but later, when leaving, I noticed several instances where those signs had been ignored. Not right, but not surprising, given the beauty of the area, that people are reluctant to abandon their plans.

A John Muir Wilderness Hike Begins

At the start of the trail, a steady stream of hikers slowly treaded up the rocky initial ascent, creating the sort of “traffic jam” I associate more with national park trails. But soon enough, everyone naturally spread out and the trail opened up. From then on, I felt no crowding. In fact, often, over the course of the hike, I encountered no one. Not far beyond the initial ascent, the first lake was visible through a thin cluster of trees, morning sunlight shimmering over its surface. Although it beckoned, I continued on and soon arrived at another lake, where I couldn’t resist taking the short side trail to see it up close. Across the gently rippling lake surrounded by caramel-colored grasses, slopes of evergreens rose toward the tree line and triangular light gray peaks reached into the blue sky where a few diaphanous clouds were coming in. No one else was around, and I felt privileged to have the place to myself. Had this been late spring or early summer, I might have been fishing in my backpack for insect repellent, but it being September, not a single mosquito whined by.

The next lake seemed to be a common resting place or end point for those wanting a shorter walk, with a small beach as a bonus. Again, I took the side trail over to its shore, joining several friendly hikers. Two men told me they’d come up this trail earlier in the year, and would never have known, by observation alone, that a lake was there. The lake had still been frozen and completely covered in snow, blending in seamlessly with its surroundings, and walking beyond this point had been impossible. Not quite as far back in the year as I might have guessed, as their trip had been at the end of May. A reminder that, for higher elevation hikes, especially in non-summer months, to check on conditions before starting out.

Dogs are allowed on the trail, which undoubtedly adds to its popularity, and at this particular lake I noticed quite a few. Most were on leashes as required, but one lab mix ran free and took a flying leap into the lake. “The frigid water doesn’t bother him – he loves it!” said the dog’s owner, but after a minute he sensibly called the dog back. I couldn’t vouch for all days, but that day, every one of the roughly twenty-five dogs I saw over the course of my hike was well behaved. Plus, I didn’t see a single piece of evidence on the trail to remind me that dogs are allowed.

Unlike the previous three lakes, the next lake was below a slope of boulders. Perhaps I’d scramble down another day, but I stopped for a good while to admire it from above, as well as 13,748-foot Mt. Morgan across and behind it. I felt the warmth of the mellow autumn sun and took some deep relaxed breaths of the pure air. Suddenly I heard a rustle nearby. A yellow-bellied marmot scurrying through some shrubs, probably foraging for as much food as possible in preparation for retiring to his or her burrow for a hibernation period of about eight months.

As I approached the crest of a small ridge, I fixed my gaze on a mountain that I’d been noticing along the way, Pipsqueak Spire. But now it was even more eye-catching, framed by Whitebark pines lining the trail. The spire’s horizontal striped pattern is the result of igneous (rock formed by cooled magma) intrusions (laid down within the earth’s crust) that occurred during the Mesozoic era, 250-265 million years ago. A geologist later described it to me this way: “Below the earth’s surface, molten rock cracked rocks that were already cooled, and the molten rock filled in the cracks and later cooled and solidified.”

Beyond the small ridge, as I crossed a stream intersecting the trail, carefully testing boulders before putting my weight on them, I thought about how, in recent years, I’ve seen more and more hikers using trekking poles. And I’d seen quite a few this day, but I didn’t miss having them myself, even though they could prove useful not only in crossing streams but also in navigating some of the more uneven, rocky parts of the trail. However, if I were on this trail much earlier in the year when the streams are full, I wouldn’t consider trekking poles optional.

After hiking a little over two miles and arriving at another lake that would serve as my turn-around point, a different microclimate greeted me with a chill. Having followed the standard recommendation to carry extra layers, I was glad to have both a thin sweatshirt and a fleece vest for this portion of my hike. I sat down on a slanted rock, applied additional sunscreen, drank some water, and ate a package of nuts. Once again, I had the gift of the place to myself as I took in the uplifting scenery all around me. Other than the lapping waves against the stony shore and a nippy but soft breeze now and then, all was quiet.

Ahead in the direction of the continuing trail I saw 12,866-foot Pyramid Peak, 13,713-foot Bear Creek Spire, 13,268-foot Pipsqueak Spire, and 13,600-foot Mt. Dade. Across the lake, behind the closer ridges, I could see Ruby Ridge and 13,188-foot Ruby Peak in the distance. After some twenty minutes in this sublime place with still not another soul in sight, it was time to go. I took one more long and grateful look in each direction before turning back.

Out of the Backcountry & Back to the Trailhead

On my return trip, more clouds began sweeping across the sky, subtly casting a more muted character over the scene. Nearing my return to the trailhead, I met a man who said he planned to drive to some nearby points of interest and then come back to hike the trail again later in the afternoon. I couldn’t recall ever hearing anyone say they planned to repeat a hike on the same day. “I want to see the mountains backlit,” he said. I understood. From the broad panoramas to detailed features, the character of the high Sierra Nevada changes with the intensity and angle of the light. Even on my short out-and-back hike, the return had seemed like a new experience. Someday I’d come back too, and, with more time, continue farther up the trail. But, for this day, my hike was perfect.

Need to Know

Information

Trails out of the Mosquito Flat Trailhead are comfortably wide, well-maintained paths with some rocky sections. There’s a large paved parking lot at Mosquito Flat and smaller overflow parking lots a quarter to a third of a mile down the road. Permits are not required for day hikes. For more information contact the Inyo National Forest at 760-873-2400.

Getting There

From Mammoth Lakes, drive south 18 miles on Highway 395, or from Bishop, drive 24 miles north on Highway 395, and exit at Tom’s Place. Take Rock Creek Road west 10 miles to the Mosquito Flat parking lot. Other trailheads in the area offer additional exploration opportunities as well.

Best Time to Go

Summer and early fall are ideal times to day hike the area, in order to avoid winter snowpack and early season storms. Mosquitoes can be prevalent in early and mid-summer.

Maps and Books

The National Geographic Trails Illustrated 809: Mammoth Lakes, Mono Divide map covers hikes in the area. Best Short Hikes in California’s South Sierra as well as 100 Hikes in California’s South Sierra and Coast Range both offer additional reading on hiking opportunities in the Southern Sierra. Wilderness Press also offers their Sierra South: Backcountry Trips guide.

Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 50 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.