Imagine standing on a trail high in the Sierra Nevada, in a crisp breeze, as the landscape unfolds like a geological tapestry woven over millions of years. Carson Pass, with its rugged peaks, pristine lakes and ancient volcanic formations, is a treasure trove for the curious adventurer. Whether you’re a novice in the outdoors or an avid hiker, Carson Pass geology and historic hikesoffer a unique journey through time. Here each step reveals layers of life from the explosive origins of the Sierra Nevada to the slow, sculpting forces of glaciers. This is an adventure where every breathtaking view tells a story.
My journey began at Carson Pass Information Station where I met up with volunteer guide, Carl Gwyn. As we walked, he challenged me: “Know why dinosaur bones have never been discovered in California?”
I knew this, but the answer won’t come, just like when I’m watching “Jeopardy.”
“Think about it,” he said. “Hint: Woolly mammoths and saber-toothed tigers are not dinosaurs.”
I racked my brain, but the answer eluded me. Perched on a branch above, a raven mocked me.
The path meandered upwards toward Frog Lake to our first vista where craggy granite peaksclawed at the sky.
“Imagine,” Gwyn said, “no mountains and no Lake Tahoe.”
Something like mental shivers struck. Life without mountains? Without Lake Tahoe? Inconceivable. Professor Gwyn had my full attention as he explained the creation of the Sierra Nevada and particularly the peaks surrounding Carson Pass. While there’s still some debate as to the exact age of the Sierra Nevada, researchers at Stanford University determined that the mountains reached their current elevation around 40 million years ago. The collision of two tectonic plates — the westward–moving North American Plate and the ancient Farallon Plate —gave birth to our precious mountains.
As we continued through a section of forest, the scent of warming cedar filled the air and the crunch of our footfalls filled the silence. Trees disappeared and suddenly majestic Round Top Peak appeared. I stopped — always in awe at the sight of the crown jewel of the Carson Pass,adorned with brilliant pearls of snow.
“This is a plug volcano,” Gwyn said. Round Top was formed when volcanic magma hardened inside the volcano and what remains today is the solidified plug standing tall as the surrounding land eroded. Remember, next time you ski or ride Round Top that you’re shredding a plug volcano.
When we reached Frog Lake, the wind sent shivers across the shallow water and up my spine. Gwyn stopped, clasping his hands behind his back. I felt another fun fact heading my way.
“Frog Lake isn’t actually a lake,” he said.
My mind was still pondering the absence of dinosaur bones in California.
“Frog Lake is a tarn.” Gwyn said, “a small mountain pool formed in a cirque: a bowl-shaped depression carved by a glacier at high elevations.”
Suddenly something clicked. “There are no dinosaur bones in California because California didn’t exist. Dinosaurs were extinct when California was formed,” I said.
“Yes!” Gwyn said.
Climbing Devil’s Ladder
The next morning, I joined the group gathered at Carson Pass Information Station for the history of Devil’s Ladder hike, once again led by Gwyn. Devil’s Ladder, what a great title for my nextnovel, I thought. This steep, treacherous section of Carson Pass was named by early pioneersmigrating to California during the Gold Rush. In 1848, route options were limited when former members of a Mormon Battalion established the Carson Pass wagon route while returning to Salt Lake City after the Mexican-American War. The route became one of the most popular with more than 40,000 wagons crossing in a single year.
Nearly one in 10 immigrants did not survive the journey and faced dangers from river crossings, bandits, cholera and harsh weather. Imagine enduring those hardships, only to confront the towering granite wall known as Devil’s Ladder.
A historical marker on the Carson Trail describes what travelers had to endure: “After dinner we crossed the first mountain. The ascent is half a mile and much like going up the side of a house in steepness. With huge stones in the road, aside the road and all around the road.” – Henry Sheldon Anable, Sept. 10, 1852
The ascent above Red Lake was the most brutal stretch of the journey. Devil’s Ladder was so steep that wagons had to be offloaded and the contents carried uphill on men’s backs. The empty wagons were then winched up by teams of oxen, with men guiding each wheel. The marks left by their efforts, rope scars on trees and wagon ruts in granite, can still be seen today. To commemorate their achievement, some men left their name in axle grease on boulders at the topof Devil’s Ladder, which can also be seen today.
As our history lesson concluded, I was still intrigued and descended Devil’s Ladder alone. The first quarter mile was steep and one wrong move could have meant eternity on Devil’s Ladder. I ran my fingers along the wagon wheel ruts, as cold and rugged as the people who left them. What drove them to head west? Into the unknown. Was it just the promise of gold or something deeper, like a sense of adventure?
Stoic, dead pines marked the way with rusted signs that once read: “California Trail.” My dog, Roscoe, looked back at me for reassurance: “If I can do it, you can, too.”
We wound down, down, down, past massive granite chunks, the high-noon sun illuminating the fluorescent green of Red Lake below. The trail was not maintained and more than once I lost my way. Roscoe, ever the faithful guide, tried to lead, but I doubted him. Checking my GPS, I realized he was right — again.
Beyond a small tributary, I was swallowed by willows that carried subtle odors of tea leaves. Up and down and back and forth through the brush, searching for a sign of foot traffic, we went. If there was a trail it had been eaten up by vegetation and I was being eaten up by mosquitos. Theywere relentless. It all added to a more authentic experience, right? I brushed myself off and continued another half mile, through a thicket that ended in a hillside of downed timber. Finally, I retreated.
Backtracking, Roscoe seemed relieved and bounced ahead to the shade of a lone Jeffrey pine. I joined him, gazing up at the trail ahead where treetops touched the sky. Devil’s Ladder is clearly the path of least resistance.
To the south, an abrupt talus slope offered no anchor for wagon winches. To the north, jagged granite slabs the size of semi-trailer trucks seemed purposefully created to block passage. The options were clear: westward or turn back.
The climb out isn’t as grueling as I’d expected, not with the thought of those who came before me — those who carried heavy cargo on their backs or pushed and pulled wagons up Devil’s Ladder. No history or geology book could have taught me what two days in the Carson Pass did, thanks to the passionate volunteers at Carson Pass Information Station. Guided hikes are offered from Memorial Day through September each year through the Eldorado National Forest Interpretive Association.| enfia.org
Lisa Michelle will be a speaker at the Tahoe Literary Festival on Oct. 12 as part of the panel on “Writing in the High Sierra with Tahoe Writers Works.” Tickets available at tahoelitfest.eventbrite.com.
