On the map, Onion Valley looks remote and inaccessible, an impression confirmed by the drive on a twisting mountain road from Independence, California.
After a 15-mile drive from Independence, the road ends at the Forest Service campground, at an elevation of 9,600 feet.
In town, we pass the home of writer Mary Austin, best known for her 1903 essay collection, The Land of Little Rain, a short collection of quiet prose describing the natural and human world of the southern Sierra and Owens Valley. I had packed the Dover Thrift edition (weight 3 oz) and was looking forward to becoming re-acquainted with Austin.
As a literary type, I was thrilled to suddenly come upon Mary Austin’s house after we turned off Route 395 to head up to Onion Valley.
My three friends and I were logistically prepared for a five-night backpacking trip in the southern Sierra, where, wrote Austin, “all streets of the mountains lead to citadels.” However, an unlucky accident involving a slashed toe (not mine) meant we had to consider a plan B. We had a day or so to decide.
The Onion Valley Campground, tucked into a small glacial valley and surrounded by mountains, was definitely remote. But not inaccessible. On this summer weekend, the campground was full to bursting with campers and hikers, including many coming off or starting out on the John Muir Trail. But the campground, populated by tired hikers, was quiet. That evening, as a sliver of moon rose in the sky, we shut the place down as we read Mary Austin around the picnic table.
In the morning, the toe looked gruesome, but its owner was up for a short hike to test it. We headed up a rough trail towards Robinson Lake. The map showed a 1.5 mile hike, but we missed the actual trail and ended up following a series of herd paths that took us up a steeper and longer route.
Robinson Lake, a 1.5 mile hike from Onion Valley that was more challenging than I expected. The water was FREEZING! (And I’m from Maine, so I know cold).
We spent the afternoon relaxing and exploring around the lake.
Another view of Robinson Lake.
The grove of Jeffrey pines on the shore of Robinson Lake would make a great campsite. With a permit, camping is allowed, although the lake mostly attracts day hikers.
That evening, as we enjoyed our rehydrated Good-to-Go pad Thai meal, we decided to call off the backpack. Instead, three of us would set off on the 9-mile round-trip hike to Kearsarge Pass, elevation 11,700 feet. Our injured friend would pack up the campsite (as we had to move to another site) and try to meet up with us later in the day, when she felt ready.
The trail to Kearsarge Pass travels a well-packed series of switchbacks. Right from the beginning, the hiking was easier than the day before. Maybe because it was a better trail, or maybe because we were hiking ON the trail, and not bushwhacking. Or maybe our lungs had adjusted to the altitude. Regardless, the 4.7 hike up to the pass, with about 2,000 feet of elevation gain, did not feel difficult.
On the dusty trail towards Kearsarge Pass. The horses are from the Sequoia Kings Pack Outfit pack station, which resupplies hikers on the John Muir Trail.
View of Heart Lake, one of five mountain lakes that hikers pass en route to Kearsarge Pass.
As hikers approach the pass, steep slopes of Sierra scree rise above the trail. The trail itself is hard-packed dirt, and easy walking, at least if you are coming from the roots and rocks of New England.
At the pass, we enjoyed a cocktail-party like atmosphere with as hikers stopped to rest and chat. Below us stretched a basin with Kearsarge and Charlotte Lakes, where we had originally planned to camp. The John Muir trail beckoned. 
We didn’t get to complete our five-day backpack, but I wasn’t really disappointed. I was in the company of three fabulous friends with whom I rarely get to spend time. And we had learned so much about what we could do, many years after our first days of hiking together. Like all hiking, the hike to Kearsarge pass was a process of putting one foot in front of the other, many times. The 211-mile John Muir Trail — and any trail — remains within our reach.
Okay, we weren’t carrying heavy packs, and we’ll need to do some training if we want to enjoy rather than just endure a 200-mile hike. But we can do it.
As Mary Austin wrote, “There is always another year, and another.” Now, as summer turns to fall, it’s time to start planning.
All smiles at Kearsarge Pass.
The view from Kearsarge Pass, including Kearsarge and Bullfrog Lakes. Our original plan called for us to drop down into this basin and set up a lakeside campsite.
Sources and resources
The Inyo National Forest Onion Valley Campground site provides information about campground reservations and wilderness permits. The Forest Service accepts permit applications six months in advance, and limits the number of permits. We applied for ours back in February.
The excellent John Muir Trail planning site of the Pacific Crest Trail Association is a great place to begin planning for an extended JMT hike.
Dianne, thanks as always for sharing your adventure with two friends along with fab photos! So sorry for friend’s toe mishap, but what a trooper…you made a great team 🙂 I was pulled right in with your opening quote by Austin on the landmark plaque and the image of her charming ‘brown house at the end of the village street’ as she wrote. And of course your words carried this armchair traveler along the steep trails past the skree, and for the quickest of toe dips in that Freezing water, colder than the Atlantic & York Harbor: Brrr!
I had to google your delish sounding dinner and was happy to discover a famous NY chef is the creator & founder of Good To-Go foods And that she lives very near you. I imagine you must be pals. So I had multiple vicarious adventures along with your threesome on the trails & back in Maine. Still miss it.
You look happy and well. Love the neon orange T that’s a glowing endorsement for happiness!
Keep on truckin,’ trekkin,’ & postin’