We reached the foot of the mountain early, which should have tipped us off; climbing trips never go ahead of schedule. But the summit looked inviting and achievable, so the three of us eagerly hiked up towards it.
Reynolds Peak was our goal and we approached the 9,679-foot peak from Ebbetts Pass on the Pacific Crest Trail. My friends Bob and Polly and I climbed laboriously but steadily. Only after we reached the summit did we see a surprising view: crowning the landscape of the Mokelumne Wilderness was the higher summit of the real Reynolds Peak about a mile to the north. I had read the map incorrectly, and we had climbed the wrong mountain!
“Fool’s gold” was once a nemesis of miners in these parts. Today the term might describe the wrong turns and unexpected finds of many outdoors enthusiasts; if you’ve ever struck it, you’re in good company. Our wayward effort to climb Reynolds Peak was not the only time I’ve felt the plight of unlucky 49ers in these mountains.
Panoramic Point boasts an unparalleled view of high Sierra peaks in Kings Canyon National Park and beyond. Spectacular in summer, the 7,520-foot vista becomes even grander in winter, or so I imagined. I planned to ski about 2.5 miles to reach it in February and I was glad to find that a snowcat had broken a trail leading to it, making my travel faster and easier, or so I thought.
An hour and then two passed while I delved deeper into the forest. Puzzled that I hadn’t reached my peak, I realized the snowcat had detoured around it, leading me instead toward a destination unknown. Eventually I reached Park Ridge Lookout, miles away from where I had planned to go. Miners found precious little gold this far south, yet I had managed to find “fool’s gold” once again.
But Park Ridge offered its own grand perspective and I didn’t regret the detour. It gave me a longer, more rewarding day on my skis and led me to return another time that winter to reach Panoramic Point. That second trip introduced me to other winter trails beside ancient giant sequoias and to rewarding mountain summits which I otherwise wouldn’t have discovered.
As this year’s epic snows receded, I attempted another peak with my cousin Andy and our friend Scott. This time our goal was 10,641-foot summit of Night Cap Peak in the Emigrant Wilderness near Sonora Pass. I’ve spent a good amount of time in these parts, and Andy knows these mountains better than anyone. But that didn’t stop us from missing a turnoff, misinterpreting a trail sign and ultimately summiting a different peak than the one we had planned to climb.
Yet no one seemed upset at missing Night Cap Peak as we had a night cap at the Kennedy Meadows bar that evening. The summit we did reach was nearly as high and had a grand view of its own. Besides, the outing involved eight hours of hard work and we couldn’t bring ourselves to regret doing no more. Likewise, Bob, Polly and I were probably better off climbing the mountain we did rather than hiking hours longer to ascend its similar neighbor.
No one sets out to find “fool’s gold,” and not every wrong turn turns into a positive experience, but outdoors folks may discover that unplanned detours and discoveries can lead to a mother lode of golden memories.