A Golden Lining

The Carson‑Iceberg Wilderness is home to rugged alpine terrain, mixed conifer forests, snow-lingering slopes, and panoramic views across the high country. Its ridges rise above 8,000 feet and form the headwaters of major rivers that flow east to the Great Basin (Carson) and west to the Pacific (Stanislaus and Mokelumne).

Sept. 13–14, 2025

There are numerous high points along the 3.5-mile ridge that extends south from Heiser Lake (Carson-Iceberg Wilderness) and encircles Bull Run Lake. At least four have enough isolation and personality to be considered “peaks,” but the entire link-up should be the goal for anyone seeking a gentle introduction to Sierra scrambling with a high return on effort. The deep reliefs to the west and east make the hiker feel exulted and draw the eye as easily as the heaps of granite. There are no mandatory exposures of consequence, yet many opportunities for pushing the grades on short ups and downs in order to build some fortitude. A “progression park” for the mountaineer, if you will.

This fabulous grade-pusher had me smiling from ear to ear. It starts with an open book followed by generous cracks and edges on bomber granite.

The lower sections, while mild in stature, evoked agreeable memories of the scramble between the middle and north peaks of Mount McAdie. The bluffs on the northeast side of Peak 9413 offered a sprint up ledges on pretty jawbreaker granite, a few walled-in sequences with some jamming above conspicuous drops, and a crux chockstone (class 4) with a single feature on the right: a slight shelf, inscrutable from below, that required a committing lunge followed by a fully weighted hand traverse. The needlessness of these theatrics seemed defensible given the moderate scale of the cliffs, though I’d sure be thinking differently if they had ended in injury.

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The terrain softened into sand and stunted pine after Peak 9413, but the sights remained stellar as the land opened up to the east, offering dreamy glimpses of proud landmarks from last summer’s big send at Highland Lakes. Textures shifted with enough aged dynamicism to hold my interest through to the little brown butte overlooking the southwest shore of Bull Run Lake.

The rock degrades rapidly as you approach Peak 9532 from the north; you get that compacted ash and debris typical of this wilderness, which forces you to slow down and move more cautiously. The upshot is outstanding views of the Dardanelles to the south.

The grass has grown tall since I last packed a fishing rod on a scrambling excursion, but curiosity got the better of me on this trip. The beautiful little lake, buried in forest and encircled by granite, is an undeniable draw for packers. Could any trout survive the pressure and be willing still to take a spoon? If you’re accustomed to flicking 1/6 oz Thomas Buoyants, you probably know the answer….

The light petered out as I ditched the Bull Run Lake Trail and began crossing the lonely granite amphitheater separating Bull and Heiser Lakes. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t weary or far from camp. The air felt pleasant and calm.

My phone buzzed—a message from Josh, asking about work. “Stressful,” I typed back, “but I have time on weekends for this: [ ]”

I attached a photo from Bull Run Lake, pausing to appreciate the granite walls reflected in its calm surface—how they blushed in the low light and glowed at the edges with a fleeting aura that signaled both the natural end of one episode and an unstoppable shift to the next.

If we think of such appearances as being any less intrinsic to the rock than our associated whites and grays, that betrays too steep a trust in what ordinary light reveals. If I were still teaching, I probably wouldn’t be out here. I was always buried in lecture prep on weekends beyond Labor Day. A one-nighter at the progression park is no rival to the “big sends” of yesteryear. But, like granite in aura of transitional light, it has its golden lining.