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Introduction
Enchanted Gorge is one of the most remote canyons in the Sierra Nevada. Located south of the Goddard Divide, the gorge is drained by Disappearing Creek. The upper reaches of the creek are fed by a string of unnamed lakes located in the Ionian Basin. Several small streams join it as it swells from a trickle at its head to a torrent where it joins Goddard Creek. The area was first explored by Theodore Solomons whose pathfinding in the 1890's eventually led to the establishment of the John Muir Trail. The index map shows the approximate location of the route.

The Approach
The five day hike began on Tuesday, August 6,1996, from the trailhead parking lot east of Courtwright Reservoir. The trail passes through Post Corral Meadow and climbs to the Red Mountain Basin. I arrived at Disappointment Lake at 5:00 in the afternoon. After finishing dinner, I felt like I had a few miles left in me so I headed up to Hell for Sure Lake. I reached the lake at 7:15 and still felt strong, so I headed for Hell for Sure Pass which I reached at 7:45. I pressed on to that night's camp which was located on a broad bench below the pass.

The next day took me through the beautiful, flower-filled meadows below Hell for Sure Pass and up Goddard Canyon. At 10:00 that morning I had a tea break just below Martha Lake. The area is dominated by Mt. Goddard to the east and the Le Conte Divide on the west. At 12:30, I stopped for lunch by a small, ice covered lake between Martha Lake and the Ionian Basin.

Shortly after lunch I met a party of three men who had just climbed Mt. Goddard and I took photos of them with their cameras. Large snow fields covered much of the Ionian Basin. I had to climb up and around some of the snow fields because the way was blocked by cornices. The climb was not such a bad thing because I got some great views of the Ionian Basin, its surrounding peaks such as Scylla and The Three Sirens, and the Enchanted Gorge from the high perches. By 6:45, I found a camp spot at the lake that drains into Disappearing Creek.

The Gorge
The trip down Enchanted Gorge the next day was one of my best hiking days ever. During the early morning hours, the contrast of the dark lower reaches of the canyon with the sunlit walls and peaks above was intense. I got my first taste of the challenges to come when I had to climb high above Chasm Lake in order to get around it. As I moved past the guardians of the Enchanted Gorge, Scylla and Charybdis, I had to climb down steep snow fields which choked the silent gorge. Snow fields alternated with vast stretches of barren boulders. The creek flowed noiselessly under the sharp, freshly fractured metamorphic rocks that covered the floor of the canyon.

By mid-morning, I arrived at an oasis fed by a stream plunging into the gorge from its west wall. The greenery supported by the creek contrasted sharply with the gorge's barren upper reaches. During my break, I drank deeply from the icy stream, then soaked my feet in its crytalline water. Fragrant wildflowers and herbs surrounded my grass-cushioned seat. A lovely lake, the first of many in this middle section of the gorge, was just downstream of my resting place.

The "lake section" was the most inviting stretch of the gorge. I could have spent a few days in its peaceful, splendid solitude. The creek reappeared as bedrock became exposed and then was swallowed by talus fields that invaded from the bleak, fractured walls above. Bedrock and talus dams gave rise to lifeless, crystalline, azure, lakes. Fields of ferns and wildflowers fringe the barren lakes and push their way upstream next to the cascades that feed the lake.

The lakes gave way to a steep walled section alternately choked with snow and filled with the creek which had now become a raging torrent. In the narrowest parts of the gorge, the creek had grown so much that it could no longer be forded without getting soaked. I reached a section where cliffs prevented me from going further. I made a fruitless search for a route that would allow me to stay dry. The water appeared to be at least up to my chest and the creek was about two or three body lengths wide at what looked like the best crossing. I emptied my pockets into my pack and practiced throwing it until I was satisfied that I would be able to toss it across the roaring rapids. The pack made it to the other side with a few feet to spare. Finally, I threw myself into the melted ice and swam to the other side. The powerful current almost carried me past my chosen anchorage on the far side of the stream, but I was able to grab on and pull myself onto the bank. I wrang out my soaked clothes and was happy to note that I smelled better than before the crossing.

The chasm narrowed and deepened, becoming choked with snow which looked like it never saw direct sunlight. The creek ate away at the snow from beneath, forming an arched tunnel. I did my best to stay off the snow arches, fearing that if I crossed them I would break through to the icy torrent beneath. Finally, there was no alternative. The way was blocked by cliffs and I had to cross a snow arch. Pebbles which had tumbled onto the snow from the cliffs above had melted into the snow surface of the arch, in some places as deeply as a half a foot or more. This gave me the courage to cross. It turned out to be the last physical barrier of the trip.

As I moved closer to the junction, vegetation became thicker then tangled and difficult to traverse. I plunged through thickets of nettles that caused the skin of my arms and legs to burn for the next 24 hours. I bathed the icy waters of the creek in an attempt to relieve the burn of the nettles but it was no use. I applied cortisone, benedryl lotion, sun screen-nothing relieved the burning. That night I slept fitfully on a large gravel bar, awakened every hour or so by the burning of the nettles.

The Return
The next day I made it to Goddard Creek Valley around 9:30 and began my ascent toward its west fork. The route passed through evergreens, then a small hardwood forest, and finally through sage that covered the hot slopes above the canyon. In the steep gorge below were several large and spectacular waterfalls. By 5:30, I reached the lake at the outlet of the west fork of Goddard Creek. I camped about halfway between it and Finger Pass.

The final day of the hike consisted of a marathon slog through Blackcap Basin, down the North Fork of the Kings River, and over to Post Corral Meadow where the loop was complete. The uneventful return to the trailhead was carried out, in part, by flashlight. I made it to the parking lot at around ten that evening.