Granite Park Backpacking Guide: Pine Creek Pass Trail
The Trail
Distance:
14–22 miles round trip (depending on final camp location + exploration)
Elevation Gain
~3,800–4,200 ft elevation gain
Best Time to Visit:
Late July–Late September (earlier season can mean heavy snow)
Dog Friendly?
Yes, on leash
Permit Required:
Yes, Inyo National Forest, Pine Creek Pass Trail
Difficulty:
Moderate to Challenging
Last summer, I joined my friends Emily and Stephanie for a backcountry trip into the Sierra, up the Pine Creek Pass Trail to Granite Park. What started with LA traffic and a midnight arrival at the trailhead turned into a weekend full of alpine magic.
I rolled into Bishop extremely late Thursday night and car-camped at the Pine Creek Trailhead under a sky full of stars. When we got up the next morning, we quickly repacked our bags, and ate a quick breakfast before finally hiting the trail — me still very much recovering from a quick trip to Asia, some serious jet lag, and a post-COVID energy dip. Basically, the worst combo for hiking uphill with a 28lb pack.
Truthfully, about a mile and a half in, I almost turned back. I felt completely awful and didn’t want to slow the girls down. But they were troppers, and sat with me in the shade, pumping me with electrolytes and snacks, and gave me the kind pep talk I needed to pull myself together. We took it slow, and step by step, I started to feel like myself again.
We reached Upper Pine Lake just in time for lunch, then continued past Honeymoon Lake, which was beautiful, but also absolutely swarming with mosquitos. We explored around the lake for a few, but after struggling to find a decent campsite for the three of us, we decided to keep climbing.
After we left Upper Pine Lake, we did a bit of cross country, off route hiking to avoid a few water crossings and after we crested the ridge and entered Granite Park, everything changed. The terrain opened into a lush green basin with a winding stream, tiny wildflowers everywhere, and massive granite peaks surrounding us in every direction. It felt like we’d stepped into another world.
We found the most perfect campsite tucked on a rise overlooking the stream, with distant waterfalls providing the kind of white noise that makes you sleep like a rock. After dinner, we tucked in early to rest up for a possible summit day.
The next morning, we woke up for sunrise, brewed coffee, and set out with our daypacks to explore the upper basin. There was still quite a bit of snow from the heavy winter, especially near the base of Mt. Julius Caesar, and we ultimately decided not to push for the summit. Instead, we scrambled up a nearby ridge for a killer view of the Chalfant Lakes, then spent the rest of the afternoon basking in the sun on a granite boulder, eating snacks and soaking it all in.
Back at camp, we cooked dinner and surprised Emily with birthday dessert while the sun put on a pink-and-gold light show across the peaks. It was the perfect ending to a big day.
The next morning, we slowly packed up camp, savored one last backcountry breakfast, and began the trek back down the mountain, grateful, sore, and full of that post-hike peace you can’t quite replicate.
This trip reminded me that not every hike is about peak-bagging or pushing your limits. Sometimes it’s about slowing down, listening to your body, and letting the mountains meet you where you are. With the right people, some patience, and a little trail magic, even the hardest starts can lead to the most beautiful places.
