My favorite books on the High Sierra

Daniel Arnold’s book describes his journey to climb 15 of the Sierra’s most prominent peaks by their first-ascent routes—and mostly using similar gear to the first-ascent party. As a Sierra mountaineer and backpacker, his writing immediately captivated me because he wove his adventure together with that of the first ascent party. His careful historical research drew me back in time, providing context for why each climber was pursuing the summit, their personalities and passions, and, importantly, how well (or poorly…) documented the Sierra’s topography was at the time of their explorations. My mind kept wandering into the past, imagining a time when I didn’t have ready access to detailed maps and thinking how different Sierra exploring once was. 

Rachel Mazur was a wildlife biologist in Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia National Parks for many years. A core component of her job was “solving the bear problem”—generation upon generation of bears dependent on human food and ever more aggressive and crafty as they endeavored to satisfy this desire. Her story artfully weaves together the history of bear-human interactions in the Sierra, scientific research on bear habits and diets, and importantly sociology, especially people’s changing perception of acceptable wildlife management and visitors changing expectations of the attractions on offer in a national park. The book is skillfully written and thought-provoking, but also heartening as it ends with evidence that changing wildlife management and visitor actions mean bears are slowly becoming wilder again.

I’ve read and enjoyed reading nearly every trail narrative on the John Muir Trail (JMT). I find it difficult to pick one to highlight as a favorite and ultimately selected Christy’s because I truly connected to her descriptions of self-discovery as she hiked the JMT. She reflected and learned from each mistake and internally celebrated each success. She describes her trip with humility, happily laughing at her own mistakes, yet simultaneously has a wonderful sense that she knew she would emerge from her trip stronger and she knew what was important to her. I cannot imagine a better book for a newcomer to long distance hiking; you’ll learn how much planning is required, but also how much you can only learn once on the trail.

Every step in the Sierra leads you across landscapes shaped by a succession of geologic events—overwhelming to comprehend at times. I’ve read and reread this book because it describes not just what you see, but explains, in approachable language, the processes that led to the rocks you see. The book is comprised of as series of vignettes, each focused on a different rock outcrop, formed through a unique process at a particular moment in the Sierra’s geologic history. 

The folklore of any region is defined by big personalities—people whose impact far outlasts their lifetime and whose name is almost always mentioned with reverence. As the decades pass and their accomplishments and life stories become more distant, it is essential to have books that remind us why they are worth memorializing. This book tells the story of two such Sierran giants, Pete Starr and Norman Clyde. Pete Starr, was a young, accomplished mountaineer when he vanished on a climbing trip in the Minarets, west of Mammoth Lakes. He already had a completed draft of the first comprehensive hiking guide to the Sierra. Norman Clyde probably claims the most first Sierran ascents to his name. When search parties failed to find Starr, only Clyde persisted, showing the true character of a man often remembered for refusing to abide by society's norms.