Forks of the Kern, Golden Trout Wilderness

What happens when the trail isn't there; when it's not maintained; when it's brushed over; when it can't be found? That's the situation I found myself in when I walked the trail down into the Golden Trout Wilderness Area from the Lloyd's Meadow/Forks of the Kern Trail head.
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On several occasions, I've backpacked from the Blackrock Trail head to Casa Vieja Meadows down Ninemile Creek, to the trail junction at Kern Flats, but I've always turned around there. I thought it would be a nice day hike to enter from Lloyd's Meadow and walk along the Kern to my previous turn around point.
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Just a few yards from the parking area, the trail begins with a long steep descent into the Kern River Canyon. With extensive views down to the actual forks of the Kern, it's easy to keep up a good pace, and I got to the river in under an hour. It was early in the morning, and there were tents right at the foot of the trail. People were still sleeping, so I kept as quiet as I could, while I took off my boots and forded the Kern. My map showed that the trail I was looking for was on the north side of the river, and my ford took me to the south shore, but I had all day, so I figured that I should at least look around a bit. After knocking around in the brush for awhile, I back tracked to my ford, and the north side of the river and began looking for the trail.
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There was a faint, but noticeable, trace going through an open, grassy area that went over a slight rise. In a few minutes I was over to the other side and in the sandy river bottom. My map showed that the trail hugged the river bank, so that's were I went. I followed it as closely as I could, pushing through brush, and climbing over rocks and the occasional downed tree. At first, the canyon was quite wide, and there was plenty of space for me to wander into when the actual river bank became too overgrown to follow.
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In time I came to a rock formation that jutted out into the river itself. With steep walls going right down into the water, it was clear that the trail had either been washed out when the river had carved a new channel, or at some point, the trail had gone over and around this obstruction. I began working my way back, but this time I tried to walk as closely to the steep sides of the canyon as I could. I kept finding what looked like paths, but when I followed them up hill, I soon found them to be old game trails, or so over grown as to be impassable.
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It was clear, while walking along the river bed, that lots of people had walked this way before. Footprints were everywhere, but most of them went through brush to the river. Fishermen had beaten down enough routes, looking for good places to catch trout, that trying to locate a specific trail would be next to impossible. Finding a maintained route up and around the cliff that had stopped my route up canyon was also not a viable option, so I turned back up canyon with the intention of going straight up and over the rock outcrop.
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Someone else had had that idea. There was a visible route that went straight up the side of the rock, and even though, at points, I had to get down on all fours, and hug the ground, I followed that path. After a hundred or so feet of elevation gain, I was able to work my way across the rock face, only to find that the only real route to the other side was a faint trace, going straight down. There were some trees and brush that I was able to grab. If not, I probably would not have been able to get down safely. As I started up canyon again, I wondered if I would be able to get back the same way I had come.
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When I had looked over the map, before driving up from Los Angeles to the trail head, it looked like I'd be able to get up stream, all on one side of the river. I didn't think I'd have to do any fording of the river, so I left the old, worn out pair of sandals that I keep for crossing streams at home. That was a mistake. I was able to keep going up river, but the only way I could make progress was by either fording from one side to the other, or by wading right up the middle of the stream. With my boots laces tied, and draped over my neck, I felt my way along, trying not to hurt my feet on sharp rocks, or to fall on slippery ones. I kept wondering how I would get out if I fell and my boots were lost. Eventually, I came to a point in the river where large rocks, a deep hole, and a waterfall made the route impassable. I tried to follow the same route, on my return, as closely as I could, looking for the fords that had proved themselves safe. When I came to the cliff that I had climbed around, I made the decision to try wading down stream, rather than risking my neck, climbing a second time. It was an easy passage, less than ten yards from one end to the other.
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On my return down canyon, I kept away from the river bank, looking for any trace of a trial that could lead me around all of the obstructions and to the Kern Flats area, but if there was a path there, I never saw it. I thought that it would be a hard climb out of the canyon and back up to the trail head, but it wasn't. I made good progress, passed a couple of back packers, and was back to my car by 3 o'clock. I had started my trip at 7:30 in the morning.
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A note on mileage. According to the Tom Harrison Maps, Golden Trout Wilderness Map, it's 2.3 miles from trail head to the foot of the trail in the canyon, and then another 6 miles to a trail junction at Kern Flats. That trail goes to Trout Meadows. I won't even guess how many miles I walked on this trip. I kept up a good strong pace on the only really maintained route going down into and then back up out of the canyon. Bushwhacking, wading, climbing around rocks, and wandering along game trails makes it impossible to get a reasonable estimate of how far I walked. The Harrison map is not detailed enough to really get a good handle of how far up canyon I walked. My next post will be some digital photos I took along the way.