Backpacking the Mineral King Loop in Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park offers several route options, each varying in length and difficulty. The classic full loop covers approximately 37 miles with 11,000 feet of elevation gain, typically completed in 3 to 5 days. This version passes through Franklin Lakes, Big Five Lakes, and Timber Gap—showcasing a stunning cross-section of the Sierra.
An alternate, slightly shorter option skips Franklin Lakes and instead takes you past Columbine Lake, Monarch Lake, and over the dramatic Sawtooth Pass. This modified loop is about 30 miles with roughly 10,000 feet of gain and can be completed in 3 to 4 days. This is the route we chose, and it’s the one detailed in this blog.
Both loops are considered challenging, featuring high mountain passes, substantial elevation gain, and prolonged time at altitude. But the effort is rewarded with breathtaking alpine scenery—including sweeping views of SEKI and, on clear days, even Mount Whitney in the distance.
Permits for Backpacking the Mineral King Loop
Permits are required during peak season (typically Memorial Day weekend through late September) to backpack the Mineral King Loop in Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park.
The majority of wilderness permits are released six months in advance on a first-come, first-served basis via Recreation.gov. For example, if you plan to start your trip on June 4, you can reserve your permit starting January 4. A limited number of walk-up permits are also available at the ranger station on the day of your trip.
You’ll need to pick up your permit in person at the Mineral King Ranger Station, located about a mile before the trailhead. Be warned—this drive is no joke. The road is long, narrow, and winding (mostly one-lane), and it can take several hours depending on traffic, weather, or construction. If you’re going for a walk-up permit, expect to find a line at the ranger station—especially on weekends or holiday dates.
When reserving your permit online, you’ll be asked to provide:
- Entry trailhead and date
- Exit trailhead and date
- Nightly campsite itinerary
While your exit date and nightly camps can be adjusted later, it helps to provide as accurate an itinerary as possible to save time when picking up your permit at the trailhead.
We ended up revising nearly our entire itinerary after speaking with the ranger in person, who offered great advice based on our planned mileage and the terrain ahead (big shoutout to her). Her suggestions totally elevated our experience.
We ultimately opted for a 4-day, 3-night clockwise loop with overnight stops at Pinto Lake, Big Five Lakes, and Monarch Lake—a route I’d highly recommend.
When booking your permit to backpack the Mineral King loop, you’ll need to choose your entry trailhead. Here are the main options for completing the loop:
- Timber Gap (Clockwise Loop)
- Sawtooth Pass (Clockwise exiting Franklin, or Counter-clockwise exiting Timber)
- Franklin Pass (Counter-clockwise)
My personal recommendation? Start at Timber Gap and hike clockwise. That route gives you a more manageable ascent over Timber Gap and lets you descend the sandy beast that is Sawtooth Pass, rather than suffer up it. Trust me—Sawtooth is a slog. Every step feels like two steps back, and the loose gravel is no joke. Going clockwise also means you hit Big Five Lakes, one of the trail’s highlights, earlier in your trip—so worth it.
Permits must be picked up on the day of your hike before 10:00 a.m., or they may be canceled. Plan your drive accordingly!
Designated camping is extremely limited along the Mineral King Road. While you might be able to boondock in a few pullouts, it’s not officially allowed and you are subject to being towed or ticketed. We ended up staying at a paid campground near Three Rivers the night before to be safe and stress-free before the long drive in.
https://outdoorstatus.com/embed/trips/us/california/sequoia-kings-canyon-national-parks/little-five-lakes-and-big-five-lakes-loop/?via=sierraCheck for your desired backpacking dates above on Outdoor Status or sign up to receive a push alert to your phone if your desired dates become available. The link above is for backpacking the Mineral King Loop from Timber Gap (clockwise), but you can click THIS link for Sawtooth (counter-clockwise) alert, or THIS one for Franklin Pass.
Trail Information
↟ Food, Trash & Scented Items: All food, trash, and scented items must be stored in bear-proof containers or properly counterbalanced. While many of the established campsites along the loop have bear boxes, they aren’t always right next to your tent pad. Be prepared for a short walk to access them.
↟ Campfire Restrictions: While backpacking the Mineral King Loop, campfires are prohibited above 9,000 feet and at designated locations including Pinto Lake, Summit Lake, Hamilton Lakes, Dillonwood, and the Mineral King Valley. That means for nearly the entire trail, campfires are not allowed so plan to use a backpacking stove for cooking.
↟ Rapidly Changing Weather: Storms are common in this region of the Sierra throughout the season, and conditions can shift quickly. Check the forecast before heading out and be prepared for exposure—portions of this trail traverse high, rocky ridgelines with little shelter.
↟ Campsite Selection: Choose campsites at least 100 feet away from lakes, streams, and trails, and set up on durable ground. This helps protect fragile alpine ecosystems and follows Leave No Trace principles.
↟ Sun Protection: A large portion of this trail is exposed to the elements, especially on high passes like Sawtooth and Timber Gap. Make sure your sun protection is dialed (think wide-brimmed hat, UPF layers, sunglasses, and high-SPF sunscreen) so your skin doesn’t come back as crispy as your camp stove hash browns.
↟ No Camping at Columbine Lake: As stunning as it is, Columbine Lake is currently closed to camping (or was at the time of our trip) due to long-term misuse and poor trail etiquette by previous visitors. The area has suffered from a lack of durable campsites, unburied human waste, and scattered trash and toilet paper. The soil here is especially arid and rocky, making it nearly impossible to dig proper catholes. While camping is no longer allowed, it’s still an amazing lunch or rest stop. Enjoy it respectfully, and help protect the fragile ecosystem for others to appreciate.
↟ Marmots, Marmots, Marmots! I love marmots (they’re one of my favorite animals to spot in the backcountry) but the ones on this trail are something else. Salt-starved and bold, they’ll chew through anything that smells like sweat, including your hiking poles, backpacks, shoes, and clothing. We had especially aggressive marmots at Monarch Lake just after crossing Sawtooth Pass. Reid’s hiking pole got shredded in minutes! Store your gear inside your tent, hang it in a tree, or stash it in a bear box if available. (More on the marmot-parking situation below…)
↟ Recreate Responsibly: Follow Leave No Trace ethics—stay on trail, don’t cut switchbacks, pack out all trash (including toilet paper—it’s required!), and be a good steward of the wild places you’re lucky enough to explore.
Parking & Protecting Your Car (from Marmots!)
Parking is limited at the trails for backpacking the Mineral King Loop, especially on weekends—so plan to arrive early to secure a spot and pick up your permit. The drive into Mineral King is long, winding, and often slow due to narrow roads and steep drop-offs, so be sure to build in some buffer time.
One of the highlights of backpacking in this area is the abundant wildlife that calls SEKI home—including deer, black bears, and… marmots!
These plump, ground-dwelling creatures might look like oversized hamsters (adorable!), but they’ve earned a bit of a reputation here—especially when it comes to cars. After emerging from hibernation in late spring, marmots often experience a deficiency in essential minerals like salt, which are hard to come by in alpine environments. Over time, they’ve figured out that cars can be a surprising source of salt, whether from sweat, road residue, or even fluids like brake or radiator fluid.
The result? Marmots have been known to chew through car wiring, radiator hoses, and other parts of the undercarriage, sometimes causing serious damage.
To protect your car, grab one of the giant tarps available in a shed adjacent to the Mineral King Ranger Station (usually stocked in early summer). Wrap your entire undercarriage and secure the tarp tightly so marmots can’t crawl in underneath. Some people also bring their own tarps or chicken wire to be safe.
It might feel over the top—but trust us, you don’t want to find out the hard way how determined a marmot can be when it comes to chewing through your brake lines. The Ranger told us that past victims have had to wait hours for AAA to come to the rescue.
Giant tarps are available in a shed adjacent to the Mineral King Ranger Station. You will need to grab one during the beginning of the summer and wrap your car so that the undercarriage is unaccessible to these salt-starved Marmots.
Trail Report
Trip Dates: July 4th-7th, 2024
Total Mileage: 30 miles
Trail Type: Loop
Trailhead: Timber Gap
Campsites: Pinto Lake, Big Five Lakes, Monarch Lake
Day 1: The Start of the Loop
Backpacking the Mineral King Loop has been on our shortlist for years. This area of the Sierra has an incredible reputation for its dramatic landscapes and biodiversity, and it’s one of the most coveted permits in Sequoia-Kings Canyon National Park for a reason. After an unforgettable backpacking trip to Rae Lakes the year before, we knew we had to return to SEKI—and Mineral King felt like the perfect next adventure.
It was peak heat wave in July, and even in the shade, it was sweltering. After running into multiple dead ends trying to confirm dispersed camping along the Mineral King Road, we opted for a designated campground close to Three Rivers where we could take our time prepping meals, repacking our gear, and psyching ourselves up for the winding one and a half hour drive to the ranger station in the morning. Our goal: swap our Sawtooth permit for Timber Gap.
We woke up in the dark and were on the road within minutes, hoping to beat the crowd. Along the way, we passed at least half a dozen cars boondocking on the roadside—likely other hopefuls in search of a walk-up permit to also backpack the Mineral King loop in Sequoia Kings Canyon. When we arrived, it was about 30 minutes before the station opened for the 4th of July weekend. We landed spots 6 and 7 in line—out of what eventually grew to over 20 people.
We lucked out and scored one of the last Timber Gap permit, which opened up our Sawtooth reservation for the next group behind us. The ranger was super helpful, giving us directions on how to marmot-proof the truck and sharing campsite recommendations for our clockwise route—advice that ended up shaping a stellar itinerary.
By the time we reached the trailhead, the lot was rapidly filling with backpackers and day-hiking groups. We parked a little out of the way, wrapped the car in a giant tarp (per mineral king ritual), and hit the trail around 10 a.m.
Now, I don’t make many big mistakes on backpacking trips—but when I do, they’re embarrassingly big ones. Between the early start, late morning heat, and zero coffee, I managed to lose our permit within the first mile. Reid, the legend that he is, ran back down to the car and then back to the ranger station to reprint it. Of course, I found the original one later… tucked in the pocket of the jacket I was wearing when we picked it up. This might be my second-biggest trail blunder to date—and probably the last time I’ll be trusted with the permits.
We were back on trail slightly behind schedule, with 8 miles to conquer to Pinto Lake. The trail was lively, with groups leapfrogging each other throughout the day. Just after the first canyon descent, we came across a beautiful river crossing—perfect for cooling down and refilling water. Other hikers looked beat from the heat and the weight of their packs.
My pack weight was pretty standard for me—around 25 lbs with all my camera gear. I was stoked to try out the new Hyperlite Camera Pod, which made carrying my setup feel way more secure and protected, and allowed me way easier access to my camera during trips. I was also testing some Vuori Running Shorts… which, spoiler alert, I absolutely hated. The chafing was unreal and I think at some point my skin scarred over during the trail. Would not recommend for backpacking—I’ll be sticking with my tried-and-true 5″ shorts moving forward, specifically my ever-so-loved Baleaf Shorts.
The final stretch into Pinto Lake was mellow and scenic. We found a shaded campsite with several bear boxes and a stream nearby—prime conditions. A number of other backpackers had also stopped here for the night. We ate a quick dinner and turned in early, knowing tomorrow would bring our first big pass. The plan: start early and beat either a classic Sierra thunderstorm or the blazing midday sun. Hopefully both.
Day 2: Big Gains, Big Views, Big Five Lakes
We woke just before sunrise, minds set and souls bracing for the challenge ahead: 3.5 miles and 3,000 feet of gain to the top of Black Rock Pass—ideally before lunch. Every other group camped nearby seemed to have the same idea. We joined a slow, steady procession of backpackers inching up the slope like ants in the morning light.
The sun felt extra intense that morning, and the tree cover quickly vanished as we climbed above the alpine zone. I leapfrogged between patches of shade like my life depended on it. In classic Reid fashion, he floated up the trail like he was made of helium. Damn him. The views, though, made the effort worth it—you could see the Columbine Lake and Sawtooth Pass area across the canyon, teasing what was still to come later in the trip.
I don’t usually wear headphones while backpacking, but when I do, it’s because I’m actively suffering on a mountain pass—and suffering, I was. We ran through our water quickly and refilled at a thin stream cutting across one of the switchbacks. Based on the flow, I’d guess that stream would be dry within a few weeks.
To get through the grind, I queued up Goth Babe (a real lifesaver), downed energy Jelly Beans, and popped salt tablets like candy. After every two songs, I’d let myself pause for a breath and check the status of my extremely self-inflicted—and absolutely brutal—chafing. (Shoutout again to the Vuori shorts that betrayed me.)
Eventually, I topped out at Black Rock Pass and collapsed onto a stubborn patch of snow still clinging to the summer rocks for dear life—a perfectly chilled seat for a well-earned break. We sat there, my legs throbbing, taking in the expansive views while snacking on dried meats and cheese. Not a single storm cloud in sight—just bluebird skies, mountain air, and pure peak Sierra energy.
The descent into Big Five Lakes was a dream compared to the climb. We leapfrogged with a friendly group who were also from Santa Cruz, which gave the whole section a good energy boost. After 3.5 more miles to the trail junction, we made the decision to take a side quest: another mile (each way) and 1,000 feet of elevation gain to reach Upper Big Five Lake—one of the more remote and peaceful options in the basin. (And it was worth it.)
There were only about 3–4 other groups camping at the lake with us. Most people stayed at the lake right along the main trail, so these side quest lakes felt like a peaceful retreat. The vibe was relaxed, quiet, and remote…apart from the bugs.
We tried to swim, but the mosquitos were next level. As in: biblical plague level. They seemed to be especially obsessed with me (lucky me), and I spent most of the afternoon hiding out in the tent. We had our rain gear and bug nets, which helped, but I probably would’ve traded my camera gear for a full-body bug suit at that point. We dipped in the lake for a few freezing cold minutes before scrambling back into our layers as the mosquitos swarmed again.
That night, we tucked into one of my favorite Mountain House meals—Teriyaki Chicken—and polished off the bag of gummy bears to raise morale. Our camp had some nice tree cover, and plenty of rocks and boulders to spread out on. Even with the bugs, it was a beautiful and quiet place to spend the night.
We fell asleep excited for Day 3—the climb to Sawtooth Pass was coming up, and we were ready to see if it lived up to the hype.
Day 3: A Love Letter to the Mineral King Loop
If I could write a love letter to SEKI, it would be about backpacking the Mineral King loop on Day Three.
We started the morning climbing back out of our side quest to Upper Big Five Lake, regaining elevation quickly to rejoin the main loop. After passing the last of the Big Five Lakes, we merged with a few other groups who had camped lower along the trail and began making our way up the canyon toward Sawtooth Pass.
The trail climbed gradually, parting ways with the Franklin Pass junction after a few miles. From there, we followed a mellow stretch that traced the path of a small river, weaving in and out of pine forest. Fallen trees and rocky creek beds broke up the rhythm, but the shaded dirt trail was a welcome reprieve from the previous day’s ascent.
Eventually, we emerged into a wide clearing—and it stopped us in our tracks.
Ahead was the start of the steep switchbacks toward Columbine Lake, but just beyond us was a perfect alpine meadow. A snaking creek shimmered through the grass, trout darted in and out of its current, and granite walls enclosed it all in a kind of quiet magic. We paused here for lunch, grabbing what little shade we could behind the boulders and watching the slow parade of hikers climbing the switchbacks above us.
The switchbacks were steep and the sun was unforgiving. I darted between trees and shaded rocks like a squirrel trying to stay cool. Reid (once again) floated up the trail effortlessly, while I paused often—not just to catch my breath but to take in the views and reset my legs.
When Columbine Lake came into view, I let out an audible “whoa.”
The lake sat perfectly framed beneath Sawtooth Peak, shimmering and icy blue. The pass we’d soon be climbing looked impossibly far and steep, barely visible as tiny threadlike trails across the rock.
We filtered water near the lakeshore and joined a few other backpackers lounging in the shade—recovering from their own brutal climb. After a quick rest, it was our turn to tackle the final 1,000-foot grind to the pass.
The climb to the top of Sawtooth Pass was loose and rugged, with no clear trail—just scattered cairns and a dozen braided use paths until the last push. But then—finally—we topped out.
From the pass, the views stretched endlessly. On this clear day, we could even see Mt. Whitney far off in the distance. It was surreal to think we’d be summiting that peak later this summer. We sat briefly to snack and take it all in before making a decision: go down the infamous Sawtooth chute, or take the slightly less aggressive trail to Monarch Lake?
We chose the trail—and it was still chaos.
The sandy descent felt like walking down a dune with a backpack on. My shoes filled with gravel instantly, and I cursed myself for not packing gaiters. Every few steps, my feet would sink 6–12 inches into the choss, making it nearly impossible to keep steady.
A word of advice: don’t even attempt this without poles. I don’t know how we would’ve stayed upright otherwise.
After what felt like miles (but was less than one), we finally stumbled into the Monarch Lake basin.
Monarch Lake was stunning—surrounded by towering granite cliffs, still water, and sun-warmed slabs perfect for stretching out. We found a campsite tucked behind a rock wall near a bear box and set up camp just as the late afternoon light turned everything golden.
And then… the marmots came.
At first it was one—cute, curious, eyeing us from a rock. But quickly we realized we were surrounded. These marmots had zero fear. One even tugged on Reid’s hat while he was napping. It was war.
We went for a quick dip to cool off, but I kept seeing them inch toward camp from the water. Sure enough, when I returned, it was Marmot Central: poles chewed, packs toppled, and three marmots literally fighting over the patch where Reid had peed earlier. Wild.
From that moment on, camp was under constant surveillance. Reid stood guard while I rested, and I made dinner while scanning the perimeter like I was on patrol. The marmots circled like little salt-crazed gremlins, each daring the others to get closer.
As night fell, we packed everything tightly, hung gear from a tree, and locked up our food in the bear box—which was already overflowing with other campers’ gear who had clearly reached the same conclusion about our furry adversaries.
Later, I set up for some star photos, watching the Milky Way rise behind the peaks. It was a perfect ending to a big, beautiful, absolutely chaotic day on trail—and our last night backpacking the Mineral King loop.
Day 4: The Last Descent
When morning came, our objective shifted to one thing: food.
What would we welcome into our bodies first? Would it be a cold smoothie from Jamba Juice? A greasy, glorious burger and milkshake? We had 4.6 miles of sweet, sweet descent to decide.
As we rejoined the main trail, it quickly became obvious that we were close to civilization—the day hikers grew more frequent with every switchback, their clean clothes and fresh energy a stark contrast to our dusty, sunburned, marmot-traumatized selves. The wildflowers and weeds were taller here, with lupine spread across each meadow like spilled paint from a hiker’s palette.
The trail began rocky, then smoothed out as we dropped farther into the canyon. We took one last look up at Sawtooth Pass, letting out an audible “Jesus Christ” at the sheer scale of the mountain pass we had conquered. Then we turned our sights downward, toward D.B. the truck, who patiently awaited our return at the trailhead.
By then, my mind was blank—fully focused on getting it done. My feet were starting to scream from four days of mileage and the reality that I hadn’t trained nearly enough for this kind of trail this early into the summer. Reid pulled ahead and reached the trailhead first, chatting with another couple who had been leapfrogging us for most of the trip.
They’d followed the same itinerary as us but had generally hiked at a slower pace, leaving Monarch Lake a bit earlier that morning. When we caught up, they were clearly beat. One of them exclaimed that this was the hardest trail they’d ever done—an epic, yes, but absolutely brutal. We agreed wholeheartedly and handed them a couple of cold-ish beers from our cooler to toast surviving the journey.
And finally—finally—we made our way back to civilization, which naturally led us to the gourmet glory of In-N-Out Burger. Juicy burgers, salty fries, thick milkshakes. Our first real meal after four days of dehydrated food. Heaven.
But in a perfect twist of trail fate, just as we were settling into our post-hike feast, that very same couple walked into the same In-N-Out. Of all the restaurants in town, they chose the same one. We spent the next half hour recounting the highs, lows, and marmots of the trail together, tired and full, already nostalgic for the miles behind us.
The Real MVPs of Mineral King
Some gear fades into the background. Other pieces carry you—literally, emotionally, sometimes through swarms of mosquitoes. These are the things I was really glad I brought with me on this trip:
🌀 Trekking Poles
There’s no way around it: Black Rock and Sawtooth would’ve eaten me alive without trekking poles (I just upgraded to these Black Diamond poles). Poles were total lifesavers on the steep climbs, and on the sandy, knee-jarring descent. My knees are still sending thank-you notes.
🌞 Sun Hoody
Absolutely essential for those long, exposed sections above tree line. It kept me cool, covered, and semi-protected from my bad habit of forgetting to reapply sunscreen mid-day. I wore the REI Sun Hoody on this trip and loved it—the sleeves are a bit longer than other options I’ve tried, and for my 5’9″ frame, my hands were very thankful.
🍬 Gummy Bears (Albanese only, let’s be real)
Unparalleled flavor. High-vibe trail snack. Possibly the only thing keeping morale high on Day 2. If you know, you know.
⚡ Electrolyte Tablets + Energy Chews
The unsung heroes of high-altitude climbs. I rationed these out like trail currency, giving myself tiny hits of energy just to make it to the next bend.
🦟 Bug Repellent + Bug Net
By Day 2, it was clear: mosquitos run this loop. While I usually prefer natural products for my skin, I make an exception for DEET. We went through nearly an entire bottle of Jungle Juice between the two of us—and I have no regrets.
📷 Hyperlite Camera Pod
So glad I had this. Having quick access to my camera without digging into my pack meant I didn’t miss the magic moments—especially around Big Five and Columbine.
Have any questions or comments about backpacking the Mineral King Loop? Leave them below!
Happy Hikin’!
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