Early in my move to Tennessee one thing I still missed was access to the high mountains. I was enjoying the Smokies, and had not yet really discovered the Cumberlands, but I missed that top of the world feeling one could get on a western summit high above treeline. My early hiking trips had all been mountain focused, hiking a trail to the top, and then coming back down. I’d broadened my world, appreciating the canyons and the forests, but the mountains were still where I felt the most at home.
After
some successful peak bagging in the time I lived out west, this would be my
last dedicated peak bagging trip. I’d still make many trips to the mountains
near home and across the country, but this would be the last time I’d head out
for a week with a list of peaks that I wanted to climb, and mostly as day hikes.
I remembered living in Reno in the early 80s that there was great access to the
Sierra Nevada and other desert peaks. My friend Karl was now living there, and
I put together some other bucket list summits around an attempt with Karl on
Middle Palisade in the Sierras.
But first on my list was Boundary Peak, the highest point in Nevada. I still needed a few other western states to complete my 50 State High Points, but knew if I was ever to complete that list I’d have to do many of them solo. Boundary is a peak isolated at the north end of California’s White Mountains (distinct from my native White Mountains of New England) that few others would have much interest in. As long as I was in that range, I thought I’d also try for White Mountain Peak, the high point of the Whites, and the only fourteener in the lower 48 outside of Colorado, the Sierras, and the Cascades. After Middle Palisade, I hoped to move over to Yosemite and climb Mt. Dana, a 13er, and one of the park’s most scenic peaks. Most of the climbs would be walk ups, but Middle Palisade offered some third and fourth class climbing.
9-3-94
I
flew into Reno arriving at 11:30, and rented a Chevy Cavalier from Alamo. I
drove 225 miles south to the turnoff for Boundary Peak and into the Inyo
National Forest following the instructions in Holmes’ Highpointers Guide. Presumably
I drove down US 395. The guide had all the turns noted correctly, but the
rental car was barely up to the challenge, a very wash boardy road for the
first 6 miles, then lots of rocks and wash outs in the last six miles. Already
I was bored with all the solo driving and was looking forward to seeing Karl in
the Sierras. I camped by the trailhead with several other parties.
From
the road, Boundary is an impressive peak. The White Mountains rise steeply on
the west side, and less so on the east, with long canyons stretching out toward
the plains. From the west side, Boundary and Montgomery looked bleached white,
with the rest of the range looking buff brown. The route for the next day’s
hike looked rough.
Trail Canyon TH
9-4-94
There
is no maintained trail to the top of Boundary Peak, but the route is as well
used as you’d expect from a state highpoint. I was on the way at 6:45 and still
had another 15 minutes walking to reach the end of the road. There was no
campsite at the road end, so it was good I stopped where I had. The route times
were one hour to the end of the springs, an hour up the draw, another hour up a
steep wall, then another 30 minutes to the summit. After a summer of hiking in
the dense greenery of Tennessee the sun-blasted White Mountains were a
revelation. The trail was very faint from the springs to the end of the
sagebrush. From the sagebrush upward the ground was very loose, and the rock
all shattered to form a deep talus. Boundary was a mountain that seemed to be
falling apart. The existing path didn’t follow either the Holmes or Zumwalt
guides exactly, I ended up going more left (south) after the springs, and
climbing nearly straight to the summit. Unfortunately, this was one of the rare
trips where I did not mark all my hiking routes, so I do not have a precise map
of any routes on this trip. I saw three other parties.
Boundary Peak from the meadows.
The
top had a register and great views of the range south to White Mountain Peak. I
could see snowbanks on the east face of Dubois, the next main peak to the
south. Boundary is an unusual highpoint in that it is a spur of a larger peak.
Had other survey lines been used for the CA-NV border, or different criteria
used for highpoints, Wheeler Peak (13,065’), way over in the Snake Range in the
eastern edge of the state, would be the Nevada highpoint. The main summit of
13,140’ Boundary is 13,441’ Montgomery Peak, separated by the 12,887 Cal-Nev
boundary monument. I was doing well on time, and decided to try for Montgomery.
Might as well get all the way to the top! There was a fainter path between the
peaks where the route swung sharply east around the shattered ridge crest. The
traverse was on steep, loose talus that had me twice thinking about turning
back, but I eventually found my way to the top. 
Montgomery Peak from Boundary.
I
retraced my route back, arriving hot, tired, and fried by the sun, despite
drinking three quarts of water. I’d forgotten how tough it is to climb 4,000’
in a day. To drive to the White Mountain Peak trailhead I had to loop south and
into California thru the Fish Lake Valley, one of the most desolate places I’d
ever seen. The last store I’d seen had been the day before in Lee Vining. I thought about stopping at Grandview Campground
in the Inyo NF, but it didn’t have water, and looked crowded. So, I went past
it and found a nice campsite by the side of the paved road. I had just enough
water for cooking, cleaning, and the next day’s hike, with the plan to go into
Bishop the next night for a hotel.
Montgomery
Peak, 13441’ and Boundary Peak 13,140’, 8.4 miles
White Mountain Road
9-5-94
The
White Mountains lie in the shadow of the Sierras in literally every way
possible. The Sierras are taller, and that range is broader and longer. The
range of light is one of the best explored in the country and has an impressive
literature, while the Whites remain almost unknown. And the Sierras are to the
west, meaning their evening shadows fall on the Whites, and that the range’s
impressively efficient rain shadow guarantees the White remain dry, stark, and
nearly lifeless. 
White Mountain Peak from the approach road.
One
thing the White Mountains are known for is their groves of bristlecone pines,
renown as some of the oldest life on earth. In the morning I passed both the
Shulman Grove, containing the Methuselah Tree and the Patriarch Grove driving
toward the trailhead. The University of California operates research stations
on the mountain, so the road is in good shape beyond the Patriarch Grove to a
locked gate. It took me an hour to reach the locked gate, then 45 minutes of
hiking on the maintained road to reach the Barcroft Research Station and
Observatory. Beyond the Observatory the route followed a two track road. I took
3:30 to get to the summit of White Mountain Peak, the last hour and a half
included a drop to a low saddle and a switchback route to the top. There was
still a little snow on the north slopes on the south side of the saddle. I’m
not sure if I had a guidebook description for the route, but with a road to the
top one was hardly necessary.
White Mountain Peak Summit.
There
was a large body of granite near Barcroft, but the rest of the hike was over
hornfels and other metamorphic rocks. I saw four other parties, fewer than I’d
seen on the mountain yesterday. One group of mountain bikes had even made it to
the summit. I told myself I could have ridden to the low saddle (yeah right, at
13,000’), and walked the last two miles to the top.
The
Patriarch Grove was a mile off the main road, so instead I hit the one mile hiking
loop at Shulman Grove instead. Next I drove into Big Pine and got a room for
the night at the Starlight Motel. I called Jean, and then Karl to finalize our
arrangements for meeting for Middle Palisade.
Bristlecone pines in the Shulman Grove.
White
Mountain Peak, 14,246’, 14 miles
Big Pine, CA Starlight Motel
9-6-22
This
was to be an easy day to allow me to rest up for Middle Palisade. I ate
breakfast in Big Pine and then drove the USFS road west up Big Pine Canyon
toward Glacier Lodge. I staked a campsite at Upper Sage Flats campground. The
first part of our climb would overlap with a 1990 John Muir Trail trip I’d
taken with Buddy and Steve up the South Fork. The 1990 trip had started with
the group splitting up on the hike in, with two parties sleeping on opposite
sides of the ice covered fourth class Southfork Pass. I hoped this trip would
go more smoothly.
North Fork of Big Pine Creek.
I’m
not sure how we choose Middle Palisade for our target, but suspect this was
Karl’s idea. He would have been more interested in a technical climb, and
likely would have had access to more local information on the intriguing peaks
than I would have. My copy of Roper’s “The Climber’s Guide to High Sierra” lists
the East Face (sometimes called the North Face) route as class 3, with some
fourth class sections being the penalty for navigation errors.
Temple Crag above the North Fork of Big Pine Creek.
But
my goal for this day was just an easy day hike. I decided on the trail to First
Lake on the North Fork of Big Pine Creek to give me some new terrain. The first
45 minutes of the hike was mundane, but improved once I exited the sagebrush
into a cool forest by a waterfall. From there it was a pretty walk to an
overlook above the lake. I had lunch at the lake, and then returned via a lower
route that headed back to Glacier Lodge. As a quick aside, the main lodge
building here burned in 1998, but the resort still operates (2022) as cabins
and camping. I was able to eat a wonderful dinner at the nearly empty lodge
while Karl arrived late and had to suffer dinner by Taco Bell. 
First Lake.
The
hike was enough to give me doubts about the climb. The Palisades group was
every bit as intimidating as I’d expected, with all the routes seeming steep
and exposed. Plus, the was the specter of the debacle at Southfork Pass looming
in the background.
9
miles to First Lake
Upper Sage Campground
9-7-94
Our
permit pickup went smoothly, probably the result of a post Labor Day drop in
demand. We shuttled our packs to the trailhead and stated hiking about 8:15.
The trail (described as an obscure footpath by the FS) was easy to follow to
Brainard Lake. From there we split from my 1990 route to Southfork Pass, and
followed a fainter path to a beautiful campsite high above Finger Lake.
Finger Lake.
We
set up camp about 1:30 and rested up a bit. But naturally we got restless and
took a short scramble up the cliffs above the lake. We took a path of sorts to
a point where we could see much of the Middle Palisade Glacier and all of our
route above it. The route looked slightly less intimidating, and Karl’s opinion
was that it was doable for us. I was less sure, but knew that regardless of the
outcome it would be a beautiful day. We did more scrambling on the route back
to camp, which helped me a bit with my confidence.
South
Fork Big Pine Creek, 6 miles
Finger Lake
9-8-94
Summit
Day! We left camp at 7AM and hiked to 9:30 to reach the top of Middle Palisade
Glacier. Most of the hiking was easy, along a faint path, until we reached the
steep moraine of the glacier. We found the start of the route OK, but were
surprised when it began with a 20’ pitch of rock climbing. We made the climb,
then traversed a well beaten path into a broad couloir. The couloir started
with another brief climb, but then the climbing got a bit easier. I imagine
Karl was doing the leading and the route finding. He was better, and more
experienced, at this than I. The guidebooks discuss a variety of variations of
this East Face Route, each using whatever couloirs appeared to be better routes
the season that the writer was there.
Looking down on Middle Palisade Glacier.
Our
first couloir died out near a prominent pinnacle (probably the gendarme
described in some guides). From the pinnacle we climbed the right hand arete,
and then followed the next couloir to the right. This was the easiest section
of the climb, and well within the advertised third class climbing. Next we
reached a greenish rib where the couloir forked, and we went left. We used some
of the floor and some of the wall of the couloir as it gradually steepened,
though most of the climbing was on well-travelled ledges. 
Gooseneck near the summit of Middle Palisade.
Near
the top things got even steeper and we topped out between two pinnacles. I went
to the right to be a photo subject and found out quickly that was not the correct
way. Downclimbing from that pinnacle was sketchy, and so was the final
scrambling to the summit. I was so relieved when Karl called out “I see the
register”, his navigating had been right on. It was 11 AM.
The
views were fantastic, of course, but this was more a climb for the challenge,
rather than the scenery. We could see the High Sierra crest from Mt. Whitney on
the south to North Palisade on the north, and west into the rest of the range.
The White Mountains to the east were also clear. Even the wind, which had
howled all night through our campsite was nearly still, if you hid behind the
right rock. I was exhilarated, this was about as much technical climbing as I
done. We signed ourselves into the register, and for some reason added Don
Gifford, a friend of ours from our Black Hills days. There were only a few
ascents in the register for 1994, almost all in August, and none over the recent
Labor Day weekend.
Descending Middle Palisade.
Alas,
getting up a mountain is often much easier than going down. We knew our good
times had to end, and started down. We took two short rappels into the couloir,
and then Karl gave me belays for 4-5 pitches of downclimbing, before I realized
this was slowing us down too much. With most of the hard pitches already behind
us I was able to do most of the rest of the down climb unroped. Karl was a far
more experienced rock climber and had little trouble with the downclimb. We
were also able to downclimb the short wall at the base of the lowest couloir,
but needed a short rappel to descend the cliff down to the head of the glacier.
Descending Middle Palisade.
On
the hike back to camp we descended snow as much as we could, traversing about
half of what my journal calls the Norman Clyde Glacier, but was probably the
west half of the Middle Palisade glacier. We arrived back in camp at 3:30 and
napped for bit. After a quick, cold dinner we fell asleep to the winds which
howled again all night.
Middle
Palisade, 14,040
Finger Lake, 10 miles
9-9-94
We
slept in waiting for the winds to die down. The hike out took only 2:45, we saw
6 other parties heading in. At the trailhead Karl had left beer on ice and to
our pleasure it was still cold two days later. We then drove into Bishop, had
lunch, and then split up, unfortunately with me still in possession of Karl’s
tent body.
My
next goal was a day hike of Mt. Dana in Yosemite National Park. This would be
my first visit to Yosemite, except for a brief, barely remembered side
excursion on a trip in grad school. I drove up to Tioga Pass to Tuolumne Meadows.
All the campgrounds in the park were closed but I was able to call Jean
briefly, after standing in a long line for the pay phone. The forest service
campgrounds near the park were all full, so I ended up at the highest county
campground above Lee Vining on Highway 120. Since I was so close to town, I
went down for dinner before heading back to my campsite to repack.
Hike
out, 6 miles
County Campground
9-10-94
Easy
access from Tioga Pass makes Mt. Dana one of the most popular peaks in the
Yosemite area. The route is an easy class 2 walkup. I started from a little
truck turnout directly at the park’s east entrance booth. At the beginning
there is a well-defined trail. The whole route is officially off trail, but my
Wilderness Press map of Yosemite NP, showed the first half as trail. About
halfway up the route indeed became less defined as it worked its way up a talus
cone to the summit. The hike took only 2:10, but would have been much longer
except for a cold wind. I stopped only once for a quick drink, and wore all my
clothes all the way to the top.
Mt Dana Summit.
The
view from Dana was all I expected. You look directly down into Mono Lake and
across the valley to the White Mountains. In Yosemite, Mt. Conness and other
peaks to the north are close, and I could see nearly straight down again into
the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne. This was one of the best short summit hikes I
ever did, it was just too bad the wind blew so hard.
View of Yosemite from Mt Dana.
In
the afternoon I drove back to Reno, had some trouble finding a hotel, but ended
up at the McCarran House in Sparks. I flew back to Knoxville the next day.
As
might be expected for such a legendary mountain range, the Sierras have
inspired some great literature. First up is “Mountaineering in the Sierra
Nevada” a story of the mapping of the range by Clarence King the first director
of the US Geological Survey. John Muir’s “My First Summer in the Sierra”
“The Mountains of
California” are the range’s classic stories of exploration. A surprise 2022 addition is “The High Sierra: A Love Story”
by Kim Stanley Robinson, a science fiction writer best known for his Mars
trilogy. Coincidentally I found Robinson’s book in the library as I was
transcribing my journal from this trip. It is a wonderful story of his lifetime
affair with the mountains, weaving together its natural and human history with
Robinson’s own lifetime of trips.
Mt
Dana, 13,083’
Reno
