After our last experience on the south side of Lone Pine Peak, we wanted
to return immediately. However, the winds that nearly blew us off the
Serrated Ridge brought with it a white blanket which covered the peaks
throughout the last week. Finally, getting stir-crazy in the valley, we
decided to hike in the snow to check out a future endeavor and get some
fresh air. On our way, we couldn’t help but notice the dry,
south-facing granite looming above us. We continued on towards the
stone house, knowing that we would turn around to pack for the trip that
couldn’t wait.
Salami…check. Dry milk…check. Inflatable pillows…check, check.
We are ready to go by the next morning. Arriving at the base of what
appeared from afar to be a ridgeline, we encountered a bunch of wide,
kitty-liter quality rock. We had been hiking for about 2 hours and the
idea of going around the corner to scope out other options seemed like
such a challenging task. We built up the energy and walked to the right
of the formation. We found a large dihedral that took off from the
ground eventually hitting a saddle that connected to the large brown
dihedral we had seen from afar. The climbing looked moderately
difficult and we would have to climb 4-5 pitches before connecting with
what we thought would be the 1st real pitch if we chose the ridge route.
We decided to stick to our plan and climb the ridge, so we wrapped
our kiwi coils in order to simulclimb. Myles started up and before
making any progress, called down, “You wanna go direct?” “Yes”, I
called back, “this looks stupid!” We reflaked the rope and hiked back
over to the beautiful dihedral…not knowing how difficult or long of a
process we had in store for us, knowing only, that this was the line we
had come to do. I must admit, I was nervous; the wall had transformed
from a simulclimbing romp with a few more difficult pitches into the
unknown. The days in mid-November are short, and the descent will be
covered in snow…yet, here we go!
Myles goes up the dihedral with ease ending atop a bowling pin block.
After a flake, he steps across to a roof and belays me up.
I take the rope up a chalkstone arc and wandered up the wall passing 2 beautiful flakes to where my rope ran out in an oasis.
Myles joined me in my perfect little hole and took off over a
chicken-head roof crack, eventually belying in an alcove about 100 ft.
up. His pitch was short, which he briefly mentioned while we looked up
at the lieback I was about to climb. I used the nut tool to clean-out a
spot for gear in the beginning (a technique we had used a time or two
before on this route). As I reached the top where the lie-back widened
and my only #3 was 10’ under me (the other was at the belay), I reached
up and found the jug…except it was moss. The slickest, oozing, slimy
moss I have ever encountered! I tried to jam my thigh into the crack
and all of the sudden…POP! I was off. Hanging 10 ft, below my piece, I
collected myself. “My turn”, I hear not 20 seconds later. “Bullshit!”
I yell back as I grab the rope and get to high point as quickly as
possible. This time, I put in another piece a little lower and take my
#3 with me. I go again for the mossy jug, my thigh slips in, and I
place my #3- whew! I skim up the mossy, muddy, wide crack to join into
another wide crack.
My angry partner joins me at my tree belay and renounces my
decision to go up the wide crack instead of going up the face…with no
pro. We had to carry our boots, microspikes, as well as the ordinary
all-day climbing items; making the 2nd carry a thick, heavy pack. Haha.
He took the rope left over some 4th class to the case of the brown
dihedral. He went up the odd, brown face protecting the crack. After
standing on some questionable, but necessary, blocks on the face, he
moved left to a ledge and belay.
I went up some flakes, over a ledge, and worked the ledge left to
where I encountered easy knobs to a thin ledge belay. The experience
of tiptoeing across unprotected, easy knob-climbing has become one of my
favorite aspects of climbing in the Sierras…the other option was a wide
crack, which my partner wouldn’t have appreciated! Myles then walked
up a ramp to make an unnerving move across to an overhanging, wide crack
with bushes on top. After a difficult move, he lead us past flakes and
cracks to the summit.
That was it. We were done. The sun had almost hidden behind the canyon
leaving us just enough time to get back to camp. The descent is long
and snowy, but we could still manage to see our faint tracks from 2
weeks ago and our microspikes kick ass:) As we relaxed by the fire
that night, Myles asked me what my favorite part of the day was.
Thinking for a moment, I replied, “When you wanted to do the direct.”
We have no prior knowledge of the route being done. It goes up the
white fin on the right-hand side of Autumn Ledges for about 1450 ft.
Even though I fell, I think it goes at about 5.9…without the moss!
