September in the Sierra

Mt. Gould

September is usually the best time of year to visit the Sierra. Weather ain't too cold, snow ain't too high. Wanted to get at it while the goin' was good so on the 7th Grace and I took a little trip up to Kearsarge Pass. We drove up the 395 the day prior, noticing the major construction being done on several parts of the highway. Pulled up to the parking lot at Onion Valley and slept the whole night through. We were lucky to find a parking spot there; on the way up we saw several cars parked along the side of the road leading into the lot.

We woke up the next morning just as the sun was cresting the Inyo Mountains to the east. Little bits of early morning light could be seen reflecting off the tippy tops of the high peaks. We gobbled down some energy bars, put on the layers, and headed out on the pleasantly graded trail. As we moseyed on up the trail we saw the light percolate down the sides of the mountains, painting the valley with a delicate, golden radiance.

We took our time, running into the occasional hiker who was walking down the trail back to civilization. We walked by Little Pothole Lake, Gilbert Lake, Flower Lake. Not a lot of people were out and about which was a surprise to me. Given the popularity of the trail, I was expecting a whole lot of traffic. 

We made it to the switchbacks that pass above the aptly named Heart Lake and after surpassing those we caught our first glimpse of Kearsarge Pass and Mount Gould. I mentioned to Grace that if we felt good at the Pass then maybe we could take a shot at climbing Mount Gould since it's basically right next to it. Mount Gould was not in the schedule but the day was looking to be a good one and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky so might as well climb it, you know? On our way up the final switchbacks to the Pass we were gifted with fantastic views of Big Pothole Lake, which was mostly frozen over. I'll admit that a part of me wanted to boot ski down the slope to the lake and goof around on the ice...but I thought better. We made it to the Pass, stopping to chat with a handful of JMTer's who were heading into town. One of them was wearing these 2inch synthetic neon shorts with ducks on em. We complimented his shorts and he was very grateful. 

We took a ten minute break. I asked Grace if she felt good and she said yes and I asked if she wanted to climb Gould and she said yes and then I said something like "okay!" and we started the climb. I had summited Gould the previous year with Liam and had learned that it's actually a pretty straightforward climb. There's a well defined use trail from the Pass that leads all the way to the summit block, which requires a class three move. It's an easy peak to climb for the inexperienced, which is great because inexperienced is my middle name. 

Climbing Gould, University Peak in the background

It was a lot easier climbing Gould this time around, probably because we took our time. The altitude was definitely present but it never made us feel queasy or dizzy or whatnot. We took a lot of breaks, stopping to take in the incredible views of the Owens Valley to the east and the Great Western Divide to the west. We made it to the bottom of the false summit and took one last break before the final bit of the climb. Grace decided to call it quits there. I told her that the true summit was quite literally just behind the false summit, barely even 200 meters away. She said she was good and that ending there was just fine with her so I said something like "okay!" and continued on my merry way. I weaved around the false summit and got my first good view of Gould.

Mt Gould

I stuck to the left of the summit and then turned right and carefully scrambled up the class three blocks to the top. I signed the register, noticing that a lot of people who climb this peak do it in tandem with Dragon Peak which lays a little ways to the north. Ain't no way am I doing that, at least for a while. The route to Dragon Peak from the summit of Gould looks extremely intimidating. No thank you. Imma stick to the easy stuff for now. 

I didn't stay too long on the summit. I climbed back down, met up with Grace and then the two of us kinda just sauntered back down to Kearsarge Pass. Going down Gould was much easier than going up, and as soon as we hit the pass it was smooth sailing all the way back to the parking lot. We saw a lot more people as we walked down the trail. Seemed like a lot of people enjoyed getting a late start that day. We made it to the car and then hit the road back home. It was an absolutely fantastic day. Always great to accomplish more than what you originally set out to do. 

Big Pothole Lake

Cirque Peak and Environs

A week after climbing Gould, on the 14th, I asked Grace if she wanted to join me on an adventure up to Cirque Peak. She told me that she had got her fill of the high Sierra so I said something like "okay!" and went at it alone, driving up the 395 to Horseshoe Meadow in solitude. Like Onion Valley, this parking lot was also quite full but I luckily managed to nab a spot a few feet from the trailhead. 

It was freezin' in the morning. I waited until the sun had risen a little bit before heading out. All was quiet in the parking lot, not a soul was about.  I geared up and race walked down the trail, trying to get the blood pumping. At the meadow I heard a pack of coyotes yipping and yowling some ways off. I never saw them. In fact, I saw nothing that morning. No animals, no people. It was just quiet, cold walking. The switchbacks up to Cottonwood Pass helped warm me up a bit and before long I was at the top of the Pass shedding layers and preparing to climb the first peak of the day: Trailmaster Peak. 

Cottonwood Pass

Trailmaster Peak, from Cottonwood Pass

After taking a short breather at the Pass I continued along the trail. Not too much later I left the trail and started zig zaggin' up to the peak. I never found a use trail but there were a few cairns that I assumed marked the "easiest" way to the summit. Frankly, every possible route looked the same, all of it being class one. I thought the cairns unnecessary as it was quite obvious, even to a dullard like me, where to proceed. I trucked on up through the boulders and eventually gained the summit ridge. 

Chicken Spring Lake

From the summit ridge I was gifted with a nice view of Chicken Spring Lake, which looked a lot more full than when I saw it last year. I saw two little neon tents near the camping area by the lake. No one was out and about. I followed the rocky ridge the rest of the way to the summit, sometimes straying to the right when things got a little too spicy. 

The Summit

Horseshoe Meadow and such

On the summit

I never found a register at the top but, then again, I wasn't lookin' for one. Trailmaster Peak was a bonus for the day as the main objective was Cirque Peak, which was clearly visible from the summit. It was a tad chilly at the top so I put on the ol' sweater and made my way off the summit towards Cirque Peak. 

Cirque Peak on the right

The walk from Trailmaster to Cirque was surprisingly pleasant as I soon discovered that it was relatively flat. I would say that it was kind of like walking on the moon given how empty and rocky and dry the terrain was but I won't. Why? I saw a few yellow and pink flowers hiding in the cracks between the rocks and last time I checked there are no flowers on the moon so making the comparison is quiet silly, you know? Plus I was breathin' just fine and I know there ain't no oxygen on the moon either so there you go. I walked around peak 12525 and got a good look at Cirque, scanning the south face for the easiest route to the summit. 

Walking on the moon

Cirque Peak, Mt. Langley to the right

I made it to the base of the summit and felt a little disheartened as I looked up at the peak. It looked steeper than a bill at a fancy restaurant. I took a break, drank some water, and began the inevitable slog. Walking up this peak was about as hard as walking up the final rock hop of Whitney in terms of aerobic exertion, despite the fact that this peak is several thousand feet lower in elevation. I was huffin' and puffin', feeling like I was sprinting at full speed even though I was just walking. But no matter. Like I always say, puttin' one foot in front of the other got me to the summit sooner enough. 

I found the register and signed my name. I discovered that this was a fairly popular peak; the last person summited just two days prior. I hung around at the top for a little bit, enjoying the views of Mount Langley and Mount McAdie to the North, the Kaweahs to the west, Olancha Peak to the south, the several Cottonwood Lakes and Owens Valley to the east. I could not see the summit of Whitney as it was obscured in clouds. 

View West(ish)

View East

View North

I hung around for a bit until it started getting cloudy and cold and then I knew that it was time to go. On my way back towards Chicken Spring I decided to take a different route, this time moving around Peak 12525 to the west. This would create a bit of a loop and would save me the trouble of navigating around Trailmaster Peak. 

Heading back, view South(ish)

As I was walking along I looked up at Peak 12525 and debated whether or not I should climb it. It was, after all, "right there!" and after thinking it over I said something like "okay!" (despite the fact that no one was around to hear it) and made for the summit.

Peak 12525

The going was easy until it wasn't. The summit blocks were particularly tricky and after scoping around for a bit it seemed like there was nothing easier than class 5 up to the summit. I picked the easiest looking group of boulders with the least amount of exposure and cautiously made my way to the top. When I got to the top I realized that I wasn't actually on the true summit, which was about 50ft to the north. I could of rock hopped over there but that was a bit too sketchy for my taste. I stayed were I was, enjoying the same views that I'd seen all day. 

I made it off Peak 12525 without issue. The area around the peak has some very interesting rock formations so I took a little time to explore and goof around. After having my fill I steadied my course and made a bee line to Chicken Spring.

Chicken Spring Lake, Trailmaster Peak on the left

I found a descent chute that looked like it dumped out on Chicken Spring so I boot skied down that and I was on my way. I walked around the east side of the lake, trying to remember where the water level was last year. I noticed some boulders that I recall leaning on that were almost completely submerged in water. I poked around the camping areas and found nobody. The two neon tents that I had spotted that morning were gone. I hadn't seen anyone all day, which was surprising given the popularity of the area. 

The Chute

I left the lake and hit the PCT and from there it was smooth sailing all the way back to the parking lot. As soon as I got back on the trail I saw people. Then I saw more people. Then I saw a whole group of people wheezing their way up the switchbacks to Cottonwood Pass. Like Onion Valley, it appeared that people enjoyed getting a late start that day. 

The PCT

I made it back to the parking lot in good time. On the drive back I stopped along the road and kinda just sat and stared at Owens Lake for a while. I ain't never seen it full, and I'm fairly sure that most people (before the biblical rains earlier this year) haven't seen it full either. When Grace and I drove back from Onion Valley we saw it along the side of the highway but couldn't take in the scale. But sitting on the road, way up in the mountains, I could see the lake in its entirety, just one big turquoise reflecting pool. It was a neat way to end a neat trip, and I couldn't have asked for better weather. September in the Sierra. There ain't nothin' like it.

Chief Peak, The Long Way

When a heat warning's issued, there's only one logical thing to do. And that's to go on a 20+ mile hike up to good ol' Chief Peak. Start at Gridley, hit the ridge road, and then truck on up to the summit. Easy route. Good trail. Lots of walking. We arrived at the trailhead at 7:20am, our packs heavy with water. In fact, that's about all that was in 'em. Hiking in the heat is no joke. Gotta bring more than you think you need. 

The early morning air already had a bit of a bite to it. From it we could tell that it was definitely gonna be a hot one. By the time we made it to the avocado orchards—not even a mile in— some of us were already dripping with sweat. The sun hadn't even been out for an hour and it was already making its presence felt. We moved along, talking and shuffling, enjoying the shaded canyons that the sun hadn't touched yet. Liam and Diego set a brisk pace while Marco and I kinda just sauntered along, taking in the sights and smells of the crispy morning. We found several white mushrooms growing in the brush along the trail. Marco believed them to be puffballs. They looked tasty, but we weren't gonna take no chances. Before long we caught back up to Liam and Diego and took our first break of the day at Gridley Springs.

After the break we continued up the trail, this time a little slower. We could see Chief Peak, and boy did it look far. A little bit of doubt leeched its way into the back of my mind but I ignored it and kept on walking. So far the heat wasn't so bad, but I knew that it would get far worse. When we hit the switchbacks our pace slowed significantly and we took more frequent breaks. So far we had seen only three people on the trail, one of whom was heading back down. The others were on electric mountain bikes. 

We reached the top of the switchbacks and from there could see the entirety of what we had left to walk. Chief Peak didn't appear any closer, and the ridge just looked long, hot, and shadeless. Nevertheless, we made it to the ridge road in just under 2½ hours, taking a long break in the dwindling shade. 

Road miles are easy miles, but for some reason they always suck. Don't know why. That's just how they be, you know? And like I've said before, the only way to do them is to just put your head down and keep truckin'. And that's what we did. The section of road between the Gridley Trail and the Howard Creek Trail is steep, mostly shadeless, and in the summer—very hot. After battling the switchbacks, we did not welcome this section of road. But we walked it anyways, enjoying the occasional gust of cool wind. 

Just after passing the junction with the Howard Creek Trail, Liam made the smart decision to call it quits. Told us he'd wait for us there in the shade of some pines. I admired the decision. It seems like a lot of people put the goal of summiting above everything else, that it's the most important thing. And then they use up all their energy trying to summit and then suddenly remember that they have to climb back down. So it's smart to recognize your limits and call it quits when you need to, lest you desire excessive suffering. I find it best when hikin' to remember this bit of advice: the summit is optional, but the descent is mandatory. We waved goodbye to Liam and continued up the ridge. 

The day was absolutely gorgeous. Definitely much better clarity than the last time we climbed Chief Peak. We kept on trucking, keeping conversation light, stopping every once in a while to take pictures of the views. As we were getting closer to our goal I began to feel more and more confident that we would actually make it. And though it was hot, it wasn't nearly as hot as I'd expected it to be. Plus the breeze was still cool which is always a good sign. We made it to the junction where the road splits off towards Rose Valley. We took a quick break there, admiring the brand new mileage sign. 

The long miles disappeared under our feet. We kept on walkin' and walkin' and walkin'. One time we stopped so Diego and Marco could roll a small boulder off the side of the road. Wanted to see how far it would roll. They wanted to roll another but I mentioned we should save it for the way back. We were gonna need our energy for the climb.

Summit is on the left

Not long after, we made it to the base of the peak. We would first have to climb the false summit. This proved to be the most difficult part of the whole day. It's just up and up and up, with some loose rocks and no switchbacks. By the time I got to the top of this section my legs were on fire. Marco looked winded. Diego looked about done. It was there where Diego called it quits. His legs had been giving him a hard time and decided that the summit wouldn't be worth it. Marco and I continued on, topping out on the false summit and getting a good look of the last bit of the climb.

Our route

We followed the well worn and easy to follow use trail all the way to the base of the rocky part of the summit. From there it's kind of a "choose your own adventure." I decided to take a fun way that involved some minor scrambling. After the scramble its a simple boulder hop to the summit. With a hop and a skip and a jump and a slip we made it to the top in just under 5½ hours. 

Top of the scramble

The Summit. Woo Hoo!

There was a stillness at the summit, not even the gentlest of breezes. Butterflies and bumblebees and gnats were the most noticeable inhabitants. The views stretched off for miles. It was a good day, and on a good day like that Chief Peak was the place to be. Before I had climbed the Bluff and Old Man Mountain, Chief Peak was my go-to spot for impeccable views. And if you've been lucky enough to have been up there, you know what I'm talking about. The whole Ojai Valley is stretched out to the south, the ocean and the islands visible in the background. The Oxnard Plain is visible, as well as the distant Santa Monica Mountains. To the east you can see the Topa Topa Bluffs, as well as Hines Peak and Cobblestone Mountain. To the north is the Sespe Wilderness, with Thorn Point and Reyes Peak taking up much of the view as well as Piedra Blanca. As we were sitting on the summit we looked west and saw the Gridley Trail, a microscopic line etched into the side of the mountains. We still had a long way to go. After spending 18 minutes on the summit we packed up, said our goodbyes, and started our descent. 

View East

View North, into the Sespe Wilderness

View West, from whence we came

Climbing down the scramble

We found Diego napping by sandstone boulders. Asked him if he was ready to go. He was, though his legs were still sore. We took a few more pictures of the area and then began our long walk back towards the Howard Creek Junction where we would meet up with Liam. 

Ready to go

We eventually got to the spot where that boulder was waiting to be rolled. Diego and Marco picked it up, heaved it over the side of the road, and watched it tumble a good 100ft before coming to a stop. I don't know what it is, but there's just something about rolling boulders off the sides of mountains that really makes you happy. With our spirits raised, we trucked onwards, not even noticing the long miles or the increasing temperature.

To our surprise, Liam actually met us just after the junction where the road spilts off towards Rose Valley. Told us that he was feeling better and that he was gettin' real bored just sitting there. With our group finally whole, we steamrolled down the sharp grade of the ridge road all the way to back to Gridley, letting gravity do most of the work for us. 

Nordhoff Peak center right

We took a long break before heading down Gridley, laying in whatever shade we could find. It was hot now, and all of us looked as if we had jumped in a swimming pool. Though the rest of the day would be downhill, we knew that it would only get hotter the farther we went. We hadn't seen a soul since morning, which made perfect sense. Who in their right mind would be out walkin' in this stupid heat? We put on our packs, downed some Liquid IV, and trucked on down the trail, looking forward to dunking our heads in the cool water of the horse trough at Gridley Springs.

Keeping a steady pace and putting one foot in front of the other got us there sooner enough. The sun seemed angry. Seemed like it was mad at us for going on this hike. Seemed angered by the fact that its heat wasn't killin' us. Seemed angry that we were actually enjoying ourselves. And the angrier it got the hotter it became. It felt like each of us was wrapped up in a big ol' quilt walking down that trail. Nice and warm and cozy. It absolutely sucked. But I said it was relaxing just to spite the sun. Can't let the sun get you down. Can't let it get in your head. Gotta mess with it. 

The horse trough was a welcome sight. We spent a long time there, dunking our heads and enjoying the shade. We were nearly done with our day. Just had a little bit more to go. 

Back in the orchards

Those last few miles from the trough to the trailhead seemed to be especially long. No one was on the trail, even by the orchards. Near the trailhead we saw one guy on a mountain bike and that was that. We jogged the last few hundred feet, finishing the whole ordeal in 10 hours and 16 minutes. It was a long day in the sun, a day made more enjoyable by good views and good company. This route sure ain't the fastest nor easiest way up to Chief Peak, but it sure is awesome.