toejam
Member
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2014
- Messages
- 83
My Rainier buddy Pryor was in town shortly after our big trip. Being an avid climber from Leadville, CO, he was ready for 14,000' in the high Sierra. We left my place in Pismo Beach alittle after 3:00 a.m., and, after getting lost in Tehachapi, we made it to the Lone Pine Interagency Center a little after 8:00 a.m. We were trying to get a permit for South Fork Big Pine Creek to climb Middle Palisade, but nothing was available close to that. The backup plan was Shepherd Pass, which, not surprisingly, had overnight permits available. At the trailhead.
We headed up the trail in that jazzed, first-day-in-the-mountains manner and quickly chewed up miles and elevation. The trail to Shepherd Pass is ugly, which is to say it’s beautiful but not to the standard of the rest of the Sierra, and enthusiasm goes a long way. Those willing to hike it are usually peak baggers. The trail to Shepherd Pass.
Sitting on a log at Anvil Camp to refuel, we had the good fortune to engage 3 young women in conversation. While I was bragging about rising early at the beach and climbing all the way up there, two of them admitted to being from San Luis Obispo. Turns out one has a blog I follow and the other has backpacked with a friend of mine.
The women were stopping there for the night, but we were trying to act like super hard climbers, so we had to move on. I tried to fool myself into believing that the top of the pass was “a mile; mile and a half.” It was actually a long two miles and another 2000’ of climbing. We set up camp near the lake at the top and the 12,000’ of gain hurt me. The acclimatization from Mt. Rainier three weeks earlier was gone. There was no way I was going to choke down a Mountain House. After crawling in the bag, I had a bad case of Cheyne-Stokes and stopped breathing every time I nodded off. Pryor said, “Yeah, I had that really bad at 17,000’.” After maybe a half hour I finally fell asleep breathing and slept well all night. Camp at Shepherd Pass.
We awoke to alpenglow on Mt. Tyndall and felt ready to climb. We saw the three women heading up as we finished loading our packs. They took the rocky route across the right side of Williamson Bowl, and we took the sandier route to the left. A couple hours later we rested on the moraine below the black stain and saw that we were well ahead of the women. Mt. Williamson across the bowl.
Climbing the chute.
I struggled to keep my head clear while gasping for oxygen. I turned us right into the wrong gully and stupidly pursued it until it became too steep and icy to climb. We gingerly backtracked and Pryor said he heard the women pass by on the correct route. We caught them atthe bottom of the class 3+ chimney leading to the summit ridge. Embarrassed, I didn’t bother taking a break, but started working up the crack. Pryor, not to be outdone, scrambled over the top of me and waited for us on the summit. Jill fell in behind me and hollered back instructions to the other girls.
On top.
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We headed up the trail in that jazzed, first-day-in-the-mountains manner and quickly chewed up miles and elevation. The trail to Shepherd Pass is ugly, which is to say it’s beautiful but not to the standard of the rest of the Sierra, and enthusiasm goes a long way. Those willing to hike it are usually peak baggers. The trail to Shepherd Pass.
Sitting on a log at Anvil Camp to refuel, we had the good fortune to engage 3 young women in conversation. While I was bragging about rising early at the beach and climbing all the way up there, two of them admitted to being from San Luis Obispo. Turns out one has a blog I follow and the other has backpacked with a friend of mine.
The women were stopping there for the night, but we were trying to act like super hard climbers, so we had to move on. I tried to fool myself into believing that the top of the pass was “a mile; mile and a half.” It was actually a long two miles and another 2000’ of climbing. We set up camp near the lake at the top and the 12,000’ of gain hurt me. The acclimatization from Mt. Rainier three weeks earlier was gone. There was no way I was going to choke down a Mountain House. After crawling in the bag, I had a bad case of Cheyne-Stokes and stopped breathing every time I nodded off. Pryor said, “Yeah, I had that really bad at 17,000’.” After maybe a half hour I finally fell asleep breathing and slept well all night. Camp at Shepherd Pass.

We awoke to alpenglow on Mt. Tyndall and felt ready to climb. We saw the three women heading up as we finished loading our packs. They took the rocky route across the right side of Williamson Bowl, and we took the sandier route to the left. A couple hours later we rested on the moraine below the black stain and saw that we were well ahead of the women. Mt. Williamson across the bowl.
Climbing the chute.
I struggled to keep my head clear while gasping for oxygen. I turned us right into the wrong gully and stupidly pursued it until it became too steep and icy to climb. We gingerly backtracked and Pryor said he heard the women pass by on the correct route. We caught them atthe bottom of the class 3+ chimney leading to the summit ridge. Embarrassed, I didn’t bother taking a break, but started working up the crack. Pryor, not to be outdone, scrambled over the top of me and waited for us on the summit. Jill fell in behind me and hollered back instructions to the other girls.

On top.


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