Quick Stats: 17.6 Miles & 7,379′ gain via South Ridge from Onion Valley Trailhead.
I feel like I’ve started a lot of posts lately with some statement about how this is the most dangerous thing I’ve done. . .
It’s true though, and Dragon Peak absolutely takes that prize. For now. It also takes home the prize for my favorite mountain to climb. This may also be my favorite of all of my adventures:
I was originally going to take a 3 day solo trip to the Golden Trout Lakes area of the John Muir Wilderness in order to climb Dragon Peak, Kearsarage Peak, and maybe University Peak. Coming home from my previous week’s adventure to Mount Rixford I decided that I wanted to make it a 2 day trip so I could go to a concert with friends and possibly my girlfriend Frankie. I also decided to make it a dirtbag trip so I would climb Dragon Peak one day; sleep in my car at the trailhead; and then the next day climb University Peak (and maybe Independence Peak for fun). Then Frankie realized it would work with her schedule. The itinerary for my dirtbag trip would be the same; just now with company.
We enjoyed the Ezra Furman concert the night before, enjoyed a little more to drink than we should have considering we would be mountaineering the next day, and then got up the next morning around for our trip to Onion Valley feeling a little less than stellar.
We left the trailhead around noon and were making our way up the trail when very early on things seemed amiss. I was moving a little slower than normal (My body doesn’t like having to perform the day after I drink), and Frankie was dealing with some rough bouts of stomach issues likely caused by the altitude; but it doesn’t help that we both woke up with some level of a hangover that morning.
Nevertheless, we continued onward, following the Golden Trout Lake Trail all the way up the creek, past the marsh where the approach to Dragon Peak branches off from the Golden Trout Lake Trail, and up to the first of the unnamed lakes that lie immediately East of Dragon Peak. Along the way we would find a few snowfields along the route that were pretty decently consolidated. We would also stumble upon some brief patches of rotten snow, but overall there wasn’t much of it to this point.
When we set our packs down for a break at the first lake, Frankie decided that her adventure for the day needed to end there.
Concerned about her pace and the threat posed by AMS, she encouraged me to press on while she would wait by the lake. I have an issue with this, though. . . I’m always of the opinion that a team should stay together. Of course as a thru hiker Frankie is more than competent at staying safe, being able to navigate, etc. . . I just have the mentality that starting together means we stick together, we summit together, and we return together.
She has told me all along that she doesn’t want this to be the case if I have goals that she’s unable to keep up with while we’re out. We agreed that I would continue on, and we would come back the next day to climb it together. I made a joke about how maybe I’d make it all the way to the infamous traverse and then turn back, bringing back valuable beta about the route along the way but saving the summit for us. Frankie assured me that I not only could summit without her. . . but that I should. I agreed, but immediately after leaving decided on my own goal: I would make it as close to Dragon Pass as I possible to get trail beta, and then turn back with the goal of getting back to Frankie at the lake by 5:30 PM.
The first lake’s water level was so low that making my way toward Dragon Peak’s Eastern facing gully I was walking through a dry lake bed. I made my way around the South of the first lake, and then up the snow to get a feel for conditions. There were long stretches of decent snow quality followed by sections of rotten snow. (Someday I would love to learn specifically how this happens in the same alpine snowfield.) I tried to keep in mind the time of day, but was being willfully erratic in choosing my line up because I wanted to test a lot of different options today– that would mean I could piece all of that together and find the safest, most efficient, and most fun line for Frankie and I to follow the next day. I was scrambling in different sections on both Climber’s Left and Climber’s Right of the gully; I was testing out different lines up the snow to test the quality; and as I got closer to Dragon Pass I wanted to get an idea of where exactly we would be headed to gain the ridge. I finally got to a place where I felt like I had enough beta to confirm that we could climb this tomorrow, and that I knew a great line up.
I decided to also test the descent while I was here. I put on my hardshell jacket and pants, my medium weight gloves, plopped down on my bum and proceeded to glissade almost the entire way down the gully. When I got to the base of the route, I decided to go around the north side of the second lake to see if that would be a better way to take on the approach (compared to the rotten snow and light scrambling on the south side).
Meanwhile at the lake, Frankie took a nap on the shore (and felt great afterward), scrambled around on rocks in the area to get used to scrambling in mountaineering boots, and took in the views afforded to her by the beautiful Eastern Sierra Nevada.
We’re going to take a break here to talk about how bad ass Frankie is. We met in April and hit it off immediately. She is a thru hiker and had listed on her dating profile: “You know how a lot of people on dating apps say they enjoy hiking, but come to find out they consider a hike a stroll through the park? I’m the opposite of that. Let’s have an adventure, I’m tired of going alone.” Never thought I’d find such a perfect match on Bumble, but there I was on the approach to Dragon Peak with her.
Mountaineering is something Frankie said interested her, but wasn’t really on her mind as a priority. Then she met me. Not only is she getting pulled into a world of ice axes and summits, but she has also decided to be just as Leeroy Jenkins as I am. I took her on her first adventure that involved 3rd class scrambling not long ago, and she followed my up the Brielle Danger Lines™ to the summit of Strawberry Peak, making a simple 3rd class climb a 4th class adventure with a bit of exposure. Now just 3 weeks later she was joining me on a climb of one of the most notorious scrambling routes in the High Sierra, to a summit with so few visitors that the previous year has only seen a couple entries in the summit register.
At the lake I told Frankie about the conditions, stripped off my layers, and we decided we were “Go” for an attempt tomorrow. I was a little concerned that Frankie would have been annoyed (or anxious or impatient or something) at having waited for me by the lake for a couple hours, but it turns out she had a great time enjoying her time at the lake, just as I had an absolute blast climbing. This led Frankie to recognize that maybe sometimes my itineraries are a little bananas, and that she would be happy setting camp for us while I run off on a secondary objective if she’s not feeling it. Seems we’re an even better fit as partners than we originally thought when the adventure began.
We retraced our steps and made it back to the trailhead to Alyx where we had planned to dirtbag for the night before beginning my 3rd attempt at Dragon Peak.
For the uninitiated, dirtbagging is living out of / sleeping out of your car (or vehicle in general) as part of the outdoor lifestyle. Frankie and I are both in on dirtbagging, both as a part of adventures but possibly as a long term lifestyle.
With the seats folded down Alyx can sleep two, so we laid out sleeping pads, got cozy, and enjoyed a warm dinner as the sun set on the first day of our trip. Of the two of us, one of us has a very bad kitty that likes to get into trouble and ruin things. . . Because of this bad kitty, one of us didn’t stage her sleeping bag by the door with the rest of her gear and ended up forgetting it. That someone was me, but Frankie was nice enough to let me share her quilt. We would sleep in some layers and use the quilt to keep our lower bodies warm overnight, which was forecast to be 39°F where we were.
Forecasts can often be inaccurate in the mountains, and this was no exception. When we started the car in the morning to warm up from a pretty cold night, we learned it was 28°F out at that moment. It became clear that it was cold enough for condensation to freeze to the surfaces inside the car, which then started dripping all over us from the roof as the car warmed and the ice melted.
Even if you don’t have to melt snow for water, alpine starts in below freezing temps take longer than normal, so by the time we were leaving Alyx dawn was breaking.
In a lot of sections the route branches off in different directions that will all lead you to the mountain, but we knew the approach pretty well from the day before and were able to make it more efficient. This sort of thing has been a topic of conversation between Frankie and I– the differences between thru hiking and mountaineering. With thru hiking you’re staying on a trail that she describes as maintained enough to be able to follow without too much difficulty. When it comes to mountaineering you’re staying on a “route” which may follow maintained trails, unmaintained trails, “open country” travel, scrambling, snow climbing, etc. Routes can then be subdivided into the approach and the route proper (“route proper” isn’t really a thing, but I’ve heard some people use it to distinguish it from “route” in a general sense, so I’m using it here); which can then be divided further by the “line” you take. In the case of the approach, there may even be multiple options.
As an example for Dragon Peak, this whole route is called the South Ridge, or it may be more specifically referred to as “South Ridge via South Chute” to help distinguish it from a different approach (such as “South Ridge via Mount Gould”). The route proper is the base of the gully that opens up to the upper unnamed lake, which is how you get to the South Chute. The approach is the path you take to get to the base of the route proper, which for Dragon Peak is the Golden Trout Lake Trail to where it branches off to the North to get to the two unnamed lakes following patches of a “use trail” and open country travel. Going up the gully to the South Chute you can take whatever “line” you want which is pretty self explanatory. Oftentimes a route description will detail the typical line to follow, but you can always make your own.
This is one example that I wanted to explain in detail, but we’ve come up with a lot of these little differences between our lifestyles that are learning experiences for both of us.
I digress. We made our way to the first of the two lakes and Frankie was feeling way better than the day before.
We took an extended break here and actually ran into two people that had camped nearby overnight. They were planning to climb Kearsarge Peak via Lily Pass, and wished us luck on our adventure to Dragon Peak.
Then we were off making our way toward the second unnamed lake, each step a new altitude record for us as a couple. We found ourselves at the base of the route with some really decent snow conditions, and it was now time to teach Frankie how to size, wear, and travel in crampons. (Remember how I said she’s a bad ass? Yeah– she had never snow climbed before.)
We made our way up the first section of snow and then it flattened out– perfect opportunity for the next chapter in what I was referring to as “Snow School.” We took the crampons off to practice self arrest and glissade, and then put them back on to continue our snow climb. After a bit Frankie let me know that this was taking a lot of energy, which is definitely the case– snow climbing is hard, and snow travel is slow travel. She also let me in on one of those thru hiking sayings: 1 lb. on your feet is equal to 5 lbs. on your back. Considering your average pair of universal crampons weigh about 2 lbs. or so, that’s a lot for someone that is normally trying to travel as light as possible.
From here I led us to some 2nd and 3rd class terrain since that would likely take less energy in the long run, while also being a pleasant break from the snow climb. We took off our crampons and stowed them for the rest of the adventure since the snow quality was in a sweet spot where they would be more of a hindrance than a help.
We then continued up on the rock and would occasionally venture out into the vast snow field with our ice axes and boots, only to reach another patch of rotten snow and return to the rocks. We were getting close to Dragon Pass when I decided to scramble ahead and get an idea of which way the route goes from there. This would be a pretty common thing for the rest of the adventure as I have a lot more experience than Frankie (this being her first legit mountaineering adventure). I found the South Chute, and saw the chockstone that Secor describes in his book. I started to take items out of my pack to create a gear cache so that we could travel lighter on the way the summit.
When Frankie caught up with me, we decided to cache her entire pack with the exception of her puffy and Garmin– the Garmin would be clipped to her and the puffy went into my stripped down pack. Next up was the South Chute to gain the South Ridge. Secor describes it as a “chimney with an awkward class 3 move over the right side of a chockstone.” It was definitely awkward, but not too difficult. As soon as I got on top of it I had a brief thought that I hadn’t been too conscious of how I would get down, essentially breaking my rule to never climb something I couldn’t do both up and down. We’d figure it out later I guess.
Frankie ended up going underneath and through the chockstone to get up, and from there it was some simple 3rd class moves to gain the ridge. This is part of what made this adventure one of my favorites, and why Dragon Peak is my favorite climb. 3rd and 4th class scrambling is my favorite, and I love it even more when it’s a ridge line scramble. There are sections where you can bypass the ridge and do some 2nd class scrambling, or you can stay pretty high on top of it for an absolutely epic scrambling experience. On the way up, this is what we opted for.
There are a lot of gendarmes (rock towers) along the ridge, and I kept trying to get a bearing on which was the “Summit Gendarme” of Dragon Peak. I checked the GPS on my phone, but what it was pointing me to lacked any sort of exposed traverse, and was shorter than everything else. I checked the Garmin, and it told me the summit was where there was literally nothing but a cliff to my west. We scrambled further, but I was getting more and more discouraged. I was having the time of my life scrambling on this ridge, but had started to tell myself that I would be okay summiting if I literally couldn’t figure out where the summit was. (Part of what made this difficult was that we were staying pretty high on the ridge, so cairns marking the way were along a different line that would be more apparent later.)
Eventually I pointed to a notch between Dragon Peak’s South ridge and an unnamed gendarme and told Frankie to scramble to that point while I went ahead to find Dragon Peak. I left my pack there so I could move quicker on my. I caught a glimpse of what looked like it could be the summit, and eventually happened on two cairns to help confirm I was on the right track. I scrambled up to what I would learn is the start of the infamous traverse, and quickly made my way back down to let Frankie know that I had found it.
I grabbed my pack from the notch and then continued back up to the traverse. When Frankie scrambled up and met me there, it was go time. Photos and videos of scrambling always make things look worse than I feel they are, and this was no exception. The traverse ends mere feet from the summit, but from the time of my first attempt until now I’ve always accepted that this just may finally be something too dicey for me, and I could end up turning back from just below the summit.
I found the traverse easy and exhilarating. The ledge is pretty solid for your feet, and even though Secor says there are no handholds, there are actually quite a few places to get a good crimp, and also a couple of juggy holds. In addition to that, you can sort of lean into the mountain to help you feel more secure. Once I was across, it was time for Frankie. From there it wasn’t long until we were on top of our first alpine summit together.
Just like many summits in the High Sierra, Dragon Peak offered 5G cell network. I updated Instagram while Frankie made some FaceTime calls, and then we signed the summit register before taking in the view from almost 13,000′.
We didn’t stay long because it was very late in the day, and we were both eager to be done with the “sketchy shit,” which really was almost the entire route back down to the lake. Making our way across the traverse for the descent was a little different– it definitely feels a bit more challenging on the way down. When I got across, it was then Frankie’s turn, and I got an opportunity to snap this:
Immediately after taking that photo, though, Frankie wasn’t feeling too great about the traverse. This was her first time wearing mountaineering boots, which meant this was her first time scrambling in them, and also her first time doing exposed 4th class scrambling in them. Frankie reached a point where she was struggling with where to put her foot next because she couldn’t get a feel for the rock; definitely something you have to get used to wearing such chonky boots. I told her to stay put, and made my way out onto the ledge to help her. I helped guide her foot, advised her where the next hold was, and did this with each move as we made our way across the traverse together. One down, a ridiculous amount more to go in terms of being done with the “sketchy shit.”
We then continued down the ridge to the notch, where we could then bypass some sections of the ridge in an effort to save time and energy. At this point we both had breakfast and a couple of snacks, but nothing else. We brought some meals and a stove to cook along the way, but never did. I was definitely feeling the effects of lack of fuel– I normally consume a lot more Calories than I had, and by now we had been on our adventure for going on 10 hours. We continued down the ridge, down to Dragon Pass, and found ourselves back at the top of the South Chute. Frankie slipped through the hole made by the chockstone again, and I lowered the pack to her to make the awkward down climb over the chockstone more manageable. While we made our way down the chute, Frankie asked an all important question: “Does this make me a mountaineer? Have I earned my mountaineer card?”
As the local mountaineering representative, I informed her that she had. In this single day she had the ultimate mountaineering experience: Snow climbing, 3rd class scrambling, exposed 4th class scrambling, etc. In addition, this was her first alpine summit on the day she wore mountaineering boots for the first time. Some people may start with something simple, and here was Frankie climbing something that seasoned mountaineers won’t even attempt to summit.
When we arrived back at our cache we found ourselves in kind of rough shape. At this point my body had done something that I’ve experienced in the past (usually during Spartan Beasts or other really intense activities) where I became so hungry that the idea of food now turned my stomach, putting me in a catch 22 of needing fuel but unable to refuel. I felt like it was better to try and soldier on than try and get past this icky feeling in my stomach. Frankie was in a similar boat and was not in on cooking. After a 20 minute break, we grabbed our gear, pulled out our ice axes, and began the descent. Since the first section had a spooky run out I offered a quick refresher from snow school on plunge stepping and we made our way down past an outcropping of rocks. Then we got to the first of many sections where we could glissade down a steep slope. For having learned how to glissade that day, Frankie was doing it like a pro. After alternating between glissading and plunge stepping, we finally found ourselves back at the lake feeling even more beat down than we had at the base of the South Chute. We agreed that we were both kind of over it. I was starting to feel like a zombie. I was singularly focused on getting back to Alyx, as I knew that getting the boots off and allowing my body to cool down would help settle my stomach and allow me to be me again. I also didn’t have the patience to wait by the lake for my stomach to settle, so on we went.
While we spent the day talking, playing, dancing, and having an absolute blast, the descent from the second lake had all of the energy of a funeral dirge. I was stumbling here and there, we were quiet, and I had to take breaks to allow my heart rate to slow from weird spikes that are outside of my norm. We would eventually find ourselves not far from the fork between the Golden Trout Lake Trail and Kearsarge Pass Trail when our headlamps were required. It’s extremely rare for an adventure to end with a headlamp for me, and it’s even more rare for it to end with a headlamp when my day started with one.
We eventually found ourselves back at Alyx no worse for wear, and when it was all said and done, it was almost 14 hours total car to car. We threw our gear in the back, switched into cozy clothes for our 3 hour drive home, and ended up doing the drive in 3 shifts between us to make sure we would arrive safely at 1 AM back in Los Angeles.
It only took being in the warm car in cozy clothes for about 10 minutes before we became human again, and were immediately gushing about how amazing that adventure was, and how lucky we were to have been able to do it together. While the last 3 hours or so of the adventure were a little rough, overall this is in the running for one of my favorite adventures.
Climb on with love.