Quick Stats: 11.4 Miles & 1,856′ gain via the Cottonwood Lakes Trail from Horseshoe Meadow Road. (11,030′ Elevation at Turnaround)
It’s been a long time since I’ve had a solo adventure, and I am someone that very much needs her alone time; so when Frankie recommended I take some time for a solo trip the mountains on this particular weekend, I pounced at the opportunity.
As it came closer to the trip there became a big issue: The first major snowstorm was hitting the Sierra Nevada the days before my trip. I came up with multiple itineraries and watched the weather forecast like a hawk the week leading up to my trip, and the day before I left I settled on a trip starting off of Horseshoe Meadow Road. My main objective was Cirque Peak, and I would hit a few other small objectives over the course of 3 days. The forecast for the day was mostly sunny with a high of 33°F and a low of 7°F (-10°F wind chill factor) and 24 MPH winds from the NW that could gust as high as 39 MPH; winds that would shift to W / NW over the course of the night. The next two days would be sunny, frigid, and windy.
I pulled into the Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead parking area and was surprised at how much snow was on the ground. It was frigid, windy, and I couldn’t be more stoked for this trip. I put on my brand new La Sportiva G2s, got my gear ready, and was off on my way.
I wasn’t far along on the trail when I started to notice some spindrift heading my way from two different snow storms to the West and North of me. . . and not long after I found those very storms on top of me.
Winter mountaineering is my favorite thing, so I was just out there living my best life with everything I would need for a 3 days trip on my back. The trek in was easy– relatively level, not much depth in the snowpack, and a pretty solid bootpack in the pretty fresh snow. Along the way I ran into a group of men that were partly responsible for those steps. They had just finished a day trek out to the Cottonwood Lakes, and were amazed to find me on my way out to an overnight trip.
When the trail split off toward New Army Pass is where I found myself in totally fresh powder. The snowfall totals in the forecast kept being revised, but at last check I was expecting about a foot of snow. There was more than that. Breaking trail on my way toward the lakes was a new experience for me, but definitely a lot of fun.
As the sun sagged lower in the sky and the rays no longer made it to me, the temperature plummeted. Perfect timing for me to be setting camp, which is what I was now doing. My original plan was to set camp at Long Lake, but I felt like there would be better opportunities to set camp at Cottonwood Lakes #2 (nearby Long Lake).
I found a nice spot with some natural protection to the West and Northwest in the form of boulders and trees which made it easy to set my camp– with the natural windbreak protecting me from the wind I had an easy time pitching my tent, anchoring it out with rocks, and then settling in.
After melting snow for water, putting “warm teddy bears” in my sleeping bag, eating a nice warm meal, and enjoying my hot cocoa, it was time to tuck myself in. The sun had just fully set, and I was definitely ready for bed.
I could hear the high winds around me, but the air where my tent lived was totally stagnant. I was warm in my sleeping bag, and thought to myself that this may be the best sleep I get on a winter adventure.
I was wrong.
About 2 hours later I was woken up when my tent started to lift off of the ground. I stayed put as I tried to get my wits about me– my tent was getting absolutely pummeled by the high winds. I wasn’t dealing with W / NW winds; I wasn’t dealing with 25 MPH winds with 39 MPH gusts. . . These were winds coming at me from the East and Southwest, and were almost sustained at that 39 MPH (or higher) speed. At the time I had no idea what had happened and how my tent had become unanchored, but in retrospect I think I have it sorted out:
The winds shifted and started blowing from the East which is the direction my vestibule was facing. I had anchored the guy out points with rocks but didn’t put rocks on the spindrift flap of my vestibule, which meant the gusty winds got underneath and in between the fly and the tent which end up knocking the rocks around that were anchoring my tent down. As this happened more and more (from the opposite direction as well), it ended up making my tent not so secure, and then I woke up. I laid there for about 20 minutes contemplating what to do and considering scenarios. If I can manage to sleep through the night maybe I’ll leave in the morning? Maybe I’ll keep on with my itinerary; but will my tent stay put in the winds while I’m gone all day (with no gear or person in there weighing it down)? Would I be able to trek out after a long day of peakbagging in the event my tent blew away? Maybe I’ll leave now? Maybe I’ll move camp tonight? Being without shelter in this sort of weather didn’t seem too safe, so my priority was making sure that whatever decision I made would ensure that I would be doing my best to save my tent and / or making my way to solid shelter this evening.
Before I could do much I needed improvise a way to secure my tent better. The fly was starting to lift from the frame, so I ended up opening a hatch in the top of my tent and tying some cord through a loop on the fly, around the poles, and securing that to the inside of my tent. I then spent about 10 or 15 minutes attempting to re-anchor the tent without leaving it, but it was a Sisyphisian task– by the time I’d get one end of my tent secure the other end would be lifting again, and then vice versa. I decided it was time to go.
I was going to do my best to pack up my tent, and then ideally move to a more sheltered area at a lower elevation; and if that didn’t exist I would scrub the trip altogether. I managed to get everything repacked using mostly one hand: I pulled the vestibule toward the tent and put my pack on top of it to try and help anchor it down (and prevent too much spindrift from getting into the tent); during particularly strong gusts I reached through the top of the tent to literally hold the tent in place to minimize how much I was getting rocked around. Finally when it came time to do the tent I jumped out into the storm and put my pack on to the flapping vestibule and immediately starting collapsing the poles. With the tent flattened I put some rocks on top of it while I stowed the poles and then stuffed the tent into my pack.
I was wearing basically everything in my personal kit to stay warm in the cold: Thick wool socks over sock liners in my double boots; 260 weight base layer bottoms with my soft shell pants and hard shell pants over those; 260 weight base layer top with my fleece over there, covered by my lined soft shell jacket and my puffy over that; glove liners with medium weight gloves (and my “chonky gloves” on standby); wool buff; wool liner beanie with my thicker beanie over that. I was about to start my journey out when my headlamp flickered. Lucky for me I have extra batteries, but the cold weather does a number on the battery life of my headlamp. With fresh batteries in my headlamp I started back toward Alyx while being buffeted by wind coming from multiple directions as the winds whipped all around me. I decided shortly thereafter there’s no way I’d be finding a better place to set a camp at 11 PM– my goal was to just get out of there.
I was about halfway back to Alyx when my headlamp dimmed, so I switched it from the spot to the low powered flood mode to try and conserve battery power– I only brought one set of spare batteries so I’d be in real trouble if my headlamp died (again).
I followed my tracks all the way out on a snow hike that was fun and adventurous hours ago, yet now seemed tedious and annoying. Not paying attention to where I was, I eventually happened on the backside of some signs and realized I must be at the trailhead. I paused to unlock Alyx to find her in the chaos, and her lights blinking helped me breathe a deep sigh of relief. After getting everything situated I was sitting in Alyx warming up deciding what’s next? I thought about trying to do something else as a day trip and then ultimately decided that I was done. This was my first adventure of this winter climbing season; there would be many more, and I still had plenty of fun even if it ended up only being a 10 hour adventure.