Mount Conness (12,590′ / 5.6 YDS)

Quick Stats: 11.3 Miles & 3,994′ gain via the North Ridge from the Sawmill Walk-in Campground.

Up until now all of my ascents have been non-technical. I’ve climbed on coils twice (both of the mountaineering courses I did), but I’ve never been on a technical route (those were both 3rd class routes). . . and I’ve never led a technical route.

Until now. I did an insane amount of reading about this route to make sure I was more than prepared, and decided that the smarter choice would be to bring more than enough gear than necessary so that we don’t find ourselves in a sticky situation on our first technical ascent. The SuperTopo called for a standard rack, so we brought that. I also brought a healthy amount of alpine draws, some webbing, extra slings, extra rap rings, and my climbing shoes. Armed with all of that, my typical 3-season mountaineering kit, and a 60m rope, Frankie and I were ready for one of the classic Sierra climbs.

Our plan was to ascend via the North Ridge from the Saddlebag Lake Trailhead, and the take the 3rd class East Ridge as a descent route. We parked at the Sawmill Walk-in Campground and got started from Alyx around 4 AM, opting for an uphill road hike to the Saddlebag Lake Trailhead as the start to our journey so that when we finish Alyx would be right there waiting for us. From there we crossed a dam, and then were on the trail heading toward Mount Conness.

The trail is very easy to follow by headlamp for the most part; there are a few parts where it popped in and out, but it was pretty easy to get back on the trail not long after. It wasn’t very long into the journey we required breaks for layers. It being shoulder season, it can be hard to plan your personal kit for an October ascent, but we are the types to be fully prepared for just about anything– the only exception being Frankie only bringing liner and lightweight gloves when a medium weight glove would have been better. She ended up wearing my medium weight, and I managed fine in a pair of lightweight gloves I brought.

Pictured: My mediumweight gloves on Frankie.

At one point it was cold enough that we were hiking in our puffies, which is not something regularly done (especially outside of winter).

Pictured: A couple of warm cuties.

As we made our way further up and he sun began to rose, we finally got our first glimpse of the dying Conness Glacier. It was dead silent as the first rays of light began to hit it, which makes me wonder if it’s still a living glacier or is now a stagnant ice patch. Either way it was a beautiful sight as we basked in the alpenglow.

When we got to the Conness Lakes we followed the use trail toward the saddle that separates North Peak from Conness. As we made our way closer to the start of the North Ridge, the wind picked up in ferocity, and it was not long before we found ourselves actively fighting against the wind and wondering if this was a good idea. We were able to drop to the West side of the ridge at the start of the route proper. The air was cool and stagnant here, and it was the perfect place for a snack, a trip to the business center, and to rope up. I began flaking the rope when suddenly a friendly guy popped over the ridge sharing in our amazement at running into someone else on the mountain.

His name was Bryan, and we quickly became friends. This was also going to be his first technical ascent, but he wasn’t planning on protecting the route at all. He had a rope for the required rappels along the way, but otherwise was planning to climb it solo. He asked if he could tag along with us– Frankie warned him that we might be moving a little slow, but he was okay with that. We were now a part of 3: I was leading with the Kiwi Coils wrapped around me, Frankie was tied in to the rope behind me, and Bryan was following close behind.

We stayed on top of the ridge from the start. The route is listed as a 5.6 on the YDS, but it’s mostly 3rd class (or even 2nd class at points). From the saddle with North Peak to the 1st tower it was some easy 3rd class, but I still utilized some natural protection in spots since I was leading on coils. We ended up following one of Brielle’s Fun Lines™ at the 1st tower which meant the simple walk turned into some exposed downclimbing, but it was worth it.

Living the dream.

From here to the 2nd tower is where you have the opportunity for one of those iconic photos on the North Ridge of Mount Conness; and now that we had a photographer, we took turns taking photos of each other.

Heading toward the 2nd tower the route is still solidly a 3rd class climb, and a lot of fun. At the top of the 2nd tower is where some of the real fun begins. This route calls for 2 rappels unless you like to downclimb exposed 5.6 / 5.8 terrain. We learned along the way that Bryan knew how to rappel in theory but hadn’t done it; so we decided to sandwich him between Frankie and I on the rap so that one of us could be ready with a fireman’s belay if necessary, and the other could be at the top to double check his setup. We found the first rappel station and inspected the setup: Many different slings and webbing that are all different ages (you can tell by the UV damage) with multiple rap rings through different loops. Nothing needed backing up so I climbed down to an exposed ledge, anchored in, and took in my surroundings. I got an excellent view of the Conness Glacier, and could see that it was still alive (for now) with some crevasses gaping open below.

I also took a moment to kick some feet over the ledge because that’s what I do.

We decided Frankie would rappel first and I would go last. She put herself on rappel, lowered down to a ledge, and then tossed the rope out toward the second rappel station in the distance. After Frankie was off rappel it was Bryan’s turn; and then mine.

The first rappel is an awkward sort of affair where you’re not really rappelling straight down– more like across in order to get to the next rappel station. When the three of us were at the second rappel station I opted to go first– I had read in trip reports that it was an “airy” rappel, and I am all about the exposure. After tossing the two ends of rope down and setting up my rappel, I stepped backward into thin air.

Next up was Bryan with me ready for a Fireman’s Belay, and Frankie came down after.

It was getting late in the day, but we were finally getting to the end of the route– now it was for the last bit which follows the west side of the ridge to the summit. Frankie and I decided to short pitch it instead of pitching it out; so with me on lead I climbed ahead until I found a good spot to anchor in and belay her up to me. Bryan would climb up behind or beside her, and we ended up short pitching the route most of the way to the top.

We got to a point where it looked like we were right below the summit. I coiled the rope up and we began scrambling up until we reached a dead end of sorts. I was trying to find a 3rd or 4th class line from this point, but I couldn’t find one. The climbing to get past this point definitely would have been technical, and it definitely would be something that I would want to pitch out and protect. The only issue is there looked to be a lot of runout if I climbed it, and I also wasn’t in the mood to put my climbing shoes on. We opted to rappel down (we jokingly called it the “Secret 3rd Rappel”) a section and then follow a 4th class line up to the top toward the summit. I slung some webbing over a boulder and backed it up with some cord, and then we rappelled down to the clear line we all saw.

Rather than try whipping the rope up to try and get my gear back, I opted to leave it for a future party that might find themselves in a similar situation.

It’s always fun looking back on the route you just climbed.

I then coiled the rope up (again), and made my way up toward the summit behind Frankie and Bryan.

It was around 5:30 PM when we summited, and I was starting to be over it. I have a habit of expecting to be settling in for the night when the sun gets low while mountaineering, and the sun was definitely low. I enjoyed our short time on the summit and loved the views, but I was definitely more focused on putting the rack away and getting ready to start making our way back to Alyx.

The descent route follows the East Ridge, a barely 3rd class ridgeline scramble that I’m now grateful I never made a special trip to the Sierra for. After the brief scramble it’s a hike along a plateau before combinations of brief 3rd class moves and long 2nd class slogs.

As we made our way further down I became more and more withdrawn. Sure I was a bit tired, but I also was questioning why I wasn’t in bed yet. I knew this would be a long day, but it definitely became much longer than I had both anticipated and hoped for. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves in the same situation as earlier: In the pitch black of night. I was getting increasingly frustrated with the end of this adventure– I don’t like downclimbing a route I haven’t climbed; especially not in the dark. On top of that having to deal with silly 2nd class scrambling in the dark over rocks that aren’t always stable, and knowing we were still a few hours away was bothering me. . . and I let it show unfortunately.

While the descent was long, it wasn’t the most difficult with the exception of one section where we did some exposed 3rd / 4th class moves. It looked like we were probably on route according the map, but this section seemed especially sketchy; and it’s entirely possible we were barely off route but didn’t know it because it was dark. We made our way past this last section, and the rest of the adventure was a mix of open country travel and use trails until we got to the well maintained trail that would take us back to the Sawmill Walk-in Campground. We said our goodbye to Bryan after getting his contact information. Then Frankie and I hiked in silence to Alyx where she was patiently waiting for us. We drove down to where we had slept the night before and turned in for the night.

Frankie and I discussed my less than stellar demeanor for the last bit of our adventure; I told her where it’s coming from: In general I don’t like descending in the dark. As I wrote earlier I have a sort of expectation that I’m either finishing an adventure or settling in to camp when it’s getting close to sunset. I’ve definitely had long days like this, but there usually comes a point after hour 14 where my brain just sort of checks out and I decide I’m done– from there I’m simply going through the motions until I can get to my car or shelter.

A takeaway from this adventure is that I need to get rid of that expectation that comes with sundown, and I need to be okay with long days. We’re all a work in progress, right?

Peakbagger (dot) com Entry from 10/14/2022