Quick Stats: 13.5 Miles & 8,288′ gain from a successful ascent of Mount Whitney & an Independence Peak attempt.
Working at REI, Frankie has experienced a weird thing– it comes up a lot that she is a climber and mountaineer, and people immediately ask if she has summited Tumanguya; more commonly known as Mount Whitney.
Sidebar: More often than not I’m going to be referring to “Mount Whitney” by the indigenous name of Tumanguya, which is pronounced “Too-mah-knee-goo-yah.” For the same reason I tend to use Chomolungma for “Mount Everest” and Tahoma for “Mount Rainier;” I think it’s important to respect the indigenous names of mountains when possible.
Now, the interesting part is that Tumanguya’s Mountaineers Route is not a hard climb. It’s actually pretty easy if done over 2 (or more) days, and doing the North Face Traverse (“Easy Walk Off”) rather than the Final 400; and for really athletic people a day trip isn’t that difficult either. Frankie’s first summit in the Sierra was Dragon Peak, a much more difficult climb with a notoriously exposed section just below the summit; she has also climbed Mount Tyndall and Mount Russell, which are much more difficult 14ers . . .
Tumanguya is the only thing anyone ever asks about though, which was getting tiresome for her. We had planned a trip to Split Mountain (AKA “South Palisade”), another California 14er for this particular weekend, but decided it would be more fun as a snow climb and thought hitting Tumanguya would be a better choice for our last full month of mountaineering before a planned surgery I have.
We decided to climb Independence Peak on the first day out as an acclimatization hike (similar to what we had done on Day 0 of the JMT), then considered a different object for the second day, and finally capping it off with the Mountaineers Route on the final day of the trip. Frankie felt unsure about this plan: Doing Tumanguya as a day trip on the last day of an adventure might be especially difficult, so we opted to swap days 2 and 3.
Independence Peak Attempt
We got to Onion Valley at a similar time as we had the month before. The day was slightly shorter, but we weren’t too concerned about that– just a nice little scramble to get us above 11,000′ before we’d sleep lower; then climb higher tomorrow. It wasn’t long into the Robinson Lake Trail that Frankie realized this might be a rough climb, and possibly a slow going weekend. . .
Frankie was dealing a rough period and anemia, which is really hard to balance with intense physical activity at an elevation where there is less oxygen to go around. Of course being a badass she still just fought through it, but this will be a theme of sorts over the course of this blog.
We followed the same route up that we had before (South Ridge via West Face), except the scree a bit more consolidated due to the intense rains the Sierra received recently. Slow going up, we were not too far from gaining the South Ridge when we realized our pace meant we might be summiting as the sun sets, leading to a nighttime decent that involved scrambling and scree skiing. We made the decision to turn back– we were close to 11,000′ which would no doubt help with acclimatization the next day, and we were more concerned with getting a good night of sleep ahead of a long day. The descent of Independence Peak is normally a quick fun scree ski down the slope back to Robinson Lake Trail. With the scree washed away and what’s left being a thin layer over rocks, it made for a less than fun experience as we found ourselves struggling for footing and moving at a frustratingly slow pace when just a few weeks prior we flew down this slope.
A short night hike later and we were back at Onion Valley for a nice night of dirtbagging. Our plan was to basically nap, as we wanted to get a really early start the next day. That didn’t stop me from taking time to string up our new fairy lights in an attempt to up our dirtbag game further.
Tumanguya / Mount Whitney
We started early on Frankie’s birthday, leaving the Portal at around 4 AM. This was now my 6th time on the Mountaineers Route in 2022, and summiting today would mean my 3rd successful ascent of Tumanguya this year.
We had no problem making our way up the route, over the Ebersbacher Ledges, past Lower Boy Scout Lake, and up to Upper Boy Scout Lake (UBSL). . . which is where I ran into someone I knew yet again as a guide I know was leading a group down.
This was my first time around Upper Boy Scout Lake without snow, and I didn’t realize that there were these giant gaps between boulders that required a little bit of navigation. That’s when I had some guy ask me if I was headed toward Whitney. When I answered yes, he asked “Mountaineers Route,” and then proceeded to gesture vaguely in the direction to go.
So first off, I know. Second, does it look like I’d be on the main trail when I’m very clearly on the Mountaineers Route? Third, the vague direction you pointed is 0% helpful and 100% dismissive sarcastic bullshit. Finally, I’m only looking around unsure here because every other time I’ve been here it’s been completely level due to the snowpack filling in all the gaps that now exist– sorry that all of my ascents have been solo sinter ascents sir.
I digress. We made our way up past Upper Boy Scout and along the moraine to Iceberg Lake. Similar to feeling confused at UBSL with the lack of snow, I found myself constantly comparing the dry experience with winter, thinking about how interesting it is to be walking on ground that was as much as 10 feet beneath my feet just a couple months prior.
We ended up pretty high on the moraine leading to Iceberg Lake before that finally climb to the lake, and opted for a more difficult scramble to get there rather than the easier scramble that would have meant a loss in elevation (which we would have to make up) and more distance. It was already getting pretty late in the day at this point, and shortening the route where possible seemed like the better choice every step of the way.
It was getting close to noon when we finally were at Iceberg Lake. Frankie wasn’t feeling too great, but she was still feeling well enough to keep going, so we trudged further on. This was my first time at Iceberg Lake since my previous ascent of Mount Whitney (my “Whitney Zone Madness” adventure), so it was fun seeing this area completely melted out. I ran off to a rock that served as my “business center” during my first ascent of Tumanguya, and snapped a photo from a similar spot of my campsite.
After a bit of being amused by the comparison to the winter, I caught up with Frankie who was making her way toward the base of the couloir. It’s not as loose as I had imagined it would be, and we ended up staying toward climber’s right for most of the ascent where the rock was solid and the scrambling was fun. As we made our way further up, Frankie’s energy levels were not improving. With each big move she found her pulse peaking and her body in need of more air than it felt like she could provide, so we started tailoring our routefinding around simpler moves so that we wouldn’t have to pause for her to catch her breathe. With every step she was fighting for that summit, and with every step her body was fighting back.
We were about 1,000′ vertical feet from the summit when my concern grew for her, and luckily I didn’t have to make a hard decision for her– with her lips turning blue and her body struggling to recover, we decided together that the summit wasn’t in the cards today. Of course, Frankie being Frankie, she told me I should continue onward since I had a made a point to say that my goal was to climb the Final 400 (it being too icy and snowy to do it during both of my winter ascents, I wanted to finally experience it). I didn’t feel good about this since she looked to be in rough shape and I was concerned about her making her way down alone; but I also can’t tell her no. . .
So we split up at that point, and I made a point to move as quick as possible. I wasn’t concerned with finding a line with less exposure, or with easier moves– I was just concerned with getting back to Frankie as quickly as possible. My level of focus on getting back to Frankie was so intense that this next section of my adventure is a blur. I was moving at a pretty blistering pace up the couloir, and before I knew it I was at the notch. I could see the North Face Traverse totally dry, and I could see the ledges of the Final 400 totally dry. I remembered how to start it, with a little stem move with my arms and a foot jam to start. From there I flew up this section with little regard to which line I was taking– the left is fifth class, then moving toward climbers right it’s 4th class, and then 3rd. In my head I was going to stick to the 3rd class line when I imagined the Final 400 earlier, but now that I was here and singularly focused on getting back to Frankie, I went directly up the center on the 4th class line.
It wasn’t long before I was on the summit plateau, where I quickly went to the edge of the summit to see if I could spot Frankie in the couloir. I saw someone that might be, but it’s tough to be sure. I snapped a couple photos then I signed the summit register, and went back to the Final 400.
A lot of people opt to take the traverse on the way down unless they’re roped in, and that had been my plan earlier in the day; however that meant more distance and more time, and I was trying to literally race back down this mountain. There was a guide that had a client on coils moving down the 3rd class line, and I followed them for a good portion of the downclimb until I got in front of them and got out of the Final 400. All in all a very satisfying experience, and saved a lot of time. Then it was down the couloir, keeping skier’s right to try and keep my ascent as quick as possible making my way down. I wanted to at least get to a place where I could see Frankie, and toward the bottom of the couloir I could. I had to make a detour to our gear cache on the way, and then I met her at Iceberg Lake.
My worrying was really for naught as Frankie immediately started to feel better as she downclimbed. The combination of less exertion and slowly thickening air helped her body turn the corner, and now she was feeling fine with somewhat of an appetite at Iceberg Lake.
“Is that Brielle?” we heard from someone setting up camp. Turns out Tyler Logan, one of the guides on my winter course and the teacher of my AIARE I course was out there with a client to climb the East Buttress. He recognized me from my hat.
After a nice rest, we were back on the use trails sketched across Iceberg Lake and the moraine below, slowly making our way back to Alyx. The Mountaineers Route as a day trip is a day trip, so it was getting later, and I still knew we had a long way to go before this was over.
It was slow going on the way down. We were both pretty tired from a long day; Frankie’s body was still fighting against her; and as the sun got lower the reality of having to descend in the dark set in and I was not looking forward to that. We continued past Upper Boy Scout, down the slabs to Lower Boy Scout, past there to the Ebersbacher Ledges, then further still until we finally got the Mount Whitney Trail, and then back to the Portal. It was nice to be able to sign that register again, but I’m looking forward to when Frankie and I can sign it together.