Quick Stats: 17.7 Miles & 10,063′ gain over 3 summits and 1 unsuccessful attempt starting from the Meysan Lake Trailhead.
This adventure has gone through such an evolution. It began as me booking a solo permit so that I would be unavailable and out of cellphone reception on my birthday (for personal reasons). Then I decided to add a second person to the permit incase someday I had someone that wanted to go with me. Then I came up with the itinerary over a 3 day trip: Mount McAdie on Day 1 after setting camp at Camp Lake; Irvine to Corcoran Traverse on Day 2; backpack out or some small side question on Day 3. Then I met Frankie, and she became the second person my trip. Then I added Candlelight Peak to the itinerary for Day 1 so that I could go and do something insane while Frankie had her own sidequest. Then my winter mountaineering partner Jaskiran got a permit to come along for the adventure. Then the “small side quest” for Day 3 became either Mount Conness via the East Ridge or Mount Russell via the East Ridge. Now with the backstory out of the way, Frankie and I left on Wednesday to be our usual Dirtbag-Dyke-selves up on Horseshoe Meadow Road so that we could better acclimatize:
We got a message on our way up from Jaskiran saying she wouldn’t be able to dirtbag with us, and also suggested that maybe we couldn’t make it since we were planning on leaving the Meysan Lake Trailhead at 5:30 AM the next morning. We let her know if she could make 7 AM work, we would definitely accommodate her. After a cookie and coffee in Lone Pine, we were parked at the trailhead waiting for Jas. At 6:59 AM, as I was reading the text saying her ETA was 7 AM, I saw her on Whitney Portal Road driving up. She came with birthday pastries, which was awesome, and we were ready for our 2 – 3 day trip to climb some mountains!
The Meysan Lake Trail is absolutely beautiful, but can be a little tedious. I’m not the biggest fan of endless switchbacks, and while they weren’t short and annoying. . . there were still more switchbacks than I would typically like. Very early on Frankie was not feeling well, which was likely due to all of the caffeine she had in the morning: We had caffeine when we woke up, and then both opted for fully leaded coffee at the café– I meant to get decaf. While I was simply buzzing, Frankie was feeling a bit nauseated. She told Jas and I to go ahead, and we turned on the Rocky Talkies to be able to keep in touch. The trek in was nice, and Frankie hanging back a bit gave Jas and I a chance to catch up! We haven’t seen each other since our attempt at an end of winter Rock Creek peakbagging adventure that we had to scrub due to conditions. The only bit of excitement on the trail up was Frankie seeing a mama bear and her Cub going across the trail. She radioed ahead to let us know that this would delay her. We weren’t in any huge rush, and when we got to Camp Lake we immediately got to work setting up camp.
Frankie was about a mile behind us the whole way, and eventually joined in our little picnic. After a little relaxation and setting our packs, off we were to Meysan Lake, which is the gateway to all of the adventures we had planned.
Mount Irvine
I’m not sure if I ever explicitly stated it to Frankie, or to Jaskiran, but as I wrote in the opening the idea was for them to do Candlelight Peak while I ran off and did Mount McAdie. While talking, and making our way to the base of couloirs that lead to Mount Irvine / Arc Pass, it turned into all 3 of us headed to Mount McAdie, and even being as ambitious as possible adding a summit of Mount Irvine to the mix. While examining the 3 couloirs that were in front of us, I had a GPX file downloaded for East Couloir and had read about it; but with a large section of snow and plenty of scree I was more interested in the couloir to the furthest right, what I’m dubbing the “NE Couloir.” Not mentioned in any guidebook or website, it looked like a pretty solid route with a lot of fun scrambling opportunities and no snow on the route. I don’t want to assume we’re first ascensionists or anything, but there was something very appealing about doing something that I had never read about. (See my bit about Trojan Peak under the Mount Williamson section.)
We cached our poles and some other items near the bottom and started up the NE Couloir. There were definitely sections that weren’t as solid as we had hoped, but there was also a lot of fun scrambling to be done. We ended up working out a bit of a system: I would be the guide routefinding up the couloir; not far behind would be Frankie; and behind her would be Jas. Of the three of us, Jaskiran is the least comfortable with scrambling, so this gave her the ability to follow closely behind Frankie and match her moves if she couldn’t immediately tell what to do. We very quickly found our first fun / crazy obstacle, which was a 4th class chimney with a decent amount of exposure. It required some fun stemming to get up, and then I let the other two know it was a fun line. As they were making their way up the ledges to get to the chimney, Jas was not feeling to confident scrambling with a pack on (it makes it more difficult), so at times on the exposed 3rd class ledges she would hand the pack to Frankie, and it eventually found it’s haul loop in my hand as a hung down the chimney to pull it up to me. Eventually Frankie was up the chimney, and then it was Jaskiran’s turn, but the combination of the 4th class moves and the exposure got to her, and she was struggling to find her way up. I found a way to scramble down a different line to get back up the ledges below her and was at the base of the chimney to try and talk her through the moves.
Eventually Jas trusted her footwork enough to make her way up the chimney, with me helping to guide her feet at a hand right behind her back to push her into the mountain incase she should fall. We continued onward, alternating between loose 2nd class, a lot of fun 3rd class, and some more 4th class sections that slowed us down.
It was getting late in the day, and I already knew that Mount McAdie was out of the picture– we had a long way to go until we would gain this ridge of Mount Irvine, and then even longer to Arc Pass; and then it’s even further still. After a while we discussed this as a team, and even agreed that Mount Irvine was out of the picture. We inched up the couloir further and further, and at various points I would tell the others to scramble to a certain point, and I would go ahead to make sure we were on a good line. I normally pick fun / challenging / exposed lines; but now that I was concerned we were racing the sun I wanted to minimize risk, do away with backtracking, and maximize efficiency. Eventually we found ourselves with what looked like a massive gendarme towering above us, so Frankie and Jas took a proper break while I scrambled up to make sure we had an exit path around the gendarme and down the ridge. I got to the top of the ridge and realized the gendarme was really just the wall of the ridge, and that we had good access to this ridge to get down.
However I was also concerned that it might cliff out, so I ended up climbing the length of the ridge until it began descending, and then saw some simple 3rd class ledges that lead it down toward Candlelight Peak. Scrambling back, I realized I forgot an important rule I normally never forget: Anytime I put my pack down and step away, I clip my Garmin to my belt loop. Without my Garmin, I wasn’t sure which of the notches in the ridge I came up, but I picked one to see where it went. I could hear Jas and Frankie talking, so I figured it shouldn’t be too far off. I was wrong.
I called down to them and let them know that the line we were on could get us back to camp, and asked if there was a line down from where I was. Frankie told me to get back up and out of there since there was no way down, and it wasn’t until I saw the photo after that I realized where I was. I let them know they should continue up to the ridge without me as I needed to get down and grab my pack. Ultimately I move very quickly and could catch up, and I was still concerned about daylight. We moved along the ridge slowly, taking time to enjoy the gorgeous view toward Mounts Whitney and Russell, and taking plenty of photos.
At one point after posing for a photo with Frankie, I let her know I may want to run off and tackle Candlelight Peak solo. I’m not one to get summit fever, but I really wanted to summit something on my birthday. As we made our way down the 3rd class ledges of Mount Irvine’s East Ridge, I made it clear to both of them that I would be taking off shortly. The plan was for me to summit Candlelight Peak while they grab everything from the gear cache, and then we meet at camp for dinner before an ambitious Day 2. I started booking it down the ridge, taking advantage of loose scree, and then taking advantage of the very low angle that leads toward the summit of Candlelight Peak. There is a point of contention which point is the true summit, so I went to both.
I then scree skied directly south of the summit. You can make short work of the descent this way, but there are a couple brief sections of scree on top of some ledges where you have to be very careful. I was eventually back at camp, and as I set my pack down I got a radio from Frankie saying her GPS was having issues, and that they couldn’t find the cache. I settled in to camp and got out my hard shell jacket and head net to protect myself from the mosquitos, then considered whether or not I should try and grab the gear myself. I realized we would be heading that way anyway, and relaxed with a snack. Eventually Jas and Frankie gave up, and now way off from the Meysan Lake Trail, found themselves scrambling down a slope that separates Camp Lake from Meysan Lake. I watched them as they did this, and also watched as Frankie almost got her boots stuck in the marsh.
When Frankie and Jas finally made it back to camp, the mosquitos were swarming, but eventually calmed down. Frankie made a point to cook me dinner since it was my birthday, and because she’s just the best:
After a nice night at camp, we set our sights on the Irvine to Corcoran Traverse the next day, and got our start at camp around 7 AM (later than I would have liked, but we had the day).
When we got to the gear cache, I proposed an idea that would turn out to not be a wise idea. This is important because I want to be a guide in the future, so it was a great learning experience for me. Judging by the speed we move as a team, I proposed that we go for an ascent of the “East Chute” instead of the East Couloir that was right in front of us. This would make for a shorter overall ascent through loose 2nd class terrain, and would put us closer to the summit of Mount Irvine. It also opened the door for us to have an “escape route,” where we could easily split up if some of the team weren’t up for the entire traverse.
The reasoning was sound, but it ended up not being the right call. There was confusion on which chute was the actual “East Chute,” and the whole time we’re traversing to try and find it we were moving at a glacial pace over loose rock. This was the second mistake: We should have descended to the lake and walked along the shore to make sure we were on the correct route. Instead we were trying to avoid a big loss of elevation gain and tried to just traverse across.
After a while we got to a point where Frankie said that she was over the loose terrain, and Jas seemed to be as well. Frankie was certain I would be able to move faster if I went solo (accurate). . . and proposed that we plan for something insane tomorrow: We would attempt Mount Russell from the East Ridge. They would get back to camp, relax, and backpack out giving themselves time to rest up for a more ambitious (and fun) adventure while I bag a few peaks, and then we would have time enough to sleep and attempt the hardest California 14er.
We parted ways near the base of the East Chute, and I quickly made my way up the loose 2nd class terrain. Everything was unpredictable: You couldn’t count on what would be solid and what you could potentially surf down a couloir on. Not long thereafter I found myself on the plateau between the chute and the summit of Mount Irvine. From afar it looks intimidating, but it’s a combination of scree and simple 2nd class scrambling to the top.
I spent some time on the summit admiring the view, and glad to have checked off another Sierra Peaks Section summit. Also noticed that Tyler Bashor, whom I was on the Winter Mountaineering Course in January with and ran into on the Shepherd Pass Trail a few weeks ago was at Mount Irvine not long before me:
I quickly turned my attention to Mount Mallory, which rises South of Mount Irvine. The route looked exhausting and committed, but for the history of the naming of these two peaks*, I felt like you have to summit them together.
* George Mallory and Andrew “Sandy” Irvine from the 1924 British expedition to Mount Everest. It’s unknown whether they summitted, but I have my thoughts (which I left in the Mount Mallory register).
Peakbagger (dot) com Entry for Mount Irvine from 7/1/2022
Mount Mallory
Coming from the summit of Mount Irvine, you can either scramble the ridge between the two mountains; or you can stay high in the bowl scrambling (but avoiding exposure and possible 4th class sections); or you can go in a straight line that involved loose terrain and a lot of loss and subsequent gain. I chose this route because I thought it would be faster than trying to routefind the other two options.
I still think it was the fastest option, but I wouldn’t say it was the most enjoyable. It was more of the same, which is what I was constantly dealing with the last two days: loose 2nd class terrain and giant boulders that you would expect are stable shifting underfoot. The goal is to find a spot on the East Ridge of Mount Mallory from this plateau to get around to the other side where it’s either simple 3rd class on top of the ridge, or a hike through scree to the summit. There appear to be multiple notches for you to get to the other side, but it’s a matter of finding the most stable line there.
Once in one of those notches, I decided to stay on top of the ridge– a sort of personal reward to myself after all of the bullshit, and finally a chance at some stable scrambling for the first time that day. If you stay directly on top of the ridge, it’s mostly simple 3rd class, but you’ll also find a few sections that require some moves, including a really fun chimney.
It wasn’t long before I was on the summit, taking in the view from an altitude slightly higher than Mount Irvine. Irvine was the junior climber of the two, I guess. I looked off at Mount LeConte and Mount Corcoran, and decided I would end my journey here. I could feasibly make it if I really booked it, but I’m not a fan of rushing through something for the sake of signing a register– I want to actually enjoy the climb to some degree, and I think trying to squeeze in the other two peaks would have been less than enjoyable. I decided the more pleasurable option was to relax on the summit for a while. I put on my summit slippers and puffy, and ended up spending about an hour relaxing at 13,851′.
After I was plenty relaxed it was time to head down. I decided to try the East Slope route as it would be a lot faster; however I knew there was a distinct possibility that it would be covered in snow. I decided to gave it a shot anyway after having a quick chat with a cute lesbian couple on my way down from the summit– the first people outside of Jas and Frankie I’ve seen in a couple days.
As I got down to the East Slope I could see a massive snowfield. I didn’t have an ice axe, and was wearing my backpacking boots (not my mountaineering boots); so I said out loud: “This might be a very dumb idea Brie.”
The snow quality was actually decent, and even though the sun cups were massive I had no problem plunge stepping my way down. As I got further down I started to nice a section to Skier’s Right that was pure ice. I figured I’d keep to Skier’s Left and I would be fine. . . until I realized that in line with that ice was a section of the slope so steep I couldn’t see it, or what was below. It was time to call it on this descent route, and instead climbed back up the East Ridge (at a point much further down), scrambled over it to be back facing the East Chute, and started to find my way down off the ridge and into the loose nonsense that is the East Chute. I was over it at this point. I was tired of boulders shifting and sliding; tired of almost losing my balance; and at one point when I actually felt I was for sure done with this. The mountain wasn’t done with me though, and I had to continue downward. There came a point where toward the bottom of the chute where I started intentionally stepping on what is normally my least favorite thing: Talus with scree. Why would I do that? I felt like it was more predictable since I knew it would shift or cause be to slide, where as the boulders were entirely unpredictable.
Eventually I was on the sandy shores of Meysan Lake, and there was a beautiful little stream of fresh snowmelt. I did some laundry and took an alpine sponge bath before I continued down a beautiful little route back to Camp Lake.
By this point Frankie and Jas had packed up and taken almost all of the gear, leaving some behind for me as well as plenty of water to rehydrate. After relaxing on solid ground with snacks and water, I was loaded up and headed out. Along the way I had the opportunity to provide beta to a group of young climbers on how to climb Mount Mallory– they were planning on the East Slope but lacked snowclimbing gear and experience; so I advised they take the East Chute and warned them of how loose it would be.
Further down the trail I caught up with Frankie and Jas, and the three of us got back to our cars to enjoy a dirtbag dinner and sleep before our attempt the next day on Mount Russell.
