R03/R01 TR: 8/17-24 2017: A Dumbbell Sandwich: Palisades to Devils Crags
Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 2:58 pm
TR: Aug17-24 A Dumbbell Sandwich: Rocking between the Palisades and Devil’s Crags
A buddy from the East coast was born in August, and for the last decade, he has celebrated birthdays scrambling around the Sierra. After chasing the morning sun to LA International, the questions that sustain us for the drive to the Owens Valley are: how is the air (smoke?) going to look when we reach Olancha, and will the monsoonal systems of the past several years be waiting to douse us? To accommodate these uncertainties, we usually identify 3 or 4 target trailheads between Lone Pine and Tioga Pass. This year, South Lake-Bishop Pass won the lottery and our goal was to see whether we could get over Fair Trade Pass and into Amphitheater Basin as a prelude to the Dumbbells/Devils Crags. But, just getting to Fair Trade was half the fun, so here’s the skinny on our route. We acclimated overnight in Bishop and headed out: South Lake trailhead-Bishop Pass-Dusy Basin-Knapsack Pass-Palisades Basin-Potluck Pass-Glacier Creek Basin-Cirque Pass-Palisades Lakes-Fair Trade Pass (spoiler alert: we aborted)-Mather Pass-Upper Basin (UB) and UB Crossing-Amphitheater Basin-Cataract Creek Pass-Dumbbell Lakes Basin-Observation Peak Pass ( southwest variant)- 10 Island Lake Basin-Adventurer Pass (via ridge route)-down to Palisade Creek and the JMT back to the Bishop Pass trail and out to South Lake. Day 1: After watching South Lake shrink to a sad puddle over the last 5 years, the welcome mat to the mountains was finding it filled to the brim. If one needed any more index of the boom-bust cycle of water in this state, South Lake is a case study. Curiously, the parking lot had plenty of open slots, and soon after we got our gear out of the car, a guy came steaming out of the woods. He was thoroughly jazzed from 7 days in the wilderness and his excitement was contagious. Pretty soon we were hitting familiar signposts for Treasure Lakes and the Chocolate/Ruwau diversion. Ample wildflowers were a reminder of the late bloom and there was abundant snow on the distant peaks: plenty of promise for chilled evening libations. The lakes leading up to Bishop Pass were as healthy looking as I’ve seen and plenty of snow was still melting at the pass. As we descended into Dusy basin, Knapsack pass looked like a doable goal. However, the traverse of Dusy took more time than expected and when we hit the last big lake north of the pass, we parked for the evening to catch the light show on Agassiz, Isosceles and Columbine Peaks. As was the case throughout the trip, we set up a tent (in case), but slept under the stars. Magnificent barely does the night sky justice.
Day 2: Being in the shadow of the Palisades, the sun was hitting Muir Pass long before it found us. By then, we were at the base of Knapsack Pass which, from the tracks through the hard-packed snow, had seen plenty of boots before ours. However, we’d not encountered another soul from the time we left the trail in Dusy basin and that remained the case as we worked our way past the Barrett Lakes toward Potluck Pass. Remnant shooting stars marked our progress and occasional mosquito swarms appeared when the wind died down. But, with few exceptions, we ran into very few insects, but lots of columbine. It was a great year for columbine! The traverse from Knapsack to Potluck is a steady grind with no major obstacles. The entertainment really begins when one reaches the top of Potluck, because there are lots of choices, but no obvious route down. As we were evaluating our options, I noticed a guy steaming across the basin below us, and he headed for the scree-laden western approach. I was tempted to go that way, too, but because the direct shot down the hillside would land me in a “glissadable” snowfield, that turned out to be my choice. My buddy went for the scree, and shared route observations with the guy headed up. The other thing I noticed on the Potluck Ridge is that there was a lone backpacker moving very swiftly across the basin behind us. It turned out to be a young lady who swept past me while I was waiting for my pal to descend the scree. About the time we shared a distant hello, I noticed a guy astride Cirque Pass, who then descended in a flash. In a matter of 30 minutes, we’d encountered a cluster of folk in this relatively obscure corner of the Sierra (OK, the high route does go through here, so it’s not that obscure). Anyway, we did contemplate trying to notch Cirque Pass that afternoon, but after spending way too long getting around a snow field at the outlet of the lake feeding Glacier Creek, we parked for the evening under the Palisade Crest. It was another night of magical star light followed by the slow transition from dawn to full sun.
Day 3: It took us a lot longer to ascend Cirque Pass than what we’d witnessed from the guy coming down the day before (as we learned later, he was rendezvousing with the young lady we saw). And, oddly, there were far fewer signs of folks going over Cirque compared with Potluck. I know this is naïve, but do folks head into the Glacier Creek basin and leave via some other route? It wasn’t obvious. Still, there were plenty of snow patches in the initial descent from Cirque Pass, so we got down to the first tarns pretty quickly. After that, it was slower going, because cliffs keep forcing one in a northwesterly direction to avoid class3-4 segments. But, because the JMT is in view for much of the drop from Cirque, we knew that the path would soon get abundantly easier, and busier. Both expectations held true. Fortunately, we were only on the JMT for a couple miles and then slipped off for the un-named lake northwest of Mather Pass that is close to the approach to Fair Trade Pass. Our campsite had a direct sightline to the segment of the JMT descending from Mather Pass, and there were plenty of folk heading down toward Palisade Lakes as nightfall approached. We felt vaguely degenerate to be sitting around with rum-based cocktails, while other people were still trucking. The “guilt” vanished quickly….. Day 4: OK, let’s see how Fair Trade Pass shapes up. As we got closer, it was clear that we could ascend on snow to within a couple hundred feet of the ridge. The surface was compliant and relative to the eager beavers ascending Mather Pass, we were doing pretty well. But, once we started running out of snow, the route became less obvious, and we eventually dropped packs for a closer look. There were a couple of candidates for reaching the ridge, but they looked to have significant zones of uncertainty. After plenty of head scratching, we started considering plan B. Our backup was to retreat to the JMT, go over Mather Pass and then scramble to the base of Upper Basin Crossing (UBC), which has its own charms. And, that’s exactly how the day played out. After spending >2 hours ascending Fair Trade, it took all of 15 minutes to glissade down. Once on the JMT, we ran into a continuous string of happy campers, but none so unexpected as a work colleague from LA. Tom had started his solo, northbound trek on the JMT about a week earlier and was really getting into the “groove”. We chatted for at least 45 min and then continued in our respective directions. The top of Mather had a cluster of people enjoying the view, but with clouds already assembling, we wanted to get to a campsite for a much needed bath. We found a great spot to park at the lake below UBC, cleaned up and enjoyed the dappled lighting on the Upper Basin. At about 1am, I awoke for the nightly bladder relief only to realize that the eastern sky was ominously dark and a brisk wind was picking up. Although we’d had plenty of daytime cloud cover, the skies had usually cleared at dusk. This was a harbinger of something else, and not long after we got into the tent, the first raindrops hit. But, it was more sound and fury and very little moisture, so by daybreak, we were contemplating prospects for doing the hop into Amphitheater Basin.
Day 5: By mid-morning it was obvious that the cloud cover was going to scotch any chance of witnessing the solar eclipse. But, in spite of the fast-moving clouds, there had been very little rain, so we decided to pack up and see if we could get over UBC. The cool temperatures contributed to a smooth ascent, but as the rain gods tend to do, they saved their best for when we reached the ridge. Fortunately, I’d been over UBC several years earlier, and we hit the ridge within 10 feet of where the route down begins. So, taking into account the increasingly slippery rock and being concerned about possible lightning, we ditched any opportunity to enjoy the stunning views astride UBC and headed down. Aside from looking like sodden, bedraggled rodents, it was not long till we were out of the talus and in wildflower-strewn meadows. And, as blue sky began to appear over southern ridges within an hour we were enjoying the full glory of Amphitheater Basin. It’s a mighty cool spot to celebrate a birthday!
A buddy from the East coast was born in August, and for the last decade, he has celebrated birthdays scrambling around the Sierra. After chasing the morning sun to LA International, the questions that sustain us for the drive to the Owens Valley are: how is the air (smoke?) going to look when we reach Olancha, and will the monsoonal systems of the past several years be waiting to douse us? To accommodate these uncertainties, we usually identify 3 or 4 target trailheads between Lone Pine and Tioga Pass. This year, South Lake-Bishop Pass won the lottery and our goal was to see whether we could get over Fair Trade Pass and into Amphitheater Basin as a prelude to the Dumbbells/Devils Crags. But, just getting to Fair Trade was half the fun, so here’s the skinny on our route. We acclimated overnight in Bishop and headed out: South Lake trailhead-Bishop Pass-Dusy Basin-Knapsack Pass-Palisades Basin-Potluck Pass-Glacier Creek Basin-Cirque Pass-Palisades Lakes-Fair Trade Pass (spoiler alert: we aborted)-Mather Pass-Upper Basin (UB) and UB Crossing-Amphitheater Basin-Cataract Creek Pass-Dumbbell Lakes Basin-Observation Peak Pass ( southwest variant)- 10 Island Lake Basin-Adventurer Pass (via ridge route)-down to Palisade Creek and the JMT back to the Bishop Pass trail and out to South Lake. Day 1: After watching South Lake shrink to a sad puddle over the last 5 years, the welcome mat to the mountains was finding it filled to the brim. If one needed any more index of the boom-bust cycle of water in this state, South Lake is a case study. Curiously, the parking lot had plenty of open slots, and soon after we got our gear out of the car, a guy came steaming out of the woods. He was thoroughly jazzed from 7 days in the wilderness and his excitement was contagious. Pretty soon we were hitting familiar signposts for Treasure Lakes and the Chocolate/Ruwau diversion. Ample wildflowers were a reminder of the late bloom and there was abundant snow on the distant peaks: plenty of promise for chilled evening libations. The lakes leading up to Bishop Pass were as healthy looking as I’ve seen and plenty of snow was still melting at the pass. As we descended into Dusy basin, Knapsack pass looked like a doable goal. However, the traverse of Dusy took more time than expected and when we hit the last big lake north of the pass, we parked for the evening to catch the light show on Agassiz, Isosceles and Columbine Peaks. As was the case throughout the trip, we set up a tent (in case), but slept under the stars. Magnificent barely does the night sky justice.
Day 2: Being in the shadow of the Palisades, the sun was hitting Muir Pass long before it found us. By then, we were at the base of Knapsack Pass which, from the tracks through the hard-packed snow, had seen plenty of boots before ours. However, we’d not encountered another soul from the time we left the trail in Dusy basin and that remained the case as we worked our way past the Barrett Lakes toward Potluck Pass. Remnant shooting stars marked our progress and occasional mosquito swarms appeared when the wind died down. But, with few exceptions, we ran into very few insects, but lots of columbine. It was a great year for columbine! The traverse from Knapsack to Potluck is a steady grind with no major obstacles. The entertainment really begins when one reaches the top of Potluck, because there are lots of choices, but no obvious route down. As we were evaluating our options, I noticed a guy steaming across the basin below us, and he headed for the scree-laden western approach. I was tempted to go that way, too, but because the direct shot down the hillside would land me in a “glissadable” snowfield, that turned out to be my choice. My buddy went for the scree, and shared route observations with the guy headed up. The other thing I noticed on the Potluck Ridge is that there was a lone backpacker moving very swiftly across the basin behind us. It turned out to be a young lady who swept past me while I was waiting for my pal to descend the scree. About the time we shared a distant hello, I noticed a guy astride Cirque Pass, who then descended in a flash. In a matter of 30 minutes, we’d encountered a cluster of folk in this relatively obscure corner of the Sierra (OK, the high route does go through here, so it’s not that obscure). Anyway, we did contemplate trying to notch Cirque Pass that afternoon, but after spending way too long getting around a snow field at the outlet of the lake feeding Glacier Creek, we parked for the evening under the Palisade Crest. It was another night of magical star light followed by the slow transition from dawn to full sun.
Day 3: It took us a lot longer to ascend Cirque Pass than what we’d witnessed from the guy coming down the day before (as we learned later, he was rendezvousing with the young lady we saw). And, oddly, there were far fewer signs of folks going over Cirque compared with Potluck. I know this is naïve, but do folks head into the Glacier Creek basin and leave via some other route? It wasn’t obvious. Still, there were plenty of snow patches in the initial descent from Cirque Pass, so we got down to the first tarns pretty quickly. After that, it was slower going, because cliffs keep forcing one in a northwesterly direction to avoid class3-4 segments. But, because the JMT is in view for much of the drop from Cirque, we knew that the path would soon get abundantly easier, and busier. Both expectations held true. Fortunately, we were only on the JMT for a couple miles and then slipped off for the un-named lake northwest of Mather Pass that is close to the approach to Fair Trade Pass. Our campsite had a direct sightline to the segment of the JMT descending from Mather Pass, and there were plenty of folk heading down toward Palisade Lakes as nightfall approached. We felt vaguely degenerate to be sitting around with rum-based cocktails, while other people were still trucking. The “guilt” vanished quickly….. Day 4: OK, let’s see how Fair Trade Pass shapes up. As we got closer, it was clear that we could ascend on snow to within a couple hundred feet of the ridge. The surface was compliant and relative to the eager beavers ascending Mather Pass, we were doing pretty well. But, once we started running out of snow, the route became less obvious, and we eventually dropped packs for a closer look. There were a couple of candidates for reaching the ridge, but they looked to have significant zones of uncertainty. After plenty of head scratching, we started considering plan B. Our backup was to retreat to the JMT, go over Mather Pass and then scramble to the base of Upper Basin Crossing (UBC), which has its own charms. And, that’s exactly how the day played out. After spending >2 hours ascending Fair Trade, it took all of 15 minutes to glissade down. Once on the JMT, we ran into a continuous string of happy campers, but none so unexpected as a work colleague from LA. Tom had started his solo, northbound trek on the JMT about a week earlier and was really getting into the “groove”. We chatted for at least 45 min and then continued in our respective directions. The top of Mather had a cluster of people enjoying the view, but with clouds already assembling, we wanted to get to a campsite for a much needed bath. We found a great spot to park at the lake below UBC, cleaned up and enjoyed the dappled lighting on the Upper Basin. At about 1am, I awoke for the nightly bladder relief only to realize that the eastern sky was ominously dark and a brisk wind was picking up. Although we’d had plenty of daytime cloud cover, the skies had usually cleared at dusk. This was a harbinger of something else, and not long after we got into the tent, the first raindrops hit. But, it was more sound and fury and very little moisture, so by daybreak, we were contemplating prospects for doing the hop into Amphitheater Basin.
Day 5: By mid-morning it was obvious that the cloud cover was going to scotch any chance of witnessing the solar eclipse. But, in spite of the fast-moving clouds, there had been very little rain, so we decided to pack up and see if we could get over UBC. The cool temperatures contributed to a smooth ascent, but as the rain gods tend to do, they saved their best for when we reached the ridge. Fortunately, I’d been over UBC several years earlier, and we hit the ridge within 10 feet of where the route down begins. So, taking into account the increasingly slippery rock and being concerned about possible lightning, we ditched any opportunity to enjoy the stunning views astride UBC and headed down. Aside from looking like sodden, bedraggled rodents, it was not long till we were out of the talus and in wildflower-strewn meadows. And, as blue sky began to appear over southern ridges within an hour we were enjoying the full glory of Amphitheater Basin. It’s a mighty cool spot to celebrate a birthday!