Weldon Peak was the last of the HPS peaks I had left to climb in the Southern
Sierra, and seemed an easy hike before heading for home the same day. It is
located off Jawbone Canyon Road, a particularly nasty dirt road, especially
where it climbs high into the mountains near the trailhead. Mike's Jeep was
up to the task, whereas none of the cars I owned could have managed it. Mike
sometimes wonders whether it's his charming personality or his Jeep that I'm
most fond of.
We left my van near the town of Weldon off SR178 and took the Jeep for the long
drive south into the mountains. The road had only recently been opened to
vehicles after the seasonal winter closure, and there was a great deal of
erosion damage that had been inflicted upon it as the snows had
melted off. Fortunately we were able to make it up the steep switchbacks without
damaging our kidneys, jostled as they were while we bumped our way along.
We had intended to stop where the road comes closest to the peak, just before
it tops out on the switchbacks and turns to the north, but found a locked gate
and many words of warning to discourage us. Some of the words were even spelled
correctly. You don't want to upset bad spellers, so we didn't even think about
trespassing. If it can be avoided, that is. Unable to find the PCT nearby as we
expected, Mike fired up the laptop to read the HPS approach directions more
carefully. The missing key was the instruction to drive 0.3mi past the
locked gate to a 
parking area off a side road to the right.
With the parking
area found easily enough, we still had some trouble finding the PCT. Eventually
we found it on the other side of the ridge running parallel and just west of
the road. The easiest place to find it is about a hundred yards north of the
locked gate where one can easily cross over the ridge at a low point and then
find the trail not far down the slope on the other side.
We followed the PCT down for about 800ft as it descends to a saddle between the
starting point and Weldon Peak (the starting point is the same elevation as the
peak, so one has 800ft to descend at the start, followed by 800ft up to the
summit). Before reaching the saddle, the trail abruptly
ends where it emerges upon a dirt road and marked by 
a duck.
An easement along 
this road marked by a 
few stakes allows
the PCT to continue down and past the 
Casa de Oro ranch,
where it again leaves the road and becomes a real trail. We followed along the
trail as it begins to contour around the west side of Weldon Peak. After about
ten minutes we turned left and headed uphill at a spot marked by a small cairn.
Or at least what looked like a small cairn with a small, decaying wooden stake
sticking out. There was not the usual groomed use trail, heavily ducked, that
one often finds on other HPS peaks, so we were unsure if we had turned off at
the correct location or perhaps too early. No matter, we had a GPS with us that
would lead us to the highpoint with or without a trail.
We were happy to find there was little bushwhacking needed, as we were generally
able to zig-zag our way up the hillsides under the forest canopy through small,
connected clearings. Some brush couldn't be avoided, but it was minimal. We knew
the HPS register was located not on the highpoint, but on a subsidiary pinnacle
to the northeast, and it was to this pinnacle we navigated with the help of the
GPS (I would consider a GPS a near-requirement for this peak if you've never
visited it before). As we neared the 
rocky pinnacle we began to find
lots of old flagging marking the route, and just before an hour had elapsed we
were standing at 
the base of it.
We climbed about 2/3 of the way up the class 3 boulders on the west side to
where the HPS guide indicated the register was kept, but found no sign of it.
Of more concern, the final distance to the summit appeared to be no easy task.
Two huge blocks,
separated by a gap that flared from eight inches at the
bottom to several feet near the top, stood in our way. They were covered with
dry lichen that rubbed off as one tried to climb the steeply slanted face on
the easier one. Even with rock shoes it would have been hard for us to climb
the slab using the cracks that ran diagonally up the face of the north block.
After searching about the other sides for easier options, we returned to the
chimney formed between the two blocks. Mike initially started up, but hesitated
after only a few feet. Confused about how to proceed, I offered suggestions by
way of example, squeezing myself into the chimney at the midpoint, then using
opposing pressure to inch my way up the chimney. And in a somewhat easier
fashion
than I had imagined, I found myself up top. It was probably the hardest HPS
summit block I had yet encountered, the nearby block on Lightner Peak being
the previous hardest.
The wind was blowing strongly across the summit block and it was difficult to
remain in a standing position for more than a few seconds. Long enough for Mike
to take a picture from below, and me to 
take one from above,
I then backtracked
to the relative safety and protection of the chimney. I sat atop the lower
south block, just above the chimney, to help 
coax Mike
up to the top. He tried
to recreate the moves I had used to get atop, but without much experience in
chimney climbing he seemed hesitant to believe that opposing forces alone would
be enough to surmount the obstacle. Unable to find sufficient holds for a more
conventional ascent, he eventually gave up the attempt though only a few feet
from the top.
Climbing back down the chimney, we made a last sweep of the rocks about us for
the register, then descended to the base of the pinnacle on the west side. Upon
reaching the base we quickly found the familiar red can amongst a small pile
of rocks that we had somehow missed on the way up. Some of the register entries
were 
amusing, expressing indignation about the register belonging on
the very
top to separate the men from the boys. We briefly considered carrying it back
to the summit block, but in the end decided we didn't really care that much one
way or the other.
Before returning, we made an attempt to reach the named highpoint of Weldon
Peak, a short distance to 
the southwest.
It had seemed easily indentifiable
from the HPS pinnacle, but upon reentering the forest we suddenly couldn't tell
one nearby bump from another. The GPS did not seem to match with what we saw
about us, and after surmounting what I later believed was the highpoint, we
continued southwest towards another bump that looked higher. This turned into
some nasty, dusty bushwhacking that would probably have been better left
unthrashed and unexplored.
More confusion ensued as we headed up the other bump, somehow got
off track, and finally we decided to abort the operation altogether.
Rather than return the way we had come, already chewing up some 20 minutes in
silliness, I suggested we head west and northwest down the west slopes of
Weldon Peak to intercept the PCT more directly. Mike was game, and down we went.
More bushwhacking. Whack, whack. More thrashing. Thrash, thrash. It seemed
we were being punished by the mountain gods for taking the peak so lightly at
the start. Thorny brush all about. Poke, stab. Poor Mike is wearing a pair of
shorts. Ouch, ouch. Eventually we stumble upon the PCT and our mini-ordeal is
at an end. It is a simple matter to head north and follow the PCT back the way
we came. We found no better duck to mark the exit point off the trail, so our
route up was probably the easiest/shortest, though it is by no means as heavily
visited as some of the other HPS peaks. By 12:30p we had
returned to the Jeep,
making for a three hour outing (where we thought it would easily be less than
two hours). Weldon had proved to be one HPS peak that was not to be trifled
with.