Wed, Aug 21, 2013
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Etymology Mt. Ickes |
Story | Photos / Slideshow | Maps: 1 2 | GPX | Profile |
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Mt. Ickes lies about 1.5 miles west of Pinchot Pass, high above the South Fork of the
Kings River. It comes up 40ft short of 13,000ft, but it made its way to the Challenge
this year because I've had an eye on it for many years now. The shortest route to reach
it is via Taboose Pass which is not one of my favorites - it has very little forest
cover and the trail is often rocky, making it difficult to jog down. But still, it has
an odd appeal to me as I'm always trying to see if I can make it to the top in three
hours, something I've only managed once. Our crew today was small and compact
owing to the 4a start. As I was driving to
the trailhead with Pat once again, she remarked that she didn't sleep all that well. I
laughed and told her my little story of how my evening had gone with Michael C
being lost coming off Split Mtn and the perplexing Shirley who had come out of left
field in the middle of the night. After listening to me ramble on, Pat found herself
surprisingly content with only six hours sleep.
There were eight of us at the TH, with Tommey starting about 15 minutes before the rest
of us to get a short jump on the day. The group was a strong one and it helped motivate
me to try and keep up with the faster ones this morning. Perhaps they'd be able to help
"pull" me up to the pass in three hours. We sent Eric to the front since he'd likely be
out of sight soon. Chris and Michael would take up the rear positions with Sean, Pat,
Jonathan and myself mostly together in a tight group not all that far behind Eric, whose
headlamp we could see now and then as it made a turn on a switchback. I followed behind
Pat, my eyes focused on her gaiters,
covered in sinister skulls with glowing red eyes.
Where do you even buy gaiters like these, I wondered. The skulls had me mesmerised for
several hours as I did my best to keep up the unrenting pace.
It took most of an hour before we caught back up with Tommey and he quickly fell in with our group of four making good time to the pass. The skies overhead had not cleared from the previous afternoon storms in the usual manner. This made for dark skies with no moon or stars to brighten the early morning hours. Somewhere around 5:30a it started to drizzle on us, the first time we'd ever encountered rain so early in the morning during a Challenge. I'm sure I wasn't the only one thinking this was a bit crazy and we should probably call it a day, but I somehow found it amusing even as I was digging my rain jacket out of my pack. The others did likewise though Sean, with only one good hand, would have trouble getting a jacket on or off - it was unusual to see him reduced to mortal status.
Sunrise came around 6:15a. The clouds did not cover the whole sky, but left a
small sliver of open sky to
the east, just above the Inyo Range. When the sun
came up it was a blaze of orange and red, lighting up the
surrounding peaks in
a most artistic fashion for a few precious moments. We were
all oohs and aahs as we looked around in all directions. This early morning weather stuff
had some brighter moments, too. The best was yet to come. The sun lasted only a few
minutes before climbing behind the cloud layer, leaving us back in the
morning shades of dull
gray. We toiled up the trail for another 45 minutes, occasionally glimpsing Eric ahead
of us, Jonathan uncharacteristically dropping behind. About ten minutes from Taboose
Pass the sun suddenly broke through a second time, this time quite brightly, bathing
the
headwall rocks just east of the pass in vivid color. Just above the pass
was a most
beautiful rainbow,
stretching almost 180 degrees from one side of the broad pass to the
other. Now this had more than compensated for the annoyance of precipition at so
early an hour. When the four of us reached the pass around 7:10a (just missing the 3hr
mark),
Tommey and Pat
were giddy and joking about how badass we were, doing the best rap
poses they could manage while outfitted in rain gear. The clouds were moving
north and west and left much of
the pass
with blue skies as we reached it, suddenly
changing our perspective on the day - it was looking more like fine weather ahead rather
than the doom and gloom of earlier.
We stayed maybe three minutes at the pass, photographing Cardinal Mtn and
Arrow Peak
before starting down the other side. Our uphill grind was now replaced with a far more
pleasant alpine walk through
wide-open vistas and a gentle downhill that
eventually merged with forested terrain and
the junction
with the JMT. We
turned left and headed south up the
wide side canyon
leading to Pinchot Pass, taking us past small unnamed lakes and the larger
Lake Marjorie. Tommey left us at some point along the way as he was
heading east to Mt. Pinchot and then Wynne. Sean, Pat and I were heading to Ickes which
lay out of
view behind the ridge that lines the west side of the JMT. There was some discussion as
to which route would be best. I had drawn a route on the map leading up a moraine to the
crest just east of Ickes. From the JMT, this looked quite difficult with a very steep
headwall. We settled on
a longer route
with extra gain that would reach to the unnamed peak to southeast,
but the going looked to be fairly straightfoward class 2 with more solid
rock. The original route would work, we found, as Eric used this for the ascent. But he
did not recommend it as it was quite loose and a bit sketchy.
It was 9a by the time we started the climb to the subsidiary peak.
Pat and Sean were
climbing ahead of me and I was doing my best to keep up. It was a mix of talus, broken
rock and the occasional short section of nice scrambling. It was 9:45p by the time we
topped out on Peak 3,860m+ with a grand view of Mt. Ickes to the northwest.
To
the south
was the White Fork of Woods Creek drainage, flowing down to Roads End near Cedar Grove.
The gray clouds gave a gothic look to the pointed granite peaks that stretch off to the
Kings-Kern Divide in the distance. We looked around
for a register but found none, not even a cairn. It seemed like just the sort of summit
to find an Andy Smatko register. With a spare register in my pack and feeling
somewhat inspired, I decided to name the summit in classic Smatko style by combining
portions of our last names to come up with O'Burley Peak. It may never make it past the
BGN and into the USGS database, but future visitors would at least become familiar with
the name and scratch their heads as to its origin.
As we started down the West Ridge along the crest to Ickes, we spotted Jonathan not far
below us on an intersecting trajectory. He had snuck up behind us around Lake Marjorie
and had circled around our route, choosing to climb to the saddle south of O'Burley and
then contouring around its southwest slope. I would have guessed ahead of time that this
longer route would be slower, but Jonathan was proving otherwise. At about the same time
we spotted Eric making his way back from
Ickes, the five of us meeting up around the saddle
west of O'Burley, and just above the sketchy chute Eric had ascended. By this time it
was windy and chilly and not nearly as pleasant as the weather we had encountered west of
Taboose Pass. While Sean, Pat and I were bundled in jackets, these two were in shorts
and Eric was clad in a single short-sleeve tshirt. Ah, to be so young again. We weren't
even sure if he had any rain gear at all in his tiny daypack. Eric wanted
to know if the summit we had just come down from would count as a bonus peak. Alas, no,
I told him, as it didn't qualify with the 500ft of prominence an unnamed summit
requires. He didn't really want to go back the same way so he climbed it anyway - making
the second ascent soon after we split up again.
The entire ridgeline from O'Burley to Ickes is class 2 sand, scree and talus, the final
stretch up Ickes' East Ridge a messy collection of badly fractured rock. Not a
very pleasant scramble, but at least an easy one. It was 10:30a by the time we reached
the summit. We
camped out just below the top on the south side to get out of
the wind as much as possible. Bundled up, we ate lunch, Jonathan passed around his
gourmet chocolates, and we went through the register that dated
to 1966. The booklet had been partially burned at some time in the past,
though how it might have happened naturally was hard to imagine, surrounded as we were
by endless rock. The notebook was now just a collection of loose sheets that I tried to
put in chronological order before photographing them. Jonathan contributed
a new booklet and register container before we
tucked it back under the summit cairn. It had taken some 6.5 hours to reach the summit,
a long time, but at least not as long as Black Divide three days earlier.
The clouds were not going away, that much was clear. Whether they would develop into
afternoon thunderstorms was open to debate, but it wasn't the sort of thing you'd want
to bet against. None of us were too eager to repeat the slog back across the ridgeline
and over O'Burley Peak, especially when the way north
looked so much shorter and
inviting. Pat was of the opinion that it was too cliffy and dangerous to go down that
way while I thought with some effort we ought to be able to find a way down this
broad north face we were confronted with.
Sean did the work for me, scoping
out
the face from several angles before declaring it would work. Pat went up
to have a look too and was soon convinced. I was happy to just sit and eat
my sandwich and not have to do
any of the work on that one - I would just follow the others. Part of Sean's convincing
argument lay in his handicap of having just one hand to work with. If Sean could
downclimb the slope with only three appendages, surely the rest of us could do so with
four.
Shortly before 10:50a we packed up our gear and
started back
down the East Ridge. We
descended for about fifteen minutes before turning
left and
starting down the North
Slopes. There were no cliffs where we chose to go down, but it was steep and there
was a great deal of loose talus. We spread out across the slope to keep from knocking
rocks down on each other. Pat and Jonathan descended with more skill than one-armed Sean
and myself and were soon well ahead. I'd like to believe that I was hanging back with
Sean in case he got into any trouble, but the truth was I just wasn't as quick as the
other two. We reached the bottom of the talus-fest after about 20 minutes, onto
easier slabs and more firm terrain, stopping briefly to empty the sand
from our shoes. At this point Pat and Sean took off ahead, losing
Jonathan and myself before reaching the Bench Lake Trail. It was about 12:15p
when we found the trail (right where the GPS told us to expect it, thank you very much)
ourselves, at which point Jonathan went into mushroom-hunting mode.
While I plied the trail he continued cross-country about 20-30yds off to the side to
increase his chances of finding the Sierra delicacies. He found plenty of them, but kept
none, prefering to simply discourse on their desirability and other qualities, much as
he had done the previous day. If he caught on that I wasn't really paying him much
attention anymore, he didn't let on, perhaps just happy to share so many interesting
muchroom facts with the trees and squirrels. I think Pat and Sean had left the two of us
quite deliberately, in retrospect.
We met up with some backpackers taking a break at
the junction with the JMT, five or
six all told. Jonathan stopped briefly to talk with them (he was probably getting tired
of my unresponsiveness). We continued
heading east back to Taboose Pass, enjoying the nice trail and easy gradient with
fine views in all directions. It was 1:30p before we reached the
pass where we stopped long enough to take a few
pictures of
each other. Not long after starting down
the east side,
Jonathan decided he'd do some running on the trail. I might
have joined him, but the trail is quite rocky and not easily jogged. I preferred to get
my cranky knees back down the trail mostly by walking, but some jogging when the trail
improved. Not ten minutes from the trailhead I
caught back up with Jonathan who was now
cruising the trail with Chris in tow. Jonathan must have caught up with him and decided
to strike up a conversation with a fresh listener, throttling back on his running.
When the three of us got back to the TH we found that Sean and Pat had been back an hour, Eric more than three hours. Others had also returned earlier, having gone to Cardinal or Striped, and a few were still out on the trail. Tommey would win the award for most hours today, not returning from Pinchot and Wynne until 11p (!). We returned to US395 and drove to Independence where we planned to spend the next three nights. The three hardest days of the Challenge were now behind us and the next three were expected to be considerably easier, a good thing, because my body could use the break...
Jersey Strategy
By not taking on any bonus peaks, Eric had picked up more than two hours over Pat to take
the lead for the Yellow Jersey. He was also in sole possession of the Polka Dot and White
Jerseys and looked unstoppable. He was definitely a force to be reckoned with.
His only real
competition was Sean who had been injured on the third day, so it left him pretty much
unchallenged. Pat picked up an hour on Jonathan for the Green Jersey, giving her extra
cushion on that one.
I had thought that Shirley would be back in Sunnyvale by this time, but alas, this was not the case. I was informed via email by JD that he had gone to retrieve her from the Motel 6 in Bishop at 10a but found her AWOL. He had gone home solo. In Independence I learned from Shirley that she had stepped out of the motel for breakfast since she didn't expect JD to pick her up until 11a. She had then gotten a ride to Independence from Peter who had taken the day off. It wasn't clear upon her arrival in Independence what her plan was, probably because there wasn't a plan at all - she was winging this from hour to hour. She would get another participant to provide her floor space for the night. She knew better than to ask me, but only because Pat had gone over to admonish her for being so unprepared and inconsiderate. Pat was my hero right when I needed a hero the most.
I also heard more about the incident that got her kicked out of Sara's car. Sara had agreed to give her a ride from the Bay Area on condition that she would pay for half the gas and other expenses. They drove more than five hour and went through several tanks, but Shirley could not be induced to provide funding - she would conveniently disappear to use the restroom and be unavailable. In Bishop she had done the same trick, only this time Sara didn't start the pump. When Shirley came back out she would not buy any gas, preferring "to settle up at the end." Sara saw where this was going and refused. Shirley could buy gas or take her stuff out of the car. Incensed, Shirley demanded to be taken to the Tinemaha Campground. Sara declared there was not enough gas to get her there. It would seem Sara had the upper hand at this point, but she did not account for crazy. Shirley called the police.
The Inyo Sheriff came out to Piute gas station. Oddly, this wasn't the first time they'd responded to this sort of situation. The officer calmly listened to both sides before siding with Sara and telling Shirley she would have to remove her stuff from the car. As the car was being unpacked, a large kitchen knife fell to the ground. Spotting this, the officer quickly stepped on it and asked why Shirley had such weapon. "For cutting vegetables," was the reponse. "Not today," replied the officer before confiscating the item. Two other women were nearby getting gas, watching all this go down. They felt sorry for Shirley and offered to play Good Samaratan and give her a ride to the campground. And so the gear was repacked and the three ladies headed south on US395. Only they never got to the campground, or at least didn't stay there. They got as far as Big Pine before Shirley changed her mind. Perhaps staying at an unknown campground by yourself with no transportation no longer seemed wise. Perhaps it was the darkness. In any event, a new plan was needed, one that would provide safe shelter at minimum cost, preferably no cost. Which is why I got a phone call at 9p the previous night...
Continued...
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