June 10th to 12th, 2010
Muah Mountain (11,016')
Cartago Peak (10,480')
Olancha Peak (12,123')
But on the plus side when we came out a day early and rather than do something drastic like head home and sleep we took the opportunity to dayhike the nearby Olancha Peak. It was so pretty back there
(Wow! It’s not snowing and the wind isn’t blowing hard enough to knock me over!) that I was compelled to do a nice relaxed backpack there.
So of course I planned a three day 53 mile traverse involving three peaks. Can you feel the relaxation?!
Joining me was Rudy Fleck, a repeat offender from a number of my previous trips, and Anne Kircher, one of my WTC students from this year I’d invited along on the recent private Nopah and Kingston DPS trip several weeks ago. It took her the better part of a week to regain the ability to walk without massive pain and to decide she was still speaking to me. Once she did and several weeks had passed she took me up on the offer of an easy paced Sierra trip.
Note the frost on the feet of her bag and Rudy’s pillow. (She’d also inched towards Rudy and I throughout the night out of fear of bears)
53 easy miles!
In order to do the things I wanted to do and avoid coming out the same way we went in we needed to set up a car shuttle. Fortunately Rudy was up for driving up himself and agreed to leave his car at the southern Sage Flats trailhead. We could then drive to Horseshoe Meadows to the north and hike back to his car.
Of course with this year’s large amount of snow even getting to many of the trailheads was questionable as it was taking longer than usual to get them cleared. As luck would have it though Horseshoe Meadow had just opened two days before which meant we were in business!
I picked up Anne in Orange County after work and we pulled into the Sage Flats trailhead sometime around midnight and found a very accommodating Rudy dozing in his car. A quick gear transfer later the three of us were again headed north and made Horseshoe Meadows sometime after 1 am.
I’d elected to stay in the back of my vehicle while Anne and Rudy slept out in the cold.
In order to do the things I wanted to do and avoid coming out the same way we went in we needed to set up a car shuttle. Fortunately Rudy was up for driving up himself and agreed to leave his car at the southern Sage Flats trailhead. We could then drive to Horseshoe Meadows to the north and hike back to his car.
Of course with this year’s large amount of snow even getting to many of the trailheads was questionable as it was taking longer than usual to get them cleared. As luck would have it though Horseshoe Meadow had just opened two days before which meant we were in business!
I picked up Anne in Orange County after work and we pulled into the Sage Flats trailhead sometime around midnight and found a very accommodating Rudy dozing in his car. A quick gear transfer later the three of us were again headed north and made Horseshoe Meadows sometime after 1 am.
I’d elected to stay in the back of my vehicle while Anne and Rudy slept out in the cold.
Note the frost on the feet of her bag and Rudy’s pillow. (She’d also inched towards Rudy and I throughout the night out of fear of bears)
We had a leisurely wakeup taking time to dry out our gear in the sun. Then it was time to shoulder our packs and head out.
I had been informed by the Inyo permit lady that Mulkey Pass may or may not be passable due to unspecified events the previous year. She recommended we take the nearby Trail Pass. Fair enough.
First we crossed Horseshoe Meadow and picked up a boot trail through some well consolidated snow headed towards Trail Pass. Despite the warning the trail was headed for Murkey Pass and so that’s where we went.
We ran into a guy gold panning near the top of Murkey. That was a first for me. He was in the middle of a 9 day solo trip and other than being chatty seemed perfectly normal. Our encounter two days later would alter that opinion…
We made Murkey Pass, joined the Pacific Crest Trail, and started swinging around Mulkey Meadow.
We got our first look at Muah peak in the distance.
We traversed around some pretty meadows along the way. We could hear frogs chirping and I commented on an easy happy hour idea. No one else was amused.
We were on the PCT but actual signage was sparse. I finally saw one of the old markers high up on a tree. Most of these seem to have been pried off and stolen.
We eventually split off the PCT and dropped in to Ash Meadow where we had lunch.
After a bite to eat we headed east along Ash Meadow. Muah was less than impressive from this side
We dropped packs at a convenient spot and proceeded up a gentle slope to the summit.
The approach was a dirt simple slope but the summit block was interesting enough. Rudy ran off and did a somewhat sketchy route straight up while Anne and I stomped up a snow slope on the backside and scrambled up the easy rocks.
It was beautiful up there but then it was soon time to head down as we had more mileage to get in before we could setup camp for the night.
Dropping back to the meadow we headed off to the southwest to meet up with the PCT again.
We were all getting a bit tired at this point but the number of mosquitoes buzzing around the meadow kept us from being too tempted by potential camping spots.
Instead we rejoined the PCT and proceeded south. We ran into a few PCT thru hikers about 700 miles in to their hike to Canada.
One was a couple, Jack and Barb (Booboo). We had a fairly long chat with them where we learned they were looking for their friends, a pair of kiwis that had wandered off without a map.
The three of us adopted this cause and started quizzing every person we passed spreading the word of the lost kiwis. I’m proud to say we spread that particular rumor waaaaaay past what it deserved (it turned out they had taken the wrong trail and met back up with everyone several days later)
We also found out that there was no water for the next 7 miles or so. That was a pretty big incentive to find a place to camp.
We filled up water and climbed a nearby ridge where we found the perfect camp spot.
We promptly named the rock outcropping next to where we camped Mount Anne.
We had a pleasant evening cooking dinner and sitting out under the stars before retiring.
I slept in a bivy and the next morning I had a bit of frost but overall it was a pleasant night.
Anne did some impromptu camp yoga while I drank coffee, watched, and winced (I’m fairly sure I’m the least flexible person on the planet)
And soon we were off down the trail again. Today we were aiming to bag the elusive Cartago Peak and get as close to Olancha as possible to set us up for our final day.
Off in the distance we could see Olancha waiting for us. The highest peak in the southern Sierra it has a tendency to stand out.
But that was tomorrow. First we had Cartago.
Cartago is in the picture above. Can you make it out? No? Well, that’s the peaks claim to fame. You get up there and there’s identical rock pinnacles all over the place. You either use a GPS to find the right one or be prepared to spend a lot of time climbing random piles of rock and being disappointed.
Before we dropped off the PCT into DEATH CANYON (yes, I used a dramatic voice each and every time I mentioned it during the trip) we ran into a few more PCT hikers.
This fellow claimed to have been out in the wilderness for 388 days straight and had a trail name similar to the guy from the overly romanticized drek that was Into The Wild. When I asked what he did over the winter he said he had been hunting and gathering in Holcomb Valley (near Big Bear). I didn’t ask whose dumpster he’d been eating out of.
We dropped off the trail across some pleasant cross country. Once in DEATH CANYON we dropped our packs again and proceeded up with minimal summit packs.
Sure enough there were a large amount of pinnacles that sure looked like they could be the summit. Fortunately I had a waypoint that took us straight to the correct pile of rocks.
Cartago is technically a 3rd class peak. As it turns out there’s two moves to get up there that make you pay attention.
We made it up without too much hassle and found the summit register.
I love that picture for some reason. Looks like Father Rudy preaching on the mountain.
Once again we had a beautiful view but had to keep moving to get in our miles for the day. We returned to our packs and then headed southwest down DEATH CANYON looking to pick back up with the PCT.
The terrain was rough at points but soon we arrived back at the PCT.
The junction of the PCT and DEATH CANYON was a popular camping spot for thu hikers with water and ample established camp spots.
It was here we ran into our gold panning friend again.
He’d just emerged from the stream having taken a bath. That bundle of clothing in his hand was in fact his underwear.
He was really chatty and we talked with him a bit before Rudy and Anne took off down the trail.
Things got a little odd when he went on and on about a figure you could see when descending the PCT past where we’d dropped into the canyon. Apparently it looked like a male Indian but if you walked a little further and (directed at Anne) “I’m only saying this because there was a woman your age who told it to me so it’s ok” it turns into a female.
This seemed very exciting to him. (I’m thinking he’d been out alone for a few too many days.)
From there we traversed around a few more meadows and started gradually gaining altitude as we approached Olancha.
I was keeping a hopeful eye out for bears (Anne really wanted to see one) but all we saw were a few surprisingly shy marmots.
I’d originally hoped to get a bit further so we could climb the peak directly from camp but again we were tired and it was pretty much time to pull over.
We found a campsite reasonably exposed to wind (helps keep the mosquitoes down) and had the added benefit of a set of bear tracks running right through it. Home sweet home!
We had dinner…
And Anne once again made me wince with her camp yoga.
Soon the sun went down and it was time to turn in.
As I mentioned before I’d brought my bivy to sleep in despite a slight chance of rain in the forecast. For extra insurance I’d offered (and been taken up on) carrying the poles to Anne’s two person tent so I could sleep there in the case of weather.
Now that we were in camp Anne nicely informed me that due to my hard work carrying the tent poles I was free to sleep outside the door that didn’t have (bear attracting) mustard spewed all over it (from a cooking accident the night before.) All heart that girl.
My night as bear guard passed without incident.
The next morning we had yet another relaxed start and strolled out of camp around 8 pm.
Anne took her yoga on the trail this time.
We started hitting some sizable patches of snow on the backside of Olancha but it was noticeably less then when I’d been there a few weeks before.
A few miles down the trail it was time to drop packs one last time and scramble up to the summit of Olancha.
Partway up I heard a noise off to the side and saw a head stick up over a rock. Turns out it was John Slagle and Christine Soskins day hiking the peak from Sage Flats. Mark Butski was coming up behind a short ways.
The 5 of us strolled up the rest of the way and soon came to the summit.
It was a beautiful day and we all enjoyed the view while we waited for Mark. (I wanted a summit shot with everyone)
One of these people arrived at the summit and was immediately pulled into a picture with barely the chance to catch his breath. Guess which one.
We said our goodbyes to John, Christine, and Mark and started down. From here I knew all the terrain as it was the same way Jen and I had come up a few weeks back.
I’d intended to take a decent break at the cow camp near Summit Meadow. When we passed by however the mosquitos were so heavy we just kept going.
At Olancha Pass we decided they were down to bearable levels and took a snake break.
We were buzzed a few times by a glider. With no engine they’re silent except for the sound of wind ripping across them. We used to see them all the time when I worked the fire lookout on Tahquitz and I’ve always wanted to ride in one.
From Olancha Pass it was all downhill. After a few long hours we made the trailhead near dark and took the opportunity to douse off.
Now unfortunately we had to drive further north to retrieve my vehicle. We did take the opportunity as we passed Lone Pine to stop in for a tasty dinner and beer at Whitney Café before driving up the long windy road back to Horseshoe Meadows.
We were anxious to get on the road at this point as we had quite the drive home in front of us but the adventure wasn’t over yet. As we pulled up next to my vehicle I saw a light on in the cab and had a sinking feeling in my gut.
Turns out we’d left the visor mirror on the passenger side open which triggers a small light that no one noticed when we left.
Fortunately Rudy had jumper cables.
That crisis dealt with we started the long drive home.
Once again by the time I dropped Anne off at her house it was rather late which translated into me getting about 20 minutes of sleep before needing to wake up and go to the airport. Ah well, sleep is for the weak!
Aaaand next week on Matthew’s Magical Mountain Mystery Tour, Matt and the gang run afoul of the cranky old caretaker at the Cerro Gordo Ghost Town…
(Yes, really.)
We filled up water and climbed a nearby ridge where we found the perfect camp spot.
We had a pleasant evening cooking dinner and sitting out under the stars before retiring.
I slept in a bivy and the next morning I had a bit of frost but overall it was a pleasant night.
Anne did some impromptu camp yoga while I drank coffee, watched, and winced (I’m fairly sure I’m the least flexible person on the planet)
And soon we were off down the trail again. Today we were aiming to bag the elusive Cartago Peak and get as close to Olancha as possible to set us up for our final day.
Off in the distance we could see Olancha waiting for us. The highest peak in the southern Sierra it has a tendency to stand out.
But that was tomorrow. First we had Cartago.
Cartago is in the picture above. Can you make it out? No? Well, that’s the peaks claim to fame. You get up there and there’s identical rock pinnacles all over the place. You either use a GPS to find the right one or be prepared to spend a lot of time climbing random piles of rock and being disappointed.
Before we dropped off the PCT into DEATH CANYON (yes, I used a dramatic voice each and every time I mentioned it during the trip) we ran into a few more PCT hikers.
This fellow claimed to have been out in the wilderness for 388 days straight and had a trail name similar to the guy from the overly romanticized drek that was Into The Wild. When I asked what he did over the winter he said he had been hunting and gathering in Holcomb Valley (near Big Bear). I didn’t ask whose dumpster he’d been eating out of.
We dropped off the trail across some pleasant cross country. Once in DEATH CANYON we dropped our packs again and proceeded up with minimal summit packs.
Sure enough there were a large amount of pinnacles that sure looked like they could be the summit. Fortunately I had a waypoint that took us straight to the correct pile of rocks.
Cartago is technically a 3rd class peak. As it turns out there’s two moves to get up there that make you pay attention.
We made it up without too much hassle and found the summit register.
 |
| Father Fleck telling it on the mountain |
Once again we had a beautiful view but had to keep moving to get in our miles for the day. We returned to our packs and then headed southwest down DEATH CANYON looking to pick back up with the PCT.
The terrain was rough at points but soon we arrived back at the PCT.
The junction of the PCT and DEATH CANYON was a popular camping spot for thu hikers with water and ample established camp spots.
It was here we ran into our gold panning friend again.
He’d just emerged from the stream having taken a bath. That bundle of clothing in his hand was in fact his underwear.
He was really chatty and we talked with him a bit before Rudy and Anne took off down the trail.
Things got a little odd when he went on and on about a figure you could see when descending the PCT past where we’d dropped into the canyon. Apparently it looked like a male Indian but if you walked a little further and (directed at Anne) “I’m only saying this because there was a woman your age who told it to me so it’s ok” it turns into a female.
This seemed very exciting to him. (I’m thinking he’d been out alone for a few too many days.)
From there we traversed around a few more meadows and started gradually gaining altitude as we approached Olancha.
I was keeping a hopeful eye out for bears (Anne really wanted to see one) but all we saw were a few surprisingly shy marmots.
I’d originally hoped to get a bit further so we could climb the peak directly from camp but again we were tired and it was pretty much time to pull over.
We found a campsite reasonably exposed to wind (helps keep the mosquitoes down) and had the added benefit of a set of bear tracks running right through it. Home sweet home!
We had dinner…
Soon the sun went down and it was time to turn in.
As I mentioned before I’d brought my bivy to sleep in despite a slight chance of rain in the forecast. For extra insurance I’d offered (and been taken up on) carrying the poles to Anne’s two person tent so I could sleep there in the case of weather.
Now that we were in camp Anne nicely informed me that due to my hard work carrying the tent poles I was free to sleep outside the door that didn’t have (bear attracting) mustard spewed all over it (from a cooking accident the night before.) All heart that girl.
My night as bear guard passed without incident.
The next morning we had yet another relaxed start and strolled out of camp around 8 pm.
Anne took her yoga on the trail this time.
We started hitting some sizable patches of snow on the backside of Olancha but it was noticeably less then when I’d been there a few weeks before.
A few miles down the trail it was time to drop packs one last time and scramble up to the summit of Olancha.
Partway up I heard a noise off to the side and saw a head stick up over a rock. Turns out it was John Slagle and Christine Soskins day hiking the peak from Sage Flats. Mark Butski was coming up behind a short ways.
The 5 of us strolled up the rest of the way and soon came to the summit.
It was a beautiful day and we all enjoyed the view while we waited for Mark. (I wanted a summit shot with everyone)
One of these people arrived at the summit and was immediately pulled into a picture with barely the chance to catch his breath. Guess which one.
We said our goodbyes to John, Christine, and Mark and started down. From here I knew all the terrain as it was the same way Jen and I had come up a few weeks back.
I’d intended to take a decent break at the cow camp near Summit Meadow. When we passed by however the mosquitos were so heavy we just kept going.
At Olancha Pass we decided they were down to bearable levels and took a snake break.
We were buzzed a few times by a glider. With no engine they’re silent except for the sound of wind ripping across them. We used to see them all the time when I worked the fire lookout on Tahquitz and I’ve always wanted to ride in one.
From Olancha Pass it was all downhill. After a few long hours we made the trailhead near dark and took the opportunity to douse off.
Now unfortunately we had to drive further north to retrieve my vehicle. We did take the opportunity as we passed Lone Pine to stop in for a tasty dinner and beer at Whitney Café before driving up the long windy road back to Horseshoe Meadows.
We were anxious to get on the road at this point as we had quite the drive home in front of us but the adventure wasn’t over yet. As we pulled up next to my vehicle I saw a light on in the cab and had a sinking feeling in my gut.
Turns out we’d left the visor mirror on the passenger side open which triggers a small light that no one noticed when we left.
Fortunately Rudy had jumper cables.
That crisis dealt with we started the long drive home.
Once again by the time I dropped Anne off at her house it was rather late which translated into me getting about 20 minutes of sleep before needing to wake up and go to the airport. Ah well, sleep is for the weak!
Aaaand next week on Matthew’s Magical Mountain Mystery Tour, Matt and the gang run afoul of the cranky old caretaker at the Cerro Gordo Ghost Town…
(Yes, really.)
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