DATE 5/13/05
IDS 4951 4958 4980 3788
GROUP red_lake_4 stevens_1 waterhouse_1 leviathan_1
PARTY Matthew_Holliman
As a sequel to our highly enjoyable 
<a href=martin_point_2.html>Carson Spur - Pass Traverse</a> the previous year, 
I hit upon the idea of a Carson Pass to Luther Pass Traverse as a warmup for
the weekend's ambitious plans. Matthew was all in favor of this for several 
reasons - it would break up the long drive to Mammoth Lakes from the Bay Area,
and it would position us nicely for a post-adventure dinner at the Whoa Nellie
which had recently reopened for the season. Leaving home at 2a, we managed to
make our way to <1>Carson Pass</a> shortly before 6a. 
This would have coincided with
sunrise, or thereabouts, had there actually been a sunrise. The morning was
overcast with high clouds, and though not really threatening for most of the
day, they would keep temperatures on the cool side and the views from the 
ridges and peaks marginal.

As is now usual, Matthew was out <2>in front</a> 
from the beginning as we headed up
the SW Ridge to Red Lake Peak. This was my fourth time up this popular peak,
now holding second place only behind Half Dome in my Most Visited list. The
wind was brisk though thankfully not howling as it been the last time we 
climbed this, and we had jackets on before we were halfway up the ridge. While
Matthew forged ahead and approached the volcanic summit rocks from the east
side, I decided to tackle the crested summit head-on from the south. This 
turned out to be a very enjoyable class 4 traverse made a bit more difficult
due to the snow found in many places. There was only one location that I could
not attack the ridgeline directly and had to downclimb 10 feet or so on the
east side to bypass it. I found my way to <4>the summit</a> 
at 7a, some 10 minutes
after Matthew had already arrived by his alternate route. I didn't stay more
than a minute, eager to continue the S-N traverse to see how the rest of the
summit ridge would work out. This panned out nicely, class 3 nearly the whole
way until I was able to scramble back to the snow covered main crest. Matthew
<5>followed</a> the same <6>descent route</a> a few minutes later, 
and together we headed off towards Stevens Peak.

From Red Lake to Stevens the ridge was mostly snow covered and easy to follow.
There were a few <7>rocky ridges</a> we scrambled across to keep this 
interesting, and
ran into <8>one section</a> with a large, 20-foot dropoff that we could not 
successfully negotiate (other than that, the entire traverse from Carson to 
Luther Pass can be scrambled directly on the ridgeline).  We <9>continued on</a>
to Stevens a short distance away, <15>arriving</a> at 8a. Not much of
a summit really, mostly flat-topped with similar views as Red Lake Peak. There
was a summit register, but most of the contents were damp. Mike Larkin was the
last entry from a few weeks earlier. Later via email he mentioned that he'd 
found the register in even worse condition with some of the notepads lying in 
the snow. Heading north from the summit, we encountered a ridgeline with some
very <16>large cornices</a> and paused to take our picture on them. We joked 
about 
"doing a Thomas," referring to Mark Thomas's 1,000ft ride down an avalanche
when a cornice broke from under him while hiking in Utah earlier in the 
season.

Shortly after this 
we came to a location along the ridge with some fantastically fluted
pinnacles on the southeast side of the crest, all the more impressive looking
with their mantle of snow. We stopped to admire one particular pinnacle, alone
and detached from the main crest. It rose to a sharp point, a summit block 
maybe two feet on a side. I couldn't stand to leave it unmolested, and jumped
down to the connecting saddle to scramble to it's summit. Matthew watched from
the ridge above as I wallowed in deep snow trying to gain a footing onto the
pinnacle. The snow just came away from the pinnacle in soft, non-consolidated
clumps. I tried to pound a platform to stand on as I pushed the snow down below
my knees, but it seemed to disappear below me without raising my footing a bit.
I had to pause to put on heavier gloves to keep my hands from freezing, and
eventually cleaned enough snow off the rock to get ahold of it and pull myself
higher. I had to pause again to get out my axe to help negotiate a short,
snowy arete to the base of the pinnacle. As I started chimneying up between
two pillars I began to realize how dangerous the pinnacle was. The rock was
friable sandstone with rounded rocks embedded between the layers. It had 
evidently been a seashore at one time in its distant past, and subsequently
risen up from the depths over the eons. But the embedded rocks had never fully
consolidated with the sandstone, 
and what I thought were ideal foot and hand holds came away far
too easily. As long as I was perched between the two pillars I felt safe, but
the final eight feet to the higher summit pinnacle would require me to 
negotiate those precarious holds. I chose to leave the top untouched, and called
to Matthew to take a picture. After he obliged, I carefully descended the 
pinnacle and retraced my steps, collecting all my gear along the way. Not
exactly successful, it had been an adventurous 15 minute diversion nonetheless.

Further along the ridge we came to a memorial 
<17>stone marker</a> for a 12yr-old boy
named Kenny Miller who died here in 1992. Challenged with learning disabilities
as a result of an illness as a toddler, Kenny had been an inspiration to all 
those around him. While on a family outing in the Tahoe area he had disappeared,
and an 11-day search by the El Dorado SAR team turned up nothing. Later his
body was found on this exposed ridge. Just how he had wandered so far from
where he disappeared was somewhat of a mystery. Along with some papers 
describing the incident in a plastic bag, the stone marker was surrounded
by toy trucks, presumeably a favorite of Kenny's. Some looked fairly new,
suggesting they are brought up regularly by family pilgrims. It was a very
touching memorial, and Matthew and I were both moved by it. It would have
been impossible not to be. The gray skies added to the melancholy of the 
moment, and after a short pause we <19>continued on</a>.

We now had some elevation to lose, dropping down to a saddle near Scotts Lake
and then up 1,400ft to Waterhouse Peak. The snow grew softer as we descended
and <20>we paused</a> to put on our snowshoes. Down we went to 
<21>the saddle</a> and wandered a bit through <22>the forest</a> seeking the 
uphill slope leading to Waterhouse. We came across some <23>bear tracks</a>, 
fairly fresh from the looks of them.

Matthew <24>forged ahead</a> on the climb and
I didn't even try to keep up. I was happy to use his snowshoe tracks to make
my own easier. We followed a route that took us up the middle of the South Face,
keeping on snow as much as possible. A few hundred feet short of the summit
we had to remove the shoes and climb boulders the remaining distance. Matthew
had somehow been convinced that the summit was off to the east when in fact
it was more to the northwest, and this extra divergence allowed me to catch up
and reach the true summit just before Matthew. We found another popular 
register on Waterhouse, the third for the day. This one seemed in better shape.
We took a few pictures and had a snack while we rested briefly, then 
continued northeast down the mountain towards <32>Luther Pass</a>. 
We arrived shortly
before 11:30a, and while I set out my gaiters and snowshoes to dry on the warm
pavement of the parking area, I put out my thumb for every car passing south
over the pass. 

It didn't take long to get a ride, though we got only as far as 
<33>the junction</a>
with SR88. From there I picked up a second ride almost immediately, but that
one took me only as far as Red Lake. From there I tried unsuccessfully to 
get another ride to the top of Carson Pass, but ended up walking the remaining
two miles <37>back</a> to the car. I drove back down and picked Matthew up 
alongside the road, then we drove on to Markleeville and up to 
<42>Monitor Pass</a>. 

During the
drive we were discussing afternoon options, but because Matthew had had enough
of the snow for one day, these were limited. We finally hit upon a short hike
out of Monitor Pass to <43>Leviathan Peak</a>. 
As far as we know the peak shows up on no
peak list, and it's only qualification was that the name appeared on the road
atlas we were consulting. The peak lies maybe a mile from the highway. A dirt
road, partially covered in snow winds its way to the communication facilities 
found
on the summit. There is also a <49>FS lookout</a> up there, 
though long abandoned. The
hike itself was short and uneventful, but the views were far better than we had
expected. Evidently it has over 1,000ft of prominence and has a surprisingly
far-ranging view, southeast to <44>the Sweetwaters</a>, 
east to Nevada, and a fine
selection of <46>Sierra peaks</a> to the west. 
We could pick out a few such as Hawkins, Markleeville Peak and Highland, but 
there were many to the southwest 
between SR4 and SR108 that looked quite inviting and wholely unknown to us. We
lingered about the summit for a while, knowing this was the last peak of the
day, and eventually made our way back to the car. 

The weather had been unsettled most of the day, starting off overcast, then
clearing some, now growing more gray. On our drive south on US395 we got some
raindrops, but not much else. The weather looked to be stronger to the north,
but our drive south kept us clear of that as we made our way through Bridgeport
and Lee Vining. As expected we stopped for a late lunch / early dinner at the
Whoa Nellie. We had the place nearly to ourselves, making the most of the 
fine menu selection. A <52>fitting end</a> to a fine outing!

<a href=dade_2.html>Continued</a>...