Hiking up George Creek, one of the classic big cross-country routes from the desert to the crest of the High Sierra. The dramatic mouth of the canyon, like many that empty into the Owens Valley, is guarded by a steep cliffy narrows.
The trick is to get up through the bushwack to snow before the sun hits so you can take off the protective ‘gardening cloths’ before the swelter begins.
… and onto the snow (7,500′), the dazzling alpine world of granite towering far distant above (13,947′ Trojan Peak). This is where I stash my skis, poles and boot shells for the next couple days of skiing, before returning to my camp by the Oak grove at the base of the canyon (6,400′) this afternoon after skiing.
Entering the alpine forest (9,000′), the grand granite lines of Trojan Peak grow nearer.
The Owens Valley slowly recedes, as we uplift.
Writ large, macro crystalline structures make for a grand scale. Lingering in the sharp, hard beauty of this place, the museum is the artist, and we are the art.
Foxtail & Whitebark Pines are neighbors in the rarefied forests floating isolated far above the desert below, in this vertical landscape.
The skin track reels out behind me, crossing signs of only coyote, deer, and maybe bighorn, locals out making the rounds.
The east ridge of Mt. Williamson (14,000′) plummets directly to the floor of the Owens Valley (3,800′), only to rise again to the top of the colorful Inyo Mountains (11,000′), with relief substantially deeper than the Grand Canyon.
The base of the long, low angle summit ridge, extending left out of sight, from my high point at about 14,000′. It’s after 3:30 which is when the gully I want to ski starts going into shade, which is more important to me than tagging some summit, if it means I have to ski hideous crust or a less appealing, more moderate ski line. I suppose I could have started earlier, but hiking the rough and beautiful approach in the dark holds no appeal. I’m not here to force myself on the mountain, for some abstract summit claim, I’m just here to dance around in the granite hallways in this astounding cathedral, and take in what all it has to offer.
Blocky Mount Whitney (14,491′), tallest peak in the continental US, skylined left of center, taken from the surprise passageway leading from the gully I climbed. (photoshopped out my thumb at upper left)
Just a little late
These are not the best snow conditions above here, but there were other aesthetic considerations at play. If I wanted good snow, I would’ve stayed home.
Magnificent Trojan Peak (13,947′), displaying it’s fine alpine architecture. The big moderate snowfield leading to it’s summit is just revealed, skylined invitingly, saying why don’t you come see me sometime. OK How about tomorrow?
Now here’s some decent looking skiing
Snow is skiing much better already down here.
I climbed the gully right of center, hoping I could find a way around the chockstone blocking it near the top, and was surprised to find a hidden passage bounded by cliff walls, that led me lookers right, to another open snowfield. How generous the mountain is, making me feel so welcome.
