Kristin Tara McNamara

"The High Sierra" - 5/2005: Climb, UK Climbing magazine

An excerpt.

A hundred years ago, a wily Scotsman scrambled his way up the virginal rock face of a distinctive peak he’d seen thrusting skyward out of the rolling, tree-blanketed hills and meadows of the High Sierra. From the top he could see to the end of the world: patterns in the domes of rock made by passing glaciers, isolated alpine lakes so clear they seemed to trap the sky on earth, and beyond it, more mountains, equally as enticing. With that, John Muir became the first person to climb fourth class stone and to summit the gorgeous, and classic, Cathedral Peak. May you be the next.

The first time I decided to channel Muir, my ascent was less than idyllic. My memories of that first time were mainly epic: working hard to squish my child-bearing Irish farmgirl hips into the classic “chimney of love” pitch, finding less exposed alcoves for my accomplished sport climbing partner who became aware of his fear of heights after pitch 2, and summiting in a dusky purple light sans headtorches. Though, as I sat on the very same spot at the legendary Scot, the memories of perfect, simple hand cracks, knobby faces, and the small and definite top-out for the climb forced me to return again and again. Muir did the ascent in old leather boots from the turn of the century (20th century, I suppose that statement’s a bit old-fashioned these days), no protection, no partner. Hardcore, man. Hardcore.

Distant, untouchable, not for the mortal man: the phrase, “High Sierra,” promises endless craggy peaks sheer and dusted with snow even in the hottest summers (no, that white stuff you see from the road is not sand). Before I landed a summer job in the region, I had never visited the place though I’d lived within a four hour drive of it most of my life. When I accepted the position, I packed up my car imagining unforgiving cliffs, heavy breathing (from the altitude – the altitude!), and permanently living in my soft down jacket. Home to elusive mountain goats and cougars, as well as chipmunks (I’ve noted that folks hailing from the UK react to them the same way that we from the US titter over hedgehogs) and pesky black bears, the area’s mystique pairs the rugged familiarity of the American west with the exotic allure of the Himalayas.

. . .

When many other summer climbing vacation spots are teeming with the masses, most of the throngs stay ignorantly married to Yosemite Valley instead of venturing east to the land of plenty. When the arid heat is baking you in the Valley, it is spring in Tuolumne Meadows. Once the road is cleared of snow (usually early June), it’s open season on climbing. Early season is chilly and often finds climbs icy or wet. After a muddy and mosquito-infested June and early July, late July and August produce thousands of interesting and brightly colored flowers. With flowers, however, come beautiful, yet powerful afternoon thunderstorms, which should be taken seriously. A good rule of thumb is that if there’s even a single cloud in the sky before 10 a.m., don’t bother getting on a long route; you’ll get rained off, or worse, find out what it’s like to flash-fry. August fades into October, the temperatures cooling and snows returning, ending a short climbing season in an otherwise perfect mountain locale.

Getting to the Eastern Sierra can be a test of mettle for a traveler without personal transportation. California’s public transit system is spotty at best. Bus tour companies are your best bet for transportation into Yosemite from the west; from there it is possible to take a Yosemite-run bus (http://www.yarts.com/) to Tuolumne for the start of your Sierra exploration. If you are looking to travel north or south along the Sierra, there are public transit buses that travel from Bishop to Reno (http://www.countyofinyo.org/transit/CRESTpage.htm). Most times a friendly attitude and a thumb out will get you where you need to go, but be advised that hitchhiking is both dangerous and illegal in California, though this is a viable mode of transportation for an area teeming with backpackers trying to get back to their cars a hundred miles away.

If you have a car for transportation, the Reno/Tahoe airport is in closest proximity to the High Sierra, from there it is a 2-3 hour drive. If you are planning to fly into the San Francisco/Oakland area, count on a 6-8 hour drive.

Before you go, pick up SuperTopo’s High Sierra Climbing guide (available at http://www.supertopo.com) which boasts an exhaustive list of classics ranging from 5.5 to 5.11. The beta inside will get you where you need to go, have you prepped for the rigors of altitude climbing, and eating at the best spots in town. If you’d like to stay closer to the road while still sampling the flavor of alpine granite, the Tuolumne Classics guidebook, also available from SuperTopo, covers climbs in Tuolumne Meadows that you shouldn’t miss; and if you’re looking for some serious peak bagging adventure, the Mountaineers’ High Sierra: Peaks, Passes, Trails Guidebook is the area’s definitive guide to Sierra mountain routes (describing methods of ascent from third to fifth class).

Kristin Tara McNamara
805.748.1478
maculated@gmail.com