Despite
having over 100 SPS peaks
to his credit, Ron Zappen
still did not have emblem
status. To correct this situation
he proposed a climb of Mt.
Williamson. His plan was
to get his emblem on the
mountain that was actually
on the emblem badge. Sounded
like a plan to me. Mary Jo
Dungfelder is after all of
the 14ers in California,
so she was in favor of this.
As the word got out, two
more jumped on the bandwagon,
but due to various reasons
only we three carpooled to
the Shepherd Pass Trailhead.
We left the car at 2:30 pm
on a hot Sunday in July.
Our plan was to hike just
a short distance to get a
jump on the tough trail to
the pass. With the wet winter
previous, the crossings were
cold and deep in spots. Refreshing
actually! After the fourth
crossing we began the 56
switchbacks to Symmes Creek
Saddle. We weren't sure whether
we should curse or praise
them. With the heavy packs
it was better than going
straight up, but maddening
to walk so far with such
little upward progress being
made. We made the saddle,
but with no water available
it was out of the question
to camp there. So we started
the infamous drop to Shepherd
Creek. Several hot miles
later we pulled into Mahogany
Flats just as the last rays
of daylight flickered out.
We hastily pitched camp,
had a cold supper and collapsed
in our bags.
The next morning
saw us sleeping in late and
heading for the pass at 8:30
am. Over the course of our
approach hike we saw many
parties coming out and heading
in. They all seem to share
our goal of climbing the
West Face, and we wondered
just how crowded that route
might be. After passing Anvil
Camp and The Pothole we found
ourselves at the base of
snow covered Shepherd Pass.
A group of four from Houston
started up. Ron soon joined
them. Mary Jo and I had a
snack while contemplating
the possibility of getting
our packs up that slope.
We soon headed upward.
At
the pass, Ron asked us
about the bear. "What
bear?" Ron and the
Houston boys had watched
a bear approach us at the
base of the pass. He seemed
interested in our snack.
We were completely oblivious!
As we were talking, sure
enough, this enterprising
bruin loped over the pass
and down into Sequoia N
.P.
We
set camp and decided on
a start time of 5:30 am next
morning. Off we went then,
headed for the West Face
route. Following the description
in RJ's book, we kept to
the ridge in the center
of Williamson Bowl. Soon we
had to move right to avoid
cliffs. Here the snow was
still hard, and with a
small precipice near, we decided
on crampons for this traverse.
Here misfortune struck.
Ron was short one crampon. He
thought he knew where it
must be, so off he went
in search of it. Mary Jo and
I continued on to the northern
most lake in the bowl.
We fully expected Ron, with
his speed, to catch up
quickly.
We topped off our water at
the lake. This was the spot
to look for the famous black
stain. It was quite obvious,
and we climbed loose scree
and talus to the right of
the stain. The chute to the
top was even more obvious.
It was only a matter of hard
work. The snow was very firm
and we again used crampons.
The snow stopped just short
of the headwall at the top
of the chute. The chimney
to the right was easy to
spot. It was dry and clear,
to our relief. Some easy
third class moves had us
on the summit ridge. Some
class 2 scrambling placed
us at the top soon enough.
Eight hours after leaving
camp we stood on top of Mt.
Williamson. We admired the
views and munched for half
an hour, then headed down,
hoping Tyndall. Mary Jo was
enthusiastic, I was not.
Half an hour from camp I
quit, happy to sit on a rock
and watch them climb the
Northwest Ridge. Mary Jo
soon turned around, and we
watched Ron until he dissolved
into the talus.
We returned
to camp and drank, ate
and napped away the rest
of the morning. Early in
the afternoon Ron returned
from "West" Tyndall.
The only route he could
find to the summit involved
descending an ugly 500'
debris chute, which he
did not find so appealing.
He's now convinced that
the North Rib is the way
to go.
We packed up and
headed for Anvil Camp. It
was good to breathe the thick
air at 10,000 feet. The next
morning found us humping
back to the car. It was a
fine trip to a big mountain
in perfect Sierra weather,
with great companions. |
