MT. LANGLEY
(14,027 ft.)June 27, 2006
By Tim Briese
I had a great time mountain climbing in California in 2003 when I climbed Mt. Whitney, Mt. Muir, and Mt. Russell, and I looked forward to returning now and climbing more of the Golden State=s 14ers with my good friend and climbing partner Brian. Our plan was to dayhike Mt. Langley the day after we arrived and then backpack in to climb Mt. Tyndall and Mt. Williamson on the following days.
I flew to Las Vegas on Monday morning and met Brian for the four hour drive to Lone Pine, California. We drove through Death Valley on the way, where it was a furnace-like 122 degrees, the hottest outdoor temperature I had ever experienced. Upon arrival in Lone Pine we went to the ranger station to pick up our wilderness backpacking permit and also to inquire about snow conditions we might encounter on our Langley climb. The information we received was vague, so we continued asking around in town that evening. We received various opinions about route conditions we might encounter on our way to the peak, including one store clerk=s assertion that we would be hindered by several feet of snow still lying in the Cottonwood Lakes Basin! At this point we weren=t sure what we were getting into.
That evening at the Comfort Inn Brian called the front desk and requested a wake-up call at 2:45 a.m., whereupon the young female desk clerk observed, with great candor and perhaps with some accuracy, AYou=ve got to be crazy!@
We left the motel at 3:05 the next morning and drove our rental car up the fine paved road to the Horseshoe Meadows Trailhead, climbing an incredible 6000 feet up out of the Owens Valley in less than 15 miles. At 4 a.m. we hit the Cottonwood Lakes Trail with our headlamps in the dark. The first few miles of the trail were almost flat and quite easy, so we clipped rapidly along. We stopped for a food break at dawn, but swarms of voracious mosquitoes encouraged a quick resumption of our march.
After three and a half miles we came to a junction where we had to make a decision whether to go right toward Old Army Pass or left toward New Army Pass on the way to Langley. Both were viable ascent routes based on trip reports we had read, with the former being shorter and steeper with more snow, and the latter being longer and gentler with more elevation gain. I was concerned about the steep snow climb to Old Army Pass that would be required, based on photos I had seen, but was enticed by its expediency. We had previously discussed these alternatives at length, but did not reach a final decision until we stood at the junction itself, where we decided to head to the right toward Old Army Pass.
The trail climbed higher up through the woods and soon the terrain opened up as we entered the beautiful Cottonwood Lakes Basin. Crystalline lakes lay mirror-like in pristine alpine meadows, and Langley towered above to the northwest. The trail became more faint but we found our way past several lakes up to the base of Old Army Pass. As anticipated, the couloir below the pass was filled with steep snow. After a short break we climbed up a rocky slope to the right of the snow as high as we could and then put on our crampons and proceeded to climb up on the snow. Crampons and ice axes were a must for this climb. The snow climb was rather exhilarating and went quite rapidly. The steepness of the greatest pitch was slightly nerve-wracking, though, and we both concluded we would prefer not to come back down this way.
We reached the top of Old Army Pass at 8:45, completing the 500 foot climb from the lake in the basin directly below in about 45 minutes. We were now at about 12,000 feet elevation, and Langley=s summit stood about two miles away to the north. The rest of the ascent looked rather easy from this vantage point but it turned out to be longer and more tedious than it looked. At 9 a.m. we headed north on a trail toward the summit, slogging up across loose gravel for much of the way.
Clouds began to puff up into the sky and quickly exploded into stormy formations. When we were here in June of 2003 we saw hardly a cloud in the sky for several days, giving us the utopian impression that California climbing weather is usually perfect. That illusion was now in the process of being shattered! Soon a dark storm began dropping rain and bolts of lightning into a valley about two miles to the west. In addition to the weather concerns, Brian=s pace began to slow considerably, which was quite understandable since he had not been at elevation for nearly a year. All of a sudden the status of our climb was very uncertain! Several times Brian encouraged me to press on ahead and make a run for the summit, but I would have none of that, insisting that we would summit together or not at all. I cast many nervous glances at the dark sky, feeling great concern about our wide-open exposure to storms on this endless slope, with nowhere to hide. After a while we determined that the nearby storm was slowly sliding obliquely to the northwest away from us, so danger was not imminent. More dark clouds, however, were building up to the south.
We climbed to the left up through a minor rocky cliff band, across a couple of patches of snow, then proceeded northward up a loose, gravelly trail toward the summit plateau. Upon finally reaching the plateau we spotted a couple of points that appeared to be summit candidates and soon concluded the one on the left was the true highpoint. We stepped on top about 11 a.m. and gazed about at the spectacular views, particularly off to the northwest toward Mt. Whitney. I carefully peered over Langley=s dizzying north face into a chasm far below.
We were indeed thankful to make it to the summit given such threatening conditions. The clouds still looked bad and were getting worse, so we stayed on top for only ten minutes before leaving. We blasted back down the two miles to Old Army Pass in only an hour, hurried along by the specter of growling thunderstorms surrounding us on three sides.
We did not care to go back down the steep snow below Old Army Pass, so hiked past it and continued south a quarter mile while climbing 300 feet to the top of New Army Pass. We hoped that it would be easier to descend. Peering over the edge we saw very steep snow with some cornices covering the upper 30 feet below the crest of the pass, but the trail was melted out below that. After searching around for a few minutes we found a way to descend through the area of steep snow by carefully working our way around the edge of a rocky outcropping. Once below this crux we quickly scooted down the trail into the basin below.
A well-deserved break was now in order, so we found a nice spot on some smooth rocky slabs for this purpose. Following the break we continued on the scenic trail past Long Lake and other sparkling gems, and wound through a fine basin, past talus fields and interesting fractured cliffs. We met a trio of hikers who told us they were headed over New Army Pass. They did not have any snow climbing equipment along, so we warned them what they were up against.
The trail eventually meandered all the way across the Cottonwood Lakes Basin and descended to the junction where we had been in the morning. I was glad that we did the loop hike over both passes, because it afforded us the opportunity to see more scenic terrain and to experience both routes. The Old Army Pass route was the better of the two, in our opinion, primarily because it was a couple of miles shorter and required less elevation gain.
The last few miles of the trail seemed to stretch on forever, but we finally tramped back to the trailhead at 4:50, almost 13 hours after our departure. We covered a little over 20 miles and climbed 4400 feet of elevation gain on this marathon hike. We eagerly drove back to Lone Pine in anticipation of a fine Mexican dinner awaiting us there.
It felt very rewarding to have accomplished our objective today, given the marginal weather and the magnitude of the feat. Langley is said by some to be the second easiest of California=s 14ers to climb, but it is probably harder than two thirds of Colorado=s 14ers. Pondering this observation gave me a renewed respect for California=s highest peaks.
