MT. RUSSELL
(14,086 ft.)MT. CARILLON
(13,552 ft.)June 30, 2003
By Tim Briese
On Monday morning Brian and I rose at 4 a.m. and drove out of Lone Pine up to the Whitney Portal once again, this time to climb Mt. Russell. I was quite tired from my climbs of Mt. Whitney and Boundary Peak on the two previous days, but summoned the reserves to climb one more day before heading back to Colorado. Mt. Russell, which lies about a mile north of Whitney, was reputed to be a fun and exciting peak to climb, and we looked forward to the challenge.
At 4:50 we headed up the Whitney Trail in the early morning twilight. After three-fourths of a mile we reached the point where the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek crosses the trail and we left the main trail here and followed a rough unmarked trail up along the right (north) side of the creek. This point is the beginning of the Mountaineer’s Route for Whitney, and also of the south slopes route for Russell. (This stream crossing is the second one that is encountered on the Whitney Trail, not counting a very minor drainage a few yards from the trailhead.)
The trail climbed steeply up the canyon through the woods and crossed to the south side of the stream after about a third of a mile. At this point we were treated to a colorful sunrise, and the early morning sunlight soon began to glisten on the granite walls of the canyon above. We met a lone backpacker on the trail who was resting in the warm rays of the sun. The drainage was choked with dense foliage and bushes, making us glad to be on the trail, rough as it was. After another third of a mile we came to a granite headwall that barred easy passage further up the canyon. A direct ascent up the canyon along the creek is supposed to be possible, but that looked like a very difficult alternative to me, especially with the heavy runoff thundering down the creek at this time of year. We identified the Ebersbacher Ledges on the granite face on the north side of the creek that offers the best route around this obstacle. We noted a foxtail pine we had seen in a photo that identifies the lower ledge. The trail took us across to the north side of the stream and up onto the ramp-like lower ledge, which we ascended a hundred yards back to the east to gain access to the upper ledge, which neatly took us back to the west up the canyon for 200 yards or so and delivered us back into the bottom of the drainage, above the difficult section. Well-placed cairns guided us along the way. There was some exposure on the ledges but it was not unreasonable.
This is indeed a remarkable route, and I thought about early mountaineers like John Muir, who bushwhacked up this rugged canyon to climb Mt. Whitney, without the aid of a trail or modern map, and I felt nothing but admiration for their adeptness and fortitude.
Once above this challenging area we continued up the canyon on the trail along the north side of the creek and presently burst out into a beautiful flat basin that holds Lower Boy Scout Lake. This was quite a spectacular place, with high granite walls ringing the basin and the pinnacles of Whitney's south ridge towering above to the west. We crossed to the south side of the stream just below the lake and followed a trail through the woods above its southern shore. We took a short break here but were soon encouraged to move on by swarms of voracious mosquitoes.
The well-cairned route continued past the beautiful lake and climbed steeply out of the basin on blocks of talus on the south side of the drainage. Once above the talus we reached an area where we hiked up across smooth, gently sloping slabs of granite, which reminded me of hiking across slickrock slopes in Utah’s Canyonlands. Sheets of water from the stream flowed smoothly over the granite slabs in some places, which was a most picturesque sight.
The cairned route then crossed to the north side of the drainage and we abruptly found ourselves at the edge of a basin that held Upper Boy Scout Lake, below the towering ramparts of Russell which lay above to the northwest. We did not go quite all the way to the lake but took a break and sat on a broad, smooth rock a hundred yards to the east and studied our route. We identified the scree slopes above to the north that we needed to ascend in order to climb up out of the valley.
We followed a trail that took us to the right around a cliff band up onto the steep gravel-covered slopes above. The loose footing was very poor so we struck off to the right a bit onto a rockier slope in an attempt to find better footing. This was indeed somewhat better, for we were generally able to step on solid rocks and avoid most of the slippery sand and gravel that lay between. The view of Mt. Whitney to the west was spectacular, and became even better as we climbed higher. This portion of the climb was very taxing, as we climbed from 11,300 feet at the lake up to 12,800 feet before the grade finally relented. At this point we were rewarded with a fine view of Mt. Russell and the Russell/Carillon saddle, which was our next goal. The climb from this point to the saddle turned out to be more difficult than it looked because the footing here was also annoyingly loose. This slope was covered with loose gravel that was interspersed with larger rocks. The high slopes of these geologically young mountains are covered with talus and gravel, erosion having not yet had sufficient time to grind down the gravel into soil that will one day nourish flowery tundra meadows, as one finds at similar elevations in Colorado.
At about 11 a.m. we reached the 13,300 foot saddle between Russell and Carillon. The view of Russell’s ridge that stretched away above was quite intimidating. A sharp fin with a precipice on the left and a smooth granite face that dropped sharply away on the right jutted into the sky. There appeared to be no easy passage around it. We proceeded to climb up over talus blocks on the lower part of the ridge, and when the terrain became markedly rougher we elected to leave our trekking poles behind and proceed without them. Presently we engaged a rough spot with incredible exposure on each side that seriously tested our mettle. When we reached the fin we found a convenient crack about five feet wide to climb up through, which made this stretch much more manageable than it had appeared from below. We tediously worked our way along the rugged ridge, dropping below to the north side to get around most of the obstacles that we encountered. The exposure was severe, and while the climbing was at times exhilarating, it more often seemed harrowing to me. Most of the trip reports I read beforehand about this climb painted a picture of a fun and exciting ridge scramble, which it certainly is, but little mention was made of the fact that, depending on the disposition of the climber, it can be nerve-racking and scary, too!
Perhaps the most difficult portion of the ridge was a knife edge that we encountered shortly before reaching the eastern summit. It was not a smooth knife edge like the famous one on Colorado’s Capitol Peak, but a rough and jagged one that barred easy passage along its crest. On the south side was a sheer face that dropped precipitously away several hundred feet, while the north side harbored a smooth granite face that sloped dangerously away at a sharp angle. Fortunately there were convenient cracks in the rocks that afforded nice handholds in the most exposed places. We tested each hold for stability and hoped that nothing would give way. Shortly past the knife ridge we made a sharp scramble up on talus blocks and reached the eastern point on the summit ridge. It felt good to be there, but the higher western summit still lay a rugged 200 yards away. We dropped down along the northern side of the ridge and worked our way across to the true summit, taking about twenty minutes to do so. This part of the ridge scramble turned out to be a little easier than it looked.
We stepped on Russell’s summit at 12:35, a little less than eight hours after we had left the Whitney Portal. We sat on top for over a half hour enjoying the grand views surrounding us. Whitney was a most impressive sight a mile to the south, and we could discern several people standing on its summit. We did not see another soul on the route to Russell today, other than the solitary backpacker early on, which was quite a contrast to the hordes that climb Whitney. The summit register showed that about ten to twenty people a week had been climbing Russell recently, mostly by technical routes. The weather was perfectly clear and calm once again today, without a cloud in the sky, and we were very grateful. This would certainly be a poor place to be in bad weather!
We were a bit uneasy about returning down the rugged ridge, but it turned out to be less harrowing than we expected. After working our way back across to the eastern summit we paused to gaze down at Tulainyo Lake, which was still mostly frozen over in spite of the blazing rays of the summer sun. The lake is said by some to be the highest in the United States, but there are some that are indeed higher (see www.highestlake.com ). At 2:50 we returned to the Russell/Carillon saddle, having consumed nearly three hours on the ridge and summit. We decided to scramble up to the summit of nearby Mt. Carillon, which lay a short distance to the east some 300 feet higher than the saddle, in order to get some nice views of the Russell ridge that we had just been on. I was nearly spent but gamely agreed to do it. We proceeded up gravelly scree in the direction of the summit and went left around a bank of snow up to the west ridge above. This turned out to be the hard way to get to the top, for we had to do some class three scrambling up through some large blocks, whereas a direct ascent of the south slopes would have been easier. Nevertheless, a few minutes later we stepped atop Carillon’s spectacular summit.
The climb was well worth the effort, for the views were spectacular in every direction, especially toward Whitney and Russell to the west. Russell’s ridge looked very dramatic from here, and it was hard to believe we had just climbed it. It was still pleasant and calm, without a single cloud in the deep blue sky.
After a pleasant sojourn on this fine airy perch we began our descent. It was much easier, of course, going back down on the gravelly scree and we made good time. We scooted across the gently descending slopes below the saddle and then made a steep descent of 1500 feet on rocks and scree back down into the North Lone Pine Creek drainage. We went down the scree slope a little to the west of where we had come up several hours before. The footing was more loose here, which was favorable for a descent, but I was glad we had gone up on the rockier and more stable footing to the east.
It felt very good to return to the gentler terrain in the valley, and we sought out a pleasant spot beside the stream to take a refreshing break for a while. We continued down the canyon without incident, but we had to watch closely for cairns to avoid getting off-route in some places where the trail was faint. After we crossed the stream below Lower
Boy Scout Lake I turned back to take one last look at the spectacular basin above. Golden late-day sunlight softly reflected off the canyon walls and filled the basin with glorious grandeur, while the jagged pinnacles of the Whitney Ridge were silhouetted above. It was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. It reminded me of Albert Bierstadt’s famous painting “In the Mountains”. In retrospect, I wish I had taken a photo of this magnificent scene, but at the time I felt that it was too panoramic to fit well enough into a photo frame to do it justice. I will simply have to make do with the memory of it that is indelibly imprinted in my mind.
We nearly missed the cairn that guided us back onto the Ebersbacher Ledges, for tiredness was beginning to take its toll on our powers of observation. As we hiked along the cliffy ledges I was alarmed a time or two when I heard Brian’s boots slide a bit in the gravel behind me, for the precipice was no more than a yard or two away, but we negotiated this stretch safely. When we reached the drainage below the ledges we briefly got off-route along the stream for five minutes or so and thrashed through the bushes before regaining the trail. This brief bushwhack gave us a renewed appreciation for the trail, crude as it was. Shadows filled the valley by the time we reached the highway-like Whitney Trail, and we quickly hiked back down to the Whitney Portal, where we arrived at 7:20.
The descent from Carillon to the Portal took about three and a half hours, and the entire climb took us a long fourteen and a half hours. I estimated that we covered about eleven miles and climbed 6400 feet of elevation gain on this grueling outing. It was a spectacular and rewarding climb, and a great deal of fun, but I would have to rank it as one of the hardest climbs I’ve ever done, perhaps more difficult than any of Colorado’s fourteeners.
It felt very good to get off my feet, for in three rugged days of climbing I hiked about 40 miles and climbed over 18,000 feet of elevation gain. These three days were an adventure I would never forget, for I was deeply impressed by the spectacular grandeur of the rugged Sierra Nevada.
