Thunderbolt to Sill, plus Mount Agassiz
This was a big one. Leo and I first talked about Thunderbolt to Sill, a traverse of five of Californiaâs 14ers, two years ago when we did a 2-week long road trip along the Eastern Sierra ~five months into us dating. I wasnât a strong climber at the time. Leo wasnât as much of a slogger and didnât have as much alpine experience. We rightfully decided the traverse was probably above our pay grade, so decided to save it for another time. We still nabbed Sill via the Swiss Arete, an awesome climb and Leoâs first 14er. I remember being on the summit and staring at the rest of the peaks on the traverse, thinking how nuts it looked.
Now in 2018, in ~February/March, I went on a permit booking spree, dreaming up big goals for the summer, and this was the obvious choice. I booked a permit for a weekend in August and prayed weâd have good weather and that Iâd be up to the challenge. As summer came, I got in several long backcountry climbs, from East Buttress on Whitney and Fishhook on Russell, to the Saber Ridge deep in SEKI. In the weeks prior to our Thunderbolt to Sill weekend, I did some long climbs in Canada with my friend Marco which had me feeling strong and in decent shape. The biggest open question (well, aside from all my nerves and self-doubt) was the weather. The Sierra weather had been full of storms all summer, severe enough to damage many trails and even close some roads because of mudslides. Weâve also had really bad smoke for much of the summer, with fires raging all over the state, bad enough to even close Sierra passes. But, as the week came, Leo and I were beyond thankful to see that the storms seemed to stop just days before our trip, giving us a perfect weather window, and the major fires near the Sierra started to be contained.
Thunderbolt to Sill is not something you want to do if thereâs any chance of thunderstorms. Well, at least for a mortal like me. In my research, I saw people doing the traverse in as few as three hours. I also saw many trip reports with people bivying in the middle of the ridge, spending a night up there. I really didnât have a great sense of how long the traverse might take us. It seemed not crazy to think we could do it in as few as 15 hours, but I didnât want to get cocky and knew we had to be prepared for it to take much longer.
We drove from the bay area to the east entrance of Yosemite Thursday night, sleeping off the side of the road up high. I was happy to have a bit extra acclimatization and to not feel rushed getting to the east side. We worked remotely Friday, finished packing, and slept up near the Buttermilks. It was so warm out that we watch a movie out in the open in the bed of our truck before calling it a night. We set the alarm for 7am and drove up to South Lake to take the Bishop Pass trail. The parking lot was totally full, but we managed to squeeze in on the side of the road, which saved us what would have been an extra mile of road walking.
By the time we were ready to go, the parking lot was bustling with people. Itâs always so surprising to be around so many people when youâre headed out to do a remote climb. For our gear for the trip, we tried to keep it pretty minimal. In terms of climbing gear, we brought:
Two Arcteryx climbing harnesses
Moccasym climbing shoes for Leo
A set of offset nuts (which we didnât expect to use, but wanted as insurance)
Four slings, each with a non-locking carabiner
Two megajul belay devices
Two prusiks (critical because of the very skinny rope)
We set off on the Bishop Pass trail a bit after 8am. Progress went quickly. Even though Iâve been up this trail five times before already, I still am always in awe of how beautiful this area is. We stopped for a short snack break about halfway to the pass, and then continued up, finding ourselves at the top of the pass just before 11am. Given how early it was, Leo and I decided to tag Mount Agassiz on our way to camp. Mount Agassiz lies just 2k feet above Bishop Pass, right along the route to our basecamp. I had failed at climbing Mount Agassiz twice before. I made the mistake the first time with Leo, when we tried to climb it Memorial Day weekend in 2016 and only left the trailhead at 5am, making it to the snow on Agassizâs slopes too late in the day. We bailed as were miserably post-holing up the side of the mountain, barely making progress, and storm clouds were coming in. The genius that I am was so enamored with the idea of climbing Agassiz in the snow that I made the exact same mistake, again trying to climb Agassiz over Memorial Day weekend in 2018, once again leaving the car at 5am. Way to go, me.
Views of Agassiz on the approach.
We dropped our packs at Agassizâs base, putting some food and water into a flashpack I had with me, and started up one of the chutes on Agassizâs northwest face. Progress goes much faster when youâre able to scramble up class two rock rather than post-holing through melting snow. The base was a bit sandy and loose, but as we got higher up the rock felt more secure. Agassiz is the 21st tallest peak in California, 13,893ft. We both could feel the altitude as we trudged up what we thought was very slowly, but it only took us 1.5 hours from the base to the summit.
Views of our objectives for the next day!
Near the summit, we met another party of two who were also planning to climb something near Mount Goode the next day and did Agassiz as a warm up. It was so nice out that I didnât even put a layer on at the summit. We took in the views, ate our lunches, and headed back down, making it to our packs by ~2:30pm. I was pretty excited to have already nabbed a bonus peak (particularly one that had been on my grudge list) so early in the trip.
We repacked our packs and started the cross country slog to Thunderbolt Pass, our planned base camp. There isnât much elevation gain between the base of Agassiz and Thunderbolt Pass, but we contoured along the side of Agassiz so as to not lose elevation. There was still plenty of ups and downs, and the terrain was pretty talus-y at times. Not exactly fun. The pass was only ~1.5mi from Agassiz, but it still took us close to two hours to make it there. About half a mile before the pass, we met a party of four who was camped. They had just climbed Thunderbolt that day and were relaxing in the sun, enjoying the many beers they had lugged up with them. We chatted with them for a little while as we filled water before continuing on our way. They had taken the first chute up Thunderbolt, which is the standard route from Thunderbolt Pass. We had been planning to take the second chute, because we had read some conditions reports that the recent rains had left some huge boulders in precarious spots. They didnât mention anything about that, which I took note of.
The last bit of slog to Thunderbolt Pass. Ick.
The last half mile to the pass was through a pretty miserable boulder field. I was so happy when we finally made it to the pass and it was over. We had originally planned to camp ~400ft down on the far side of the pass, since that is the nearest water. But we saw there were at least a dozen campsites much higher up near the pass. We made the call to camp near the pass, rather than down near the water, so we wouldnât have to lug all our gear down there and we could shorten our approach to Thunderbolt in the dark in the morning.
Home sweet home at 12,300ft.
We set up the tent and our sleeping gear, and then headed down to fetch water. We saw a tent near the stream we planned to fill at, and wondered whether weâd see its occupants. Sure enough, as we sat down to fill our containers, they showed up. It seemed to be a guide and a client. They had climbed Polemonium and Sill that day. We pried a bit for beta, getting the guideâs opinion on first chute up Thunderbolt, and one of our possible descent options. The guide said theyâd been up the first chute two days before and seemed really casual about it, not mentioning any additional hazards. We thanked him for the beta and slogged back up to camp.
The view of southwest chute #1 from camp.
I hadnât felt too miserable the first time we arrived at camp, but after this additional short trip, I was really feeling it. As we waited for our dinner to cook, I did a bunch of stretching to hopefully not be too sore for the following day. We ate, went up to the pass to watch the sunset, and then got into bed. I bundled up into all my layers, expecting it to be very cold since we were sleeping above 12k feet. But as the night went on, I periodically woke up too warm and would take one layer off at a time.
Leo chilling at the pass, taking in the sunset. Thunderbolt behind.
We had set the alarm for 4:15am. Around 3:30am, I woke up and couldnât fall back asleep, because I was so nervous about what was to come. This often happens to me before big climbs. For once, it came in handy though. Turns out Leo hadnât saved the alarm when setting it the night before. I looked at my watch and saw it was 4:18am, and woke Leo. It was time to get going.
We dressed, made breakfast, and put our food in our packs. When I got back to camp after going to the bathroom, Leo told me had a problem: the tube of his water bladder had broken. With no real opportunity to fill water on the whole ridge, having plenty of water with us was non-negotiable. We pulled out some leukotape and taped the opening of the bladder, hoping it would be enough to get through the day.
We put on our headlamps and started towards Thunderbolt. The night before, we decided to switch to the first chute instead of the second, since it was closer to camp, and both parties weâd met had seemed to think it was okay. The chute is only a couple hundred feet from camp, which we definitely appreciated in the dark, so that we wouldnât get lost. The chute is definitely loose, as advertised. We headed up until we reached the chockstone described in the SummitPost beta. I had misremembered the beta for this section, we lost maybe 15 minutes looking for the class 3 way around the chockstone. Turns out itâs actually ~30 feet below the chockstone on the right, and we had walked right past it. It felt great to be out of the chute on much more solid rock. After a couple hundred feet of gain, we found ourselves back in the loose chute, but it was much easier to stick to solid rock on the sides at this point.
We reached the top of the chute around 7am, feeling the sun on our skin for the first time, always a joyous feeling during an alpine start. We headed up the class 4 climbing (which was cruiser and fun) to get to the base of the summit block. And there we were! At the climbing crux of the day, as Iâd seen in so many photos and videos leading up to this trip. The summit block of Thunderbolt is only 15ft tall, but itâs 5.9. And by 5.9 I mean unprotectable fall-and-you-die 5.9. Enter Leo. :) I promise I donât only bring him around to lead the scary stuff. I also bring him around because he carries the heavy gear.
Leo prepping for the summit block. Summit register bolted at the top!
We pulled out the rope and our climbing shoes. Leo tied one of our cordelettes around a large boulder, to at least keep us attached to the mountain in the event of a fall. Leo sadly took off his shoes and socks, feeling the cold as he put on his climbing shoes. As I belayed him, I remarked, âI wish I could also film this!â Leo said back to me, âYou probably could, itâs not like your belay is doing anything.â The whole climb took Leo probably about one minute, and then he was on top! Looking back, I wish I had taken more photos. I just felt like we had to go, go, go all day (which was true), but this is really a unique spot, and we should have taken more time to enjoy it.
My belay finally became useful as I lowered Leo (youâre welcome). It was my turn to have my feet be freezing at 7:30am at 14,000ft. With Leoâs belay assist, I made it to the top more easily than I expected. The climbing isnât easy, but there were more holds than I had anticipated. One peak down! The register is bolted to the top of the summit block, so I signed for both of us before Leo lowered me back down. We packed up our gear and got ready to go. This was the only time either of us wore our climbing shoes for the whole traverse. Oof.
Me on Thunderbolt. I was in such a rush I forgot to take a cool standing pic. :(
We left the summit of Thunderbolt around 7:40am. The next peak on the traverse is Starlight. We checked the beta we had with us, and started to descend to the notch between the two peaks. We downclimbed what we believe was the fourth class chimney system, until we made it to the slabs. On the slabs, we stopped and took a look at what lay before us, trying to identify the route before we were too up close to it. We crossed the notch and started climbing up, trying as much as possible to stay to the ridge. We came to some giant rock walls, uncertain of where to go. We explored both sides of the ridge, settling on the right side. We walked along some very flat, sidewalk-width rocks on the right side of the ridge, below huge walls to our left. I was convinced this wouldnât go and we were lost, but Leo managed to find a squeeze-ramp type feature. It was pretty steep, but managed to go. The top of it became a chimney, which was definitely fifth class. After Leo soloed up, he saw a very solid rappel anchor, so he pulled out the rope and belayed me up using the anchor. I was glad to have the rope, and definitely weighted it once while trying to figure out the moves. This was one of two times on the entire traverse that Leo belayed me (aside from the two fifth class summit blocks). From there, we had some more high class scrambling until we reached the milk bottle, the summit block of Starlight.
Looking to Starlight from Thunderbolt.
Descending the slabs just before the notch between the two peaks.
With this summit block only being 5.4, Leo opted to lead it in his approach shoes. We again pulled out the rope, and Leo once again quickly made it to the top. While he climbed, our rope fell off the ledge it had been sitting on maybe 40 ft down a hole between the rocks. I tried to pull it up, but it was caught on something. As Leo chilled out on the summit block, I managed to scramble down and free it. For those two minutes, I was really nervous, uncertain how weâd get down safely without a rope. Thankfully, it was not an issue we had to deal with. I scrambled back up and then lowered Leo back down to the ledge. I also opted to climb this block in approach shoes, and had no trouble (thanks for the tight belay, Leo!). Back down on the ledge, two peaks down, three to go! We started on to the next peak around 9:45am.
Starlight summit success!
From the summit of Starlight, I crawled through a narrow opening along the ridge, while Leo scrambled up and over. We continued along the ridge, trying to find the simplest way down. We eventually came to the notch between Starlight and North Palisade. This notch has a big gap, which isnât easy to climb or jump. There was a rap station above it, so we pulled out the rope. Leo rappelled first, and had to swing over the gap to the other side before going off rappel. I rappelled next, and had zero grace in trying to get across the gap. I wish a third person had been there to get a video of this, it must have looked so ridiculous. Iâd push off the wall, trying to swing across the gap, while Leo pulled me in as hard as he possibly could. This failed the first two or three times, as I could not get my butt or feet or anything on the ledge on the other side of the gap. Finally, with our teamwork, I managed to get across. I also bring Leo around to pull me in after rappels, apparently.
Looking back down at the very awkward rappel from the other side.
We put the rope away and continued scrambling. I think we did not find the easiest way up North Pal, by any means. We scrambled mostly on the left side of the ridge, trying to find a way up. We didnât have a great view of what was above us, so we couldnât tell if going up was even the right way to go at times. We eventually found a chimney that exited onto an airy arete. Leo again soloed this, and opted to pull the rope out for me, the second and last time heâd belay me (aside from the two fifth class summit blocks). He slung a huge boulder with a cordelette, and tossed down one end of the rope. I was definitely glad to be on belay for this. It was not something I could have soloed. As Leo coiled the rope, I continued the route finding, down-climbing five feet to get to a squeeze ramp that then led to the summit! This was the only peak of the whole traverse that I summited before Leo, and it was just because I left him with the gear. Thanks Leo!
North Pal summit selfie. 3/5 down!
Sitting on top of North Pal, I was feeling really content. Even if we somehow next got lost and couldnât finish the traverse, it still felt so cool to have done three new 14ers all in one day. So many people opt to do just one of these peaks in a day: but we didnât plan on trying for just three, so it was on to the next. We left the summit of North Pal around 11:15am, and found a rap on the south side of the summit. It looked like we could potentially downclimb from here, but we figured weâd just do the rappel. This dropped us into a small bowl that had probably the best bivy sites weâd seen on the entire ridge traverse thus far.
After a bit more downclimbing, we contoured along the ridge, able to stay at the same elevation all the way around the bowl until we fell in-line with the ridge once again. We travered on the left side of the ridge, and then back to the right before finding some more rappel stations. We did four rappels and found ourselves in the U-notch. It was possible that we could have again downclimbed these, but I think we were both happy to get a little rest while rappelling rather than downclimbing. The right side, towards the west, of the U-notch looked like a sandy, miserable chute. I checked it out, knowing this is often used as a descent option to get back to where we had camped. We were still undecided about how weâd come down.
Me route-finding from North Pal to the U-notch.
From the U-notch, the description was pretty spot on. We went up some exposed fourth/low fifth class directly from the top of the notch, traversing right until we reached a ridge once again. Here again there was some more exposed fourth class/low fifth class, but it was short, and we quickly found ourselves on the summit. The fourth peak of the day! And the last new summit for us of the trip.
It was around 1pm as we topped out on Polemonium. We again took another rest as I perused the summit register. I was feeling really beat. The fact that weâd already climbed Sill before left me with very little motivation. Plus, if we climbed Sill, weâd have a much longer slog back to camp. I was entirely open to going back down Polemonium to the U-notch so we could get back to camp early. I even wrote in the register that I didnât know if weâd continue, and youâd have to climb to Sill to see if we did. But, Leo was not having it. No way was he going to stop at this point, so on to Sill it was.
Looking back from Polemonium to North Pal, Starlight, and Thunderbolt.
Leaving Polemonium, there was some more fourth class to get off the summit and lower down. After five or ten minutes though, we found ourselves moving quickly over class two terrain. It felt nice to be away from exposure and able to move more quickly (despite the fact that the direction we were moving quickly was away from our camp). I was thrilled when we reached the point where we could drop our packs. I finally took off my harness, which Iâd been wearing all day. For our last scramble up to the summit, Leo carried my flash pack with some water and snacks, so we could leave the rest of the gear. It felt amazing to scramble without a pack (thanks Leo!). And soon enough, we were on the summit of Sill, traverse completed!
The ultimate summit selfie. :)
We had read some conditions reports that Sill was currently missing a summit register, which we found to be true. We had brought a nalgene with us, along with a small notebook and two pens, to leave at the summit. We sat down to rest once again while we readied the register. I ate a packet of peanut M&Ms (when you do a traverse of five peaks, which summit do you eat your summit treat on!?) for some easy energy that I could keep down. I was definitely low energy, but I had no zero appetite. We took many celebratory selfies, and eventually I ran out of things I âneededâ to do on the summit to delay the impending slog back to camp.
Our six summit register signatures in order from the trip!
We decided to take the long way back around, towards Potluck Pass, rather than re-summiting Polemonium and heading down the U-notch. And so, at 3pm we began our descent. It took just under 30 minutes to make it back to our packs. For this type of terrain, Iâm not much faster heading downhill vs uphill, since Iâm paranoid of rolling my very weak ankles. We headed south down the bowl between Sill and Polemonium until we reached the bottom, and then headed along the west edge of the bowl. Rather than taking the bottom of the drainage all the way around to Potluck Pass, we cut over the hillside. This saved us some distance, but I suspect it didnât save us much time.
As we came around the ridge, we had the choice of dropping down to the west, where the drainage becomes flatter, or contouring along the slopes of the Palisades crest to keep our elevation all the way to camp. If we did the former, weâd have a long section of uphill at the end to make it back to camp, which sounded miserable to both of us. So, we opted to contour the entire way. It was a miserable talus slog that we suspect was worse in the end. If I had to do it again, Iâd take the low route.
Camp was only a mile away in a straight line, but it took ages to traverse. As we neared camp, Leo so graciously offered to split off, to head down to the water source for us, while Iâd continue on to camp. I had absolutely no energy to fetch water, and would have instead made the 2L we had waiting for us at camp work. But, Leo is great like that. We split off to do the last section solo. I knew I had to keep moving, because Iâd be mortified if Leo somehow made it back to camp before me. Thankfully, that wasnât the case. I was able to have my gear unpacked and our dinners rehydrating before Leo made it back to camp (though he made it back maybe only 10 mins after me). All in all, from the top of Sill back to camp took us 4hr 45mins. We took essentially zero stops in that time.
We finally turned on our head lamps as we ate our dinner. We had made excellent use of the daylight, and our timing worked out perfectly. Having to do any of the slog back to camp in the dark would have been challenging and miserable. I was in bed at 8:40pm, thrilled about what weâd accomplished. I was so tired, but also so excited about having achieved this goal.
We slept from ~9pm to 6:30am, waking up with the late and not feeling too sore. We leisurely made breakfast and packed up, still being ready to go by 7:40am. It was really nice knowing the most miserable part of the hike out would be the first part, and then it would be behind us. It took us about 2 hrs to get from our camp back to the trail, with no breaks. This was about the same amount of time it had taken us to get to Thunderbolt Pass from the trail. Slow terrain is slow in both directions.
Once we were at the trail, it was a cruiser walk out, though we were both feeling ready to be done by the end. We were back at the car around 11:50am, quickly changed and headed to Bishop for some well-earned celebratory burgers. Itâs always nice when you hike out early enough in the day to not feel rushed at all about getting home.
Looking down from Bishop Pass.
All in all, we couldnât have had better conditions. We spent nearly the whole day of our climb above 14,000 ft, and never wore more than our base-layers after 8am. The air quality was totally fine, and the skies were nothing but clear. We saw no one our whole traverse day except for one person on Sill when we were just leaving Polemonium, very thankful to have no one to drop rocks on us. We were shocked that on such a perfect weekend, there was no one else doing this amazing climb.
Now hereâs time for the mushy Leo part. This climb felt so daunting and scary to me, and I wouldnât have felt comfortable trying it with pretty much anyone other than Leo. When Iâm scared, he asks how he can help. He pretty much always knows when Iâll want a belay, always a step ahead of me with the rope. He never makes me feel bad if Iâm not comfortable solo-ing the terrain he just cruised up. Not once has he ever complained that I descend talus at least twice as slowly as he does. And when Iâm not sure if I have the skills, he reassures me that I can do it. Thank you Leo. Now I can think of the next big slog we can do together. :) End mushiness.
