#mountritter

[ayeletinthemountains]

Mount Ritter

7/30/16 — 7/31/16

Just three weeks after my first attempt, I was back out in Ansel Adams Wilderness to give Ritter or Banner another attempt. I had made a new friend, Emily, by randomly messaging her after seeing her posts about Sierra Mountaineering Club, the mountaineering club we’re both members of. After meeting over lunch the previous Friday at her office, the next Friday we were already headed off to the Sierra together.

We took my car, which had finally been returned to me after being stolen and then repaired, leaving San Francisco around 5pm. We stopped for dinner at Chipotle in Manteca, and then finished the drive to Tioga Pass. After seeing how many people were partying on Saddlebag Lake road, we instead opted to camp at Camp 9. I threw down my tarp to go to sleep, while Emily chose to sleep in the passenger seat. I was amazed that she was able to do that, and found it to be pretty funny. In the morning, she didn’t even have to get out of the car — she just put her seatbelt on was we drove down for a quick bathroom break at the Mobil in Lee Vining. We had gotten up around 5:30am, and made it to the Devil’s Postpile entrance around 6:45am, making sure we were there before the road closed at 7am.

At the trailhead, we took some time to pack up and figure out gear, and then headed out. There were chances of afternoon thunderstorms for both Saturday and Sunday that weekend, so we knew we had to be mindful of those. Still, if the conditions looked okay when we got to camp, we hoped to bag one of the peaks that afternoon, taking advantage of any good weather we could get.

Ritter and Banner on the hike in. (All photos by Emily).

The hike in was beautiful, though I had a slightly lower level of awe since I had been here so recently. Heading up the exposed section towards the outlet of Shadow Lake, we started chatting with another hiker coming down, asking him about mosquitoes. He said they were still pretty bad, which I hadn’t been counting on. I mentioned to Emily that I hadn’t brought any repellant or mosquito net, and the hiker immediately offered us his, very generously, since he was hiking out. Three weeks prior, I actually got a free map from some kind hikers in this same section, so I’ll know always refer to this area as “climb of free stuff”. Or something like that. The only other notable thing that happened on the hike in was that when crossing the outlet of Lake Ediza, I nearly fell in. Even though three weeks had passed, the water level and strength of current had been just as strong as my last visit, though this time I hadn’t brought trekking poles. Thankfully, my hands caught me and only my pants got wet. Emily was able to walk through on a fully submerged log, given that she’d worn her mountaineering boots and had her trekking poles with her.

Crossing the Lake Ediza outlet.

It wasn’t too much longer until we were headed up the same use trail I had found on my last visit up to the tarn below Ritter and Banner. In the bowl below the peaks, it was a bit easier to find a campsite this time, since more of the area had dried out (though it was still very rocky). Emily and I took our time setting up her tent, in case the afternoon storms did indeed happen. After a snack break, it was finally about noon. Just as we were ready to head up, we saw clouds peaking out from behind Ritter and Banner. Sigh. We discussed what we should do. At this point, the clouds looked pretty fluffy and tame, but since they were coming from the other side of the mountain, we weren’t sure just exactly what might be looming, waiting for us. We decided that we could start hiking up a bit, and then bail if necessary.

Ritter and Banner from camp, with clouds showing up.

We had seen a couple people coming down, so after chatting with them about their route, we started to head up. Every few minutes, we looked up at the sky, noticing that more and more clouds were visible. We must have only gone up for 15 or 20 minutes before the clouds started to become worrisome. We sat on a grassy ledge a couple hundred feet above camp and discussed what to do. Sure, there was a good chance it would be fine, but we both agreed it wasn’t worth it to risk it, and we decided that we’d head back down.

Throughout the course of the day, we must have talk with maybe three or four more parties coming down the mountain, trying to get a bit more beta from everyone who came by our camp. By the end of it, I felt like we were more than prepared for Ritter, since everyone we chatted with had been doing Ritter. We didn’t meet a single person who had attempted Banner. Banner definitely looked to be a slog. A bunch of the snow had melted out from three weeks before, leaving just a big chute of scree to make it up towards the Ritter/Banner saddle.

Emily and I spent the rest of the afternoon napping in camp and hanging out. We had a lot of time on our hands, so I also got in a bit of reading. As the evening came on, Emily busted out her DSLR and took a bunch of beautiful photos. This was something I had been excited for — I had seen a bunch of her photography online, and was excited to get to see all the edited pictures after the trip. Over the course of the afternoon and evening, we debated what we should plan for the next day. I was very tempted to attempt both Ritter and Banner, but I knew this might not be possible given the chance of storms. Emily had already climbed Banner, so it would have sucked to climb Banner first, and then realize we had to bail. On the other hand, if we were to climb both, doing Banner first is the best way to do it, because of the couloir we’d need to climb or down climb from the Ritter/Banner saddle.

Sunset light at camp.

While we pondered this, I looked back on my photos from three weeks prior, and I was able to compare just how much the snow had melted out. I realized that if we were to attempt Banner, it would be a beyond miserable scree slog, so I figured it was best to just attempt Ritter. It would be a more fun day, it would get us home much earlier, we’d be reducing any danger of getting stuck in a thunderstorm, and we’d have high chances of bagging a new peak for both of us.

We set the alarm for 5am and went to bed. Without the constant 40mph winds of the last trip, I slept much better this time around. Still, at 5am, neither of us were particularly enthusiastic about getting up. We had a pretty slow morning, and didn’t end up hiking until close to 6am. Headlamps definitely weren’t necessary by then. It was definitely hazy — something it hadn’t been the day before, but there definitely wasn’t enough smoke to be a concern. We headed out and up the slopes we had briefly explored the day before, headed towards a snowfield we had picked out the day before, which seemed like a reasonable way up.

First light hitting the peaks.

Looking back towards the hazy sunrise.

The hiking was first straightforward up the slopes, and then became more interesting scrambling. As the sun came up, the mountains turned a beautiful orange. Emily took tons of awesome photos. It felt like her pace while taking photos was only slightly slower than my pace while not taking photos, so that worked out wonderfully. We were pretty easily able to pick a route the whole way up until we reached the south east glacier.

Headed up the southeast glacier.

At this point, we pulled out the route description to confirm the next part. We easily found the northern facing chute and made our way across the snow field to it. The snow didn’t go up too far, so it wasn’t too long before we were on scree and sand. Even up the chute at such high elevations, there were still gorgeous streams everywhere. The chute had some better scrambling at some points, but it was still sandy and full of talus towards the top. It was great to finally see the summit at the top of the chute. Now that I could see the remainder of the route, I saw there were no more snowfields I needed to cross, so I dumped my crampons for the last 800 feet up to the summit. The higher we got, the more boulder-hopping/scrambling it became, which was a nice way to reach the summit.

At the top, I could finally see the route up to Banner, and I was definitely happy with my decision not to attempt it. There was basically no snow, and it looked like a miserable slog to the top. Emily took a bunch of photos, of course, and I munched on some early lunch. After looking through the register and a bit more of a break, we headed back down.

View of the Minarets from the summit.

Summit selfie.

Taking serious advantage of all the photos Emily took of me...

The route back down was pretty straightforward, retracing our steps. I tried to glissade here and there, but the suncups made it pretty uncomfortable. As we neared the bottom, I noticed that one of the laces had fully broken through on my deteriorating boots, which meant I had to hike the remaining 9 miles out with a loose boot. Back at camp, we were excited to be back on the trail part of the hike. We packed up and started back down the use trail towards Lake Ediza. After my near fall in the outlet of the lake the day before, we opted to go around the southern side of the lake instead of the north, where the crossing is easier.

Headed back down towards the chute.

From there, it was a long trudge back to the trailhead, doing the same hike I had done 3 weeks before. I definitely felt pretty beat by the time we made it back. I threw my hiking boots out at the trailhead, which felt amazing. From there, it was a mad dash trying to make it to Priest Station before it closed. We made it around 8:15pm, with 15 minutes to spare. I ran into my friend Marco as we sat down, and he was heading out, which was nice. He’s a climber (not a peak-bagger), so when we briefly swapped weekend stories, he had pretty much no idea what I was talking about. After a good meal, we finished up the drive home.

[ayeletinthemountains]

Mount Ritter & Banner Peak (Both Failed)

7/9/16 - 7/10/16

Ritter and Banner had been on the list for a little while now, and I had been itching to give them a shot. I had talked about them with my friend Kao in the summer of 2015, but we knew we’d had to wait until 2016 so that we could go early in summer, when there was more snow. Around May/June, we resumed these talks and settled on a weekend to hopefully take them on. The tough part logistically is that we wanted to wait until Minaret Road opened, so that we wouldn’t have to add an additional 3mi to the trailhead (with tons of gain on the return), which means we’d had to wait until late June. I was also going to be in Israel until July 5th, so that left us aiming for the second weekend of July.

A couple months before our planned date, a friend Kyle introduced me to his friend Ellise, telling us both that we had to meet, since we were both “awesome” and wanted outdoor partners. Kyle was definitely right about Ellise — and after meeting her over dinner one night in the city, I was excited to invite her along on this trip.

The three of us met in San Francisco on Friday evening, leaving the city around 6:30pm in Ellise’s new Subaru. We stopped on the drive for dinner at Chipotle in Manteca, and made it to Tioga Pass for the night around midnight. We stealth camped off Saddlebag Lake road, getting a pretty good rest for the night. The plan had been to only do the hike in on Saturday, so we weren’t in a huge rush when waking up. We stopped at the Mobil in Lee Vining for a quick pit stop, and then parked our car by the main lodge in Mammoth, taking the Devils Postpile shuttle down to the Agnew Meadows trailhead, since the road was already closed.

Views of Ritter and Banner from Shadow Lake.

Pretty much immediately after stepping off the bus, the mosquitos appeared — which was to be expected early season, but still disappointing. It was then that I learned that Kao and Ellise hadn’t heeded my warning to bring face mosquito nets, so I looked the dorkiest by far, pulling mine out. We got a move on, so as to make it a bit harder for the mosquitos, and started down the River Trail towards Shadow Lake.

The trail heads by Agnew Meadow, and then through the forest for a little while before descending down the valley. A heartbreaking start, losing a few hundred feet, but so it goes. From there, the trail continues through the valley for a while before crossing the San Joaquin River, and then immediately starting back up the other side of the valley. This was our first section of uphill, and I definitely felt that I wasn’t in as great of shape as I’d like for a trip like this. I sat down briefly to take off my pack and grab my hat, and then continued up. Until this point, I’d had our maps and printed out route descriptions folded up in my pants pocket, but a few minutes later, I realized they were gone. Not exactly ideal. These were new hiking pants (my first time wearing them), and they didn’t have zip pockets. I told Kao I’d go back and get the map, thinking it must have been where I had sat down, a few minutes back down the trail. I dropped my pack and hiked back down.

As I searched the area where I had sat down, two women came upon me and asked if I was looking for something. I told them I’d dropped our map, but I was certain it must be around here somewhere. They helped me search a little, but we had no luck. We chatted and they asked me about our plans, and then insisted that I take their Tom Harrison map of the area, since they were hiking out. I told them I couldn’t do that — those are nice maps and cost $10 a piece. But, they insisted, telling me I should pay it forward. If either of them ever come along this blog post again, a huge thank you!

I hiked back up the trail and told Kao and Ellise what happened, and then we continued up. Soon enough, some waterfalls from the outlet of Shadow Lake came into view, full of water. Just a few minutes after that, we arrived at to Shadow Lake. Feeling like we had all the time in the world, already nearly half way done with the approach, we stopped on some rocks by the lake for a snack. The snack then turned into a nice long nap… In all, the break itself must have been an hour or more — something I rarely do these days. All rested and ready to go, we got back on the trail, headed towards Lake Ediza.

Shadow Creek crossing.

The next few miles of trail were beautiful, mostly paralleling Shadow Creek, which was full of water. It made the going quite enjoyable, and before long we found ourselves at Lake Ediza. Here, we took another snack break, enjoying the extra time on our hands. From here, we’d finally get off maintained trails. We had to cross the outlet of Ediza Lake and cross around the north side of the lake. Being early in the season, the water levels were, and the current was strong at the outlet. We all took off our boots, nervous to attempt the crossing. I had trekking poles, which definitely made it a bit easier. For Kao and Ellise, who didn’t have trekking poles, a friendly swimmer nearby came over and escorted them across, giving each of them a hand (literally). Back on land, we put our boots back on and hiked around the north side of the lake.

Kao crossing the outlet.

At the west end, we started to look for a route to make it up to the bench below Ritter and Banner, where we’d planned to camp for the night. Kao was in the lead, following a use trail. I figured we’d have to abandon it at some point and set out cross country, but, miraculously, it took us the entire way to the bench. I was thrilled. Who wants to deal with bush-whacking and route-finding when there’s a far easier alternative?

The bench below Ritter and Banner definitely feels like it’s in the alpine. There are no trees, and very little vegetation. The area is very rocky, making it hard to find a good spot to camp. We must have searched for at least ten minutes before finally finding a reasonable spot, though it was far from great. We set up the Z-Packs tent I’d borrowed from Leo for Ellise and me, while Kao found a nearby spot more sheltered from the wind to set up his bivy spot. The wind had definitely been going all day, which had been a relief, because of the respite it gave us from the mosquitoes.

Tons of water everywhere on the hike up to the bench.

It was still somewhat early, so we relaxed a little, staring at the route and discussing our plan for the next day. As we were staring at it, we saw someone descending just below the couloir up to the Ritter-Banner saddle, which was more than surprising to see this late in the day. We watched him for quite some time, eager to see his route and to ask him for any beta once he finally got done. As we were waiting, we put on our crampons and pulled out our axes to do some self-arrest practice. Ellise had worn crampons before, but only on a grassy hill, so we wanted to do some explanation for the next day. As we walked over to the snow, we finally encountered the lone climber we had been watching. This guy seemed like an interesting character. He was out here solo, with no crampons. He had done Ritter the day before solo, and Banner that day — but only having started from camp at 11am. He was wearing tennis shoes, and seemed to not think much of the route, slow to answer questions and not changing his expression much throughout. It was definitely after 6pm by now, but he still planned to hike out, seeming very casual about the whole thing. We thanked him for the info (especially given that I’d lost our route descriptions) and said our goodbyes.

Ritter and Banner just before reaching the bench.

From there, we spent 15 minutes going over the basic steps you can do in crampons, and talked about self-arresting and glissading. She seemed to catch on quick, and I figured she’d be fine, given her experience as a rock climber. We headed back to camp, made dinner on Kao’s stove (which isn’t exactly the most efficient one I’ve seen), and got into bed. While it had been windy all day, the wind had picked up a lot more by now, and I was eager to get in bed. It was a bit after 8pm by now, and we planned to get up at 5am.

Practice on the snow.

Kao boiling water at camp.

The Z-Packs tent is a pretty loud tent in wind, flapping around tons with a crinkly material. It made it hard to rest, with all the noise, but I figured the wind would die down eventually. Sure, there has been wind in the forecast, but nothing crazy. So, I did my best to sleep, having faith that it would calm. Well, that didn’t happen. The winds stayed crazy literally the whole night. I barely slept, maybe a few hours across the 9 hours I was in bed. I just kept waiting for the tent to collapse on us. Around 4:30am, one of the stakes finally came out, so I crawled out of the tent to stick it back in (since I was most definitely awake, nervous about how the heck I was going to climb these tough mountains on little to no sleep), and I looked up at the peaks. I was shocked to see that they were completely covered in clouds.

This was not your typical Sierra weather. Typical Sierra weather has clear mornings, with afternoon clouds. But you can almost always count on a clear morning in summer. So, I was pretty taken aback when I saw the sight before me. Even though it was before sunrise, it was still beyond clear that the peaks were covered, and the clouds were pretty ominous. I got back in the tent, and tried to rest until 5am. When the alarms went off, Ellise and I chatted, and she shared my experience of the night — little to no sleep. I told her what I had seen outside, and she didn’t like the look of it either. I really didn’t want to get out of my warm sleeping bag and go out in the cold wind to talk to Kao, so we decided to wait until 5:30am before chatting with him. Well, about 10 minutes later, the tent finally collapsed, so I figured I might as well get up and go chat with Kao.

Ritter and Banner covered in clouds.

He’d definitely slept a bit better than us, not having been stuck in an incredibly loud tent all night. He also didn’t feel great about the clouds, so we agreed we’d wait an hour and see if they passed — because we weren’t going up in those clouds (in addition to the crazy 40mph winds). I went back to the tent, and Ellise and I just threw our sleeping bags on top, rather than setting it up again. The next hour was so much better — we should have done this hours ago — I was actually finally able to sleep. After an hour or so, I woke up and saw the first rays hitting the mountains next to us. I basically screamed to Ellise to wake up and look — I had been so awed by the gorgeous colors, but hopefully I didn’t scare her too much.

Incredible morning light.

We rested a bit more, and then regrouped with Kao. The clouds hadn’t lifted at all, and the winds were still extremely strong. We discussed it, and no one felt good about going up. It was crazy — all this weather out of nowhere, when the forecast had predicted beautiful, clear skies. Just a reminder of how small I am and how strong nature can be.

Starting the hike out.

We packed up, and went back to the car the exact way we came, not taking any real breaks at all this time. It’s always a bummer hiking out without your summit — especially when you didn’t do anything wrong. But, what can ya do. We managed to catch the shuttle immediately upon making it back to the trailhead, and were all happy to sit down. We started the drive back, stopping for a snack at the Mobil, and then for dinner at Priest Station. Even though we hadn’t done nearly as much hiking as I’d planned, I was still exhausted when we made it back from so little sleep the night before.