Chuckwalla Mountain 5029′ and Cross Mountain 5203′
Sierra Nevada
Total Time: 6:20
Distance: ~12 miles
Elevation Gain: 5500′
Crux: Class 1-2
Trailhead: Jawbone Canyon, full services at the head of the canyon
I can’t say I was looking forward to hiking in Jawbone Canyon. At the southern tip of the Sierra Nevada where the Mojave Desert blends with the mountains, the area is more known for shooting and OHV routes than hiking. Don’t get me wrong, if that’s how people want to experience the great outdoors, I’m not opposed. I just don’t want to listen to revving two-strokes on my day off. But there were a handful of Sierra Club HPS Peaks in Jawbone Canyon, and I thought the Monday after a holiday weekend during a pandemic with a potential incoming storm would probably limit the riff-raff. It was the incoming storm as to why I was even biting the bullet and heading south, with the rest of the range expected to see precipitation by mid day, but the southern edge receiving none during the day and little if any overnight. The drive south wasn’t bad, as I was quickly growing accustomed to swinging around the range on Highway 58. From the 58 I traveled up route 14 a few miles and turned into Jawbone Canyon, having passed it by on so many previous trips up the Eastern Sierra. The road into Jawbone Canyon is actually paved for the first six miles, not for the sake of the OHV enthusiasts, but for LADWP and the massive windfarm they control up the canyon. There were no complaints from me as I drove up to the end of the pavement and a locked gate at the edge of the LADWP controlled land. Although I had read on the Sierra Club’s website that they granted right of way to hikers that wanted to explore the area so long as they didn’t go to the turbines themselves, I still didn’t want any confrontation with the many workers going in and out of the locked gate on a work day. So I immediately cut into the desert from my car, crossing through the wire fence at an opening 100 yards south of the road. Although cross country is fairly easy in the Mojave compared to other deserts, it did feel a bit more like the Sonoran Desert in the washes with relatively thick brush.
Weaving through the canyon, I quickly stumbled onto a wide road that lead to White Rock Mine, clearly visible up canyon. The Sierra Club Map I had indicated that I branch right into a side canyon rather than head all the way to the mine. But the use trail I initially found quickly dissipated into the brush. I spied a cairn halfway up the ridge above to my left and started up the chossiest of choss to the pile of rocks, slipping every few steps up. The rock in the area was truly garbage in quality. Unlike the granite found not at all far to the north in the rest range, the rocks in Jawbone canyon were mostly volcanic rhyolite with deposits of chalk, copper and iron resulting in the colorful but fragile rock layers. The looseness improved on the ridgeline proper, crossing a narrow catwalk before moving up the steeper ridgeline with patches of brush.
I spied what I thought was a use trail but this quickly dead ended. However cross country was easy and I traversed around a false summit eventually reaching a well defined dirt bike track a few hundred feet below the high point. Rather than head to the summit directly, the track traversed left to a saddle between the summit of Chuckwalla and a subpeak to the NE.
Hitting the saddle, I had enough reception to check peakbagger and see that this sub summit had nearly 300′ of prominence and the striking bands of white rock near the base made it seem like a worthwhile side trip. I started up a steep dirt bike path, steepening as it climbed higher. About 2/3rds of the way up the track was so steep and loose that I stumbled and slid about 10′ down sand and rocks. This was quickly no longer feeling worth it. But I was too stubborn to turn back, and moved off the track onto thin grasses for better traction, topping out a few minutes later. Looking across to the summit of Chuckwalla, it looked like I might have a similar steep band of loose rock to contend with.
I dropped off utilizing grassy slopes down to the saddle, continuing across and up to the top of Chuckwalla. The steep section from below was actually some of the most solid rock of the day, with thin bands of pale rock that I could sort of scramble up and through some of the looser scree. I walked over to the summit cairn and sat down for a break. With the side trip it had taken me roughly two hours, although Cross Mountain looked further than expected with a drop of over 1,000′ in between.
After eating part of my lunch, I continued over the summit to the south, following a well defined use trail around a false summit to a saddle near some old mines marked on my map. I dropped into a gully here, although I realized too late the standard route goes up one last false summit to a ridgeline descent. The gully was a little brushy but nothing too horrible, and it spit me out into a wider canyon just downstream of a cabin fallen into ruins. I continued past up canyon reaching an ancient rusted car, half buried in the sand.
This seemed like a good spot to finish my lunch and I took one more break with the cliff band of Cross Mountain towering above. The trail up the canyon was well defined, passing a natural spring and old tank before heading directly upslope on a well defined trail.
As I left the canyon, I felt the strong winds for the first time all day, the edge of the storm front slowly working its way south through the range. The route was exposed to the wind so I pushed on as quickly as I could, hitting the summit and sitting behind the small summit cairn, offering mild relief from the winds. The views were similar on Cross as they were on Chuckwalla, best to the north with Owens Peak Wilderness to the northeast and Domelands visible to the north-northwest through several intervening peaks, including Heald from my last visit to this part of the range.
The winds didn’t allow a long break, so I dropped off the summit on the leeward side to the northeast. The Sierra Club map had a line labeled “good scree” which I eventually did find, although I was about halfway down to the flatter ridgeline below before I could really boot ski my descent.
In a canyon to my right, there was a small but impressive looking cave, and had the entrance to get to the mouth not look like technical choss, I might have made the side trip to check it out. The ridgeline brought me all the way back down to Jawbone Canyon proper, hitting an old cattle enclosure just off the main road. I had seen few cars on my descent and walked the road the rest of the way back to my car, two pickup trucks zipping past near the end and giving me a little wave. I had hoped to have had enough time to tag Butterbredt Peak, another HPS summit nearby. But it was 9 miles of rough road to reach the trailhead, and I’d be lucky to make it there by sunset let alone get up and down before dark. So with the hour of daylight I had left, I stopped at Blue Point, a very small side summit with rocks stained blue by Copper.
The small peak was braided with sandy motorcycle tracks, making for a short but tedious ascent but wonderful boot ski back down. After tagging the bonus peak, I hopped in my car and made my way back to the 14 back home.
