Mount Emerson 13,236′
Rock Climbing– Sierra Nevada
Total Time: 10:00
Distance: 9.2 miles
Elevation Gain: 4300′
Crux: Class 5.4
Pitches: 7
Protection: Small rack, half dozen quickdraws, 55 meter rope
Companions: Shelby Kincaid
Trailhead: North Lakes TH- pit toilets
After a productive start to my alpine season in Oregon, it was time to refocus my attention to my home range and start ticking off objectives in the Sierra. I was spending a week in Mammoth and wanted to climb something on the East side. Although plenty of summits were in condition, the technical roped routes were a bit more mixed, many still holding quite a bit of snow- doable, but certainly more difficult. After spending way too much time on satellite imagery, it seemed that the waterfall route on Mount Emerson would be mostly snow free, and I teamed up with Shelby for the attempt. Rated 5.4, it is often considered a beginner alpine technical route, however has plenty of route finding challenges and has been the site of plenty of epics and a handful of rescues from beginners getting in over their heads. Shelby and I met at the North Lake trailhead at 7 AM, the first time on that particular trail for both of us. It was also the first time the two of us had climbed together in nearly four years, the last time climbing Unicorn Peak in Tuolumne in 2021. The day use parking area is about a quarter mile from the trailhead itself, tucked in the back of the nearby campground, and after organizing our gear we started out. The trail was quite lovely, winding through pine forest and pockets of aspen, crossing over the North Fork of Bishop Creek on log bridges.
After climbing the first 1100′ and 2.5 miles in about an hour, we took a short break near a rock outcropping, the route easily identified on the cliff above by the dark crack/ chimney system arching up to the right. We continued on the trail a bit farther before starting up the talus, moving slowly but finding it to be overall quite stable. Growing closer, we could actually see another party on the route, a twosome at the top of the first pitch.
Shelby filtered some water in a stream near the base of the route while I scouted out the first pitch. The Waterfall Route was living up to it’s name, with a thin trickle of water running down the left side of the chimney. There was an easier face climb off to the right which would bypass the first pitch if wet, however the water running in the crack was minimal, and it seemed like it could be avoided entirely sticking to cracks towards the right side of the chimney. After a brief discussion, we decided I would lead the first pitch, starting up with a light alpine rack and plenty of slings. Initially, the water was easy to avoid as expected, and I was able to keep my rock shoes fairly dry keeping to the right. But that plan quickly went out the window when I reached a chokestone about 75′ up, water running over the top with no dry way around. Still nowhere near as bad as my experience on Snow Boots, I quickly climbed over the chokestone to the class 4 groove above, taking my 55 meter rope about as far as I could to class 2-3 terrain before building an anchor.
I brought up Shelby to the anchor, and as we discussed unroping, a softball sized rock bounced directly between us, knocked down by the twosome above. Happy for our helmets, we unroped and started weaving up the class 2-3 ramps to the right of the crack. We rejoined the chimney system below another chokestone and initially began to scramble up. However the terrain began to feel closer to fifth class with a little extra spice from the wetness. So rather than take any unnecessary risks, we stopped on a ledge and tied back in, this time Shelby leading up the short pitch of low fifth class back into class 2-3 terrain.
Looking up towards the summit, the face looked significantly less exposed and it seemed all class 4 and 5 climbing would be done with until the summit ridge. So I stuffed the rope in my pack and we continued upwards, following easy ramps and slabs in the main gully up until about 12,000′. The rock began to steepen again, and from below, it was unclear if we should follow cracks up to the right or the chimney to the left. As I studied the face, I glanced left and saw a notch that looked well traveled. We scrambled over to it, and found that it led to the base of a beautiful rib of rock studded with flakes and knobs that bypassed the steep face entirely. We followed this until it fizzled out and rejoined the gully, and were surprised to find ourselves looking up at a small snowfield.
The twosome we had been following were short roping across it, although it seemed like you could bypass it on rock to the right. We scrambled up and I briefly explored bypass options, but with the twosome having already kicked in steps, it seemed like the easiest option would just be to follow their footprints through the snow. Shelby had little experience on alpine snow, so we roped up, following the footprints on belay and placing one directional piece on the rock face halfway up. With rock shoes full of snow, I built a quick anchor and brought up Shelby, now just below the summit ridge.
From the top of the snow, the route up wasn’t clear and we decided to remain roped in until the summit. I started up, and quickly found a class 2 ramp, continuing on to the base of the summit ridgeline where we finally caught up to the two some that had been ahead of us all day. Turns out they were a pair of guides from Bishop that were practicing short rope techniques for clients on this route for the upcoming summer season. I told them that we planned on simulclimbing the ridge to the summit and they started up, Shelby and I taking one last break before the summit push.
I started on lead along the ridgeline, keeping to the right and well below the first gendarme on the ridge as the guides before had done. I quickly caught up to them at a belay ledge. Passing would likely be doable, but the younger guide politely offered me a spot to build an anchor, seeming to imply that an attempt at passing would not be welcome. Rather than risk a clusterfuck on the ridgeline, I built a quick anchor and brought up Shelby, where she swung onto lead and continued directly up to the top of the next gendarme above. The short roping guides had noq built up some distance between us, and I transitioned to simulclimbing, able to scramble about two rope lengths with a microtrax halfway to catch back up to them. This would be the pattern the rest of the ridge line, alternating between short pitches and short blocks of simulclimbing until catching them.
I was on lead the final section of ridgeline, a beautiful knife section very quickly transitioning to third and then second class up to the summit blocks. The two guides were finishing up some small postcard sized paintings when we hit the summit, taking a bit over 6 hours from the start. The views were outstanding, with Mount Humphreys and Mount Tom to the north, Bear Creek Spire and the LLV region to the northwest, Florence Lake Basin and Evolution Valley to the west, summits of the Evolution region to the south, and the Palisades stretched out to the southeast. We took a long break at the top, it being Shelby’s first California 13er and my first SPS Peak of the season, not to mention the dread both of us had for the slog back down.
After about 20 minutes, we collected our things, took off our harness and began the descent, continuing along the ridgeline for about 50′ before making a hard left into the gully to the left, dropping directly down the south face. While there were some sandy spots, it was in general a bit too compact to boot ski down.
It took us about 1.5 hours to descend the 2,500′ down to the unnamed lake tucked between Loch Leven and Piute Lake. We stopped in the shade to filter some water before continuing along the trail to Loch Leven, finding a waterfall cutting underneath a snow bridge at the lake outlet.
We picked up the pace back on the trail, and paused for a few more pictures at the base of the route before heading back to the trailhead, the entire outing taking about 10 hours at a steady but reasonable pace. We parted ways and I headed back to Mammoth, getting home in time to put Avery to bed after a late dinner.