Palisade Traverse- Thunderbolt Peak, Starlight Peak, North Palisade, Polemonium Peak and Mount Sill

Palisade Traverse- Thunderbolt Peak 14,009′, Starlight Peak 14,200′, North Palisade 14,248′, Polemonium Peak 14,080′ and Mount Sill 14,159′
Rock Climbing- Sierra Nevada
Total Time: 3 days, 10 hours summit of Thunderbolt to summit of Sill
Distance: 25.3 miles
Elevation Gain: 11,900′
Crux: Class 5.9 A0
Trailhead: South Lake, trash and pit toilets

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Continued….

I glanced at my phone from my sleeping bag. 2:55 AM. I had planned for a 3 AM start and slowly sat up in my tent to get dressed. Despite the Thunderbolt to Sill traverse being on my mind for about 10 years, I had actually slept fairly well and felt about as refreshed as I could hope for given the early start. After coffee, breakfast and morning rituals, I left my camp in Dusy Basin by headlamp shortly after 4 AM. I had brought along a light 18 liter summit pack containing 3 liters of water, snacks for the day, extra webbing for bail anchors, a Beal Escaper allowing me to do full 60 meter rappels with a single rope for emergencies, water filter, GPS and wind jacket. I wore my harness and helmet out of camp, with a handful of carabiners, prussiks and a Microtrax clipped to my harness. I had a 60 meter half rope tied over the backpack in a backpackers coil to be used for rappels and aiding the summit blocks. It was about as light as I was willing to go as I started up the talus slopes in complete darkness, aiming for the general direction of Thunderbolt Pass. The rock was mostly solid, similar to Mount Agassiz the day before, although there was one steeper section of scree about halfway up that had me sliding with each step before reaching solid rock closer to the pass. I nearly reached Thunderbolt Pass at 12,400′ just as the sun began to rise on the other side of the Sierra Crest. Although I had enough light to turn off my headlamp, being on the west side of the crest, I would be in the shade until reaching the notch just below Thunderbolt Peak. There were a few empty bivy spots at the pass, probably more reasonable when there was water following in the chutes in better snow years. But the three liters I had would have to keep me for the day, the early July conditions looking closer to late August. From Thunderbolt Pass, I planned to ascend via the Southwest Chute to gain the crest, following it all the way to the notch just below Thunderbolt Peak. The correct chute was obvious from the pass, the massive boulder strewn gully immediately south of the pass.

There was a faint use trail as I started up the chute with footprints in the mud as I climbed higher. About 1/3 of the way up, a series of chokestones and patch of snow blocked further progress. But a class 3 ledge cut out right at the base of the snow, leading to easier class 2 slabs that stayed above the gully to the right.

As these ledges were class 2 with no exposure, I stayed on them as long as possible before moving back in to the gully higher up, taking all major right branches as instructed by Secor. It was about 7:30 AM when I reached the crest at a deep notch, with Thunderbolt Peak immediately to the south and the lower subpeak of the Lightning Rod to the north.

I initially started up the broken ledge-y crack, then backed off when it began to feel a bit too exposed. I scrambled partly up the Lightning Rod to get a better look at the face and saw a spot to cut right on less exposed ledges which worked quite nicely, leading to a class 3 crack up to a rock seam and base of the summit block. I had looked at so many photos of it, it was exciting to finally see it in person, not signing into the summit register before I tagged the summit block, rated 5.9.

I uncoiled my rope and tied a figure-8 on the end with a carabiner, creating a large lasso loop tied together with a Munter hitch. I then scrambled up an adjacent rock, grabbed a bunch of the rope to throw…. and completely missed. I had hoped I would have picked up some lassoing skills by osmosis just based off my time in Scottsdale and Fresno, but no such luck. It took me about 20 minutes to actually get a loop around the summit, ultimately making my lasso loop huge and throwing just one end of the loop around the top. I pulled down on the loop with the Munter cinching down tightly around the neck of the summit block. I hooked up my Microtrax and after a bounce test and weighting my anchor, I started up in an attempt to climb it free. There were actually some nice hand and foot holds on the left side of the summit block, and I made a big side pull and heel hook to move around the arete and on to the sloped summit block, clipping my PAS into the two bolt anchor. I was elated. Even if I had to bail on the rest of the traverse, it was worth it just for Thunderbolt Peak, one of the hardest 14ers in the lower 48 states.

It was early and I was pleased with my progress so far with my next stop Starlight Peak just on the other side of Underhill Couloir to the south. So I pulled up the rope and set up a short rappel back to the base, signing into the register and recoiling my rope into a backpackers coil. Getting to Underhill Couloir looked impossible without a rappel, but I easily found the key ramp on the southeast side of the ridge, following a class 3 chimney system before escaping out onto easy class 3 slabs just above Underhill.

Although I had researched the entire route in great detail, I was under the assumption that the route-finding heading up to Starlight would be one of the more straightforward parts of the day, more or less keeping off the exposed crest on the right (west) side. And starting up it was, working up class 3 ledges just below the main ridgeline. But there were often 2 or 3 options and I seemed to invariably choose the wrong one, having to then backtrack at multiple dead ends. I was constantly referencing multiple beta photos in my pocket following the path of least resistance slowly getting closer to Starlight. There was a prominent rib of rock splitting two gullies on the northwest face of Starlight and I worked up a class 3 groove up to a notch… and what seemed like a dead end. There was a rappel station with faded slings leading me to believe I was off route, and as I looked across fractured gully, I began to think that I might be in over my head, and that I should maybe just rappel down into the gully and descend back to camp. There might be a way back up on the other side, but it was difficult to tell from my vantage point. After some deliberation, I added a sling to the rappel station, set up the rap and started down the low fifth class terrain. I descended about 20′ when I saw a chimney to my left heading back up towards the crest with a ledge system above. Staying on rappel I scrambled over to investigate, finding a dropped lighter on a the ledge and some faint footprints. Feeling back on track, I pulled and recoiled my ropes scrambling to a notch in the ridgeline before moving back onto the west face, the famous Milk Bottle summit block directly above.

I made one last route finding error with some backtracking, cutting right when I should have gone left, but eventually made my way to the base of the summit block, taking over 2 hours from Thunderbolt Peak. Although rated 5.4, it looked far more intimidating than Thunderbolt, higher, more slender, and with potentially catastrophic fall potential on the west side.

I had hoped there would be a cheater sling hanging down to clip into, but the anchor cord was about 20′ above my head. Uncoiling my rope, I tried to lasso the summit block, but it was clear that it was way too high. Then I had an idea. Holding the free end of the rope, I scrambled around the entire summit block making a big loop. I was then able to flip the rope up around the neck of the milk bottle, cinching it tight with a Munter hitch and giving me a top anchor that was at least high enough to reach the cord anchor above.

Pleased with how well that worked, I set up my microtrax and mantled on to a sloping ledge below the milk bottle neck, getting me high enough to clip the summit cord. The final move on to the pinnacle was surprisingly tricky for 5.4, and I couldn’t imagine climbing it without the safety of a rope. With no partner to take glory photos of me on the tiny summit, I snapped a few pictures in each direction and rappelled back to the base to sign into the register. The logbook went back further than any of the summits of the day, dating back into the 1980s with significantly fewer visitors than the other peaks.

On to North Palisade, the high point of the traverse. The summit was only about 100 yards away but with a deep gap to negotiate. I scrambled back down ledges and found the rappel station above a steep broken chimney immediately southwest of the Milk Bottle. This rappel anchor had plenty of fresh webbing, and confident I was on route, I rappelled about 100′ of low fifth class rock to another rap station, with a second rappel bringing me down to the notch between the two summits.

From the notch. I scrambled up the ridgeline, moving left around a gendarme to find a third rappel station and site of the infamous “creative rappel”.

Next to the rappel station was a slot about 60′ deep about two body widths wide barring progress. So I set up the rappel and slowly lowered, pushing off the rock over the gap to the other side. It actually wound up being fairly easy, although I imagine shorter people may struggle a bit more. And to climb it free without a rappel would require either an incredibly brave/ foolish jump or some seriously exposed fifth class moves. Pulling the rope, it looked like I could go either way around the ridge, choosing left and scrambling up to a flat slab about 100′ below the summit. To climb the ridge directly involved a 5.6 chimney, which I had no intention of free soloing.

Prior trip reports describe less difficult options both to the right and left of the main ridgeline. Left looked easier and more forgiving, so I scrambled out on ledges below the summit onto the eastern slopes. There were some patches of snow in the shade, which I used to kick in steps for upward progress, shimmying up one final chimney up to the summit blocks. It was a bit before 2:30 PM, the short stretch between Starlight and North Palisade taking about 2 hours, although largely thanks to three separate rappels. But for the first time all day Mount Sill looked like a reasonable distance away. With the bulk of the difficulties behind me, I took a well earned break, spending about 20 minutes on one of the most iconic summits of the Sierra.

Next stop, Polemonium Peak. Dropping off the summit of North Palisade, I was surprised to find a good deal of fourth class downclimbing between myself and the U-Notch, which I happily rappelled with another solid webbing anchor. Working south to the right of a few pillars, I spotted a cairn that marks the top of the 5.2 chimney and standard ascent route out of the U-Notch. Rappelling into the notch required 2 full length rappels of good piton anchors.

Polemonium Peak was directly above the U-Notch and rated fourth class, with thankfully the hardest moves coming directly out of the notch itself without exposure. I followed a crack/ chimney out of the notch and up to a series of ledges, working up to the western ridgeline. There’s a 5.2 variation that involves some very exposed face climbing, but I found much more agreeable difficulties around the ridge of rock to the south as well as on the ridge itself, reaching the summit in only about 20 minutes from the U-Notch. It was almost 5 PM. Thanks to another 3 rappels, getting to Polemonium had again taken longer than expected, and I briefly debated whether or not to finish off the traverse on Sill.

Looking at the summit of Sill less than a half mile away, I knew I’d regret it if I skipped it. So I started down the east ridge of Polemonium, rappeling the last class 4 section of the day and skirting ledges out right to a broad class 2 talus ridgeline. It seemed quite out of character with the rest of the route and extremely easy, and I assumed Sill is only included in the traverse given its’ status as a 14er and proximity to the others.

It would have been easy to keep the entire ascent up Sill class 2, but it hardly seemed worth it to avoid any class 3 after the day I had. But the 3 AM start and low water reserves were catching up with me as I slogged out the final bit of the traverse, topping out after 6:30 PM. I was smiling ear to ear as I sat down and finished off my food, the late afternoon light casting an incredible glow across the Palisades, with the entire traverse sitting across the Palisade Glacier.

I sent Holly an update and let her know I’d be getting back to camp late, but all the real difficulties were well behind me, stuffing the rope into my pack for the rest of the day. My plan was to descend off Sill into the Glacier Creek drainage, cut over Potluck Pass and hike through Palisade Basin, over Thunderbolt Pass and back to camp. I figured it would take me 4-5 hours, and it was worth it to me to finish well after dark to complete the entire traverse. This plan wound up being a horrible one. In retrospect, I should have fixed my rope at the final class 4 rappel on Polemonium, reclimbed it and rappeled into the U-Notch, descending directly into Palisade Basin. But on the map, the Glacier Creek drainage and Potluck Pass look straightforward class 2, and I thought that this would ultimately be faster. It was anything but. Dropping off Sill was easy enough, utilizing easy class 2 scree slopes south into the upper Glacier Creek drainage basin to a creek fed by the permanent snowfield, giving me a chance to filter water for the first time all day.

The upper basin was mostly slabs and alpine grass, super easy to hike cross country and was the fastest I was hiking all day. This will be a breeze I thought! I hugged the right side of the drainage, and just as I began to lose all light I came to the first major obstacle- a 100′ ledge-y cliff band. I scanned for a weakness in the fading light, but worried about descending something blindly only to have to climb back up. I began to work back into the center of the canyon, trying several gullies only to have them each end at short 10′ cliffs. Although I had the gear to rappel, I worried about rappeling onto a ledge in the dark and pulling my rope, potentially trapping myself if there was no route down. After trying 3-4 separate gullies, I eventually found one that went, following this down to the lowest part of the drainage, choked with massive boulders. It wasn’t the worst terrain to hike in but still tedious, hopping around some of the larger rocks and trying not to fall in the pools of water running in between. It was now pitch black and I was relying entirely on headlamp, slowly working my way down canyon at a pace that was not going to put me back at camp in 4 hours from the summit of Sill. As I neared the elevation level of Potluck Pass, I contoured to my right, hugging the base of the cliff bands waiting for a weakness to bring me up and over. I assumed it would be similar to Thunderbolt Pass, a heap of talus going up and over each side. But the cliffs I was hugging stayed cliffs and grew taller, about 300′ of sheer granite separating me from Palisade Basin. I started exploring various ramp systems, hoping to find the class 2 weakness in the dark, but each dead ending quickly. I was well aware that I could probably spot the weakness easily in the daylight, and for the first time began contemplating an open bivy for the night, now almost 11 PM having spent a good hour looking for a way up Potluck Pass. I thought I would try for another 15 minutes before findings somewhere to curl up for the night, continuing beyond the pass to the southwest. I was about to give up for the night when I spotted a faint track in the sand. There were no cairns but it was the best thing I had found so far. I followed this weaving up sandy ledges and up and over the pass! Perhaps I would end the night in a sleeping bag after all. The north side of the pass was wide open slab, and I felt like I had finally caught a break. But this too, was short lived. As I reached the first of the many drainages coming from the Palisade group above, the open slabs disappeared and were replaced by a massive boulder field. The boulders grew larger and larger, until it reached the point where I was navigating between rocks the size of mobile homes. It was absolutely exhausting, a full body workout scrambling up, around and between the massive rocks, often times needing to backtrack to get around some of the larger ones or avoid sketchy gaps. My pace was probably a quarter mile an hour at most, and multiple times I laid down on the rocks in exhaustion, turned off my headlamp and stared at the Milky Way over the Palisades. I find that the term “Epic” has become quite overused in our culture, but this day was as much of an Epic as I ever hope to have. The rests would sometimes provide me with a second wind only to bonk 5 minutes after restarting. I tried scrambling higher or lower but found more of the same terrain at each elevation. I would love to see the basin in daylight, and wondered how much of an easier line I could have found with a bit more light. It was 3 AM by the time I reached Thunderbolt Pass with another hour to make it back to camp, being up for over 25 hours and having left camp about 24 hours the day before. Making dinner was out of the question- all I wanted was my sleeping bag. I filtered a quick liter of water, surprised by the blood dripping down my hands when the stream water washed out the dirt clogging the innumerable cuts on my fingertips from the day. I wolfed down a bag of chips and crawled into my sleeping bag, falling asleep almost immediately.

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With no alarm, the hot sun woke me up at 10 AM, getting a little under 6 hours of sleep. I crawled out of my tent and stared at my coffee pot for some time, willing it to make me coffee. That of course didn’t happen and I eventually made it for myself, slowly packing up camp and taking a bit over an hour. Before the weekend I had planned to climb Giraud Peak on the day out, but that prospect seemed laughable now. Particularly given the fact that storm clouds were beginning to build over the Palisades. Although the skies over Bishop Pass were clear, I knew these storms clouds could bloom, and I hiked quickly out of Dusy Basin before the thunder started.

I almost made it to the pass when the first crack sounded above Thunderbolt Peak a few miles away. I sped up, half jogging down the switchbacks and not stopping until I reached treeline near Bishop Lake. This would actually be my only break of the morning as the storm clouds bloomed as predicted, and the rain began falling as I passed the junction for Ruwau Lake.

The storm had not been forecasted and I did not have a pack cover, my filthy rope getting a much needed rinse. The rain steadily increased as I descended further becoming fairly consistent in the last mile with thunder booming across the Evolution Basin ahead. I reached my car shortly before 3 PM, the hike out taking under 4 hours despite being exhausted the day before. After stripping off my filthy and tattered clothes, I hopped in the car and headed to Bishop, getting a burger at Mountain Rambler Brewing before driving home up and over Tioga Pass.