Mount Starr King 9096′
Sierra Nevada– Rock Climbing
Total Time: 11:30
Distance: 12.6 miles
Elevation Gain: 4750′
Crux: 5.2
Pitches: 2
Protection: Light rack of single cams 0.5-2, extra webbing
Companions: Holly
Trailhead: Mono Meadows- trash, other services at Glacier Point
Glacier Point Road is expected to be closed for all of 2021 for road improvements. Because of the impending closure, I had tried to tick off a few of the SPS summits in the Clark Range, climbing Red Peak earlier in the season and Grey Peak a few years prior. Merced Peak can be accessed out of the Quartz Mountain trailhead, leaving Mount Starr King and Mount Clark as the only two that would be a more difficult undertaking in 2021. Of the two, I had been wanting to climb Mount Starr King all year, probably more than most of the remaining Sierra Peak Section Peaks on the list. Of the 247 summits, it was one of four rated as fifth class by their easiest route, and of those four, it was one of two that the fifth class section wasn’t simply a summit block that could be easily aided. I knew it would be a long outing, but I really wanted to do it with Holly as one of Yosemite’s more prominent summits. Whether or not she knew what she was getting herself into, she agreed. We left home well before daybreak to optimize what daylight we had during these shorter October days, reaching the Mono Meadows Trailhead a bit after sunrise. I hadn’t been at elevation since climbing Black Hawk Mountain about 3 weeks earlier and it was already significantly colder, my car reading 33 degrees at the trailhead. But the sun warmed us quickly, and we were both ditched our outer layers shortly after Mono Meadows. I tried not to point out to Holly just how much we were descending to Illiouette Creek, what would be a painful finish back to the trailhead for the day.
It took us a bit over an hour to reach the creek, many of the trees yellow for the fall. We stopped to top up on waters for the rest of the day, the creek being the only reliable source between us and the summit. As we filtered, a group of about 10 backpackers reached the crossing. They seemed like a guided group and were on their last day of a multiday backpack. The water level was quite low this late in the season and without rain for months, and was essentially a rock hop to the get across. Yet somewhat miraculously, about half of the hikers in the group slipped in on the crossing. I felt bad laughing but it almost seemed statistically impossible that so many would slip in on what should have been an easy rock hop, one falling quickly after the other like a bad comedy movie. After they all made it across with varying levels of success Holly and I hopped across completely dry.
We turned right at a junction and followed the trail to the southeast as it drew closer to Mount Starr King, looming in the smoke above. I eyed my GPS looking for roughly the point where I needed to leave the trail, just past where the drainage comes down from between the middle and south summits of Mount Starr King. It wasn’t all that apparent where to cut over given the thick trees, but with the help of GPS we cut through the forest and across a small stream that surprisingly still had a trickle of water. We quickly reached another maintained trail but continued straight across, rounding into another drainage through stands of manzanita.
I had read that the approach was largely brush free and utilizes the slabs that run down from the south summit of Starr King. But to access those slabs, we needed to cross one more drainage, completely guarded by buckthorn, some of it above Holly’s head. We tried to utilize thin game trails through, but ultimately had to push through the thickest of it to reach the base of the broken slabs. After the horrible descent from Afternoon Nap, I had promised to limit the bushwacking I would subject Holly to. I was not off to a good start. Although with significantly less brush, the slabs were extremely steep, and we paused multiple times for breaks, our goal of the saddle between the middle and south summits of Mount Starr King not seeming to grow closer. Although it was only a bit after 10 AM, I began to worry about our finishing time, with still plenty of steep approach and two pitches of climbing above us.
We reached a flatter portion of the ridgeline below the south summit and briefly left the slabs for looser scree. Initially we encountered braided use trails, but it seemed like it would be best to stick to the ridge as long as possible before traversing left to the saddle.
Pushing upwards, we cut through the boulders at the last possible moment, connecting with the drainage above the brush bringing us the remaining distance to the saddle. From the thorns below, the ridge had taken over an hour, and we set down our packs for a long break before the real fun began. While Holly rested, I scrambled up to the top of the south summit to eye the remainder of our route, the middle summit rising a good deal higher than I expected between us and the true summit.
We decided to consolidate down to one pack and put on our climbing gear to finish the approach, which required us to go up and over the middle summit to the next saddle and base of the southeast face. Heading up the middle summit, the slabs were just as steep as the approach so far with the added fun of significant exposure to the east, the rest of the Clark Range across the valley in the smoke.
Mercifully, we only needed to descend about 75′ off the middle summit to reach the notch between the middle and north summits and start of the technical climbing. The beta I had recommended that you scramble up a low angled crack above the saddle to give yourself enough rope to reach the first belay, and I placed a small cam at the top to serve as a backup anchor for Holly. I had decided to lead on twin ropes given the potential rope drag on the wandering route, and to give ourselves the convenience of only needing to do two rappels, with reports of parties doing 3 or more with a single 60 meter rope sounding a little messy. After our checks I started up the low angled slabs, not having an opportunity for protection until I was at least 30′ above Holly in a horizontal crack. I placed a small cam, then traversed left to a right facing corner and crack. To avoid significant rope drag, I climbed up the corner a bit before placing a piece, then immediately back cleaned it, clipping instead into a rappel station for those with a single 60 meter rope. I continued directly up to a large triangular shaped block above to place a third piece, then easily walked along a ledge right to find the belay station and top of the first pitch. It was definitely a long pitch to only place three pieces, but there was little opportunity to do so, and it was mostly low fifth class slabs.
As I unclipped my PAS to clip into the anchor, I accidentally unclipped my full water bottle, and watched as it tumbled about 400′ into the gully below. Holly had only about a half liter left, which would hopefully be enough to get us back to our packs at the lower saddle where we had another liter cached. I brought in the slack and Holly started up, having no trouble with the low fifth class climbing and quickly joining me at the webbing belay station. Pitch 2 was reportedly even easier with more opportunities for protection and I started up another right facing crack and corner from the belay station with easy protection to start. This transitioned to another section of smooth slabs, although even lower angled than the first pitch.
As I climbed, I reached a few small steps of darker granite, and it was unclear as to where the second anchor was. I placed a piece and moved out left, then radioed down to Holly that I was searching for the anchor. I had barely finished getting the words out when I looked down and spotted it a few feet away to the left, the webbing wrapped around some large boulders.
I again quickly brought up Holly, and the two of us discussed if we should keep a belay to get to the summit. It was unclear as to the level of exposure we would have once we left the belay, and we agreed I would stay on belay to scope things out. I stayed tied in as I scrambled up through the boulders and built an anchor a bit higher to bring up Holly, who agreed it was probably unnecessary when she joined me.
From there it was only a few more minutes of scrambling to bring us to the broad summit, where we sat down to enjoy the views North to Half Dome, northeast to Mount Hoffmann and Cathedral Peak, east to the Clark Range, and southeast towards Madera Peak and smoke from the Creek Fire. The winds had shifted through the day, easing much of the morning smoke, although it was certainly still quite hazy. The register was an old stamped Sierra Club register, with the summit books going back to 1982. We were only the 8th party to summit for the year, surprising for such a prominent peak in one of the most visited National Parks in the US.
We spent about a half hour at the top before starting our descent, still with two rappels and a long ways back to the car and only about 5 hours of daylight left. We skipped the running belay and scrambled back to the upper webbing belay station where I two rope rappeled first, reaching the first belay station with plenty of rope re-throwing along the way thanks to the low angle.
Holly joined me and after we pulled and rethreaded the rope, Holly continuing on with the second rappel and easily reaching the saddle below with the 60m twin ropes. I joined Holly and pulled the ropes, scrambling down to retrieve my dropped water bottle as Holly coiled the ropes. Incredibly, it was still intact and full of water despite the 400′ fall, only a dent in the base and some scrapes on the cap. Considering my sister had shattered a Nalgene dropping it from waist height in a Starbucks and Holly had broken one dropping it on a trail while attempting the Totgoblin, this seemed unreal.
Holly started back up and over the middle summits while I flaked the second rope, and I caught up to her just before she reached our packs.
The descent from the summit to the saddle had taken about an hour, not bad considering the two rappels involved, and we took another break to redistribute gear between the two packs for the steep descent. Starting back down the gully, we traversed left through boulders to regain the slabby ridge off of the south summit, and slowly worked down the slabs towards the thorny gully below.
I hoped to find a less brushy line across the drainage, and it looked like from above, cheating to the south might be a better option. I had Holly wait while I scouted out a line, then called her on when I stumbled across a decent game trail. But this too dead ended in thorns, and we wound up pushing through the high thicket, somehow the line I scouted being worse than on the ascent. Exhausted from the day and our annoyance renewed, we pushed through the remainder of the cross country, not taking a break until we were back at Illiouette Creek, reaching it at roughly 5:30 PM. We were nearly out of water and needed to filter a bit more before finishing the last three miles to the trailhead, virtually all uphill. The stretch between the creek and Mono Meadows was particularly painful, although we did enjoy the fading afternoon light across Mount Starr King, the Clark Range, and Half Dome to the north.
We almost made it to Mono Meadows before needing headlamps, and trudged up the last 0.75 miles by headlight back to the car, reaching it almost exactly at 7 PM. We were caught behind some Glacier Point traffic from the line of cars that had watched the sunset at the overlook, but still made it to Oakhurst shortly after 8 PM for beer and dinner at Southgate Brewing before heading home.