Tunnabora Peak 13,565′
Sierra Nevada
Total Time: 14:40
Distance: 12.4 miles
Elevation Gain: 7750′
Crux: Class 3
Trailhead: Whitney Portal, full services (in summer months)
Ticking off the peaks surrounding Mount Whitney in pursuit of completion of the Sierra Peak Section list is logistically challenging due to the required Whitney Zone permit. Roughly 7 summits fall within the zone with another 9 summit requiring passing through the zone on the approach via the shortest routes. I had actually whittled that number down to three summits after tagging Young and Hale on the last day of the JMT this year- Tunnabora Peak, Mount McAdie and Mount Newcomb (which I missed on a botched traverse from Mount Pickering). The quota for day permits is removed from November 1st to April 30th, and if conditions allow, you can sneak in a few summits in the winter, as I had done with Mount Newcomb and Thor Peak. And with the Southern Sierra seeing a pitiful amount of snow by early December, I decided to take advantage of the dry conditions and bag Tunnabora Peak. The nickname for Tunnabora Peak was Ton-of-boring, known to be a talus slog dwarfed by much more impressive summits on virtually all sides. I actually had the opportunity to climb it on my first solo backpack in the Sierra. After camping at Lower Boyscout Lake the night before, I hiked up to the Russell-Carillon saddle, tagged both, and hiked down to Wallace Lakes for the night. In my young hubris and with success on two SPS peaks that morning including a tough 14er, I felt like such a stud that there was no need to bag Tunnabora, that I had been so easy for me to make it up there. 8 years later, it remained unclimbed and I drove up Highway 395 in the dark, pulling into Lone Pine in the late evening. I slept in my car in the Alabama Hills waking to my alarm at 3 AM. The skies were crystal clear the night before but some clouds had moved in, the low moonlight casting across the high summits below the cloud line. As I drove up Whitney Portal Road, I pulled off in amazement looking up at Lone Pine Peak- the gullies running down the east face looked loaded with snow. I had enough service to pull up a dated webcam image from the day before, showing those same gullies totally dry. Must be the moonlight playing tricks I thought, and continued driving to the trailhead. There was only one other car at the (dry) Whitney Portal trailhead, and with my bag already packed, I started up the trail. My route was to ascend the well traveled North Fork of Lone Pine Creek before turning off north of Lower Boy Scout Lake up to the Carillon-Cleaver col, reportedly class 3 for only a short section below the col. I had been up the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek several times before but mostly in the winter when the willow trees were buried in snow making travel more direct. In dry times, one must take the class 3 Ebersbacher ledges to avoid a thicket of willows, and I was a little worried about finding them in the dark. I turned on to the rather obvious use trail when I reached the North Fork of Lone Pine Creek and followed it steeply upslope through the dark. Although the North Fork route used to be an ill defined climber’s trail, it has become essentially a trade route with guided groups heading up the class 3 mountaineers route of Whitney and very easy to follow. As such, the turn off for the ledges was quite obvious with numerous cairns, and aside from one exposed catwalk, was very straightforward. The willows thinned above the ledges and I was soon at the outlet of Lower Boyscout Lake, taking only about an hour and a half from the trailhead despite not being over 10,000′ in months. I paused to top off my water, assuming everything higher would be frozen, and noticed a few faint snowflakes falling across my headlamp beam. It was very light, only 1-2 flakes per second, and it felt a bit charming to be near the East Face of Whitney in a light snow. As I left the lake and started my cross country portion of the day, the snow slightly increased. Still nothing of significance, as I was able to see across the canyon to Thor Peak and above to the summit pinnacles of Carillon even in the low morning light, but definitely increased. But the higher I climbed, the harder the snow came down. As I neared a flatter portion of the drainage at ~11.5k’, the snowflakes had become big and wet, and my visibility dropped to about a half mile at most. The sun had risen enough for me to no longer need a headlamp, although was nowhere in sight.
I briefly considered the wisdom of continuing up the class 3 route with what was now about an inch of fresh snow, but I did have micro spikes for extra traction and plenty of layers, and it seemed unlikely the snow would be deep enough to call for flotation. So I pressed on, the Cleaver-Carillon col directly ahead but lost in a snow cloud. The snow started to slow, and the landscape suddenly warmed with the morning sunrise casting directly beneath the breaking stormclouds around Lone Pine Peak. It was one of the most breathtaking sunrises I’ve seen.
Encouraged by the changing weather, I started angling up loose talus towards the presumed class 3 gully just southeast of the col. Although the snows had subsided, the typical morning wind was nearly knocking me off balance, and I struggled boulder and talus hopping with half of the terrain partially buried in ice and snow.
Nearing the mouth of the gully, I had my only real thought of turning back for the day, the winds tearing through all my layers requiring me to add my down jacket to my fleece and windbreaker to keep from freezing. The winds improved as I entered the narrow gully and I slogged up snowy ledges to the left of the gully to avoid the obvious cliffs straight ahead. This was probably the crux of the day, made all the more difficult by the loose snow and hidden ice beneath. Weaving up ledges, I reached a more broad talus slope splitting gullies from the ridgeline, and slowly but more easily followed this up to the Cleaver-Carillon col. The snow clouds at the ridgeline were just burning off when I topped out, partially obscuring Mount Russell to the southwest and Tunnabora Peak across Tulainyo Lake, the highest named lake in the Sierra Nevada.
My original plan was to also climb the Cleaver, class 3 via it’s easiest route but very exposed, likely not ideal with fresh snow. So I decided to focus on my main objective and see if there would be time afterwards. I initially kept to the ridge, but was surprised to find several short downclimbs and notches just to reach the actual col itself, leading me to believe I had hit the ridgeline too far to the south. It was more likely that these short downclimbs seemed more intimidating with the fresh snow, and most people probably don’t even really clock them. Finally at the low point, I started my traverse across the west face of the Cleaver, moving slowly through sections with deeper snow and faster through a welcome area that for whatever reason, had almost none. This traverse would have been tedious under good conditions, about a mile of constant boulder hopping and shifting talus, and was absolutely exhausting with the added fun of fresh snow. I had reached the col at about 10 AM, and had hoped to cover the distance in an hour. But 11 AM came and went as I plodded along.
I thought my pace would quicken when I reached the far side of the basin and started up Tunnabora, but there was more snow than appeared from below and a painful number of false summits along the ridgeline to the east. It was roughly noon when I hit the highpoint taking 2 painful slow hours to cover the mile from the col. I huddled out of the wind in the summit rocks. The weather had continuously improved and the sun was now shining bright, with Mount Williamson and Tyndall to the north, the Inyo Mountains and Owens Valley to the east, the Kaweahs and Great Western Divide to the west and Mount Russel and Mount Whitney to the south.
Someone (Sean Casserly) had actually climbed Tunnabora two days before with about half the entries every year coming after the November 1st quota season ends. No doubt he had better conditions. As much as I wanted to stay and enjoy the views, the ascent had taken 8 hours thanks to the tedium of the fresh snow, and I was worried the traverse back would take just as long. Until I had the bright idea of crossing Tulainyo Lake. Thinly covered with snow, and assuming the highest lake in the range was frozen solid, it would allow me to avoid a good mile of boulder hopping. I dropped down the slopes directly to the lake, boot skiing on a combination of snow and scree to the edge of the ice. I picked up a large rock and threw it, watching it bounce across the lake without even a dent. It looked like the ice was at least 2 inches thick at the water’s edge, so I put on my microspikes and cautiously stepped out onto the lake.
I hugged the shoreline, knowing the ice tends to be thinnest in the middle, and made remarkable time moving along the lake’s edge. As I neared the base of the Cleaver-Carillon col, the ice seemed to thin and I scrambled off, performing an ascending traverse up the talus to the saddle. What had taken 2 hours on the way in took only 40 minutes on the return. I had hoped to find a more direct line down than the one I had taken in and started down the main gully, seeing that it cliffed out rather quickly causing me to reverse my course. I started down the next gully to the south finding the same thing and decided to just return the way I came. Unfortunately, I dropped down one ridgeline too soon and still got cliffed out, this time after descending for a good 20 minutes requiring me to climb all the way back up to the ridgeline. By the time I was back on track and working down the steep snowy class 3 ledges, it was after 3:30, and it seemed unlikely I would make it back to the North Fork trail before dark.
I dropped into the lowest point of the valley, keeping on grasses to avoid hidden ice and butt scooting down slick slabs in a few spots. The sunset across Owens Valley was fantastic, and I was able to work around Carillon and got a glimpse of Whitney before losing light for the day.
I needed my headlamp just before reaching the outlet of Lower Boyscout Lake, and was somewhat surprised to find snow covering the trail, despite that area being snow free that morning. I had hope to find the Ebersbacher ledges dry, but no such luck. A thin layer of snow and ice covered the class 3 ledge, and I belly crawled across the narrow catwalk, definitely the sketchiest portion of the day. I probably should have just bushwacked through the willows in hindsight. Once through the ledges, I had a few icy creek crossings before the snow ended and I was finally able to pick up the pace again, trotting down the trailhead and reaching my car shortly before 6:30 PM. I had a long drive home, and wasting no time zipping down the road into Lone Pine, grabbing a quick sub for dinner and heading south to CA-58 to make my way back to the Central Valley.