Mount Williamson 14,379′ and Polychrome Peak 13,018′
Sierra Nevada
Archival Series (statistics approximate)- Climbed 6/20/12-6/24/12
Total Time: 5 days
Distance: 54 miles
Crux: Class 3+
Trailhead: Whitney Portal, full services
The mosquitos were still out when I woke up the next morning, so I quickly packed my things and headed north along the PCT. The trail climbs fairly steeply out of the Wallace Creek drainage climbing up and over the southwest shoulder of Tawny Point before gently dropping towards Tyndall Creek.
I continued past the junction for the Tyndall Creek Ranger Station and turned right onto the Shepards Pass Trail, Tyndall and Williamson tucked out of view. The trail quickly leaves treeline and was exposed to some fairly high winds, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find a suitable campsite close to the pass. As the northwest slopes of Tyndall came into view, I found a flat but exposed spot near a trickle of a stream slightly below the pass and set up camp for the night. It was still early, and I felt like I had enough time to tackle Tyndall, saving Williamson for the following day. The most popular route up the North Rib rated sustained class 3. But after experiencing sandbagged class 3 the day before on Russell, I was a bit intimidated and decided to tackle the reportedly more forgiving class 2 northwest slopes.
I started up the steep boulder strewn face, keeping just right of a prominent rib splitting the northwest slopes. I made slow but steady progress, the rock fairly stable although not seeming well traveled. It was easy going until I topped out on the western ridge of Tyndall, the summit in sight less than a quarter mile away. But I couldn’t see how to get there. The ridgeline was fractured with towers and pinnacles blocking the route. South of the ridge was sheer cliff. And the north side seemed like broken uncrossable slab (although this probably was the key).
I briefly tried the ridge proper and looked for a way through, but found no luck. I felt like I had already gotten away with one on Russell the day before, and decided not to push my luck any further; I would return to climb Tyndall in 2014 via the very fun North Rib. I dropped down the slopes the way I came, passing a father and son on their way up who would tell me later after passing me at camp that they turned around at the same spot, unable to find a way to the summit. Back at camp I made a quick dinner and settled in for the night for an attempt on Mount Williamson, the second highest summit in California.
I awoke early and after a quick breakfast, continued east along the trail towards Shepards Pass. Before reaching the pass I cut right cut sandy slopes towards Williamson Bowl, the terrain resembling somewhat of an egg carton with several small lakes split by glacial moraines and ridges.
I started descending the boulder field into the bowl when a large boulder I was standing on shifted just slightly. I reflexively jerked to maintain balance, and my entire left back went into spasm. I found a flat spot and sat down, trying to stretch to alleviate the pain. I was 23 at the time, and have never had back pain in my life. I briefly considered turning back, but the West Face of Williamson was now in view, one of the main objectives of the entire backpack within spitting distance. The stretching seemed to briefly help, and I continued slowly through the tedious Williamson Bowl, passing a campsite and spying a handful of climbers already working their way up the steep talus chute, the rock stained black from trickling snowmelt.
The line looked less intimidating the closer I got, although was quite loose. I passed a climber resting on a ledge, and meekly asked if he had any ibuprofen. I was in luck, and gulped down three. That’s also one of the last times I forgot to throw a small bottle in my summit pack (although I forgot some on Mount Lyell and Maclure). Progress up the loose chute was slow, and I was happy to reach the cairn signalling the traverse out of the main chute into the class 3 chimney.
This was my first experience climbing a chimney and I found it extremely enjoyable, particularly after ascending the loose choss below. There was a group of three just above me in the chimney and I caught up to them just as they hit the notch to put us on the massive summit plateau I had admired from Owens Valley. They took a wide line up sandy slopes to the left, and I scrambled up more directly ahead of them, topping out in the late morning. The ibuprofen had kicked in enough for me to find the finish of the climb quite enjoyable, even more so given my failure on Tyndall the day before. I spent a while on the summit taking photos and enjoying the views of Mount Whitney to the south.
After trading photos with the other group at the summit, I headed back to the notch, scrambling back to the loose talus chute passing the same climber I had borrowed ibuprofen from earlier, struggling with the altitude. Williamson Bowl was just as tedious on the way in as the way out, and I cautiously climbed back up the loose boulders towards Shepards Pass. I was feeling good enough that I felt I should tag Polychrome Peak, an ill defined 13er just above the pass.
It was a short walk up to the rounded summit, although the summit itself was a bit of a maze of small spires, each competing to be the high point. I eventually found the correct one, and with a bit of straight forward class 3, I tagged the high point.
Scrambling off, I headed back to camp, the meds starting to wear off a bit and my back pain reintensifying. Although I would have preferred to try Tyndall again the next day, I felt it would be best to start working towards the trailhead in case my back felt even worse the following day. So I broke camp and started down the trail back towards the PCT. Even with popping another round of pills, my back was screaming with the added weight of my pack, and I had to stop often, at one point laying arched over a fallen tree trying to break the spasm. It was afternoon when I returned to the Wallace Lakes junction, but at that point it was fully in my head that I needed to cut my trip a day short. So I kept moving, willing myself to get as close to the backside of Whitney as I could to be able to hike out the following day. The stretch from Wallace Creek to the Crabtree Meadows junction had a painful number of ups and downs, and it was well after dark by the time I reached the junction. I pitched my tent in a clearing, wolfed down some granola bars, and went to sleep.