Background
Mark and I had tossed around several ideas for a prep climb for Mt. Whitney. I think we could have gone back and forth over peaks and routes for another few weeks, but we basically only had one weekend that we could both make. In addition to all the other training, including running marathons and ultra-marathons for fun, we still needed that key workout at altitude just a couple of weeks before the big climb. The deciding factor was to have a place to camp that would be family friendly and then find a beefy route that we could do in one day. The Mackay Reservoir seemed like a great option and that helped pinpoint our peak selection. We both wanted to do USGS Peak, but the deciding factor on that was why settle for one peak when you could link up 5.
A traverse of the White Knob Mountains became our mission. An attempt to link up all five major summits over 11,000 feet high, including the range highpoint of Shelly Mountain at 11,273ft. Obviously we knew we wouldn't have the summit altitude anywhere near that of Mt. Whitney, but the overall stats were almost identical for our planned routes.
White Knob Mountains projected stats: 14 miles and 6,400 feet of gain.
Mount Whitney projected stats for our planned route: Up the Mountaineers Route, down the Whitney Trail and tagging Mt. Muir along the way - 15 miles and 6,500 feet of gain.
In case you're already bored and/or forgot, please refer to our total stats.
Trip report
We arrived at the camp ground in two groups. Deez, the youngser and I. Then Tory, Mark and their young one Ada who was on her first camping trip. After a short time visiting and planning for the next morning, we settled in for a short night of sleep.
4am came quick. Mark and I snuck out of camp as quickly and as quietly as we could. The drive up Alder Creek Road was fairly benign but there were a few rough and interesting spots. We hit the trail at 5:30 to start the 4,000 foot vertical gain up Shelly Mountain.
Hiking the road just after sunrise.
Shelly Mountain.
Upper east ridge of Shelly. Note the rocky section.
A lot of walking and a couple short breaks got us to the upper portion of Shelly's east ridge where we navigated the iffy/rocky/cliffy section. Mark tried a route up though it and I skirted a little below with both routes being class 3 and joining up in a loose and crumbly gully about 2/3'rds the way though it. It was here that the wind really picked up. One gust was strong enough that it blew my hat off, but I was able to scramble down and back up about 30 feet to reclaim it. I like that hat. In the end, I would say just skirt the entire section at the base, then hike up the open slope to regain the ridge.
Mark climbing though the rocky section.
Mark gaining the upper ridge.
Mark on the summit of Shelly.
We both switched out trucker hats for our buffs. After the rocky section, it was straight forward class 2, but definitely steep. It took us about 4 hours to hike 4.5 miles and 4,000 feet of gain to reach the summit of Shelly. The wind persisted but we figured we were past the crux of the day. Hunkered down on the leeward side of the peak, we took in some calories and the of the rest of our planned route. It looked doable to Lime Mountain, but we couldn't see Cabin and North Cabin well enough to make a determination. We would just have to take it one peak... err... one step at a time.
Smiley Mountain from the northeast.
Looking down the east ridge of Shelly.
Summit of Shelly Mountain. Peak 1 of 5 on the day.
Redbird Mountain from the top of Shelly. Lime Mountain is behind Redbird.
From Shelly to Redbird was a pleasant ridge walk, loosing than re-gaining about 600 feet in about 45 minutes over about 1 mile.
Ridge to Redbird.
Mark topping out on Redbird.
Looking back at Shelly.
Summit of Redbird. Peak 2 of 5.
We took a few pictures but didn't linger in the wind. Our sites were set on Lime Mountain. It felt like we made good time on the goat trails only stopping at the saddle below Lime for a break. From there to the top of Lime it was fun class 2+ but the wind was pushing us around. We figured we could bail off of Lime if we needed to. I kept one eye on the time, one the weather (chance of afternoon thunderstorms) and one on the route (Mark had forgotten his ice ax in camp). Redbird to Lime was more than a mile with a few more hundred feet of gain/loss in about 45 minutes.
Lime Mountain.
Hiking to Lime.
Lime Mountain.
Summit of Lime and peak 3 of 5.
From the top of Lime we had a great view of Cabin and North Cabin. The weather looked like it was holding despite old man Windy McGee hammering us. The route looked clear so we went for it. Cabin Mountain was the fun factor highpoint of the day. It was a neat twisty route with some class 3 and a knee deep snow drift or two; another mile, a few more hundred feet of gain/loss and another 45 minutes.
Cabin and North Cabin Mountain.
Fun section below the summit block of Cabin Mountain.
Class 3 summit block on Cabin.
Summit of Cabin and peak 4 of 5.
We hopped right off of the summit block and headed for North Cabin. Yep, you guessed it - another 45 minutes, another mile and a few more hundred feet of gain/loss. Only this time there was a false summit to be had. We just put or heads down and tried to grind it out as quick as we could. By this point we had been going pretty strong for hours. At least we had now identified that our planned decent route closer to Lime was not a good option and formulated another route that would get us down to the lake on the east side, between the Cabin Peaks.
Heading to North Cabin Mountain.
Summit of North Cabin and peak 5 of 5 on the day.
Back tracking to our descent route.
Borah Peak.
The views had been tremendous all day with Copper Basin and the Pioneer's to the west. The Lost Rivers and Diamond Peak to the east. Smiley Mountain, Castle Peak, DBE, you name it. It was hard to turn our backs to it, but it was time to head down. We did our best to avoid the cornice's and snow all together since it was so warm. Yet even on a small patch maybe 30 feet long and 6-8 inches deep, I triggered a small wet slide that ran for quite a ways.
Wet slide.
Then we were able to fly down the long scree slope to Coral Lake with relative ease. Finally we were able to rest out of the wind, hydrate and fuel up for the long escape.
Coral Lake.
Coral Lake.
Hiking out.
With no viable option other than some bush-whacky cross-country travel and crossing a few snowfields to get back on track, we just sucked it up and hit it; one lovely waist deep post-hole at a time. Then two, then three...
Nearing the saddle on Lime Mountains east ridge.
Then came the uphill slog to the small lake to join up with the trail that goes over the saddle on Lime Mountains east ridge. This was more or less where we planned to end up with our original decent route.
Mark hiking with Lime Mountain in the back.
Remains of an old cabin near the road.
Once we were on the other side of the saddle and on an actual road/trail we tried to move as fast as we could on tired legs.
Pounding the trail on the escape.
Coral Creek flowing over the road.
There were still a few creek crossings and snow patches over the road to slow us down, but we eventually made it back to the car. We were behind the time we thought we would make and that meant worried significant others back in camp. Despite me sending updates via text to Deez all day, I dropped the ball on leaving a detailed plan with ETA. Our return to cell service and subsequent phone call got though just in time before the search party left. We tried to make up for that with treats from the store.
Sorry girls!
We were back in camp and cracking beers well before dark and just in time to cook dinner. It was one heck of a day on a route Mark and I both had high on our lists. Now its time to focus on the next thing. One peak... err... one step at a time.
Happy trails!
Wouldn't it be fun to run from the Boise River, up to Boise Peak and then down to Boise Brewing? Heck yes it would!
Date: May 19, 2018.
Objective: Run from the Boise River, to Boise Peak, to Boise Brewing. Training for Mt. Whitney and the McCall Trail Running Classic 40 miler disguised as a "fun run".
Partners: Mark.
Stats: 26.2 miles, 4,200ft gain and one pitcher of Blond Ale. Strava track.
Gear notes: Trail running kit.
Mark and I had bounced this idea around for almost a year until we set out. Our silly idea of a "fun run" lined up well with my training plan for a 40 mile ultramarathon and it also became a key endurance workout in training for Mt. Whitney. We weren't overly concerned with pace or time on this one. The only thing we targeted was the time Boise Brewing opened for business. Get there too early and we would look like sweaty hobo's waiting for the bar to open. Get there too late and we might have to skip beer-thirty.
We got a 6am start at Julia Davis Park and dipped our hands in the cool water of the Boise River to signify the start of our journey.
Boise River.
From the river we set out across the park, past Zoo Boise (boom, bonus B) and headed though downtown toward the Military Reserve area.
Mark smashing the trail.
From there we joined up with Upper Hulls Gulch and ran past the famous water fall.
Top of Hulls. A familiar view.
Top of Hulls, near 8th Street.
We connected Hulls to 8th Street and the Ridge Road. Smooth sailing so far. Steady pace, steady fueling and hydration. Lots of discussion over our up coming Mt. Whitney climb. Boise Peak is kinda famous for its lack of views and awesome terrain. The highpoint is not obvious and requires a bit of bushwhacking combined with the cunning sense of a meticulous peak bagger.
So much fun!
Boise Peak.
Both Mark and I had been up there before so we were quick to hunt down the high point. We took our packs off, refueled and rested a bit while enjoying the shade. It was borderline chilly there but we knew we would heat up faster than a junkies spoon once we started down.
Logs stacked on the summit.
90% of the way down was the same route, except we bypassed the water fall and took the other - steeper trail back down to Hulls. We were feeling the heat by now, but we were also rationing our fluid. By the time we were back and making our way though downtown we were out of water in temps near 90F. We arrived at the front door of Boise Brewing where Mark's family was waiting, we were about 1/10th of a mile short of marathon distance. We took a lap around the block, hit 26.2 miles, then hit the bar. Fun stuff!
Every spring we like to head out for an easy overnight hike. Two and a half hours from our driveway we were at the trailhead and headed into Baron Creek.
Trailhead.
Otter in tow.
The otter is a silly story that I won't bore you with... We passed another couple that warned us of all the ticks. "I had like seventeen on me" was the statement, I believe. The trail was in pretty good shape, other than one short section that ran right though the middle of a large downed tree.
Deez on the trail.
We had a pretty good weather forecast, but we were expecting showers sometime overnight and into the next afternoon.
Trail Beer.
We had mild temps, scattered clouds an occasional breeze. Really quite pleasant.
View in camp.
It doesn't take long to get to our normal camp site, so we roll kinda lux. Beers, fresh sandwiches, camp chairs and what not.
Beer thirty!
We were hanging around camp, playing a few games of Uno when we noticed a really odd sound coming from the forest. It was really low-pitched and had the rhythm of a basketball being dropped. Or a tennis ball bouncing on a Bongo drum but on a much lower register. Its hard to explain, but trust me, it was weird!
I could't place it and I really don't think I've heard/noticed it before until recently. The mystery sound continued though the night and into the next morning. I was sure this wan't some kind of new phenomenon and that there had to be a perfectly logical explanation. Any guesses? Stay tuned for the answer.
Harry otter not drink so much.
Fireside music, Uno, drinks and chit-chat until the sun went down. Maybe a half dozen mosquito's buzzed the tower. The rain came in sometime overnight and switched to a wet, sloppy rain-snow mix just before sunrise. Fortunately it had stopped around 9 and we were able to pack up in mostly dry conditions. There were just a few sprinkles on the hike out.
Hiking out.
We expected to encounter a tick or two, but in the end the tick count was not-a-one.
Back at home, I went to the Google machine to try to figure out what the heck that strange noise was. Turns out it was a Ruffed Grouse drumming. And now we know.
