White Mountain Peak - the easy way

Bill Bushnell — Tuesday, August 3, 1993

I arrived at Mammoth Lakes on Friday July 30 to stay with a group of friends at a rented condo for the next five nights. After doing two hikes and one long bike ride at altitude, I felt I was ready for the White Mountain adventure.

I learned that there is a supported mountain bike ride up White Mountain Peak that starts in Laws, CA and rides up Silver Canyon. This ride happened happened on the previous weekend. Since I had never tried to ride the trail to the peak and since I had never brought myself to over 14,000 feet, I decided to drive as far as I could and ride the final miles to the summit. Maybe next year I’ll try riding up Silver Canyon.

There was also the danger of being caught in a thunderstorm while riding along the exposed ridge. The danger is not of getting wet, but of being struck by lightning. At 12,000 feet altitude and higher, nothing grows taller than about 8” except the giant marmots—not even the shrubbery. (The knights who used to say “Nih!” would not be happy here!)

The Sierras had been host to many large thunderstorms over the last few days. The morning would break clear and warm, but by 14:00, the sky would be dark with booming and threatening clouds. I wanted to be off the peak by noon.

After a fitful sleep I awake at 3:30. I had originally planned to leave at 6:00, but since I can’t sleep any more, I get up, eat breakfast, and get ready to leave. When I pull out of the condo complex at 5:00, I push the car out to the street before starting it so as not to wake the others in my party. My car can be noisy when all else is quiet.

The mostly downhill drive on US-395 to Bishop is beautiful as I am treated to a clear sunrise over the White Mountains. As I ascend the arroyo on CA-168 from Big Pine, I look back and see the top peaks of the high Sierra bathed in early morning sunlight with the setting moon in the background.

I reach the end of the paved road at the Schulman Bristlecone Pine Grove at about 7:45, but now I have to drive about 15 miles of very rough and washboarded dirt road to get to the White Mountain trailhead. This has got to be the worst road I’ve ever driven in my car.

Despite this, the terrain is beautiful. The dirt road ascends and descends several intermediate ridges at altitudes between 10,000 and 12,000 feet over white dolomite soil. It is a moonscape. Except for the Bristlecone pines, there are no trees.

At 8:30 I finally start riding. The first two miles climb a moderately steep dirt road to the University of California Barcroft Laboratory at over 12,000 feet altitude, the last place of civilization before the peak. The road is reasonably smooth. It’s certainly in better condition than the washboard road I drove on.

At the end of the laboratory yard, the trail itself begins. This first ascent climbs the short hill behind the laboratory on steep switchbacks. The trail is very rough, alternating between large rocks (4-10” diameter) and dusty, sandy soil. I am forced to walk about half of it as my front wheel cannot maintain contact with the ground long enough to allow me to steer. I notice the aggressive tread pattern of MTB tires on the soil portions. I wonder if these are from the Laws ride two days earlier.

At the brow of the hill stands an old observatory building. Beyond I can see the peak itself, about 4 miles away. I descend the trail on the other side riding most of the way over large rocks and sand pits. At the shallow saddle point, the trail turns into one big sand pit. I manage to ride most of the way through, but the friction is high, and finally I stop and walk a brief distance.

From here, the trail climbs gradually up the ridge nearest the peak. I ride nearly all of this section. About 3 miles from the laboratory, the trail descends very steeply down what looks like an old streambed, but couldn’t possibly be, to the final saddle point before the peak. I cannot ride any of this; even walking the bike is difficult.

At the saddle point, I remount and ride up the first switchback to the peak. The turns are very steep and dusty. Traction is difficult, so I walk. But I manage to ride up most of the straight sections of trail until I pass beyond the last of the vegetation at about 13,500 feet. From here the trail is on broken shale and other metamorphic rock that gives way under the wheels, so I am forced to walk.

Some short sections can be ridden, but doing so is almost as tiring as walking. A couple hundred feet below the summit, snow covers the road. I manage to find a way around the lowest patch, but after the next switchback, the coverage thwarts my progress.

The snow is still deep and icy with 2-5’ cups. It’d be impossible to ride across this stuff. The actual ridge-line is clear of snow, but since it’s still about 150 feet of vertical to the summit, I decide to leave my bike parked next to the snow (on its kickstand!) and scramble up the scree on foot.

It would have been nice to get a picture of the bike at the summit, and I suppose I would have had the time to carry it up. But, I am worried about thunderstorms, and I don’t want to slip and twist an ankle or worse as help is far away, and I am alone.

After eating lunch and taking the obligatory panorama pictures around the peak, I scramble down the rocks to my bike, which is still standing. How out of place it looks!

The ride/walk down takes much less time. Because I want to avoid an injurious fall on the sharp rock, I descend conservatively, dismounting and walking when I feel the risk is too great. When I reach the part of the trail with soil, I ride, but the corners are too slippery and steep for comfort. I ride nearly all of the lower switchbacks; I even manage to ride through the sand pit at the saddle point. What fun!

However, the very steep and rocky upgrade to the nearby ridge is just as difficult to ascend as it was to descend. At the top of this ridge, I ride nearly all the way down and then back up to the hill with the old observatory, dismounting only when I am unable to pick a stable path through the rocks and sand.

On this stretch I get accustomed to descending more quickly over the bumpy terrain. I would not have thought it possible to attain fairly high speeds over this stuff (15-17 mph), but it is actually easier to ride at faster speeds. I think this is because when the bike is moving more quickly it has more momentum and cannot as easily be deflected off the trail by rocks or other obstacles. Even so, a strong hand is required to hold the handlebars straight. It is easier to pick a path in the center of the trail over the rocks than it is to ride in the ruts on either side. I am tempted to ride on the shoulder of the road, but I realize this would in effect widen the trail and damage the surrounding environment. While riding quickly, rocks are turned and some fly into the spokes. Another one flies into my right shin giving me an abrasion.

As I climb the final upgrade to the hill with the observatory, I come upon a lone hiker heading for the peak, the first person I’ve seen on the trail.

“Hello. Are you hiking up to the peak?”, I ask.

“Yeah.”, he says, with a distinct Brooklyn accent.

“Make sure you get enough water. It’s very dry. And watch out for thunderstorms. If you see one coming your way, don’t continue the climb.”, I warn.

“A guy at the laboratory just gave me some water, and I know all about thunderstorms. I’m carrying rain gear.”, he replies.

“O.K. Watch out for lightning. You’ll be the highest thing on the ridge.”, I say.

We talk a little more, and he asks me about my bike, which, he is amazed to learn, is fitted with slick tires, none too fat for this trail. After a few more minutes, I wish him well, and continue on.

At the observatory, I ride part way down the steep switchbacks to the laboratory, but about halfway down, I find I do not feel comfortable riding, so I walk. From the laboratory I ride quickly down the dirt road back to the car.

On the way while trying to stop and take a picture, I slip and nearly fall onto the road. With a hop of my left foot, I manage to stay astride the top tube, and when the front wheel slams into the embankment, the bike bucks forward as if to send me over the bars. But there isn’t quite enough force to flip the bike so I rise up and slam down onto the saddle nearly groining myself. I feel really stupid. This is the easiest section of road, too.

I arrive at the car just as the sky becomes threatening. The wind has picked up and big thunderheads are starting to form over Owens Valley and the Sierras beyond. I hope the hiker made it off the peak in time!

I don’t see how people ride up from Laws unless the supported ride has many water stops. The White Mountains are completely dry. There is no water available, so any water you have must be carried up. I took 103 oz. of water on my bike for the ride, and I drank nearly all of it by the time I returned to the car. I neither dehydrated nor did I feel any hint of altitude sickness. The only symptoms I noticed were a slight shortness of breath after a particularly hard exertion.

The drive down the dirt road from the trailhead is much worse than the drive up. The wind is from the north and blows at about the same speed as I drive. A ball of dust surrounds the car, and even with the windows shut, thick films of dust form over everything inside. Yuck! When I reach the Schulman Grove, I stop and clean the inside of the car. I skip taking the trail through the grove as a thunderstorm comes over just as I finish cleaning. Ka-Boom! What a beautiful place, in sight and sound.

Ride stats:

distance: 14.6 miles

climbing: 3500 feet

maximum altitude: 14,242 (third highest peak in California)

total time: 4:39

riding time: 3:15

average speed: 4.4 mph

maximum speed: 22.5 mph

index: 27

irp: 5.8

mirp: 8.3

cd: 212

cr: 0.0402

An article on indexing can be found here.

©2004, Bill Bushnell

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