Summitting Mt. Kilimanjaro (19,341′) via the Rongai Route

January 10, 2016November 13, 2016 / Rachel / Leave a comment

Reach the Roof of Africa, Mt. Kilimanjaro (19,341’), on this high-altitude Tanzanian adventure, on the easiest non-technical climb of the world’s Seven Summits. Expect to spend 6-7 days hiking on the Rongai route.

Overview: 6 days, 43.8 miles, 12,945 ft. elevation gain

Kilimanjaro is the highest free-standing mountain in the world since it stands alone from any mountain range, making its size and height all the more impressive. Because of its reputation, ease of accessibility, and Tanzania’s affordability, this is an incredibly popular mountain to climb and therefore laden with lots of red tape. It is required to organize this climb through a licensed mountain operator, as well as follow one of the official climbing routes – so be sure to do your due diligence and research the right route for you!

The Rongai Route is one of the least traveled ways up Africa’s tallest peak, allowing a more remote hiking experience. Unlike the southern routes, Rongai is a moorland or high-altitude desert climate, with far less precipitation than rainforest routes. The Rongai route meets the Marangu route on the final night to follow this trail to the summit.

Most, if not all, of the routes up the mountain begin in the town of Arusha, Tanzania, accessed by the Kilimanjaro International Airport (JRO). For this particular itinerary, you’ll head to the northeastern side of the mountain along the border of Kenya, about a five hour drive from Arusha. Expect to spend 6-7 days hiking on the Rongai route.

Day 1: Nale Moru (1,950 m/6,400 ft.) + Simba Camp (2,650 m/8,700 ft.)

Walking distance: 6.5km/4 miles
Elevation gain: 700m/2,300 ft.

Today is the start of it all, beginning at the Rongai Gate in Nale Moru. After registering with park officials and finalizing the last of your packing, your hike starts through fields and a few small villages. You’ll spend the night at Simba Camp, close to the First Cave, overlooking the Kenyan plains.

Day 2: Kikelewa Caves (3,600 m/11,810 ft.)

Walking distance: 9 km/5.6 miles
Elevation gain: 950m/3,110 ft.

On the second day, vegetation grows thinner and you’ll enter into a truly high-alpine desert biosphere. Pass by the Second Cave (where you might stop for lunch) and end your day at Kikelewa Camp, next to the Kikelewa Cave.

Day 3: Mawenzi Tarn (4,330m/14,210 ft.)

Walking distance: 6km/3.7 miles
Elevation gain: 730m/2,400 ft.

As the week progresses, your days grow shorter, and this hike to Mawenzi Tarn should only take a couple hours as your body adjusts to the higher elevations. This is when proper hydration and a slow pace (pole, pole, as the Tanzanians would say) play a huge part in your successful acclimatization. You’ll spend this night at Mawenzi Tarn and have plenty of time in the afternoon to explore the plains and rocky outcrops in this vast area.

Day 4: Kibo Huts (4,330 m/15,420 ft.)

Walking distance: 9km/5.6 miles
Elevation gain: 370m/1,215 ft.

This is the point where the Rongai Route meets up with the Marangu Route for your final summit push. You’ll want to leave Mawenzi Tarn early this morning so that you have plenty of time to rest and prepare for your summit bid later in the night. The Kibo Huts are a little like a semi-permanent village, with huge crowds from both routes and plenty of noise and excitement.

Dancing at the summit of Uhuru Peak, Kilimanjaro.

Day 5: Summit via Gilman’s Point to Uhuru Peak (5,895m/19,340 ft.) to Horombo Huts (3,700m/12,200 ft.)

Walking distance: 5km/3.1 miles ascent + 15km/9.3 miles descent
Elevation gain: 1,195m/3,920 ft.
Elevation loss: 2,195m/7,200 ft.

Day 5 begins late night of Day 4, waking, eating, and heading out of camp by midnight for your summit bid. The first half of your early-morning leading up to Gilman’s Point (5,700m/18,700 ft.) will be full of undulating switchbacks that may be made more brutal by biting cold and harsh winds, as we were. From Gilman’s Point you’ll get to look into the huge volcanic crater and surrounding ice caps, with the true summit just ahead. The crater rim to your left leads you all the way to Uhuru Peak with the famous summit sign of Kilimanjaro.

Unfortunately this last push is where hikers are most likely to feel the full affects of altitude sickness, and we saw lots of folks being ushered or even carried down the mountain at this point. That’s why it’s all the more important to limit your time at the top and descend quickly, back to the Kibo Huts for some fuel and a short break, before you’ll continue on to the Horombo Huts.

Day 6: Marangu Gate (1,860m/6,102 ft.)

Walking distance: 20km/12.5 miles
Elevation loss: 1,840m/6,040 ft.

After all of the climbing you’ve accomplished, this hike out should feel like a piece of cake. Descending on the southside, you’ll be immersed in a beautiful rainforest as well as the infamous crowds you avoided to the north heading up for their chance at the summit. Take your time, enjoy the scenery, and give yourself a huge high-five once you’ve reached the final Marangu Gate.

The final crater rim walk up to Uhuru Peak from Gilman’s Point.

While this climb is truly non-technical and often described as “easy” or a simple “walk-up,” proper planning and packing is essential to any climber’s success. Freak weather storms, freezing temperatures, and debilitating altitude sickness can occur at any time without warning. Pack for everything, and be prepared for anything.

Packing List

Wool hat + sun hat
Sunglasses
Sunscreen, +SPF chapstick
Heavyweight gloves
3+ upper body layers – shirts, fleece, long underwear
Hardshell rain jacket
Down jacket
2+ lower body layers – trekking pants, long underwear
Hardshell waterproof pants
Gaiters
6+ pairs wool socks
Sturdy hiking boots
Trekking poles
Headlamp + extra batteries
40+ liter backpack
Sleeping bag + sleeping pad
2+ liter water bottles
Iodine or other water treatment
First aid kit
Deck of cards, journal, or charming humor for afternoons spent acclimatizing at camp

Rim to Rim to Rim: Running Across the Grand Canyon

November 5, 2015 / Rachel / 2 Comments

Known as the Rim 2 Rim 2 Rim, or the Rim3, crossing the Grand Canyon back and forth in the course of a day is an ultra-marathon feat attempted by hikers, runners, and athletes of all ages and activity level. My friend Nina had completed the entire run the last two years in a row and was back with a vendetta to beat her previous time of 15 hours. She talked me into joining her, and after reluctantly buying a plane ticket, and then ambitiously taking on this double-marathon day, I owe her an entire world of thanks for pushing and inspiring me beyond my limits.

The general rule of thumb: Run downhill, walk when necessary, and hike uphill. I followed this rule pretty steadily, running or jogging where I could, and walking when I felt like it. I’m surprising myself as I type this, but I truly found this endeavor to be much more reasonable than I’d thought it would be a week before. I stressed myself out and built up this number in my head – 46 miles – asking myself over and over what was I thinking.

The truth is, the Grand Canyon is essentially an inverted mountain. So by comparing it to what I was familiar with (mountain climbing), moving at a pace I knew I could maintain, and keeping a large reserve of strength and energy for the final push back up the South Rim, I found the feat totally manageable. With the right gear, physical training, and nutrition preparation, it was a cinch. And honestly, more than half of it was mental: overcoming my own self-doubt.

We started the day with a 2:00am alarm, wolfing down pop-tarts and coffee until our taxi arrived. It was a short ride to the South Kaibab Trail, which is the shorter and steeper route down the South Rim. We would return up the Bright Angel Trail, a longer and more gradual ascent up the South Rim that would land us right near the doorstep of our hotel.

We started running at 2:50am. We wouldn’t see sunlight for nearly four hours.

Sunrise slowly lit everything up around us at 6:30am. Here's looking back at the South Rim, around mile 10.

The first rays of sunlight creeping into the canyon, looking back at the South Rim, around mile 10.

Our headlamps worked well, we kept a good enough pace as to not lose our footing, and we moved downhill at a quick clip. It took us a little under two hours to reach the valley floor, 7.5 miles blown by like that.

We were walking in the pitch dark for what turned out to be one of the most beautiful parts of the trail, where it winds along the Colorado River with two-thousand foot canyon walls bordering your either side. This flat portion of trail, with an ever-gradual incline, continued from Phantom Ranch for 7.3 miles to Cottonwood Campground, where we took our first break. Nina and I ate Clif bars and energy gels while watching campers waking up and filling up their water for the day. We were both carrying 2 liters that morning, so we made mental notes to stop by here on our way back through.

Sunlight slowly creeping into the canyon, around mile 11.

A steady incline takes hikers from Cottonwood to the 8,000 ft. North Rim over 6.3 miles, passing by a few other campgrounds and stopping points (which we did not use to their name). Finally, the entire canyon was lit up with the morning and we could clearly see the towering red walls around us.

When we departed Cottonwood Campground I removed the trekking poles I’d had strapped to my backpack, de-collapsed them, and used them for the rest of the climb. Many R3’ers choose not to bring poles, but that day I saw around half of the runners we ran into on the trail using them – and I found that they psychologically saved me on the final ascent up the South Rim.

Ascending the canyon walls to the North Rim, around mile 17.

Mile 19 or so, approaching our 22 mile turnaround point.

We reached the North Rim at around 9:50am, where we were greeted by an ultra-runner friend, and where we promptly sat down and inhaled our lunches as quickly as we could. We weren’t sitting for more than 10 minutes before the chilly morning air and altitude began to set into our bones, so again we took off.

All smiles at the North Rim halfway point! Mile 22.

Not long after departing the thin air at the North Rim, Nina and I split up. She’s speedy as hell on these downhill sections, whereas I don’t trust my footing as much, am much more careful especially around steps. Plus, this was my first time seeing the Grand Canyon in all its glory, so our split gave me the chance to stop and take photos and enjoy the canyon at my leisure.

After having begun my descent back into the canyon – there’s no turning back now!

One of the dozens of bridges crossing the canyon between both rims, around mile 25.

I stripped off my leggings and jacket. The day was heating up, and I could feel the sun draining me even though the valley floor had a high of 67 degree Fahrenheit. The heat-absorbing walls of the Grand Canyon would trap the sun and raise that high temperature to at least 80 degrees.

Three miles down the North Rim, I ran out of water. No problem, I thought, knowing that in 3.3 miles I’d pass by Cottonwood Campground where I could refuel with the pump I saw campers using that morning. Unfortunately, and as Murphy’s Law would have it, there was a pipeline break during the morning and the Cottonwood faucets were turned off by the time I arrived. I normally wouldn’t have thought twice, but I’d been going three miles, and had 7.5 miles ahead of me, and with the increased heat of the canyon – I didn’t know what kind of shape I’d be in after over 10 miles running without water.

Lucky for me, I ran into a couple with the same problem, except that their problem had an easy solution: A small, palm-sized water filter. They filled me up using water from the river and I took off again.

Flat, slightly-downhill traverse to Phantom Ranch, around mile 28.

As I mentioned before, this must have been my most favorite part of the trail, winding along the Colorado River with the canyon walls jutting up to either side of me. I also took more time here, running when I felt like it, and following the pace of other joggers and hikers when I wanted to give my legs a break.

Nina and I had met a hiker that morning who I ran into here again. This man could not have been younger than my parents, and had hiked the R2R2R the day before, repeating his journey today. He followed up by saying “Yesterday was my 90th time completing the rim to rim to rim, so today must be my 91st in 12 years.” Passing him a second time, he gave me a slap on the back and said I had a great pace for my first time. I ran on.

Getting close to Phantom Ranch, around 33 miles.

Reaching Phantom Ranch, around mile 35.5, was the first time I really refilled my water since we’d started. I loaded up a little over 2 liters (since I was carrying a 3 liter bladder), but the stale taste of water nauseated me in the shade. So I walked over to the general store, bought a large, ice-cold lemonade, and sat on the porch with my feet kicked up, checking my map and chatting with other hikers I’d met throughout the day. After halfheartedly trying to eat part of my second Clif bar, I downed my lemonade and raced ahead of a mule pack to complete the last 10 miles of my journey.

Crossing the Silver Bridge to the Bright Angel Trail, around mile 36.

Looking back on the Silver Bridge over the muddy Colorado River.

I pulled my trekking poles out for the second time of the day for this final ascent. Crossing the muddy Colorado River across the famed Silver Bridge of the Canyon, I knew I wouldn’t actually see my goal of the South Rim for another few hours. Even though you’re slowly pulling yourself up towards the sky, the Bright Angel Trail weaves within the canyon for miles before dropping you out at its busy trailhead.

Ascending the Bright Angel trail, still near mile 37.

This was the first part of the trail that started to really hurt. I’d been hiking alone for a few hours, passing slower groups, and eventually found a park ranger catching up with me. I asked if I could follow her to match her pace since she was moving quicker, and we talked for about an hour until we reached Indian Campground.

This ranger had plenty of questions for me, since she said people completing the Rim3 were usually, well, running. She mentioned that at the park opening this year on the first of May, 700 runners showed up to attempt the entire 46 miles. Many wouldn’t make it. Additionally, she said she couldn’t believe how many people attempted the R2R2R during the middle of the summer, when heat in the canyon rises to 130 degrees. Overall it sounded like runners and hikers are generally ill-prepared, without having done much environmental research, resource planning, or physical training.

Since the Grand Canyon’s limited resources (water, human waste disposal) isn’t meant for the numbers that recent influxes have been bringing in, the Rim to Rim to Rim challenge may soon see a permitting process.

Getting close to the Indian Campground, around mile 41.

Looking down at the valley, partway up the South Rim, around mile 42.

Those last 4.5 miles from Indian Campground… whew. Even though the Bright Angel Trail was much more gradual and all-around easier than our descent down the South Kaibab, there was just something about passing the 40 mile marker that made my legs want to give out. So I just straightened my back, held my head up, and powered through past day hikers, backpackers, and leisure walkers. I had a goal: Reach the South Rim by sunset.

Mile 43. So, so close.

The Grand Canyon turned out to be like so many of the other beautiful places I get to visit, as a person who loves exploring new trails. It was new, exciting, jaw-dropping, and completely worthy of the attention and praise it receives as one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. But like so many other places, photos and words don’t do it justice. I could have taken a hundred photos and written a dozen blog posts, but nothing could encapsulate the way the air cooled down as the sun began to creep behind the canyon walls. Nothing could capture the happiness and peacefulness on trail-goers faces as they walked with their necks craned upwards, smiles smeared across their faces. Maybe even I’ll forget how that felt, and how this place looked like, until I come back again.

Mile 45, counting down the minutes until the light fades from the day over the canyon.

I reached the top of the Bright Angel Trail at 5:45pm, just 5 minutes before the 15 hour goal Nina and I had set – though I was a full 45 minutes behind her, she ended up beating her previous time by over an hour! Reflecting on the time I spent alone, I was happy I had taken more breaks, stopping for more photos, and got to kick my feet up at the lodge before my final trek… but at the same time, all I could think about was how much faster I could go the next time.

I ended my day without any broken spirits or blisters. In fact, I was only sprawled out on our hotel room floor like a starfish for a couple of minutes before showering and dragging our sore bodies to the Bright Angel cafeteria, where we enjoyed sugary drinks and carbohydrate-loaded dinners.

If not for the deliciously addictive lemonade at Phantom Ranch, I’ll be back to see the Grand Canyon one day again soon.

Mile 46, sore but happy smiles.

QUICK STATS

Length: 46 miles
South Rim: 6,800 ft.
North Rim: 8,000 ft.
Elevation gain: ~ 11,000 ft.
Time: 14 hours 55 min

White Mountain Peak via Barcroft Station; Third-highest Peak in California

August 19, 2015 / Rachel / Leave a comment

White Mountain Peak (14,252′) stands above every other highpoint in Mono County, the White Mountains, and is just 250′ shorter than Mt. Whitney, the tallest peak in the contiguous United States at 14,505′. Its claims are impressive, but the climb isn’t as demanding or romantic as some of its Sierra neighbors. In fact, the most popular route takes hikers up a gravel 4WD road straight to the summit.

Sunrise over the White Mountains.

Neither of us were completely prepared for the drive in to the White Mountain Peak unofficial trailhead. We’d slept at the cozy climbing-themed Hostel California in Bishop the night before, and took off towards Big Pine at 4:45am. Heading south on US-395, we turned left (east) onto US-168, which is a windy two-lane road that ascends into the White Mountains. After 13 miles on this highway, we found the clearly-marked White Mountain Road on our left (north). This road starts off nicely paved, continuing for 9.5 miles to Schulman Grove, where the pavement ends and a 17-mile 4WD gravel road begins.

Now, for contrast’s sake, the National Forest Service declares the 6-mile road leading to the Queen Mine route of Boundary Peak to be a 2WD road – but we found the White Mountain Road to be in much better shape and much more passable than Boundary’s (you can read that blog post to get a better idea of what we put my Jeep Liberty through). Either way, those 17 miles on gravel stretched out a lot farther than we initially expected, and we didn’t reach the parking area at Barcroft gate until 6:30am – making our total travel time from Bishop 1 hour & 45 minutes.

Far-off views of the long, windy 17-mile road that takes you to Barcroft gate.

Our first view of White Mountain Peak in the distance.

Nina and I had just climbed Boundary Peak (13,140′) the day before we took off to White Mountain, so we were feeling strong and acclimatized. The “trailhead” begins at the Barcroft gate, about 1.6 miles below the facility (despite the sign reading 2 miles), at 11,670′. This means you only have about 2,600′ total elevation gain to look forward to, though the rising and falling slopes leading to the base of the mountain add a few hundred feet to this total.

Barcroft gate; the official start of the White Mountain Peak climb.

Here’s a breakdown of our timing:

4:45am: Left Bishop, CA.
6:30am: Arrived at trailhead (1:45 travel time).
6:40am: Departed trailhead.
9:15am: Arrived at White Mountain Peak summit.
9:25am: Descended from summit.
11:15am: Arrived back at the car.

Barcroft Station – Check out that white sedan, if he can make it, I’d guess nearly any car could!

Like I’d mentioned above, hikers follow this gravel road for 7.5 miles all the way up to the summit. The elevation gain trailhead to summit is around 2,500′, but because the trail slopes up and down throughout, our total elevation gain was about 3,500′. There is a more challenging route up the West Ridge described by Summitpost, but this entails gaining 9,000′ of elevation in just 10 miles. Nina and I had neither the time, nor desire, to take on that endeavor.

Nina making her way up the last couple hundred feet to the summit.

We made a few extra shortcuts on the last few hundred feet to the summit. While the gravel road continues to wind in steep traverses, there are some crude hiker trails that are easy to follow, and large enough rocks for scrambling.

The White Mountain Peak summit cabin.

Before we knew it, we were on top! Most notably, we were impressed that it wasn’t as cold on the summit as we expected. Everyone we’d passed throughout the day (3 different groups) were bundled up in pants and jackets, while we skipped along in hot pink shorts and tank tops. We were lucky enough to have a thin cloud coverage all day, so we were shaded from the 100 degree heat infecting the valley.

Nina and I on self-timer at the summit of White Mountain Peak.

Nina and I on the summit of White Mountain Peak.

“Descending” the long approach that leads to White Mountain.

We were up there!

Like many descents, this one flew by, and before we knew it we were back at the Barcroft station mid-morning. Because Nina’s a badass climbing machine, she suggested we trail run the last few miles that gradually descended back to our car, which saved us some extra time. We said goodbye after a successful high-altitude weekend and promised to reconnect over another 13er or 14er soon.

QUICK STATS

Length: 15 miles
Trailhead: 11,670′
Summit: 14,246′
Elevation gain: 2,576′ (3519′ total with up & down slopes according to Nina’s Runkeeper)
Time: 5.5 hours

A few resources I found helpful before this climb…

Summitpost route description and directions to Barcroft.
Timberline Trails route description.
Great trail description from Scaruffi.
Route description from Natural Born Hiker.

Boundary Peak via Queen Mine; Highpoint of Nevada

August 19, 2015 / Rachel / 2 Comments

Nina and I met in June while climbing Mt. Baker and immediately bonded over this shared ambition to explore the highest peaks of the west coast. Just a month after exchanging contact information we put together a plan to meet halfway between San Francisco and Orange County to hike up the tallest mountain in Nevada, Boundary Peak (13,140′).

And actually, two days before we were meeting, we decided to tack White Mountain Peak (14,252′) onto our travel plans for a 13er and 14er two-fer weekend.

Let’s talk about getting there. You’ll find the beginning of a gravel road 9 miles east of Benton off of Highway 6, on your right (south) side of the road, just across from an abandoned ranch (see Summitpost for more detailed directions). I realize now that many of the sites I was using as a reference were as many as a dozen years old, and the 6.2 mile gravel road between Highway 6 and Queen Mine has severely deteriorated since then. I drive a 4WD Jeep Liberty Sports Edition, and sincerely doubted my car’s ability to get through the ruts and deep gouges that tore up this washed-out road. Maybe the conditions have worsened in just the last two years – a trip report I read from 2013 said this road was “easy peasy” in a 4×4 pickup.

In comparison, the following day we drove up the arduous 17-mile White Mountain Peak gravel path, which is labeled as a 4WD-only road by the National Forest Service, and we found this much more passable than the Queen Mine route. Either way, we were happy to get out of the car to start our climb.

We left my car at Queen Mine proper, an obviously large flat area next to a couple of open mine shafts. There was about 700 vertical feet, 1 mile, of road walking until we reached the trailhead register at Kennedy Point and our real hike began.

The Queen Mine trailhead register.

This first part of the hike was steep, and I could feel the altitude at 10,000 ft. sucking at my lungs. It didn’t take too long to ascend this first ridge, which flattens out after just a thousand feet into a nice sloping meadow where you can see wild horses, deer, and marmots. The Trail Canyon saddle slopes down to the left of this ridge and is unofficially “marked” with a pile of rocks and logs that created a perfect morning break spot to fuel up and hydrate before tackling the peak.

Here’s an overall breakdown of our timing:

7:00am: Left Queen Mine trailhead
8:30am: Took a break at the Trail Canyon saddle
10:15am: Reached the summit of Boundary Peak
11:00am: Departed the summit
12:30pm: Took a second break at the Trail Canyon saddle
1:45pm: Arrived back at the car

Our first views of Boundary Peak, a little less than a thousand feet above the trailhead… with wild horses!

These first views were quite intimidating, but it was really only from this point that we could see the entire mountain. As soon as we descended to the Trail Canyon saddle, we could only see that first false-summit on the right. In fact, we’d forgotten about this image and believed that we were walking up to this first (much shorter) peak, to the actual summit.

Finally heading up Boundary Peak.

You can see what we thought was the true summit here, when we really had an extra 1.5 hours and near a thousand vertical feet to gain still. The trail was reasonably sloped, covered in rocks and scree. It might’ve taken us just as much time to go up as it did to return since we were constantly slipping on the unstable conditions.

Looking down at Trail Canyon saddle. Farther to the right you can see the slightly uphill path that leads to Queen Mine.

Our favorite view of Boundary Peak.

This was the “ah-hah” moment where we realized we were very, very miscalculated in our summit estimating. Overall, the trail was well-defined, and we never had too much of a problem finding the path once we’d wandered off. There were parts we chose to follow rock paths and bouldered up to avoid unnecessary elevation gain or loss, but the ridge was relatively easy to follow.

Looking across Nevada at the summit.

Reaching the summit felt like quite the accomplishment! We could see across Nevada and over to the Sierras and Yosemite region of California. On the top, Montgomery Peak (13,442′) loomed back at us from California. We speculated where the state border actually laid, and contemplated a second summit, but couldn’t spot a good trail and noted that the final 800 or so feet looked a little too sketchy.

Summit of Boundary Peak, looking across to Montgomery Peak, a few hundred feet higher.

Looking down the ridge we ascended from the summit.

Returning down the way we came, we used the ridge above as a natural handrail and made our own path until we met with the Trail Canyon saddle again. We had run into 3 other groups during the day, and all 3 had also come from Queen Mine. Notably – we were also the only women we saw on the mountain that day (girl power!)

Returning through the meadow until dipping down to the left to Queen Mine.

Looking down the valley from Queen Mine.

Below you can see where we chose to park – at the entrance to the abandoned Queen Mine. You can faintly see the road continuing up the ridge on steep switchbacks that take you 700′ up to Kennedy Point and the official trailhead. I never got a shot in the morning, but there was enough room for a few cars and tents with a firepit just to the right of my Jeep. By the time we arrived back at the car in the early afternoon, it was hot. The cool breeze that had kept us company at altitude disappeared once we’d reached the valley. Since this is one of the most remote desert hikes, and there are no sources of water along the trail, I’d highly recommend bringing three liters of water.

This is my recommended parking spot, next to the Queen Mine, before the super-rugged road conditions start to the traditional trailhead.

Leaving the trailhead, we were back in Bishop by 3:00pm… With just enough time to feed our hiker hunger and get ready for our ascent of White Mountain Peak in the morning.

QUICK STATS

Length: 10.4 miles
Trailhead: 9,200 ft.
Summit: 13,146 ft.
Elevation gain: 4,000 ft.
Time: 6:45 total, 6:00 moving

A few resources I found really helpful before this climb…

Boundary Peak on Peakbagger.com
Step-by-step of Queen Mine route by Calipidder
Queen Mine route on Summitpost
A second Queen Mine report on Summitpost

Montara Mountain from Graywhale Cove State Beach

July 13, 2015 / Rachel / Leave a comment

This weekend I ventured to a popular seaside trail that’s just 20 minutes south of San Francisco. Leaving the city using I-280, I took the Highway 1 exit for just about 10 miles to one of the northern-most trail entrances. There are actually four different routes you can take up to the peak of Montara Mountain, depending on which trailhead you choose to park at:

3.5 miles from San Pedro Valley County Park trailhead.
3.9 miles from Mc Nee Ranch trailhead.
4.1 miles from Farralone Cutoff, Montara.
4.8 miles from Graywhale Cove SB.

This parking lot will get full as the day goes on – this is what it looked like at 10:30 am. The first quarter-mile of the hike climbs upwards and then slopes out into a flat trail that continues around the hills. This trail makes for a very popular and crowded place for day hikers, trail runners, and cyclists.

Follow the path south, until it turns inward. Within a half mile the trail will fork into two directions: A steep upward slope to your left (an unofficial “shortcut” that will take 1.5 miles off), or continuing to the right, where the trail makes a slow, windy ascent through some shade on a fire road.

On the fire road, looking up a few miles and about 2,000 vertical feet to the top of Montara Mountain.

At the top of this forested section, the fire road runs into the end of the shortcut before continuing up incredibly steep, exposed, dusty slopes. There’s no shade for the last few miles here, so you’ll want to bring some kind of sun protection.

This dusty, rocky trail continues up a few more miles to the summit. Along the way are cutoffs to other trails, and I ran into a lot of other hikers and runners who had joined up near the top from different directions around the mountain.

At the top, you’ll enjoy valley views as well as a stretched-out look at Pacifica and its popular beaches. Since this was a pretty grueling incline without any place to hide from the sun, I promise you’ll enjoy the way down much more than the ascent!

QUICK STATS

Length: 9.6 miles
Elevation gain: ~2,000 ft.
Time: 2 hours

Mt. Diablo Base to Summit

May 21, 2015 / Rachel / Leave a comment

As isolated as it is impressive, Mt. Diablo has the second largest visual prominence in the world, behind Mt. Kilimanjaro. That means from its summit you can see the Sierra Nevadas to the east and even Mt. Lassen, 181 miles north. It’s truly one of the most demanding peaks in the Bay Area, and makes for a hell of a day hike.

Starting up Eagle Creek Trail with the summit in clear view ahead of us

I’d been up Diablo three years ago and decided to do the opposite loop from that time. This way was much more scenic, forested, and less crowded than taking the fire road up, albeit much more challenging. Here’s the distance breakdown:

Oak Road (fire road): 0.3 miles
Eagle Peak Trail: 3.1 miles
Bald Ridge Trail: 1.5 miles
North Peak Trail: 0.9 miles
Summit Trail: 0.7 miles (up to Visitor Center & Lookout)
Juniper Trail: 1.4 miles
Deer Flat Roadd (fire road): 1.6 miles
Mitchell Canyon Road (fire road): 3.7 miles
Total: 13.2 miles

Taking a break before heading up Bald Ridge Trail.

The steep ascent up Eagle Peak Trail was without a doubt, the most challenging of the day. Still, we made incredible time. We’d been warned – and expected – to have a 6 to 8 hour day ahead of us, but we reached the summit after only 2.5 hours of hiking. Descending took almost as long, probably because by the end of the day we were all exhausted and dragging our feet down the hills. Still, we were all in all very happy with our route choice and end time.

Partway up Bald Ridge Trail… yet the summit still seems so far away.

Clear views of the valley on the final ascent up the Summit Trail.

Corner of the lookout from the Mt. Diablo Visitor Center.

The one thing I remembered most about this hike from completing it years before was the anticlimactic feeling of arriving at the summit surrounded by people who had driven up. Still, there was a number of hikers who looked as rugged and worn out as we’d felt, lined up at the summit water spigot. Both the Visitor Center and lookout platform offer great 360 degree views and is lined with binoculars for far-off views on clear days.

Like I’d mentioned before, our route down was much less scenic, following a wide fire road for the entire journey. We saw larger groups of people ascending this direction, or stopping partway at scattered picnic tables. This road really drags on, and since it’s a couple miles longer (but less steep), than the way up – we were more than ready to throw down our packs and call it a day once we’d reached the car.

Beginning of a long, windy descent down the Deer Flat fire road to the Mitchell Canyon fire road.

QUICK STATS
Length: 13.2 miles
Elevation gain: 3.2k ft.
Time: 5 hours

Muir Beach to Rodeo Beach via the Coastal Trail

May 13, 2015 / Rachel / 4 Comments

With six weeks left until my upcoming North Cascades climbs, I need to intensify my endurance training. I’ll be doing two back-to-back climbs on mountains averaging around 10k ft. in altitude, and as I’ve learned from past experiences, the only way to prepare for that is to run, hike, and climb with as much elevation gain as possible on my weekend training days.

Muir Beach is one of the first trails I discovered when I moved to SF, and has stuck to be one of my favorites. I’ve brought my parents, out-of-town friends, and regular hiking buddies here. Its out-and-back style makes it an easy route to shorten or lengthen based on your mood. Here’s a distance breakdown of popular turn-around points:

Muir Beach to Coastal Fire Road intersection: 2.2 miles
Muir Beach to Tennessee Valley: 3.1 miles
Muir Beach to Hill 88: 4.5 miles
Total one-way from Muir Beach to Rodeo Beach: 5.9 miles

Quarter-mile into the hike, looking down at Muir Beach.

I chose the perfect day, with San Francisco’s famous fog hanging overhead for most of the morning. It was chilly, but easy to warm up with the waterfront hills.

The first half mile is steep. The entire trail follows the coastline and winds up and down its peaks, and in and out of its valleys. You’re essentially walking (or running) from a lower elevation to a higher elevation and back the entire time, which some may find completely exasperating, or to others, as a challenge.

Shoreline views from the Coastal Trail.

About halfway between Muir Beach and Tennessee Valley is a turnoff for Pirate’s Cove, a hidden little beach surrounded by tall, wind-swept and sea-swept rocks. At this intersection you’ll find one of two sets of rugged, wooden stairs on the trail that will slow down traffic a little. When trail running, this is one of the only spots that I’ll need to halt my speed to trudge up each step.

Just one more up-and-over and the trail widens as it merges with a fire road for the final stretch into Tennessee Valley.

Top of the fire road, looking down at Tennessee Valley – shoreline hidden by the hills.

When the fire road intersects with another wide trail, turn left for just 100 yards and you’ll see the continuation of the Coastal Trail on your right, with a mileage sign to Rodeo Beach. The walk from this intersection to the Tennessee Valley shoreline is 0.7 miles, which would’ve added 1.4 miles to my trip. I’ve done this option before and turned around at the beach, making the total hike around 7 miles.

Being in the valley means you’ve lost all of that legwork you did to get yourself up those hills, which also means you get to repeat that effort to get over to Rodeo Beach. To emphasize; it’s a lot of steep, steep hill climbing, and there’s not much benefit to the up-and-down nature of the path other than sheer enjoyment.

Leaving Tennessee Valley to go up, up, up and over to Rodeo Beach.

Here’s the most fun part of the trail. In the course of 1.15 miles, the Coastal Trail gains 800′ in elevation and peaks out at an exposed, windy plateau overlooking Tennessee Valley and even farther on. Continue up this hill to the tallest point of the day, and you’ll intersect a paved cycling road. Turning left here takes you a quarter mile to Hill 88. I’ve used this as a landmark too, returning to Muir Beach from Hill 88 makes a little more than a 9 mile track.

Turning right instead, the trail winds another mile and a half or so down to Rodeo Beach, which will probably be more crowded than Muir Beach. Make your way all the way down to the sand, and you get to look back and see all of the miles and elevation you get to do all over again on your return!

Overlooking Rodeo Beach, with views of the Golden Gate Bridge barely visible in the background.

QUICK STATS

Length: 11.8 miles
Elevation gain: 3.5k ft.
Time: 3.25 hours

Purisima Creek Redwoods: Hiking over Half Moon Bay

May 10, 2015 / Rachel / Leave a comment

My office is in a unique location; at the intersection of El Camino Real and Highway Bridge 92, which stretches from Hayward through San Mateo and over into Half Moon Bay. It’s easy for commuters to head north or south on the Peninsula, or even over to the East Bay, but the Half Moon Bay hills and endless trails along Skyline remain largely undiscovered. So, I took advantage of an early Friday afternoon to visit one of my favorite parks.

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Descending, still towards the top, along the Whittemore Gulch Trail

The main parking lot is right off of Skyline, which means the first half of the hike goes across the hills and into a valley, where it follows along the Purisima Creek. The route I chose circles the entire park counter-clockwise and is the longest circuit available in this open space. Here’s how the distance breaks down:

North Ridge Trail: 1.2 miles
Whittemore Gulch Trail: 2.2 miles
Purisima Creek Trail: 2.3 miles
Craig Britton Trail: 2.6 miles
Harkins Ridge Trail: 1.2 miles

Redwoods along Purisima Creek

The first two trails wind along the upper, exposed part of the hills for quite a while before dipping into the forest. Even then, it’s gradual, I had barely realized I’d entered the forest before I was surrounded by redwoods and had reached the valley floor; Purisima Creek.

There’s another major trailhead and parking area where Whittemore Gulch meets the Purisima Creek Trail, at the bridge to cross the creek. This trail becomes wider, flatter, and smoother, perfect for trail runners. I half-ran and half-hiked, slowing down over some of the ruttier areas that have been dug out by horses and cyclists. There are a lot of roots and rocks to look out for on these trails too, and areas on the Whittemore Gulch and Craig Britton can be tricky with slanting, steep slopes.

Sleep slopes along the Craig Britton Trail

Craig Britton continues at a relatively flat elevation through the thick, forested redwoods until it intersects with Harkins Ridge Trail. The scenery changes as this trail goes up, redwoods falling away to thinner trees that let in more sunlight. By the time I reached the Harkins Ridge Trail and trudged up its dusty steep hills, I’d almost forgotten the entire first third of my day that had been like this – I was so used to the thick forest and tall trees.

The final views before the parking lot really reminded me how much this open space has to offer; completely different landscapes, wildlife, and ecosystems scattered between the dense valley floor and the top of the Skyline hills.

Final view over Half Moon Bay before the last stretch to the trailhead parking lot

QUICK STATS

Length: 9.5 miles
Elevation gain: 1.8k
Time: 2.5 hours

Redwood Regional Park: West Ridge Trail to East Ridge Trail

May 3, 2015 / Rachel / Leave a comment

It’s difficult to have a car in San Francisco. But it’s oh-so worth it when it comes to weekend getaways, especially with all the Bay Area has to offer. I’ve been to Muir Woods, Mt. Tamalpais, and Stinson Beach more times than I can count, so a few weeks ago I decided to check out what’s hiding in the East Bay, and found the perfect day trip less than 30 minutes outside of the city.

Redwood Regional Park, part of the East Bay Regional Park District, is a huge open space that’s super accessible, tucked away in the East Bay hills just a short drive from Oakland. From San Francisco, take 580 East off of the Bay Bridge and turn left off of the 35th Ave exit. This road turns into Redwood Road, which will take you to the main entrance of the park. There’s plenty of parking for a $5 fee, or you can squeeze in between other cars on the side of the main road just outside the entrance, which is how I entered the park today.

I created my own loop based on recommendations I’d read and convenience to my car location, but you can view each trail and loop more closely on Mappery.

When I first entered the park on foot, I found a couple of ways to jump up on a trail to my left that ran along a creek bed. This area of the park is lush with green plants and glows under a canopy of trees, with a very small one-track trail lined with rocks and roots. I managed to fall flat on my face within the first five minutes of my day.

Winding up towards the West Ridge Trail

I followed this trail up the left-side ridge and hit my destination, the West Ridge Trail, and continued on higher up. The path widens here to accommodate equestrians, bikers, and more hikers, and goes for miles and miles – and steeper and steeper. The West Ridge Trail narrows and widens again, snaking through thick forests and leveling out at look points with stunning views. I passed through so many ecosystems, from the thick green forest you see above through tall redwoods and up above dusty pastures covered in wildflowers.

More uphill on the West Ridge Trail

These first few miles were the steepest of the day, and I was regularly alternating between trail running on flat surfaces to cutting my pace in half up hills. The bulk of my elevation gain was condensed into just the first third of this hike, which means ending the day at 1.6k total gain made a strenuous beginning. At the highest point of the West Ridge Trail, the path crosses a road that leads to Chabot Space & Science Center, and from then on, it’s pretty much all downhill.

Looking back up the West Ridge Trail, winding through the redwoods.

Just about halfway through my hike, the windy trail through the redwoods evened out to a gaping valley on my right, and a parking lot up emerged ahead on the left. This is where the West Ridge Trail becomes the East Ridge Trail, and where I found many more people either starting or ending their day. There are a lot of leisurely trails that fork off of the main one and many people wander down these for shorter hikes or picnic spots. It’s easy to get stuck here, enjoying the views.

View from the East Ridge Trailhead. Naturally, the photo does not capture the beauty of this spot.

The last half of the hike was easy, and mostly downhill. The East Ridge is unlike its other half in that it’s largely exposed, dusty, and out of the redwoods. But both of these things also mean that I was able to see farther because of the lower tree line, and I paid more attention to the hills on the horizon since I was looking their direction, heading down. There’s something about a view like this, when I’ve stopped long enough to feel the blood in my limbs slow and my lungs open and I feel like I’m seeing this distance for the first time. It’s like taking that first breath of air when you come up from an ocean dive.

Afternoon rest spot on the East Ridge Trail, Redwood Regional Park.

It was a beautiful, easy day that wasn’t completely inundated with crowds (unlike other Bay Area hiking options), and it reminded me of how lucky San Franciscans are to have so many options in this area.

QUICK STATS

Length: 7.5 miles
Elevation gain: 1.6k
Time: 2.25 hours

Desolation Wilderness: An attempt of Pyramid Peak

April 29, 2015 / Rachel / 1 Comment

We set out to climb an impressive mark in the Sierra Nevada, specifically the Crystal Range, just to the west of Lake Tahoe: Pyramid Peak, the tallest point in the Desolation Wilderness, and a “must-do” hike according to other peak baggers around California. I had spent last weekend in Yosemite at Glacier Point, a peak standing at 7,214 ft., and had experienced a long, hot, grueling day that left me thirsty and with sunburns.

Now, Yosemite is just 2.5 hours south of Tahoe National Forest, so I imagined similar conditions on what I believed was a comparable hike. Furthermore, the Lyons Creek trailhead that leads to Pyramid Peak sits at 6,700 ft. and the top of the mountain reaches 9,983 ft., so I was braced for a challenging day hike – nothing more – and brought three friends along. I felt pretty prepared.

We can joke about it now; but we were absolutely, comically unprepared.

Driving up Wrights Lake Road, off of Highway 50, just before sunrise

We left San Francisco at 4 a.m. and set out northeast. Only once we were winding up highway 50 towards Tahoe did we start seeing patches of snow, and when we finally caught our first glimpse of the mountains from the road, we all echoed the same thought: “Are those peaks… completely capped in snow?” We had not anticipated snow, at all.

I had to put my car into four-wheel drive heading up Wrights Lane Road, which takes you 4 miles off of highway 50 and straight to the Lyons Creek Trailhead, one of the more popular approaches up Pyramid Peak via the West Ridge route. We parked next to only one other car and set off in 1.5 to 2 ft. of snow around 6:45 a.m. I was the only one in the group wearing shoes that were not water resistant, and though my extra-tall gaiters helped guard snow from slipping inside of the tops of my boots, it did nothing for the soles, which were helplessly soggy all day long. All of our feet were soaked throughout the entire day, and at our turnaround spot two of the guys wrung out ounces and ounces of liquid from their sopping, sweaty socks. It was nasty.

We followed a set of tracks for the first two or three miles until they zig-zagged away from each other into different directions. We started following one, having to turn around after a quarter mile, and would follow the other until it doubled back and seemed to loop around to the original trail. Finally, Joey took the lead and started trail blazing into what we thought looked like the most obvious direction. Mind you, we did not have a map or a compass with us, we walked solely on instinct and with the intention to reach the clearing that we assumed must be so close.

Hiking through daybreak up the Lyons Creek Trail

That clearing was nowhere near as close as we thought it would be. Also, trail blazing is hard work. We were lifting our legs and dragging ourselves through almost 2 feet of untouched snow, reaching over trees and brush and rocks as we stumbled upon them. We did get validation that we were walking in the right direction each time we came across a cut log – those became one of our only signs that we were on the right path. Still, it was a tiresome and long process getting out of the main forest area.

When we finally reached the clearing that we’d been waiting hours to stumble upon, I realized that we had walked 7 miles that morning even though Sylvia Lake was supposed to have only been 4.7 miles from the trailhead. Part of that mileage would have come from turning around a handful of times, but I was worried that we might have been moving too far to the west, and missed a trail on the east, putting us even farther from the lake. A little after 10:30am, when we’d been walking for nearly 4 hours, we decided to camp out on a log to enjoy lunch, relax, and turn around. We left our sunny field spot at 11:30 and got back to the car by 2:00.

Our resting spot, with Pyramid Peak visible in the background.

On the return, the streams we’d been hopping over (or in some cases, walked straight through) were rapidly expanding and quickening from the melting snow. The final two miles of our trip looked like an entirely different trail with the small tributaries that formed in the hours that had warmed us that morning.

Overall, it was a solid attempt. Everyone had high spirits and was eager to trek on through the less-than-ideal conditions. We all aided each other through the difficult snowy steps over logs and across streambeds, and most importantly, we’re all psyched to come back in a couple months once the snow has melted to give Pyramid Peak another shot.

QUICK STATS