The Kaweah Traverse

Recently Kevin Burkhart and I climbed the Kaweah Traverse in Sequoia National Park. Ours was the third or maybe fourth ascent of the traverse and the first time (that I know of) that it's been guided. 

Yours truly on the approach with most of the traverse in the background. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

In a big mountain range full of fantastic alpine ridges, the Kaweahs are a bit of an anomaly. This group of 13,000 foot peaks are not, for the most part, made up of the granite for which the range is famous. Instead they are of a rock that is significantly lower in quality. The original Kaweah Traverse was accomplished by Andy Selters, Claude Fiddler, and Danny Whitmore in July of 1997. This trio traversed about two miles of ridge line, from Black Kaweah to Second Kaweah, taking on 6 other named 13'ers and a bunch of unnamed bumps and towers in between. Climbing California's High Sierra rates the traverse IV 5.9. There is minimal information available about the route. 

I think Kevin first mentioned the Kaweahs to me when he, his wife Heather, and I did the Palisade Traverse (Thunderbolt to Sill) several years ago. As someone who is fond of Sierra ridges it was on my radar, and the fact that he brought it up piqued my interest. Here was somebody as interested in this obscure route as I was!

A year passed and Kevin returned to the Eastern Sierra last summer to climb the Sun Ribbon Arete on Temple Crag. Again the Kaweahs were spoken of. Then we had one of snowiest winters ever. I knew that we would need to bivy on the ridge to succeed, and that meant we would need snow to melt for water. As soon as it became clear to me that there would be no lack of snow, I reached out to Kevin and the planning began. 

Kevin somewhere on the East Ridge of Black Kaweah.

I was up front with Kevin right from the start that not only had I not done the traverse, I had never even been in that part of the range before. Some climbers want their guide to be intimately familiar with the route and peak(s), but Kevin was fine with the fact that it would be an onsight for me. On a route of this nature that could mean backtracking or doing more or harder climbing. We had, I think, built some trust on our previous two trips, and I think he was looking forward to something with a few more unknowns than usual. Without the unknown, after all, there is no adventure. 

A climb of this nature also required that I put some serious trust in Kevin. Though I brought guide skills, climbing experience (and alpine ridge experience in particular) to the table, this climb would need to be a real partnership to manage the risks posed by loose rock and unknown terrain.  Kevin is an experienced trad climber, and has done a ton of 4th and low-5th class around the country. This somewhat rare pairing of skills was combined with some serious interest in this route. Kevin's research meant that not only did he get local beta for an approach that cut our hiking distance almost in half, but he also went in with eyes wide open about the loose rock, something that I think is necessary for success on the Kaweah Traverse. Though there were a number of surprises along the way, low quality rock was never one of them. 

Looking north from Red Kaweah with Black Kaweah, Pyramidal Pinnacle, and Koontz Pinnacle in view.

There is minimal information available about the route. In the interest of adding to that I include slightly more beta than I might normally, but please understand that in endeavors like this a sense of urgency is necessary and quality note taking often fell by the wayside.

We left Mineral King a little after 9am. Kevin's route to the Big Arroyo, our basecamp, wound over Glacier and Hands and Knees Passes and through the Little Five Lakes Basin following trails, abandoned trails, and our noses. Towards the end of the day we shed our shoes for several creek crossings, some of them more than knee deep, fast, and cold. Near the old Big Arroyo ranger cabin we ran into a backcountry ranger who warned us that the Kaweahs had a lot of loose rock and that it could be snowy up there. We spent the night comfortably under my tarp.

The next morning there was no alarm. I thought we'd be working hard each day on the route and wanted to leave our basecamp well rested from the hike in. After a leisurely breakfast we started hiking northeast uphill through open woods and granite slabs. eventually we reached the treeline. That ranger was right, there was a lot of snow, and we were happy for it. The last mile or so of our approach to Black Kaweah would have been endless talus was it not covered in supportive snow. 

We took the Southwest Face route to the summit. It was fairly straightforward and soon we were on top snacking and snapping photos of the peaks laid out ahead of us. From the summit we descended directly east on technical terrain and got onto the east ridge via a convenient ledge. Looking back later that day, we saw that we could have accessed that ledge much more easily by backtracking a bit. The east ridge was exposed, loose, 4th to low 5th class...and surprisingly fun. Our only snafu came on the one rappel we made but that was quickly fixed and soon we were hiking up the northwest slopes of Pyramidal Pinnacle looking for a place to spend the night. There were a number of snow patches and many semi-flat sites, but for some reason I wanted to keep hiking. Before too long I saw it, a cave! With a shout I ran over to it, expecting the floor to be filled with sharp rocks or guano or both. Instead it was almost-completely-level sand and small gravel, a comfortable size for two grown men. A few moments of work from Kevin, the high-end custom carpenter, and it was perfect. Just a few steps away was a snowfield melting into liquid in the late afternoon sun. Excellent views back up the east ridge of Black Kaweah were the icing on the cake that is my new favorite bivy spot.

Soaking up the view from my new favorite bivy spot.

The following day we left the magnificent cave a little after 7am. We scrambled up to the summit of Pyramidal Pinnacle with ease, and soon found ourselves downclimbing exposed 4th and low 5th class. We could have gone back down the way we came and wrapped around to the other side of the Pinnacle on easier terrain, but we wanted to keep our traverse as true as we could, riding the skyline. A short rappel completed our descent to the notch with Koontz Pinnacle.

Some unnecessary but fun 5th class climbing brought us to the top of Koontz Pinnacle, which has a classic Sierra summit block. In his guidebook Peaks, Passes, and Trails RJ Secor mentions that Koontz Pinnacle is not shown on the USGS Triple Divide Peak 7.5 minute map. It seemed to us, after sitting up there with the gps on my phone, that in fact its Pyramidal Pinnacle that's not shown on the quad. 

Me on top of Koontz Pinnacle. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

Traveling along the ridge from Koontz was fun but became involved, eventually necessitating a 40m rappel. This was followed by a hike up Red Kaweah, one of the easier peaks on the traverse. There was some kind of butterfly migration happening and hundreds of orange and black butterflies led us along the ridge and up to the summit. Getting off the other side was more complicated, we made one rappel that I can recall.

Climbing up the north side of Michael's Pinnacle was forgettable, but the summit register was not. Placed by Jim Koontz himself in 1953, it had a transcription from Charles Michael's original register and had been signed by a who's who of Kaweah climbers, including the only other parties we knew of who did the traverse. It's a piece of Sierra history. I'm not normally particularly excited to sign summit registers, but I was honored to sign this one. That is, until we discovered the pen didn't work. Kicking ourselves for not bringing a pen, we continued south in the dwindling daylight, eventually dropping off the crest a bit to a bivy overlooking Kaweah Basin. 

The Michael's Pinnacle summit register. It could use a new pen and container.

Looking east towards Williamson and Whitney from our second bivy. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

In the morning the towers seemed to go on and on and included two 20m rappels, but eventually we found ourselves in front of Squaretop. We traversed onto the west side over at least one rib to get to the Northwest Face route which brought us quickly to the summit. 

A time consuming gully took us down to the col before Bilko Pinnacle. Here fun 4th class on a rib over to the west side of the col brought us to the summit and our first good views of Grey (aka Second, aka False) Kaweah. 

Kevin sailing the seas of choss somewhere on the ridge.

Tales of a spat between the first ascensionists and 5.9 climbing had us wondering if one of the towers before us would contain the crux. Instead we found (on I believe the second tower) enjoyable 5.7 climbing on some of the best rock on the ridge. Before long we were fist bumping on top. I know I felt like we were getting away with something. 

We still had a lot of daylight left, and both of us felt like it would make a lot of sense to include Mount Kaweah, the tallest of the Kaweah peaks. It was only a matter of some class 2 hiking, so we signed that summit register too. Our big winter had left snow still parked on the west face of the peak, and a 1500 foot standing glissade sped our descent and put smiles on our faces.

While Kevin and I both enjoyed this traverse neither of us feel a need to do it again. Climbers who are dying to send this one would be well-advised to do some of the other big (and higher quality) traverses first. Though this one isn't as long as the full Palisade or Evolution Traverses, the decision making and risk management is probably harder. Couple this with the low level but continuous loose rock and the Kaweah Traverse is likely as difficult as those longer ones. As Kevin put it, “this one is for the Sierra ridge 'choss-isseur'”.

Somewhere in the Kaweahs. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

Ice Climbing and Experience

Ice climbing is one of my favorite types of climbing to guide. This winter I was lucky to facilitate movement on frozen water for a number of my regular clients (or "repeat offenders" as I sometimes refer to them). Two of them that I climbed with almost back - to - back are in very different places in their ice climbing careers. These two climbers have vastly different levels of experience, but each seems to (knowingly or not) take maximum advantage of that experience.

Kevin is in the second ice climbing phase of his life. The first ended before I ever picked up an ice tool. Kevin and I had spent a bunch of days rock climbing and a few mellow days on the ice when he got in touch about an ice climbing road trip. With a little effort plans came together and mid-February found us in Hyalite Canyon, just outside of Bozeman, MT. Though Kevin might still be getting the feel for all of the new gear, especially the boots, his ice climbing technique, stamina, and stoke haven't gotten rusty at all and he seemed to draw on a deep well of experience to climb hard four days in a row. He was up as early as me every day, and every bit as excited during the drive to the trailhead.

Kevin points back up at The Matrix (WI4- M4-5) after climbing it in what we thought were fairly fat conditions.

Though the trip was a success by many metrics, the high point for me came on the second pitch of a three pitch route called Cleopatra's Needle, when the rope running from my belay device down to Kevin stopped moving. We had been climbing increasingly difficult ice every day and Kevin followed each pitch perfunctorily, always pulling the final bulge smoothly and with a smile. As a guide I try to bring clients to a place (mentally or physically or both) where they are challenged. This is where the most learning and growth happens, and where the most fun is had. I was a little concerned that though we were ratcheting up the difficulty Kevin wasn't being challenged enough. Now he was at the bottom of the sustained pillar that defines the route, and the rope stopped moving for an entire half a minute. Finally, something made this steep ice climbing machine stop and think!  After that brief pause he started up again, and before too long he came into view with his usual grin, psyched on the pitch he just sent.


Jesse had climbed ice two days in his life, one at the Roadside Ice in June Lake and one with me on North Peak, when we met in Lee Vining a few days after the Hyalite trip. Though he doesn't have Kevin's depth of experience in the frozen vertical, he can match him in enthusiasm, and I think his "beginner's mind" can be an asset. Jesse and I were originally scheduled for a Monday and Tuesday, but severe weather forced us back a few days to a Friday and Saturday. I encourage clients to book ice climbing days mid-week as much as possible. Despite the fact that this can be difficult for climbers with 9-5 jobs and families, they often get much more out of their climbing days than when we go to Lee Vining Canyon on a weekend, because of the crowds.

Jesse and I got an early start on Friday, and managed to get in a bunch of laps on the left side of Chouinard Falls before things got a little too busy there. Recognizing that Spiral Staircase over on The Main Wall was in, and is somewhat rare, it seemed like a great way to finish off our first day and to show Jesse his first multi-pitch water ice route. He did well, hooking through the finish to the first pitch on what was probably the most sustained steep ice he had climbed to that point.

Jesse traversing over to the anchor on the classic finish to the first pitch of Spiral Staircase (WI4-).

Our second day started with a quick lap up what was left of C3PO in the Narrows before walking up-canyon and finding that both The Chimney Route/Photoshop and The Fischer King both had parties on them. Heel-Toe, however, looked formed up and nobody was on it. It even looked like the left finish was covered in ice! The first pitch can be thought-provoking for the leader, but is no more than interesting for the follower, and I was confident that we could bail from anywhere on the route if we needed to, so up we went. Jesse cruised the first pitch and we broke the second pitch into two, stopping at the ledge where the two finishes bifurcate. Looking ahead from here I now saw that the ice covering the left finish from below was several inches thick but detached from the cliff behind by about an inch. Oh well. A little dry tooling number got us past this and up to the top. Though this was certainly a step up for Jesse, he shined. I think this is due, in part, to his "beginner's mind".

As climbers we often assume that having more experience always trumps having less. Climbing with these two guys in quick succession was a great lesson in the fact that there are advantages to being at either end of the experience spectrum.

On Being Well Rounded

Recently, I got home from my second expedition up the West Buttress of Denali. Between the two trips I've guided a total of 15 climbers on the mountain. It's a very diverse group, all of these folks had worked hard before and during the expedition and had a strong desire to go to the summit, but that's where their similarities end. Climbers on these expeditions came from different countries, different generations, and even slightly different socioeconomic backgrounds. Perhaps the most striking of their differences was in climbing background.

A sort of a sunset at 14,000 feet. The full moon hangs over Mount Hunter, with Mount Foraker to the right. The classic Sultana Ridge is the sun-shade line on Foraker.

All had some mountaineering experience. Some had some more extensive alpine climbing mileage. A few folks on each trip had done a lot of technical climbing. These difference became glaringly obvious on two of the sections many regard as the cruxes of the expedition: the Fixed Lines above the 14,000 foot camp, and the Autobahn (a section of fixed pickets above the 17,000 foot camp). Both of these sections of the route are steep, and both require the climber to have a basic grasp of moving together as a roped team, and an understanding of how to operate a carabiner. I know this second skill sounds a bit sarcastic, but bear with me because it's not.

Eating salmon with the pick of my ice axe. I forgot my spoon this day.

Denali suitors who had extensive technical climbing experience on rock and ice were comfortable with the steeper terrain of the Fixed Lines and Autobahn. The very act of standing on these slopes did not tire or unnerve them. Their previous climbing experience gave them experiential, not just intellectual, knowledge of how rope systems can add security to steep terrain. Spending time handling ropes and carabiners in a variety of steep rock and ice situations meant that they had a fundamental understanding of how to clip and unclip rope from carabiner. They had no problem doing either with big bulky gloves (or mittens) when they were cold and tired.

Those with less technical experience were nervous on the steeper slopes. They didn't feel comfortable standing upright and sometimes assumed positions that seemed more secure but were more tiring. They didn't feel comfortable resting with their weight on the fixed rope. Clipping and unclipping was difficult and stressful. If the weather was bad and they were tired, all of these things were magnified. It was as if those with less technical experience were given a slightly harder mountain to climb.

Spud and Mike cruising to camp at 17,200. This is one of my favorite sections of the route.

In my time guiding in The Cascades* I worked with many climbers who were not interested in rock climbing at all. Some of them preferred to gut it out on obscure moderate alpine ice climbs that were in less-than-optimal condition rather than choose a classic route that might involve some 4th or low-5th class rock to get to or from the ice. Some thought they were too old to rock climb. Others thought that because they didn't look like Sharma shirtless they had no hope on the rock. Still others scoffed at rock climbing as something that couldn't benefit their mountaineering career in any way.

It might be the great variety of climbing available here in the Eastern Sierra colors my viewpoint on this issue, but it seems to me that having a breadth of experiences is beneficial no matter what part of the climbing buffet is your favorite. Some of the connections are obvious: bouldering can help you deal with powerful or dynamic moves on a sport climb. Sport climbing lets you work on movement skills you can bring to trad routes. Trad skills let you climb big walls and rocky peaks. But the connections could be more subtle. Projecting a boulder problem or sport route can help the mountaineer embrace the process of climbing a big peak and deal with the inevitable occasional setback or failure. The benfits could work the other way too. The experienced alpine climber knows that the summit is a very small part of a much bigger thing, and can bring that knowledge to working a challenging pitch at the crag.

On an expedition the little things can be pretty sweet, like having your name written in Sriracha on a quesadilla.

No matter what your preferred way of engaging with climbing, being well rounded (or even attempting to be) is beneficial. A bigger skill set puts more items on the menu of things you can do. As Josh Wharton said in a climbing video once, "What could be better than climbing? More climbing."

I was going to to mention a bunch of accomplished climbers who were known to be well rounded when a colleague pointed out that I don't need to drop famous names when I guide well rounded climbers all the time. He's right. I don't need to name drop Alex Lowe and Ueli Steck when I personally know Brett and Lee and Clay. I've been lucky to share a rope with climbers who like to eat from every part of the climbing buffet. Next time you find yourself joking that, "sport climbing is neither" remember that it's all just climbing and consider trying something new. You might like it.

"Do not use parking brake on glacier". From the dashboard of the de Havilland Beaver we flew off the glacier in.

*I meet folks who hold these views in The Sierra too, but in much smaller numbers.

Mountain Craft - Video

Arc'teryx just released a great little video about mountain guiding. Visually it's just as nice as any well made climbing video, but what makes it a bit unusual is the narration. There's a bit of behind-the-scenes type talk about decision making and risk.

Peak 12,563

We've had an interesting summer of weather in the Sierra. Long periods with thunderstorms both in the forecast and in reality, coupled with smoky air from wildfires in the western part of the range has made prolonged trips in the mountains less than desirable. 

Classic thunderhead approaching Cecile Lake.

A little bit of luck and itinerary adjustment has allowed me to still help climbers accomplish their goals on guided trips. Glen and I climbed the Southeast Face of Clyde Minaret and The Palisade Traverse during periods of unsettled weather. However, I've put off some of my big personal objectives in the mountains in favor of shorter trips. A half day's scramble up Cloudripper and some cragging have been excellent consolation prizes. Early in August I had a free day with a 30% chance of thunderstorms, but still wanted to get into the mountains. So it seemed like a good time to tick some shorter alpine climbs.

Getting ready to leave the North Palisade bivy on a clear but windy and cold morning.

Peak 12,563 and it's Northeast Ridge (5.6) came to my attention in a Mountain Project thread from several years ago about less traveled, easier Sierra alpine rock climbs. Some of the routes sounded cool, so I added them to the never-shrinking to do list for this range. Last September Jess and I got out and climbed The Diamond on Two Eagle Peak (12,966), a route from that Mountain Project thread. The route had all the hallmarks of any off-the-beaten path alpine climb: a little loose rock rock, some lichen, and some interesting route-finding. It was a really fun day of climbing, with nobody else in sight and great views of the Palisades.

A little research in RJ Secor's Peaks, Passes, and Trails told me that Peak 12,563 is sometimes called "Bear Claw Spire", that it had a spectacular summit block, and that the route was first climbed by Galen Rowell. These facts on top of the fun we had on Two Eagle were enough to pique my interest.

I got a far from alpine start at 9am from the Pine Creek trailhead. Hiking up that trail is usually a hot dusty affair, and this time was no different. By the time I got to Upper Pine Lake the altitude and building clouds made the temperatures much more pleasant for hiking. From Honeymoon Lake to Golden Lake was fairly easy cross-country travel and soon I was getting a good look at the ridge. I have few photos from the day as the forecast and building clouds had me feeling some time pressure.

The bottom of the ridge features some fairly steep cliffs. These looked a little harder than 5.6 and certainly harder than I wanted to climb solo and in approach shoes, so I started left of the toe of the ridge at an area with several inviting cracks. Fun 5th class climbing up to about 5.6 led to the ridge top after a while. From here I crossed over to the right side and followed some 3/4th class ledge systems to get back on the ridge top. Staying generally on top of the ridge with the occasional 5th class section led up to the summit block. This was spectacular, as promised, and required a few 5.6 or so moves on very high quality granite.

The summit featured great views back into Pine Creek Canyon and down to the Owens Valley, south toward Four Gables, and a front row seat on Feather, Royce, an Merriam Peaks. Walking off down the west side of the peak was pretty casual. Though the rock had some of the potato-chip flakiness of rarely traveled alpine granite, the underlying rock quality was really good. If you're comfortable at the grade and have some alpine rock experience, this route could be a great adventure.

If you go the summit register could use a new container, notebook, and pencil.

Indefinitely Wild

Recently I was interviewed about being a guide and the guiding life. I was asked some good questions and the whole thing is accompanied by fantastic photos. Read it here.

Ten Days of Guiding in The Sierra

I've been fortunate to have been able to guide all over the High Sierra in the last ten days. I'm also especially fortunate that some of the folks I get to climb with are handy with cameras.

First was a trip up the East Buttress of Mount Whitney with two really fun guys, Dee and Stefano. The forecast was not promising, and it rained on-and-off for the whole hike in to our high camp at Iceberg Lake. Because we got up early, and because those guys are good rock climbers, we were able to sneak our climb in during a perfect spell of weather between storms. It was a first long multi-pitch climb for Stefano and a first alpine rock climb for both. Bravo gentlemen. Dee put together a short video on the climb. Check out his blog here.

After bidding those two farewell I had a rest day before a backpacking trip through some of the finest Sierra high country. Three Japanese gentlemen and I walked from Mammoth to Tuolumne. Thankfully they spoke English pretty well and were happy to indulge my feeble attempts to pick up Japanese. "Good morning" in Japanese is "ohio". We enjoyed breathtaking campsites at Thousand Island Lake and in Lyell Canyon, and got some fishing in.

On the way to Donahue Pass. Banner Peak is the pointy one above this gentleman's head.

The very next day found me back in the same region of the Sierra. After hearing a number of reports about good conditions in the North Couloir of North Peak, Bob and I made plans to climb this route. The couloir opened with a fun pitch on neve over the berschrund. Then we frontpointed, swung tools and belayed off ice screws like real ice climbers for five pitches. But this being California, we were in t-shirts.

Packing up and getting stoked at the trailhead.

In the couloir, sweet photo by Bob Thompson.

The Palisade Traverse

I wrote this trip report for the AAI Climbing blog, where it was originally published.


In 1931 Robert Underhill, one of the best climbers in the country, was invited to California to teach Sierra Club members proper rope and belay techniques. Afterwards he and the top students toured the range, making many first ascents. This group of heavy hitters included Norman Clyde, Jules Eichorn, and Glen Dawson.

They spent 6 days in The Palisades that August, the most rugged and inspiring region in the Sierra Nevada. Amongst their climbs was the first ascent of Thunderbolt Peak, the last California 14er to be climbed. The climbers were surprised on the summit by a thunderstorm and, with lightning striking all around, barely escaped.

This story came to mind frequently during the last days of June and early July. The Sierra was experiencing record high temperatures and violent thunderstorms were happening every afternoon. Jim and Bob signed up for a Palisade Traverse trip starting July 4 and fortunately this spell of thunderstorms was showing signs of abating that day.

The three of us set out from The Big Pine Creek Trailhead. Conversation carried us up the trail to Sam Mack Meadow, and a few miles beyond to Fischer Camp. The afternoon was cloudy and we heard thunder from time-to-time, but our objective stayed out of the clouds. The High Sierra is filled with fantastic ridges and the classic Palisade Traverse, from Thunderbolt Peak to Mount Sill, is arguably the best. Climber and guidebook author Peter Croft says, "This magical mystery tour of five 14,000 foot peaks has got to be one of the very best and most popular traverses in the United States of America".

Creek Crossing in Sam Mack Meadow.

On the second day of our trip we woke early, left our camp behind, and headed out across the Thunderbolt Glacier to the Northeast Couloir of Thunderbolt Peak. An unexpected but really fun pitch of alpine ice got us across the bergschrund and snow slogging took us to the ridge just north of the summit. The day was far from stormy, and we were making good time. The summit of Thunderbolt Peak is tiny, and the moves to gain it probably the crux of the route. After taking turns on top we descended to the south and took a lunch break in a sheltered spot, watching another party climb the peak.

Next we climbed Starlight Peak and its summit block, The Milk Bottle, named for its appearance. Beyond Starlight we passed an unnamed gendarme, moved through some exposed sections, and climbed to the top of North Palisade, one of the more commodious summits on the route. We were stoked, three 14ers in one day! A short rappel off the summit block left us at one of the best bivouacs in the range. After a hot meal and some chit-chat about the fun we'd had that day we were off to a well-earned night's sleep.

Sleeping over 14,000 feet on the second night of a trip is never notably restful, but we all managed to get some sleep. After being warmed by the sun and stimulated by hot coffee (thanks guys) we resumed our southward course on the ridge with two rappels into the U-Notch Couloir. Crossing this, we climbed up the other side and quickly found ourselves on top of Polemonium Peak. The summit register has been missing for several years, but we made do with photos.

Documenting the summit on Polemonium Peak.

Bob, Jim, and I descending Polemonium. Starlight Peak is in the foreground, we're the three specks on the bump in the distance. Jed Porter photo.

Some fun and exposed climbing put us onto the slope between Polemonium and Mount Sill. This is the easiest stretch of the whole traverse - merely rough hiking - and we were happy to unrope for a while. Arriving at Sill we ditched our packs and scrambled to the summit. Five 14'ers in two days!

We descended the quickly melting L-Shaped snowfield to Glacier Notch and from there to the Palisade Glacier. We crossed this, with a quick stop to drink fresh glacial melt, and were soon at our camp, a little tired but happy and successful.

Click here for more information on the Underhill Camp trip to the Palisades (including photos).