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White Mountain June 1990      I first learned about White Mountain in the summer of 1989 while I was working at Vandenberg Air Force Base along the California central coast. My boss Walt Nagel pointed out a short article in Sunset magazine that claimed that White Mountain was the easiest climbed fourteen thousand foot peak in California. Having had previously climbed three fourteen thousand foot peaks I was eager to add another to my list, especially if it was supposed to be easy. I found out there really isn't anything such as an easy fourteen thousand foot peak, it's all pretty much relative. The reason the peak is considered easy is that a dirt road can be driven to a point at about eleven and a half thousand feet in elevation which is only about seven and a half miles from the summit. Unfortunately starting at that high an elevation doesn't allow as much time for acclimation as gradually working your way up from around seven thousand feet or so.       As they say the third time is a charm. Actually I made the 14,246 foot summit of White Mountain on my first attempt, but it was the third time I had attempted to make an attempt. In September of 1989 I was going to try and climb the mountain and I stopped off at Ridgecrest to try and talk a friend into joining me. Unfortunately while arriving in Ridgecrest I rolled my van and never got within one hundred and twenty miles of the mountain. The second time, in May of 1990, I had a badly sprained ankle from a bicycle accident and was on crutches at a camp ten miles from the peak while I watched two friends unsuccessfully try a day hike for the summit. Early in June of the same year, before leaving for the Matterhorn in Switzerland, I actually got to make an attempt. I gained the summit with only some minor difficulties, mostly of which stemmed from the fact that my ankle hadn't completely healed yet and my lower back and sciatic nerve to my right leg weren't in the best of shape.      White Mountain is located in the White Mountains on the eastern edge of California near the Nevada border. It is across the Owens Valley from the sharp eastern flank of the Sierras near the town of Bishop. The actual road taken to get there cuts off of highway 395 at Big Pine which is a few miles south of Bishop. I have traveled up and down the Owens Valley many times without ever really noticing these high mountains until I was actually looking for them. It is hard to tell the difference between the seven or eight thousand foot ridge which runs along much of the east side of the valley and the higher White Mountains, unless there is snow at the higher elevations. In the late fall to early spring the snow capped White Mountains stand out dramatically and can be seen from great distances.      On this trip I paid my five dollars and used highway 120 through Tioga Pass and Yosemite National Park. After cresting near ten thousand feet and exiting the east side of the park I started down Mono Canyon. From the upper reaches of the canyon I could see the snow capped White Mountains sixty miles off in the distance. They didn't appear to have as much snow on them as had been present on the last trip less then a month before. I had probably noticed the range from the canyon before, but this was the first time they had a name in my mind. Dropping down towards Mono Lake I noticed one of the islands was almost connected to the shoreline due to the low lake level. I don't know if the court ruling governing Los Angeles' siphoning of the run off to the Mono basin calls for the water level to remain high enough to protect the gull rookeries on all of the islands or just the largest island.       I decided to stop in Bishop for a last chance at a decent meal. At one of the local bars called McMurrays it was recommended that Whiskey River was one of the better dinner houses in the town of about three thousand. After a fair quality, high priced, over atmosphered steak dinner I stopped back at McMurrays for one for the road. The bar had some interesting photographs of the Owens Valley area between Bishop and Lone Pine from around the turn of the century on up to about the middle of the 20th century. Some of the locals told me there had been some decent storms come through the area since I had been through a month before and they weren't sure of the road conditions in the higher elevations. It didn't really matter to me because I was still going to drive as far as I could and then hike from there. The snow pack looked lighter to me and I assumed I could at least reach the Patriarch cutoff we had made the last time, if not the locked gate three and a half miles beyond that point.       The secondary highway out of Big Pine rises steeply into the mountains and at one point narrows to almost one lane. The road that goes through the ancient Bristlecone Pine forest, which supposedly contains the oldest trees on earth, and continues on to the White Mountain Research Center cuts of the highway to the north. It is paved for about fifteen miles then turns to dirt and rock for the next nineteen miles to the locked gate. They have cut channels diagonally across the dirt portion of the road to allow for run off. Sometimes my little puddle jumper barely cleared the ruts. Although I was only able to do twenty or twenty five miles per hour I was frequently gritting my teeth as a rock was kicked up by my front wheel drive and careened loudly off the bottom of the car. The road is extremely steep right before the Patriarch cut off and the first time up there my car had overheated. In first gear and with the accelerator floored the car had barely moved up the grade. My little electric fan on the radiator wasn't working properly and it would not come on if the engine was hot. It only came on if the air conditioner was turned on. I had overheated up the switchbacked grade leading to Groveland, on highway 120, before Yosemite. Some clown was leading a parade at ten miles an hour where it is easy enough to do twenty. Without the fan my car can't strain at that slow a speed without overheating. At the top of the Groveland grade I had cut the A/C belt so I could turn on the air conditioner and run the fan without running the compressor. On the White Mountain road I kept the fan on and didn't overheat this time.       At about nine P.M. I arrived under a full moon at the locked gate which is about two miles before the Barcroft Research Facilities. I finished all the beer my ice chest except for a quart I had bought in Bishop and tried to get as much sleep as possible in the cramped car under the bright moon light. After a fitful nights sleep I arose and prepared to start my attempt at hiking to where I could set up a base camp father up the mountain. I don't know if Marmots run in herds, droves, packs, schools, or what ever but here were a bunch of them in the fields around the gate. There must have been several dozen of the woodchuck like rodents scurrying around, pretty much ignoring me. I was surprised none seemed interested in getting closer to the car and scavenging for possible food scraps. After getting my pack together and fighting with my usual hangover I hit the trail a luxurious late nine in the morning. The only thing I was only planning on doing was setting up a base camp that Wednesday so I was in no real hurry to overexert myself much.       Back at the Patriarch cut off I had spied the bulldozer that had been at the research center the month before. I had been used to break through the remaining snow drifts to make the road passable up to the gate and beyond to the center itself. The two miles to the center were on a easily followed dirt road and the grade wasn't bad at all, but it didn't take me long to find out that my ankle hadn't completely healed yet. The two miles were pretty much through open rocky fields with very few good sized sitting rocks. Even with the lack of convenient perches I still managed to stop and rest a lot. The short leg to the research facility ended up taking me a little over two hours to cover.  The previous had been written in 1990 the following 2002, so sue me if my sodden brain fails to recall much detail When I reached the lower facility there was a man and woman standing outside whom must have been watching my approach. They were there to open the facility and prepare it for the scientist whom would be along at a latter date. I was free to proceed without interfering with anything. (I had planned on going with or without permission). The offered and I accepted a cup of tea and we talked for a while, about what I don't recall.       Above the facility the road climbed then leveled out on a long open ridge. I passed a rusty looking observatory which was probably still in use and finally pitched my tent in the middle of no where. I doubt if it had been six or seven hours since I had left the locked gate area.      The next day I proceeded to the summit along the road with a day pack. I enjoyed the view down towards Bishop while hiking but became really impressed when I reached the summit. The highpoint on the mountain is actually on top of a Barcroft structure. There was conveniently a ladder which made it easy to gain the roof. The 360 degree view was breath taking. I swear to the west hundreds of miles of the impressive eastern escarpment of the Sierra lay displayed in front of me. I could see over 100 miles south to the area below Langley and Whitney and also 100 miles north past Lyndel and Yosemite. I felt I could almost see to Lake Tahoe. The eastern view, although not as impressive because of the lack of snow cap was never the less inspiring. White Mountain stands supreme in that area for its isolated status. The 14,000 footers in the eastern Sierra offer an unobstructed view east but have some challenges to their western view, White has none.

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