From Mt. Langley To Mt. Whitney Via A Direct Off-Trail Route (Miter Basin, Crabtree Pass And Discovery Pinnacle)

As I stood on top of Mt. Langley in the Sierras last summer, I looked across the extremely rugged terrain over to Mt. Whitney—the tallest mountain in the continental US and one I had not climbed yet—wondering if there was a relatively direct route to its summit, five miles away as the Golden Eagle flies. One could of course hike it via a circuitous 30 mile route of established trails, something I was seriously contemplating for this summer’s backpacking trip. But then I stumbled into a video of a much more direct route, largely off-trail and requiring some route-finding and mountaineering skills.

Was my 73 year-old body up to doing something like that for the first time ever, carrying a heavy pack, and solo at that?

A couple of disclaimers: Obviously, this is not automotive content, but then I don’t use social media, so this is my alternative outlet to document this as well as indulge in a bit of braggadocio.  The route I took is hardly some great feat of mountaineering; it’s one of many relatively popular off-trail routes crossing the many high basins and to so many less-common peaks in the Sierras. But it was a very significant new challenge for me, having just started backpacking last year and never gone off-trail for several days in a very remote and rugged location. And of course I have to point out that one needs to be properly prepared before undertaking something like this; I did not want to be another statistic.  Rescues and deaths are all-too common up here (an average of two deaths on Whitney alone every year).

There was an additional incentive to climbing Whitney this summer: it was 50 years since I first saw its towering spires after a drive with my then-GF and her mom over the Panamint Range from Death Valley. I was new to California and this was my first time seeing that amazing wall of the eastern Sierra rising 10,000′ above the Owens Valley floor. I was floored. And determined to come back and climb Whitney; it’s hard for me to say just why it took 50 years, but… better late than never.

Mt. Whitney is of course extremely popular due to its status as the tallest mountain in the US (except for Alaska). Permits to climb it via the main (front) trail from Whitney Portal is limited to 100 per day for day use and 60 per day for overnight camping. And these permits via a lottery are difficult to obtain; the odds of success are roughly 25%. Thus my initial plan to climb Whitney from the rear, via the Pacific Crest and John Muir trails and starting at the Cottonwood Pass trailhead.  That would be some 45 miles roundtrip. In the back of my mind I kept imaging something more direct but didn’t really spend any time researching it.

Then sometime this past winter YouTube offered me this video, as if reading my mind. John JDS is an extremely fit and competent high-speed mountaineer, and this video of him making the trip from Cottonwood to Whitney and back in less than 48 hours was a revelation (he runs when possible and his pack probably weighs less than 10 pounds). And it’s via the Miter Basin, perhaps the most beautiful and dramatic of all of the high Sierra basins, which I did explore some on last year’s trip. This video includes a stupendous sunset just below Whitney’s summit, and even if you don’t watch much else of it, I highly recommend that section (roughly from 55 to 1:05). Most importantly for me, it showed how he crossed Crabtree pass and then ascended the back side of the Discovery Pinnacle (roughly from 35 to 50). But I had some doubts…

I really got the willies as he crossed the very narrow ridge of loose rocks from Discovery Pinnacle (49 to 51:30). There’s thousands of feet of almost vertical exposure on both sides; somehow exposure is easier to deal with when it’s only on one side and the other is solid. I decided then that I wasn’t quite up to that.

Then in early July, John posted a set of three new videos of much of the same route, this time with a friend who is closer to the abilities of an average strong hiker, taking three days and exiting via the main Whitney front trail. Now this was a much more relatable video, as the pace is on a more human level and John offers much more detailed commentary. This is the first day, from Cottonwood to the Miter Basin.

The second day is from the Miter Basin to Discovery Pinnacle, via the same route as before (Crabtree Pass). They then bivouac on one of two “camping” spots near where the JMT (John Muir Trail) joins the Whitney main trail not far from the summit. That looked a bit iffy for me too, mainly the fear of getting there late and tired and the spots are taken. What then??

They get up at 2:30 AM on Day 3 and head up to the summit to catch the sunrise there, although they really didn’t need to start that early as they only had about 1.8 miles to go. Sunrise on the summit of Whitney is a big thing, and a fair number of the day hikers coming up the main front trail leave Whitney Portal at 1:30 AM or so in order to catch that.

I watched all four of these videos several times, imagining myself behind the camera. And although I vacillated some, they eventually gave me the confidence to make the same trip as John and his friend made in the second set, thanks to the more human pace and detailed commentary. That’s not to say I didn’t have some anxiety.

The weather looked good for the week of August 16 so I snagged a wilderness permit for the 17th entering at Cottonwood Lakes trailhead. I was still unsure of my exact itinerary; I just didn’t have a fix on how it was going to go, in terms of my speed and ability on the loose, rocky and scrambling sections. I imagined going only to Long Lake on Day 1, then over New Army Pass and down to Soldier Lake on Day 2, then up the Miter Basin on Day 3, and then…that was the big question. I was anxious about bivouacking up on those two spots on the upper Whitney trail where John stayed.  What if? I contacted John and he suggested that there was a spot just below Discovery Pinnacle. Would it be big enough for my fairly big two-person tent? If not, I’d have to bivouac too, maybe using my tent’s rain fly as a cover. And of course there’s no water anywhere once one leaves the Miter Basin, meaning I’d have to haul 2-3 liters, which is quite a heavy load. I decided to keep it all flexible and see how it went. I carried enough food for 4-5 days, meaning a bit more than I’d hopefully need.

Day 1: Cottonwood Lakes Trailhead to Upper Soldier Lake via New Army Pass and Mt. Langley. 13.8 miles  4,076 elevation gain.

 

My original plan was to only hike to Long Lake (near mile 6) on Day 1, to acclimatize and not push it.

I left my van at 7 AM and found myself at Long Lake by about 10 or so. I was just getting warmed up so after a quick stop I headed towards New Army Pass. Mt. Langley, here in the shade of a cloud on the right, beckoned tantalizingly.

I had to stop and pay my respects to the elders of this place, who live on for hundreds of years after perhaps a thousand years of life—as we know it—has been extinguished in them. The extremely dry climate means there’s almost no rot to take them down.

I headed up New Army Pass, whose maintained trail zig-zags up on the right through the rocks.

New Army Pass was built in 1955 (with explosives) because Old Army Pass (above, from last year) had snow near the top until late in the summers. Old Army Pass is not maintained and has some rough spots from washouts that require a bit of scrambling. But it’s a mile shorter to Langley and with less elevation loss and is therefore popular with Langley day hikers (some 18 miles round trip).  The pass was originally used by sheep herders and a proper trail was built in 1892, at a time when the U.S. Army was patrolling Sequoia National Park, by black soldiers from Georgia – Troop K of the Fourth Cavalry.

The view looking back over the Cottonwood Lakes basin. This is essentially the southern end of the high Sierra and at night one can always see the glow of lights from Southern California.

At the top of New Army Pass there were a few other hikers coming over from the west and taking a break. I hadn’t actually committed to summiting Langley on this trip, having done that last year. But obviously that would be more elegant, to actually make the trip from one summit to the other. It was still only noon and a perfect day, so off I headed straight ahead towards the peak. It was 2.3 miles and about 1900 feet of elevation gain to the summit; that took me two hours. So much for needing to acclimatize. I am blessed with a better than average set of lungs and always feel really good at high elevations.

Hundreds of people make the pilgrimage to Whitney every day, yet the views from Langley are every bit as good; actually more dramatic as it’s easier and a bit safer to go to the very edge of the cliffs of its peak to look over the edge. That’s the town of Lone Pine down there, about 10,000′ vertical feet below, the Inyo and Panamint ranges one the other side and Death Valley beyond.

To the southeast, the white salty remains of Owens Lake is very prominent. The whole Owens Valley was bought by the Los Angeles Water Department back in the 1920s to secure and divert its water to LA, leaving the once fertile valley dry.

If you’re a bit adventuresome, one can lay down and hang one’s head right over the edge. The cliff rocks on Langley are considered more secure than the ones on Whitney.

And of course, there’s Whitney to the north. That’s the Miter Basin down there on the left half of the image. Here I’ve  drawn the approximate line of part my route for the next day: on the far left is Sky Blue Lake, then an unnamed lake, then behind the pinnacled ridge dropping over Crabtree Pass and then up the long side of Discovery Pinnacle where I met the Whitney main trail (at Trail Pass) and then continuing on the Whitney trail to the summit.

I was beginning to think that I had Langley all to myself this perfect August day, but just as I was getting ready to head down a young couple from Belgium appeared, allowing us to make the obligatory reciprocal shots with the summit sign. They were on a whirlwind trip across the US and had summited Mt. Elbert, the tallest peak in Colorado. And they were planning to drive yet to LA after they got back to their car, another ten mile hike. “We’re young!” they said, with a big smile. I was feeling pretty good myself but I didn’t feel that young.

Somewhat surprisingly, they were the last people I would see for the next 48 hours.

At around three I headed down, and at the Langley shoulder I picked up my backpack and hiked down this lovely little “user trail” (not official) to Upper Soldier Lake, partially visible below. It’s pretty steep in parts, but a very sweet route.

Upper Soldier Lake is another of so many lovely lakes and has a few nice camp spots among the rocks slightly above the marshy lake bed.

My feet appreciated the cool water after 14 miles and over 4,000 feet elevation gain. I was tired but not exhausted; there’s a crucial difference.

I slept surprisingly well, even allowing myself to “sleep in” until almost seven, since I thought I was going to have a fairly easy day (not).

A big contributor to a good night’s sleep my Nemo Tensor air mattress. It’s a size large and long; I’m not eager to scrimp when it comes to nighttime comfort. And I even have a tiny electric inflator which I got not so much because I mind blowing it up but apparently the moist breath might allow some mold to grow in the insulating baffles. The inflator weighs all of 1.2 ounces. And an inflatable pillow is also a must.

Speaking of weight, I did replace my 4.5 lb old REI pack with a new one that weighs 1 lb 14 oz. And I left my one-pound camping chair behind. I really wanted to get my base weight (no food or water) down some without going extreme ultra-light. It’s now about 18 lbs; with a full load of food and water, it was close to 30 lbs. But one only carries water if needed, as there are usually lakes and streams from which to filter drinking water. Weight really makes a difference, especially when climbing steep rough terrain and scrambling.

Some of the rocks were very big. I wouldn’t want to be here when one comes down.

Day 2: Upper Soldier Lake to Unnamed Tarn Near Crabtree Pass in Miter Basin. 5.0 miles; 1,689′ elevation gain

By the numbers, Day 2 sounds like an easy one, but once off the trail and in rough terrain, mileage becomes largely irrelevant. The trail from Upper Soldier Lake to Soldier Lake goes through a very dense thicket of dwarf willows and I lost the trail and got engulfed (more like trapped). Not fun at all, but soon resolved.

From Soldier Lake I followed a non-trail route up a small creek drainage to Miter Basin rather than the main trail. It goes up this increasingly narrow and steeper gorge.

I gorged on the wild gooseberries that were very ripe. They have a flavor that is a bit outside the typical envelope of berries, being rather tart and low in sugar. And this variety lacked the typical spines found on most gooseberries. Made for a nice midmorning snack.

Once the last steep ridge was topped, which required a bit of scrambling, the Miter Basin unfolded before me. There are many high basins in the Sierra, since the glaciers during the Ice Age did not carve deep canyons due to being so far south. These basins are typically at 10-12 thousand foot elevation, and they offer many possibilities to hike through them via the passes that separate them as well as the many peaks. They are mostly unique to the Sierra and a key aspect of their geology and topography. The Miter basin is widely accepted to be one of the premier basins of the Sierra, if not the best. It’s what attracted me here last year as well as Mt. Langley.

After working my way up the basin, the first of a number of lakes or tarns is Sky Blue Lake. This is where I camped last year. One can see one or more of several shelves that need to be climbed in order to get to the upper lakes.

Sky Blue Lake’s color depends on the angle of the sun. As I came around its eastern side, it looked more turquoise, almost tropical.

This small tarn was nestled in the first shelf above Sky Blue Lake.

Looking back down at Sky Blue Lake and Mt. Langley.

The next lake is large but unnamed, sometimes referred to as Lake 12,136 for its elevation. I had been in somewhat of a quandary about where to camp, and thought that this might be a good spot, but its shore is all rocky. I saw on Gaia (my GPS app) that there were three little tarns higher up, quite close to Crabtree Pass. I decided to take the risk and hope that they had a suitable campsite. That would also allow me to have a source for the water I would have to carry for the next long day.

The way to those next tarns was becoming ever more challenging. Gaia was still offering a “route” (based on user waypoints from old paper maps), but since there were no visual clues one either has to look at it constantly or just take the route that seemed most suitable. I vacillated between the two.

When I arrived at the second to last tarn, I hoped it would have a suitable camp site as it was very attractive. There was one more, so I dropped my pack and headed up a bit further to take a look, at a mostly dried up marsh. So this was the one.

I found a perfect spot right at the water’s edge. Strictly speaking, one is supposed to camp at least 100′ away from the edge of a lake, but this was not possible here and I certainly wasn’t going to do anything to sully this pristine tarn, which was almost an infinity pool with its very low ledge.

As the sun began to set a bit of an evening light show began, lighting up the minarets directly across the tarn.

Langley caught the last direct rays.

But the main attraction were the bats that appeared right at sunset. They began to work the lake, taking little dives to grab bugs on the surface with their mouths, which created a tiny splash and ripple. If you look closely, there’s one just above the surface in the middle of this shot. There were four of them, and they would sometimes fly off to a cliff, presumably feeding their young. They must spend some 8-9 months of the year hibernating as at this elevation these tarns are frozen until sometime in July.

The bats apparently had no competition for the bugs, as I saw no indication that there were any California Golden trout here, an endangered native species but quite common the lakes and tarns in this part of the Sierra. The range up to 12,000′ elevation, but this tarn was at about 12,400′.  Some backpackers will carry lightweight frying pans to enjoy their catch.

Day 3: Tarn Near Crabtree Pass, Discovery Pinnacle, Mt. Whitney Summit, Trail Camp: 7.7 miles; 3,001′ elev. gain; 3,264′ elev. loss.

 

I did not have a very good night; I was facing some serious unknowns the next day. Would I make it over and down challenging Crabtree Pass and up “The Dreaded Sandhill” of Discovery Pinnacle? I had not seen another person since leaving Langley and I felt very alone and far away. This was going to be something new for me. Part of me knew I would be ok, but there’s always that nagging thought…what if? Should I chicken out and turn back? This was the last opportunity to do so.

I was awake at four but had to wait until sunrise to get under way. Listening to my favorite Mozart piano concerto I downloaded from YouTube was calming. If a young Yeol Eum Sun can stay cool and perform like that at the Tchaikovsky Piano Competition, I can do this too. This is what I had to get up and over and down the other side.

Half way up I could see the first tip of a sunlight mountain over the pass. Was it Discovery Pinnacle?

When I reached the top I had my first view of the Crabtree basin and Upper Crabtree Lake. And now I had to make an important decision as to my route.

I had done a bit of research at some Sierra hiking forums and found two alternatives.  The “safe” way was to go all the way down to the lake, skirt it on its northern edge and then head up the “Dreaded Sandhill”. It was technically easy, but progress was slow and difficult due to the soft decomposed granite “sand”, losing as much as 50-75% with each step (this image from that forum)

In the videos by John, he points to a “shelf” (or band) much higher up and closer to the pass, which means not losing some 450′ of elevation. But his pointing finger wasn’t exactly precise. Then I found further discussion of this route at another forum and it included this picture. Aha! But as I looked at the picture in detail, I was confused, as the red line appeared to be smack in the middle of some steep cliffs at the beginning. Really?  This was one of the issues that kept me up at night. I would have to see for myself and make a judgment call.

As I looked over there, that route on the previous picture (which I had with me on my phone) definitely looked off, a bit too high. Maybe they were just pointing out the general directions? I was hoping for something more specific. So I picked the shelf just below it as my target and created a mental route that I would take (in the red line). The next challenge was getting there, as the drop off from the pass was very steep and it was hard to see what would be the best route.

That turned out to be some of the most difficult scrambling of the trip. I see now that John took a more direct route down and then came back up the shelf starting point. I had to reverse and reorient a couple of times as my route would dead end in cliffs.

As I made my way across, it became totally obvious that I had made the right call and that the line from that forum image was definitely wrong. This is the right one, in case anyone wants to replicate my route.

Looking back up at Crabtree Pass. Some of the boulders are solidly fixed…others not. One could never trust which it would be.

As I approached the other side, the route I had picked out was clearly the right one, offering a way up without any serious scrambling.

It was a steep climb and the sand was loose, but I’ve encountered worse. At this point I was about even again with Crabtree Pass or a bit higher.

There is a very abrupt transition about halfway to the summit of Discovery Pinnacle, where it becomes significantly less steep and with vastly fewer large rocks, allowing the summit to come into view. Whew! The rest of the way was a cake walk if a bit of a slog. Are both possible at once?

The summit of Discovery Pinnacle (el. 13,753′) is very small and requires a bit of scrambling, but it’s well worth the view from the top.

A look back to Mt. Langley and the lake I had passed yesterday as I climbed up the Miter Basin. I suppose one could take an even more direct route via all those pinnacles, but that would be quite the technical undertaking. Most likely it’s been done. Next year?

Looking east, one gets the first view of essentially the whole area of the main Whitney trail, starting down at Whitney Portal below the dark forest. Trail Camp, my intended camping spot for the night, is visible as the green patch surrounded largely by light smooth rocks. Consultation Lake is the large one on the right and immediately below the summit one can see the last few of the 99 switchbacks that make up the upper section of the trail leading here to Trail Crest.

Looking in the direction of Whitney, the red arrow points to Trail Crest, where the trail changes abruptly to mostly level elevation as it snakes behind the numerous pinnacles before actually ascending the summit. The yellow arrow points to someone resting on the trail, my first sighting of a human in two days. Well, I would see a whole lot more starting in a few minutes after I worked my way over to Trail Crest, which turned out to be a bit tricky, to get down from the summit to that narrow gray ridge.

It took a bit of doing to get down the other side of the Pinnacle, which made walking on the top of the narrow ridge I had been a bit anxious about feel almost easy in comparison.

As I approached Trail Crest I saw three Whitney day hikers taking a break. It was my first introduction to the genre.

None of them were wearing any kind of sun protection on their heads, most critically the guy with no hair. UV radiation at this altitude is more than double that at sea level. It gave me the willies to see the sun beating on his bald head and that woman’s bare shoulders. And I saw a good number of other day hikers without hats or caps. Really? At least they started reasonably early enough to summit and get back down before dark, which is not the case with others. More on that later.

It was now 11 AM, and I felt really good about how it had gone this morning, having made it here in four hours. This meant that I did not have to worry or rush to summit Whitney, which was 1.9 miles further and then get back down the front trail to Trail Camp. It felt odd to be on an actual trail after two days of going off-trail. Mostly, it meant that I could drastically reduce the mental energy needed, as there was much less concentration required.

It’s a very spectacular trail up here, along the back of the pinnacles. I should have taken more pictures, but if you really want to get a sense of it at its best at sunset, go to 54:30 in the first video by John that I embedded. Upper and Lower Hitchcock lakes are on the left and Guitar Lake is towards the right. Guitar Lake is where most of the PCT and JMT hikers camp before climbing Whitney from the back side.

After winding its way around the pinnacles, Whitney comes into view. The trail works its way up its back side then up its summit grade. An easy but not insignificant amount of elevation gain.

Approaching the summit, the Smithsonian Institution Shelter comes into view. It was built in 1909 to house scientists studying high altitude at a time before there were airplanes that could go high. Building materials (other than the rocks) were hauled up by donkeys. It was initially proposed in 1904 after a US Fisheries employee was killed by lightning. Although it has all sorts of lightning rods and a separate wooden floor there are more recent warnings that it cannot provide secure safety from a lightning strike and that it is recommended to leave the summit in the event of a thunderstorm.

One of the rooms was open.

There was an obnoxious YouTuber with his star German Shepherd and a crew of two assistants who were making the dog do all kind of poses, hogging the famous summit sign that lives up there. When it was put down briefly to reposition the dog, I walked over and grabbed it. Sorry, but it’s meant to be used by everyone up here and there were about 20-30 people at the summit. Another guy and I took turns taking the obligatory shots with it. That’s Mt. Langley directly behind my right elbow.

Looking directly east down to Whitney Portal, the Alabama Hills and the town of Lone Pine. Death Valley is almost visible to the upper right.

Looking north to the many peaks of the Sierra and in the direction of Yosemite.

Looking down in a south-easterly direction.

And one more look to the west. It’s very obvious how Guitar Lake (right) got its name.

At 2:15 I reluctantly left the summit. It was very mild up there, with a gentle breeze. This is the trail heading back behind the pinnacles.

Trail Junction, where the John Muir Trail coming up from Guitar Lake on the back side meets the main/front Whitney trail.

A last look at Discovery Pinnacle. I can see better here why getting down from it was a bit of a challenge.

And a last look at Whitney from Trail Crest. It was now 3:30 and time to head down the 99 switchbacks to Trail Camp. Yes, there really are 99 switchbacks in this section down to Trail Camp. Some day hikers swear that it’s 999, but that’s the fatigue talking. And that just covers some 2.5 miles. There’s another six miles (and some 4,000′) to go to Whitney Portal.

This section of the switchbacks had cable guard rails installed because the very smooth slab rock below it is particularly dangerous. As can be seen, the guard rails have been bent back some, either from falling rocks or heavy snow slides from above.

I found a very nicely prepared camp spot at Trail Camp when I arrived there at about 5:30. Yes, I pleasantly tired.

I had to take my obligatory after-supper walk around, and of course take in the sunset.

 

Day 4: Trail Camp to Whitney Portal – 6.1 miles; 3,620′ elevation loss

 

 

 

I woke up at 4 AM and stepped out of my tent to see the amazing star show overhead as well as the line of day hikers heading up the trail and on the switchbacks with their headlamps on. They had started at about 1:30 or so and were obviously hoping to get to the summit at sunrise, which is kind of a thing There’s nice video of it at the Day 3 video by John above, starting at about  4:40 or so.

One is required to have bear-proof canisters for food in much of the high country these days, although bears at the higher elevations are rather rare. But there are marmots. I stepped away for ten minutes to chat with the neighbors after breakfast and when I came back to my spot this big fat fellow was eating one of my Clif bars that he’d swiped out of my open canister. I had to be a bit aggressive to get him to leave.

I headed down at about 8, feeling good. It was the homestretch, although still 6 miles.

And it also felt good to get down in the woods and shade, as it was starting to get pretty warm already. I kept encountering hikers coming up, more than half were day hikers and at this increasingly late hour (9-11 AM) they were very unlikely to summit. Some looked quite tired already. Others had just one small bottle of water in their hands and nothing else, looking like they were headed out for a neighborhood walk. Oh well; it’s a nice walk even if reality will crash in on them soon enough.

I could now see the road into Whitney Portal and thought I was getting close. But it took close to an hour yet from this point. Yes, I was getting a bit weary, mainly in my shoulders from the pack. I’ve never really made friends with a heavy backpack, having not carried one since 1972 until last year.

At 11 AM I exited the trail and headed straight for the Whitney Portal store and ordered up a chicken burger with fries and two San Pellegrino sodas. What did I enjoy the most: the fresh lettuce, tomato, onion and the pickles. That’s what one misses most eating backpack food.

Now I needed to hitchhike back to my van at the Cottonwoods trailhead. I walked down the road a bit and when I heard a car I stuck out my thumb. It was a white Tesla Model Y and although it slowed down some it kept going, as if they couldn’t quite make up their mind. Eventually they stopped and the Chinese woman in the passenger side opened her window and told me they weren’t sure what the thumbs-up gesture I was making meant. I told her and they readily invited me in.

They were on a tour of the sights of California and were loving it, having just done a short hike a bit up the trail (the first mile or two do not require a permit). We rolled down the curvy mountain road and I realized that the Tesla was in Full Self driving mode, gliding beautifully down the mountain. They dropped me off at the junction with Horseshoe Meadow Road, which heads up dramatically to about 10,000′ where it ends at the Cottonwood Trailheads.

I availed myself of the little pop-up shower in our van and gratefully put on some fresh clothes and the fresh fruit still cold in the fridge before I drove home, feeling very happy and fulfilled with this wonderful cross-country hike.

As I rolled down to Lone Pine I snapped a final picture of Langley (left) and Whitney (right).

 

Related CC reading:

I Took Up Backpacking At Age 72 – And Now I’m Hooked   by me, obviously