Getting up and ready to walk has become rote. It takes us about 45 minutes to cook and eat breakfast, pack and start walking, meaning we are on the road by 7:00 am most days. Today was one of those. Today, we climbed up the east ridge of Mt. Conness, then dropped down the other side to a series of small lakes left in pockets in the bedrock granite after the last ice age, then traversed a bit and headed up over Sky Pilot Pass, named for its airy altitude and the flowers that populate its slopes, the blue Sky Pilot.
Climbing the south side of Conness’s east ridge is straight forward, just a walk up through rocks, willows, meadows and boulders. Reaching the top can bring a shock, because the north side is a vertical cliff for 300-400 feet, followed with 300-400 feet of steep talus. Luckily, by turning west and climbing another 300 vertical feet a rounded ridge running north presents itself, giving easy walking down to the valleys on the north side.
We tried our luck fishing in the lakes on the north side of the east ridge of Mt. Conness, but with not even a bite. We packed our poles and headed up for Sky Pilot Pass. My memory is of a nasty scree slope up to the top and a nasty scree slope down the other side.The key word here is nasty.
The climb up the south side was as I remembered, nasty scree. But, it went quick and we soon topped out. The north side provided two choices for the descent. In 2010, we turned east out of the notch that is the pass and worked our way down some talus that was memorable for its nastiness. This year, I noticed a well trod “use” trail going west and decided to explore it as an alternative way of getting off the pass. Once we had descended 30 vertical feet I knew this what not a good decision. We found ourselves in loose, unstable dirt and talus that formed mini landslides with each foot placement. It was steep! With me below Craig on the slope, we zig zagged our way down, mindful to avoid getting directly below Craig due to the copious rockfall. One hundred and fifty vertical feet of this stuff was more than enough to endure, and thankfully, it ended, depositing us on a snowfield.
The notch that is Sky Pilot Pass is situated where white granitic rock meets dark metamorphic rock. The valley that stretches north from the pass is composed of white rock on the west side and black on the east, meeting in the exact bottom of this v-shaped, narrow gully. It stretches on for a mile or so in this way. The color is not the only remarkable aspect to this stretch of the high route. It is a boulder strewn valley, testing the endurance of our knees as we hop from rock to rock as we descend to Shepherd Lake, searching for dirt to descend in a sea of boulders.
Shepherd Lake is above tree line. Except for a few white bark pines on the north shore, it is surrounded by a small margin of meadow in the sea of boulders. We took shelter from the punishing wind amongst the pines, spread our sleeping pads and lay down for an afternoon nap.
After an hour, we continued our descent, picking our way carefully down the slope, avoiding the swaths of entangling willow bushes that lined the bottom of the draw. Soon, we were in a forest of tall lodgepole pines, walking through waist deep grasses and spent lupines.
Finally, we hit the bottom of Virginia Canyon, marked by Virginia Creek. We stumbled onto a horseman’s camp, marked by big fire pits and sawn tree logs for stools. The weather was warmer than it had been for a few days and we enjoyed relaxing in the afternoon sun without being bundled in down.
I quickly picked a place to lay my sleeping pad and started to relax. After a few minutes flat on my back staring up at the sky I began to notice how many dead trees were standing in the campsite, including one leaning over the top of me. I reconsidered my bedsite, and moved to a place out of danger.
I handed Craig my iPhone about dark, along with my earbuds, and he enjoyed the movie “Fury” as the darkness descended and the stars fought with the light of the moon to show themselves. Our last glorious night of the high route.
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