A Solo Tour of the Northern La Sals

Intro

I had been planning a trip to the La Sal Mountains of southeastern Utah since the beginning of 2011. When the $250 round-trip Richmond-Denver airfare special appeared on the Internet in early January, I pounced on the opportunity and bought tickets for the second week in May.

I had seen the La Sals from a distance in April/May 2010 when visiting Arches and Canyonlands national parks, and I had gotten a closer view when briefly passing through Moab. The snow-covered range was virtually unknown to me, and it quickly captured my interest. I had been (and continue to be) drawn to less-traveled peaks and ranges, so these mountains became my next serious mountaineering objective.

Planning/Prep/Travel

My trip planning consisted of reviews of Summitpost.org pages, purchase of topo maps and books of the area, and extensive analysis of the approaches and routes on the peaks. I had ambitious aspirations of climbing as many as 15 peaks over 11,000’ during the week I would be based in Moab, but my high hopes were tempered after speaking with one of the local climbing rangers in late April. He indicated that there was still a lot of snow in the mountains and that the high passes and normal trailheads were not accessible by motor vehicle. Consequently, long approach marches would be necessary, and these approaches would require snowshoes.

Armed with this information, I packed accordingly and departed Richmond on Saturday morning, May 7. My American Airlines flights took me from Richmond to Dallas and then on to Denver. I arrived in Denver shortly after 11 AM Mountain Time, and after retrieving my mountaineering duffle I headed to the Enterprise rental lot. I was pleasantly surprised to receive a free upgrade from a Jeep Liberty to a slightly beefier Jeep Patriot, and I set off for Moab at around noon.

The six-hour drive to Moab passed uneventfully and I arrived at the Motel 6 on Main Street right at 6 PM. At 9 PM, I called the front desk for a 4 AM wakeup call, and I was promptly told “That’s just wrong”. I couldn’t disagree, but I was determined to get a good start on the week’s activities. Before turning in, I checked the weather for Sunday and found a forecast of sunny, seasonable temperatures, and windy. Little did I know that the “windy” aspect would become such a huge understatement.

A Long Day - The Approach

After the 4 AM alarm arrived far too soon, I ate a quick breakfast, made a few final arrangements, and headed for the car. As I passed the front desk, I dropped off my planned route for the day, seeing as I was going solo and wanted to let people know where I’d be. Based on personal estimates for the route and Summitpost.org beta, I figured I should be back by 6 PM at the latest.

I departed the hotel at 4:45 AM and headed south on US 191. I picked up the paved La Sal Mountain Loop road and followed it to the Miners Basin gravel access road, which was to my surprise not closed. I had anticipated having to walk the three miles from the paved road all the way into Miners Basin, so any additional distance in the vehicle was a definite bonus. Well, the bonus lasted all of eight-tenths of a mile before the snow became impassable, but it was better than nothing.

I parked, got out of the car, pulled out my gear, strapped on my gaiters, and at 6 AM headed up the road toward Miners Basin. I was carrying a 70 ounce Camelbak, a one-liter Sigg bottle, crampons, ice axe, snowshoes, food, warm clothes, and a first aid kit, for a total of about 20 pounds.

The two-mile walk into Miners Basin took about an hour, and I alternated between boots and snowshoes as the road conditions varied between gravel and drifted snow. The sun was illuminating the ridge tops as I reached the sign board behind the summer parking lot.

A Long Day - The Climbing

Following a brief map review, I set off cross-country toward the 10,700’ saddle between Horse Mountain (11,130’) and Mineral Mountain (11,608’). The snow conditions were excellent and I ended up carrying a snowshoe in either hand during the trek up to the saddle. The climbing ranger had stated that the ridgelines should be wind-scoured and would provide fast travel, so I decided to stash the snowshoes (along with a liter of water) at the saddle for use on my return.

As I left the saddle and entered the woods to begin the ascent of Mineral Mountain, I began to break through the crust up to my knees. I briefly contemplated returning to the saddle to retrieve the snowshoes, but I knew they would only slow me down once I gained the main ridge, so I continued plowing through the powder.

The topography of the La Sal Mountains began to reveal itself as I topped out on Mineral Mountain. The northern aspect was on my left, with La Sal Peak (12,001’) peeking over the western ridge of Castle Mountain (12,044’); Mount Waas (12,331’) to the right of Castle Mountain; and Green Mountain (12,163’) directly in front of me. Pilot Mountain (12,220’) was down the main ridge to the right of Green Mountain, and beyond Pilot rose the southern peaks of the range. Mount Peale (12,721’, the highest mountain in the La Sals) was just visible over the north face of Mount Mellenthin (12,645’, second highest in the La Sals), and these two peaks along with Mount Tukuhnivikatz (12,482’, third highest in the range) dominated the view to the south.



I snapped a few photos and then dropped off Mineral Mountain’s summit to begin the 500 foot ascent to the top of Green Mountain. This is when the “windy” part of the “sunny, seasonable, and windy” forecast made its presence known. For the remainder of the day, 30-40 mph breezes were the norm. I took a break to add an insulating layer on top, a windproof layer on the bottom, and a balaclava and heavier gloves. The rest of the ascent proceeded without incident and I was soon standing on top of Green Mountain.



My plan for the day was to ascend four “official” 12,000 foot peaks, which are peaks with more than 300 feet of prominence. Green Mountain did not qualify in this category, and I was just using it as a means to gain the main ridge. My intended sequence was Green Mountain, Pilot Mountain (first of the four target 12,000ers), Green Mountain, Mount Waas (second of the four 12,000ers), Castle Mountain (third), and La Sal Peak (fourth and final).



I was making good time and I headed south along the ridge to Pilot Mountain. I dropped my pack on the lee side of the saddle between Green and Pilot and quickly made the summit of Pilot for my first 12,000er of the day. The return trip to my pack was uneventful and I stopped to have the first of my two lunches. The day was proceeding according to schedule.



Following the brief lunch, I re-ascended to Green Mountain and dropped into the saddle between Green and Waas. The wind was picking up, and the roughly 600-foot ascent to the summit of Waas seemed interminable. Upon reaching the top I was rewarded with a fantastic view of Castle Mountain and La Sal Peak, and as I turned around I had the panorama of the southern La Sals. I captured the scenes with my Panasonic Lumix and began the descent to the Waas-Castle saddle.




The switchbacks made quick work of the descent, and as I started up Castle Mountain the winds reached their full force. Having spent quite a bit of time in New Hampshire’s White Mountains (and having gone airborne once in a 100+ mph gust), I was pretty familiar with wind speeds and their effect on my less-than-burly physique. The winds reached a steady 50-60 mph for much of the ascent, with one gust of 70-75 mph that nearly knocked me off the ridge. I spent a good deal of the time bent over with my ice axe spike buried in the snow, holding on until the gusts subsided.

There were a couple of false summits and I finally topped out on Castle for the third 12,000er of the day. My stay on top was very brief, just enough for a couple of photos, and I dropped back down toward the Waas-Castle saddle. The angle was gentle enough that I did not have to return all the way to the saddle, and I headed directly toward the Castle-La Sal saddle.



As I stood at the saddle, I realized just how exhausted I was. The combination of lack of acclimatization, high winds, and deep snow had taken a lot out of me, and I debated whether to attempt La Sal Peak or just head back down. I realized that I wouldn’t have this opportunity again anytime soon, so I headed up the slope.

The top of La Sal Peak is broad, flat, and primarily small talus and the wind pushed me around as I walked around trying to find the highest point. My views to the south contained the entire La Sal range, and I spent some time identifying the most efficient way to return to the saddle where my snowshoes and extra water were cached. I briefly contemplated taking a route on the north side of Castle Mountain, but the contour lines looked much more forgiving on the south side so I returned to the Castle-Waas saddle and began the descent into the drainage.

A Long Day - The Descent

My initial descent was a beeline toward the lowest part of the Mineral-Horse saddle, but this route involved difficult side-hilling. As I debated heading directly down, a gust of wind ripped the baseball hat off my head and blew it several hundred yards straight down the slope into the basin. Well, this made my decision easy. I followed the hat’s path to the valley floor and retrieved it before it disappeared.

I continued down the drainage to a point directly below the saddle where my gear patiently waited, and I estimated I had about 250 feet of elevation to ascend. I started up the slope through the trees, and I sank in to my waist at every step. After 30 minutes of strenuous effort, I had only made it about halfway up the slope, and I was completely out of gas. For the first time in my climbing life, there was some doubt about whether I would be able to make it back without an unplanned overnight, and it was not a pleasant thought.

Another half hour finally brought me to the saddle, and I realized that it was all downhill from there. However, there was one more hurdle to overcome. Where was the gear? I desperately needed the water, as I had finished my two quarts while up on the main ridge. And the snowshoes would make the 2500 feet of descent over deep snow infinitely easier. I combed the saddle for 20 minutes, trying to identify the route by which I had come up in the morning. I even tried to match my location with a view in a photo of Mineral Mountain that I had taken before ascending. No luck. It was time to head down.

The next hour was an endless slog through drifts until I finally made it back to Miners Basin. I spent the entire time trying to avoid twisting an ankle, torqueing a knee, or worse as I plunged through up to my knees, waist, and once to mid-chest. It was another hour before I reached my car at 7 PM, exhausted but completely happy and satisfied.

Recap

Distance: 12 miles
Time: 13 hours
Elevation gained: >5700 feet
Elevation lost: >5700 feet
My gear lost: 1 Sigg bottle
Friend’s gear lost: 1 set MSR EVO Ascent snowshoes

Images

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