The Pre-Dawn Slog
Mount Humphreys has been sitting on my bucket list for years. It’s a striking, beautiful peak, and every time I’ve passed it on the trail, I knew I wanted to stand on top of it. Because of the technical climbing required, I reached out to Tyler at Sierra Mountaineering International (SMI) to guide me. Tyler had guided me before on Bear Creek Spire, and it was great to have the chance to go with him again.
We met the day before the climb and tackled an hour-and-a-half drive up one of the roughest 4WD roads I’ve ever experienced in the Sierras. We set up camp at 9,000 feet and turned in early. Our alarms went off at 2:00 a.m. After a quick breakfast and coffee, we were on trail under a full moon and headlamps. The route gets straight to business—gaining 2,000 feet in the first two miles. We slogged off-trail up a steep creek bed, bushwhacking at times, in the dark, until we reached a massive moraine at the base of the headwall below Humphreys.
Gaining the Ridge
By 5:20 a.m., the sun began to light up the canyon around us in brilliant orange. I never get tired of this time of day in the Sierra. We took a brief break, refilled water from a creek, and prepped for the next push: crossing a large boulder field and grinding up 1,000 feet of elevation through one of the loosest, lousiest chutes I’ve ever seen. Virtually every step triggered a trundle of sand and rock.
Navigating the Ridge to the Summit
Reaching the notch gave us access to the ridgeline—and that’s where the fun really began. Having already gained 3,000 feet of elevation, we transitioned to scrambling across a sharp, undulating ridge. We navigated up-and-down sections of third, fourth, and low fifth-class terrain. Finally standing on the summit was incredible. The view looking down into Humphreys Basin was vast and stunning—easily one of the grandest basins in the Sierra. Gaining 5,000 total feet over tough, unforgiving terrain made the moment at the top intensely satisfying.
An Exhausting, Sketchy Descent
We spent about 15 minutes at the summit before starting down. As rewarding as the summit was, the descent was absolute work. The terrain demanded constant focus—good rock was mixed with dangerously loose crumbly sections where pulling a hold out or kicking rocks onto each other was a real threat. What I hoped would be a quick “scree surf” down the 1,000-foot chute turned into a tedious grind. Back at the boulder field below, tired legs made balancing on unstable rocks even harder. We got back to the car a little over 12 hours from the time we started, with very few breaks. I felt pretty proud of myself. I had some doubts about my fitness level going in, and it felt great knowing I could push that hard for that long at age 58.
On the drive out, Tyler and I talked about other objectives. Mount Russell, Junction Peak, and maybe even the Palisade Traverse – something I’ve dreamed about for a decade. Right now I’ve got to sleep and recover for a few days. Knowing myself, something tells me that Tyler and I might be doing the Palisade Traverse next year or the year after. I am utterly smitten by God’s vast Sierra playground, and I just don’t think I can help myself.
The Perspective of Time and Distance
My friend Manny and I, three years ago, did the North Lake to South Lake Trail. We camped at Upper Golden Trout Lake the first night, and I took some pictures of Mount Humphreys. That was the day the mountain captured my imagination, and I began to think about when I might be able to climb it. It was fun to look back at our camp from the summit and appreciate the perspective of time and distance. Me standing on this summit seemed impossible then – and here I am. Pondering all this makes me want to be more careful and deliberate about the things that I allow to capture my imagination.
Elevation Profile
