Highpoint #39: Nevada

The Highest Point in Nevada!

Only a month ago I set out on a long (4000+ miles) road trip to the upper Midwest to gain five new highpoints.  Apparently, I felt enough time had lapsed as I was once again in search of more highpoints.  Having completed all of the states east of the Rocky Mountains, it was now time to start booking flights.  I traded in some of my airline miles for a sweet set of roundtrip tickets to Las Vegas.  Indeed, the next highpoint I had in mind to tackle was Nevada! 

Airline miles are much more difficult to use these days though, so it was pretty difficult to find days, times, and even airports that made sense for what I wanted to do.  There was not a single free flight to Reno for the entire month of August, for example.  All I could find was a Monday night flight to Vegas, and even then only first class seats were all that was available costing me twice as many miles.  Ugh!  The flight endured a pretty raucous storm and put me into Vegas at around 10:30pm local time.  From there, I proceeded to drive my rental car northward into the desert all through the night arriving at the turn off road for Boundary Peak around 3am.  

Turn-Off for Mining Road (and Trailhead)
 

This was the most sensible place to stop as it was another 15 miles off-road on a rough mining road to the Trail Canyon trailhead with the occasional steep drop-off along the way.  These are the sort of driving conditions I am reluctant to endure during the day, and certainly would not think of doing in the dark cover of night.  So, I decided to take a nap in my car until dawn approached. 

Nevada is Kind of Pretty at Dawn

 

Boundary Peak is Faintly Visible in the Background

 

As I sensed the sun coming up, I properly woke up and began the drive to the trailhead.  Fortunately, on my visit the road had not seen any recent rain.  This made for much smoother passage with no streams to cross.  Apparently during inclement weather, the conditions can be quite a bit worse, with the road not even recommended for use. 

"Travel Not Advised During Inclement Weather" -- Good to Know!

The road was minimally signed, but I was relying on detailed turn-by-turn directions that I found attached to someone’s trip report online, so it was not too difficult to figure out which way to go at the different intersections.  Really the focus was just on driving slow enough to accommodate the occasional large rock on the road.  For the most part though, the road was graded and simply gravelly, so it was not the ordeal that I was led to believe it would be.  My rental car, a Chevy Impala, easily negotiated the terrain.  The only issue I encountered the whole time was some scrub brush extending into the roadway area near the top which could have led to scraping of the car, if I wasn’t careful. 

The Only Indication that You are at a Trailhead

 

The Trailhead

The trailhead doubled as cow pasture, but there was a formal kiosk and trail register so there was no mistaking it.  The kiosk warned of bears and advised taking the usual precautions with regards to food.  After a quick signature at the register, I was off. 

Let's Do It!

 

This Trail Will Soon Disappear

 

The obvious path leading away from the trail register, quickly became a user path, then a herd path, and then disappeared altogether from view.  The direction was clear however; keep heading uphill through the canyon advancing ever closer towards the highest mountain in sight.  I dashed from one herd path to another, working my way around lots of mountain mahogany scrub and through large thickets. 

Left or Right?  (Note the Large Boulder)

I soon put the vegetation zone behind me.  Ahead lay two potential paths.  To the right, I could continue along this same line and make my way for a low-lying ridge.  From there I would have to hike up a steep slope to gain the summit ridge and proceed to traipse along it until I arrived at the summit of Boundary Peak.  To the left, I could make my way into a cirque, have a very steep climb to the summit ridge, and make a quick dash over to the summit.  At least, that was how everything looked to the eyes of the beholder down in the valley.  I think the standard approach is to go right, with a less popular variation being to go left.  Not knowing this, I went left hoping for a very direct route.

Deceptively Easy

 

I was encouraged by a prominent path, mostly sandy, leading deep into the cirque.  I was less encouraged by the rocks strewn about everywhere as I was clearly proceeding along the fall line for this mountain.   The summit ridge in the distance looked like it would be very easy to gain.  I clearly did not realize how deceptive elevation can be out in the desert.  What in fact lay ahead for me was 3000 feet of elevation gain through scree and talus.  Oh what a torture this was going to be!

Slowly Progressing

I proceeded in a straight line right through the middle of the cirque making it about half way up.  The sections were gradually becoming steeper, and the scree was becoming deeper.  There was lots of unstable rock as well.  I opted to start making my way to the left to try to make it for a lower ridge line that would connect to the summit ridge.  In part, I was encouraged by the much larger sized rocks that had a better chance of holding my weight without slipping into the sandy scree.  I did my best to hop rocks and use my trekking poles for added points of support.  Progress was significantly slowed, but I ultimately made it over to that ridge. 

Lower (South) Ridge

 

From the ridge I had a giant block of rocks and boulders ahead of me.  I hoped none of them would dislodge or it could very well have been the end for me given their massive size. 

First Obstacle of the Day

I descended some on the opposite side of the ridge and worked my way around the rock obstacle with steady Class II/III climbing.  I eventually made my way around it and continued to proceed up the ridge more until it connected with the summit ridge. 

Yay -- The Summit Ridge!

I was just about to give myself a pat on the back for the extended effort, sensing the summit to only be hundreds of feet away.  As I made my way further up, all the way to what I perceived to be the top, I realized that the point I had been hiking towards for the last few hours was a false summit.  Indeed, yet another rising mound lay ahead of me along the ever continuing summit ridge. Additionally, there would be more large rocks to climb around.  Great!

Still Not There Yet!

The drudgery aside, I was actually pretty encouraged.  From this new vantage point, it was pretty clear that I was now heading towards the true summit.  I made my way through the last steps and closed in upon the summit area.  There was a semicircular wind break made from rocks with a small American flag protruding out above it.  Tucked inside the rock formation, there was an ammo box containing the summit register. 

The Summit!

First things first, I made my way over to a nearby rock which was emblazoned with the USGS boundary marker marking the true summit. 

Vanity Shot at USGS Boundary Marker
 

Detail of USGS Boundary Marker (The True Summit)

 

After a quick vanity shot, I opted to dig into the box with the summit register.  There was a Nevada state flag, a few trinkets, and a wire-bound notebook.  I inked an entry marking my 39^th highpoint – yay! 

Apparently, This is a "Good Recovery Hike after Climbing Half Dome"!

 

I took photos of the magnificent views and took some time to soak it all in.  There was no wind at all; the weather was beautiful; and it was still plenty early in the day!  I tarried a little bit more than usual as a result.  I was just impressed with the expanse that the low-lying desert afforded.  This is definitely a part of the country I would never have seen if it were not for highpointing. 

The Landscape Seems Other-Worldly at Times

After a little bit of time, I prepared for the descent. 

Now Just Head Straight Down!

The scrambling was pretty straightforward, but once I descended below the ridgeline it was back to the ever giving scree.  Basically, it was just one slow, controlled slide until I could make my way down to the canyon area. 

Keep Going Down!

Interestingly enough, the canyon ended up being tricky to navigate.  I had no luck in finding any well-defined trail back to the trailhead.  I knew of course to keep heading down and the canyon walls bounded how far laterally that I could move, but once I got into the thickets I could not find a good route.  I was dodging branches and cow patties everywhere, hopping creeks, and even dodging cattle!  This was ridiculous!  At one point, I thought I was actually lost.  Sure enough though, at that point I was a mere 20 feet away from the trailhead register.  Wow!  I made my way out to where I parked my car, following a few straggling cows.  I wrangled them onward towards the water, and got back into my car.  I guess I missed my calling as a rancher!



Parting View of Boundary Peak from the Highway

 



From here, I was off to Mt. Shasta to treat myself to a good glacier climb via the Hotlum glacier route.  After that, the highest point in California was on the slate:  Mt. Whitney. 

Highpoint #38: Michigan

The Highest Point in Michigan!

After finishing climbing to the highest point in North Dakota, I pushed onward in search of lodging for the night.  This was apparently a tall order in western North Dakota with many hotels not having any rooms available and the few that did requesting upwards of $200 for a night’s stay.  Mind you I was, by all indications, still in the middle of nowhere.  This was, of course, the effect of the ongoing oil boom.  Eventually the exhaustion of the long day (3 state highpoints) and all of the driving meant that I would just have to stay at the next place with a vacancy or risk falling asleep at the wheel.  Sure enough, an overpriced, dingy roadside motel with towels for curtains and a broken window on the screen door would be my home for the night.  Sadly, it was the last room left for the night.  Wow!

The next morning I got an early start on the steady drive back east.  I was in for a long haul of driving to make it to my next destination, the upper peninsula of Michigan.  The gimmicky yet enticing roadside attractions (e.g., world’s largest sandhill crane) that disrupted the monotony of the North Dakota interstate soon gave way to the myriad of lakes that made up northern Minnesota.  As I meandered along comparably more rural roads, I was pleased that my correspondingly slower pace allowed me time to more fully appreciate the backdrop of natural beauty that was passing by.  Who knew Minnesota was so pretty?  I eventually made it to Duluth, eagerly awaiting a delicious meal at the Duluth Grill, and I was not disappointed.  I happily discovered this fine establishment on my winter highpointing trip to Minnesota this past winter, and I was very pleased to have an excuse to return.  After Duluth, it was very rural driving in Wisconsin and finally the upper peninsula of Michigan.  The sun had long set, and I was still burrowing my way into the peninsula. 

Lodging was out of the question, so I kept pushing on to the highpoint:  Mt. Arvon.  I eventually arrived at the dirt turn-off road for the mountain after midnight.  I still had 8 miles of rough logging roads leading most of the way to the summit left to negotiate with daylight still more than a few hours away.  This would be no small feat.  The road has many turns.  In fact, I downloaded and printed out turn-by-turn directions which were measured down to the nearest tenth of a mile, and I still had to pay close attention.  Mind you, there were blue directional markers at several key intersections, but sometimes such markers would be invisible due to overgrowth or simply not present at all.  Another issue was that being certain of the route was not the same thing as being certain of the road.  Some patches were badly eroded and very uneven.  Even with a slow approach, I still managed to bottom out once.  That scraping sound can be heartbreaking in the middle of the night, especially with more miles of equally bad terrain lying in wait.  Some passes were steep and curvy, and the lack of daylight only added to the uncertainty of the route ahead. 



Blue Arrows are Helpful, When Present



Some Signs are Hidden (Good Luck Finding them at Night)

I ended up calling it a night at the old parking lot (read flat grassy area) that is located  a good half mile or so from the summit.  It was around 1am at this point, and I opted to sleep in my car until sunrise.

I awoke in early dawn to a ridiculous number of mosquito bites.  Apparently quite a number of mosquitos and even a few moths entered my car in the brief period that I stepped outside of it before retiring for the night.  The insects were fierce in these parts!

With a light misting rain, I grabbed my raincoat and my headlamp, and I was off to cover the rest of the way on foot.  The condition of the road was consistent with what I had covered the night before, so I apparently could have driven the rest of the way.  From what I have read, it used to be that this was not the case, and proceeding by foot was necessary.  Oh well, I did not mind a little early morning walking.  I followed the final stretches of the road as it wrapped its way up to the summit.  I reached another flat grassy area suitable for parking and a sign for Mt. Arvon. 



Sign Before Entrance to Summit

Beyond the sign, there was a thicket of woods and a wide path leading into it.  


Summit Lies just Ahead

After a few paces, I found myself at the highest point in Michigan which was marked with a fancy sky blue sign in the shape of a diamond.  Beyond the sign, there were still several points of interest to note. 

First among them, of course, is the summit register which was housed in its own official sky blue mailbox.  I added the first signature of the day to it. 

Summit Register

Immediately next to the register is the official summit boundary marker which was housed in a raised stone platform. 

Official Summit USGS Boundary Marker

Vanity Shot at the Summit Marker

There was also an official highpointer’s bench at this site.

Note the Very Large Spider Circled in Red

Rounding out the summit, there was a picnic table, a grill, a memorial wreath for someone who had died, and a sign promising a view. 

View of the Summit Area in Better Light

Could there be?

A view?  This would be interesting since the thick tree growth at this spot was a doing a pretty good job of blocking out most of the daylight and not affording any view at all.  I dutifully followed a path in the direction of the sign and, sure enough, arrived at a small clearing.  I suppose someone was very intent on having a summit view, so they essentially created one.  Oh, well.  This was not so important to me. If anything, I found it very reminiscent of Mt. Rogers, the highest point in Virginia.  To me, it is understood that low elevation highpoints will necessarily be sub-alpine. 

Man-Made View Near the Summit

After taking the usual pictures, I made my way back down to the car and drove carefully the rest of the way down. 

Puddles Give an Indication of the Topography, Pre-Rain

I made a wrong turn near the end, wound up a mile later at a “No Trespassing” sign, turned around and was soon chased down by a very fast moving truck that disappeared once I made it back to the intersection where I made the errant turn.  Someone did not want me around there!  I am glad I did not make that mistake at 1am – yikes!  I eventually made it to the road and back to L’Anse.  Would you believe along the road that I saw a Canadian lynx crossing it?  Whoa!  The fauna here is for real. 

From there on, it was simply the long drive home that awaited me.   This ended up being a really great trip.  I tried for 6 highpoints and managed to visit all of them.  Now I have “the dirty dozen” left.  The level of difficulty is going to jump a bit now…