After our last experience on the south side of Lone Pine Peak, we wanted to return immediately. However, the winds that nearly blew us off the Serrated Ridge brought with it a white blanket which covered the peaks throughout the last week. Finally, getting stir-crazy in the valley, we decided to hike in the snow to check out a future endeavor and get some fresh air. On our way, we couldn’t help but notice the dry, south-facing granite looming above us. We continued on towards the stone house, knowing that we would turn around to pack for the trip that couldn’t wait.
Salami…check. Dry milk…check. Inflatable pillows…check, check. We are ready to go by the next morning. Arriving at the base of what appeared from afar to be a ridgeline, we encountered a bunch of wide, kitty-liter quality rock. We had been hiking for about 2 hours and the idea of going around the corner to scope out other options seemed like such a challenging task. We built up the energy and walked to the right of the formation. We found a large dihedral that took off from the ground eventually hitting a saddle that connected to the large brown dihedral we had seen from afar. The climbing looked moderately difficult and we would have to climb 4-5 pitches before connecting with what we thought would be the 1st real pitch if we chose the ridge route.
We decided to stick to our plan and climb the ridge, so we wrapped our kiwi coils in order to simulclimb. Myles started up and before making any progress, called down, “You wanna go direct?” “Yes”, I called back, “this looks stupid!” We reflaked the rope and hiked back over to the beautiful dihedral…not knowing how difficult or long of a process we had in store for us, knowing only, that this was the line we had come to do. I must admit, I was nervous; the wall had transformed from a simulclimbing romp with a few more difficult pitches into the unknown. The days in mid-November are short, and the descent will be covered in snow…yet, here we go!

Myles goes up the dihedral with ease ending atop a bowling pin block. After a flake, he steps across to a roof and belays me up.
I take the rope up a chalkstone arc and wandered up the wall passing 2 beautiful flakes to where my rope ran out in an oasis. Myles joined me in my perfect little hole and took off over a chicken-head roof crack, eventually belying in an alcove about 100 ft. up. His pitch was short, which he briefly mentioned while we looked up at the lieback I was about to climb. I used the nut tool to clean-out a spot for gear in the beginning (a technique we had used a time or two before on this route). As I reached the top where the lie-back widened and my only #3 was 10’ under me (the other was at the belay), I reached up and found the jug…except it was moss. The slickest, oozing, slimy moss I have ever encountered! I tried to jam my thigh into the crack and all of the sudden…POP! I was off. Hanging 10 ft, below my piece, I collected myself. “My turn”, I hear not 20 seconds later. “Bullshit!” I yell back as I grab the rope and get to high point as quickly as possible. This time, I put in another piece a little lower and take my #3 with me. I go again for the mossy jug, my thigh slips in, and I place my #3- whew! I skim up the mossy, muddy, wide crack to join into another wide crack. My angry partner joins me at my tree belay and renounces my decision to go up the wide crack instead of going up the face…with no pro. We had to carry our boots, microspikes, as well as the ordinary all-day climbing items; making the 2nd carry a thick, heavy pack. Haha. He took the rope left over some 4th class to the case of the brown dihedral. He went up the odd, brown face protecting the crack. After standing on some questionable, but necessary, blocks on the face, he moved left to a ledge and belay. I went up some flakes, over a ledge, and worked the ledge left to where I encountered easy knobs to a thin ledge belay. The experience of tiptoeing across unprotected, easy knob-climbing has become one of my favorite aspects of climbing in the Sierras…the other option was a wide crack, which my partner wouldn’t have appreciated! Myles then walked up a ramp to make an unnerving move across to an overhanging, wide crack with bushes on top. After a difficult move, he lead us past flakes and cracks to the summit.
That was it. We were done. The sun had almost hidden behind the canyon leaving us just enough time to get back to camp. The descent is long and snowy, but we could still manage to see our faint tracks from 2 weeks ago and our microspikes kick ass:) As we relaxed by the fire that night, Myles asked me what my favorite part of the day was. Thinking for a moment, I replied, “When you wanted to do the direct.”
We have no prior knowledge of the route being done. It goes up the white fin on the right-hand side of Autumn Ledges for about 1450 ft. Even though I fell, I think it goes at about 5.9…without the moss!