The Langley Loop — Page 2

Cottonwood Lakes

1. Horseshoe Meadows
2. Cottonwood Lakes
3. The East-Southeast Ridge
4. Diaz Creek & Owens Valley
5. Moonscape
6. 14,039 feet above Sea Level
7. Crashing Army Pass
8. Finishing the Loop

I reach the cottonwood lakes in a little over an hour. For the first time, the south face of Langley comes into view, as well as Army Pass, and Peak 12891.

Now is a good time to stop, scout the route ahead, and take some photos, as the rising sun casts long shadows across damp grass, interrupted by the occasional bleached-white boulder.

It makes for a rich visual palate, but I'm feeling impatient and don't want to spend too much time sightseeing.

Instead, I look ahead, toward Langley, seeking out possible routes.

I intend to hike one big loop today, up Langley's East-Southeast Ridge, to the summit, and then descending via Army Pass, 'old' or 'new', back to the Lakes.

From what I see so far, the route looks feasible, though it means a lot of walking.

I survey Langley's rousing south face, one of the Sierra's big walls of crack-lined granite.

The rock-climbing opportunities are numerous, and appear outstanding, but I think I'll stick with hiking today.

In Climbing California's Fourteeners, authors Stephen Porcella and Cameron Burns note Langley has a reputation as an "uninteresting" mountain.

I'll vigorously second their opinion that nothing could be farther from the truth.

If Mount Langley's imposing south wall isn't enough for you, the north face is every bit as sheer, perhaps more so, with an even greater vertical relief.

And you can ski it.

There is, of course, one huge reason why Langley's rock is mostly untouched: we're right next door to Whitney Peak, only a few miles north.

The glamour and prestige of Whitney acts like a magnet, drawing climbers in the region, leaving Langley an unloved sister in comparison.

Crossing the meadows is something of a chore today. Heavy winter snows have transformed the Cottonwood Lakes area into one giant marsh.

I struggle to stay on dry land to cross, occasionally cutting back and forth.

The obvious solution is to stay to the right, traversing underneath the southeast ridge line, but past experience has shown that way to be riddled with difficult talus.

In the end, I'm forced to tiptoe across a section of thick green grass, from which comes the bubble of running water.

My shoes get a little wet, but I reach solid ground. And with that bold maneuver, I at last pass beyond the soggy meadows.

The necessary route to the top of the east ridge lies ahead, hidden (for now) alongside Langley's south wall. I reach the last and highest of the Cottonwood Lakes, a clear-blue glacial pond set beneath a chaotic tumble of talus blocks.

The air remains cool. Unlike my last big hike, on Mount Williamson, it doesn't look like the day is going to warm up much—more like fall than summer. I stop for a bite to eat beside the lake. Peak 12891 rises to the east, presenting an impenetrable wall of granite. As I look up and scan that sheer granite, I'm still uncertain as to where, exactly, the route lies.

Is it up against the south face? Or is it closer, somewhere underneath the overhanging rock of Peak 12891? Unless my guidebook has been playing tricks on me, I'll find a narrow gully somewhere between these walls of granite, permitting passage to the ridgeline above. From my current position, however, I can't see anything that looks less than Class V climbing.

next: the East-Southeast Ridge »