Trip Report

Skiing the Bairs Creek Cirque

Adventures in Soul-Crushing on California's Second-Highest Fourteener

Blue sky, granite, and snow: the Bairs Creek Cirque is a backcountry skiing masterpiece. Glaciers created the Cirque, a massive natural amphitheater on the eastern flanks of 14,375' Mount Williamson, in the California Sierra.

Preparations

1. Preparations
2. 5906'
3. Looking for the Notch
4. The Hero's Traverse
5. Ode to Williamson
6. Heartbreak Ridge
7. Sage Camp
8. Skinning in the Dark
9. Headwall at Dawn
10. Williamson Summit
11. Once Is Enough

DARKNESS. I have been climbing in darkness for hours on this massive mountain and my will is crumbling. I have climbed thousands of vertical feet of talus, sand, and gravel—a cumulative attack on body and spirit that has finally brought me to a halt. I've reached the crux of my climb right here, right now, in the middle of the night, body exhausted, mind defeated, surrounded by towering spires of granite that rise against the stars...

True story: for the past year, whenever I have been in discomfort, whenever I have felt weak or sick, or banged my toe on a corner, gotten stuck in traffic, or just been lowered by the usual existential angst, I have quelled my misery with a simple mantra—this is good training for Williamson.

If you have ever driven California's Highway 395 through Owens Valley, you know Mount Williamson.

Amongst the many impressive peaks towering some 10,000 vertical feet over Owens Valley, Williamson is easily identifiable.

It is the big mountain.

At 14,375 feet above sea level, Williamson is California's second highest peak, behind Mount Whitney. But, as Climbing California's Fourteeners authors Stephen Porcella and Cameron Burns put it, "In overall dimensions, Mount Williamson has no rival."

Williamson is the kind of mountain that offers an unmistakable invitation to all who gaze at its immense profile.

If they even hear it, most people say a polite 'no thank you' and go on with their business.

For some of us, however, such callings seem to awaken something deep within the blood.

So it was for me when I first saw Williamson and its massive Bairs Creek Cirque towering over the sleepy town of Independence, California.

The North Fork of Williamson's Bairs Creek drainage offers a particularly fine example of a cirque—a huge amphitheater carved out by glacial action. The Bairs Creek Cirque is approximately two miles long, slightly under a half mile wide, and ringed by 500' cliffs.

Viewed from Highway 395, the Cirque's gleaming upper snowfields and Headwall Couloir are as tempting a skier's treat as anything along the entire Eastern Sierra.

Via the Bairs Creek Cirque, it is possible to ski from the true summit of Mount Williamson, down the headwall, through the Cirque, and all the way down (in good conditions) to 7000' or so, deep within the claustrophobic lower reaches of the drainage.

But backcountry travelers beware: climbing Mount Williamson poses many challenges.

The Bairs Creek area first of all lies within the protected California Bighorn Sheep Preserve, and hiker access is restricted to only a few weeks each Spring.

Issues of Red Tape aside, Williamson stands ready to crush any would-be suitors with an approach savage enough to turn back even the most hardened mountaineer.

I first attempted to ski the Bairs Creek Cirque in May 2005. After battling talus, thorns, and scrub for nearly 4000 trailless vertical feet, I turned back, having barely reached the snow. The unexpected difficulty of the approach made me wonder if success was even possible. Subsequent research showed that many others have experienced similar defeat.

Returning to Mount Williamson would require a number of adjustments. Physical preparation, technique, gear, strategy—everything would have to change if I was to have any chance of success.

I had learned something critical while flailing about on Williamson's flanks: there was no rational way to justify the effort and suffering involved. Returning to Williamson would not be about enjoying a spectacular ski descent (even if such was the case). No, I would need a new reason to motivate me, to keep me moving upward with skis on my back when every shred of reason screamed otherwise.

Hence my unusual strategy of the past year, turning life's trials into training. I would have to patch together a crazy quilt of determination, stoicism, optimism, denial, and—yes—even raw arrogance. In the end, I could only hope it would be enough to get me to the summit and back.

Next: 5906 »