The Kaweah Traverse

Recently Kevin Burkhart and I climbed the Kaweah Traverse in Sequoia National Park. Ours was the third or maybe fourth ascent of the traverse and the first time (that I know of) that it's been guided. 

Yours truly on the approach with most of the traverse in the background. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

In a big mountain range full of fantastic alpine ridges, the Kaweahs are a bit of an anomaly. This group of 13,000 foot peaks are not, for the most part, made up of the granite for which the range is famous. Instead they are of a rock that is significantly lower in quality. The original Kaweah Traverse was accomplished by Andy Selters, Claude Fiddler, and Danny Whitmore in July of 1997. This trio traversed about two miles of ridge line, from Black Kaweah to Second Kaweah, taking on 6 other named 13'ers and a bunch of unnamed bumps and towers in between. Climbing California's High Sierra rates the traverse IV 5.9. There is minimal information available about the route. 

I think Kevin first mentioned the Kaweahs to me when he, his wife Heather, and I did the Palisade Traverse (Thunderbolt to Sill) several years ago. As someone who is fond of Sierra ridges it was on my radar, and the fact that he brought it up piqued my interest. Here was somebody as interested in this obscure route as I was!

A year passed and Kevin returned to the Eastern Sierra last summer to climb the Sun Ribbon Arete on Temple Crag. Again the Kaweahs were spoken of. Then we had one of snowiest winters ever. I knew that we would need to bivy on the ridge to succeed, and that meant we would need snow to melt for water. As soon as it became clear to me that there would be no lack of snow, I reached out to Kevin and the planning began. 

Kevin somewhere on the East Ridge of Black Kaweah.

I was up front with Kevin right from the start that not only had I not done the traverse, I had never even been in that part of the range before. Some climbers want their guide to be intimately familiar with the route and peak(s), but Kevin was fine with the fact that it would be an onsight for me. On a route of this nature that could mean backtracking or doing more or harder climbing. We had, I think, built some trust on our previous two trips, and I think he was looking forward to something with a few more unknowns than usual. Without the unknown, after all, there is no adventure. 

A climb of this nature also required that I put some serious trust in Kevin. Though I brought guide skills, climbing experience (and alpine ridge experience in particular) to the table, this climb would need to be a real partnership to manage the risks posed by loose rock and unknown terrain.  Kevin is an experienced trad climber, and has done a ton of 4th and low-5th class around the country. This somewhat rare pairing of skills was combined with some serious interest in this route. Kevin's research meant that not only did he get local beta for an approach that cut our hiking distance almost in half, but he also went in with eyes wide open about the loose rock, something that I think is necessary for success on the Kaweah Traverse. Though there were a number of surprises along the way, low quality rock was never one of them. 

Looking north from Red Kaweah with Black Kaweah, Pyramidal Pinnacle, and Koontz Pinnacle in view.

There is minimal information available about the route. In the interest of adding to that I include slightly more beta than I might normally, but please understand that in endeavors like this a sense of urgency is necessary and quality note taking often fell by the wayside.

We left Mineral King a little after 9am. Kevin's route to the Big Arroyo, our basecamp, wound over Glacier and Hands and Knees Passes and through the Little Five Lakes Basin following trails, abandoned trails, and our noses. Towards the end of the day we shed our shoes for several creek crossings, some of them more than knee deep, fast, and cold. Near the old Big Arroyo ranger cabin we ran into a backcountry ranger who warned us that the Kaweahs had a lot of loose rock and that it could be snowy up there. We spent the night comfortably under my tarp.

The next morning there was no alarm. I thought we'd be working hard each day on the route and wanted to leave our basecamp well rested from the hike in. After a leisurely breakfast we started hiking northeast uphill through open woods and granite slabs. eventually we reached the treeline. That ranger was right, there was a lot of snow, and we were happy for it. The last mile or so of our approach to Black Kaweah would have been endless talus was it not covered in supportive snow. 

We took the Southwest Face route to the summit. It was fairly straightforward and soon we were on top snacking and snapping photos of the peaks laid out ahead of us. From the summit we descended directly east on technical terrain and got onto the east ridge via a convenient ledge. Looking back later that day, we saw that we could have accessed that ledge much more easily by backtracking a bit. The east ridge was exposed, loose, 4th to low 5th class...and surprisingly fun. Our only snafu came on the one rappel we made but that was quickly fixed and soon we were hiking up the northwest slopes of Pyramidal Pinnacle looking for a place to spend the night. There were a number of snow patches and many semi-flat sites, but for some reason I wanted to keep hiking. Before too long I saw it, a cave! With a shout I ran over to it, expecting the floor to be filled with sharp rocks or guano or both. Instead it was almost-completely-level sand and small gravel, a comfortable size for two grown men. A few moments of work from Kevin, the high-end custom carpenter, and it was perfect. Just a few steps away was a snowfield melting into liquid in the late afternoon sun. Excellent views back up the east ridge of Black Kaweah were the icing on the cake that is my new favorite bivy spot.

Soaking up the view from my new favorite bivy spot.

The following day we left the magnificent cave a little after 7am. We scrambled up to the summit of Pyramidal Pinnacle with ease, and soon found ourselves downclimbing exposed 4th and low 5th class. We could have gone back down the way we came and wrapped around to the other side of the Pinnacle on easier terrain, but we wanted to keep our traverse as true as we could, riding the skyline. A short rappel completed our descent to the notch with Koontz Pinnacle.

Some unnecessary but fun 5th class climbing brought us to the top of Koontz Pinnacle, which has a classic Sierra summit block. In his guidebook Peaks, Passes, and Trails RJ Secor mentions that Koontz Pinnacle is not shown on the USGS Triple Divide Peak 7.5 minute map. It seemed to us, after sitting up there with the gps on my phone, that in fact its Pyramidal Pinnacle that's not shown on the quad. 

Me on top of Koontz Pinnacle. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

Traveling along the ridge from Koontz was fun but became involved, eventually necessitating a 40m rappel. This was followed by a hike up Red Kaweah, one of the easier peaks on the traverse. There was some kind of butterfly migration happening and hundreds of orange and black butterflies led us along the ridge and up to the summit. Getting off the other side was more complicated, we made one rappel that I can recall.

Climbing up the north side of Michael's Pinnacle was forgettable, but the summit register was not. Placed by Jim Koontz himself in 1953, it had a transcription from Charles Michael's original register and had been signed by a who's who of Kaweah climbers, including the only other parties we knew of who did the traverse. It's a piece of Sierra history. I'm not normally particularly excited to sign summit registers, but I was honored to sign this one. That is, until we discovered the pen didn't work. Kicking ourselves for not bringing a pen, we continued south in the dwindling daylight, eventually dropping off the crest a bit to a bivy overlooking Kaweah Basin. 

The Michael's Pinnacle summit register. It could use a new pen and container.

Looking east towards Williamson and Whitney from our second bivy. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

In the morning the towers seemed to go on and on and included two 20m rappels, but eventually we found ourselves in front of Squaretop. We traversed onto the west side over at least one rib to get to the Northwest Face route which brought us quickly to the summit. 

A time consuming gully took us down to the col before Bilko Pinnacle. Here fun 4th class on a rib over to the west side of the col brought us to the summit and our first good views of Grey (aka Second, aka False) Kaweah. 

Kevin sailing the seas of choss somewhere on the ridge.

Tales of a spat between the first ascensionists and 5.9 climbing had us wondering if one of the towers before us would contain the crux. Instead we found (on I believe the second tower) enjoyable 5.7 climbing on some of the best rock on the ridge. Before long we were fist bumping on top. I know I felt like we were getting away with something. 

We still had a lot of daylight left, and both of us felt like it would make a lot of sense to include Mount Kaweah, the tallest of the Kaweah peaks. It was only a matter of some class 2 hiking, so we signed that summit register too. Our big winter had left snow still parked on the west face of the peak, and a 1500 foot standing glissade sped our descent and put smiles on our faces.

While Kevin and I both enjoyed this traverse neither of us feel a need to do it again. Climbers who are dying to send this one would be well-advised to do some of the other big (and higher quality) traverses first. Though this one isn't as long as the full Palisade or Evolution Traverses, the decision making and risk management is probably harder. Couple this with the low level but continuous loose rock and the Kaweah Traverse is likely as difficult as those longer ones. As Kevin put it, “this one is for the Sierra ridge 'choss-isseur'”.

Somewhere in the Kaweahs. Photo by Kevin Burkhart.

The Minaret Traverse

Scott Sinner and I did The Minaret Traverse a couple of weeks ago. We climbed all of the named Minarets in a day, which added up to 20 peaks. I don't think anyone had done exactly this before and though it's a rather arbitrary guideline, all of the rules in climbing are arbitrary. Why climb the Dawn Wall when you can walk up the back side of El Capitan on a trail? It was really fun, particularly the northern half. The rock quality was good when it needed to be and occasionally great.

Scott somewhere in The Minarets.

I'm not 100% sure why I like this kind of thing, but I know that I really really like it. When I started climbing I remember stumbling across an article by Matt Samet in Climbing Magazine about alpine traverses. In the article he climbs The Cirque Traverse (in The Wind River Range), The Grand Traverse (in the Tetons), and The Evolution Traverse (for what might have been it's first onsight) in a long road trip. He may have done another, I can't remember and lost the magazine a long time ago. 

Something in that article was the spark, though it was a while before I had the chops to really turn it into a fire. Obvious natural lines have always drawn my interest (Indian Creek is one of my favorite crags) and I like alpine climbing. Long ridges are the most obvious and aesthetic lines in the mountains and if that ridge takes me across multiple peaks, so much the better. As Josh Wharton said, "What could be better than climbing? More climbing."

After climbing all over the country I was drawn to The Sierra in no small part because of it's ridges. I believe it was Viren Perumal who suggested using Peter Croft's The Good, The Great, And The Awesome as a tick list. What do you know, there are a lot if ridge climbs in there, including four big traverses. One of them draws the eye insatiably every time I'm driving home on the 395. I usually find myself going well under the speed limit on the straightaway past the Mammoth Airport. 

For these reasons and more a few Sundays ago I woke up at three in the morning at a small bivy just east of The Gap, a pass just before the northernmost Minaret. It had been smoky lately (from The Rough Fire) and there was a slight chance of thunderstorms in the forecast. I popped in one earbud from my iPod, so I could get psyched but still converse with Scott, and fired up the stove. I was feeling some nervous anticipation. I wasn't scared about the climbing, but I was excited to finally get my hands on this ridge and I really wanted to send. We got our gear sorted out, Scott turned on his wicked bright alpine-start-routefinding headlamp (essentially the sun in a bottle strapped to his head), and off we went. 

There's not a lot of beta about this traverse. The guidebook write ups vary from inspiring to cryptic but none are particularly useful. I found trip reports online (here, here, here, and here) (oh yeah, and here) but none of those climbers did what I wanted to do: climb all of the peaks named "Minaret" in a day. Somewhere on the third page of search results I came across a Supertopo forum post from a few years ago. Scott Sinner was looking for a partner for this traverse. Most of the folks posting to the thread did not want to climb with Scott and seemed only interested in nay-saying. I barely knew Scott, but he was the only other person I had met who had expressed any interest. I sent him a message to find out if he still was and he replied quickly and in the affirmative. 

We met for beers to talk strategy and logistics. I wanted to get the earliest start we could without compromising a good night's sleep. My frequent partner Aaron Richards pointed out that if you're going to climb in the dark no matter what you might as well do it first, when you're fresh. Scott had the brilliant idea of going north to south, so as to front-load the more technical climbing. I had learned from experience that it's best to, whenever possible, shift walking to the end of the day. So we camped at The Gap and started real early.

In the interest of encouraging more people to climb this thing I included more notes about our particular route than I usually do. Please understand that in endeavors like this a sense of urgency is necessary and quality note taking often fell by the wayside. For clarity I capitalize an aspect (Southeast for example) when it's in the official name of an established route that I'm sure we climbed. This happened rarely. 

From The Gap we slogged uphill and north over talus and scree on the west side of Waller Minaret until we could turn east and scramble up 4th class to the summit. We retraced our steps to The Gap and then headed up the West Ridge of Leonard, a fun 4th and low 5th class scramble on mostly good rock. Folks call this the West Ridge, but since it comes directly from The Gap "Northwest Ridge" might be more accurate. Climbing down to the notch between Leonard and Turner Minarets was not memorable, but the excellent 5.7 climbing out of that notch was. We went slightly downhill to the west and then followed a crack system on good rock for a while passing an old piton in the process. 

A cool polished ramp on the west side of Turner (or was it Jensen?) Minaret.

Somewhere above this we walked up a cool polished ramp on the east side of the peak then climbed a really fun low 5th class corner with a finger and hand crack in the back. However, one or both of these climbing items could have come on the way up Jensen Minaret, as I can't particularly recall how we got to it's summit from Turner Minaret. I definitely recall how we got off of Jensen though. This was the first time we got out the rope. We probably could have down-climbed all of this terrain, but I think rapping was ultimately faster. We made one rappel from near the summit to a ledgy area. From here we climbed down and skier's left, on unlikely looking terrain, closer to the ridge crest. Then we made two more rappels, interspersed with some scrambling. The last rap put us in the chute on the west side of North Notch. Scrambling up North Notch Minaret was fairly easy, but I think we might have rapped off the top because there was a really good station already there.

A fun corner of Jensen (or was it Turner?) Minaret.

Next came Dyer Minaret, which Scott and I both thought was some of the best climbing on the whole thing. From Highway 395 near the Mammoth Airport you can pick out the little finger of Dyer sitting above North Notch. The northwest ridge is steep and exposed 5.6 - 7 on really good rock. The small summit of Dyer featured a rap station with a fixed pin and stopper equalized with a horn. One 30m rappel (watch the ends of your rope!) down the northeast face got us down to easier terrain. There's a good bivy for two on this side of the peak, from above it looked like a little nest jutting out into space. We climbed over the west shoulder of Dyer and down to the notch between it and Dawson Minaret.

Scott on Dawson Minaret. Jensen Minaret looms behind.

On Dawson we followed low 5th class ramps up and around the west side of the peak to the notch between it and Bedayan Minaret. Then we turned north and climbed up making moves up to about 5.7. Once again we were happy to take advantage of a not-bad in situ rap station. We climbed Bedayan by it's northeast face, which was mostly 4th class. This was notable because it was the only time we climbed a peak in the northern half of the traverse on it's east (our left) side.

I don't remember much about how we got up Rice Minaret, but my notes say "west-northwest ridge". I do remember making a shortish rap from a bomber natural feature down a cool looking tight corner/chimney. Getting onto the summit ridge of Eichhorn Minaret was walking. It was literally class 2/3. At one point I wished aloud for trekking poles.

Scott pulling onto Eichorn's summit ridge. Clyde Minaret is on the right.

There are several big towers between Eichorn and Michael Minarets. We traveled around these towers on the west, passing the big plaque memorializing Pete Starr, and dropping into and then climbing out of the tight gullies that separate them to reach the Portal. We passed through the Portal and climbed the face above and left of it. The rock was impeccable and the climbing was never harder than 5.6, which was good because the face was quite steep. I don't think we took the path of least resistance but it was fun. As we topped out it started to drizzle briefly. Three rappels got us down.

Crossing back over Eichorn we dipped into a bowl on the southwest side of the summit ridge to avoid it's sharpest parts. A little bit of exposed 5th class downclimbing got us onto the northwest ridge of Clyde Minaret and from there to it's summit. From here we followed Croft's path in reverse. Down to Amphitheater Lake for a welcome drink of water, up to Amphitheater Col and over the first bump of Adams Minaret to it's true summit, which involved some 4th class scrambling. Somewhere in there we waited 30 minutes for a thunderstorm we couldn't see (because of the smoke) but that sounded really quite loud and close.

We found this cool little piece of obsidian on our way up to Amphitheater Col. It looked like some kind of arrowhead or man-made tool to us. Anybody out there have any ideas/expertise in this sort of stuff?

Back down to the lake and up the Southwest Face of Ken Minaret to it's summit, where we made a few 5th class moves near the top. We retraced our steps back down and hopped talus over to South Notch Minaret. This little tower had what might have been the hardest climbing of the whole route, we weren't surprised everyone skips it.  We climbed it by the northwest face, which had consistent class 5 climbing on good rock up to maybe 5.8 or so, and descended with two short raps.

Now a bunch of talus walking led to Starr Minaret. We cached the climbing gear somewhere on the way and climbed Starr as the light faded. Our route to the summit was not the easiest way up and the descent even less so, but eventually we found our way back to the gear and hiked up Kehrlein Minaret. I had been on Kehrlein before, on a previous attempt traveling the other direction with my friend Dale Apgar. It's east ridge is the most complicated terrain feature connecting two minarets that we would travel on. I felt confident that we wouldn't get lost and would take a generally efficient route. Little did I know that our time getting from Kehrlein to Pridham Minaret would be well over 4 times the average time it took us to get between all the other summits. Though morale was still high and we were both still functioning well mentally the 17 summits before this one were making themselves felt. We moved more slowly in the dark, and made five rappels as we ground our way east. I don't know if I speak for Scott on this but I hope to never climb Kehrlein Minaret again. 

From the top of Pridham we could see Reigelhuth looming in the dark when we turned our headlamps off. Robotically we hiked over to it and climbed steep low 5th class terrain on the south side of it's west end. We stumbled, down-climbed, and butt slid down some loose gully and picked up a path that took us to the trail by the outlet of Minaret Lake. 

Success! As is common for me on these things, I was just glad to be done and figured I'd probably feel good about it later. I was more excited about the supplies we had cached by the outlet on our way in. We snacked (Fritos!), changed headlamp batteries, and psyched ourselves up for the death march back to The Gap.

This area is worthy of more climber traffic. The northern Minarets in particular (from The Gap to Clyde Minaret) were fun and engaging and certainly not the nightmare of loose rock and routefinding that they're often made out to be. Most of the skepticism I've heard about the Minarets has been from folks who have done minimal actual climbing there. If The North Ridge Of Conness or The Incredible Hulk is your standard for alpine rock quality, be prepared to be disappointed in The Minarets and in every other mountain range in the lower 48. Come to the Minarets understanding that these are mountains and that mountains (especially those that aren't overrun by other climbers) often contain some loose rock and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the climbing. If you are interested in this traverse (or part of it) and want more beta feel free to get in touch.

Alpine Journal Write Up

The American Alpine Journal published a short write-up I put together about our first winter ascent of The Complete Palisade Traverse this winter. If you're an Alpine Club member you get the journal for free. To purchase the journal in a physical or digital copy click here. More information about our climb can be found on Jed's blog here and here. Thanks go to Sterling Rope for the perfect cord for the route. The of the text of the Journal submission is below.

Jediah Porter and I were only acquaintances when, by complete accident, we crossed paths on the Evolution Traverse in August of 2011. We made plans to climb the Evolution Traverse during the winter of 2012. But our climb was foiled by an optimistic disregard for the weather forecast. The successful first winter ascent of that route followed only a few days later by three climbers from the Pullharder collective. Inspired by their accomplishment, we decided that if we failed at our first objective we should probably pick something harder.

We left the Big Pine Creek trailhead at 6 a.m. on February 26 with 30lb packs hoping to send the complete Palisade Traverse in five days. In summer, car-to-car is currently the most stylish way to climb alpine routes here in the Sierra. In that spirit, we decided to forgo a basecamp and begin the route as soon as we arrived there. A seven-mile, 5000’ hike put us at Southfork Pass, the start of the climbing. The next eight miles included 5.9 rock, steep snow and low angle ice without crampons, and loads of classic climbing with incredible exposure. The ridge includes six 14,000’ peaks, many 13,000’ peaks, and scads of shorter peaks and towers.

Though the climbing on the Palisade Crest (a mile-long concentration of twelve peaks in the southern half of the traverse) was not particularly difficult, our pace was the slowest through that section. We bivied four times: on the summit of Middle Palisade, the base of Mount Williams (immediately south of the Palisade Crest), Scimitar Pass, and halfway down the northwest ridge of Thunderbolt Peak. We returned to my truck on the evening of March 2, four days and 16-hours after leaving. 

The main challenges were moving efficiently over the terrain and staying as fit and healthy as possible. Generally, the less the rope is used, the faster a team will travel. Free-soloing the whole route in boots, while possible, was more risk than we wanted to take on. We used the rope sparingly but strategically, and found that some sections were dispatched more quickly with the mental comfort of a belay. We brought a small tent to ensure a good night’s sleep, took a brief water and food break every hour, left our bivouacs in the morning with 1-1.5L of water, and we took a real lunch break daily to melt more water. This allowed our stove to function more efficiently in the warmth of mid-day and gave us time to dry out our boots and sleeping bags in the sun and wind.

Big ridge traverses are a unique feature of the High Sierra. California is full of strong and talented climbers, but few venture into the mountains under anything but the most ideal of conditions. Climbers from other areas don’t see the range for anything but its world class front-country rock climbing. The complete Palisade Traverse (VI 5.9) is probably the longest technical route in the lower-48 and yet has seen fewer than ten complete ascents since the first ascent in 1979. Until the locals start heading for the hills or alpinists from other areas notice the pearls before them, we few will continue to have this amazing alpine playground to ourselves.

The Palisade Traverse

I wrote this trip report for the AAI Climbing blog, where it was originally published.


In 1931 Robert Underhill, one of the best climbers in the country, was invited to California to teach Sierra Club members proper rope and belay techniques. Afterwards he and the top students toured the range, making many first ascents. This group of heavy hitters included Norman Clyde, Jules Eichorn, and Glen Dawson.

They spent 6 days in The Palisades that August, the most rugged and inspiring region in the Sierra Nevada. Amongst their climbs was the first ascent of Thunderbolt Peak, the last California 14er to be climbed. The climbers were surprised on the summit by a thunderstorm and, with lightning striking all around, barely escaped.

This story came to mind frequently during the last days of June and early July. The Sierra was experiencing record high temperatures and violent thunderstorms were happening every afternoon. Jim and Bob signed up for a Palisade Traverse trip starting July 4 and fortunately this spell of thunderstorms was showing signs of abating that day.

The three of us set out from The Big Pine Creek Trailhead. Conversation carried us up the trail to Sam Mack Meadow, and a few miles beyond to Fischer Camp. The afternoon was cloudy and we heard thunder from time-to-time, but our objective stayed out of the clouds. The High Sierra is filled with fantastic ridges and the classic Palisade Traverse, from Thunderbolt Peak to Mount Sill, is arguably the best. Climber and guidebook author Peter Croft says, "This magical mystery tour of five 14,000 foot peaks has got to be one of the very best and most popular traverses in the United States of America".

Creek Crossing in Sam Mack Meadow.

On the second day of our trip we woke early, left our camp behind, and headed out across the Thunderbolt Glacier to the Northeast Couloir of Thunderbolt Peak. An unexpected but really fun pitch of alpine ice got us across the bergschrund and snow slogging took us to the ridge just north of the summit. The day was far from stormy, and we were making good time. The summit of Thunderbolt Peak is tiny, and the moves to gain it probably the crux of the route. After taking turns on top we descended to the south and took a lunch break in a sheltered spot, watching another party climb the peak.

Next we climbed Starlight Peak and its summit block, The Milk Bottle, named for its appearance. Beyond Starlight we passed an unnamed gendarme, moved through some exposed sections, and climbed to the top of North Palisade, one of the more commodious summits on the route. We were stoked, three 14ers in one day! A short rappel off the summit block left us at one of the best bivouacs in the range. After a hot meal and some chit-chat about the fun we'd had that day we were off to a well-earned night's sleep.

Sleeping over 14,000 feet on the second night of a trip is never notably restful, but we all managed to get some sleep. After being warmed by the sun and stimulated by hot coffee (thanks guys) we resumed our southward course on the ridge with two rappels into the U-Notch Couloir. Crossing this, we climbed up the other side and quickly found ourselves on top of Polemonium Peak. The summit register has been missing for several years, but we made do with photos.

Documenting the summit on Polemonium Peak.

Bob, Jim, and I descending Polemonium. Starlight Peak is in the foreground, we're the three specks on the bump in the distance. Jed Porter photo.

Some fun and exposed climbing put us onto the slope between Polemonium and Mount Sill. This is the easiest stretch of the whole traverse - merely rough hiking - and we were happy to unrope for a while. Arriving at Sill we ditched our packs and scrambled to the summit. Five 14'ers in two days!

We descended the quickly melting L-Shaped snowfield to Glacier Notch and from there to the Palisade Glacier. We crossed this, with a quick stop to drink fresh glacial melt, and were soon at our camp, a little tired but happy and successful.

Click here for more information on the Underhill Camp trip to the Palisades (including photos).