My climbing partner, Gil (aka Mountainroad) and I attempted the Palisade Traverse this past weekend which began with a 5.5-mile approach-hike from South Lake trailhead (9,755 feet elevation) on Friday morning. The trail was well-maintained and we acclimated by sleeping in the parking lot the night before, allowing us to hold a quick pace from the start. It began to snow when we reached Long Lake and continued to snow for the remainder of the hike until we reached Bishop Pass (11,960 feet). We knew snow was in the forecast, but didn’t realize it would start so early in the day. The snow let up while establishing base camp (12,200 feet) just below the chute to Thunderbolt Peak, which we planned to ascend at 4:30 a.m. the next morning.



While replenishing our water supply in an alpine lake, the sky became a darker gray and the snow began to fall again, but this time at a heavier rate with steady accumulation. As soon as the sun set, the temperature dropped to the high-20s, giving me the opportunity to fully appreciate the warmth of my brand-new zero-degree down sleeping bag (Thanks, Mom and Dad!).



By morning, a fresh foot of powder blanketed everything in sight, including the chute to Thunderbolt peak, the first on our list of peaks for the Palisade Traverse. It was obvious at this point that we were snowed-out because the route would be too dangerous to negotiate.



Immediately, our focus shifted to staying warm, so we quickly broke-down our camp and packed our bags for the descent. The sun had yet to crest the ridge and it was still frigid. The hike back to the car was gorgeous. We were in a winter wonderland and were motivated by the thoughts of a hearty breakfast at Jack’s Restaurant in Bishop.

After our meal, we headed across the street and rented a bouldering crash pad from Wilson's Eastside Sports for $10 to use at The Buttermilks, a world-class rock climbing area. A crash pad breaks a climber’s fall when climbing without a rope no more than 20-feet in height. It’s the duty of the spotter to redirect the trajectory of a falling climber, so they land on the crash pad and not the ground.



Gil and I climbed in the warmth of the sun at The Buttermilks for the rest of the day. When the sun dropped behind the front range of the Sierra Nevada we set up camp nearby. I’ve crafted an Active Video from my weekend adventure using pictures, video clips and music composed by my manager, Rob Costlow. Enjoy!

In my last few entries, I’ve alluded to an upcoming mountaineering expedition called the Palisade Traverse, where I will attempt to reach the summit of five 14,000-foot peaks in one day.

The Palisades are located in the heart of the Sierra Nevada and include seven mountains that top 14,000 feet. Home to half of the “fourteeners” in California, the Palisades are a mountaineering paradise, and for me and my climbing partner, our very own playground because of its easy access to home base in San Diego.


Thunderbolt Peak (14,003), Starlight Peak (14,200), North Palisade (14,242), Polemonium Peak (14,080), Mount Sill (14, 153).

Rapid elevation gain, a strenuous approach to and from the base of the climb, and approximately 18 hours of constant negotiation of Alpine terrain will make this journey less a test of technical rock climbing skill and more a test of mental and physical toughness from sustained exposure to the elements.

I’d like to take a moment to thank you all for your feedback. Please continue to post comments, whether they are suggestions, questions or words of encouragement, as I am committed to enhancing Active Toby’s Adventure Blog and inspiring you to embark upon a journey of your own.

P.S. I will be equipped with a helmet cam during this next adventure to compile footage for my next Active Video installation. Special thanks to Dave A. and Marc V.

I woke at 3:30 a.m. to the beat of my heart working hard to counterbalance the altitude. I had been at sea level in San Diego less than a day ago and had just spent a restless night camped at 12,000 feet. My watch alarm was set to go off at 4 a.m., making me solely responsible for waking my three companions for our big day.

Our two-hour approach to get to the base of Mount Russell, the eighth-highest mountain in California, consisted of a 1,000-foot elevation gain that traversed a massive boulder-covered ridge. We marched through the darkness guided by the dim glow of our headlamps which we turned off when the sun’s rays finally crested the ridge and began to warm the bitter cold rock face.

Gil and I got organized and roped up while Jake and Albert started climbing the first pitch at 8:30 a.m. Albert and Jake went first because they would be moving faster while alternating who was on lead and who was following. The lead climber carefully places spring-loaded camming devices in the rock. When a spring-loaded trigger wire is pulled, it retracts to make the device narrower. This allows the climber to slide the unit inside a crack. When the trigger is released, the cams expand to fit the rock and then the rope is clipped into the device to prevent the climber from falling. Once the leader makes it to the top of the pitch, an anchor is set for the follower to begin removing the camming devices while climbing to where the leader is stationed.

Gil’s level of experience with leading routes far surpassed my limited knowledge, so it was quite simple: He would lead all seven pitches of the climb and I would follow. This was the most efficient means for our 1,000-foot rock climb to the 14,088-foot summit of Mount Russell.

We estimated the climb itself would take eight hours, providing ample time to think over each move and be as careful as possible. Gil was strong on lead all day as he negotiated each move and placement of gear in the rock.

We powered our way up each pitch, and remained calm and focused even when the freezing-cold hail storm closed in on us while fully exposed on pitch five. The winds and hail pinned us against the mountainside for an hour until the storm continued north through the Sierra Nevada.

This pitch was rated the hardest pitch of the day by the guide book. The fact that my hands were wet and numb made it a formidable challenge. I literally had to wipe the hail off of the rock in search of hand holds while climbing with a 20-pound backpack.

The panoramic view from the summit was impressive. Getting to the top was incredible but by no means the most challenging aspect of our day. It was five o’clock in the afternoon and we still had a 2,000-foot descent to our base camp through the massive boulder field. By the time we packed up base camp and began the 3,500-foot descent of Mount Whitney’s mountaineer’s route, it was 8:30 p.m. This was the most difficult part of our day—each lugging 45 pounds on our backs down what at the time seemed like an endless staircase of switchbacks into the darkness below. Arriving at the car by 11:30 p.m. was a great relief to the group as we all were showing signs of extreme exhaustion.

After nourishment from a local late-night diner, we began the final leg of our journey: a four-hour drive back to San Diego during which my watch alarm sounded for the second time that day. We all took turns driving to battle the severe onset of exhaustion and arrived home safely after our 26-hour day.

This was the first installment in my journey to climb all 15 peaks in California over 14,000 feet. Please watch my ActiveVideo and be sure to join me on my next journey. Active Toby