Hello and Happy New Year and thank you to all those who are taking the time to read this first entry of 2020.  It is my hope you are blessed with the warmth, love and radiant light of our universe for this year and all those to come.  I'd like to start this new year and decade off by taking you all on a journey up 9,320 foot Ralston Peak.  I hope you enjoy the climb and I hope it inspires you to go out and enjoy nature wherever you call home.  

I'm lying in bed early on Friday morning.  The air outside is showing 35 degrees, but the wind is calm.  My backpack, water and snowshoes are already in the car eagerly awaiting me to push in the key and get on the road.  I look at the clock and it reads 5:45 A.M.  The alarm will sound in 15 minutes.  My head begins the typical wanderings of self-doubt and guilt about stealing away for a day in the Sierra Nevada.  I remind my inner voice that this was the reason I left my last job in Sacramento; to be able to roll out of bed, grab my hiking and mountain climbing gear, grab my climbing buddy and head up the hill to the mountains.  A tinge of fear arises in me as my feet hit the floor full knowing that today's ascent will cover nearly 3,000 vertical feet over 4 miles.  

I begin the usual routine of pulling on an insulated base layer pant, followed my well-worn and well-traveled Prana hiking pants.  Buckling the strap on them, I do a simple squat to assess how my legs are feeling. "Good.  Everything feels good today, Mike.  No mind fucking yourself today.  It's going to be an epic day of climbing and the weather looks perfect for winter hiking."  I grab my "Iron Lion" shirt, smile and pull it over my head.  It's a totem of sorts for me.  I've worn this same shirt on every peak I've climbed since 2013.  I sometimes feel like it is armor of sorts and that when I pull it onto my shoulders, I am protected from the veil and blackness of the depression I fight routinely.  Next comes a light hoodie, followed by my silk liners on my feet and then heavy Merino wool socks to cover the liners.  I'll pull on my down jacket when we arrive at the trailhead.  I grab a few candy bars from the pantry and head out into the garage.  As the garage door lifts, I walk out into the new morning and am greeted by a cool, but pleasant temperature.  I turn my eyes east to try and see if the air is clear enough to see Ralston Peak.  I can't.  It's a bit hazy today, but I am hoping that will change as I get into the Sierra Nevada.  

A final check of gear finds everything accounted for.  Water filter, crampons, ice axe, snowshoes, first aid, snacks, gaiters, rope and carabiners.  I close the trunk and sit down on the cold cement floor to lace up my boots.  It feels so good to pull my size 12 Keens tight around my ankles.  My heart swells as I know today will be full of adventure and mountain therapy.  The ignition turns over, my Subaru Forester backs into the street and heads down a few blocks to pick up my climbing buddy, hiking partner and all around great friend, Jesse.  We exchange a quick fist bump, he tosses his backpack into the trunk, his extra layers into the backseat and off we go.  We follow our typical routine of stopping at the last gas station before the freeway for snacks, energy drinks and gas.  Jesse and I have a celebratory snack on peaks we climb of Peanut M & M's and today is no different.  Two bags of Peanut M & M's are in his hands along with coffee energy drinks.  I grab a few extra candy bars to eventually put into my stomach to join the two bananas that are already there.  

As the miles melted away and the car climbed its way up into the mountains, we chatted about the trail and what the conditions were likely going to be.  The first sign of snow showed itself when the altimeter on my watch hit 5,350 feet.  We were about 25 minutes away from our trailhead located just past the town of Twin Bridges, California.  Conversation ebbed and faded as we both began our internal preparation for a winter ascent of a peak neither of us has climbed before.  We understood the route would be steep in some sections, but we didn't know exactly how steep it would be until our progress was taking 10 steps and resting for 30 seconds.  

After several U-turns in the middle of US Highway 50, we settled on a small area to park next to the snowed in gate of Camp Sacramento.  Normally a place full of cars in the summer who are coming and going to enjoy the forested bliss which surrounds this entire area.  Now, the area is a quiet and serene place of snow and ice far from the business which summer temperatures bring.  Opening the door to the warmth within the car, we are greeted with temperatures in the 20's.  I hurry to the tailgate to grab my down hiking coat and quickly pull it and the fleece beanie, on.  I take a long look at the trailhead just across the road and smile because unlike the Pyramid Peak trailhead (which is only a mere 2 miles west of us on the same road), this one doesn't go straight up.  I proceed to the normal pre-hike tasks of filling the water reservoir in my pack, strapping on my gaiters, adjusting my trekking poles and ensuring my snowshoes, crampons, ice axe and all the other gear is where it needs to be.

The tailgate closes, Jesse and I nod at each other and across the road we go.  The trail is covered in winters blanket and our boots begin to find their way up the snowy trail.  About 150 meters in on the trail, a small forest service cabin is to the right and as we search for the true trailhead, we see it another 50 meters up on our left.  We agree this is the time to put on our snowshoes.

The cold air gently fills my lungs and makes me smile as I fasten the rubber straps around my boots.  “This is heaven.  I needed this.” I think to myself as I stand up and look around at the snowy landscape.  I look over at Jesse, nod and we begin our trek up the mountain.  We pass the trail head marker, take a quick glance and continue on.  The climbing is gradual for the first mile and a half.  The trail winds through cedars and pines and we inhale the wonderful smell of the forest.  We chat about how good it feels to be here and how we don’t do this as much as we’d like.  We joke about creating our own Sierra Nevada Guiding Service where our days would be about taking other nature lovers hiking, backpacking and climbing into a place dear to us.  We grow silent as we ponder the possibility of making this happen. 

As we pass the mile and a half point, we are greeted with a steep incline up the side of the mountain to where we will climb until reaching a short saddle.  Our snowshoes teeth bite into the icy slope beneath a glazing of powder.  Our lungs and legs strain as we progress up the mountain.  We pass the 7,500-foot mark and gaze to the east as views of the Sierra Nevada’s triumvirate of Freel Peak, Jobs Peak and Jobs Sister come into view over the Sierra-at-Tahoe Ski Resort.  We let our cameras capture the moment and give our legs a short respite from the climb.  A sip of water and we are off again.  Gaining altitude with every step.  We reach a short saddle and take a moment once again to admire the sweeping views.  We look ahead and see a 50-degree slope staring at us.  We discuss the need to put our crampons on as this slope will be much steeper than anything we have encountered yet today.  We decide to give it a try with our snowshoes on. 

Our progress grinds to a snail’s pace.  A few steps and stop.  A few more steps and stop.  Our legs burn and our lungs heave.  We laugh a little and I ask Jesse if he is ready for the Lhotse face yet.  Jesse humors me with my obsession with all things Everest and Himalaya and it is my secret hope to one-day, drag him over to climb one of the 6,000+ meter (20,000 feet) peaks.  We continue our slow trudge up the slope having no view of our final destination.  I look at the altimeter on my watch which reads 8,300 feet.  1,000 feet left to climb.  We stop for a quick break before continuing.  I force myself to eat a King-Size Milky Way bar.  The chewy caramel and chocolate may as well be Elmer’s Glue.  I eat it as quickly as I can to be done with it.  I’ve never been one to eat on hikes, but I know I have to force calories into my body to keep it moving upwards and eventually, back down the mountain.  After the candy bar cannonballs into my gut, I stand up, toss my pack back onto my back and begin to press onward and upward once again. 

Jesse begins to put a little distance between us as he is moving faster than me.  I adopt a new mentality to climb my counting 30 steps before I allow myself to catch my breath.  The constant counting of paces gives my mind something to do as my legs burn with the incline of this mountain.  I take the time to truly enjoy the peace and solace we are experiencing here.  We have seen not a single other hiker today and have been on the trail for nearly 4.5 hours.  These are hikes I love more than any other.

As we begin to climb out of the tree-line, I am humored my Jesse’s drawings of various anatomical parts in the snow.  “God I love this guy” I think to myself as I struggle to catch my breath after 30 steps.  I can feel the strain in my legs growing and the darkness of self-doubt begin to creep into my head.  I can see what appears to be the summit about 300 vertical feet above.  There is a small clump of ancient trees and a hidden ridgeline in back of them.  I continue to push out my 30 step and rest pace.  Inching ever closer to the summit and towards Jesse, I try and push my pace to 50 steps.  I find my maximum at 45 and am okay with that.  I need to have the gas to descend after we hit the top. 

As we near the clump of weather worn trees, Jesse laughs and says, “Bro, the summit is over there.  We have a false summit here…”  I turn my head to the left and see another 100 vertical feet left to climb.  I am gassed.  My legs are screaming for relief from the heavy snowshoes that seem to attract heavy snow like a magnet pulling paper clips in an office drawer.  I look at Jesse and let him know I’m not sure if I have anything left in my tank.  He smiles that sly smile and says, “Yeah.  You got it in you.  Now let’s move our asses before we freeze.”

I find the strength once again and push hard to traverse the ridgeline that separates us from the Desolation Wilderness area of Lower Echo Lake, Upper Echo Lake, Tamarack Lake, Lake-of-the-Woods and Lake Aloha.  Step.  Step.  Step.  The teeth on my snowshoes find their way onto the granite of the summit and I stop to take in the never-ending view.  It is breathtaking.  A gaze around the area gives us views of the snow covered Crystal Range of peaks including Pyramid Peak, Mount Price Mount Agassiz and several other unnamed 9,000 foot mountains.  We give each other a hug and just allow the majesty of this view to sink in.  We don’t have to speak in these moments.  The views do all the talking.  As always, I close my eyes and give thanks to the spirits and guardians of the mountain for allowing us safe passage to the summit.  I open up the steel ammo box and retrieve the summit register.  There was one climber here yesterday and only a few over the past few weeks.  I inscribe my thoughts and close the book.  I add my standard memento to the box and close and secure the lid. 

We take in the views for a few more minutes as we approach our pre-established turnaround time of 2 pm.  We only spend a short 15 minutes on the summit as the temperature is hovering around 0 and our feet and hands are very cold.  We snap a few more photographs to document our climb and successful summit and begin our climb back down.  The steep slope allows us quick passage and plenty of laughs as we slip, slide and crash into deep snow drifts.  An hour and a half later, we arrive back at the car; tired and ready for a beer.  I look at the windshield and see a “welcome back” gift from the California Highway Patrol.  A parking ticket in the amount of $32.  I smile and nod that this ticket was well worth the price of admission. 

I hope that all who have read this far enjoyed our trip up Ralston Peak and the good energy and positive vibrations it brought to our souls.  I hope this New Year is full of positive energy and good vibrations for you all.  May you find and enjoy what fuels your heart, mind and soul.  This year will be full of blogs about the upcoming treks, summits and hiking trips I have planned.  Cheers and best wishes to a new year and decade!

Namaste, friends.

"Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures, kill nothing but time..."