Since moving to Tahoe, Galina and I have been thinking of one big objective- the “Desolation Death March” or “Desolation Seven Summits Loop”, a linkup of seven big peaks in the Desolation Wilderness which I first heard about through Leor Pantilat’s trip report. With our eyes set on the Evolution Traverse and Thunderbolt-Sill traverse this summer, this long linkup of big peaks seemed like a great training trip.
July 24th at 5:45AM found us locking the car, sights set on Pyramid Peak. Having never gone up the Rocky Canyon trail, we didn’t know what to expect- and took the use trails up the Rocky Creek drainage, passing Forest Service cabins.
Ten minutes later, we realized we had made a bad decision- the use trails petered out, and we were clearly not on the true trail to Pyramid Peak. Thirty minutes spent bushwhacking found us finally on the trail, and working our way up the long 4000-ft climb.
As we approached the talus field near Pyramid’s summit, we heard voices- confused by the early hour, we speculated that it might be others bagging a few peaks in a linkup, but felt confident that we were the only ones bold enough to try such an ambitious linkup.
Minutes later, we were passed by a wordless trail runner, intent on making time up to the summit- and his buddies were not far behind. As they passed, we gathered that they were also attempting the linkup- a group of acquaintances from the trail-running community trying a big cross-country loop.
Though we left the summit just minutes after the five runners, they quickly outpaced us, and when we started descending the chute from Pyramid’s north ridge towards the Lyons Creek drainage, the last of them was leaving the chute. For the hour, fleeting glimpses of them ahead of us would serve to motivate us to quicken our pace.
We made our second navigational error of the day in not following their tracks, but instead trying to gain the ridgeline for some 3rd-class scrambling. While enjoyable, the excursion cost us time- and by the time we made it to the summit of Mt. Agassiz, the last of the others was just leaving the summit of Mt. Price.
The terrain from Agassiz to Price was relaxing; onwards from Price required more routefinding- a quick retreat from the summit and some interesting 3rd class led to the north ridge of Mt. Price and onwards to a gulley leading down to Mosquito Pass. Here the melting snow refilled our bottles, and made for some slick glissading- and we could see the tracks where the others had slid ahead of us.
Lunch at Mosquito Pass found Galina fading, slowly losing ground to a cold she had been recovering from. The climb up Jack’s Peak was hot, dusty, and taxing- and with it already 2PM by the time we made the summit, I could see that the chance of completing the loop was fading quickly.
We ere glad to find use trails between Jack’s and Dick’s Peaks, but at this point wished that the going were easier and couldn’t wait to get back to a trail. Galina heaved herself to the summit of Dick’s Peak, and laid down in exhaustion- ready to just be done, but still far from our objective or a trailhead. Oddly, the summit was circled by butterflies, who danced in the summer breezes.
Hitting the trail at Dick’s Pass was a delight- but we were still far from done. My IT bands were painfully tight, making me hobble carefully down the steep descent off Dick’s, and preventing me from running the easy miles to Gilmore Lake. At the Mt. Tallac junction, Galina was ready to crawl into bed and fight back her cold- but unfortunately Tallac still stood between us and our bail option.
Summiting Mt. Tallac at 5:30 meant that we had the summit to ourselves, and could appreciate the distance we had come- but also remark at just how far away Mt. Ralston still was. With tight IT band and Galina’s energy waning, we bailed down to Fallen Leaf Lake, getting a pickup from family.
Partially completed Strava here
August 20, 2016: The comeback
Strong, faster, an hour or two ahead of our previous time, and things were purring- instead of arriving atop Tallac half-dead, we were upbeat and optimistic about the trail ahead.
The remaining miles were a mix, and a blur- mostly below treeline, a constant fight to beat sunset, and headphones-in, head-down focus on getting through it. We were both in the “pain cave” – the bliss of exploration behind us, the plodding commitment of remaining miles ahead.
Sunset came as a beautiful scene on the plateau between Lake Aloha and Mt. Ralston- the colors vibrant but fading as we moved ever southward. By the time we got to Ralston, we had to switch on our headlamps – and the final descent was a painful, ankle-wrenching trudge to get back to the car, to beers, and to friends.