Tokopah Falls Ice
by SCMA Members Michael Gordon & Steve Cole

Eight intrepid, indomitable and indolent SCMA kindred spirits met at the Lodgepole Trailhead in Sequoia NP on Saturday 15 January, determined to not be outdone by any amount of prescribed poor weather in their quest for ice. Steve Cole, Lou Wilson, Liz Ying, Cathy Reynolds, and Murray Zichlinsky arrived at reasonable hours of the day on Thursday and Friday. Our fearless leader—Steve—arrived late Thurs afternoon and hiked in early Friday morning to find and set up a discrete campsite near the falls. In the meantime, the carpooling team of Dave German, Michael Gordon, and Judy Rittenhouse arrived at 1:30am Saturday morning after completing The Drive From Hell that began in San Diego during rush hour traffic. Stops in Long Beach and Bakersfield took place before the dilatory trio finally hit the steep, windy, and blackened hairpins of the General's Highway. Yet another memorable epic from the Dave and Judy team, albeit not on a climb this time.

As the group awakened on Saturday morning, they were greeted by a friendly ranger who inquired if we had camped illegally at the trailhead, were we planning on climbing, and were we planning on camping near the falls? Save for the climbing, two of the aforementioned articles are illegal as such, as everything from the trailhead to the falls is Day Use Only. In answer to the nice lady Ranger's questions, our Fearless Leader Cole slowly pondered the implications of various answers for several crucial moments, then sheepishly replied "I'm gonna be honest with you, .….". 'Nuff said. After Fearless Leader Cole spent 30 minutes back at the Ranger station negotiating with the nice lady Ranger—assisted by her inability to find a map which precisely delineated the Day Use Only area—we were able to modify the rules just enough to allow us to pursue our plan. With a nod and a wink the nice lady Ranger conceded to giving Fearless Leader a permit to camp above the falls, as both agreed that this would clearly be outside the Day Use Only area, map or no map. Somehow, however, we never did quite make it to our Wilderness-permitted campsite above the Falls, what with the threatening weather (winter storm watch, no shit) bearing down on us, rugged terrain, slippery rocks, bears in the area, infected hangnails, etc, etc.. Instead, we were only able to make it as far as campsites used by the Club in past Tokopah trips. Go figure. Darn.

We professional SCMA climbers entertained the Park Baggers who walked to trails end on the Tokopah Valley trail; replete with their big umbrellas, dogs, picnic accoutrements, and cheezy disposable cameras. While Wilson, Ying, and Cole were gearing up to begin the first climb of the day, the approaching Gordon was asked by one of the Park Baggers; "Are you an ice climber? They're taking too long!" (referring Wilson/Ying/Cole trio). Acting as if they had paid for the show but the curtain hadn't lifted, these folks were adamant about seeing some ice climbing action before their nice church clothes could be dampened by God's spittle.

On Saturday, the octet of ice climbers was able to squeeze out nearly a whole day of easy to moderate ice climbing, despite the paucity of lines abetted by a poor winter and lack of cold. The large slab to the right side, which has been a popular area on past trips, was not formed up so no climbing was done there. Instead, we stayed mostly in the gully to the left side where the water was flowing under the ice. Most of it was relatively low angle, interspersed with short 10-20’ vertical sections. Michael and Dave each led a pitch and then set up top ropes for all. Wilson, Ying and Cole continued up the gully for 4 full rope lengths on mixed terrain, not quite reaching what looked like good ice another 200 vertical feet up.

Near the end of the day, alas, the snow began to fall, blanketing the granite amphitheater in the pretty stuff. Ahh, but now it's raining. No - it's sleeting. No - it's definitely raining now. This rain/sleet/snow circus continued virtually unabated the entire weekend. By Sunday morning we had 2-4" of new stuff that finally stuck. Note that there was no "old" stuff: the Sierras have seen almost no snow so far this winter. There were a few isolated patches here and there along the trail on the way in but that was about it.

How quickly it all turns to slush, and how curious that dry ropes no longer seem dry. One particular rope - which became tenderly known as "The Sponge" - had no difficulty absorbing triple it's weight in water. Fine for rope cleaning. However, not so fine for the sodden and pathetic rappeller catching a lap full of dirty dishwater being wrung from the rope by the rappel device.

The eight waterlogged climbers made their way back to their camp – each decked in high-tech fabric that had lost its water-repellent properties with every other individual carrying a waterlogged rope. Gordon ended up carrying The Sponge as no one had the courage to lay claim to the tatty, disheveled, and disgraceful rope.

Each of the eight retired to their tents immediately upon arrival at camp due to the now continuous rain. So much for socializing around the campfire. All held the same thoughts: what a pathetic winter. One of the first snowfalls of the winter - which we were present to witness - had lasted only a matter of measly minutes. Here we were at nearly 8000' above sea level in the mighty Sierra Nevada in nearly the middle of winter - is rain as good as it gets? Doesn’t Sierra Nevada mean "snowy range" or something like that?

Curiously, no one jumped out of their tents on Sunday morning due to the still occurring rain/sleet/snow. However, we eventually arose and agreed to inspect the condition of the ice and the condition of our temperament before calling a premature end to the outing. Fearless Leader seemed determined to have a campfire and spent the better part of an hour trying to prove it. After laboring patiently and delicately over a handful of dry twigs, he eventually coaxed to life one of the most pitiful little blazes you’ve ever seen. Kinda reminded ya of Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree in the movie "A Charlie Brown Christmas". Pitiful as it was, it did give off some very welcome warmth in the dreary, sodden surroundings. After everyone enjoyed a handwarming or two, we were soon on our way to the falls, breaking trail in fresh snow/slush.

It was evident upon approaching the Falls that the ice was indeed in worse condition than Saturday, with now enlarged holes punctuated by water spurting out from behind the icy curtain. Moreover, heightened caution was in order to ensure secure tool and crampon placements on the now snow-blanketed falls whose conditions were weakened by warmer temperatures. Even the rock slabs where we stashed all our gear at the base of the climbs was treacherous due to the layer of snow.

After sufficiently chopping up the last of the climbable ice – while still enduring continued rain and sleet – we all agreed to pack it in early so we could break camp, walk out, and drive into Three Rivers for pizza, ale, and dry accommodations (negotiated at "poor climbers’ rates"). We individually left the Falls agreeing to sort gear later, but still, The Sponge was left behind. Again, no one lay claim to this pitiful wet cord. Eventually, the rope did in fact go home with someone, but with whom doth remain a mystery.

Like true SCMA savages, all eight of us took refuge in the rather large men’s toilet at the trailhead which was conveniently warmer than the temperature outside and provided an ideal place for sorting gear. We squatted and groveled amidst the clinking of ice screws and biners, while the darkening room was lit dimly by the hissing of a Coleman double-mantled lantern. Surely, the eight of us huddled in the small, wet john would have shocked the unsuspecting intruder who might have accused us of dealing drugs or selling Russian contraband climbing gear.

Monday morning saw Cole, Wilson, and Ying heading for the Southland, while the remaining quintet elected to partake in the park bagging interpretive displays of the Lodgepole area. The signage at the base of Moro Rock admonished us not to make the "strenuous" quarter-mile and three hundred-foot gain climb to the top in the rain. Heedless, we professionals walked to the top in about seven minutes to enjoy more cloudy and rain-filled views of nothing, as we had been for more than thirty-six hours now.

We also visited the planet’s largest living thing (and perhaps most truly stunning): the General Sherman Tree. The humored German and Gordon still remain amused by both audio and visual National Park Service presentations which anthropomorphistically declare the leading cause of death of the Sequoiadendron giganteum as merely "losing their balance". Go figure.

We pray and hope for better ice for the true millennium SCMA Tokopah Ice trip in 2001. We also pray to see The Sponge – the mystery ball of nylon – aflame in the G.C. funeral pyre at Fossil Falls in April. Heck, it might even be dry by then.

© Copyright, 2001 Southern California Mountaineers Association. All Rights Reserved.