May I please have a show of hands—How many of you would like to take a couple precious vacation days, arrange accommodations, drive four-plus hours to Lake Tahoe, so you can climb 3,300 feet up a steep and grueling five-mile (each way) trail to the top of a 9,735-foot peak?
Anyone … anyone?
To many, anyone who raises their hand must certainly be a candidate for the funny farm, but the 45 challengers who recently climbed Mount Tallac above Lake Tahoe went home tired, proud and wet.
Last summer, after the Clouds Rest challengers returned from the iconic hulk that rises 1,100 feet above Yosemite’s Half Dome, I was asked, “What next?” After careful thought, Mount Tallac seemed the perfect choice. While it is not technically the highest mountain on the rim that defines the Lake Tahoe basin, it is the highest mountain rising from the immediate shore of the lake. It is not hard to imagine the views that wait there, which makes Mount Tallac a popular and enticing target for peak-baggers.
In many respects, the climb up Mount Tallac would be more difficult than Clouds Rest. Though the hike to Clouds Rest was longer, the elevation gain was less. On Mount Tallac, we would ascend more over a shorter distance. And while the walk up Clouds Rest never rose above what one would call a hike, the ascent of Mount Tallac is more than just a hike; it borders on mountaineering.
Renée and I met a few of the Mount Tallac challengers on a Friday—the day before the big climb—for a short hike at Echo Lakes. About two miles off of Highway 50 near Echo Summit, Echo Lakes is an interesting place that puts you in the midst of Sierra high country as soon as you step out of your car. The road ends at the outlet of Lower Echo Lake where you can choose to continue on foot or take the water taxi ($12 per person each way) to the end of Upper Echo Lake and the Desolation Wilderness boundary.
But this was not the day for an ambitious tour of Desolation Wilderness. Instead, we walked a beautiful trail that rolled gently along the edge of Echo Lakes to stretch our legs and allow our lungs to adjust to the fresh, but oxygen-poor mountain air. Our eyes were on tomorrow and Mount Tallac.
Just before the dinner hour, lazy afternoon clouds had swelled into massive cumulonimbus monsters that unleashed torrential rain and hail. A stirring thunder and lightning display accompanied the downpour. I thought about the danger we might face walking exposed across the naked hulk of Mount Tallac in such weather, but I took comfort in the fact that these showers had developed long after we would be off the mountain.
Mount Tallac trailhead, 8 a.m. Saturday morning
Familiar faces exchanged greetings and excited chatter, then set out on the day’s journey. The gentle approach to the mountain is through a classic Sierra forest; bright and spacious, unlike forests in any other mountain range. Soon, we rose to the crest of a lateral moraine of glacial detritus. Below, on the left, the full length of Fallen Leaf Lake, still calm in its early morning repose. On the right, the impressive summit of Mount Tallac looked down impassively as if mocking the prospect of reaching her.
Past Floating Island Lake, up to Cathedral Lake, the Jeffrey pines gave way to a thinning forest of western white pines and an occasional western hemlock. At Cathedral Basin, we left the forest behind and entered the world of rock and rubble. If any of the Mount Tallac challengers were going to lose heart, it would be here. Over the distance of a few football fields, the rocky trail rose several hundred feet at a cruel and heartless angle up to a broad expansive tableland at the top. The contrast was striking. After plodding up this wicked slope, watching only our shoe tops and struggling for each breath, we looked up to see the full expanse of Lake Tahoe. On the other side of the headwall, miles of Desolation Valley Wilderness came into view topped by 9,983-foot Pyramid Peak in the distance.
We had passed the steepest portion of the climb, but the top of Mount Tallac was still 1 1/2 miles and 1,200 vertical feet away. While the trail from the top of the headwall to the summit was up a manageable gradient, the ever-thinning air combined with the energy spent to get there multiplied the difficulty of each step.
Finally, at the top of a little shelf, the summit appeared just a hundred feet away. A notable peak adjacent to a popular tourist destination such as Lake Tahoe will never offer solitude. We had lots of company, but that didn’t detract from the joy of the moment or the spectacular view. We looked over Emerald Bay, Cascade Lake, Fallen Leaf Lake and all of Lake Tahoe as if through an airline window. The trailhead where we began was a breathtaking distance below us. Lunch, smiles, congratulations and photographs filled our time at the top.
The weather on top had been warm, sunny and perfectly still. I noticed a few thin swirls beginning to build into innocent looking cumulus clouds; nothing to worry about—or so I thought. We were below the open rocky rubble, back in the forest when the darkening sky cracked with thunder that rumbled down and echoed across the slopes of Tallac. Soon hail was pouring down.
For me, the meteorological hubbub was a refreshing and dramatic ending to a perfect day. Mother Nature put on a complete show for us: majesty, drama, beauty—both delicate and powerful—and most of all, she gave us an indelible experience. Just being out there was gift enough, but the climb up Mount Tallac was a challenge and a test. Do you have the determination and perseverance to push through the pain? Everyone made it to the top, but whether you get there or not, you learn that you are capable of more than you thought.
