Seeking Ansel Adams' ghost on Yosemite's Matthes Crest

In 1938 Ansel Adams led an extended trip for his friends Georgia O'Keefe, David McAlpin, and two  Rockefellers through the Yosemite wilderness. His entourage included "about fourteen mules, guide, packer, cook, much food, warm bedding, photographic equipment, and great expectations in general." They camped two nights at Cathedral Lake and by Adams' words and the testimony of two of his photographs the party made it to the north approach to formidable Matthes Crest (which Adams forbade anyone to attempt to climb).

Adams' 1938 photo scanned from page 229 of his autobiography

My August 2019 rephotograph of Adams' September 1938 Matthes Crest photo

I've been viewing Matthes Crest for nearly fifty years and wanted to rephotograph Adams' two photos. In August 2019 I stood at the east end of Echo Peak 8 looking down the whitebark pine-filled col and finally decided to see if I could safely get down it and traverse over to the approach to Matthes Crest.

Echo Peaks 8 and 9 above the whitebark col

It turned out to be quite easy and safe and within 30 minutes I was standing where Ansel placed his tripod 81 years ago at about the same angle of the sun and shadows. I was amazed to see that even the small rocks in the foreground had not moved in eight decades of snowstorms, rain, and wind. This is also a testament to how few people come here.

I then clambered to the south to find Adams' second photo site closer in to the crest. I found a perfect match. Again, the rocks are for the ages. Clouds and people come and go but geology flows at a slower rate.

My field copy of Adams' 1938 photo

My August 2019 rephoto

I told my climbing partner that I would meet him in four hours at Budd Lake pass above our Upper Cathedral Lake camp. After my Matthes Crest rephotography I still had three hours to go so I decided to pay a revisit to my "mountaineers paradise" which I had discovered during a solo one-day circumambulation of the Cathedral Cirque in August of 1987. The entrance to this area is a curious passageway which I called "Heaven's Gate."  I could see this opening in the east wall leading up to the Cockscomb from my vantage point on the north apron of Matthes Crest so I decided to reclimb this passageway at seventy which I had first done thirty-two years earlier at the age of thirty-eight.

Here's my 1987 photo of Heaven's Gate and my 2019 image of it.

August 1987

August 2019

I intersected the steep sidewall that led to Heaven's Gate about halfway up and found the footing a bit precarious but I made it up to a friendly old twisted mountain hemlock which I used to pull myself up the slope inch by inch until I could stand and clamber through the gateway. I gave out a fine welcoming shout when I made it back through the gate after a thirty-two years absence.

After exploring my mountaineer's paradise I headed up past the "garden wall" to near the base of the Cockscomb which I had clambered up to near the top of in 1987. But not this year. Time was running out with just an hour left to get all the way back to the Budd Lake pass and I wasn't sure yet how I would go. The darkening clouds I had been watching were clearly pouring down on the Tuolumne Meadows area to the north. Distant thunder was booming.

The Cockscomb from Mountaineers Paradise

Looking down into the Cathedral Cirque from below the Cockscomb

Looking down towards Budd Lake, which is a route I took decades ago, I quickly saw that lingering snowfields and the steepness of the descent were not for me so I hurried along to the highest point of the Matthes Crest apron where it intersects the south wall of Echo Crest. Here I found a refreshing snowfield where I filled my near-empty water bottle and speedily traversed over to the whitebark col leading up to Echo Peaks. At the top I found myself facing a seven-foot undercut wall which I could only climb by bridging the gap with my body using the tension between my legs and my back to inch my way up. Soon I was heading down the wide north-facing sandy swath that leads down to Budd Lake. As soon as I cleared the rocks to the west I headed directly down to Budd Lake Pass crossing gorgeous slot canyons full of late-season greenery and blossoms. I made it back to David at Budd Lake Pass 30 minutes after four after a fine adventure back in time.

The sandy swath leading to Wilts Col and the Echo Peaks

Echo Peaks

Return to Yosemite's Mount Watkins

In May 1987 I parked my Nissan Stanza wagon on a Tioga Road pullout above Hidden Lake and set off on a solo overnight cross-country hike to Yosemite's Mount Watkins. I wanted to witness the sunset and sunrise on Cloud's Rest and Half Dome from this vantage point across deep Tenaya Canyon. I slept out under the bright stars on eroded bare granite among stunted and twisted junipers with glacially-carved monuments all around and the song of Pywiack Cascade rising up from the depths of the canyon.

Thirty-two years later, in August 2019, I found myself on a day-hike with my long-time hiking friend, David Witt, headed back to Mt. Watkins. My goal was to rephotograph a particularly-picturesque juniper at the end of the granite promontory. Unfortunately, I forgot the short-cut of parking above Hidden Lake so we started at Olmsted Point which adds more distance and climbing both ways. This would have been fine but some climbers had their fall cushion on the trail and said they had no idea where the trail was when we asked them. So I decided to just hike down slope not realizing we were on the wrong side of the wrong ridge.

We kept dropping in elevation trying to round the steep ridge to the west but got hemmed in between dense manzanita and the cliffs of Tenaya Canyon. Stubborn as I am I found a laborious way through the brush and we made it to a bare granite slope which took us to the base of the correct ridge and after a climb through a bog and a forested slope we connected with the Snow Creek Trail. Soon we left the trail for the cross-country saunter to the top of Mt. Watkins.

I found and photographed my ancient juniper, which I dubbed "Endeavor." Enjoy these images of our adventure.

Note: Click on any image to enlarge and scroll through.

Cloud's Rest from Mt. Watkins

Endeavor Juniper and Half dome

Another view of Endeavor

Nearing Olmsted Point

On our cross-country route we came across in two places remnants of the old Yosemite Valley to Bodie telegraph wire.

Climbing Yosemite's Eagle Peak and El Capitan by trail

On July 6, 2019 I left my Eagle Creek camp on the west bank of Yosemite Creek to gain the extraordinary views of Yosemite Valley and the High Sierra offered by Eagle Peak and the top of El Capitan.

My first stop was to rephotograph John Muir's journal sketch "Bog back of Three Brothers," which he drew on August 13, 1869. I scared up a cinnamon-furred small black bear on my approach to the bog. Balancing on a long-fallen bleached lodgepole pine, I made my photograph and found that the trees now blocked Muir's view of Mt. Hoffman from the bog. Green rein-orchids and shooting stars were in peak flower in the bog and I saw a striped coral root orchid in the forest.

On Eagle Peak, which is the highest of the Three Brothers, I gained what I think is the finest view of Yosemite Valley and the High Sierra of the Clark and Cathedral Ranges.

Though I promised myself I'd be satisfied with the view from the summit of El Capitan, I found myself drifting further down the granite slope trying not to slip on the granite pebbles that covered the bedrock. Soon I was withing 15-feet of the 3000' vertical cliff and I decided the last few feet were not worth the candle. I think I was the last one to visit the clifftop that day from bottom or top.

Enjoy these photos of my adventure. Note: If you click a photo it enlarges and you can scroll through the images.

Eagle Meadows photo:

John Muir visited Eagle Peak at least twice. the first time was August 13, 1869 just after he made the sketch of Eagle Meadows-bog. The second time was on August 8, 1870 with Joseph LeConte, the U.C. Berkeley geologist who was leading the University Excursion Party through Yosemite and over to Mono Lake with Muir as guide. Here are Muir's words describing his 1869 solo climb up Eagle Peak:

I spent the afternoon in a grand ramble along the Yosemite walls. From the highest of the rocks called the Three Brothers, I enjoyed a magnificent view comprehending all the upper half of the floor of the valley and nearly all the rocks of the walls on both sides and at the head, with snowy peaks in the background. Saw also the Vernal and Nevada Falls, a truly glorious picture, --rocky strength and permanence combined with beauty of plants frail and fine and evanescent; water descending in thunder, and the same water gliding through meadows and groves in gentlest beauty. This standpoint is about eight thousand feet above the sea, or four thousand feet above the floor of the valley, and every tree, though looking small and feathery, stands in admirable clearness, and the shadows they cast are as distinct in outline as if seen at a distance of a few yards. They appeared even more so. No words will ever describe the exquisite beauty and charm of this mountain park--Nature's landscape garden at once tenderly beautiful and sublime. No wonder it draws nature-lovers from all over the world.

Glacial action even on this lofty summit is plainly displayed. Not only has all the lovely valley now smiling in sunshine been filled to the brim with ice, but it has been deeply overflowed.

Eagle Peak photos follow:

El Capitan photos follow:

Western Azalea

Brink of El Capitan photos follow:

Lightning-struck pine on El Capitan