Unsure of the tenability of the main hike we'd planned for our visit to the White Mountains - a hike to the 14,252 foot summit of White Mountain itself - we proceeded toward the trailhead with a bit of trepidation. A few minutes earlier, we'd been approached by a Spanish-speaking couple who'd asked @mrs.turbodb if we'd been to the end of the road. They'd picked us because our vehicle suggested that we might have been, and the information officers - at the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Visitor Center - told them that they wouldn't be able to make it because the road was closed.
Up we go, through green grass, to higher elevations.
While the view in front of us was new and enticing, the view behind us was spectacularly familiar.
Working around the last of the trees at the Patriarch Grove.
The possible infeasibility of our hike evoked different reactions from the two people looking out the windshield. I was worried. I'd been watching snow levels in the area for weeks prior to our departure, and it had seemed to me that the heat dome - which we'd had to endure on our torturous hike to the Champion Spark Plug Mine - had finally taken care of the last few inches of stubborn snow that had been covering the summit. @mrs.turbodb on the other hand seemed relieved. Our first day of hiking had been one of the hardest hikes we've ever done, and she was not looking forward to an even longer hike at an even higher elevation, even if I assured her that it would be a much less strenuous afair.
Continuing to climb, even the groundcover disappeared, as patches of snow dotted the lunar-looking landscape.
Behind us.
By now, we were passing through 11,800 feet and as the road climbed over a rocky knoll, we got our first glimpse of White Mountain. "That's strange," I mused, "it looks a lot more like Red Mountain to me." With three more miles to the trailhead, I also joked that we could always just add a few miles to our 16-mile out-and-back if we did run into snow.
"That's six miles and 1,000 vertical feet," I was reminded! 
Sure is pretty up here!
Ultimately, while there were a few patches of snow that were close to the road, the only impact was a bit of melt water that splashed under the tires as the Tacoma huffed and puffed - climbing, and then ultimately losing 100 feet of elevation - to arrive at the 11,700-foot trailhead. We'd made it! Our agenda was saved!
Still, it was too early to call it quits for the day. While neither of us wanted to head out on another hike - we'd save our energy for the following morning - we had noticed a road that peeled off of our route a few miles back, and decided to go check it out.
Heading back down the mountain, we could see a Jeep approaching. It was the Mexican American couple we'd chatted with below and we shared the good news that the trailhead was accessible before wishing them well and assuming we'd not see them again as we pushed on with our exploration. Little did we know how wrong we were at the time!
Looking out from a scree road along the edge of Cottonwood Moutain, the valley below was a sight to behold.
We didn't explore all that long before realizing that - after our late dinner the previous day - it might be nice to pull into camp a little early so we could enjoy a leisurely evening and retire early in preparation for our trek the following morning. So, we pointed the Tacoma in the direction we'd come and soon found ourselves pulling into the trailhead parking area a few minutes after 5:00pm.
There, with a ground tent set up, were our Mexican American friends. And a second Jeep, with more of their friends. Soon, another load would arrive; then another. When we awoke the next morning, there'd be six cars and more than 20 people in their group. A group that - with good reason - called themselves the "Happy Hikers!"
It was windy up here and the ground wasn't level, but with a few rocks and some strategic positioning of the Tacoma, we got oriented into the wind as best we could.
As @mrs.turbodb set about assembly of our dinner - some delicious salami sandwiches, potato chips, nectarines, and lemon cake, I wandered out into the grassy field in front of the Tacoma to introduce myself to our neighbors and ask that they refrain from investigating the wiring of the Tacoma over the next 24 hours, a reputation that they've developed over the years.
Oh no, they've seen me.
"Hey Marge, we've got visitors."
It was tough getting my point across - my marmot is rather rusty - but I hoped that I'd squeaked and clicked clearly enough to make my point, before heading back to enjoy dinner and wash up.
It was well before sunset as we climbed into the tent, @mrs.turbodb reading to me from The Demon of Unrest: A Saga of Hubris, Heartbreak, and Heroism at the Dawn of the Civil War - a well-written and so much more interesting book than I'd have suspected - as I nodded off to sleep.
The following morning...
We knew we needed to get up early, the question was simply, how early? Our usual pace is about one mile per hour once we account for various photos, poking around structures we find, etc., but I hoped that we'd be able to complete this hike in less than 12 hours, since I didn't expect us to find many mines or petroglyphs along the way. Still, we'd be in the sun the entire time, so we both knew that we needed to get an early start. We decided that 4:30am would be a good time to wake up, allowing us to get on the trail half an hour before sunrise.
So, that's what we did. Well, at least, the 4:30am part. Making lunch, stowing the tent, and gathering our things meant that we didn't get on the trail until a few minutes after sunrise, but that would turn out to be just fine.
Good morning Sierra, you're looking fine with your white shawl.
Here. We. Go!
The trail to the summit is actually a road, but a locked gate allows only foot traffic from two miles below the Barcroft Research Station to the summit. It turned out that our departure coincided with that of the Happy Hikers, and as we passed a few of them on the initial ascent, each of them greeted us in high spirits as we all continued at our own pace. The goal wasn't to get to the top first, it was to get there at all!
A trail of Happy Hikers.
Somehow, we found ourselves at the front of the pack, the sun providing a little warmth on this cool morning.
We hadn't felt like it was in the high 20s °F, but apparently, it was!
We wouldn't remain at the head of the pack for long, but we did pass through the Barcroft Station before being caught again, the first two miles - of eight to the summit - now behind us. It hadn't been as hard - I think - as either of us had feared, and I hoped that was an indication of the rest of the hike!
What type of research do you do, Barcroft?
A little further on, this observatory would be a great spot to squander away a dark night below White Mountain.
The walking continued, and with every passing step we got closer. Our spirits were high and even with my incesant stopping for photos, we were pounding out a pace of more than two miles per hour. And then, it happened.
"On your left," we heard, the patter of feet quicker than our own. Moving over, we couldn't believe it - one of the Happy Hikers wasn't just passing us, he was trail running the route at 12,495 feet.
And then, another. And another. In the end, six hikers - all seemingly in their 50s and 60s - passed us in very impressive fashion.
Jogging up the trail, with packs much heavier than ours.
Don't mind us, we're just younger and slower.
Our spirits weren't dampened at all, and we got a good chuckle out of the whole situation as we joked with each other and continued to climb.
I'd assumed that we'd been in the White Mountain Wilderness the entire time, but perhaps not?
The view just kept getting better.
Soon, the observatory was but a blip below the Sierra.
By this point in the trail, none of the grades had been that steep, but that didn't keep us from complaining loudly - to no one in particular - whenever the road would follow the undulating hills down into a depression. "Certainly they could have filled this in so we didn't have to walk up the other side," we suggested. "Just lazy builders," we grumbled. "There were probably three guys just standing around watching."
Soon, we'd start the final leg - a 2.3-mile set of switchbacks - and the real "up" part of the journey.
"Good luck," this Golden-Mantled Ground Squirrel mumbled. Or maybe he was just eating grass.
To this point we'd been walking through a green oasis, but as we began our final ascent, we the trail wound its way into a barren terrain. Gleaming brightly under the blue sky, it was a sight to behold, behold we did. Several times. Definitely not because we needed a break to catch our breath. Nope, we were definitely just fine.
Colorful ridge.
Up.
Behold the world below. And see those dunes in the far distance? (Left side, at the base of the farthest mountains.)
Those are the Eureka Valley Sand Dunes in Death Valley National Park! So cool.
A bird. (An extremely rare Pinkusdotus onwingus, or perhaps more likely, a Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch)
Nearly there, the orange, green, blue, and white laid out before us.
About half a mile before reaching the top - and right around 9:30am - we found a nice little sheltered area alongside the trail and decided to enjoy the lunch that @mrs.turbodb had whipped up under cover of darkness. Turkey sandwiches with spicy peppers, a bag of Lays (that promised eight servings but seemed to only contain two), and a smattering of green and red grapes made for good eating at what was nearly the top of the world.
Looking north along the ridge of the White Mountains. The furthest peak - barely discernable in the distance and 1,000 feet lower - is Boundary Peak, the highest point in Nevada.
We were full of anticipation as we made the final push to the top. By this time, the Happiest of the Happy Hikers were already there, cheering on the remainder of their group - and us - with each successive switchback. It was a party on the summit, and we were invited!
Made it! Our first 14er!
Hard to beat that view.
Gotta get a shot with the peak log and fancy sign.
Thanks Zane @Speedytech7 for making me view all of these a little differently now.
We spent about 45 minutes on the summit - looking one way and then the other - while we soaked in the never-ending view that extended in every possible direction. We'd made it to the top by 10:20am, our five-hour time - including lunch (!) - better than either of us ever expected. We started wondering what we'd do with all the extra time we were sure to find ourselves with upon our return.
After the arrival of a few more Happy Hikers, said our goodbyes and headed back down the hill. The views now were just as dramatic as they'd been on the way up - or perhaps even more so, the sun now higher in the sky - and we marveled at them all for a second time as we put one foot in front of the other, our pace even faster than it'd been on the way up.
Heading back down to ground level.
A colorful ridge, heading east toward Dyer and Fish Lake Valley.
A couple miles down, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. Catching @mrs.turbodb's attention, we continued slowly along the trail, hoping that the focus of our attention wouldn't scamper away, since it's not often we see a bighorn sheep when we're out and about.
Looking a little scraggly, shedding a winter coat.
From there, it was more down, though for a good part of that down, we were looking behind us, and up. How could we not, with White Mountain gleaming in the morning sun?
The patchy snow on green grass, our road winding through, and a backdrop.
We were up there just a few minutes earlier
Finally in frame.
It was two minutes after 2:00pm when we arrived at the trailhead and played rock-paper-scissors for dibs on the pit toilet. Then, after a few snacks and sheding of our packs, we climbed into the Tacoma and just sat. While the hike hadn't been half as strenuous as the one to the Champion Spark Plug Mine, the bottoms of our feet were tired, and the warm air in the cab was nearly nice enough to require a nap.
Nearly back to camp, and the road to more adventure.
But there was a lot more of the White Mountains to see, and we weren't going to lose any time in seeing what we could, pointing the truck towards a meadow that I'd heard was "hard to get to, but worth enjoying for a few days once you do," if the road to it was even passable anymore...
The Whole Story
WMRC has a youtube channel for their lecture series: https://www.youtube.com/@ucwmrc/videos
Very interesting, knew there was a research station in the White Mountains but didn't know more about it until now, thanks.
Another fine adventure with excellent photos. Looks like that road is very good and should be easy to drive. As for middle aged trail runners, you might be surprised at what people in the 60-70's. For a number of years we'd have a weekend group bike ride out here into the hills. I'd often end up at the back to keep an eye on stragglers (request from group leader). On one ride one of the frequent riders who always struggled on the rides complained to me about how hard it was in the hills/mountains & asked me how old I was, looking for some sympathy, I told him 68 which was about 6 years older than him. He never complained to me again! When backpacking & hiking in the High Sierras my friend & I (a fellow I worked with, both of us in our late 40's) usually paced at 3 mph, a good speed for getting exercise without huffing and puffing.
The road up to the summit is in great shape, and would be easily drivable were it not for the locked gate. There was only one snow drift that would have stopped vehicles. I have no idea if that drift melts by the end of summer, but either way, it's less than a quarter mile to the top from the drift.
The WMRC opens the gate once a year, though this year they decided not to open it, unfortunately.
It's always inspiring when we see folks who are older than us out on the trails, especially when they are in better condition. These are folks who I always know - almost without a doubt - are fun to talk to and who have great stories. I hope, someday, to be lucky enough to be one of them. Full of stories of my adventures and still making more memories!
3mph is a great speed. That's about what we cruise at as well, for the same reason as you!
Wow, some amazing views. Eureka Dunes must be 50 miles away, surprised there was a sightline to them. That mountain is pretty colorful for one named White. 😆
Always glad to see seniors out there proving you don't have to slow down.
Ran across this couple in their 60s, on the 4wd trail from Elephant Hill to Beef Basin in Utah. They would finish the American Discovery Trail (4300 miles) a few months later.
My photo has a link to a newspaper article on their completing the trail.
https://www.cliffhall.com/southern-utah-ruins-petroglyphs-may-2012/#GmediaGallery_2113-all-0-7317
The views were spectacular! We were so surprised to see Eureka Dunes, but as I thought about it, I thought back to a trip where I started in Fish Lake with a view of the White Mountains, and ended up at the Dunes where I pulled an adventurer I now call a friend out of the silt. I could still see the White Mountains as I climbed out Dedeckera Canyon, and now I know why!
I hope one day to be those folks you found in Canyonlands! What a great way to live!
Ah, memories...Mary Lou and I had a great time up there also. I think it was about 2008. We also wound our way up to the top...only a few feet lower than Whitney. So many cool things and views. I showed Mary Lou the photo of the pinky bird and she immediately IDed it as Rosy Finch which we also saw up there. That's one of the few places they inhabit, only the very highest places. UJ
Awesome! Probably hasn't changed much in 20 years, which is nice! And, thanks for the bird ID; I've updated the story with it!
(And thanks for the photo, I can tell it's not the last time we'll be exploring the Whites!)
I'm amazed how many people were up there hiking.
Great shots...love that ground squirrel.
Thanks Tom! I think the number of people was not normal. We were there on the first or second weekend the trail was open (road was passable to the trailhead), so a backlog from winter. Plus, the Happy Hikers group was an anomoly. I think, usually, you might expect to see 3-4 couples hike up on a normal weekend, and only a couple couples on a weekday!
That ground squirrel was a fun one to see. A quick little guy; it was hard to get him to sit still for a photo! 🐿
My God, that cabin looks like the Geo Cabin in Butte Valley in the south Panamint ridge. On the east side of Fish Valley is a trail that leads to Silver Peak Lithium mines. A city too, like stepping into a time warp, down the other side of Silver Peak is Goldfield NV. South to Las Vegas and back to boredom. Love the White Mountain.
That upper laboratory of the White Mountain Research Center is a bit reminiscent - at least from the angle I took the photo - of the Geologist Cabin in Butte Valley, but in person it is much larger and not nearly as "cute."
The Silver Peak Lithium mines are something, aren't they?! We passed through there on our way in and out of Nivloc, and it seemed like the whole town was very "company." I'm impressed that you were able to get out to the ponds; when we were there, it seemed like there was security everywhere (not that we tried to make a run for it or anything, hahaha).
Goldfield is fun too. I'm hoping you've checked out the International Car Forest there?
Perfect!
Thank you!
P.S. At 76, I'm still young enough to walk, sail and camp... But 14,000 feet is not in my cards anymore. The lungs said no....grins.
Loved the views!!
Dan .. Suggest you consider publishing a table top book of your best pictures. Seriously.
Thanks so much David, glad you enjoyed the photos, and always love to have you along virtually!
A tabletop book might be in the future, perhaps somehow funded via crowdsourcing or something. I've always shied away from such an endeavor because I figured that printing something in full color would be prohibitively expensive.
Wow, sure is barren up there. Did altitude affect you much on the hike? Great views!!
@mrs.turbodb was a little worried about altitude, but it didn't affect either of us for the duration of our time up there. I was pretty sure we'd be fine, since we were both totally OK when we went from sea level to 13,796 feet when we visited Mauna Kea in Hawaii at Christmas.
Another fabulous trip report! I visited Barcroft in August 2019, hoping they'd open up some of the facility so we could learn about the research but alas, everything other than the entrance gate was locked up. As an aside, back in the 50's it was resupplied by aircraft- a Cessna 172 IIRC, hard to imagine it getting up there.
Thanks Lars! Just getting back through comments from the last few days, and always nice to see when reports are enjoyed! 👍