Northern Sierra Peakbagging

Adams Peak, Mount Elwell, Sierra Buttes, English Mountain, Mount Lola, Castle Peak

October 2024

Anthony and I didn’t plan on wasting the last few days of fall in the Sierra, so we met on Thursday night at a remote dirt road in the far northeast corner of the range. We had no way of communicating the day or two leading up to our trip for various reasons, so we had just agreed on meeting at a set coordinate. Sure enough, Anthony was there when I arrived. After eating food and catching up, we slept.

Our plan was to hike the six northernmost SPS peaks in the range, the first of which was Adams Peak. We rose before dawn and drove Anthony’s car to the start of the route. The route was entirely off trail, and the “start” was just a small turnout on an obscure logging road. Up we went along the broad and thickly forested northwest flank of the peak. Faint game trails sped our mission along here and there.

Eventually, we made it to the summit, with striking views despite the peak’s lack of grandeur. We were surrounded by broad stretches of flat desert landscapes to our east in Nevada. To the west and the south, we gazed upon the Sierra, much more forested and undulating than the terrain more at the heart of the range. Despite their lack of prominence, the peaks and hills were nonetheless impressive, and the forests seemed to stretch infinitely.

We began our descent before long, knowing that we had a lot of peaks to hike and not a lot of days to hike them in. We descended a little too far east from the peak, which made the return slightly slower than anticipated. But soon we were at Anthony’s car and then back to where we had left mine. We drove for a few miles to a dam where a parking lot with bathrooms beckoned. After relieving ourselves and eating some food, we were off for Mt. Elwell.

Elwell was uneventful yet worthwhile. A trail led us to the summit and we had excellent views south. We saw Sierra Buttes, our next objective, looming forebodingly in the distance. Its craggy summit looked fairly inaccessible from our vantage, which actually would turn out to be true if not for a large metal staircase leading to the abandoned fire lookout station on the top.

Down we went from Elwell. More food and water were consumed at the car, and we took off for Sierra Buttes. My memory, though this was not but a few months back, is failing me, but I believe we climbed Sierra Buttes that same day. Another trail, starting northeast of the peak, led us to the relatively famous staircase to the top. We climbed it and shared the summit with a few other groups of hikers.

And down we went from Sierra Buttes, getting to the car in decent time. We had a lively discussion on where to drive to for the night and how exactly to get there. A lack of service and sketchy beta on the fire roads added to the navigational excitement. We settled on the conservative approach of driving along the 89 and then cutting west to get close to English Mountain and Mt. Lola.

We parked off an obscure forest service road and were surprised to be approached by a ranger in a large white truck. She asked if we were camping. Anthony said, “just cooking some dinner,” and she bade us goodnight.

The next morning we set off for English Mountain. This climb was very pretty but quite a lot more challenging than I thought it would be. The slow slogging up the north flank felt positively interminable. But eventually, we did make it to the summit. The views, as expected, were quite lovely. We could even make out the intimidating rock spires that make up Castle Peak’s distinctive summit.

Down we went from English and off we went for Mt. Lola. This climb would be entirely on trail, and the miles flew by much faster than they had on English. This was a popular climb, as we saw maybe a dozen hikers and even three mountain bikers. It was quite windy on the summit, so we didn’t linger for long. Clouds seemed to be coalescing all around us as we descended, which did not make me feel good about our chances of tagging Castle Peak the next morning. Once back at the cars, we drove down to Truckee, got a bit of gas, and checked the weather. It looked like a storm was rolling in the next day, but the jury was out on whether or not it would start before 11 a.m. We drove around for a bit looking for a good quiet place to sleep and eventually found a somewhat empty parking lot only a two-minute drive from the trailhead.

We rose early, around 5 a.m. (I think), and set off under the light of our headlamps for the peak. The approach was short, and we were making incredible time, but the sky was full of menacing black clouds and the wind howled as it fiercely pierced through every layer of clothing we had on. Maybe a quarter mile from the summit it began to rain, and at some point, the rain turned to sleet and snow. We cracked on, too close to the top to turn around without a fight. A “near vertical section of class three rock,” according to Summitpost, guarded the true summit of Castle Peak. And this seventy-foot section was thoroughly soaked and slippery by the time we got there. Without wasting any time to think or get scared, I started charging up the climb. The rock was indeed vertical, but the holds were large and numerous, and we had some marginal protection from the wind on this spire.

I can’t say I enjoyed the summit views. For one, there weren’t any. It was completely grey, and sleet and snow and rain continued to assail us. On top of this, we still had to downclimb the spire, which I was not looking forward to. We tried to scratch our names in the summit register with numb hands without much luck and then picked our way carefully down from the summit.

Once back onto stable ground, we breathed a sigh of relief and trotted back for the main trail. Before long, the storm was mostly passed, and we even got to take in some sun on the hike out. We got back to the cars, reveled in the glory of the last three days, and then said goodbye. Anthony would head south for Mammoth to start a part-time job and bum around on the east side, and I would leave our dear Sierra for the season and head begrudgingly back for the Bay.