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2006.09.30 - After climbing up to the summit of
Mt. Livermore, the 5th highest peak in Texas, I was very much debating whether or not I
should attempt the traverse over to Mescalero Mountain. On the one hand, I definitely
wanted to make it over to this Potentially unclimbed summit, but on the other hand, I was
worried about the time and effort it would take to make it across the route. Ultimately,
ambitious heads prevailed, which had me heading down toward Tobe Gap.
Before making the decision, I had asked our guide, Bill King, what he
thought about the traverse. "Despite it being incredibly rugged," he said, "all you have to
do is follow the fence-line down to Tobe Gap and back up on the other side." Fence-line?
Here I thought, I was going to be the first to climb this peak and now I find out that
someone's gone to the trouble to build a fence along the route?!? Though I was minorly
frustrated, this actually pushed me over the edge, so to speak, on going ahead with the
climb; if somebody could build a fence over there, the climbing couldn't be that hard
either.
Famous last words...
After shaing goodbyes with the rest of the climbing group, I started
descending the summit pitch of Mt. Livermore, and already found myself off-route! I wound
up on a narrow, yet very fun aręte bordered by a mossy dihedral. I decided to down-climb
the aręte, chooing to face in toward the rock for balance. I made relatively quick work of
the route, though the Boy Scouts passed by around 50 feet away on the normal path, and I
soon found myself on an unstable heap of boulders on the north-face of the tower.
Carefully hopping down, I got back to the trail after a much more exciting (fun) descent
than I should have otherwise had.
Now I could turn my full attention to the task of climbing over to
Mescalero Mountain! Bill had recommended that I start descending southwest in order to
find the key fenceline, which I judiciously did. Easily walking through the brush and
ground-cover, the intrepid climber made short work of the only easy stretch for the
remainder of the day. Things were about to get hard!
I followed the fence as best as I could, sometimes switching from one
side to the other. The vines along the ground were very difficult! Since the topo map
didn't really show the true lay of the land, I had to rely on my judgement to find the best
route. I ended up trying to stay as high as possible, thinking that there would be a nice,
smooth ridge to follow. After all, a fence building crew had made it through the area, so
how hard could it be? I jumped and traversed around a few igneous outcrops that reminded me
a lot of the Wichita Mountains in Oklahoma before topping out on a rounded pinnacle ringed
by 40' - 80' cliffs! The views were great, but I wondered if I should turn around given the
look of the terrain from this point; it was now obvious that any route would have to
negotiate a series of cliff bands prior to reaching the gap.
I began to descend from my perch, and headed down to the first breach
that I could find in the cliffs. Hoping that it would lead me back to the fence, I started
descending a very narrow dihedral that rapidly dropped down to a forested bench.
Negotiating a small tree was the most difficult part, though the stretch was likely a
difficult Class 3 or a low Class 4. Since we were mostly brush-free, I make good progress
down to the fence. I only had to take my pack off once!
Just after rediscovering the correct route, I came upon another cliff
that was much more exposed. I did my best to avoid the completely smooth parts and
traversed to climbers right to a turn in the fence, crossed over, and then made a
descending traverse along a narrow ledge. One more occasion of tossing my pack down, an
unfortunate hand-hold placed on a cactus, and I was down to the easiest part of the
traverse.
This stretch was largely brush-free as opposed to the dense undergrowth
and tree cover of my descent through the cliffs, however, there were more cacti on the
lower ridge. I soon came upon a very odd rock feature that actually looked like a saddle,
with the horn and all! Strangely enough, it was right in the middle of the topographic
saddle. This rock marked the beginning of my ascent up from Tobe Gap up to the summit of
the Arrowhead on Mescalero Mountain.
The next part of the climb was not technically difficult, but the
numerous cacti required some acrobatic moves on the north side of the fence; I would
definitely recommend that anyone else following this route cross over to the south side
immediately after the saddle! With only a few more scratches gained on this part, I soon
came upon a sloping meadow with dense tall grass and yellow wildflowers in bloom.
As I continued to climb, the complete stillness of the wind and the
potent sunshine which was beating down had me really burning through my water reserves.
Doing my best to stay hydrated, I had used 3 out of 5 quarts by this point in the day. I
was just a few hundred feet from the summit both horizontally and vertically, so I wasn't
too concerned by this point. I made my way through moderate terrain up to the saddle
between The Arrowhead and Apache Peak, where the route took on a very different character.
The Arrowhead is ringed on 3 sides by vertical cliffs, restricting ascent
to only one aspect. There were a series of small rock ridges coming down from the top,
blocking easy view of the route, so I simply did my best to follow the path of least
resistance. I found a narrow gully with a tree at the top, which provided an accessible
Class 3 route up to a large grassy ramp. This was definitely the crux of the ascent,
as the remainder of the way up to the top required only cross-country travel up through the
deep grass and brush. This was very much like the Wichitas!
After the two hours had passed since my summit on Mt. Livermore, I found
myself standing upon the 9th highest peak in the Lone Star State! The views all around were
amazing, so I was obliged to take a great many pictures. Jacko got out of the pack to pose
on a very disappointing summit cairn; this feature proved to me that I wasn't the first
person up here, however, I can still take solace in knowing that more people have climbed
Everest than have made their way to this airy perch! I drank my 4th quart and snacked a bit
on The Arrowhead, as I could see the descent would be no cakewalk. Little did I know just
how rugged and painful it would turn out to be...
I only spent 15 minutes on this summit since I was a little worried about
making it down before dark. Granted, it was only 2:30, but I had no clue how long it would
take to reach the Madera Canyon road, nor did I know how long the hike out the road would
be. I actually found an easier route down that would thankfully keep the difficulty at
Class 3, before getting to the rather dense, forested proposition of side-hilling down to
the 7660' mesa to the north.
Despite my expectations, the easiest hiking of the day was actually the
stretch between the peak and the mesa. I stayed as high as I could, weaving along the past
of least resistance through the brush and vines. The wildflowers were in gorgeous bloom!
Two dry creekbeds blocked my way, but they were easily enough passed high in the valley. As
the slope tapered off, honeybees and butterflies were my only companions on top of this
wild and beautiful mesa. A few faint game trails coursed like streams along the state's
highest meadow, and led me to a vantage facing directly toward Mt. Livermore.
What a view! All the pictures I've seen of Livermore have been from the
standard Bridge Gap approach, which do not do the mountain justice. The massive cliffs
rising ruggedly above the Tobe Gap drainage lead up to a pointed pinncale sitting aloof
amoung the clouds. With the wildflowers all around and their wonderful fragrances, this was
most certainly the best moment I have ever had in the mountains. I really wish that I could
fully describe it, but pictures and word both fail. Seeing a view that only a handful of
people may have ever seen is an amazing feeling!
Once in a lifetime experiences aside, I had to get back down to my tent.
My progress had been good up to this point, but as I walked along the sides of the mesa,
all I could see were cliffs. The drainage looked like a possible option, but there were at
least 4 considerable cliffs that I could see, which would be difficult to bypass. I started
to head back southwest toward the creek, but on the way, I saw a ramp that appeared to
breach the cliffs ringing the mesa!
I tried a couple of gullys, all of which ended in cliffs. Finally, I
found a Class 4 pitch leading to the ramp, but to get down it, I had to take off my pack
and toss it down. Facing in for the downclimb, I made the few moves down the face and
hopped onto the extremely brushy ramp. From the steep descent thusfar, my toes had been
banging into the fronts of my shoes and were becoming quite sore.
The route was nowhere near as benign as it looked from above. The ramp
was angled at about 30° with loose rocks held in place by brambles and vines, which made
progress extremely difficult! My hiking poles came in really handy. A few buzzards
began circling overhead, so in true Monty Python style, I cried out loudly, "I'm not dead
yet!" Just then, I scared up a massive buck who had apparently been snoozing a few feet
away from my route. He scampered by about 15 feet away from me and bounded quickly down the
slope and across the drainage over toward The Arrowhead. I wished that I could move like
that through such rough terrain!
I tip-toed along amid the talus and the vines, and ever so slowly made my
way along the ramp to a slope below the northeast side of the plateau. My feet were
absolutely killing me! With the layout of the route, I was forced to side-hill to climber's
left throughout the descent, which had my feet constantly hitting the same pressure points
in my shoes. I was certain that I had a pint or two of blood pooled up in there, but I
didn't want to mess with the likely pain of taking my boots off and getting them back on.
Instead, I took a short break to crack open my last quart of water. I had already gone
through more than a gallon, but the low humidity and the moderate heat still left me feeling
thirsty. By the time I would be back on the main Madera Canyon road, this final quart would
be long gone.
I didn't rest for too long since I was really starting to worry about
daylight given my rate of progress. I could see the road to Madera Tank about a mile away,
but I never seemed to get any closer. Deciding to give up on the prospect of side-hilling, I
now headed more or less straight down the steep, uber-brushy route. I was planning on making
it down to the creek bed, which would likely be much easier going than my current path.
Each step brought flashes of agonizing pain on the toes of both of my feet.
The utter frustration of my slow progress and the distances I still had to cover left me
feeling as if I was on my own personal Via Dolorosa. Although it seems a bit overdramatic
looking back, at the time I was truly comforted in knowing that there had been another to
walk the real Via in infinitely more pain than I was currently experiencing. I made the
decision to simply grit and bear the last steep descent off of Mescalero Mountain.
I fell several times, once tweaking my knee on a fallen tree that gave way
as I tried to cross it, but each time I just got up and kept moving. I stopped only once more
on the slope for water, and after the unenviable task of getting going again, I soon found my
way to a trail that was in the process of being cut up this high in Madera Canyon. Talk about
a sight for sore feet! The relief of being off the slope was immense, but so too was the
distance I had left to cover back to the McIvor Visitors' Center.
To make a long hike short, I made it back via the Madera Canyon Road just
as dusk was taking hold of the valley. My feet were in such terrible pain, relieved somewhat
by my lazy crossings through the cold creek waters on the route, that it had taken me much
longer than I expected to get back. As I dropped my pack, and sank into my tent to chug a
liter of much needed water, the feeling of accomplishment started to sink in. I had just been
on the least-climbed 8000-ft peak in Texas with no standard route to speak of. All of you
reading this may laugh at my sentimentality toward such a "low" peak, but the feeling of
wilderness and the pioneering adventure that I experienced just can't be conveyed through
words...
The day had truly been epic. Even as I type this report, I'm missing both
big toenails and the 4th toenail on my right foot due to this "dayhike." Although I wasn't
the first person to visit remote Mescalero Mountain, as I had hoped, I will always remember
September 30th, 2006 as one of my best days in the mountains.
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The Arrowhead as seen from the approach road in Madera Canyon
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Looking along the traverse across Tobe Gap
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Bypassing the first cliff
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Dense brush that would grow even denser
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The Arrowhead
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Looking up at Mt. Livermore from Tobe Gap
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A saddle in the saddle!
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The Class 3 pitch up the Arrowhead; its difficult to negotiate the tree with a pack on.
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Viewing Apache Peak & Brooks Mountain from The Arrowhead
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Jacko on the short summit cairn
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Apache Peak on Mescalero Mountain
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Majestic Mt. Livermore looms from the 7600' plateau
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Wildflowers bloom on Texas' highest meadow.
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The true rugged nature of the Davis Mountains is reserved for those willing to seek it!
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