On the advice of counsel, I went big on White Mountain. As it turns out a bit bigger than I planned on.
I have been toying with the idea of making a human powered assault on nearby peaks. This would most likely involve biking from my house to the trailhead, and then up the peak on foot. White Mountain has an old jeep road all the way to the summit and I actually rode up there when I was a guinea pig at Barcroft Station in 2001. I remembered the top part wasn't really worth biking, but otherwise it didn't seem so bad. I actually made a half-hearted attempt at this last year but turned back at the crooked creek turnoff. A number of factors came together to spur me into action. I had recently discussed this idea with someone else, it was a full moon (actually the night before), the days were long, Ryan's plan to "do hard things" inspired me, and finally Willow (the counsel) said I needed to go big to train up for an impending visit. She said "why not?" - I can think of lots of reasons why not, but I silenced them and went for it.
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I departed a little before 4 am and was well up Silver Canyon before sunrise. I managed to ride up to where it becomes a serious 4wd road. Then it was just too steep and I switched out my shoes and mostly walked up the hill. I did ride a few less steep parts, but walking predominated. 9:30 I was at the top of Silver Canyon. This was nearly 1/2 way in distance and more than half the up I thought, so it seemed like things were going well. Actually it was only about 15 miles (out of 34 one way), and although I had gone from a low of just over 4,000 feet to over 10,400 feet, I still had a lot more up and down and more up on the way to 14,252 feet (4344 M).
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I turned left on White Mtn Road and went past my previous high point from last year's ride. The views of the Sierra to the west were stunning. There was a lot more up (and some down) to be had. I just kept grinding along. When my butt and feet were tired of pedaling and it was really steep I walked a bit, I kept making progress, but not as quickly as the time was passing. Somewhere along here the bars I had no longer seemed appetizing. I had been eating steadily up to here, but it was a struggle to keep eating after this except for sport beans and gummy worms. I should have brought more "real" food. I passed Barcroft Station on the way up around 2:30. Unfortunately when I had previously been up White Mountain I was both fresh and acclimated. This time I was neither. The previous 9,000 feet of climbing had taken their toll. I was still moving, but not quickly. I left the bicycle at another spot where the trail headed uphill and was rocky. I probably should have taken it a bit farther, but my butt and thighs were sick of it. At this point there was a biting cold wind and I put on the rest of my clothes (a long underwear top and wind shell and thin nylon wind pants) - along with the balaclava, long sleeved top, and bike shorts and gloves I was already wearing. It was fine for hiking uphill in the sun in the afternoon, but did not bode well for the future. I really should have brought more like I usually do, but I wanted to be fast and light - I guess I was light at least.
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Off the bicycle it was nice to walk freely, and my pack was very light since I was wearing nearly everything that had been in it. I still wasn't moving very quickly, but I was still moving. I passed a small herd of bighorn sheep on the way up. They were pretty unconcerned and I was able to take a bunch of pics. Unfortunately for the pictures I just had my point and shoot. Finally I made it to the summit a little before 6 pm - 14 hours after I left - to put that in perspective Bing directions says you can walk there in 11 hours and 39 minutes - I don't think they take elevation into account though. I didn't spend long on the summit, it was cold and windy, and I had miles to go.
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I actually made pretty good time descending. Gravity and the wind were both assisting me and I managed the old man shuffle jog for all the steeper parts and a fast walk on the others. I quickly switched back into bike shoes and headed back down and then up the trail. Once again the stiff north wind was both assisting and hurting me. The boost was nice, but the frozen fingers were not. Especially on the downhill where I needed to be able to work the brakes. I stopped at Barcroft station to fill up my water bottle and see if I could find some plastic bags or something to block the wind from my hands. Steven saw me looking in a trash can (sadly just full of dead mice) and got me some bags. When he heard what I was doing he very kindly offered me his gloves and said I could return them in his mailbox. That act probably kept this whole outing in the upper realms of type II fun instead of careening off the cliff into type III fun - which could involve frostbite and hypothermia, but would probably make for a good story later - much later.
By now it was nearly sunset, but I had gloves and water so I was good to go. I made very good time on the downhills and the uphills were not all that long (mostly) and I had a good tailwind pushing me. Once it got a little darker I put on the headlamp - which promptly started fading. I had cleverly put 2 sets of freshly charged spare batteries into my pack though, so I put them into a pocket to keep warm and switched them out when the light was unusable. The one really steep paved downhill was too scary to bomb without good visibility, so I didn't go all that fast (I had hit 47 or so MPH coasting on this hill in 2001). The front brake started making unhappy noises (like the pad might be worn out) - this was the first of an unpleasant trend in brake performance. Fresh batteries really helped, although with the headlamp it was still hard to discern the washboard ahead - at least I could see if there was less to the sides when I hit it, and I could see larger rocks in the road.
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Somewhere along here the very orange moon rose above Nevada to my left. It didn't really help visibility for a while, but it was nice to know it was there in case my headlamp died and I ended up walking home all night. Finally I made it up the last nearly 800 foot hill and then to the Silver Canyon turnoff. At first the Silver Canyon road wasn't too bad, but as the front brake got worse (screachier noises and less braking action) I used the rear brake more - and it felt mushier and also stopped less. This was not a good trend. I tightened the rear brake a bit and took frequent stops to let the brakes cool. I even walked a few bits while I was waiting. When I went down this last year I think I did the descent in around 10 minutes going quite quickly and alternating brakes and stopping only to let my hands recover. At night I couldn't see nearly as far ahead and I wanted to be able to stop within the range of what I could see - with my reduced stopping power I didn't go all that fast - it took me about an hour for the 4wd part. I did make it down eventually to the 2wd part of the canyon road. There I went a little faster, but the back brake was gradually becoming nearly useless (in hindsight I think I needed to adjust the stationary pad towards the rotor - basically the moving one was pushing against the rotor, but it was barely reaching the stationary pad. The front brake had that problem too, combined with a severely worn pad. Finally I made it out of the canyon and onto the paved road. It wasn't as cold down here either, although I didn't unzip or remove any layers until I was about a mile from home. A strong N wind helped push me for a while, but then it was a crosswind for the final leg up East Line Street. Finally I made it home to dazedly shovel some food and drink down my throat, take a shower, and collapse into bed. I got back just before 1 am - 21 hours after I had left. I guess I managed to chew everything I bit off, but it took a lot, and induced nausea.
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