Trip Report: July 20, 2024

Bear Creek Spire

“My fellow guide, Alex, and I took a group of four clients to attempt the North Arete of Bear Creek Spire in the Eastern Sierras. We stepped off from the trailhead around 7 AM on Saturday morning, planning to set up base camp that night at Dade Lake. It was a magnificent 5-mile hike, gaining 2,000 feet in elevation. We took our time, passing beautiful lakes, lush forests, and alpine meadows, and reached Dade Lake around 2 PM.

We found a great bivy location with flattened areas and wind blocks about 100 feet from the lake for our camp. Across the lake and up about a mile of talus field, we could see the prominent North Arete of Bear Creek Spire, which was our objective for the next day. We spent the evening shoveling in calories, playing cards, telling jokes, and checking the next day’s forecast. The forecast indicated a ten percent chance of rain for Sunday evening, so we planned to start our climb the following morning at 3:30 AM, hoping to make it down before the potential storm arrived.

On Sunday morning, the alarm went off, and I could already hear the rest of the team gathering their packs. I popped out of the tent to find the clients fully dressed and ready to go. We skirted boulders around Dade Lake and made it to the first snowfield. With crampons on and axes in hand, we trudged up the steep snow, navigating through several rocky outcroppings. As our line of six headlamps marched toward the base of the North Arete, we were greeted by an incredible sunrise and a blazing red sky, eerily foreshadowing our day (red sky in the morning).

We reached the base of the North Arete around 5:30 AM and excitedly began gearing up for the climb. We needed to carry our crampons, axes, and boots in our packs because we would use them for descending the northern slope on our way down. We began climbing by 6:30 AM. The first few pitches of technical rock climbing were a bit slow and clunky as our bodies adjusted to the elevation and as warmer blood returned to our limbs. By the third or fourth pitch, we were in direct sunlight and found ourselves settling into a good groove and pace.

The next five or so pitches were an absolute dream, allowing us to navigate incredible rock in great weather, with views of the entire Little Lakes Valley stretching ten miles back to the Owens River Valley at 13,000 feet. At the top of the eighth pitch, we had officially reached the summit ridge, and everyone was ecstatic to have made it through the most technical sections of our climb. However, we still had a lot of technical ridge to tackle; as we looked down the valley, what was a beautiful view just an hour ago transformed into dark billowing clouds heading our way. Our best option was to complete the rest of the climb quickly!

We started climbing along the ridge around noon, and pitch after pitch greeted us with multiple false summits as the sky grew darker and the wind battered our faces. By 1:30 PM, we reached the proper summit, but the rain had finally caught up with us. We hurriedly enjoyed the summit with a few wet high-fives before quickly setting up a rappel down the east side of the mountain onto a sand and boulder slope. As we made our way down the northeast ridge to the next rappel, which would bring us back down to the snowfields, the real storm began. Heavy hail pelted us painfully as we urgently set up the last rappel.

I went first and reached the end of the rope, still on steep snow terrain covered in hailstones. I quickly began cutting a standing ledge with my axe while I called up to send the rest of the team down. The first team member reached me, and I had only managed to carve out an eight-inch ledge in the ice. I continued digging as the rest of the team rappelled down to my ledge. Everyone was wet and cold by this point. I pulled the ropes, and Alex bravely soloed down the slope to join us, as I lowered the rest of the team from the cut ledge to an area where the slope eased off enough to gain purchase with our crampons.

We all made it back to the base of the climb safely, albeit cold and shivering. An overwhelming feeling of relief and accomplishment washed over us just in time for the sun to reappear. After another hour down the snowfield, we arrived back at base camp, grinning and laughing about the incredible climb and the storm we had just endured. It was an amazing trip that will be a profound lifelong memory for us all.” - Luke, Co-Founder, AMGA Rock Guide

Trip Report: 2025

Bear Creek Spire

“I was pretty nervous going into this trip. I had never done an overnight climbing trip, never climbed so many pitches in one day, never even really spent time in the Eastern Sierra, and was a new member to the group. But I had confidence in the principles Crux stands for, so I knew it would be an awesome trip with wonderful people.

We set out Saturday morning in a swirl of excitement, nerves, and sweat. With heavy packs and sweltering heat, we toiled uphill, reaching camp early and lounging by the lakeside. Spending time outdoors, under the shadow of the formidable Temple Crag, relaxed us all. But that same beauty was foreboding when we thought of being on the sheer rock face on Sunday, and I could sense some tension in the air as we all recognized the uncertainty of what was to come. Would we succeed at our objective?

Our alarms sounded early Sunday morning and we quickly set off in the dark. The camaraderie was immediate. We moved smoothly up the mountain, pitch after pitch. I felt the tension and uncertainty fall away as we settled into a rhythm. The sun rose behind us as we rested beside a potato chip flake, and we looked down on our campsite, already far below us, bathed in pink light. "It doesn't get much better than this," someone said. I couldn't agree more. 

We flew up the mountain and soon reached the notorious "4' jump (a bit scary)." It was more than a bit scary. But it made me feel so much better that everyone, including our guides Luke and Alex, admitted their fear. Seeing my teammates say they were scared and make the jump anyway gave me the confidence to take the leap. And the feeling after was that singular mix of pride, adrenaline, and joy that comes only after accomplishing something you weren't sure you could do.

We finished the climb and descended, returning to camp 13 hours after we'd left, happy and tired. Dinner that night was filled with laughter and recounting the tales of the day. Looking around, I could tell the day had been one that would stick with all of us for a long time. It made us stronger climbers, smarter teammates, and better people.” - Maya

Trip Report: June 19–22, 2026

Matterhorn Peak

“On June 19, I joined a group of fellow veterans for a Crux alpine climbing trip to Matterhorn Peak. Our team included our guides, Luke and Ben, along with Ed, Ryan, and me. Aside from knowing Luke through previous Crux clinics, we were essentially strangers when the trip began.

Starting at Twin Lakes, we hiked approximately four miles and gained nearly 3,000 feet before reaching our campsite at 9,812 feet. The approach followed rushing snowmelt through the forest before opening into an alpine landscape of granite, wildflowers, and snow-covered peaks. Our tents sat in a beautiful meadow beneath Matterhorn, giving us a constant view of the challenge ahead.

The following day, Luke and Ben taught us essential snow-climbing skills. I put on crampons for the first time and learned how to use an ice axe, build snow anchors, and self-arrest. Later, most of the team attempted a nearby granite spire, which they jokingly named “Mr. Hands.” I had been rock climbing for less than a year and had never completed a multipitch route or climbed snow. After discussing our options, I chose to ascend the West Couloir with Ben and scramble up the back side of Matterhorn. Luke, Ed, and Ryan would climb the more technical North Arete. Although the couloir better matched my experience, its steep line of snow cutting through the granite still looked incredibly intimidating from camp.

Our alarms went off at 3:00 a.m. on June 21. We gathered our equipment and began moving through the darkness beneath the narrow beams of our headlamps. As the sun rose, its first light turned Matterhorn’s granite walls a brilliant orange while the snowfields remained in shadow. I remember repeatedly saying that I could not believe how beautiful everything was. My nervousness quieted, and I became completely present in the moment. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. After crossing a broad, snow-covered bowl, our team separated. The others headed toward the North Arete while Ben and I approached the West Couloir. Wearing crampons, carrying two ice axes each, and connected by a rope, we began climbing between the towering granite walls.

We worked through several pitches, planting our axes into the steep snow and using them almost like the rungs of a ladder. When we reached the back side of the mountain, we accidentally got off route and encountered terrain that was more difficult and exposed than expected. I became frightened and overwhelmed, but Ben remained calm and in control. He gave me time to breathe before guiding us through a rappel to safer terrain. Once we were secure, he asked whether I wanted to continue. Although I was still shaken, his steady presence helped me regain my confidence, and I knew I was not finished.

After some careful searching, we found the correct route. Near the top, I looked up and saw the rest of our team waiting on the summit. They had finished the North Arete about an hour earlier but needed the ice axes we were carrying for the snowy descent. Seeing them brought an enormous sense of relief. Ben and I reached the summit at approximately 1:30 p.m., and standing there together felt like both a personal accomplishment and a shared victory for our team. The descent led us through loose scree and back onto the snow.

We finally returned to camp around 3:30 that afternoon. After resting, we gathered for dinner and exchanged stories from our two routes. The people who had begun the trip as strangers now shared an experience none of us would soon forget. Matterhorn Peak taught me about alpine climbing, partnership, and perseverance. I left proud of what I had accomplished and grateful to Crux for giving us the opportunity to challenge ourselves, support one another, and discover what we are capable of doing.” - Rebecca