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Sierra Club Bulletin 



and his companion, Gardner, within reach of the summit. Like many a 

 pioneer effort, this first attempt was a much more perilous adventure 

 than subsequent ascents have proved. In 1866 the region around Mount 

 Clark, or The Obelisk, as it was then usually called, was comparatively 

 unknown, and King and Gardner had little opportunity to make careful 

 plans for their route. The south side of the mountain was the most 

 accessible, and from that direction animals could be brought to within 

 a few miles of the base. They undoubtedly made a bad choice of routes 

 for the final part of their ascent, as subsequent climbers have not en- 

 countered the extreme difficulties reported by King. Although most of 

 the ascents have been made from the south side, a few climbers have 

 reached the summit from the north. With the opening up of the Merced 

 Lake region through the improvement of trails and the establishment of 

 a public camp, the route from this side should become more popular. 

 The climb can be made in a few hours from Merced Lake, and, if the 

 way be carefully chosen, it can be made without danger or difficulty. 



On the morning of July 4, 1916, I set out from the camp that had just 

 been opened by the Desmond Park Service Company at Merced Lake, 

 and crossing the river picked my way along the ledges of the opposite 

 cliff. In a few minutes I could look down upon the sparkling waters 

 of Merced Lake. After a climb of about a thousand feet I entered the 

 forested tableland that flanks Mount Clark on the north. I had no in- 

 tention of climbing the mountain that day, but only to reconnoiter and 

 plan a route for some later day. Before me now lay the choice of fol- 

 lowing the basin toward the main snow-field or of mounting the ridge 

 to the west. I chose the latter, and in a little while was on the summit 

 of the ridge. The panorama was splendid ; westward lay Yosemite Val- 

 ley, reposing in the midst of the dark- forested upland ; to the north and 

 east the bright snow-fields of the upper Merced expanded to the Sierra 

 crest; southward the ridge ran up to a sharp rocky point toward the 

 main summit. Making my way along the ridge, I reached the rocky 

 point in the course of an hour and looked down on the other side upon 

 a snowy cirque that cut deep into the side of the mountain. Beyond the 

 cirque towered the peak. It was a splendid sight; well worth a day's 

 journey in itself. 



The peak seemed very near, and I began to wonder if it were not pos- 

 sible to actually make the ascent this very day. The more I thought of 

 it the more enthusiastic I became, and I looked eagerly for the most 

 promising route. It seemed to be an easy matter to reach the main 

 snow-field by descending a little way to the ridge which lay between it 

 and the deep cirque. The snow-field must be crossed and the rocks be- 

 yond attained at as high a point as possible. There would remain some 

 two or three hundred feet of rock-climbing. If the snow was not too 

 steep and the rock-climbing too dangerous, the goal could be attained. 



In a few minutes I was on the snow and found it softer and more 

 deeply pitted than I had expected. While this made walking difficult it 



