Temple Crag had been on my mind since Gary first told me about it on Mt. Whitney. This time, I finally made it happen.
After a long week in the OR and a chaotic trip to California, I reached Big Pine and hiked into the serene lakes beneath Temple Crag. The wall rising above the water was breathtaking—quiet, still, and humbling.
On summit day, we set out before dawn to climb the Moon Goddess Arete—one of the classic alpine routes on Temple Crag. The route started with an icy snowfield approach, crampons required, followed by scrambling pitches that funneled us onto the main climb. The Arete itself was spectacular: weaving towers, knife-edge ridges, and endless exposure.
Although rated more moderately, we accidentally wandered into a harder variation, which spiked the challenge and demanded full focus. The climbing was a mix of solid granite sections and frustratingly loose rock that kept us alert. Tower after tower tested our patience, with clouds gathering overhead hinting at storms. Still, we committed, pushed upward, and stood on the summit plateau, gazing over turquoise alpine lakes framed by wild granite spires.
The descent was no less committing: snow crossings, one rappel, and long miles of trail back to camp. We reached just as the sun dropped behind the Sierra ridges.
The final day brought the weight of a heavy pack out and the long drive back toward Las Vegas. My body felt the strain, my knee reminded me of its fragility, but my mind held onto the beauty and grit of this route.
The Moon Goddess Arete is a reminder that alpine climbing is never just about difficulty—it’s about patience, efficiency, and being present in the wild spaces where beauty and hardship coexist.