Order of Visit: Unsuccessful Attempt
Date Visited: August 13, 2022
Route Taken: Boundary Peak Trail from the Boundary Trailhead – 9 miles round-trip
Type of Terrain: A mix of unmaintained trail, cross-country through sagebrush, and hiking up steep scree and talus fields
Elevation: 13,140 feet
Ancestral Lands: Numu (Northern Paiute), Western Mono, Eastern Mono, Western Shoshone
WHAT’S IN A NAME?
Sitting at the northern end of the White-Inyo mountain range, Boundary Peak gets its descriptive name from its proximity to the California-Nevada border. Nevada’s highest summit is just 1,500 feet inside the state’s boundary, while its 300-foot taller neighbor, Montgomery Peak, rests above it on the same ridge just over the California side of the border.
One might assume this origin of this peak’s descriptive name is rather simple, but Nevada’s history with its state borders is anything but straightforward. In fact, conflicts between the Silver State and the Golden State over their shared boundary lasted for more than a 130 years.
The border dispute initially began when California achieved statehood in 1850. California’s western border was easy to establish. It directly followed the coastline of the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, it’s eastern border is an anomaly in American geography. Rather than creating a “square” state like many of its contemporaries in the West, California became a long and narrow state taking up roughly two-thirds of the western coastline.
To create this effect, the upper portion the state’s eastern border was drawn as a straight line along the 120th degree of longitude – right through the middle of Lake Tahoe and continuing north up to the Oregon Territory. These created a baseline width for the state, and then the remainder of the eastern border was drawn to oblique angle down to the Colorado River that mimicked the general curve to the Pacific coastline.
As a result, the line between California and Nevada is often referred to as Nevada’s “floating” western boundary. As one might expect, this new invisible border on the map made little sense to the settlers in nearby Reno, who felt the distinct crest of the Sierra Nevada Mountains was a far more logical and easy-to-distinguish border.
Making matters more confusing, no one seemed to be able to accurately survey and mark the border either. Between 1855 and 1900, six separate surveys attempted to locate the 120th-degree meridian – with differing results shifting the California-Nevada border back and forth by as much as three miles. Congress eventually accepted the line surveyed by Alexey Von Schmidt in 1872.
With the aspect of the boundary settled, sights shifted to the 400-mile long oblique border running from Lake Tahoe down to the Colorado River — a terrain feature that would, itself, naturally shift over time and lead to even more interstate squabbles.
Residents living along this “floating” boundary had to resort to creative solutions. For example, just 35 miles north of where Nevada’s state high point sits, the frontier town of Aurora simultaneously served as the seat for two different counties – one situated in California and the other in Nevada!
After years of misgivings over the accuracy of the the Von Schmidt line, Congress eventually appropriated funds in 1892 for a new survey of the oblique border between the two states where Boundary Peak sits. Both states eventually adopted the new survey conducted by the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.
Yet, even a Congressionally-funded and approved survey didn’t end the matter between the two states. California brought a suit against Nevada in Federal Court in 1977 to decide the fate of 11,000 disputed acres and “definitively” quiet any doubts to the geographic accuracy of their shared boundary.
The U.S. Supreme Court resolved the issue once and for all in 1980, deciding that the Von Schmidt line (north of Lake Tahoe) and the USCGS survey line (on the states’ oblique border) were the official recognized boundaries between the two parties. And so, Boundary Peak’s name serves to remind us that even simple things can be quite complex.
TRIP SUMMARY
Boundary Peak is the high point that seems to continuously elude me…
I initially planned to summit Nevada’s high point during our travels through Reno in 2020, but a personal situation forced us to detour to Death Valley instead, and my visit to the high point never happened.
I wasn’t too broken up about missing out though because I knew the Highpointers Convention was supposed to be held in Bishop, California (just 35 miles south of Boundary Peak) in 2021. Postponing my summit would give me the opportunity to climb it with some fellow highpointers. Or so I thought…
The pandemic forced the 2021 convention be cancelled, and then wildfires in August and September made the the air quality just too abyssmal for me to consider a solo hike. So, I detoured to Colorado’s Mt. Elbert instead and shoved Boundary Peak onto my 2022 dance card.
My plans to visiting Boundary Peak in 2022 turned an epic fail too (for the third time, if you’re counting…). I had a narrow window over Labor Day weekend to visit this high point, but then I contracted Covid in mid-August 2022, and I just wasn’t feeling physically up to aggressively pushing my lungs on a 13,000-foot peak immediately afterward.
It was becoming abundantly clear, I just didn’t seem to have any luck with getting my butt to Nevada tick this high point off my list. But once 2023 rolled around, I could no longer afford to delay. I only had four outstanding state HPs on left my list: Alaska, Washington, Montana, and Nevada.
- Alaska definitely wasn’t happening this year;
- I’d already booked my second attempt for Mt. Rainier in late June 2023;
- I booked a second guided trip for Granite Peak for the end of August 2023;
- All that was left was to figure out when to squeeze in Boundary Peak…
And so, my teenage son (Finn) and I decided to take a roadtrip to hike Boundary Peak in mid-August to finally put this long-awaited high point to bed. Everything seemed to be falling into place nicely. 2023 was going to be my year!!
We arrived in Bishop, California, on a Saturday afternoon and set up our little basecamp in a local hotel. We had our hiking gear. We had snacks. And we had a plan to head to the trailhead early on Sunday morning so we could beat the worst of the mid-August heat and get back to Bishop before dark.
Yet the small red flags that Boundary Peak would once again elude me started to wave that evening. The afternoon had been warm and sunny but there was a 30% chance of rain on Saturday evening. The forecast must have been an understatement though because we could see heavy black clouds hovering over the Sierra Nevadas as we walked to dinner.
We barely made it back to our hotel that evening as the wind picked up and the first few fat raindrops began to hit the hot pavement. And the next several hours saw a deluge of heavy rain. It was so heavy, and the wind was so strong, that I even braved the elements to run out to the car and move it over 6 parking spaces so it wasn’t under any large trees. The last thing I needed was a giant tree branch crashing through my windshield!
The rain ended around midnight, put puddles of water pooled in the parking lot when we loaded up the car in the dark the next morning. The day’s forecast looked cloudy, cool, and rain-free. But who knew how much the heavy rains impacted the trail. Heck our long-sleeved sun hoodies might actually become a warming layer instead protection from the sun’s brutal rays .
The drive in the dark up US Highway 6 toward the Nevada border was fairly easy. There were few cars or trucks on the road at this hour. But our early hour meant we also couldn’t see the White Mountains as we paralleled them, or the small field of snow clinging to them from this epically high snow year.
In getting to Boundary Peak, I knew we could begin from two different trailheads:
- The Queen Mine Trailhead is located near Benton, California. This trailhead requires visitors to depart the highway and then travel 7 miles down a dirt road. From the trailhead, the route to the summit follows a well-defined trail for 4 miles with approximately 3,270 feet of vertical gain.
- The Trail Canyon Trailhead is located further east into Nevada. Getting to this trailhead from NV-274 requires visitors to travel 15 miles down a dirt road (double the distance of the other route). The route up to the summit from the trailhead is slightly shorter at 3.5 miles (each way), but it is steeper and less defined, with 4,160 feet of vertical gain.
Unfortunately, my prior research revealed that I wouldn’t be taking the preferred Queen Mine Trailhead. Thanks to some major erosion after bad weather, the road was impassible to all but the sturdiest of 4×4 vehicles. I’d have to head to the Trail Canyon Trailhead instead.
Some rain sprinkles hit my windshield as I passed the turn off for Queen Mine, and then the highway began to climb into the curvy foothills up toward Montgomery Pass (elevation 7,167′). Just as we crested the pass, the sunrise unfolded in front of us in the most vibrant pinks and oranges and I had to pull over to stop an capture the moment .
Soon thereafter, I was turning right onto NV-264 and heading south for the final 8.4 paved miles before making the final turn on Trail Canyon Road. Trail Canyon Road was the slowest part of our journey, with an hour of driving on a rough dirt road through sagebrush, up hills, and past old mining camps with signs warning us not to enter certain areas due to his concentrations of mercury.
The more ominous sign though was the bright yellow sign warning visitors not to travel through the area during inclement weather. I assumed that meant during snow and heavy rains, and wondered if last night’s rains were sufficient to impact our drive.
In the end though, only two factors seemed to hold us up. The road itself was slow (as most dirt roads tend to be), but it was in perfectly fine condition. Yet there were a few places where the thick brush growing on either side was so overgrown that I visibly cringed when I heard the sound of it branches scraping on both sides of my SUV’s glossy paint coat.
And there were cows along the route. They didn’t seem to know they were supposed to stick to their grazing areas, and provided a little morning congestion on the drive. I felt like a cowboy herding them up the road until we got to an area wide enough they could maneuver out of my way.
Two hours after we left the hotel in the dark, we finally made it to the Boundary Peak / Trail Canyon trailhead. And much to my surprise, two other vehicles were already parked there! Finn and I wouldn’t be out here all alone after all.
A faint trail led into tall brush and trees and toward Trail Creek, and a small podium with a trail register sat perched beside our intended route. At first the trail was easy to follow as it crisscrossed the creek, but the deeper we went the more overgrown it seemed to be.
After about 1.5 miles, we emerged from the green trees beside the trail and could see the sand-colored hills and peaks up ahead of us. The trail continued through sagebrush as a flat open space unfolded, and our legs felt like they were getting scraped up more and more with each step.
We’d made the mistake of coming out there in shorts because we’d assumed the Nevada sun would be scorching hot in mid-August. But today’s cloud cover kept it cool, and the real challenge was all the prickly things that wanted to scrape our skin as we walked through the landscape. In hindsight, I wish we’d worn long pants (or at least knee-length gaiters) because we ended up with scraped-up shins that it looked we got into a fight with a pack of feral cats.
A weathered wooden sign welcomed us to the Boundary Peak Wildernss part of the Inyo National Forest, and confirmed that we were generally in the right area. But we still couldn’t quite see Boundary Peak itself.
Instead, we focused on the low saddle directly to our west. We we reached 10,000 feet elevation, there seemed to be two possible routes for us to take. We could:
- Continue following the faint trail toward the steep tan-colored slope beside Boundary Peak and climb 2,000 vertical feet in scree and loose rocks ; or
- Take our chances and forge our own cross-country route through the sagebrush and up the ravine leading to the low saddle a mere 800 vertical feet above us.
The second option seemed to be the better bet. It appeared to be physically easier, and once we made our way up to the saddle, we should be able to join up with the existing trail from the Queen Mine Trailhead.
During our cross-country travel I could hear Finn huffing and puffing behind me with effort. Two days ago the kid was at home (less than 500 feet above elevation) playing on his computer, and now he was in Nevada trying to hike to the summit of a 13,140-foot peak.
We stopped for our first break about halfway up the ravine, resting near the trunks of some gnarled looking bristlecone pine trees. As we took in water and ate a snack, we turned east to survey the landscape below us. It was a rugged beauty and so much greener than I’d expected for the Nevada desert.
Gray clouds blocked out most of the sun’s warmth though, and after 10 minutes, I was eager to get moving again to stay warm. But that’s about when Finn started to complain that the high elevation was affecting him. He didn’t have a headache (yet), but he was definitely short of breath, fatigued, and felt a bit nauseated at this elevation.
Despite this minor symptoms, we decided to continue hiking upward and eventually made it to the top of the saddle at 10,800 feet, where we were greeted with a genuine trail once again!
From this vantage point, we could see the snow-covered Sierra Nevadas in the distance to our west. But those epic views weren’t what dominated our attention. Instead, we stared over at the curtain of heavy rain that was coming down from dark clouds nearby.
I tried to reassure Finn that the rain wasn’t likely to hit us. Most of the inclement weather moves from west to east in this part of the state. That storm system was already to our northeast. It would probably continue moving toward the interior of Nevada and leave us completely alone…at least I hoped.
And so, we started up the steep scree, rock, and dirt path that rose to the unnamed peak just to the north. As we slowing ascended it, zigzagging back and forth on barely visible switchbacks, Finn began to grumble. He was getting irritable and his head hurt from the high elevation. Every 100 vertical feet we gained seemed to hurt his chest making it harder to breath. The wind was picking up and he was cold.
When we eventually reached the 3-mile point near 11,800 feet, he called out to me to stop. He couldn’t go any further. He just felt too bad.
I looked down at my GPS to check our position. We still had nearly a mile to go yet and another 1,000 vertical feet to climb. If he felt lousy enough to stop here, there was no possible way he was going to make it to the summit. What should we do now?
Should I have him sit down and rest here while I continued (solo) on to tag the summit? Would he feel better off dropping back down in elevation to the saddle? Or should we both just turn back and end the climb altogether?
I asked Finn what he preferred, and he said he just needed to sit there. He urged me to go on. He didn’t want to be the reason I didn’t get to the summit. But there was just no physical way he could continue. He felt too crummy.
Together we found Finn a flat spot to sit beside a large boulder, and I got him tucked in away from the wind. Just as I started to walk away, I felt the first raindrops hit my arms. A few steps further and thunder cracked above us. Finn called out to me not to go. We were above treeline and he was worried this wasn’t safe – for either of us. Last night’s thunderstorm brought lightening and what if lightening was part of this storm too? And so I turned back and told him to follow me. We were heading back to the trailhead.
Just as I made that decision to retreat, the sky opened up and the rain began to fall in earnest. We were getting soaked. That rainstorm I’d hoped to avoid shifted toward us, and it was time to get off the mountain. We were aborting our adventure and heading back to the car.
It felt bittersweet to make it that far up Boundary Peak only to have to turn back, but right now we needed to play it safe. The bad weather and Finn’s mild AMS symptoms definitely made turning back the smart thing to do. Part of being a parent is modeling good choices and behaviors for your child. The mountain would still be there tomorrow, next month, or next year and I could always try it again.
DETAILS
When to Visit: This high point is usually covered with snow for several months of the year. The most popular time to hike to the summit is June to October.
Getting There: Boundary Peak is located in a remote area along the California/Nevada border approximately 200 miles south of Reno. It sits within the least populated county in the entire state, and the closest town with full amenities is Bishop, CA (about 50 miles to the southwest).
Fees/Permits: None. However, Boundary Peak sits within Inyo National Forest, so if you camp at or near the trailhead: (1) all food must be stored in bear-resistant canisters, and (2) a California campfire permit is needed to build a campfire.
Parking: There are two trailheads used to hike up Boundary Peak:
- Queen Canyon Trailhead (located 7 miles from U.S. Hwy 6); and
- Trail Canyon Trailhead (located 14 miles from NV Route 264).
Both trailheads are on the northeast side of the mountain and a high-clearance vehicle is strongly recommended because of the long dirt access roads to each one. There are no toilets or water sources at either trailhead.
Accessibility: Although not a technical climb, Boundary Peak is a high altitude peak that requires strong physical endurance and route finding skills. Hikers will ascend 3,400′ in just 4.5 miles and the route between the the saddle to the summit is unmarked, which causes many hikers to get off track.
Bonus: The trailhead for Boundary Peak is just 120 miles from Whitney Portal. So if this hike doesn’t wipe you out physically, you have the option to hike up Mt. Whitney during the same highpointing visit to the region. Information about hiking the Mt. Whitney Trail is available HERE.
Resources:
- An Overview of Boundary Peak (Summit Post)
- Boundary Peak Trailhead (U.S. Forest Service)
- Boundary Peak Map with Routes (USFS)
