It has been three long years since my Nevada county highpoints project sort of ground to a halt, although not deliberately. In 2002, I climbed 6 Nevada counties in a six-week period and put me just three counties away from completing the state. My folks live in Nevada and my dad and I enjoy trips into the interior, so it seemed fait accompli that I'd finish the three left in short order. Well, things happened and I just haven't got around to them like I would have preferred! My last Nevada county peak was Mount Rose in Washoe County, ironically exactly three years ago to the day that I found myself preparing to tackle the highpoint of Lincoln County. I wanted to get some momentum going again, and asked Bill Jacobs and Rick Hartman, both of Prescott, if they'd be interested. They were, and we set up to meet on this weekend for a hearty full-day hike of the Grafton Peaks.

First, some details about the range and the county highpoint. Mount Grafton is an immediate local highpoint of the lengthy Schell Creek Range, which runs a hundred or so miles north-south in eastern Nevada's Lincoln and White Pine Counties. There are actually peaks higher than Grafton in the Schells, but the range itself seems to encompass a series of smaller ranges, divided by low passes - low enough, to me, to suggest that maybe the ranges should be named differently from a physical and geographical standpoint. Regardless, Mount Grafton does have one superlative to its credit: it is the highest point of all the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) lands in the United States (although Ibapah Peak in Utah may supercede this). Grafton's summit lies in White Pine County. To its south about a mile is a sub-peak reaching up to 10,802 feet. It is on this sub-peaks' southern ridge over which the White Pine-Lincoln County line runs, giving Lincoln County its highest point of elevation at roughly 10,660 feet. Another mile to the south of Peak 10,802 is Peak 10,562, which may be the highest peak within Lincoln County. The three peaks are connected by a series of ridges and saddles. No trails enter into this range, and hikers are few (mainly county highpoint headcases like Bill, Rick and me), although hunters come here relatively often, seeking the area's trophy elk as a prize.

As we got closer to the hike I asked my dad if he'd like to come along as base-camp manager. He immediately accepted. It wasn't a difficult decision for him as he likes to hunt, explore, look for arrowheads, scout the animals, and generally enjoy the solitude of the remote Nevada interior. I flew into Las Vegas on a friday morning, had my dad pick me up, and after a few minutes at my folks' place we got moving. Wildfires were raging in the area and the air was heavy with smoke and haze, and as we traveled north along US-93 into Lincoln County, the haze got even thicker from a massive set of fires near St. George, Utah. But, as we passed through the town of Pioche and descended into the interminable vastness of the Great Basin, the haze subsided and we had relatively clear air and views, all things considered. I was relieved to know that at least our intended hiking route wasn't consumed in fire. After over 240 miles of driving from Henderson, we came to the Lincoln-White Pine County Line sign. To our east was a set of buildings belonging to the Geyser Creek Ranch and to our west, the grand visage of Grafton and its neighbors. We entered onto a scant two-track road just south of the county boundary and went west 4 miles along increasingly bumpy and rocky road to its usable end and a flat spot amid pinion and juniper trees at the mouth of Mill Creek Canyon, elevation 7,600 feet. A perfect camp spot, with wreckage of an old mine building nearby. We got in about 2 p.m., and made some exploratory hikes. Bill and Rick rolled up around 4 p.m. and we all sat around that evening shooting the breeze. Winds were moderate but not bad, and the temperatures were comfortable. We turned in around 9 p.m.

We arose around 4:30 a.m. the next morning and got ready, starting up into the range at 5:15 as the sun was low in the sky and still shielded by the ranges across the valley. The air was clear but we could still see the haze of smoke from the south, although the winds for now were keeping it from us directly. After some vascillating on route selection we decided to stay high early and follow a series of ridgepoints up to the main ridge instead of battling the trees and brush by staying low in Mill Creek Canyon. We hiked the remains of the old road as it switchbacked a few times up a moderate slope before straightening out below a bare slope of sage and grass. At this point we left the road and walked up this sage and grass slope toward a thicket of mahogany. We entered into the trees and wound our way up to a small knob of rocks at 9,015 feet elevation, where we took our first break. In just about an hour we'd covered maybe a mile of walking with 1,400 feet of gain. The weather started to get breezy with a mix of clouds, and unfortunately, whiffs of smoke from the distant fires. Our next point, shown on the map as a knob at 9,685 feet, was just to our west. We crossed a grassy saddle and started up the slopes, and again, in fairly short order, had gained the 670 feet to arrive onto this next hump. The trees were a bit thicker here and we also encountered our first bits of remnant snow. Nevertheless it was about 7:30 a.m. and we'd already picked up 2,100 feet of vertical. Not too bad.

Once into the open at this second knob we could spy the remaining 900 feet needed to get onto peak 10,562, which sits astride the main range crest. Looking to our north we could also see Peak 10,802, on whose southern slope sits the Lincoln County highpoint. And peeking (peaking?) out from behind it was Mount Grafton, still a ways to the north. The three of us started to grunt up this last stretch, with a plan to hike up about two-thirds the way up then veer right and traverse beneath the summit of Peak 10,562 and make a bee-line toward the saddle. The snow patches were bigger and thicker up here, especially on these north-facing slopes, and it made for some slow going. Rick stayed low while Bill and I trended higher, mainly to avoid the snow. It was usually soft enough to walk across but I kept postholing and was afraid of posting into some rocks and busting my ankle. I eventually found myself just a few feet below Peak 10,562 and decided to make a short side trip to say hi. I walked the summit's top, tapped the cairn and returned to the main action. This peak might be the highest peak within Lincoln County. Bill was below me working his way down the snow slopes, and I followed him. Going downhill was fun and we thrust-stepped down onto the saddle, where the snow lightened a bit. We met up with Rick and took another breather.

Next on the immediate agenda was the easy hike up the southern shoulder of Peak 10,802. Somewhere here crosses the Lincoln County line and the county's highpoint. We found a cairn amid talus blocks not far below the summit of Peak 10,802, and signed in. Mostly county highpointers! But previous visitors claimed the cairn might be a bit high so to be sure we walked the spine of the ridge down below to be sure we crossed the magical boundary at some indeterminate point in time. Lincoln County Highpoint was now in the books.

From here we climbed the remaining 120 feet to top out on Peak 10,802, the started a long traverse/descent on its west face amid giant talus to come out onto the ridge connecting this peak and Mount Grafton. Weather concerns started to mount as the clouds seemed to be collecting and the wind stayed strong. We'd heard one thunder boom from a distance as well as having some very brief snow (it didn't stick). Nevertheless we hustled to Mount Grafton, arriving onto its top at about 10:30 a.m. where we again rested and shook hands. Up to now we'd covered about 5 or 6 miles and nearly 4,000 feet of gross gain, and I was pretty beat. I didn't stay up top long and started the descent. We reconvened at the low-point of the saddle connecting Grafton with Peak 10,802, re-ascended Peak 10,802 and descended its south shoulder (visiting the county highpoint again). We opted against following our ascent route out, although in non-snow conditions I think I might have gone ahead and retraced my steps. The snow, however, was just too wearisome to deal with and our curiosity about the lower canyon route got the better of us. After another short break we started down, descending onto the saddle between peaks 10,802 and 10,562. Looking east we could barely make out camp and our two vehicles in a small open clearing amid the trees. We were a good 2,800 feet above it. Time was a-wasting so we got moving quickly.

We descended the steep sage slopes of the upper canyon headwall before entering into fairly thick pine and oak tree cover. We usually followed the path of least resistance, but often had to battle thick brush, downed limbs and sloppy footing. The snow banks were minimal and eventually disappeared as we descended. We wanted to stay to the south of Mill Creek itself so as to not have to cross it as it was flowing pretty fast. Eventually we found ourselves very low in the canyon, unable to see for any distances due to the thick forest cover, and occasionally being able to glimpse two cliff bands to our south that we used for reckoning aids. We came upon a gushing spring - water literally bursting forth from the earth in a torrent (something I'd never seen before), and for the last bits of the hike out we followed Mill Creek. occasionally stepping over little creeks feeding into it, and often having to wiggle our way through, up and around the various obstacles. Further on we found ourselves pretty much outside the mouth of the canyon and could again recognize landmarks. Through a bit of luck and a hunch we found our road and shortly made the trek back to camp, arriving about 2:30 p.m. as my dad, the base camp manager, was walking up for some exercise. After changing into drier clothes and relaxing a bit we all shook hands and recounted our tales of bravery and heroism up on the mountain. Bill and Rick decided to return to Prescott directly while my pop and I drove up the 50 miles north to our favorite Eastern Nevada town, Ely. We conked by 8 p.m. and slept out of utter exhaustion. The next day we drove back the 280 miles to Vegas, where I visited with my folks and friends before flying back to Phoenix that evening.

Thanks, as always, to my teammates Bill and Rick for the company, route-finding and enthusiasm, and thanks to my dad for readily signing on to manage camp and have his own bit of fun in the woods.