Six hours after I set off from the trailhead, I step up onto the summit of Longs Peak at 8:04 a.m. on Sunday, 18 July 2010. The weather is absolutely perfect— bright sunshine, so warm that I’m perfectly comfortable in my shorts & long-sleeve t-shirt, and (most appreciated) there’s not a breath of wind.
I shed my pack, get the camera out, and look around the summit. There’s one other guy nearby, over by the large boulder that is the actual 14,259-foot high point up here, and then there are four other guys who are coming back over this way from the western side of Longs’ HUGE summit cap. What a difference from my hike in 2008, when there must have been thirty people already up here when I topped out on the summit.
Most folks stay congregated around the eastern end of the summit, and that’s what I did on my last visit here, but today I resolve to make a complete circuit of the summit cap. This is no small undertaking, as the flat summit covers several acres of broken, jumbled rocks. It’s like a mini Boulder Field. My counter-clockwise tour of the summit takes quite a while, but I’m so glad I do it. The views in every direction are breathtaking. This is the top of the world in Rocky Mountain National Park and northern Colorado.
Back over on the eastern end of the summit, I finally sit down to rest. I’m astounded to see an hour has passed since I first stepped up onto the summit. I dig out my cell phone and turn it on. I see I have a weak signal, so I try to send my wife a text message, letting her know I made it to the summit safely and am about to start back down. The text goes through— yeah!
I probably only spend five minutes actually sitting down & resting on the summit and then I make my way back over to the top of the Homestretch. Making it to the summit of Longs Peak via the Keyhole Route is quite an accomplishment, but I know I’ve only completed half the journey. I still have to get back to the trailhead safe & sound. Going down the Homestretch, across the Narrows, negotiating the Trough, and taking the Ledges back to the Keyhole all will pose their own challenges, so I tell my tired self to take my time and be safe.
On the Hometretch, the joke is that a person goes up the cliff on all fours, and down it on all threes. And, really, the easiest way to make it down a few tricky spots is on the seat of your pants. About halfway down the Homestretch, I meet a guy who is on his way up and see he’s wearing a Steelers cap. I have on a Steelers shirt, so we each recognize a kindred spirit and stop for a few minutes to chat about football. When he finds out I took my Terrible Towel to the summit, he kicks himself for not thinking to bring his on the hike.
Back down at the base of the Homestretch, I have to wait for several people to come up over the small chockstone before I can descend onto the Narrows. Once I’m out on the Narrows, there are a couple of times I meet people who are ascending and we have to carefully make way for each other. I take quite a few pics as I recross this section of the route. It's interesting to watch people traverse the Narrows. Most people are visibly a bit leery of the exposure, but are doing their best not to let it get to them. Some people, though, just stroll along like they’re out for a walk in the park. Well, I guess technically they are walking in The Park.
When I get to the chockstone at the top of the Trough, I again have to wait for people who are coming up. Then, when there’s a break in the action, I scoot down to the left on that narrow, eroded ledge I mentioned in my previous post.
Descending the Trough is, in its own way, just as not-fun as going up it. Going down is definitely quicker, but my quads are getting quite a workout as I carefully descend the steep slope, making sure each step is firmly planted in the loose stone & trying not to send any rocks tumbling downhill. (Mostly from descending the Homestretch, the Trough, & the Boulder Field, on Monday my quads will feel like someone had beaten them with a baseball bat.)
Exiting the Trough and getting back onto the firm footing of the Ledges is a relief. I take special care to follow the bulls-eyes all the way back to the Keyhole. There's a crucial point where the bulls-eyes take me on a sharp descent & if I miss this, I'll end-up ascending off-route toward the False Keyhole. Both times I've done this hike, I've seen people fail to go down here and go up instead, despite the bulls-eyes and a bright red sign close by that says “KEYHOLE” with an arrow pointing down.
Popping back through the Keyhole, I take a quick break to remove my gloves and stow them in my pack. On both hikes, I brought along my light cycling gloves and they’ve saved my hands a lot of wear & tear on the scrambling/climbing sections of the route. In fact, on both hikes, I’ve had folks see them and say they wish they would’ve thought to bring gloves to wear on those sections.
On the way down, it seems as if a lot of folks like to take an extended rest break just after exiting the Keyhole. There in the upper part of the Boulder Field, there are tired people lounging around, laughing, eating… but I just want to get through this part and back down onto the “real” trail, so I press on. My plan is to take an extended rest break down at Chasm Junction.
Boulder-hopping down to the area of the campsites is rough on the old knees, but finally I’m back down on the trail. I take another quick break to get out my trekking pole, and then I’m off. Coming down from the Boulder Field to Granite Pass, the wildflowers blooming over the nearby alpine tundra are gorgeous, the view to the north of the Mummy Range is grand, picturesque puffy white clouds fill the sky, and I have a hard time remembering to look down and watch for rocks on the trail, lest I twist an ankle.
By the time I roll through Granite Pass and make the long gradual descent to Chasm Junction, I’m getting concerned about the dark ominous clouds that have started to pour over Mt Lady Washington & Longs Peak. Hey, what happened to those picturesque puffy white clouds??? Stink. So much for my extended rest break at Chasm Junction. There’s a reason people start this hike at 1 or 2 or 3 a.m., and it’s to be well down off the mountain & hopefully back below treeline before an afternoon storm rolls in with rain and lightning. Here in the Colorado High Country such storms are regular fixtures of summer afternoons.
I blow through Jims Grove Junction just as it starts to sprinkle & thunder is booming off in the distance. The raindrops & rolling thunder are all the incentive I need to ignore the protests of my fatigued legs & sore feet, and I press on at something just short of a jog until I get down below treeline. At “The Lightning Hazard Bridge” over Alpine Brook, I consider stopping to dig out my rain jacket, but it’s still just sprinkling, so I keep going. The thunder never stops, so I keep up a pretty fast pace until I get to the ½ mile-to-go sign and then I allow myself to relax & slow down.
I get back to the Mini about a quarter ’til two. I throw my $30 “Skyline 8.0” Walmart pack (which has performed admirably, by the way) in the car and then sit down at a nearby picnic table with some water & snacks. It feels so good to take off my hiking boots and wiggle my toes in the cool air for a bit before putting on my sneakers for the drive home. It has been a looong day & I’m dog-tired, but I’m also elated that I’m now two-for-two on my summit attempts via the Keyhole Route. Standing on top of Longs Peak is an incredible experience for anyone, but it’s especially memorable for someone who spends a lot of time in Rocky Mountain National Park.
When I get home that afternoon, the elation has faded and I’m so weary I’m not sure I can stay awake long enough to have the traditional post-hike pizza. My aching body is letting me know it’s not very happy with me and I tell my wife to seriously never, ever, ever let me do Longs Peak again.
Of course I said that last time, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment