Summit Lone Peak

 Lone Peak is a Wasatch Elevener. Its majestic summit is the namesake for the first federal wilderness area in Utah. A commanding view of both Salt Lake and Utah Valleys is the peak's reward. A healthy 6,000'+ climb with exciting exposure from the crux to summit greets the terminus. Precipitous thousand-foot cliffs present an avian view into the cirque below.

Our route of choice was Jacob's ladder, a 12-mile round trip requiring a full day itinerary. Start early, in the dark, to avoid the sun that continuously beats on the southern ridgeline the entire way up. Also, haul your own water. Water is scarce after the snow melts.

King's Peak

I'm hoping to catch up to my photos from this summer. I attached this fun shot of my summit of Utah's highest point, King's Peak (13,528'), on August 1st. It was four days into my 90-mile trek across the spine of the Uintas with my brother-in-law Steve. This summit was a fortunate opportunity-- a storm pounded the mountain throughout the morning, pelting us with rain, hail and threatening lightning. After several delays, waiting out the storm, we reached Anderson Pass at 12,500'. The window of opportunity was short as another wave of wind and storm circled. Steve stayed back to conserve energy in the thin air while I set out to ascend the summit ridge as fast as I could. Several climbers ended up turning back as the storm outpaced them. I reached the summit with Josh Carter from Petzl USA (a climbing gear company). This photo is courtesy of him. He snapped it in a moment when a spot of sun cut through dark clouds, just before the temperature plummeted and snow blew. I was able to contact Melissa on my descent-- she reported that back in Salt Lake Valley it was sunny and 94-degrees.

Timberland Radler Camp Mocs

I've been using these camp mocs since early summer. They weigh just over a pound. That's somewhat, but not extremely, light. But, they are quite sturdy, pack small and they are very comfortable. Sporting a light fleece lining, they are designed for sore bare feet. After trekking a day, give your piggies the comfort they deserve. Quick-cinch laces draw the water-resistant nylon uppers as tight as you want them. The soles have knobby rubber traction that grips good on rock or trail. They do not have enough support to carry a pack with, but you can walk around all day in these in great comfort. I've even climbed around boulders and bushwacked through forest with them. I love them for backpacking--you can simply zip 'em in half and stuff them in your pack or hang them from a biner. They'll run you somewhere between $30-65, depending on the color (many colors available). Also, the interior footbed is removable and can be replaced, if necessary. 

Utah's Goatman Mystery Solved!

Certainly, if you were anywhere in Northern Utah during July 2012 you heard about "Goatman." Goatman was photographed and spotted by at least two different hikers in the Ben Lomond area above Ogden. This is an area known to host a sizeable wild goat herd. The alleged goatman was a human clad in a crude goat costume, complete with fake horns and a hood with eye holes. He followed a herd of goats around on a cliffside, hopping across rocks and over bushes.
The event prompted both public concern and intrigue. Some feared that a deranged person was on the loose. Others became enamored with the idea. Two young men from the area even took to the same mountain dressed in a hotdog suit to add to the mystique.
Well, the mystery is apparently solved according to officials at Utah Division of Wildlife Resources! If you were dying to know, here's the story... http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-utah-goatman-20120725,0,5944331.story?page=1

Mt. Superior & Monte Cristo

A respectable Wasatch Elevener sits watch over the Snowbird-Alta ski areas in Little Cottonwood Canyon, Utah. This mountain, towering just to the north, is Superior (11,040'). Just a quarter mile west is a taller summit tucked along the same Cottonwood ridge-- Monte Cristo at 11,132'. There is a direct assault route and a ridgeline assault. At best, you will ascend over 1,300' per mile. The ridgeline has numerous mild Class 2-3 scrambling problems and gives you a little exposure.

The first mile is a climb to Cardiff Pass, where you begin a ridgeline ascending traverse over to Superior. Up a little higher we found wildlife willing to pose for us. A marmot collecting breakfast and a goat traversing the slope ahead of us both provided nice shots.

The ridge was a combination of rocky ledge trail and mild scrambling. My bro-in-law, Steve, demonstrated his moves in the photos below.   

After gaining the summit, a clear and grand view of Monte Cristo presents itself. a rocky traverse puts one at the base of the final summit cone-- a quick steep scramble. The entire trip is a mere 5 miles out-n-back. Its a good workout with glorious views and is one of the few Eleveners that can be accomplished inside a few hours.    

Exploring Cardiff Fork

Cardiff Fork is a fascinating side canyon leading from Reynolds Flat in Big Cottonwood Canyon. It remains a patchwork of private land, remnants of old mining claims. Mining relics and ruins are abundant throughout the canyon, where silver, copper and gold were extracted commercially until the 1950s.

Today, the old mining roads remain open only to private land owners, forest service and hikers on foot. A popular destination, Doughnut Falls, is a 3/4-mile hike from the mouth of the fork. A deeper exploration leads upward to Cardiac Bowl and Cardiff Pass on the Cottonwood Ridge. My brother-in-law, Steve, and I decided on Cardiff Fork for a test-run of some of our gear and pacing for an upcoming backpacking expedition. The sights were beautiful and the trail just steep enough to get us warmed up. After a pleasant evening along Vina Flat (9,000'), we day hiked to the canyon head at Cardiff Pass, winding up at about 10,000'. 

The Pfeifferhorn & White Baldy

Saturday before Father's Day was one mother of a hike!... Two high peaks in the Wasatch. The Pfeifferhorn tops out at 11,326' and White Baldy at 11,321'. My GPS tracked over 8,000' elevation gain for the day. My own analog figures were closer to 6,000', but because I was unfamiliar with this route I made several false ascents/descents which either could've added up or just confused the GPS. Ultimately, I don't trust GPS accuracy. Whether 6k or 8k, it was a respectable trek.  

The White Pine Trailhead begins about 5 miles up Little Cottonwood Canyon. The trail is a mild grade for the first mile (an old mining road). The next 2.5 miles to Red Pine Lake increase in elevation at a steady rate, but the trail is good and pleasant. Arriving at Red Pine Lake is a treat-- a beautiful deep teal colored lake. There are several places to camp around the south edge.

The trail stops at lower Red Pine Lake. Fairly easy route finding is involved hereafter. I was fortunate enough to meet with drifts of snow, some 10 feet deep or so, that covered boulder fields and scree leading up the slope to the Pfeifferhorn ridge. This is a fairly steep and steady climb. I post-holed a couple times up to my knees. I saw a couple spots where climbers had broken through some 3-4 feet.

Once at the summit ridge, a sub peak just shy of 11,000' forms a buttress of sorts to the summit cone. Here, I got my first glimpse of the Pfeifferhorn, a magnificent pyramid-shaped summit. It is a boulder scramble across the saddle with a few precarious drop-offs, but nothing extremely treacherous. The yellow line traces my climbing route. It was a beast, but once I let go of any notion of sprinting to the top, I was mentally prepared. Slow and steady got me there.

A closer look shows a fellow climber making her way just ahead of me up the summit cone  (look for the red arrow; click on the pic and you'll see what I mean). The arrow demonstrates the scale of this ascent. In case you're wondering, it is as steep as it looks. 

 

Once at the summit, I took a rest. This was the mark of a 3,600'+ ascent and I was making pretty good time. Up to now, routefinding was easy and much of the boulder fields and scree had been desirably covered in snow. Notice in the picture of me kicking back on the summit. Just behind my head was a drop off of nearly a thousand feet (seen in the next photo-- you can see a climber perched near the same location).

From here I surveyed my next conquest-- White Baldy. I was still fresh with plenty of energy. White Baldy is a fair shot away, but proved to be an arduous task. The entire route was composed of cliffs, boulderfields (size of a washing machine to small car), scree (size of bowling ball to microwave) and tallus (size of golf ball to softball). The ridgeline between Pfeifferhorn and White Baldy is an impassible collection of cliffs. The rocks were nasty and presented a constant incline. This puts tremendous pressure on the calf and quad muscles to keep ankles from torquing out. The rocks shift often, quite unstable. It took me over 2 hours to traverse over to the headwall just above the saddle. That was dissapointing. I cliffed out a couple times and had to backtrack, downclimb and upclimb. From here I suveyed the summit, a jagged verticle-reaching boulder field of granite, quartzite and shale. There was no clear route, so some time was spent exploring and backtracking. Most of the climb was a Class 3, but I must admit that some of it stretched into Class 4, as a slip of one hand or foothold would have been fatal. I cliffed out (where you dead-end due to a sharp cliff) several times without navigable options. It was frustrating and tiring in the afternoon sun.

Reaching the summit was glorious, albeit short-lived when I had to route find my way back down. I determined that given my dwindling water supply, my time, and condition, I would not pursue Red Baldy for the descent. Given the time I had spent on White Baldy, I reasoned a return via the Red Pine Basin. Upon return, I found myself using numerous rock climbing techniques including pocket grips, as reliance on the quartzite and granite was prefereable over the scrappy shale. It wasn't pretty, but it was a challenge that gripped my full attention and sharpened my mental acquity, which had been waning. 

After another murderous trek across the boulders and scree (did I mention I dislike scree?) I gained the ridgeline again and descended for the next few hours. Hoorah!