Longs Peak in Winter

Longs Peak in February? Well, it's worth a shot, right? How hard could it be? These and other sentiments cascaded around in my head when Bill from Chicago first proposed the trip. Last May, I climbed Mt. Lady Washington with Bill on one of his frequent climbing junkets to the Rockies and had a grand time. He and his friend George were headed out to Colorado for some winter climbing at the end of February and had proposed to climb Longs via the standard Keyhole route. I countered by saying I was sick to death of that side of the mountain and didn't fancy a night at 13,000' in the notoriously harsh Boulderfield and why didn't we try climbing it via the Trough Couloir on the west side.

The Trough is a 2000' couloir which climbs directly from Glacier Gorge up the steep west face of Longs and intersects the standard route at about 13,800'. We would camp at Black Lake, then get an early start, climb the short but steep route to the summit (3600' in three miles) and return to camp. The next morning, sore but satisfied with our triumph, we would head out to the trailhead and the celebratory visit to Ed's Cantina.

At least that was the plan...

Chris, veteran of four unsuccessful winter bids on Longs and all-around competent fellow, joined us making it four for the summit. We rendesvoused in Estes Park on Friday morning and spent an hour or two sorting out gear. It was a full load! Sleeping bags, tents, stoves, fuel for same, food, water, shovels, ten ice screws, two snow pickets, harnesses, helmets, a 70 meter rope, a light rock rack, crampons, ice axes/tools, snowshoes... The packs were heavy with gear slung all over the outside of them making us look like high-tech gypsies. And they had momentum! Once my own 60+ pound pack got moving, it didn't want to stop. My quads were aching in short order from trying to move an unprecedented 250 pounds around.

Fabio's scouting photo from a fortnight before our attempt. This photo was a great help in planning our trip, but there was actually less snow there by the time we went. The Trough is the obvious curving route.	Bill, George, myself, and Chris on Jewel Lake, heavily laden

Crossing Mills Lake. Longs is the left wall of the valley.

After a couple hours of slogging, we reached Black Lake nestled in it's deep hole at 10,600', just as the sun set behind Stone Man Pass. Chris located a nice campsite; a giant boulder on the north shore of the lake featured a six-foot-deep moat around it carved by the wind. We established a kitchen area in this relatively sheltered spot and set up our tent in a loft above the boulder. George camped right around the corner on the frozen lake itself ("hey, it's flat, right?") while Bill set up his tent in the trees 20' away. Bill and I took a scouting trip up the long eastern ramp from Black Lake to the plateau above. We couldn't see the bottom of the route, but did find a lot of wind and a good preview of tomorrow's conditions. Returning to camp, we settled in for the night, melting water, laying out gear, keeping warm, and watching Longs Peak high above to the east catching the last rays of the setting sun. When the stars came out, they did so in force, complete with planets, meteors, and some impressively dark skies. It was a very nice night, all things considered.

George picks a tent spot at Black Lake.

Evening light on Longs Peak from Black Lake.

The weather had changed in the night. This orographic cloud cap over the summit was a bit ominous.

Chris and George climb up from Black Lake

From the lake, we climbed a snow ramp up to the 11,000' plateau at the head of Glacier Gorge and traversed a mile over broken rock and snow to the foot of the Trough. Actually, things were looking up. The clouds had mostly cleared and the wind was intermittent and not too bad. High above, we could see a group of three climbers starting up the couloir just left (north) of the Trough. Eventually, they traversed half-way across to the proper route, then back, down a bit, and back over again. When I reached the bottom of the route proper at 11,800', I saw that the way was blocked by a pretty substantial icefall. Benefitting from the experience of the other party, we climbed steep talus just left of the ice fall and gained the couloir at about 12,000'.

Weather is improving as we cross 11,000'.

The Spearhead looks incredible!

Once we got on-route, conditions in the couloir were perfect; nice, consolidated snow for cramponing with occasional patches of ice and rock down below. My "new" steel crampons bit into everything with ease and my two axes climbed cleanly and with speed. Higher up, the snow got wider and the ice and rock bits went away completely. I broke trail for a few hundred feet until meeting up with the boot track from the party above. George, Bill and Chris followed on below making slow but steady time. The wind, while fierce on the flats below, was fairly calm and the warm sunshine made it quite pleasant, even hot! I regretted our liesurely start now, but was resolved to get as high as possible with the remaining time.

Bill, Chris, and George follow the boot track up the Trough at about 12,800' (half way). McHenrys Peak and the Black Lake cirque are across Glacier Gorge. (This is a BIG image! Zoom in for best effect.)

Progress was slow. This is a long climb! By 1 pm we'd made it to about 12,900' and had met Jill, Val, and Scott (?), the three climbers seen above us earlier, and suppliers of the excellant boot track I'd been following. They'd turned back about 600' higher up where the snow gave way to ice and rock with "a few interesting mixed-climbing moves". After a brief pause for some calories, we continued on finally reaching the red-and-yellow bulls-eyes that mark the standard route coming in from the Keyhole at 13,300'. The view here was stunning! We'd climbed higher than all but about ten peaks in RMNP (many of which weren't in view anyway) and the view to the north and west was extensive. The morning's cloudy weather had given way to bluebird skies. We could clearly see the Medicine Bow range in Wyoming 100 miles to the north, and the Flattops an equal distance to the west. The Spearhead, so intimidating from below, looked toylike and cute. McHenry's Peak, indistinct and uninteresting from Black Lake, revealed itself to be a very shapely and appealing mountain. We could see Mills Lake and the lower parts of Glacier Gorge all the way to the trail head reminding us of how much distance separated us from showers and hot food.

Bill and George climb past 12,900'. The summit block looks so close, but it's still a long way away.

Chris had already turned back citing lethargy and the rest of us were clearly dragging a bit. The time was about 1:30 and was nearing my pre-chosen turn-around time of 2. The summit was only another 900 vertical feet, but represented the technical crux and some (presumably) tricky snow and ice traverses across the Narrows. Thus, regretfully, I turned around and the Chicagoans followed soon after.

The top of the Trough from 13,300', our turn-around point and the point at which the standard route joins. From here on, it was rock and ice with very little snow.

Down was certainly easier than up and we made good time plunge-stepping down the slope. I found Chris lounging on some rocks at about 12,500' and walked with him a while. Both of us were feeling a bit queasy and dizzy. Normally, I don't have any altitude symptoms, but I'd been feeling off all trip. By the time I doffed crampons and scrambled down a couple hundred feet of talus to the shelf below, I was feeling actively bad. I lay in the sun for a while in the shelter of a rock and napped while the rest caught up. Chris and I then retreated back down through some impressive winds to Black Lake, arriving at 4:20.

Two members of the Chicago Mountain Club at 13,300'.

Chris retreating across Glacier Gorge into a strong headwind.

The original plan was to spend a second night, but Chris was anxious to get home to his wife and new baby. It didn't take much argument to convince me to come along as well. Thus when Bill, then George, staggered across the lake at about 5, we were already half-way through packing up. They were committed to spending another night and clearly in no shape for another four miles of hiking, even on the easy, packed trail. Gear was swapped around and we departed, heavy packs and tired legs, at 5:45.

Retreat, which seemed like a good idea at the outset, quickly became a leaden death march through windy, dark forest on spent legs with ludicrously heavy backpacks. It was fully dark by the time we got to Jewel and Mills Lakes and the occasional crack and shift from the ice underfoot kept us jittery and distracted. We paused once for lip balm, cheez-its, and raisins, then pushed on the final, painful two miles to the waiting trailhead arriving at 7:30. We retreated to Ed's Cantina for well-deserved beers and burgers, then home to our wives and warm beds.

Even though we didn't reach the summit, it was a great trip. The company was good and the scenery amazing. Bill and George clearly really wanted to summit and we probably could have given a much earlier start and better acclimation. The weather was better than I'd anticipated and snow conditions were perfect. My biggest fear, that of a night significantly below zero in a howling wind never materialized and I was quite snug in my zero-degree down bag. My plans for technical climbing on-route never materialized either and we hauled 20 pounds of rope and technical gear along that never saw use. Oh well. As a first winter mountaineering experience, it was quite rewarding and educational.

The Wilderness Journal

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