Longs Peak, 7/12/19

I‘ve had my eye on Longs Peak for several years, but it’s never worked out.

Finally, this year, on the way home from a family vacation to Yellowstone and Grand Teton NP, I got my chance and decided to go for it.

I was nervous. My window was small—all of one day—and though I’ve summited over a dozen 14ers and dabbled with some “class 3” caliber terrain at home in the Ozarks and Ouachitas, I’d certainly never attempted anything like Longs.

“Don’t get summit fever,” I told myself. “If you fear for your safety or the weather goes south, just turn around. Like they say, the mountain’s not going anywhere.”

Anyway, I set my alarm for midnight, got myself and my stuff together, made the drive from Denver to the trailhead, and was on the trail by 2.

I’m a fit hiker. I’ve done Whitney in a day and run a marathon, but I’ll never be the fastest guy on the mountain and wanted to maximize my chances of being back in the trees before the sky started going gray.

I enjoyed my solitary, uphill stroll through the dark woods and around Mount Lady Washington and found myself at the keyhole conversing with three other hikers (from Maryland, California, and Oklahoma if my memory is correct) by daybreak.

“I really don’t know if I like you on that mountain alone,” my wife had told me the day before.

“It’s Longs Peak in July,” I’d responded. “I won’t be alone.”

These three gentlemen proved me right, and we pretty much made the entire trek to the top together.

I found the ledges enjoyable and not too intimidating and was relieved when the snow crossing I’d read about here and on the NPS website proved to be grippy and trenched.

Not far beyond this late-ledges snow crossing, though, was the trough, and I wasn’t quite mentally prepared for what we found here.

The entirety of the standard bullseye route was covered in snow that my spikes and trekking pole weren’t about to get me up.

So I scaled the 600 or so feet up the rocks to the left of the snow.

Maybe there wasn’t a good option on those rocks that day, or maybe my route finding capabilities just aren’t all that great, but I found myself in/on some extremely “sketchy” terrain, digging my fingertips into hairline cracks on massive, smooth slabs.

“How in the heck am I going to down-climb this?” I thought more than once.

(Thanks to the climber from Maine who helped out with the route finding on the way down!)

The narrows were easy and thrilling, thanks to all that open air and beautiful views, and the homestretch, I thought, was an easier version of the trough.

Final thoughts: Longs is everything it’s cracked up to be. It’s a climb, not a hike, and it deserves nothing but your fear and respect, even on its best day.

Longs was the most difficult peak I’ve done yet, though not the most exhausting. (Blanca from the lower trailhead.)

I hope the hiker who fell in the ledges/trough area is okay, and thanks to all who hiked and climbed with me that day.