It's late in the year, but I thought I'd contribute a little info from my climbs around Vestal Basin earlier this summer in case anyone else who is NOT an ultra athlete or rock jock ever makes a trip back there. Seems others like me are a dying breed—we've been replaced by better, more efficient climbers. Nearly everyone I ran into was there to either climb Vestal via Wham, or climb the Trinities via 4th/5th class routes. I made my trip over the 4th of July weekend, 2024 during a perfect weather window. I was expecting quite a few other people, which there were. I was blown away by the capabilities of nearly every person I ran into. I didn't think I was old and washed up until this trip. I guess I'm just an old retro grouch now :)

If anyone else wants to follow in my footsteps and feel like a poser among legends, here's what to do:

1. Pick a busy, perfect weather weekend.
2. Go by yourself so that any negative thoughts have more time to percolate silently in your head. Pairs well with the misery of backpacking.
3. Obsessively plan and obtain new gear to lighten your load. Take pride that you got your pack under 40lbs for a measly 4-day trip. Silently grimace when other backpackers make snide comments about how you're obviously not going light, even though that's exactly what you're trying to do. Snarkily remind them you don't have anyone to share the load with.
4. Hike down the Molas trail with a full pack like the forest is on fire because you didn't budget time well. Get a good set of blisters before reaching the river.
5. Wave at all the happy trail runners who just completed a 18+ mile day trip to Vestal basin, bagging multiple summits with nothing but a running vest, and wonder how it's even humanly possible to cover that kind of distance with so little food or water.
6. Pause briefly to wonder if you're making a terrible mistake.
7. Soldier on with the single-minded goal to make it to a high camp at all costs. Damn the torpedoes (or feet)!
8. Slog up past all the other campers looking for a perfect marmot-free camp spot until it's too dark to see where you're putting your tent. Pitch said tent on top of tree roots. Ignore the perfect camp spot tucked just out of view in the trees 30 yards away. Filter water in the cold and dark so that you're frozen stiff while strange eyes peer at you from the forest.
9. Run to your tent so the security of a few microns of nylon protect you from the glowing eyes and eschew eating any kind of dinner to replenish your strength.
10. Wake up way too late in the morning because the sun doesn't rise in Vestal Basin until 8:30, try to ignore Charlie horse in leg and cramps in foot, put on boots, and hike. Ibuprofen and something resembling food for breakfast.
11. Hike. Downhill. Back to where all the smart people camped by the trail you actually need to follow. Then, uphill. Like really steep uphill. Ignore blisters, cramps, and wonder why on earth you're climbing at ½ speed.
12. Hope and pray you run into someone. ANYONE. Because you realize that after 24 hours of being solo, your own company is turning rather surly and the inner peakbagger egging you on is really just a selfish prick trying to ruin your life.
13. Run into other foolish climbers starting after 8am and realize they're all heading for Wham Ridge. Accept the feeling of failure that as a lowly peakbagger, such objectives are too lofty and you don't have the time, skills, or energy for such tomfoolery.
14. Slog to summit #1 (Arrow). Obsess over the route since you're alone and imagining your body bouncing down the long ramp is a great way to pass the time.
15. Meet another climber. Rejoice!
16. Enjoy the boost another soul provides and share the experience of suffering for self-imposed objectives.
17. Summit, descend, and relinquish other peakbagger from your methodical pace and set him free.
18. Slump down on rocks, chew food, and contemplate how your plan will crumble if you don't drag your tired butt up at least one more peak. Hike more.
19. Realize that you're scrambling up a peak that at least a dozen other people are on, but you're the only fool not climbing solid rock and clipped into a rope as you grind uphill through relentless talus.
20. Keep climbing.
21. Climb more.
22. Summit. Encounter other humans and rejoice again!
23. Lead strange other humans who can somehow climb up 5th class terrain, yet be trepidatious descending class 2+ down the mountain and relish any moment you're not left alone with the surly peakbagging prick who brought you up here in the first place.
24. Depart company, wander through rocks, tundra and trees, find hidden trail leading down from Vestal lake right to camp. Collapse.
25. Remember that you're alone and no one else is there to help filter water, cook, or do anything. Spend all remaining daylight tending to basic needs.
26. Blow up sleeping pad, break valve.
27. Sleep?
28. Ignore alarm. Wake up whenever, because.... tired.
29. Host internal debate. Participants: one selfish peakbagging prick who MUST summit and complete stupid goals; one lazy bum who doesn't want to move. Somehow the peakbagging prick wins. His plan dictates three summits for the day.
30. Eat food-like stuff, bandage feet, find miracle rock to cross creek, then bash through willows to hidden trail (look to the white boulder field across the creek).
31. Follow trail into pretty basin. Briefly enjoy the moment, then look at clock and realize that a snail would have lapped you already.
32. Encounter crazy human descending cliffs from West Trinity solo and running (RUNNING??!!) across the basin. Say hello.
33. Wonder what it's like to have that kind of stamina and energy. Ignore feet, legs, and lungs telling you to just lie down and take a 6-hour nap in the tundra.
34. Climb easy talus. Curse writer who ever said it was easy.
35. Get horribly off-route and contemplate all the ways to die alone on a mountain.
36. Drag self to summit, host another debate. Participants: 1 solo climber; tired, afraid. 1 peakbagging prick who has two more peaks to climb.
37. Allow debate to be interrupted by surprise human appearing from cliffs below.
38. Assume human must be an angel sent to guide the peakbagging prick and join forces to conquer the Trinity Traverse.
39. Traverse.
40. Try not to defecate in pants out of fear.
41. Summit.
42. Descend, upclimb, summit again.
43. Cell service? Where did that come from? Call home and talk to other humans who for some reason encourage this bizarre behavior. Assure them of your safety and relish the brief moment of contact.
44. Reset attitude. Peaks climbed. Family contacted. Peakbagging prick goes wherever he runs off to hide once the objective is complete. Now I'm just up here with me and some cool dude who saved my skin on the traverse.
45. Enjoy the view, hike down, and take it all in.
46. Bash through willows and trees looking for some kind of trail down into Vestal Basin. Find it halfway into the trees.
47. Meander back to camp.
48. Tend to basic needs. Wave to the eyes in the forest that haven't eaten you yet. Find amazing camp site 30 yards away and curse as you shuffle around in your tent with a half-deflated sleeping pad that you can't re-inflate.
49. Climb onto broken sleeping pad and SLEEP.
50. Ignore alarm again. Leisurely pack up until you're the last human in the basin.
51. Hike down. Lose trail, repeat.
52. Reach beaver ponds and swear to never return to this horrid place.
53. Eat food, swallow miracle pills (Ibuprofen), give up on hiking boots, don running shoes, and get the heck out of here.
54. Blitz up Molas trail making the best time all trip, feel wonderful.
55. Reach car, talk with other hikers, reminisce about all the fun that was had, and get sad when you have to leave.
56. Drive, record notes, drive more, eat, and swear off ever backpacking solo again (the peakbagging prick is a total pill to deal with alone).
57. Announce plan to family to never backpack alone again.
58. Wait two weeks.
59. Start hatching plans for more backpacking.
60. Stare longingly at pretty photos and recall with nothing but fondness the wonderful experience you had. Ignore all previous resolutions and plan another one!

On a more serious note, this was my first solo backpack. It was harder mentally than I was expecting, and I did myself no favors by wrecking my feet on the way in trying to make up time, then eschewing dinner after the long backpack. Lesson learned. In the future, I'll definitely make more of an effort to ease into it and also find a partner. Next year's objectives include Jagged, Pigeon/Turret, and Jupiter/Grizzly/McCauley. If anyone is interested, please hit me up :)

Here are a few notes other peakbaggers may find helpful:

ARROW

I found the route instructions in Roach's book a bit confusing. There's a simpler way to express the route. From Vestal Basin, Arrow has two fairly prominent ramps that obviously go toward the summit and not past it. Take the large, lower one up until the point the upper one takes off and there's easy access to it. Follow that up more or less on the crest.

VESTAL

Almost no one seems to climb it via the back side "standard" route anymore. It's not particularly well marked, but Roach's instructions were adequate. Climbers seem to favor the eastern-most options for descending the scree to the saddle, but there's better terrain more to the middle of the saddle between Arrow and Vestal. If climbing up, go that way. If descending, go that way too.

TRINITIES

There's a great trail taking off from Vestal Basin that you can use to get into the basin between Vestal and West Trinity, but it's rather hidden to start. At about 11,750' in Vestal basin if you look across to the other side of the creek, there should be a very white looking boulder field. There are cairns around this area that direct to a fairly strong trail leading up through the willows, I assume toward Vestal lake. You can reach the boulder field by either following a sketchy trail out of the meadow to a low creek crossing or by wandering down the creek a bit to where a large rock provides an easy, dry crossing. Once you get to the boulder field, the trail climbs fairly steeply and eventually turns slightly to the west, going by a small tarn nestled amidst some trees. I split off from it around the tarn and was able to meander over toward West Trinity with little problem. I also connected with this on my descent from climbing Vestal.

On the way up West Trinity, I wandered way farther east on the south slopes of West Trinity than I should have. Turns out that's a nice way to keep the route at about class 2. I never ran into anything that I'd call class 3, but it felt long and annoyingly tedious.

Traversing over to Trinity Peak is definitely quite a bit of class 3, punctuated by some solid class 4. I was incredibly glad to not be on this part alone. The moves weren't too bad, but it is exposed (and isolated). The route was fairly well marked, but cairns were sporadic and took some effort to find.

The traverse between Middle and East was dicier than I'd expected. The descent was looser and more annoying that I was hoping for. The climb up East was ledgy and involved a lot of class 3. There was also a steep snow gully to cross. I was glad to have an ice axe. Going up East Trinity, the guy I met on the route followed a line more to the right that he said went at easy 5th class. He was a rock jock out looking for pristine wilderness climbs, so he was seeking out that kind of terrain. I was trying to avoid it.

On the descent back to Vestal Basin, just below the large lake beneath the Trinities, there are some of the most beautiful grassy slopes I've ever seen. If you make it into Vestal basin, take the time to come here. It's a magical place.

CAMPSITE

As the Vestal Basin "trail" levels out around 11,750' in a small meadow, there's an excellent campsite hidden nearby. To find it, backtrack to the very small hill you just descended and look for a large tree trunk that's broken off at about 5' height. Opposite of this should be a small rib of rock. Scamper over the rib of rock and generally in a NW direction. There should be surprisingly strong trail nearby leading to an excellent campsite near a small tarn. The deer like this place. If you stay, you'll likely have company—either from them or the marmots.

CalTopo Map › (note that my markers were placed when not fully zoomed on Global Imagery. CalTopo has a strange bug where if you zoom in all the way, the imagery shifts out of alignment).