Photos will be at the bottom of this report.

I had been spending most of my time soloing in the flatirons this year, so I decided to take a break from the death drop stuff to go do a casual 13er. I settled on nearby Mt. Guyot from Georgia Pass. The route looked short and sweet, which was exactly what I was looking for this time. The wildfire smoke had been suffocating those of us in the Arkansas Valley, so a quick jaunt up a local peak seemed to be the perfect move.

I researched the road and read that stock SUVs can make it up the pass no problem. I was in a 4Runner, so I assumed the drive in would be quick and painless. This wasn’t the case. It’s one of those roads that isn’t at all cruxy, but consistently annoying. Washboards and small rocks made my vehicle vibrate for the entire drive up the pass. This ended up being a good thing however, because as I turned a corner, I nearly hit a moose! I was only going about 10mph due to the rocky road fortunately. We held each other’s gaze for a minute before she made a hasty departure. Guess I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. Little did I know that this surprise wildlife encounter would not be an isolated experience, but rather the theme of the day.

I reached the summit of the pass and began hiking up towards Mt. Guyot. The road disappears within a quarter mile, and you are then greeted with the steep pile of rocks that will constitute the remainder of your route. Normally I am pretty heavy on beta in my TR’s, but I think for this particular route, it is safe to leave it at “go up”.

Up I went, taking notice at how the thick smoke had completely enveloped this area as well. I couldn’t even see Mt. Princeton as I drove through the valley in the am. I had seriously hoped that the wind was going to keep it trapped down that way for the duration of my climb, but that was overly optimistic. No respite was given. Maybe it was following me.

As I continued up the slope, I started to notice something peculiar. There seemed to be a white, fluffy object playing peekaboo with me. I quickly assessed that this was a goat. This goat happened to be right in the middle of my path. We seemed to be at an impasse. Fortunately, I had learned to speak goat recently and decided to use this opportunity to hone my skills. We began communicating in her native tongue and realized that we were both friendly. Whew. She seemed like she trusted me but still appeared a bit apprehensive for some reason. I quickly realized why when the absolute cutest, fluffiest creature that I had ever laid eyes upon made a surprise entrance. I was only 10 feet away from this mom and young kid. Wow.
There we sat for a period of time conversing in goat language, touching on topics ranging from philosophy to fluvial geomorphology. I was especially surprised at her understanding of pegmatite paragenesis. She even told me the meaning of life before I departed. I am authorized to share it, but only in goat language. “Bahhh”. You’re welcome. Filled to the brim with ancient goat wisdom, I was now ready to summit Mt. Guyot, or should I say, Mt. Goatyot.

As I continued up the slope, I caught the voices of her tribe on the wind. They had heard our conversation and wanted to make me an honorary goat. I of course accepted. They asked me to join them on the next ridge over, but unfortunately the distance was considerable, and I was a goat in name only.

I continued up the less than pleasant talus slope, soon arriving at the summit ridge. I then unexpectedly saw something that caught my fancy. There was an easily bypassable 20 foot section of ridge that looked to go at low 5th class. I downclimbed into the rock chute a short ways to tackle this formation head on. It was very enjoyable but was over far too quickly. I’d call it 5.0-5.2. Nothing crazy, but a nice break from monotonous talus scampering. A couple of minutes later, I was on the summit.

The trip down was uneventful, aside from whacking myself in the face incredibly hard with my trekking pole. I am not totally sure how it happened, but for all intents and purposes just picture a Tom and Jerry style incident where Tom is running full speed and suddenly steps on a rake. It was something like that except stationary. Not my best moment. I have a very noticeable bruise on my face as I type this, two days later. Luckily my goat friends weren’t around to see it.

Once back to my vehicle, I still had a little wind in my sails so I decided to hike across Glacier Ridge for a bit. At my turnaround point, I saw a herd of elk!

What is happening today?! Moose, goats, and now an elk herd? This turned out to be one of the most prolific wildlife viewing days I had ever had in the alpine. Second only to a mother mountain lion and two cubs flanking Ian Wright and I in the middle of the night coming down from the Teakettle group. That report is on here too if anyone is curious. I ended up seeing elk, moose, goats, pika, rabbit, prairie dogs, and even birds of prey circling the sky.

When I left my house that morning, I was Travis Terrell. By the time I had returned, I had become the Lord of the Goats.