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Wind River Peak in a Day

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Greetings. We were already 7 miles in when the sun rose.

NOTE: I know this is a long post. It was a long hike. 🙂 If you’re interested in hiking and climbing Wind River Peak, you’ll find key information in this blog. If you’re not interested in details, etc., I hope you’ll at least enjoy the photos and video at bottom. Or, here’s a 7-minute video blog of the adventure.

As a gift for my 44th birthday, my husband, Jerry, agreed to join me in hiking in and climbing Wind River Peak in a day. We had climbed it before — back in 1998 — during an extended backcountry trip we made with rented llamas, who carried our loads. Wind River was our first Wind River mountain to climb, a good one at that. Wind River Peak stands 13,192 feet tall, and is the tallest mountain in the southern Wind River Range of Wyoming.

The mountain is a massive and beautiful mountain, one that stands out from the southern half of the range. We can see the snowy, rounded peak from many of our favorite “back yard” locations.

Wind River Peak. (Photographed from Frye Lake on a different outing)

The last time Jerry and I climbed it, we ascended Wind River Peak’s south slopes, via Tayo and upper Tayo lakes. On this adventure, we would ascend its northeast ridge, above the Deep Creek and Ice Creek lakes region.

Our alarm went off at 2 a. m., which even for us early birds, was dizzying. It was more like the middle of the night than the early morning. But our insanity when we had set the alarm was rationalized by our desire to allow ourselves the biggest window of opportunity to accomplish the objective. We were going to be on a tight timeline because we wanted to make it back to Lander in time for our 10-year-old son’s last baseball game, which also happened to be a championship game, scheduled for 7:15 p.m.

We headed to Worthen Reservoir to find the trailhead, a 40-minute drive from Lander. With headlamps on and under a starry sky, we started hiking at around 3:45 a. m. I don’t mind hiking in the dark, but I prefer doing it pre-sunrise, rather than post-sunset. I like being far into the wilderness when the day is greeted by the first light of the sun.

We hiked three miles to Sheep Bridge, basically from 8,500′ to 9,000′ and back down to about 8,500′ again. As we made our way through the dark and quiet forest, the cool air was full and thick of the smell of a campfire. A fire (known as the Fontenelle Fire) was, and is burning, in southwest Wyoming, just over the range from us. The evening prior, Lander was in the thick of its smoke. We had been concerned that our hike might be smoky and that the peak may be a No Go today as a result of thick smoke. Fortunately the smell was from the smoke that had settled in the forest during the night and, by all indications, a stellar, bluebird day was ahead.

After arriving at Sheep Bridge, we joined the Middle Fork Trail and hiked up, and alongside the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie River for about three miles before approaching Three Forks Park. Here, we stayed right and started up the Pinto Park Trail, which eventually leads to Pinto Park and the North Fork of the Popo Agie.

On this day, the sun began lighting up the wilderness — at least enough for us to turn off our headlamps — at around 5 am. Soon after, at exactly 5:03 a.m., something curious happened. Right at that very moment, we heard birds chirping and singing. Until that moment, except for our huffing and puffing, it had been totally quiet. Then, we watched a small herd of elk emerge about 100 feet in front of us, to our right. Like I said, the day was going to be a good one. 🙂

We reached, and took a left, on the Deep Creek Lakes Cutoff Trail. Per our GPS, we had hiked 10 miles. After starting up the Cutoff Trail we hiked near Lake 10,054′, where we paused to watch several fish jumping and cutting through the otherwise smooth-as-glass water. We hiked for 2.3 miles before reaching the first Deep Creek lake, situated at 10,500′ elevation. Our GPS indicated we had traveled about 12.5 miles, and it was only 7:40 a.m. So far so good.

Steve Bechtel, my friend, and author of Cirque of the Towers & Deep Lake. A Select Guide to the Wind Rivers’ Best Rock Climbing, had provided information for us the day before about following “The Ramp” up Wind River Peak. We hiked another half mile or so beyond the first Deep Creek Lake before spying a trail to our right. Unfortunately I suggested we ignore that trail and keep hiking, thinking we weren’t to the ramp’s base yet. Oops. As we hiked toward Ice Creek lakes, it became obvious we (I) had made the wrong decision. So we backtracked a half-mile and picked up the trail and headed (seemingly straight) up. Nothing like making an epic day hike even longer, right?

After crossing over a little snow and a boulder field, we found ourselves on the broad ridge that separates Ice Creek and Deep Creek lakes that provides a half-mile-wide “ramp.” Once at the bottom of the ramp, we set our sights on a clump of rocks to the right of Chimney Rock and started up. Wildflowers were everywhere, growing up out of the alpine tundra and gravelly terrain. At times we hiked on tundra, others over rocks and boulders and at others, through snow.

The highlight of this route to Wind River’s summit is the almost-constant view you’re afforded of Little El Capitan, which, as its name suggests, features a massive and sheer wall, along with a notch known as “Surveyor’s Notch.” Little El Capitan is the fourth-tallest mountain in the southern Wind River Range. The sight of this wall is so astounding that we stood and looked at it, our jaws dropping, for quite some time.

At this point, midway up Wind River Peak, we were sucking air. We have climbed peaks before, this one included, so we were not strangers to thinner air. But doggone it anyway. On the upside, although there was a bit of a haze below us, in the direction we had come, we still had clear and bright blue sky around us on Wind River. The views that unfolded below us and around us were nothing short of spectacular.

Soon we reached the first of several snow fields. The snow was only knee-deep in most places and melting fast. Still, we were lucky enough that for most of the snow travel during our ascent we could walk on top of the snow.

Reaching summits takes a while. Especially Wind River Peak’s. The approach is a long haul to get to the base of the mountain, and then it’s a 3.5-mile hike to its top. I think as we were finally approaching the top of Wind River, my husband was wishing I had asked for expensive jewelry for my birthday instead of this epic hike.

Finally, when our GPS indicated we had only 92 vertical feet left to go, we got a surge of energy and soon reached the rock field that is the top of Wind River Peak. We made our way across it and climbed onto the pile of rocks marking the high point.

The views were as we remembered — epic.

We enjoyed a quick lunch break and I captured some photos and video before our time at the summit was up. We remembered that the summit is only the halfway point and we had a long way to go to make it home in time for our son’s baseball game.

Due to our missing the trail up we had logged an extra mile or so. Our GPS indicated we had hiked 17 miles once we reached the summit. And, at least in this case, downhill doesn’t mean easy. Going down is not easier than going up. It’s just that it’s different; it’s more about caution than effort, and our legs were tired.

We started down. Suddenly, Jerry, with much exuberance, exclaimed: “There’s a person!” I looked and spied a person not very far from us, ascending the peak. And then, Jerry yelled “There’s a whole bunch of ’em!” Turns out a NOLS course was summiting. These were the only hikers we’d see the entire day. Even though Jerry and I both love solitude, it was nice to see other human beings. 🙂 After a short visit with one of the instructors and some of the students, we continued.

When we hit the first snow field, our legs sank all the way down to our thighs. The snow was melting fast and it would be a little treacherous descending a couple of the snow fields. But on the final one, the most vertical of the snow fields, we enjoyed a long glissade. Standing on the summit with my better half was my favorite part of the day, but the glissade was a high second. It was a blast!

We got down Wind River much quicker than we got up it and before we knew it we were back on the trail. We still had 13-plus miles to go and not very many hours until game-time.

Finally, at Sheep Bridge, and only after enduring the 600-foot uphill slog it is known for, it was like horses to the barn. We made it back to Lander and to Hayden’s game right at the start of the game. As we arrived to the baseball diamond, we looked up and saw my parents, the boys’ babysitter, and our other two sons in the bleachers. At the top of the bleachers. I considered if I had another 8 steps in me. 🙂 And of course, I did.

What a hike and what a day! Once again it has been confirmed that anything’s possible if you’re willing to get up early in the morning, and, oh how I love my back yard.

By the way, when I’m not hiking — and sometimes when I am — I am a life and leadership coach and consultant. Check out EPIC LIFE, my coaching business. Epic Life provides coaching, with an option for a guided epic adventure. I also have a blog there.

Thanks to our wonderful friend, Korinne Thoren, for watching the boys so we could tackle this hike!

Jerry, catching his breath during the elevation gain on the Pinto Park Trail portion of the hike.
The first Deep Creek lake. Reached at 12.5 miles.
Jerry, in search of the start of The Ramp.
Wildflowers and lichen-covered rocks were in abundance during our ascent of Wind River Peak.
My best half, starting up The Ramp, with Deep Creek lakes in the background.
First glimpse of Little El Capitan.
Little El Capitan, and Surveyor's Notch.
Me, doing a little way-finding. That's Lizard Head Peak in back center.
Alpine tundra. Notice the little blue flowers. They are forget-me-nots, my favorite.
The target: Wind River's summit.
The snowmelt pattern reminded me of ocean water.
Jerry, hiking up one of the snow fields on Wind River Peak's northeast ridge.
Jerry, at the beginning of Wind River Peak's summit, en route to the pile marking the peak's high point.
My epic husband and I at the summit.
One of many summit views. The big wall is Little El Capitan.
Doing an (awkward backpack-bearing) snow angel on our way down.

A 7-MINUTE VIDEO BLOG OF THE ADVENTURE:

Climbing Finis Mitchell’s Mountain

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Howdy.

Last Thursday, my husband, Jerry, and I left Lander at (gasp) 3:45 am. It was a two-hour drive to the Big Sandy Opening trailhead, and our plans for the day were ambitious: to climb Mitchell Peak and get back to Lander in time for our middle son’s 5:30 pm baseball game.

We made the drive under a star-filled sky, which meant we had picked a stellar day. As we entered the Big Sandy Opening area we noticed our “outside temperature” gauge reporting 21 degrees. OMG. We didn’t plan for below-freezing temperatures. It would be a frigid start. Even with all of our layers on and walking at a brisk pace, we were shivering for the first five miles before the trail left the forest and we could finally feel the warmth of the sun.

We had hiked the route many times before, at least once a year for several years. On this day, we would hike from Big Sandy Opening to Big Sandy Lake, up over the first part of Jackass Pass, to North Lake, where we’d take a hard right and head up Mitchell Peak’s southern slopes before gaining its northwest “walk up” ridge.

Mitchell Peak is part of the famous Cirque of the Towers, one of the most spectacular sights you will ever see. The sight of the Cirque takes my breath away every time I see it. This is partially due to the effort it takes to get there, but mostly due to its sheer and unspeakable beauty. The sight of the Cirque can move you to tears, and it inspires you for days, weeks and months after.

You can access the Cirque via Big Sandy Opening and Jackass Pass (which straddles the Continental Divide and gets its name because it’s so rugged a donkey can’t pass over it — and a stupid person can – LOL) or via Dickinson Park and the North Fork Trail. The former is a harder hike, but shorter in distance — about 15 miles roundtrip. It is truly an epic hike given the jaw-dropping scenery and the rugged terrain. The latter is easier — with only 900′ of gain over the course of about 15 miles (30 roundtrip), but with 5 river crossings.

My husband, Jerry, at Big Sandy Lake, about six miles into our hike.

Jerry and I have wanted to climb Mitchell Peak since at least 1997, the year we first camped near the Cirque of the Towers. (Prior to Thursday, we had climbed Lizard Head, Wind River Peak and other peaks in the southern Wind River Range.)

Mitchell Peak is named for the late Finis Mitchell, who remains a hero to our family. During The Depression, Mitchell, and his wife, stocked 2.5 million trout in many of the high country lakes in the Wind River Range by carrying the fish in milk jugs on their horses. A true mountaineer, Mitchell knew the Winds like the back of his hand. He climbed all but 20 of the 300 peaks in the range. Mitchell remained an advocate of the Wind River Range until his death in 1995.

We named our youngest son, Finis, after Finis Mitchell. (By the way, many are unaware of this, but Finis’s name was pronounced in a way that rhymes with “highness.”) Anyhow, Finis Mitchell is pretty special to us, and this was another reason we wanted to stand on top of Mitchell Peak.

The hike from the trailhead to Big Sandy Lake is a walk in the park. It’s a pretty flat 6 miles, mostly through forest and sometimes running parallel to Big Sandy River. Big Sandy Lake is beautiful, surrounded by Big Sandy Mountain, Haystack Mountain, East Temple and Mt. Scheistler. In our experience, sunlight is almost always dancing on the lake’s surface. The lake looks like it has “dancing diamonds” on top of it.

Walk past the lake and you’ll see a sign directing you up toward Jackass Pass. Think of this next section as a lung-buster — or as I like to say, an opportunity to snack on a little humble pie. excuse my language, but we often call Jackass Pass “kick your ass pass.” It’s that good. 🙂

We hiked uphill for a bit. The views, looking back, are impressive. We could see Schiestler Peak, East Temple and Temple peaks behind us. To our left was Warbonnet. Up ahead we were getting teased by Pingora, and the Cirque of the Towers, which were starting to jut out of the pass ahead of us. Also about this time, we were able to get a glimpse of Mitchell Peak.

Mitchell Peak, along with Dogtooth Mountain and Big Sandy Mountain, form a high northwest-southeast ridge on the Continental Divide.

I get excited when I am hiking along the Continental Divide. This means that precipitation that falls on the Big Sandy side eventually makes its way to the Gulf of California and the Pacific Ocean, by way of the Big Sandy, Green and Colorado rivers. Precipitation that falls to the other side eventually flows 4,000 miles to the Gulf of Mexico, by way of the Popo Agie, Bighorn, Yellowstone, Missouri and Mississippi rivers. It’s pretty cool to be walking along the backbone that splits these two realities.

North Lake.

We would descend to North Lake and then take a hard right and start our scramble up the mountain’s southern slopes. In reading about Mitchell Peak, we came across a report where Finis had indicated “even a 10-year-old could walk up.” It sounded like the route for us. (Disclaimer, a very fit 10-year-old could definitely summit Mitchell Peak, but would probably be best advised to do it during an extended camping trip in the area, rather than as a day hike from Big Sandy Opening.)

Pointing to our destination: Mitchell Peak's summit.

Beautiful flowers and Mitchell Peak in the same frame.

At just under seven miles, we reached the end of North Lake and left the trail for Mitchell. My GPS indicated we were at 10,500′, so we had about 2,000′ of vertical to go to claim Mitchell’s summit. Alrighty then. (Access to information is not always a good thing, right?) We paused and considered which route we would take. We could go to the left and follow a spring up. It looked most direct, but more treacherous than our option to the right. The route at right appeared to be more gentle so we headed that way.

This shows the terrain of our ascent.

It wasn’t long and we got past the big rocky outcrop and could start heading more directly toward Mitchell’s top. I didn’t need to check my GPS to learn we had arrived at 11,500′. I knew from past experience that, at least for me, once above 11,000,’ it’s like breathing with only part of a lung, or like someone knocked the wind out of me. So our going got slower but we could taste the summit. I mean, it was right there.

The scenery behind us and before us, was astounding. Silver granite towers jutted out of seemingly fragile alpine tundra, which was littered with boulders and delicate wildflowers.

Jerry, catching his breath.
Resting midway up Mitchell. That's the Cirque of the Towers in the background.

Finally we made it to the top. The views were even grander than we expected. We looked down upon the Cirque of the Towers, and because we were above the towers, we could see the depth of the Cirque. In all directions we had views of granite mountains, rivers and lakes tucked under cirques, some still with “blue ice” on them. Except for the summit’s high point, Mitchell’s top is pretty flat and broad. I was especially awe-struck after we ventured over to take in the views from directly above Mitchell’s 1,000-foot-tall and sheer north face. Wow.

Finis Mitchell, in his Wind River Trails book, said: “…Seldom does man ponder his own insignificance. He thinks he is master of all things. He thinks the world is his without bonds. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Only when he tramps the mountains alone, communing with nature, observing other insignificant creatures about him, to come and go as he will, does he awaken to his own short-lived presence on Earth.”

Indeed. As I sat on Mitchell’s summit taking in views of my beloved Wind River mountains, which are composed mostly of granite rock formed deep under the surface of the Earth over 1 billion years ago, I was humbled, and grateful.

By the way, when I’m not hiking — and sometimes when I am — I am a life and leadership coach and consultant. Check out EPIC LIFE, my coaching business. Epic Life provides coaching, with an option for a guided epic adventure. I also have a blog there.

Here are some photos, as well as a video blog of the day (compressed to 7 minutes).

Top of Mitchell, not quite to the high point.

Evidence that we were there.

This is what I call a peak experience.

As the saying goes: the summit is only the half-way point. To finish our epic hike, we had to turn around and return to our start. Here, Jerry starts down.
Cheers to an epic hike.

VIDEO BLOG OF THE HIKE:

Muir Beach Bliss

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I was in the San Francisco area all last week for meetings and a presentation. It was a treat to return to the Marin Headlands, and area I fell in love with during my frequent trips to the area in the past for mycoaching courses.

Last week I was headed to the hotel gym when I remembered where I was. Why would I spend time on an elliptical trainer when Muir Beach is 20 minutes away? Duh.
I enjoyed a 6-mile trail run to start the day. I love being in the presence of the ocean.

Here’s a short clip:

This Hike Takes Your Breath Away

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Hi.

It was very early morning on July 29, when reasonable people were still in their beds sleeping.

Four of my closest girlfriends met my husband and I at our house at 3:09, and by 3:17, we departed for the trailhead at Dickinson Park, about an hour-and-a-half drive. Despite the early hour, as we left Lander, it was 67 degrees outside. A couple miles outside of town, a star shot across the black sky that was heavily dotted with dazzling, sparkling stars. As we approached the trailhead, we watched a small herd of elk cross in a meadow in front of us.

Holly Copeland, Leann Sebade, Kathy Swanson, me, and Kathy Browning, on the Bears Ears Trail. (See the Bears Ears in the background)

By all indications, the day would be a stellar one.

This “epic adventure” is a trip I planned back in late spring. As readers of this blog know, one of my passions is long distance day hiking, particularly in my backyard, Wyoming’s southern Wind River Range. I love to hike far in a single day, in a landscape whose natural beauty takes my breath away, with people who are positive, interesting, fit, funny, and who are a pleasure to be around. If all goes well, my heart, mind, soul and health benefit.

I feel so strongly about the benefits of this type of epic pursuit that this hike would serve as sort of a “test drive” for a product I plan to offer in my new leadership/coaching business.

Hiking near the end of the Bears Ears Trail.
We enjoyed epic views like this one, of Grave Lake and Musembeah Peak.

There were six in our group, including Kathy Swanson, Kathy Browning, Leann Sebade and Holly Copeland, and my better half and frequent hiking companion, my husband, Jerry. (Jerry and I had this hike on our life list, but he also generously offered to help me by taking additional photos to capture the magnificence of the day.)

We would start at Dickinson Park, hike the Bears Ears Trail to its end, connect to and hike the Lizard Head Trail to the North Fork Trail, and then head back toward Dickinson Park. The start and finish are separated by two miles of dirt road. If there’s one thing we like to think we are, it’s smart, so we took two cars and dropped one at the end before we started hiking.

We hiked at altitudes of 11,000 feet to 11,700 feet for much of the day.
A huge rock formation between Bears Ears and Lizard Head trails.

The hike, according to the maps we had on hand, indicated the adventure would be about 26.2 miles — a marathon hike. (Turns out the maps were wrong; our trusty GPS, along with the signage on the trails, would indicate that in fact our loop hike measured 29.3 miles.)

The hike would start at 9,400 feet elevation and climb to just under 12,000 feet in places. For much of the hike, we would be between 11,000′ and 11,700′. All told, there was 5,700′ of elevation gain.

In other words, this adventure would be more than a long walk; it would involve some lung-busting and muscle-tearing. The payoff, of course, would be panoramic mountain views that would continue to unfold in front of us for long periods of time, as well as meaningful conversation and a fun time with kindred spirits.

Ascending a snow field at our start on the Lizard Head Trail.
My husband, Jerry, waiting for us girls.

The first three miles are a climb through gradual, but seemingly endless switchbacks through lodgepole forest. Once out of the trees, we were at 11,000′ and hiking in alpine tundra by sunrise. Like I said, by all (continuing) indications, it would be a stellar day.

The Bears Ears Trail gets its name for a rock tower formation that looks exactly like a (teddy) bear’s head, complete with its two ears on top. You can see the Bears Ears from various spots in the front/low country we frequent, so it’s a treat to walk right under it and to see it up close.

Early Native Americans, particularly the Shoshone and Crow Indians, frequented this area to hunt for bighorn sheep, and to perform religious ceremonies.

Alpine tundra and granite peaks were the flavor of the day on the Lizard Head Trail.
Brief celebration along the way.
Quick huddle.
Enjoying some thin air.

At this point, you can see Funnel Lake, before continuing through a low saddle called Adams Pass before dropping to a bridged (marsh) crossing of Sand Creek.

After crossing Sand Creek, we continued to the right of Sand Creek and ascended a rocky trail. The granite is this area is 2.5 billion years old. It’s hard not to feel insignificant in the spectrum of time when hiking amongst such old rock.

Stopping to take in the views.
Lizard Head Peak.
Happy hikers.

At the seven-mile mark, we were handed our first real prize – a jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, panoramic view of the Wind River Range. Mount Washakie and Washakie Pass, Bernard Peak, Lock Leven Lake, Chess Ridge, Mount Hooker (with its perpendicular 1,600-foot-tall face), Grave Lake, Mount Bonneville, Musembeah Peak, and more. Imagine a view of towering, silver granite, snow-covered mountain peaks with a scattering of glaciers and lakes and you get the picture.

This is a great turn-around spot for reasonable-but-fit day hikers. Even better, though, would be to do a quick scramble to the top of Mt. Chauvenet, which stands 12,250 feet tall and is right there behind you as you’re taking in these magnificent views of the Wind River Range. Jerry and I climbed it about 12 years ago and I can’t recommend it enough.

We stayed on the Bears Ears Trail and continued up, until the trail crested and we opted to enjoy a short break while taking in the awesome views.

Up next for us was connecting to the Lizard Head Trail. The Lizard Head Trail would connect us to the North Fork Trail. Some of us had previously hiked the Bears Ears Trail, as well as the North Fork Trail, but always on separate occasions and had never linked the two trails. Jerry and I had long wanted to see what Lizard Head Trail was like. In looking at a map, and having climbed the massive Lizard Head Peak in 1999, we knew it could only be awesome.

And boy, were we right about that.

Lunch with a view.
My husband, Jerry, leading us on the descent into the North Fork.

After connecting to the Lizard Head Trail and ascending a snow field, or two, we reached sweeping views of additional sections of the Wind River Range. In fact, for the next several (seven?) miles we hiked on alpine tundra that was littered with an abundance of tiny, fragile wildflowers of all colors and kinds, and lichen-covered rocks while being overshadowed by one granite peak after another to our right.

We’re talking jaw-dropping scenery. The kinds of views that can move you to tears, and, especially given the altitude, take your breath away and leave you speechless. For moments at a time.

I’m usually a swift hiker and we had a timeline to keep for this long hike. But, during this stretch, I “strolled” quite a bit. It was impossible not to. The views were just so amazing and the hiking too enjoyable. The air is thinner on this trail, though. Some of us had faint headaches and I reminded the group — and myself — to take deep breaths to counter the effects of the thin, oxygen-deprived, high altitude air. I, as well as Jerry, and the others, snapped tons of photos along this section. (As you can see from the number included in this post!)

Wildflowers and Cirque of the Towers.

After about seven miles of hiking on the Lizard Head Trail, we were afforded views of the famous Cirque of the Towers. (Yeehaw!) The Cirque of the Towers are an amazing collection of 17 peaks that provides world-class climbing. We could also see Lonesome Lake, which is situated directly below the Cirque.

Lizard Head Peak stands 12,842′ tall and is the star of this section of the Lizard Head Trail. No wonder it is the trail’s namesake. 🙂 About one mile northeast of the Cirque of the Towers, Lizard Head is the area’s dominant peak. From our vantage we enjoyed a magnificent view of its east face, which towers 2,300 feet above Bear Lake.

Here, with Lizard Head, Bear Lake, the Cirque of the Towers, Lonesome Lake, Mitchell Peak, Lizard Head Meadows and The Monolith as visuals, we stopped for a short break. This now marks the best lunch spot I’ve ever experienced.

Because we were on a timeline, and by now, knowing that the hike would be a few miles longer than the original marathon distance we had anticipated, we started moving again, descending toward the North Fork of the Popo Agie River, where we would connect to the North Fork Trail.

Once we hit the North Fork Trail, we were back in the forest. The trail was more kind — both in terms of grade and terrain. The shade was also nice, given it was early afternoon and we were hiking at a reasonable elevation. Here, many of us (re)lathered ourselves with bug spray and some of us donned head nets. Darn it — the mosquitos were out in force. Fortunately we had all expected this.

The Monolith and the North Fork of the Popo Agie River.

Rivers in the Wind River Range were/are raging right now compared to normal, given the abundance of snow and moisture our mountains received this past winter and spring. We knew we had at least four river crossings to contend with but had been informed before our departure that they were all passable. Still, we were a little anxious in anticipation, as turning back was not something we wanted to consider.

It was a few miles of level, fast hiking before we reached the first crossing. The water was swift and hit most of us in the mid- to upper-thigh for part of it. But the water felt great and we all crossed successfully, although some of us did so with more mental ease than others. I’m not a huge fan of river crossings so was glad to have this first one behind us. Reportedly, it would be the worst of the crossings.

One of five water crossings on the North Fork Trail.

The next one, however, proved to be swifter than our first. We took our time, and again, we all crossed with no more than some anxiety.

Turns out there were three other crossings that required us to de-shoe, but they were easy and the water provided a welcome relief to our tired, dirty, “protesting” feet.

Except for the bugs and the water crossings, in my opinion, the North Fork Trail is a walk in the park. From Lizard Head Meadows to Dickinson Park the distance is 13 miles and the elevation change is a mere 1,000 feet.

That said, as is usual for these long hikes, the last two miles feels like four, if not more. With about 25 miles on our legs, we were pretty much cruising through the forest with little effort. At one point, I asked Jerry, the GPS-carrier, what our elevation was and he said, “8,600 feet.” What? I asked him again two more times and each time the answer was the same. This was a little demoralizing considering I/we knew the end was located at about 9,400 feet.

The character-building portion of the hike (if there was one?) for me, and I’m guessing for the others, was at about the 26-mile mark, where we walked on a dusty, hot trail through a recently-burned section of forest and then had to grunt up a hill for about 1,000 feet only to descend a couple hundred feet and go for what was a couple more miles (that seemed like five or six) to get to the end.

Once at the end, we had cold beers in a cooler (a surprise reward from Jerry), and Kettle Chips and Rainier cherries from Leann. All hit the spot!

But the biggest reward for me, and hopefully for my comrades, is that I had gained an epic experience, memories to last a lifetime, inspiration that will serve as fuel for me, stronger friendships, and a health benefit to boot.

Yeehaw! Beers all around after an epic day.

A SHORT VIDEO:

Cyclone Pass “Prize” Makes Shoshone Lake Hike (Grunt) Worthwhile

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On Cyclone Pass July 8.

Shoshone Lake is a big lake that is in my backyard. Tucked in the foothills of Wyoming’s southern Wind River Range, the lake is situated at about 10,000′, and in the Shoshone National Forest.

My husband, Jerry, a friend, Kathy Swanson, of Casper, WY, and I hiked to Shoshone Lake and beyond on July 8. The route we hiked follows some trail, but mostly two-track/ATV road. As a result, many hikers do not hike to Shoshone Lake. Pity!

Kathy and I, with the Popo Agie Falls in the background. This is about 3 miles into the hike, on the Middle Fork Trail.

I hike to Shoshone Lake 2-3 times a year if possible. In my humble opinion, it’s the hardest (best training) marathon hike near my town of Lander, WY, and it provides one of the best views of my backyard.

Kathy, and my husband, Jerry, in Shoshone Basin.
Kathy, cruising on one of the hike's only level sections, alongside Shoshone Lake.

The “prize” — the reason we go to such great lengths on this hike — is Cyclone Pass. The top of Cyclone Pass provides one of, if not the, most glorious views of the southern Wind River Range. While one could do this as an out-and-back hike, or ride a jeep or  an ATV to Cyclone Pass and Shoshone Lake, we typically choose to hike a point-to-point route.

Kathy and I, midway up Cyclone Pass. It's a grunt!
Almost to the top of Cyclone Pass.

Our hike started at Bruce’s Bridge, about nine miles southwest of Lander. From there, we hiked seven miles on the Middle Fork Trail, to a junction that took us uphill, on a grunt, for three miles, before joining the Shoshone Lake Trail at 10 miles. From there, we hiked briefly through the forest before it opened up into the vast — and lush — Shoshone Basin. After hiking through the basin, we arrived at Shoshone Lake, which marked a little over 13 miles.

My husband, Jerry, checking out the views from top of Cyclone Pass.
Jerry and Kathy, taking in the views, and I'm guessing, voicing their relief that Cyclone Pass is behind them.

From there, it’s a mostly-level trail alongside the lake’s shore for a little over two miles. Next up is Cyclone Pass. And there are no two ways about it. Ascending Cyclone Pass is a grunt. It’s pretty much straight up over all kinds of rock scatter, and on July 8, some running water. The ascent of Cyclone Pass is about 1.5 miles and 650 vertical feet. Because it comes at a point when you have about 15 miles of mostly uphill miles on your legs, it’s a real “character-builder.”

Group timer shot.

No matter. Going uphill is not an unreasonable cost, given the prize at the top. You can hopefully see in the photos here of Cyclone Pass and get the picture. 🙂

After an extended break at top of Cyclone while taking in the awesome views, we then started our descent toward Baldwin Creek.

Kathy, on the dreaded Chute.
Jerry, on The Chute, which was more like a creek.

Despite the fact it’s all downhill from Cyclone Pass, arguably the toughest part of the day is what’s next, a 2-mile section known as The Chute. This is basically a dried-up creek bed. Some areas are nothing but rock on rock. For our hike there was a actually a stream running down much of the middle of the The Chute. It’s hard on the legs. It is sustained and unrelenting downhill on nothing but rocks on rocks. Let’s just call it what it is: another character-builder.

Following The Chute, we hike by Suicide Point, a great feature that is aptly named. From there it’s just downhill, downhill and downhill, and more rocks and rocks and rocks. To be sure, the descent, even beyond The Chute, is a very rocky one.

Kathy, in bottom right, descending last few miles of our hike.
Almost to The End of our hike.

My dad was to pick us up at the parking lot above the Shoshone Lake Switchbacks, off Baldwin Creek Road at 3 pm, but he was delayed in receiving our Spot Messenger text regarding our ETA, so we ended up descending a few of the switchbacks. (By then, in dire straits, I took a small bite of a snake on that portion. It’s my dad’s fault?) All told, we hiked about 25 miles, including 4,300′ of elevation gain.

I ate a snake. Or not. You decide.

It was an epic day. I would even go so far as to say it was stellar. It had all the important features: camaraderie, stunning views, character-building, and a reat health benefit to boot.

Beers All Around!

Here is a very short video from Cyclone Pass: