Thursday, August 3, 2000 - Climb from Moore's Park to The Boulderfield

Joe and I knew we had a pretty long day ahead of us, but that didn't stop us from taking our own sweet time breaking camp.  We'd be taking full packs to the Boulderfield, 7 miles and 3,000 vertical feet away.

No matter which way you look at it, the approach to Longs is LONG.  Sure, there are longer approaches out there, but not too many that I'll be doing with a full pack anytime soon.  It's a nice hike, though, with a beautiful transition from forest to alpine tundra.

Joe and I encountered some pretty interesting people on our way to the Boulderfield.  We crossed paths with a scout troop from West Des Moines.  We also saw one kid on his way down, gasping for air and only saying two words:  "Long.  Tired."  Joe and I had figured that we were the last ones headed up when a single hiker passed us while we were taking a break.  We knew we were "behind schedule", and one look at this guy suggested that he didn't know what he was getting into.  He stopped briefly and told us "If you see a 58-year-old man staggering up, tell him I'll come back for him after I set up camp."  Great.

Joe and I continued on, marching up the last long switchbacks to the edge of the Boulderfield.  We stopped at a small stream to collect water, and by the time our water bottles were full a storm had come over the top of Storm Peak.  (How appropriate.)  The Boulderfield was chosen as a campsite because of its protection from lightning, but all such things are relative and the sight of lightning striking near the other side of the Boulderfield certainly didn't help our confidence. Ditching my trekking poles, Joe and I quickly scampered through the boulders towards the campsite, a little less than a quarter of a mile away.

Sure enough, at the campsite we found our less-than-prepared friend, clumsily trying to put up his tent in the rain.  We hadn't seen the 58-year-old he had referred to, a man who we correctly assumed was his father.  Apparently "Dad" was the tent expert, because "Son" was having all sorts of problems with the tent.  Joe and I pitched in and helped "Son" finish setting up his tent, which was by now filled with an uncomfortable amount of water.  "Son" invited us in to avoid the rain, but Joe and I agreed that we would probably stay drier sitting out in the rain.  Gore-Tex is a wonderful thing.

Once the storm passed Joe and I were able to set up camp and make dinner.  We were basically exhausted and a good meal and a night's sleep sounded very, very nice.  We also observed "Son" telling people on their way down "If you see a 58-year-old man clutching his heart on the side of the trail, tell him that his son will be coming down to get him."  Great.

As was routine by now, Joe and I finished cooking, setting up camp, and packing for the next day just as it was getting dark.  I set my alarm, hoping for an early start the next morning.  Yeah, right.

Last Updated:  Saturday, October 14, 2000