Friday, August 4, 2000 - The Boulderfield to the Summit and down to Big Owl Road

I'm not sure what time I set my alarm for, but I know that Joe and I basically ignored it.  Eventually the wind whipping our tent and sound of climbers passing just outside our window was enough to get us out of our sleeping bags.  We didn't have much work to do and we set out for the Keyhole shortly after 7:00 am.

The Keyhole wasn't far away but the closer we got the more people we noticed turning around.  The Keyhole was where our friendly Ranger Ray told us to "fish or cut bait", and about half the people were cutting bait due to dark skies to the west.  One descending climber even told us that "only the stupid ones are continuing."  How reassuring if we should decide to continue.  I really didn't want to risk getting caught in anything nasty, but Joe and I continued on to have a look for ourselves.

We sat at the Keyhole for about 20 minutes.  It was dark to the west, but it was a strange dark, not like storm clouds.  Besides, 8:00 am would be a really strange time for a Rocky Mountain thunderstorm.  We were interested in the opinions of those passing through and those turning back, and finally we found a local (which is harder than you might think on Longs) who confirmed what we had suspected.  The darkness was just thick haze from the massive wildfires throughout the west.  We continued on across the Ledges.

The Ledges were a new kind of climbing for me and a dramatic difference from the climb to the Boulderfield.  It's a long, continuous scramble, with some considerable exposure.  Nothing very dangerous, at least not dangerous when dry.  Add snow, ice, or even rain to the mix and Longs takes on a meaner personality.  Joe and I didn't have those worries, but we did have to be careful to stay on the route.  Because the going can get a bit dicey and not all the climbers on Longs really know what they're doing, the Park Service has marked the trail with a series of of "targets", which some people say look a bit like fried eggs.  In some ways those painted spots on the rocks are a bit of a detraction from the landscape, but without them there would be a whole lot more people in a whole lot more trouble.

Past the Ledges is the Trough.  The Trough is a couloir with a lot of loose rock and some relatively quick vertical.  This is where you want to steer clear of clumsy climbers, because the rocks they dislodge can whiz by you at uncomfortable speeds.  So step lightly and when in doubt, pass.  Unlike the Ledges, the couloir is a part of the climb that could be nice with snow and ice.  But that will have to come some other day...

At the top of the Trough is the Notch, the gateway to the Narrows.  In many ways the Narrows is similar to the Ledges, but with fewer boulders and more exposure.  Some passages are too narrow to pass on, and hardly any of it is more than a few feet wide.  But it's a lot of fun.  After the Narrows is the Homestretch.  From what we had heard, and even just by the sound of the name, the Homestretch was supposed to be the last simple walk up to the summit plateau.  Wrong.  Very wrong.  It's steep, longer than we thought, and rather smooth, like something you'd like to slide down (if there was a bottom, which there isn't).  For Joe and I it was mostly an all-fours scramble up to the odd but beautiful 4-acre summit plateau of Longs Peak.

The top of Longs, while rocky, is amazingly broad and flat.  Even more amazing is what you can find people doing at the summit.  There's a story about a five-piece brass band that carried their instruments to the summit for a concert.  Rick, on his climb of Longs, recalls some climbers having a picnic, complete with tablecloth, cheese, crackers, wine, and fine silver.  In that tradition, I suppose that Joe and I shouldn't have been surprised to find somebody serving ice cream to climbers on the summit.  The guy had apparently packed up some Breyer's in dry ice, but unfortunately Joe and I were a bit to late to share in the fun.

Joe and I did the normal summit routine - eat, rest, look around, and take pictures.  The haze seriously limited our visibility, but it was a nice view nonetheless.  We didn't stay very long, knowing that our day was a long way from over.  We descended (literally) by the seat of our pants.  The Homestretch, in particular, is steep enough to warrant a lot of "five point" moves.

We did pass "Dad" and "Son" on their way to the summit.  Not surprisingly, they were at the back of the pack and headed up a little late in the day.  Joe and I continued down and around the Narrows, the Trough, and the Ledges until we were back at the Keyhole.  There were a lot of climbers bunched up here, many of them sprawled out on rocks getting some rest.  Joe and I rested too, even though we were within sight of the tent.  Here's where things get a bit more interesting...

As we moved down from the Keyhole into the Boulderfield I could tell that something wasn't right with my tent.  It was a mess.  When we got into camp I could see that the wind had really done some damage.  Several of the poles were bent and the fabric was torn, and all that was left was a heap of Eureka.  Even though it had been windy in the early morning hours, I hadn't given it any thought when we left for the summit.  The tent had been difficult to stake down due to the rocky nature of the Boulderfield, and the stuff we left inside apparently wasn't enough to hold it in place.  Joe and I weren't too worried about it, and the biggest disappointment was probably the fact that we had nowhere to take a nap.  That's probably a good thing, seeing how it was mid-afternoon by that time and we still had a lot of hiking to do.  We didn't know if we could rig the tent to make it through another night at our planned campsite for the night at Goblins Forest.  We figured the best thing we could do would be to just pack up and think about it on the trail.

As I was trying to figure out how to get my mangled tent into my pack, Joe and I were graced with the presence of a very cheerful hiker just arriving at the Boulderfield from the trailhead.  He announced his wishes of occupying a campsite by saying something like "If I don't find an open spot I'm going to rip down the first tent without a permit dated for tonight."  My tent definitely fit his description, although the ripping-down process had pretty much taken care of itself.  He then verified his positive attitude by saying "If I sound like an asshole it's because I'm tired and all I want to do is put up my tent and go to sleep."  This would have been a good time for the classic line "Yeah, but tell us how you really feel," but I didn't have the energy to be that sarcastic.

Hiking down went quite fast.  It was still a long way, but Joe and I were making very good time.  We passed a climber that was receiving assistance from Park Service personnel.  He was on oxygen and a ranger was calling in a helicopter rescue.  We learned later that the man had suffered a seizure on his way to the Boulderfield.  Given the landscape, neither Joe nor I envied the helicopter pilot who had to land amongst the boulders.

It was early evening when we reached Goblins Forest.  We stopped and checked out the place but decided to just head for the car.  It had started to sprinkle and neither of us wanted to mess with the tent.  From there we went as quickly as our sore feet would take us, stopping only to sign out near the trailhead.  I checked the log and there had been 6 pages of entries since we had signed in about 48 hours before.  At 32 entries per page and figuring at least 2-3 climbers per group, that amounts to around 400-600 climbers.  And it wasn't quite the weekend yet.

We got to the car, tossed in our gear, did some minor clean-up in the bathroom, and headed for Estes Park in search of food, showers, and hopefully a place to stay.  We decided to check at the KOA, hoping for a Kamping Kabin (again, didn't want to mess with the tent).  Joe asked very nicely but was almost laughed out of the building.  Finding something after 8 pm on a Friday night in Estes Park was not going to be much of an option.  Oh well, on to other priorities.  The people at the KOA did direct us to some public showers at a local laundromat.  The place was called "Dad's Laundromat" and while there was nothing extraordinary about the facility (although it was pretty nice), Dad himself was awesome.  He personally cleaned and disinfected each shower after every use and took time to talk to everybody.  In any case it was a well-spent $3.

Joe and I grabbed some food at the KFC/Taco Bell and talked about where we could spend the night.  We had climbed for 12 hours that day and were totally exhausted.  I think we would have slept in the restaurant if we thought we could get away with it.  We decided to head back to the Longs Peak trailhead and take advantage of our parking permit.  We figured that with so many people showing up during the night to start their Saturday climb, we could hide in the shadows and get some sleep in the car.  It wasn't much of a plan, but we didn't have very many other options.

We hadn't been in the parking lot 3 whole minutes when a park ranger named Bob came tapping at the window.  He knew exactly what we were doing, but he was extremely nice about it and explained some options.  We actually talked for quite a while and it turns out that Ranger Bob had been on Longs earlier in the day and had been the ranger that called in the helicopter rescue.  As for getting some sleep, Ranger Bob explained that sleeping in the parking lot was considered camping, which wasn't allowed.  We could, however, camp out for free on some forest service land down the road.  We needed to look for Big Owl Road, which Ranger Bob told us we could remember by thinking about "Big Al Bundy and his No Ma'am T-shirt".  This guy was getting cooler by the minute.

The forest service roads were a bit rough for the car, but we managed to find a place to pull over.  It was now after 10:00 and the place was a bit eerie in a unibomber-hideout sort of way.  Joe and I, now beyond tired, decided to talk until almost 3 in the morning.  Go figure.

Last Updated:  Friday, October 20, 2000