Possible Peaks

I've been going over my Glacier National Park map and comparing notes with folk I know who hike there. What I've been searching for are really impressive summits that are not technically difficult and which can be done as day-hikes. I won't be in a position to do any overnight backpacking trips, so the peaks I want to reach have to be something I can do within the span of a day.

Initially I was curious about a peak called Grizzly Mountain. Seemed to have all the criteria I was searching for. High, but not a mountain that requires technical climbing to reach. But the more I looked at it the more I realized that it's at the absolute limits of reaching as a day-hike. I got differing mileages from people who had done it, but all of them seemed to say that the hike was somewhere between 20 and 22 miles. That's just more than I want to plow into a peak. If I had two days to use I'd arrange to make it an overnight hike. But Carole and I and our friends are going to be trying to pack so much into our time in Glacier that I have to stay close at hand. So Grizzly had to be ruled out.

And finally I think I found the two peaks I can bag while I'm in the park:

Mount Helen in the Two Medicine area (where we'll be camping), and Mount Oberlin near Many Glacier. Helen is a longer hike, but well within the constraints I've set. And Oberlin is often termed as the most climbable of Glacier's major summits.

So. That's the deal, as I now see it. Things could change, but the more I look at the maps and read about the hikes, those are the two that are currently foremost in my plans.

I've never hiked peaks exactly like the ones in Glacier, so I'll be comparing them to terrain out west where I have hiked. Features such as:

On Mount Washburn, Yellowstone National Park.

Lamar Valley, Yellowstone National Park.

From Avalanche Peak, Yellowstone National Park.

Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado.

Longs Peak, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado.

Random Photos from RMNP

I took all of these in the Rocky Mountain National Park.

Too busy working on my latest novel to write any essays. Sorry.

Nice Mother Nature artwork beside a glacial tarn.

Aspens aglow and Longs Peak.

Longs Peak. Yeah, baby!

Heading above treeline on Longs Peak.

A waterfall draining Chasm Lake on Longs Peak. I was sick as shit and loopy when I took this photograph.

Mushroom Rock. It was damned cold.

I think I was pretty altitude sick when I took this. But it was interesting so I took the time to photograph it despite being hideously nauseous. Classic intrusion geology.

Addendum:

Here's what Ed Frank says about this last photo:
I think your "Classic intrusion geology." in the last photo is really nice and is really gneiss - a metamorphic rock and not an intrusive. Most intrusive bands are straight and fill cracks and joints in the initial rock. In high grade metamorphism the rocks are exposed to high amounts of heat and pressure and the mineral elements migrate and reform to form bands of minerals different from the initial rock. These form the curved contorted bands you see in the image.

Random Photos, Rocky Mountain National Park

We were only in Rocky Mountain National Park for two full days. I'd like to go back and visit it again and hike some more trails there, and get into the back country. Because most of the trip was spent in the San Juans, I haven't even processed all of my photos from the Park. Here are a few random shots.

I saw this withered husk of timber along a glacial tarn and figured it was worth being the subject of a photograph.

Longs Peak, the mightiest mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park.

Above treeline on Longs Peak. This is where I first learned all about altitude sickness first-hand.

A pretty impressive waterfall on the way to Chasm Lake. Made insignificant by the enormity of the landscape around it.

Altitude Sickness

Back in 2010 when I went to go hiking in Yellowstone, I was aware of altitude sickness and wanted to make sure that I didn't have any problems with it. To that end, I made sure to spend several days and nights strolling around in and sleeping at elevations at, or above, 8,000 feet above sea level. This I did before tackling any of the 10K-foot peaks on my hiking list.

During that trip, I never did suffer anything like altitude sickness. Or any kind of problem hiking rugged western peaks. So I figured I was among the lucky who arnen't particularly bothered by high altitude.

Boy, was I wrong!

Apparently my breaking point for suffering symptoms of altitude sickness is about 11,500 feet. Because whenever I'd get to, or break that level in Colorado I'd get sick.

The first time the illness manifested in me was on the hike to see Chasm Lake on the shoulders of Long's Peak, the highest summit in Rocky Mountain National Park. I began to fee queasy not long after we broke the treeline (11,000 feet or so), and began to get really sick the higher we went. My hiking companions soon had to leave me behind because I just couldn't keep up with them. Occasionally one would lag back to take photos and I'd crawl ahead, but they would catch up in due time.

At one point, when I was taking photos of a particularly spectacular view, Andy Kunkle caught up to me and I was quite literally babbling like a complete idiot. He was worried and suggested that I turn around. But I was just at the shelf of rock below Chasm Lake and by Jove I was going to climb on up and see that fucking pond!

And this is why altitude sickness is so freaking dangerous. Your judgment is impaired and you end up doing stupid shit that gets you injured or killed. I could very well have gotten hurt pushing on beyond what were my limits, but I did it anyway. Fortunately, I didn't get any sicker or hurt, but I continued to suffer from altitude sickness for most of the remainder of the trip, finally acclimating to the high elevations at the very end of my vacation.

Standing below this vast peak, like the prow of a ghost ship cutting through the clouds, I was very sick, but not too sick to be struck by the awesome beauty of the place. It was here one of my hiking pals found me babbling like an oxygen-starved diver.

And the big fool says, "Push on."

What I refused to turn back before seeing.

Writing and Blogging.

I'm going to scale back on the posting of photos and commentary in the next week or two. I'll still post, but in abbreviated fashion. I have several novel projects that I  need to complete so that will be the focus of my free time.

We were all amused by this sign on the trail to Chasm Lake. It's a popular trail into the high country with a grand view of "the Diamond", one of the sheer technical walls for climbers wishing to conquer Longs Peak. The Park Service wants those climbing into the tundra to either use the pair of vault toilets before going any further, or to take one of the free human waste bags and carry their feces down from the mountain and dispose of the hideous stuff far below in a trash receptacle. They don't want you to dump the bags in the vault toilets where they will just clog the system. Of course we all thought the poorly worded "Do Not Put Down Vault Toilet" warning was funny. As if the toilet was sensitive to criticism.

This is "The Diamond", the sheer cliff leading from Chasm Lake to the summit of Longs Peak. People scale that monster with cams and ropes and nerves of steel. I'm not into that stuff, but if it floats yer boat...