Notchtop Mountain/Spire via South Gully.

Notchtop has been a summit I have been both looking forward to and dreading.  It's one of the few things I have left to do in the park, and most often climbed via a number of technical routes.  

Two years ago I took the Flattop Trail up with the intention of climbing this peak.  I got to the Continental Divide just west of the summit, and I was intimidated.  Plus, my leg hurt with every single step up.  It didn't feel right, but I sat there trying to convince myself to go on.  I turned back, and got in to see my doctor later that day, who diagnosed a stress injury.  It was nice to relax for a week, yet this summit has remained on my mind since then.

Since I've been up and down Flattop enough for any one person, I decided to head to Lake Helene, and ascend with the fourth class gully described in Fosters book.

Another beautiful sunrise from the trail.

The first look at Notchtop, and yes I was still intimidated!

 

From near Lake Helene.  

I followed the trail near the lake, losing it in some rockier and bushier terrain west of there.  Ah well, it was easy enough to just keep heading up.

At the bottom of the gully, looking up.  This would essentially take me back to the same place I was at two years ago.  

Looking down as elevation was gained.  There were a few short sections of scrambling and route finding.  As this is one of the down climbs for the technical routes, there was a social trail put in here and there. 

Looking south to Flattop and Hallett.  

Back to the rock of the Continental Divide.
I think last time I was under the mistaken impression that you stayed right on top of the ridge.  This time I'd done some more research, and knew one had to stay on the south side of the ridge.  Still I went up for a look.  It was exposed!  The theme of the day.
There is an obvious social trail to lead you the proper way.  Here are a few pictures of the route.  Sorry mom. 

Follow the path of least resistance...

A few cairns here and there...

Lots of extremely exposed scrambling, but the rock is solid...
I made it to the summit of Notchtop Mountain, as stated in Fosters book.  This is the highest point on the ridge EAST of the divide.  But this isn't the thing people come to climb.  People come to climb Notchtop Spire.  This is shown as the true summit in other places, such as Listsofjohn.  

Notchtop Spire from Notchtop.
Yeah, it looked scary, puckery, eek, exposed, or whatever other word you want to use.  I looked down at the broken ramp, which looked to be about a foot wide from where I was.  "Maybe," I thought, or perhaps said out loud, "I'll be coming back for this one with a Dan and a rope."
I carefully descended down to the notch, then kept south (right) of the spire.  A small boulder stands between you and the ramp.  It was an easy climb.

And the ramp turned out to be about five feet wide.  Take this until it dead ends at a crack.  Then, up the crack.  Then a few steps up and across a slab.  Then to the top.

The summit of Notchtop Spire, 12080+ feet.
Phew!  I was there, but I was only halfway there.  I still had to go back!

Looking down the slab near the summit.  It's hard to tell from the perspective, but the lighter stuff on the right is the ground... under a few thousand feet of air.  Do not fall here.

Looking up from the bottom of the slab. 

And down the cracks to the ramp, with a steep drop off and lots of air on the left.
I carefully went back over the boulder at the bottom of the ramp and made my way back to the summit of Notchtop Mountain.

I was breathing easier here; I was now past the most difficult and exposed movement.

The summit of Notchtop Mountain.
I carefully made my way back to the Continental Divide.  I made it and sat for a snack.

The rocky spine of Notchtop Mountain.
I was relieved and joyed to check this one off.  While only fourth class by this method, I would suggest this is one of the most difficult peaks in the park.  I would also suggest that while it's only fourth class, being able to climb fifth class is mandatory here.  A fifth class climber will definitely have an easier time with the moves required, and will (hopefully) be able to keep a cooler head with the exposure.
But the day was young, and I'd decided to go take another look at Hayden Spire.  I set off at a jog across Bighorn Flats, and climbed Sprague Mountain again (third time this year!).  It was an easy descent from here to get to the area.

Once again, I was looking for the mythical third class route described by Richard Rossiter in his RMNP books.  Keep in mind that anything I say from here on is not to talk crap on him, or stir anything up.  I was just interested in dedicating a few hours to see if I could find this route that no one else has.
First I decided to head around to the standard 5.6 route, which climbs the spire from the east.  It's some third class exposed movement on the south face to even get here.  Up a crack system, down a boulder, and I was there.  

At the start of the difficulties.  While I was confident I could do the moves, I was not comfortable doing the moves without a rope.  I went back the way I came and decided to take a look at the west face- this is the face he claims to have walked down to the Continental Divide.
First you need to climb the head wall to get close.  While well featured, this slab had a mantle move that was definitely fifth class.  The rest I'd agree with third or fourth.

I got to this point, and didn't see a safe way forward.  I could've crossed a knife ridge to get to the slab under the overhang, and traverse around to the left, but I couldn't see what was beyond that.  And there was nothing under the slab.  I guess long story short, I did not see a viable route here, at least one that I felt comfortable doing unroped.  You can see how achingly close I was to the summit, but I turned back.

The head wall below the summit.
With some more research, there is a 5.3 route that climbs the wall on the south side of this face, and is soloable.  Maybe that's where Richard came down?
Conclusions:
1.  He climbed it in 1994 but the route he took no longer exists- perhaps the rock has broken since then.
2.  He was having a strong day, having climbed the 5.6 route up from Lonesome Lake, and perhaps the descent didn't feel as hard as it really is.
3.  He got confused/turned around/??? and climbed something other than Hayden Spire.
3a.  While I certainly believe his saying that he climbed it, perhaps he didn't and took the word of others that there was a third class route.
4.  I suck at route finding (a distinct possibility!).
5.  Knowing that this controversy has existed for years, he should've went back and repeated the route to see if he felt it was truly third class before releasing a new edition of his book, and again calling the route third class.
Again, this is not to call him out, just opinion backed by multiple photographs.  And Richard, if you happen to read this, I would be happy to discuss with you.  You can take any photo on this website of Hayden Spire and draw the route you took on it for clarity.  It's not a short day to get here, but I'd be happy to return with you.
So the weather wasn't looking great, and I caught a few raindrops as I descended Sprague Mountain.  I ran out of water as I was going up, and was happy to hit and refill from Eureka Ditch.  I alternated between running and hiking as the terrain allowed. 

Notchtop from Flattop- see the last photo for annotations.

Another view as the trail curved around.
I ran down the trail as much as possible, setting a new pr for the descent.  Since I was here and had some time, I decided to visit a few of places I've yet to visit.
First, Tuxedo Park, a small pullout picnic area near Moraine Park.  

Pleasant enough, but not my cup of tea.
I drove up Trail Ridge Road a bit, then turned down 34 to head towards the Lawn Lake th.  There is a small pullout on the right side of this descent, and I parked there and walked the closed to vehicles road to Little Horseshoe Park.

The view of Deer Mountain was superb.

There's an old stable, now used by RMNP for storage for... toilets.  Yep, there was a pile of the white plastic toilets used in the back country sites.  Other assorted items contained within.
I continued down the road and the view opened up:

Beauty!  What a marvelous place, and so close to the road.  There was no one there and I enjoyed the brief solitude so close to the road.
I got back to the car and headed down to home.  This day was seized and I felt satisfied.  

Annotated photo of Notchtop.  Excuse my misspelling.  Apparently, Kent Dannens RMNP book says the highest point of the Continental Divide closest to the ridge containing Notchtop IS Notchtop.  It's not, but I guess a logical conclusion given the other -top peaks in the area are on/close to the divide.  
So I guess it depends on how you look at it.  Notchtop Spire is clearly not the summit if you consider the highest point east of the divide to be the summit.  But Notchtop Mountain is not the summit if you look at the most difficult point, and consider what it is that people actually come here to climb.  Maybe these should be two distinct summits?
It was definitely satisfying to stand on this summit; it does not come easy, and was one I certainly had some emotional investment in.  Again, while this route may "only" be fourth class, I would consider fifth class experience mandatory to reach the summit from this method of ascent.  A helmet is also mandatory, as you will be below rock that could fall on you for most of the route.  Learning to read the first time was hard enough!  Any fall along the way would likely result in death.  Take your time and move with purpose.
Link to hike map/GPX on Caltopo.
Notchtop via South Gully:
Notchtop Mountain, 12129 feet: 4.44 miles, 2654 foot gain.  Fourth class, with the gully approaching fifth class.  Helmet required.  Strenuous.
Notchtop Spire, 12080+ feet: 4.6 miles, 2605 foot gain.  Fourth class, helmet required.  Strenuous.
Sprague Mountain, 12713 feet: 8.5 miles, 3263 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Hayden Spire, 12500 feet: 9.1 miles, 3025 foot gain.  Fifth class.  A summit will wait...
In total, this day covered 18.95 miles with 6673 feet of elevation gain, with time in extremely exposed fourth and low fifth class terrain.  Strenuous+.

Bear Lake to Milner Pass to Bear Lake.

If memory serves me correctly, Dan and I discussed doing the Continental Divide traverse as described in Fosters book in 2013, shortly after we met.  It sounded like a pretty big day hiking wise.  While doable with two people, it would require both to drive to Bear Lake to drop a car, then to drive to Milner Pass, then to drive back to Milner Pass to pick up the car upon completion of the hike.  And then back home, or to where ever to collapse in a heap of tired.

Of course, the years in between have sort of redefined "big day" to both of us.  As usual, over the winter when I can't get out as much, I start mapping on Caltopo.  "What if?" "How far can I really go in a day?" "Could I connect all these peaks together?"

While long, it didn't look too crazy, with mileage in the low 30's and an elevation gain of around 9000 feet.  Well, maybe that's a little crazy!

I started out from Bear Lake just after 6am.  There were a few other cars in the parking lot, and a few people getting ready for hikes.  As I thought, I encountered snow on the trail from the Dream Lake lookout up to around treeline, then a large patch above treeline below the final climb to the summit of Flattop. 

Snow on the trail, easy to navigate without traction, and able to hold full body weight.
I made the summit of Flattop in 1:30, a new pr.  I was moving well thus far, but there was still a good distance to go.  I stuck to the Tonahutu Trail as it started to drop on the west side before cutting off across Bighorn Flats. 

Going over there.  Way over there.
While the climb up Flattop is a few thousand feet, the climb from Sprague Pass up to Sprague Mountain marked the first major climb in my mind.  It's about 1000 feet of gain in a mile, and most of that is above 12000 feet.

Sprague Mountain.

North from the summit of Sprague.
I was just under three hours in and feeling good, with approximately one quarter of the mileage under my belt.  I knew there wasn't much technical terrain in front of me, with the worst being between Chief Cheley and Mount Ida, but I wouldn't be back below 12000 feet for real until nearly 2.5 miles past Mount Ida.

Longs and points south from Sprague. 

Above the Onahu basin.
Mount Eleanor comes and goes fairly quickly, with a short but avoidable scramble to reach the top.  I was the last registered ascent from last year.  Staying up on the ridge from here on brought pretty easy terrain, with a little talus hopping near the high point SE of Chief Cheley.
Another few hundred feet of gain, and I was on ranked peak 12820/Liberty Point, between Chief Cheley and Cracktop.  I stayed on top and followed the ridge to Chief Cheley Peak.  It's on talus with just a touch of scrambling to reach the summit.
And then, down.  I was still feeling good, but this mile was my slowest of the day in each direction.  I think it was a combination of the loss/gain, terrain (class 2 but rocky and a little loose), and elevation.

Mount Ida from the saddle. 

Looking down to the gorgeous Gorge Lakes basin.  Highest Lake was still largely encased in ice, with the others largely melted.
As I approached the summit of Ida, I heard some voices and called out so I wouldn't startle them.  Due to poor planning, I had run out of water on Chief Cheley.  Since these guys had come up from Milner Pass, I asked if they encountered any ambient water near where we were on that side.  I had a filter and tablets, but just needed something to filter or tablet!
They said no.  For the first time in my hiking life, I became that guy and asked if I could have some water if they had some to spare.  I hate that guy!  My main concern was not hydration, as I knew I'd have all I could drink in several miles, but nutrition.  I'd need some moisture to get those bars down.
They were able to help out with about a third of a liter.  Enough to keep me going.  To Sean and Zion, thank you so, so much.  It will never be forgotten.

Bighorn on the other side of Mount Ida.
The trail high up isn't very distinct, and I also dropped down in search of a puddle I could tap into.  I was able to find water off trail in about 20 minutes, and filled up a liter or so.  Just enough to keep me going until the more available water in the Milner Pass area.
I ran most of the downhill, passing several people going up.  It seemed like it was too late to be heading up above treeline, but the weather forecast was great, and here I was about to do the same.
Arriving at Milner Pass was a bit of a shock.  Lots of cars and people, and yes I did get asked to take a photo for a family in front of the Continental Divide sign, and did so happily. 

Selfie at the sign.
I used the restroom, disposed of empty food wrappers, stretched, and was back enroute to Bear Lake.
I encountered a family on the way back up I saw on the way down.  "Didn't we see you coming down?"
"Yes, but I'm being motivated today, though I'm regretting that now."
"Well, I'm sure you'll make it."
"Thank you," I said.  I should've told them were I was going back to!

Beauty on the Mount Ida trail.
But the beauty was deceptive.  It was super windy, enough that I was getting blown uphill off the trail at times.  While the weather looked good, I could see it was raining to the west of me, in the area of the Never Summers.  Of course, since it was so windy, the rain was blowing almost sideways and hitting me.  I put on the rain jacket.
And then came the graupel.  I got cold quickly.  I passed one of the people I saw going up when I was going down and asked if she would give me a ride back to the east side.  She said yes.  I said I was going to continue to the summit and see if it got better.  She asked if I wanted to just go back with her.
I almost said yes.  I was quite cold, and despite my plan to easily hike this side, I was now running to keep warm.  We parted ways and I continued on, finding a rock outcrop soon after which allowed me to get out of the weather and put on the tights I had with me.  I was able to warm up quickly and continue, but this marked the start of a fairly hard period.  I was pretty down on the situation and got into a bad/sad/upset/negative mood that lasted all the way to the second summit of Sprague Mountain.

Inkwell Lake melting out.

The view south from 12820.
The weather had cleared, and I was not precipitated upon again.  The wind even dropped a little.  However, my mood did not improve, and the idea of trying to move quickly did not appeal at all.  As I was finding, the downhills on the way back generally tended to be steeper and/or rockier, and therefore more of a challenge to actually run. 

A slight variance on the route on the way back had me find this bone.  No other remnants were seen in the area.  It seemed like a strange place to find a single bone, above 12400 feet.  Obviously it got there somehow.
I was thinking highly unpositive thoughts while slogging back up Sprague Mountain.  The expletives were flowing free from my mouth, and I am not normally one to use them.  My cursing became so creative I established combinations so futuristic they have never been heard by human ears before, and won't be first linked in writing for at least another 50 years.  I will refrain from publishing them here, but when you hear them in 2067, I was the originator. 
Why was I here?  What was the point?  Again, I was feeling no joy, only misery.  When I got back home, I was going to write a strongly worded letter to the management (which I suppose is myself; the letter must have been lost in the mail).
But the tides turned at last.

The second summit of Sprague Mountain, with Hayden Spire prominent.
I'd been signing into the few registers I found (Sprague, Eleanor, and 12820) with my out time, and now I added my back time to the final one.  I had about eight miles to go, and it would be pretty easy relatively speaking, with no major gain.  I ran out of water again, but I knew I could fill up at Eureka Ditch.  And I'd spend a whole mile and a half below 12k as I met the low point on Bighorn Flats.
As I climbed the Flattop Trail early in the morning, I found myself excited to run down it.  It was rocky and technical.  Of course it occurred to me it would be fun to run it back, as long as I still felt like running, that is!

I've been finding Elk parts on Bighorn Flats for a few years, and finally found the skull this time.  Sprague Mountain in the background.
Back on the trail I felt like I was flying.  I jogged much of the stretch from the time I met the Tonahutu trail up until the final climb back up Flattop.  I ate a snack as I started to head down, and then picked the pace up.  I was determined to beat my time up the peak, and set a goal of an hour to do so.

Sunlight on Longs from the Emerald Lake overlook.
I had to stop a few times to take some clothing off, as things warmed up.  And I wasn't so motivated to move quickly through the rocky parts.  But I was able to put a good effort in, and finally rejoined the Fern Lake Trail, then the Bierstadt Lake Trail.  I was almost there!
I didn't see anyone until I got back to Bear Lake, which was still teeming with tourists.  I wonder how I must look to them, wild eyed, dried salt and sweat on my face, nose red from rubbing.  Was it clear that I'd been out for the entire day?
I told myself that I needed to tell someone what I'd been up to, and decided I'd talk to a ranger when I arrived, if one were still there.  To my disappointment, they'd already left for the day and I quickly became another one of the many people at the trail head.  I was successful in the descent, logging 1:06.  It certainly could've been faster, but after this day, I was satisfied with that. 
Now I finally felt it- the elation of a long day spent in the mountains.  The original planning months ago, and the final planning the week before.  The training and getting stronger as time went on.  Encountering some tough times during the day and persevering.  The setting a difficult goal, and meeting it.  Over the day I experienced the entire range of human emotion, and it wasn't always positive, but back at the car I felt happy.
Link to hike map/GPX on Caltopo.
Bear Lake to Milner Pass to Bear Lake (distances as part of the hike):
Flattop Mountain, 12324 feet: 4.1 miles, 2874 foot gain.
Sprague Mountain, 12713 feet: 8.4 miles, 3263 foot gain.
Mount Eleanor, 12380 feet: 9.6 miles, 2930 foot gain.
12820/Liberty Point: 11.2 miles, 3370 foot gain.
Chief Cheley Peak, 12804 feet: 11.5 miles, 3354 foot gain.
Mount Ida, 12900 feet: 12 miles, 3450 foot gain.
Milner Pass, 10759 feet: 16.9 miles, 1309 foot gain.
Mount Ida: 21.9 miles, 2141 foot gain (from Milner Pass).
Chief Cheley Peak: 22.4 miles, 2045 foot gain.
12820/Liberty Point: 22.7 miles, 2061 foot gain.
Mount Eleanor: 24.3 miles, 1621 foot gain.
Sprague Mountain: 25.5 miles, 1954 foot gain.
Flattop Mountain: 29.9 miles, 1565 foot gain.
Bear Lake, 9450 feet: 34.39 miles, 1309 foot loss.
As a whole, this day covered 34.39 miles with 9503 feet of elevation gain.  It took me 13 hours, 11 minutes, and 43 seconds.  It certainly could've been faster, and it would be fun to try again.  There is some easy scrambling between 12820 and Mount Ida, but the main difficulty is the extended time above treeline.  Strenuous+.

McHenrys Notch via Flattop Mountain.

Before I even start, just let me gush a little bit: these are the kind of days I absolutely love.  A long day above treeline, stringing together a line of peaks with some technical difficulties near the end, and then a drop down to a secluded and beautiful alpine lake.  It could only be made better by making the return trip past Black Lake, Jewel Lake, and Mills Lake, some of my all time favorites!  

With a 30% chance of thunderstorms predicted after noon, I got an early rise, and left the car at Bear Lake at 4:32.  I was hoping I'd be able to move quickly while on trail, to make up for the slower movement sure to come while talus hopping.

Presunrise from the trail.

The absurdity of this all sort of struck me.  I'd be doing a pretty big day to visit one thing, the notch pictured in the distance here.  But there are going to be a few days like that this year.  

A little bit closer up.  

I was above treeline as the sun broke the horizon, and moving well so far.  

I went right past Flattop and headed for Hallett.  I was on the summit for this great view exactly two hours after I left the car, and about fifty minutes after sunrise.  It was pretty neat to be able to see all the peaks I'd be visiting over the day.

I didn't get the camera out again until Taylor Peak.  This is the third time I've been on top of it since June.   

Looking back to whence I came on this glorious day.

I noticed that you can indeed see Lake Catherine from Taylor Peak.  This is one of the most isolated lakes in the park.  In a short time, I'd see another.

Between Taylor and Powell, Chiefs Head on the left and Mount Alice on the right.

At Powell.  My speed really went downhill after Otis Peak.  My hip was hurting and I wasn't able to jog.  I guess I just didn't feel motivated.

To McHenrys.  I'd say this is one of the more difficult peaks in the park, with sustained class three climbing from the easiest route, which was on the opposite side of where I was.  From the Notch, I've read 5.3.  I got my helmet out, because from here on I'd be in some loose terrain. 
I've read a few other trip reports where it sounded like people had some trouble finding the correct gully to get to the notch.  From the summit of Powell, move toward Alice.  You should find the gully in just a few steps.  Here's what it looks like from the top.

Powell Lake at the bottom of the gully.  Like Lake Catherine it is a long approach to get here.

Looking back up the gully from near the top.  It was solid for a short amount of time, but overall, pretty loose, though I'd say only second class.  As you head down, keep an eye on the wall to your left.  You have to go down a few hundred feet, but eventually you'll see a cairn.

There it is.  There was a fallen one out of this photo on the lower left.  I rebuilt it to aid any future adventurers.  

 Lake Powell and Mount Alice proved to be quite photogenic from this angle. 

Another cairn.  There were some along the way, but a few places devoid of them.  However, I felt the route was pretty easy to follow.  You are just traversing around the rock rib to your left, and want to stay at the same elevation essentially.  I thought there were a few third class moves here, but it was nowhere near the slippery, lichen covered ledge systems I've ready of others taking.  

But of course, you don't want to fall here!

You end up spit out in the gully containing the notch itself, maybe a hundred feet or so below the notch proper.  It's easy movement to the top.  

Looking NE from the notch.  The couloir still looked packed with snow from what I could see.

And once more, Lake Powell.

Looking back down the notch on the SW side.  Not too bad to come up.
I looked at the climb up out of the notch.  Imposing, yes, but I have read many trip reports from people who I think have a similar level of experience and ability.  I wasn't too worried.
The first fifty feet or so are solidly in third and fourth class.  Then, you hit the first crux.  I'd agree with 5.3, though the holds are large and there are quite a bit of them.  Enough really, that you can kind of choose precisely which way you want to go.  Just make sure you stay on the SW side of the ridge, as that is the path of least resistance. 

Past the crux, I found the lower rappel sling, and it looked in great shape.  While exposed, I'd say this section was back into third and fourth class, with fairly wide ledges.  You could sit down and take a break here if you wanted to.

Looking up at more climbing- I think I initially spied a way up this, but ended up feeling it was too exposed and headed to the left side to find some bigger holds.

The higher rappel is almost directly across here.  Zoom in and look for a blue sling again.

I got past the technical difficulties, and found myself on a ridge.  I looked back to Powell Peak.  So close, yet so far away!

This is what you'll find above the notch.  A pretty easy walk on talus.  Well easy compared to what was just climbed.  

You can see this continue towards the summit.
And the summit of McHenrys, what an oddity!  After all that difficulty it seems like you should get to a towering pinnacle with room for one cheek at the top with bald eagles circling all around, looking at you and thinking, "Jolly good show human.  You're pretty cool!".  But, like on Longs, there is a fairly flat and broad summit plateau.  I've read about the shock of encountering this from others, and they were right. 

Near the summit.

Very close to the summit, with great views of Longs, Keyboard of the Winds, Pagoda, Chiefs Head, and The Spearhead.  It's been awhile since I've visited Upper Glacier Gorge, and I've forgotten how beautiful it is.
For those of you who've followed this website for a few years, you may remember July 22nd is an important date to me.  This was the day in the year 2010 that a friend of mine lost a several year long battle with cancer.  On or around that day every year, I get to some place amazing and remember her.  This year that place was McHenrys Peak on July 25th.  I wrote a message to her in the register, and said a few words before continuing down.  Liberty, much love to you now and forever.

The Stone Man and Chiefs Head.
I had a few options from here.  My first plan for the day was to continue to Chiefs Head Peak, and then descend the probably very loose Chiefs Head/Spearhead Couloir, and then climb The Spearhead, one of the last two places I have to visit in Glacier Gorge.  But I wasn't able to get a clear view of the couloir from where I was during the day, and time was moving on.  It was now a bit after noon, and while the weather still looked good, I felt like I was taking a risk.  Thus I decided to descend into Glacier Gorge and stay high to ring around Frozen Lake and at least take a look at The Spearhead. 

At Frozen Lake.  One time when I was here, it was actually starting to freeze.
I looked to The Spearhead, and could see a party descending one of the non-technical routes to the top.  I felt maybe I should still go for it, but I was also playing a game with the weather.  Given the terrain and class 3-5 I would encounter on the route, I thought it might take me as long as an hour to get up and an hour to get down.  That would leave me exposed above treeline for quite awhile, as I still had to find the trail and get back down toward Black Lake.
A second thought was that even if there wasn't any lightning, any rain could certainly make the route much more difficult and treacherous.
I lounged in some sweet smelling grass and had a snack.  I really wanted to reach the top of The Spearhead, and I know some of the things that I write about on here will certainly seem risky or dangerous, but you never see the planning, training, and preparation that happens on the backside.
Thus, I relied on years of experience, years of looking at the sky seeing what happens in the future.  Years of observation and predicting what will happen in the next hour or two with the weather.  I was disappointed to head back to the trailhead, but I am not disappointed to have to make a return trip to Glacier Gorge. 

The Stone Man and the very difficult looking third class side of McHenrys.
In fact, I felt pretty upset.  I really want to finish up RMNP this year.  I am hoping to finish in early September when my parents will be visiting.  Though I only have ~50 things left to go, it seems unlikely that will happen.  Like I said earlier, I have a few things to visit that will take a whole day to get to for one or two destinations.  Case in point- this day!
I felt pretty down about this as I hiked back through Glacier Gorge.  But then I looked around and remembered where I was.

Longs, Keyboard of the Winds, and Pagoda Mountain.  Beauty, but notice the darkening skies behind.  Good decision made.
Why?  That's a question I ask myself sometimes.  Why do I do this?  There are alot of reasons, but I guess in the end most of those boil down to or add up to because it's fun and something that I really enjoy.  It's the way I recharge mentally.  It's a way I challenge myself physically and mentally to go farther and longer.  It's a way I see god (read more on my thoughts on god here).
And while I could drive to a closer trailhead to visit some of those singleton destinations, I've already planned what I think will be pretty fun and challenging days to do so.  In short, it's not about checking something off a stupid list, and I lost sight of that on this day.   

But this view, descending to Black Lake, certainly reminded me of the true why.  If I don't finish this year, it's not the end of the world.  Surely not, as I'll get to spend even more time in this place that I love so much.  Yes, I look forward to that last peak, and yes I would like my parents to be there.  But if that doesn't happen this year, it's ok.
On that note, as of this week I will now be working a four days on/three days off schedule.  I am relaxing today on one of my days off, and will have to do some errands on one of the other, but until the time they get here, I may be able to get two days a week out and about.  So maybe it will happen after all.  We shall see.
I started seeing some people at Black Lake, and passed maybe 20 on the way down.  I remember one couple in particular.  When I passed, the girl sarcastically (in my mind) remarked to the guy she was with that I looked like I was dressed to do a marathon.  By that time, I was getting close to mile 16, and had climbed 6 peaks and visited one alpine lake.  Not *quite* a marathon, but I'd also done over a mile of vertical gain, and climbed up to 5.3!   And I'm fully aware that the clothes I wear make me look like a total dork!
As Dan once said to me upon viewing my coincidentally completely tan ensemble, there are no dorks in the mountains. 

Here's the food I ate while hiking.  1780 calories, and close to five liters of water.  Plus a PB+J and chocolate soy milk on the way up, a head of romaine lettuce salad and three burritos for dinner, and ice cream for dessert when I got back home.
As I thought, this was a very fun and satisfying day.  It's always special to get to spend some quality time above treeline, do some fun and exposed scrambling, and visit those pristine lakes.  As for McHenrys Notch to McHenrys, I'd say it breaks down into a few sections.  Right out of the notch, you'll find some third to fourth class.  Then the first crux, a section of 5.3.  This comes to some wide ledges, which are third class, and then gets a bit more difficult again, with some fifth class moves to the top, where you find the wider third class talus ledges I took photos of above.  I've seen this called about 400 feet of climbing, but it's around 500 feet of total gain from the notch to the summit.  I'd suggest it's around 250 feet of actual climbing before you break out onto easier and flatter terrain.
As always, I'll give the disclaimer that this is dangerous, and not a good place to learn.  Just because you've done Longs doesn't mean that McHenrys via the notch is a good idea.  But if you have the experience and skill, this was certainly a fun climb!  I would be happy to repeat it in the future.
Link to hike map and GPX file on Caltopo.
McHenrys Notch via  Flattop Mountain (distances as part of the hike):
Flattop Mountain, 12324 feet: 4.6 miles, 2874 foot gain.  Second class.  Moderate+.
Hallett Peak, 12723 feet: 5.4 miles, 3263 foot gain.  Second class.  Moderate+.
Otis Peak, 12486 feet: 6.7 miles, 3036 foot gain.  Second class.  Moderate+.
Taylor Peak, 13153 feet: 8.5 miles, 3703 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Powell Peak, 13298 feet: 10.25 miles, 3753 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
McHenrys Notch, 12820 feet: 10.5 miles, 3370 foot gain.  Third class.  Strenuous.
McHenrys Peak, 13327 feet: 10.8 miles, 3877 foot gain.  5.3.  Strenuous+.
Stone Man Pass, 12500 feet: 11.2 miles, 3050 foot gain.  Third class.  Strenuous.
Frozen Lake, 11580 feet: 12.25 miles, 2130 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous-.
Black Lake, 10620 feet: 13.6 miles, 1170 foot gain.  Moderate+.
Jewel Lake, 9940 feet: 15.4 miles, 490 foot gain.  Moderate.
Mills Lake, 9940 feet: 16 miles, 490 foot gain.  Moderate.
As a whole, this day covered 18.3 miles with 6460 feet of elevation gain and a maximum technical difficult of 5.3.  Strenuous+.

In loving memory of Liberty Rebekah Dagenais.  October 9, 1980- July 22, 2010.