A better day in the mountains.

I have visited and revisited Mummy Mountain and Hagues Peak a number of times now.  These two have become a early season tradition of sorts, due to proximity to home, ease (or difficulty) of access, and at least one of the access options being pretty well traveled, with any snow well packed.  There might be a short stretch of snow around treeline, but the going is generally pretty clear and easy once you get to the enormous east slopes of Mummy, which don't hold much snow due to exposure.  It's also a good way to have a stretch above treeline and work hard.
Last year I had a heck of a time on these two, and not due to any difficulty.  I just was not in a good place mentally and very upset due to the very recent death of my dog.  It was a hard day all around.
This year I've generally been feeling good, and wanted to give it another go for the aforementioned reasons, as well as for perhaps some chance at a redemption of sorts.
Again, I planned to start and end at Lumpy Ridge, looking for a longer day and more elevation gain than last years route selection.  I was (not unusually) the first car in the parking lot at 530, and on the trail shortly after.  I resolved to run as much as possible this year, and to try to keep my mind and memories on a positive track.

It was easy at first, as I arrived just as the sun was starting to rise, and got to witness the alpenglow light show on the peaks to my south.
One of the major obstacles to any speed last year was the amount of dead fall on the Black Canyon Trail west of the intersection with the Dark Mountain Trail.  Fortunately, that was largely not an issue this year.  Maybe it wasn't as much of an issue as it felt like last year either, and it was all in my mind.

I was looking for it, and did manage to find the same exact rock out there on the trail.  I noticed its likeness to a heart shape last year, which lead to one of the many breakdowns as I thought about my pup who had died the day before.
As you near the apex of the trail, the terrain changes a bit, going from a heavily forested to a more open character.  You cross the Black Canyon Creek a few times, and I was able to fill up on water from it.

Close to breaking north to visit Mummy.
There is a pretty well put in social trail up here, which leads from the trail up to the east face of Mummy.  I've found it several times, but missed it this year and eventually went for it, deciding I was past it.  Thus, the initial gain was a bit more difficult, with some bushwhacking and maneuvering to avoid the little snow there was.
And how little snow there was; this year is the driest I've ever seen it around this time of the year.

Looking up at Fairchild Mountain and the Crystal Lake basin from the climb.

And up the east face of Mummy- no snow!  Not that the climb was any easier.

I finally reached the summit and looked across to Hagues.  Some years there's been enough snow that I haven't visited Hagues at all, this year...

Largely clear sailing.  I don't think I stepped in snow once, as it was all avoidable.  I was able to stop and refill water between the two from a melt pool, the good thing about doing these ridge traverses in the early part of the year. 

Hagues brought the usual good views, though I actually found a better approach by staying down and north of the ridge a bit.  The air was still, and I met the ravens who must live in the area at the summit.  It was pretty neat to actually be able to hear them flying, the air rushing around their wings and bodies. 

I was equally surprised to look north and see Rowe Glacier Lake and area were largely clear- or at least the snow could be avoidable.
I made a decision here, which was to not go back the way I came, but head east out to the Dunraven ridge, and then descend down the Husted Trail to North Boundary, and then take that south over the few lumps in the way.

Looking out to the Dunraven Ridge, some rock at first and then smooth sailing on tundra.

The dramatic east face of Gibraltar Mountain.
I found running water in this area and filled up yet again, as the next definite place I'd be able to fill up was at West Creek, and definitely a good bit away from where I was.  And as it was pretty warm, I'd need every drop.

The undramatic Mount Dunraven.

The last time I'd see water for awhile.
The excursion out to Mount Dickinson went without issue, and I saw several herds of elk along the way.  I briefly headed back west from the summit and then dropped south, following occasional cairns.

Due to the 2010 Cow Creek fire, there is a ton of dead fall along the way.  Up until now, I'd only done this in winter and it was alot easier with the snow covering everything.  Travel was pretty tedious until I reached the still living portion of the forest and got on a good trail.
At North Boundary, I turned south and was able to find water almost immediately.  Great, because I'd been out for at least half an hour already despite the fill up near Dunraven.  There was a RMNP trail crew out, and I made sure to thank them all for their hard work.
I jogged and actually ran some of the fun downhill to West Creek, crossed it, and started up the steepish climb on the other side.  It's only about 500 feet of gain, but it always feels worse, particularly this late on a big day.
I took the Cow Creek trail west, and realized I'd forgotten how long it takes to get to the Gem Lake trail, but it came soon enough.  And now for the final 1000 feet of vertical.  There are some steep parts here, but I was able to keep a high pace and power hike most of it.
I arrived at a peacefully deserted Gem Lake.  I expected to see a ton of people there, even though it was now around 530 at night. 

Low wind led to a nice reflection.

I passed several people heading up and a few on their way back down to the parking, jogging as much as I could.  I got back to the car at 5:51 pm, a 12:20 day.  It's always nice to change into some street clothes, and I've recently started taking along a thermos of ice to enjoy a cold coconut water on the way home.  

In last years outing, I compared my effort to previous efforts on these peaks.  It's not a direct comparison of course, as this years' effort included about 5 more miles and 1200 more feet of gain in much more bushwhacky and deadfally terrain from Dickinson than if I'd just visited Mummy and Hagues and went back the same way.  I was about 12 seconds per mile faster than I was last year; certainly not alot of time, but with the above difficulties added in, I'm happy with that.

Link to hike map/GPX on Caltopo.

A better day in the mountains:

Mummy Mountain, 13425 feet: 10.74 miles, 5560 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous+.

Hagues Peak, 13560 feet: 12.53 miles, 5695 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous+.

Mount Dunraven, 12571 feet: 14.88 miles, 4706 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.

"Dundicking", 12312 feet: 15.78 miles, 4447 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.

Mount Dickinson, 11831 feet: 17.57 miles, 3966 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.

As a whole, this day covered 30.02 miles with 8558 feet of elevation gain.  The main difficulty in my mind is the time spent above treeline.  Strenuous+.

In loving memory of Jersey the dog.

A bad day in the mountains.

I'd say it's been more than once that I've had the conversation with a friend.  "There are no bad days in the mountains," he'd say, and I agreed.  After all, this is the place I come to find peace and solace, to exercise my body and my mind, to recharge myself.  

There have been hard days in the mountains.  There have been times I've wanted to just give up and not go on, and eventually made my way back home with the help of several pep talks along the way.  There have been times I've gotten lost.  There have been times I bushwhacked through thick stuff for hours, and hated it.  But there have been no bad days.

That all changed when my alarm went off on June 8th at 430am.  Yes, I wanted to keep sleeping, but I often do.  It was the promise of adventure that got me up and going.  It was the thought that this day WOULD MAKE ME FEEL BETTER.

You see, when I woke up on June 8th at 430am, it had been less than 24 hours since I put my dog to sleep.  I had carefully planned my three days off this week.  Tuesday I would spend the whole day with him and do all the things he always loved.  Wednesday morning he would leave this world, and Wednesday afternoon I'd take the other dog for a hike.  Something to get us both out of the house and a way to have some fun together.  Thursday, I'd head to RMNP and do one of my favorite summer "warm ups", Mummy Mountain and Hagues Peak.  And, since I planned to do this as a training run, I'd start from Lumpy Ridge (also) for some more distance and elevation gain.  It seemed like a good idea on paper. 

I started right at 6, with just a few other cars in the parking lot.  I planned to run everything but the steepest uphills.  Which meant I should've been able to run quite a bit of it.

Sunlight on Lumpy Ridge.
The plan was going smoothly and I was moving well up until about a mile after the intersection of the Cow Creek and Black Canyon trails.  For it was here that I discovered the dead fall had not been cleared at all past the McGregor Campsite. 

Somewhere on the Black Canyon trail.
This was a psychological blow; my planned run now faced mountains of dead fall before I even hit another obstacle of snow on the trail.  It was hard to keep any pace.  Run for a few minutes, then stop, then find a way around, which was anything from an easy few steps to a short bushwhack ending with having to refind the the trail on the other side.
My mind was not up to the task at hand.  I'd already cried several times.  I felt emotionally exhausted.

I normally take photos of heart shaped rocks to email my wife at a later time, but when I saw this one, all I could think of was my pup, and I lost it.  I was crouched in the middle of the trail for several minutes crying as hard as I ever have.  I reached out and touched the rock as if it were him.  I wondered if that pain of memory would ever go away.  Writing several weeks later, the pain of memory has subsided.  At least I can now think of him without crying.

In a meadow nearing Mummy Mountain.
I could see the peak now, and to my surprise, there wasn't much snow, especially considering the late and heavy snowfall.  That at least was a tally mark on the things are going good side.
But I felt horrible.  Tired, slow and sluggish.  What was I doing out here anyway?  Whose good idea was this?  This was a horrible plan for a training run, why did I think this would work?  And now f@#$%^& snow to contend with?
But I kept going.  I found the thin social trail near the Black Canyon/Lawn Lake trail intersection and started up.  There definitely wouldn't be any running from here on.

On the expansive east face of Mummy.  A distinct lack of snow.
It felt like it took me forever to reach the summit.  But I did.

Looking out to Hagues from the summit of Mummy Mountain.
The register was visible, but still in the icy grip of winter, and I could not get it loose.  Did I want to go on to Hagues as planned?  Emphatically no.  In fact, I wanted to be just about anywhere but where I was.  I was not feeling better.  I was not happy.  But I had water, food, and weather.  My mind went one way and my feet went another.  Onward.

Hagues typically holds more snow, being slightly farther west.
The area between the two was pretty dry, holding lots of snow melt (aka water).  I wanted to make the trip out to Hagues and back as quickly as possible.  It's about 1.5 miles each way.  I had it in my mind that my fastest time ever was about two hours.  Now looking back, it looks like that trip took me about two hours one way, which seems unbelievably slow.  

It took me an hour to reach the summit of Hagues Peak, where I was able to sign the register as the third ascent of the year.
But I felt like I was moving slow, which added to my frustrations.  And then I looked back...

Now I had to go all the f@#$%^& way back!
I am not normally one to curse, but the expletives were flowing free this day.  I reversed my route, but stayed directly on top of the ridge as much as possible to maximize my time on rock.   

Near Hagues and some of the neat rock features east of it.  Not that I was enjoying them at all. 

I was able to refill water between the two peaks.
I stopped at the summit of Mummy again.  I checked the GPS app on my phone to see that my pace was now around 25 minutes a mile.  Definitely not fast enough to be considered a run.  Not fast enough to finish the race I signed up for before the cut off.  Maybe I should just not do the race.  All this training and I'm not fast enough.  These horrible thoughts continued to echo through my head as I descended Mummy.  

I took a picture of this rock formation when I started up, for nothing more than to have a visual reference on the way back.  It was only now that I noticed the resemblance to a dog lying down.  And, of course, I lost it again and cried for several minutes before continuing on.  
I finally made it back to the trail, and was able to follow my footsteps back.  One redeeming factor was that the snow was in good shape, almost always able to support full body weight without sinking in much at all.
I pretty much gave up on running.  I was moving so slow there was no point.  Or so I thought. 

The Needles from somewhere.
I felt like I was dragging.  I finally hit the Cow Creek/Black Canyon intersection again, and managed to (slowly) run some of the downhill.  I had lost all motivation.  I didn't feel better.  I just wanted to get home and watch a stupid movie.  

Even the normally awe inspiring sight of Lumpy Ridge didn't do it for me on this day.
I got back to the car and changed before starting the drive home.  I was miserable.  I felt worse than when I started.  Maybe this would be my last hike ever.  I'd try it once more to see if I felt better.  But this could be it.
I got home and ate and watched South Park.  In bed that night, my wife and I talked about our dog, and our fond memories of him.  I still cried before I feel asleep, but at least that made me feel a little better.
The work week helped to get me back on track.  I love my job and have some awesome coworkers, so that helps.
It's a few weeks later and I am starting to feel better.  I am happy to report my hiking days are not over, as I've been out a few times since this day, and felt that indefinable "it" again, whatever it was that I was not feeling.  That is great, because on this day I had serious doubts that I'd ever feel it again.
I've never really posted much in the way of times here.  I think hiking is dependent on alot of variables, so my time to do something may not give you any sort of reference as to what to expect for yourself. 
But I can compare myself to myself.  The last time I did these two peaks together was in spring of 2014, before I had a GPS device.  But my photos are time stamped, the first being taken at 541 am, about 4 miles in, and the last at 5pm with a mile left to go.  My hand drawn map on Caltopo said 15.4 miles with 6200 feet of elevation gain.  Though it didn't, let's say this only took me 11 hours and 21 minutes.
My last time up Mummy was from Lawn Lake Th in 2015.  I did Mummy by itself, and verified by GPS, started at 503am and finished at 208am.  9 hours to go 14 miles with just at 5000 feet of gain. 
According to my GPS, on this day I went 25.25 miles with 7336 feet of elevation gain in 10 hours and 14 minutes.  So, I'll say I was significantly faster than my last effort, as I did 11 more miles and 2300 more feet of up in only one more hour. 
Hiking and running are just as much mental as physical.  This isn't the only time I've felt slow to later discover that I was moving at quite a good pace.  It's just hard to focus on that out there sometimes. 
And I'll love that dog forever.
Link to hike map/GPX on Caltopo.
A bad day in the mountains:
Mummy Mountain, 13425 feet: 10.7 miles, 5573 foot gain.  Strenuous+.
Hagues Peak, 13570 feet: 12.5 miles, 5718 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous+.
As a whole, this day covered 25.25 miles with 7336 feet of elevation gain.  Strenuous+.

Finishing the high peaks of the Mummy Range.

September is here and nothing is on fire or flooding, so we will call that a small victory.  Once again, I find myself stuck inside this week as the monsoon stretches on- wasn't it supposed to be over by now?  It's been a very wet summer and I shouldn't complain.  I have to be okay with the idea that I might not reach my goal for RMNP this year.

Last week, I set out to finish off the high peaks of the Mummy Range with my friend Dan.  On the agenda were no fewer than 6 thirteeners, 2 twelvers, and the second or third highest named lake in the United States, depending on how you count...

We left the Lawn Lake trailhead shortly before 5am and spent some time in the dark.  With no moon, the night sky was awesome and awe inspiring, stars visible forever.  A small piece of beauty that stood before a very ambitious day.

We took the Lawn Lake trail to the intersection with the Black Canyon Trail, and then stayed on that for maybe .15 a mile.  We left it where it flattened out, and started up into the madness. 

Looking back from a point on the east ridge of Mummy Mountain.
Up was the theme of the day, and in about four hours, we were atop Mummy Mountain, 13425 feet. 

Having gained the first 5000 or so feet of the day, we set out along the ridge toward Hagues Peak.  You will loose some elevation and get back into the high 12000's before coming back up above 13000 feet.  Last time I was here, I saw an SAR helicopter land in the saddle between Mummy and Hagues.

We crossed the ridge and picked a contouring descent through mostly stable talus toward Rowe Lake.   Rowe Peak is the high point behind it. 

Rowe Lake is at 13100 feet, and according to this source, is the third highest named lake in the US.  However, the first highest lake listed is referred to as "subterranean", I can't find it on a topo, can't find a single photo of it online, and the only reference I can find is that site itself and others which reference it.
Anyway, I found it kind of funny to be sitting at a lake and knowing your next peak is at 13420 feet, and seeing there is only a few hundred feet of elevation gain needed to get to it.  Normally that is quite different.  It is higher than all but 25 or so peaks in the park.
We picked a path up the talus between Rowe Peak and Gibraltar Mountain, and then set out west.

In very short time, we were standing on the second thirteener of the day!  For being unranked and close to nothing, it sure does get alot of visitation.  Probably 30-50 summits a year. 

Next up was Rowe Mountain.  From Rowe Peak, one can see a high point that is pretty close, but this is not Rowe Mountain.  It is the small lump of rock that is maybe half a mile NNE that is your next goal (seen slightly right of center here).  It has a whopping 44 feet of prominence!

From here, we could also see our first big elevation loss of the day, down to the 12530 foot summit of Little No Name.  There were two registers on top of Rowe Mountain.  An old plastic peanut butter container that had been compromised and a newer CMC PVC pipe one that we could not get open.  Ah well. 

We set off across scree and tundra, arcing downwards.  The tundra is pretty beautiful this year due to the rain.  While starting to turn to fall colors, you can find these reds and ochers right next to vibrant jewel green.  Pretty awesome. 

We approached Little No Name.  Like many of the peaks on high plateaus, this side looks rather unspectacular.  As in, why would anyone even name this thing?  But from below, it looks like a beautiful peak.

And of course it offered up some incredible views to the east.  It was alot of fun thinking about the time we spent in this drainage.

Lake Dunraven, Mount Dunraven, Dundicking, Mount Dickinson.

Scotch Lake and Mummy Mountain.

Next we found ourselves on top of the 12760 foot Middle No Name.  The ridge line to the left here holds Sugarloaf Mountain and Stormy Peaks.

Gibraltar Mountain actually looks somewhat imposing from Middle No Name.

This day would've been perfect if not for the wind.  It was pretty fierce at times.  We briefly stood on top of Gibraltar Mountain (13300) before heading back down towards Rowe Lake.

The ridge line between Hagues and Rowe Peak looks fun and formidable.  It was again pretty neat to take a break at this high lake.  We picked a logical way up the scree and talus slope to Hagues Peak.  There is a little bit of a social trail that can be found, though it is hard to see from below. 

Rowe Lake is so high I doubt it even melts out completely most years.  We had alot of snow over the winter, so it comes as no surprise that is is still about half ice.
Hagues Peak (13560) is the fourth highest ranked peak in the park.  This marks my second visit of the year.

Looking down a gully to Fairchild Mountain.
We had some troubles at first getting down Hagues Peak to The Saddle.  I thought I remembered it being third class, and 13ers.com has this route as fourth class, while Fosters book gives it second.  It got too hard quick, so we back tracked.  I'd say the easiest way is to head from the summit back towards Mummy Mountain for a very short distance- maybe 100 feet or so.  Then look south.  You should see a relatively sane looking talus decline that stays on or slightly east of the actual ridge line.  We started a little farther in from this and I'd say there was a few sections of third class, but most of the descent down is second.  I think this is another case of "by the path of least resistance" because it could be up to fourth class if you wanted it to be.  Pick the route that you like, but stay on the east side of the ridge.

Look for some great views west.
Over the day we'd talked about the possibility of adding on Fairchild Mountain.  I felt pretty good as we headed up to Hagues from Rowe Lake so I said I was game.  Dan agreed.

On the way to The Saddle, Fairchild Mountain.  This would add another 1100 feet of elevation gain to the days total. 

Looking back at Hagues Peak.
I felt great going up Hagues, but things fell apart here.  I was dragging, felt slight nausea, headache, had to stop somewhat frequently to rest.  This after being fine all day.  But I guess a day at altitude was catching up to me.  I probably would have turned back if not for Dan leading the way.  I should've turned back. 

We made the summit (13502) and realized that this was the last high peak in the Mummies for both of us.  "I wish I could feel more happy about that," I said.  I knew I had to eat and tried but immediately felt it welling up.  It was time to get down, and quick. 

The Four Aces of Blitzen Ridge, Donner Ridge, Chiquita Mountains east ridge. 

Back to Hagues and Mummy.  Six thirteeners in one day.  Not bad.  But there was still about nine miles to go back to the car. 

I felt leaps and bounds better as we lost elevation, and by the time we intersected the trail in the 12000's I felt whole again, and was now able to express some joy over the day.

Mummy Mountain above Lawn Lake.  Beauteous, wonderful.  A good place to start feeling human again.

The sun over Fairchild and Crystal Lakes.  It was much easier going when there wasn't waist deep snow to contend with.
We set a pretty high pace on the way down, and stopped only one time for a break to pump some water and eat.  We got back to the car shortly after seven.  A fourteen hour plus day.  No wonder I felt tired!
The drive back down was uneventful- fortunately we left early enough to miss the construction on the way up and were out long enough to miss it on the way back as well, and we got stuck in very little Elk related traffic in and around RMNP.  At home I stayed up too late and woke up too early the next day.  My legs certainly felt it for a few days afterward!
Dan and I talked on the way down.  Of interest was that we saw several people had signed registers as "Mummy Kill", a hike which hits all of the peaks we did plus Chapin, Chiquita, and Ypsilon and less Little No Name, Middle No Name, Gibraltar, and possibly the Rowes.  The normal starting point is Chapin Pass, yet with Old Fall River Road closed, we wondered if people were starting from the Alpine Visitor Center and hiking down the road to the trail head.  The normal finishing point is Lawn Lake trail head, where a second car is left or a ride is hitched up. 
I know we'd talked about doing this hike in the past.  The distance of it looks to be around 18 miles with 5100ish feet of gain.  But after this day....
In the end we estimated around 24ish miles with 8400ish feet of elevation gain.  A little bit harder than the standard Mummy Kill route.  This day set a personal duration record (14+ hours), a elevation gain record (almost 2000 feet more than my previous best), and is very much in contention for longest distance, tying our journey into the North Fork Basin last summer.  In short, it makes for a very difficult but rewarding day.  At least once you get back to 12000 feet and appreciate it!
The high peaks of the Mummy Range (distances via Caltopo as a part of this hike, not individually from the th):
Mummy Mountain, 13425 feet: 7 miles one way, 4885 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Rowe Lake/Rowe Glacier Lake, 13100 feet: 8.4 miles one way, 4660 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Rowe Peak, 13420 feet: 8.8 miles one way, 4880 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Rowe Mountain, 13184 feet: 9.3 miles one way, 4644 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Little No Name, 12530 feet: 10.5 miles one way, 3990 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Middle No Name, 12760 feet: 11 miles one way, 4220 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Gibraltar Mountain, 13300 feet: 11.75 miles one way, 4760 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Hagues Peak, 13560 feet: 12.6 miles one way, 5020 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
The Saddle, 12398 feet: 13.3 miles one way, 3858 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
Fairchild Mountain, 13502 feet: 14.25 miles one way, 4962 foot gain.  Second class.  Strenuous.
As a whole, expect to cover 24ish miles with 8400+ feet of gross elevation gain.  Third class between Hagues and The Saddle.  Strenuous+.