8/3/97
-Longs Peak via the Keyhole Route, Rocky Mountain
National Park, Colorado
 Class 1, 2, & 3
Hiking/Climbing, elevation on Longs Peak, 14,256',
Elevation gain: ~4,850'; ~16 miles RT.
Hikers:
I've done it. I looked at the mountain, read the
reports, studied the maps and books, and trained mentally
and physically for it, and now I've done it. This report
might sound a little breathless and overly dramatic, but
this was an important and thrilling hike for me. My first
fourteener. Hardest hike. Most elevation gain. This is
not a hike to sneer at or take for granted. Maybe I won't
be so awestruck next time. In the meantime, read on.
I knew I'd do Longs Peak sometime in late July or
August '97, but I wasn't sure when. But, Terry Brands
(yes, this is the NCAA and World Champion amateur
wrestler; he's my wife's nephew) called me and said he
wanted to come up on a day off from his training at the
Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs and do Longs
Peak.
I was surprised he'd want to do something so punishing
on a day off from a tough training schedule (he was
training for the Worlds in Russia in late August), and at
first I tried to discourage him, but he wouldn't take no
for an answer. Terry also told me he was bringing along
Mike Duroe, a coach on the OTC staff, and that Mike was
physically ready and mentally chomping at the bit to do
Longs. I wasn't sure they really understood what they
were getting into, but I knew if I could do it, they
could.
We heeded all the best advice on what time to start --
we planned to hit the trail at 0300. This would give us
plenty of time to reach the summit and get off of it
before the common afternoon thunderstorms blew in.
Terry and Mike D. arrived the night before. We did
some planning, got our gear together and hit the sack at
about 2230. I didn't expect to sleep much, knowing I
would get less than four hours of sleep, but I managed to
sleep pretty well until the alarm went off a bit before
0200.
After making sure everyone was up, I made some coffee
and ate a light breakfast of a delicious
egg, bacon, cheese, and potato burrito and some orange
juice and coffee. We would also carry the burritos as
food on the hike, in addition to our normal snacks
(fruit, Clif Bars, etc.).
We left the house at a bit after 0230 and drove
through the deserted streets of Estes Park out to Highway
7 and before long we turned off onto to the road to the
Longs Peak Area Ranger Station and trailhead. As we got
to the top of the hill, I was alarmed to see a lot of
cars parked off the side of the road, usually an
indicator of overflow from the parking lot, which fills
up very early in the summer. To our surprise, the lot was
only about 2/3 full (I thought it would be full; Terry
and Mike couldn't believe there were already that many
people there) and it was easy to park in a decent spot.
The parking lot was a veritable beehive of activity, with
people arriving, gathering their gear, adjusting their
lights, talking, and hitting the trail.
We got our gear together, rigged our headlamps and
flashlights and started up the trail at almost exactly
0300. In the first half mile or so, we struggled to get
our breathing rhythm, partly because of the exertion in
the first stretch and partly because I think we were all
excited by finally being on the trail to Longs Peak. We
stopped briefly a few times to adjust equipment and
clothing layers; we were making very good time. Actually,
too good of time for me. I asked the two athlete/jocks to
slow down a bit since we still had a long day ahead of
us.
It turns out that Mike D. and Terry probably wouldn't
stop very much if I weren't there, partly because that's
their rhythm and partly because they got chilled when we
stopped. A few times when we stopped and turned our
lights out, we could see the incredible array of stars
and the occasional shooting star. It was also pretty cool
to look up and down the trail and see a string of bobbing
lights of other hikers. There were obviously dozens of
other hikers within half a mile of us. Sometimes, we
would walk right up on someone sitting beside the trail
with their lights out and it was somewhat startling not
to see or hear them until you were 6 feet away.
Every so often, we'd look to the east and see the
early morning light gradually coming on. Beautiful,
gentle pastel colors! Before we knew it, we were at the
Alpine Brook bridge and moments later, above treeline.
Amazingly, we reached Chasm Lake trail junction in only
about an hour and half (the fastest I've ever made it up
this stretch)! I told the other two guys to slow it down
a bit. We hiked on, heading for the Boulderfield.
But before that, we had to stop to watch the sunrise.
The sun came up slowly in a large reddish orange bubble
and after we'd snapped a few pictures, we moved on. Soon,
we were able to turn off the headlamps and flashlights
that had served us so well.
Before I was quite expecting it, we'd reached the edge
of the Boulderfield and its campground, which was still
in the shade. I'd asked Terry and Mike D. if we could
stop for a 15 or 20 minute rest here so I could eat a
snack. Those two were hiking me into the ground. After we
stopped, Terry was getting too cold in the shade and
since he could see the sun shining on the boulders a
little higher up toward the Keyhole, he headed up and
said he'd meet us.
After a few minutes, Mike D. and I started up the
Boulderfield toward the Keyhole. It was a beautiful trek
hopping up the hill on the boulders in the alpenglow. I
was using both my trekking poles and found that I never
had to use my hands and could stand pretty much upright.
It's like having four wheel drive!
Soon we reached Terry, now enjoying a stop in the sun.
We noted the time at about 0635, and though I wasn't sure
how long it would take to reach the Keyhole, Terry was
sure it would be only 30 minutes or so. We started on up,
each of us picking our own personal path up the hill.
Sure enough, we all reached the top of the Keyhole at
about 0710. We all looked over the other side and
literally gasped at the breathtaking beauty of the drop
off and mountains on the other side! Wow!
We paused for a bit at the Keyhole, taking in the
jaw-dropping views. Stuck our heads in the Agnes Vaille
Memorial hut just long enough to sense it wasn't a very
warm and hospitable place to spend time (cold and damp).
The Keyhole marks a very stark division in the hike to
Longs Peak. Immediately after going beyond the Keyhole,
the hike becomes serious. Serious views. Serious
exposure. Serious elevation gain. It makes you work and
it wants you to pay attention.
We did the ups and downs of the Ledges, following the
trail marked only by the line of people and the red and
yellow targets painted on the rocks. There's nothing
particularly difficult about any 50 yard stretch of this
hike, but when you add up all those 50 yard stretches,
you realize you've done some serious work. Pay attention
to the targets or you may find yourself in an awkward or
even dangerous position.
Soon the Ledges give way to the Trough. Oh, man. The
Trough is murder. Terry called it the Stairway to Heaven,
a name he got from a similar stretch of a hike he's done
in Alaska (only with snow on it). His name doesn't quite
do it justice. Maybe Stairway from Hell.
Anyway, we all focused on climbing this stretch at our
own pace and soon we were well scattered along the trail,
eventually not even in sight of one another. I brought up
the rear. Even if we'd hiked together, the Trough doesn't
leave much breath to do much more than mutter an
occasional "Wow." Conversation seems out of the
question.
Just as the Keyhole is an abrupt transition, so are
the transitions on the way to the summit. Going up the
Trough, which starts out pretty wide, with people spread
out all over it, you pick your way up through the loose
rocks, noting the targets, but having the terrain pretty
much dominate you all the way up. The higher you climb,
the narrower the trail gets, until finally you're
funneled up to a large boulder which requires a fair
amount of effort to negotiate up and over. And when you
do, there's another "wow" transition as you
come up to see the beginning of the Narrows.
My first thought was, "Those people ahead must be
off the trail, and what they're doing looks kind of
dangerous." It turns out that this is just the way
you have to go. I'd been told about the Narrows and the
sheer drop offs, but I'm not sure I was prepared for it.
I went on down the trail, wondering what Terry and Mike
thought when they got to this. Well, I didn't see
‘em come back, so they must have had no problem with
it.
I started on to the trail, such as it was, and again
found that each 50 yard stretch wasn't that bad, in and
of itself. And when you add them all up, you're making
progress without any big problem. One thing that made it
easier is that since we'd started so early, there was
almost no one coming down this stretch. Almost like a one
way street. That was good though -- they don't call it
the Narrows for nothing.
Again, there's a major transition. You come around the
last corner of the Narrows, look up at the Homestretch,
and think, "After what we just did in the Trough and
on the Narrows, this doesn't seem fair. Who designed this
trail system, anyway!?" <grin>
In the Trough, which was well above 13,000 feet, you
have to stop constantly to rest and breath. The Narrows
weren't that bad in terms of elevation gain. But the
Homestretch was one of those steep sections, at nearly
14,000 feet where you take a couple or three good steps
up, then you rest and breathe. After a minute, you take
another few steps, then stop and breathe again. I felt
kind of wimpy, but then I noticed that everyone was doing
it. It's just the nature of the beast.
About a fourth of the way up, I looked up to the top
of the Homestretch (which at the time I desperately hoped
was the Summit) and saw Terry standing up there. He just
stood, watching and seemed contemplative. Yeah, he's up
there, and I will be soon. I took off from my 5th rest
stop and took a few more steps, betting myself I could do
the rest of the Homestretch without stopping again. After
4 or 5 more steps, I decided to stop and think about
that. I continued to take a few steps, think, then take a
few more. Before long, I was at the top of the
Homestretch and I must have looked decidedly stupid as my
mouth gaped open at the size of the boulder-strewn
summit. It looked even bigger than football-field size to
me. I looked over to the left of where I came up and saw
Terry and Mike crashed comfortably on some flat boulders.
I'd made it. It was about 0915. Over 6 hours of hiking
for 8+ miles. Not bad, considering I was now 4800+ feet
higher! Oh yeah. This is good stuff.
I went over, dumped my gear on a rock, gave Terry a
high-five, but felt a war whoop would be both undignified
and a waste of precious 14,256 foot oxygen. I sat down,
drank some water and talked with Terry and Mike.
Mike had reached the summit almost 30 minutes ahead of
me, and Terry had beat me by almost an hour. It turns out
that Mike was suffering pretty badly from altitude
sickness. Bad headache, nausea. All he wanted to do was
lay down on the rock and not move. I gave him my
RidgeRest pad so he'd be more comfortable. Terry felt
fine, but was tired, probably more from lack of sleep
than anything else. He laid back down to take a snooze
while I ate a snack.
After awhile, it occurred to me that maybe we should
explore the summit, sign the register, and take some
pictures. There were a few clouds in the west, nothing
ominous yet, but I knew that noon-time storms were
common. I went over and roused Mike and Terry. When Terry
woke up, he jumped up, tore of his hat, sunglasses, tore
off his wool socks, and ripped off his outer layer shirt.
I thought he was going to take everything off. Turns out
he got overheated during his nap and felt almost panicky
as he woke up. He says he doesn't remember it.
Mike said he felt better, so we started over to look
over the east edge of the summit. Took some pictures.
Ooohed and aaahed. Climbed up on the highest point on the summit and
made appropriately manly conquering poses. Signed the register. It
looked like perhaps 150 or so had been up in two days, and I'd guess
there were 75 or so people on the summit with us. Fortunately, the
summit's a large place and it's easy to feel alone, even though there's
a crowd there.
I think I most enjoyed going over to the
north-north-west edge of the summit and looking off
toward Glacier Gorge and Bear Lake. We could easily see
Bear Lake and the Bear Lake Parking Lot. At just the
right spot, you can look down on the Trough and see the
other barely visible ant-like hikers laboriously working
their way up. It didn't seem possible we came up that way
-- or would go back that way. It was such a long way
down.
Just the exertion of walking around on the flat summit
made you breathe hard, and it pretty much brought back
all the altitude sickness symptoms Mike was suffering
before his rest. In fact, he was pretty miserable.
Fortunately, he was in very good condition (he's done
some marathons and talks about doing a triathalon) and
though he felt awful, he pushed himself through the wall
put up by the altitude and he didn't whine about it. I
was impressed and I think Terry was too. The hike was
hard enough without having a headache and nausea.
And he wasn't the only one. Not long after I
summitted, I noticed a couple drag themselves over the
top of the Homestretch, whereupon the woman promptly
dragged herself over to the nearest rock and began
throwing up with great enthusiasm. I think a high-five
would've been more appropriate, but I suppose I'm being
overly smug because I escaped any feelings of altitude
sickness. Well, OK, I did feel a little queasy two times
on the Homestretch, but fortunately it passed within a
minute or two.
Anyway, I looked west again and saw that the clouds
were becoming more threatening looking, though we still
didn't see any lightning or hear any thunder. The crowd
on the summit was thinning somewhat, and we decided to
head down, too.
As soon as we started down the Homestretch, we
realized we would be meeting a lot of folks coming up.
The Homestretch turned into a two-way street. It was so
steep, you often went down crab-like, butt down to help
keep you under control. Well, we wouldn't get any points
for form, but then we were all doing it.
At the bottom of the Homestretch, a guy looked up and
asked, "is that it?" I replied, "Yeah, you
only have about 10 rest stops to go." He smiled,
somewhat grimly though.
The Narrows looked pretty crowded and we often had to
wait for people to get by before we could proceed. Still
uneventful, though, and we made good time going down.
Terry took off on his own speed, and after he turned onto
the Narrows, we didn't see him again until the Keyhole.
It was interesting though. Near the end of the
Narrows, Mike went around a corner and met a woman coming
up. It was too narrow for both get by, so she stepped up
on a rock, leaned up and put her arms on the wall above
us and made a bridge for Mike to go under. She was pretty
trusting. I wouldn't have done that.
Mike was really dragging, though I didn't mind the
slow pace. We began the laborious section at the Trough.
Again, it was quite crowded, with almost a stream of
people coming up and going down. We could see the clouds
that appeared to be hanging over and dropping rain on the
area about where Loch Vale would be.
It was then that we heard the first thunder of the
day, and it totally changed the character of the hike. Up
until this point, people were hiking up and down somewhat
leisurely, but purposefully. There were friendly
greetings and banter.
Suddenly, the thunder brought out a sense of urgency,
and people going down began moving more quickly. People
going up stopped, looked around and debated whether they
should go on. I saw three college age girls well down the
Trough who stopped as soon as they heard the thunder,
looked up, and as a group, turned and started down. They
didn't even talk about it.
I maintained my sense of humor. As soon as the sound
of thunder died away, I said aloud, "Well, it looks
like the mountain gods require a human sacrifice."
Almost instantly, a guy about 20 feet behind me said,
"I'm not worthy!" I laughed and thought about
what a great time I was having, enough if we were going
to get rained on in a while.
It turned out that the storm stayed pretty much to the
north of us, and though there was thunder, it was in the
distance. We continued down out of the Trough, though at
a perceptibly faster pace. It also turned out that Mike
was really miserable. His head was splitting, and he
didn't know whether he wanted to vomit, have diarrhea, or
both. He even experienced some dizziness. Not a good
thing to have between the Trough and the Keyhole. We
stopped several times for him to gather the will to move
on.
There's one stretch on the Ledges where you have to go
way up then back down and Mike was having trouble;
feeling weak and generally wishing he weren't hiking on
the side of a mountain. We went slowly and carefully, and
soon we reached the Keyhole, where Terry was about to
start back to look for us. He was worried that something
had happened, as he'd been waiting almost an hour.
As soon as we got under the arch of the Keyhole, poor
Mike laid down, put his head down between two rocks, and
seemed to throw up everything he'd eaten or drank the
whole day. I felt bad for him, but knew there was nothing
to do except get him down the mountain. After a bit, we
started down the Boulderfield.
The stark transition of the Keyhole was still there.
Though we'd come only a couple of miles down from the
summit, it almost seemed like we were halfway home. The
last 5 or 6 miles would seem like ten.
We'd run out of water coming down to the Keyhole, so
we were ready to find a small stream to filter some
water. I especially wanted Mike to drink some since he
had to be pretty dehydrated now. I'd drunk about 1.5
liters of water and a liter of Gatorade.
Terry and Mike rested at the Boulderfield camping area
and I walked on down the trail to find some open water (I
could hear it under the boulders). I pumped some water
and refilled our bottles and we headed on down the
relatively flat lower Boulderfield.
Man, that's a long stretch between the Boulderfield
and the Chasm Lake junction. It seemed to take forever.
Nothing particularly difficult, just a lot of hiking. The
rain sprinkled out of the clouds, so raingear came out of
our packs. It didn't rain much on us, but there was very
heavy rain to the north and east of us.
I think we were all starting to want the hike to be
over, and it didn't help things when we got to the Chasm
junction and realized we still had over 3 miles to go.
Long miles. And Mike wasn't feeling any better. Sometimes
he'd walk ahead of us. When we caught up, he'd be sitting
on a rock, with his head in his hands, muttering that
maybe he could spend the night right there by the trail.
He didn't lose his sense of humor though, didn't whine,
and certainly carried his weight on the hike.
One foot in front of the other. Down to 2.5 miles to
go. Terry said the signs had to be wrong. We had to be
going faster than that. At the next break, I took some
Ibuprofen, as my right knee was hurting. Terry laughed
when I called it Vitamin I. He said he didn't need any of
it because he took Vitamin G. When I asked what that was,
he replied, "GUTS!" I laughed. He'd definitely
one of those guys who can gut anything out. (He came out
and ran the Bolder Boulder with me in '91 -- no training,
no acclimatization, and he finished minutes faster than I
did, and I'd been training for two months!) Oh, to be
young, fit and have a high tolerance for pain!
<grin> I guess that's why he's a world-class
athlete.
We took another break and I told Terry and Mike to
turn around. There was Meeker, Longs, and Lady
Washington. I said, "We were just up there." It
was hard to believe. Harder for them, since we'd hiked
past this spot in the dark and they only saw this
perspective on their destination on the way out.
We trudged down the trail, celebrating when we got
below treeline. It was starting to feel like we were
almost back to the car. It was a good thing we didn't
meet a Park Ranger -- I think Terry would have strangled
him because he was so sure the mileage on the signs was
off. <grin>
Finally, at about 1615 we reached the parking lot and
oh, did it feel good to be finished. We walked leadenly
over to the car, dumped our gear in the trunk and we
high-fived again. Mike D asked a guy in the lot to take
our picture. Someone from Omaha recognized Terry and they
talked for a moment.
We headed out. On Highway 7, we stopped almost opposite the Twin
Sisters trailhead turnoff to take one more picture of the mountain we'd
just conquered. Drove into Estes and stopped at East Side Food Store.
Mike got some 7Up and ginger ale for his stomach, and I got a bag of
peanut M&Ms.
Thirty minutes after we got home, Terry and I had
showers and were scarfing down enormous plates of
fantastic homemade spaghetti. It never tasted so
good. After Mike drank some 7up and ate some crackers, he
crashed on the floor in the living room and took a short
nap. When he woke, he seemed to feel a little better, but
still had a headache. After dinner, we all came down to
my computer to look at the pictures taken with the
digital camera. Few of them were able to really capture
what we'd done that day, but they were better than
nothing.
After another half hour, Terry and Mike had to leave
to drive back to Colorado Springs. That would be a long
drive. I went to bed early and after reading only a page
or two of a novel, I was out like a light. It had been a
very Longs day.
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Sunrise on the trail.
 The
view of Longs from the Boulderfield.
Looking toward the Keyhole.
The Keyhole. Notice the Agnes Vaille Memorial hut to the
lower left. Here's a larger
version of this photo.
Leaving the Keyhole and starting the section called the
Ledges.
Looking back down the Trough. Glacier Gorge is at left.
You can see Mills and Jewel Lakes on the edge of the
bright sunlight.
Looking back on the Narrows.
Looking up the Homestretch. At center is a bump which is
a summit cairn. You can make out a person standing right
by it, and someone else to the left standing at the very
top of the Homestretch. Here's a larger image.
Terry and Mike D. crash on the summit. Mike D. is under
the pile of stuff at right.
Mike M. (me) on the summit. Looking north. On the distant
horizon you could see the Snowy Range in Wyoming.
Looking north. The summit is very flat and large.
Looking southwest todard Indian Peaks. To the left of the
guy in the yellow shorts is the cairn at the top of the
Homestretch.
Mike and Terry on the summit.
Altitude sickness poster boy Mike D.
Terry and Mike M. with Longs Peak in the background. Kind
of hard to believe we walked around Lady Washington
(right) and ascended from the backside of Longs.
Oh, yeah. Mike M., Terry, and Mike D. back at the car.
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