Dreamer
off route
- Joined
- Jun 14, 2016
- Messages
- 315
Cloud Peak Wilderness August 12-15, 2009
I was looking for somewhere new to backpack after a solo mountaineering trip in the Winds and a relaxing visit to the Thermopolis hot springs. Back in 2001 I bought a nice 1969 Ford E150 (one of those van/pickups) in Helena, MT to drive back to Maine. For whatever reason I choose a route through Teton Pass where the trouble started. Turns out the trucks motor skipped terribly on big climbs. Barely made it over. Nobody to work on it in Jackson so I just kept going after getting some useless new plug wires. Made it to the Bighorns but could not get over that last pass until the Appalachians. Spent a week in Gillette waiting for a useless part and then limped the rest of the way home. In 2009 I remembered that long wait for a tow on the roadside and decided to go hike there, being so nearby. I knew nothing about the range. Bought me a map and took a look. As is my preference, I outlined a rough route idea and choose what appeared to be an out of the way trailhead on the west side to the north of the likely popular area. The trailhead area was pretty ugly. It being overrun with dozens of longterm RVers with lots of both ATVs and horses. I packed at the parking area, bringing 6 days of supplies, and set off around 5:30p. My plan was to hike as far as I got that evening. The trail was very difficult to follow in spots due to the multitude of intersecting horse use trails. I had to employ lots of trail sleuthing.
the trailhead
plenty of lovely open areas
I camped the first night in the thick trees near a beautiful lake away from the frequented sites. This spot did still show lots of horse use. My plan was to head over by Cloud Peak and see about going up.
perfect morning reflection
my favorite kind of sign
I came from off to the right
On my second night I stayed in the open just below the start of the scramble. The route up looked clear cut, lots of rubble but not steep. It was a perfect day, I hiked in shorts and t-shirt. On the way down, near the bottom, I meet the first people since the trailhead. To me, it seemed late to start the accent.
this pretty much represents the whole climb
my take on the classic summit pic
West face of Cloud Peak
the summit from near camp
I was tired and just relaxed near camp. At the time, and for the previous decade, I used a hooped WPB bivy sack as my only shelter. I really loved the feeling of being outside all the time. In the sack at night I would leave the hatch open for full view unless wet weather came. During storms I could totally feel the rain and wind lashing. A nice sunset transitioned into a strong thunderstorm at dark.
sunset
sunset
I awoke early to an odd sound and as I peeked out I was shocked to see wet snow falling heavy with about 4" on the ground. As my awareness grew I realized something very bad had happened. My lower half was all wet. Now, living in a bivy, one needs to expect some condensation, but that night was over the top. My UL 30deg down bag was sopping wet, ready to wring. I found a puddle inside the end of the bivy like 2' around and an inch deep. The bag was done. I was in trouble. Above tree line. 13 miles from the trailhead in a near whiteout. Ok, maintain composure. What are the options, 1: stay put - no way, no dry shelter, not possible to stay warm or dry out anything. 2: retreat lower - not good, likely very tough to start a fire and a long miserable cold wet day and night. 3: exit - not good, long unknown route on secondary trails in terrible visibility with enough snow to obscure the tread.
now what? August 15, 2009 6:30a
I packed my gear. Was really, really happy that I had, not long before, traded in my 5" x 8" silnylon poncho for a WPB suit, so I was able to keep my core dry. Only had some fleece gloves and mesh sneakers though. I made my way carefully to Misty Moon Lake where there were many tents. The folks that I had meet the previous afternoon were there and welcomed me into their small tent. The dry rest was so welcome but I felt that I could not stay and did not even ask. I headed out on the back way to my truck. Every so often there was a tall stick marking the open route. I could not see the tread at all. I would head past one pole and hope to spot the next before I lost the previous. As I lost altitude, the precipitation transitioned to sleet and then steady rain. The tread started to appear and fill with slushy water. My feet were soaked and cold even under motion. Had to wade multiple creeks. My hands were so cold and wet that they started to fail. After some anxious confusion with the horse side trails, I finally made my truck. My hands were so cold that I had to grip the key between my palms to open the door. Heat! It was over half an hour before I was able to unzip my jacket. Whoa, close one. That was the end of the bivy for me.
I was looking for somewhere new to backpack after a solo mountaineering trip in the Winds and a relaxing visit to the Thermopolis hot springs. Back in 2001 I bought a nice 1969 Ford E150 (one of those van/pickups) in Helena, MT to drive back to Maine. For whatever reason I choose a route through Teton Pass where the trouble started. Turns out the trucks motor skipped terribly on big climbs. Barely made it over. Nobody to work on it in Jackson so I just kept going after getting some useless new plug wires. Made it to the Bighorns but could not get over that last pass until the Appalachians. Spent a week in Gillette waiting for a useless part and then limped the rest of the way home. In 2009 I remembered that long wait for a tow on the roadside and decided to go hike there, being so nearby. I knew nothing about the range. Bought me a map and took a look. As is my preference, I outlined a rough route idea and choose what appeared to be an out of the way trailhead on the west side to the north of the likely popular area. The trailhead area was pretty ugly. It being overrun with dozens of longterm RVers with lots of both ATVs and horses. I packed at the parking area, bringing 6 days of supplies, and set off around 5:30p. My plan was to hike as far as I got that evening. The trail was very difficult to follow in spots due to the multitude of intersecting horse use trails. I had to employ lots of trail sleuthing.
the trailhead
plenty of lovely open areas
I camped the first night in the thick trees near a beautiful lake away from the frequented sites. This spot did still show lots of horse use. My plan was to head over by Cloud Peak and see about going up.
perfect morning reflection
my favorite kind of sign
I came from off to the right
On my second night I stayed in the open just below the start of the scramble. The route up looked clear cut, lots of rubble but not steep. It was a perfect day, I hiked in shorts and t-shirt. On the way down, near the bottom, I meet the first people since the trailhead. To me, it seemed late to start the accent.
this pretty much represents the whole climb
my take on the classic summit pic
West face of Cloud Peak
the summit from near camp
I was tired and just relaxed near camp. At the time, and for the previous decade, I used a hooped WPB bivy sack as my only shelter. I really loved the feeling of being outside all the time. In the sack at night I would leave the hatch open for full view unless wet weather came. During storms I could totally feel the rain and wind lashing. A nice sunset transitioned into a strong thunderstorm at dark.
sunset
sunset
I awoke early to an odd sound and as I peeked out I was shocked to see wet snow falling heavy with about 4" on the ground. As my awareness grew I realized something very bad had happened. My lower half was all wet. Now, living in a bivy, one needs to expect some condensation, but that night was over the top. My UL 30deg down bag was sopping wet, ready to wring. I found a puddle inside the end of the bivy like 2' around and an inch deep. The bag was done. I was in trouble. Above tree line. 13 miles from the trailhead in a near whiteout. Ok, maintain composure. What are the options, 1: stay put - no way, no dry shelter, not possible to stay warm or dry out anything. 2: retreat lower - not good, likely very tough to start a fire and a long miserable cold wet day and night. 3: exit - not good, long unknown route on secondary trails in terrible visibility with enough snow to obscure the tread.
now what? August 15, 2009 6:30a
I packed my gear. Was really, really happy that I had, not long before, traded in my 5" x 8" silnylon poncho for a WPB suit, so I was able to keep my core dry. Only had some fleece gloves and mesh sneakers though. I made my way carefully to Misty Moon Lake where there were many tents. The folks that I had meet the previous afternoon were there and welcomed me into their small tent. The dry rest was so welcome but I felt that I could not stay and did not even ask. I headed out on the back way to my truck. Every so often there was a tall stick marking the open route. I could not see the tread at all. I would head past one pole and hope to spot the next before I lost the previous. As I lost altitude, the precipitation transitioned to sleet and then steady rain. The tread started to appear and fill with slushy water. My feet were soaked and cold even under motion. Had to wade multiple creeks. My hands were so cold and wet that they started to fail. After some anxious confusion with the horse side trails, I finally made my truck. My hands were so cold that I had to grip the key between my palms to open the door. Heat! It was over half an hour before I was able to unzip my jacket. Whoa, close one. That was the end of the bivy for me.
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