#highpointing

Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada

Borah Peak

8.2 miles roundtrip

5,301 feet elevation gain

Link: https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/idaho/mount-borah-trail--2

And just like that, it’s time for another state high point! This time it’s Borah Peak, the highest point in Idaho, with an elevation of 12,662 ft.

We decided to do this an overnighter since it was nearly 5 hours away. The drive itself wasn’t too bad, but we went through some patches of really, really heavy rain. It got a bit scary in some parts, but we made it there no problem.

The parking lot at the trailhead was PACKED with other people who must have had the same idea as us. There were only 5 official campsites there, and I estimated over 70 people camped out. We just pulled into an open spot and pitched the tent right by the car. With plans to wake up at 6:30am, we hit the sack.

At 5:30am, Emily woke me up because she was having trouble sleeping. We decided to start a bit earlier than expected, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. We had a quick bite to eat and hit the trail just as the sun was starting to creep up.

This trail was STEEP! We started out winding our way through some trees and taking frequent breaks to stay fresh. The switchbacks seemed to never end, but then we finally made it above the treeline and got our first view of the summit. Still a long way to go.

The next part of the trail was a super long stretch along the ridge line over some loose rocks. This was the calm before the storm, and also where we got passed by a ton of kids. It turns out the entire cross country team of the local high school was here to do the hike with us. They blew past us wearing jeans and string bags with no water, leaving me feeling older than I’ve ever felt before.

After the ridge line, we reached the crux of the hike: Chicken Out Ridge. I had been nervous planning this trip because of how many people got freaked out by this part and turned around, but it turned out to be not that bad and actually really fun. It was just a lengthy scramble up some rocks with some decent exposure, but there weren’t any parts where I felt unsafe. I’m sure that feeling comes from my years of experience rock climbing, but I think an average hiker would have no problem here. Emily also really impressed me with how confidently she moved through this section – I was struggling to keep up with her. We even got to see some fossils in this part!

Chicken Out Ridge ends with a 30ish foot downclimb with a fixed rope to help people. We saw the line of about 40 people to use the rope and decided to have a little adventure of our own to avoid the bottleneck. We climbed down the side instead and did some scrambling around the sides to bypass everyone. This was definitely not the safest option, and I may have put myself into a couple stupid/dangerous positions, but it all turned out ok. I felt like Alex Honnold free soloing out there.

The final push was an uber steep section right before the summit. At this elevation and this level of incline, we were struggling! We could only go a few minutes before having to stop to take a break. We also got lumped in with some decent crowds, and I ended up ditching the trail to scramble up the rocks to the right instead. I’d say it saved me a grand total of 2 minutes for about 3 times as much effort. That’s efficiency, baby.

The view from the top was unbelievable. We posed for some pictures, took a nice, long rest, ate our food, and began our descent.

The descent was almost as bad as the ascent. With the steepness and all the loose rock, you had to be incredibly deliberate with every step. Chicken Out Ridge was also a lot more difficult going down than up, but I still thought it was the most fun section of the trail.

The “mellow” parts left of the trail were done at a slow pace, which was good for both of us. We were both super tired and had run out of water, so we did what we could to conserve energy. This also meant that we were passed by literally everyone, and that is not an exaggeration! Hard to believe we started at sunrise and ended up being the last people on the trail.

The last few miles were quiet for us as were both exhausted and hangry, but some energy was injected into me at first sight of the car. We threw everything into the backseat and immediately headed home, feeling accomplished and on the lookout for the nearest Burger King.

Let me say that this trail was VERY challenging. Despite only being 8.2 miles roundtrip, it took us nearly 11 hours to finish. We gained over a mile of vert over 4.1 miles! That’s bananas!

Mt. Rainier

Paradise to Camp Muir:  4,788 ft gain in 5:49

Camp Muir to Summit:  4,222 ft gain in 5:50

Final elevation: 14,410 ft

Link: https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/washington/mount-rainier-standard-summit-route

Buckle up for this one because it’s going to be a long one.

I was supposed to climb Mt. Rainier last year, but the trip got canceled because of COVID. I knew this was going to be one of my toughest highpoints to check off, and I wanted to use it as an opportunity to learn as much as possible to learn about alpine and glacier traveling. RMI Expeditions offered a 5-day program with multiple days of training, so I knew it was the perfect route for me to go.

I got picked up in Seattle by some other people on the trip, and we made our way to basecamp in Ashford. The first day was just orientation and gear check. I had to rent a few pieces of equipment, but most of the stuff on the list I either had already or was able to borrow from Nick back in Salt Lake. Some interesting gear that I didn’t have any prior experience with were crampons, double leather boots, gaiters, and an ice axe.

We also met our lead guide, Jenny, on the first day. All I can say about Jenny is that she’s a total badass, and I knew that she was going to get us up and down that mountain safely. Our team had 8 climbers not including the guides: Chris, Minia, Jim, Jason, Jamie, Ricky, Eli, and myself.

Once we had all our gear sorted out and learned the best way to stuff it all into a backpack, we broke for the day. I was staying at a campsite only a few miles away, so I headed there to try and rest up for the big days to come. Conveniently, this campsite featured a bird that constantly pecked at the metal roof of the building in the center of the camp as well as a small army of screaming children with their parents’ Trump flags billowing in the wind. Terrific stuff.

Day 2 was a training day. We went to a snowy part near the bottom of the mountain and learned how to walk up and down hills with crampons, self and team arrest with an ice axe, anchor an ice spike, and walk as a team of 4 people. On Rainier, we’d be tethered together for nearly the whole climb. There needs to be 30 ft of rope between each person because that’s how wide the crevasses are on the mountain in case someone falls in. Jamie also shared that she had fallen into a crevasse while trying to climb Mt. Baker, so the dangers of the climb were starting to become more and more apparent.

We also got to meet our second guide, Steve, who used to be a pro hockey player and is missing his two front teeth to prove it. He actually plays now for the Idaho team in the BDHL, which I’m trying to play for in Park City. Small world!

After minimal training I still felt incredibly unprepared, but that didn’t matter because we were climbing anyways. The next day, we met a Paradise parking lot at around 9 am and started our climb! Our goal for that day was to get to Camp Muir, where we’d be staying for our nights on the mountain. It has a bunkhouse for us to sleep in as well as tents for the unvaxxed folks.

The hike up to Camp Muir was a slog and gave us a taste of exactly how difficult this climb would be. Steep hills and slushy snow made for some tough terrain, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. We all walked in a straight line, with each person kick-stepping into the previous person’s footprints. This meant the last person in line had practically a staircase for all the steep hills. Imagine climbing a 5,000 ft high staircase with a 40 lb backpack on your back, and that’s roughly what our experience was like. Chris ended up falling way behind and Eli pulled something in his leg about 75% of the way up, and it was tough to see team members fall off like that.

I think the worst part was that everything seemed deceptively close. When we caught out first glimpse of Camp Muir, it looked like it was 5 minutes away. Wrong! We still had another hour to go after seeing it. That bit was demoralizing.

Eventually we all made it to Camp Muir and claimed our spots in the bunkhouse. The guides provided hot water for our meals and prepared us for the next day. Based on the weather forecast, our best chance to summit would be the next day. This means waking up at 12:30 am and heading out of camp at 2 am, so we all headed to bed straight after dinner. The elevation and general excitement/anxiety led me to get MAYBE an hour of sleep before the guides came roaring in at 12:30 to wake us up. They said it was pretty normal to not sleep the night before the climb, but that didn’t make me feel any less tired.

Chris and Eli weren’t fit to climb, so we departed as a team of 6 with our guides. With only our headlamps to guide us, all you could really do was keep your head down and look at your feet. We had to conserve energy by rest-stepping into the footprints of the person in front of you. I started out on a rope with Jenny and Minia, and Jenny set us off into the darkness with a nice, slow pace.

We crossed Cowlitz Glacier and then made it to Ingraham Glacier. The scariest part was crossing some pretty narrow bridges over crevasses. I tried not to think about the fact that you couldn’t see the bottom when you looked down them and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. After crossing the glaciers, we took our first break after about an hour. We put our parkas on to stay warm and tried our best to force food and water down. It’s crazy how hard it is to eat at that elevation. This was also where Minia decided she couldn’t go any further, so one of the guides took her back and we changed up our rope teams. Now we’re down to 5 members.

The next bit was absolutely debilitating. We had to ascend Disappointment Cleaver (cleaver? I barely know her), which was a rocky section full of switchbacks. Normally I feel pretty at-home while scrambling over rocks, but doing it in crampons with full backpacks and no light was terrible. All I tried to do was focus on my breathing and ignore the grating sounds of metal spikes on rocks. I was tied in with Ricky for this part, and I could tell he was having a hard time. After about an hour and half of climbing, we sat down for our second break and had a breathtaking view of the sunrise. That view alone almost made the cleaver worth it, but I can barely put into words how much that part sucked.

Break passed quickly, and before we could start up again Jim decided that he couldn’t go any further. Jenny made the executive decision to call it for Ricky too, so they both tied up with another guide and started heading back down. Now there were only 3 of our original team left: Jason, Jamie, and myself. We all tied in with Jenny and became the J-Line (since, ya know, my middle name is John…)

The next bit I could only describe as a seemingly never-ending staircase. At this elevation, every step becomes a struggle. Our pace is slow but steady, I’d say we’re taking roughly one step every two seconds. Try that out for a quick second to understand just how slow our pace needed to be to be sustainable.

The last leg really took its toll on Jamie who was in the back. I was trying to crack jokes to keep team morale high, but everyone was getting their ass kicked by this crazy mountain. After what felt like an eternity of climbing, we eventually reach the crater at the top of the mountain. The crater is considered the summit, but the true summit was about another 30 minute hike past this point. I was so excited and full of adrenaline that I practically ran toward it. Jamie and Jason stayed behind, content with the crater, so I ended up being the only person of my 8 person team to reach the true summit.

I snapped some pictures up there (and recorded a quick clip for my next Survivor application) before starting to feel light-headed and heading back to the team on the crater. Little did I know that my rushing to the true summit would lead to a truly miserable descent: my trip to the top meant that I didn’t get a break like the rest of the team. As soon as I made it back to the crater, I had about 2 minutes of sitting before it was time to head down. We were in a time crunch because some unusual heat was going to produce bad descent conditions, so we needed to leave before it got too bad. I thought I’d be ok with a super short break, but boy was I wrong.

The heat, the elevation, and the exhaustion proceeded to destroy my body on the descent. My head hurt, my body ached, and I started to get tunnel vision. I had to keep telling myself “the only way off this mountain is down, and you sure as hell can’t afford a copter ride out of here.” I was stumbling all over the place and started getting really scared that things were going to end badly.

Pure grit got me to the first break, where I felt nauseous and could barely eat or drink. I put away as much water as I could, which made me feel only slighter better. Still, the only way off was down, and it was time for Disappointment Cleaver round two.

Downhill rocks with crampons on felt like a living nightmare. I was slipping a ton and I was walking in a daze. It felt like a miracle when we finally made it through and returned to the snow. This came with its own frustrations, as Jason and I kept post-holing waist deep into the snow. I wanted to shout and cry and just lay down every time this happened. My morale never felt lower.

I think one of my favorite things about hiking is just the simplicity of it. All you do is put left foot over right foot over left foot until you make it to your destination. The best I could do was focus on this as we continued our descent to Camp Muir. When we finally rounded the corner and saw it, I nearly wept. I felt terrible: I was out of water, my head was throbbing, my clothes were soaked from sweat, and my feet felt like they were about to fall off. The final steps into camp had me on the brink of collapsing.

I immediately rushed into the bunkhouse to take off my layers and try to hydrate and cool down. I laid in my bunk for a couple hours but didn’t feel any better. I was guzzling water but wasn’t peeing, which had me worried. I felt nauseous and dizzy and couldn’t cool down. Jenny came to check on me, and said that I probably had heat exhaustion, which is crazy to think of when you’re on a mountain covered in snow. She said that all the water I drank was diluting my body, and that my body was probably starved of electrolytes. She made me a quesadilla and brought me a Gatorade as I continued laying in bed.

After trying unsuccessfully to sleep it off, I went outside and proceeded to immediately throw up everything. The liter and a half of water I had drank since we got back came spewing out. The good thing is that this helped with my nausea! I still felt like ass, though. I went back into the bunkhouse and tried to sip the Gatorade and nibble the quesadilla as much as my body would allow me. Luckily, I was able to get a bit of a nap in too. I had gone the last 30 or so hours on only an hour of sleep, and my body was not happy about it.

The nap + Gatorade + quesadilla combo helped me to feel a lot better. It still felt like a struggle to get anything into my body. The rest of the team met with the guides to learn some knots since we had time to kill, but I didn’t have any strength to get out of bed. That was a low moment for me.

Night finally fell and it felt like a miracle that I was able to get some sleep. The wind was howling all night and there was a symphony of snoring coming from the other bunks. I woke up around 4 am and actually felt moderately ok, so I think my body was finally recovering.

I kept sleeping on and off until it got to be about time to go. We packed everything up and it was finally time to get the hell off this mountain. The Camp Muir to Paradise hike was almost enjoyable even. It was all downhill so we kept a good pace, and there were tons of “luge” spots where you could slide down on your ass. That’s my kind of descent.

After about 2 hours, we finally made it to the pavement of the Paradise parking lot, and I wanted to kiss the ground. We headed back to Ashford to return our rental gear and celebrate with our team over some beer and burgers.

Driving up the 7 mile access road, visibility ranged from 100 yards to 100 feet thanks to dense fog, mist, and strong wind gusts.  It only got thicker as we reached the parking area.  Kelly would later joke that I am cursed by unexpected weather and today she was correct.

Clingmans Dome – Driving to the top

Clingmans Dome – Parking lot view

The 0.5 mile hiking trail is completely paved to the summit making it relatively easy, but it does gain several hundred feet of elevation sharply.  Views all hidden by fog.

Clingmans Dome – Trail sign

Clingmans Dome – Paved trail view

Clingmans Dome – Paved trail view

The Appalachian Trail crosses with Clingmans Dome trail.  Kelly wanted photos with the sign – does this officially make us AT section hikers?

Clingmans Dome – Appalachian Trail sign

Clingmans Dome – Appalachian Trail sign

At the summit there is a 45-foot observation tower with a winding concrete walkway.  Once again, views were obscured by fog…

Clingmans Dome – Lookout Tower

Clingmans Dome – Southern View from the lookout tower

Clingmans Dome – Eastern View from the lookout tower

Back at the parking lot, balaclava-clad ninja Kelly wanted to re-create a photo she took earlier this year mainly as a joke due to today’s lack of mountain views.  Minutes later, the park rangers closed the roads for weather and kicked us out.  We drove back down the mountain in the dark using low-gears and headed to the hotel in Gatlinburg for the night.

Clingmans Dome – Kelly posing in front of the amazing foggy views

Hiking Data

The trail from parking lot to summit is only around 0.5 one way and gains elevation sharply, but thanks to the paved path it isn’t very difficult.  The wind and fog/mist made it more challenging and wet than normal today.  Checked off another highpointing location on the list – that makes 2 for the year!

GaiaGPS hiking data @ Clingmans Dome

GaiaGPS hiking data @ Clingmans Dome

GaiaGPS hiking data @ Clingmans Dome

From the main parking area & trailhead, its a relatively short hike up to the summit.  Leaves completely covered the path but it was wide and easy to distinguish.

Timms Hill – Main info sign at trailhead

Timms Hill – Start of trail to peak

Timms Hill – Commemorative monument

Timms Hill – Trail heading towards peak

After the short hike you reach the observation tower and a side tower with communications or weather equipment (not sure, but its the taller object on the right).  Observation tower is some 5 stories high give or take.

Timms Hill – View of tower from trail

Timms Hill – View of tower from below

Timms Hill – View looking up at comms side tower

Most exciting part?  I get to check off my first official USGS highpoint marker!

Timms Hill – USGS survey marker

Timms Hill – Highpointing placard

Timms Hill – Mailbox on tower base

Views from the top are stunning even though all the leaves have fallen.  Winds here were very strong, likely gusting above 50mph consistently.  Very cold today.

Timms Hill – View from top of tower

Timms Hill – View from top of tower

Timms Hill – View from top of tower

Timms Hill – View from top of tower

Timms Hill – View down from tower

Saved the best photo for last – got a decent panorama with the iPhone.

Timms Hill – Panorama View from tower

For a list of all the highest points in the US 50 states & to track my progress, follow this link (caution: page is currently a work-in-progress but will get more organized in time).