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As I delicately pulled myself over the bulging chockstone, my hiking boots precariously gripped to the quarter sized granite footholds, I realized we might have just violated the “golden rule” of mountaineering, never climb up anything you can’t climb back down. There we were at 12,000 feet on the southern flanks of the mighty Warbonnet Peak, buried deep within the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming, one of the most secluded spots in the lower United States. We had backpacked in 8 miles from the trailhead which was 48 miles of dirt road from the nearest highway, the nearest town of any substantial size another 50 miles further yet. Remote; and now committed to solve Warbonnet’s maze of ledges, cliffs, and refrigerator sized boulders ready to tumble down the mountain with the slightest touch. I’m getting ahead of myself though, let me back up for a minute.

The genesis of this latest “adventure” germinated from several different seeds. With the summer high country season rapidly coming to a close with the onset of fall and the inevitable early snows, I had a void inside that only high alpine excursions can fill. Our summer passed too quickly with only a handful of state highpoint summits and a few dayhikes to 14,000 foot peaks in Colorado. I was unsatiated and I needed a trip someplace high and wild, the formidable Wind River Range of Wyoming fit the bill perfectly.

Now we just needed to choose a destination within “The Winds.” I had the epiphany that it was almost 10 years to the day that I did a solo backpack over Labor Day Weekend into the Southern Winds to climb Mitchell Peak. Mitchell Peak is half of a duet of granite bastions that guard the southern entrance to the exquisite alpinist playground known as The Cirque of The Towers. The other guardian is Warbonnet Peak, so it was decided. For me it would be a journey of introspection and reflection back to the Southern Winds, a perfect itinerary to send summer off with a bang and also contemplate back over the ebb and flow of the past 10 years of my life.

Starting out under a cloudless blue sky from the Big Sandy Lake Trailhead the first six miles undulate along the Big Sandy River through open meadows and stately pine forests.  The forest shade was a welcome relief from the intense gaze of the sun and miles rolled by surprisingly quickly given our needlessly heavy packs, we somehow always bring way too much food.  The scenery was sublime with the vertical granite faces Haystack Mountain, East Temple Peak, and Temple Peak dotting the skyline. 

Big Sandy Creek

Big Sandy Lake

Haystack Mountain, East Temple, and Temple Peak

From Big Sandy Lake at 9,700 feet elevation we had another 600 vertical feet and two miles to go over Jackass Pass to North Lake which would serve as our basecamp.  As we skirted the rocky ledges along the eastern shore of North Lake the upper flanks of Warbonnet Peak came into view, it looked steeper and more complex than expected.  The brief description in Joe Kelsy’s 20 year old guidebook devoted two entire sentences to our route; to me it looked deserving of at least a paragraph. The route description was so vague that it wasn’t even worth the weight the photocopied page would add to my pack so I didn’t bother bringing it along.  Searching the internet for trip reports was also fruitless so we were armed with just a topo map, how hard can a supposed class 3 route be anyway?

We found a suitable basecamp site in a small clump of gnarled and wind bent pines above the western shore of North Lake. The tent was erected, water filtered, and dinner quickly prepared and devoured.  After the food bag was hung far from the tent (this is bear country after all) and summit packs readied we were nestled in to our down cocoons around 8 p.m., tired but happy to be back in The Winds.  As the sun dipped below the horizon Warbonnet’s intimidating east face, sprinkled with its classically hard rock climbing routes, cast a long shadow over our tent.  With the stellar weather forecast and route finding challenges directly above basecamp that would be easiest in daylight we decided on a post-dawn departure, a luxury most alpine adventures rarely allow.  We set the alarm for 7 a.m. and were fast asleep under the thickest blanket of stars you’ll find anywhere.

Sundance Pinnacle and Warbonnet Peak

East Face of Warbonnet

Sunset on East Temple Peak

It was a little after 8 a.m. by the time we departed for the summit and the challenges were immediate.  The first line of defense on route to the ridge between Warbonnet and the Sundance Pinnacle was car and house-sized boulders that needed to be clambered over, under, around, and through.  Next the slope steepened to a pitch that required use of our hands and the terrain varied from kitty litter, to broken cliffs, to and an industrial-size game of Jenga with the pieces resembling basketballs and microwave ovens.  Progress through the alpine quagmire was painstakingly slow, taking 1.5 hours to gain 500 vertical feet and finally crest the ridge. 

Warbonnet’s mighty east face

Sundance Pinnacle

Almost to the ridge

From the ridge we craned our necks skyward analyzing the complicated and difficult gauntlet that lie between us and the summit.  Somewhere on the immense granite face was the answer to Warbonnet’s riddle and upward we went confident we could solve the puzzle.  Towards the eastern edge of the face were two chimney systems and we thought the leftmost option looked easiest.  It was towards the top of this ever steepening chimney system where we were faced with a vertical 20 foot class 4/low 5 section topped with a bulging chockstone.  Knowing the route was rated class 3 it became quickly evident that the Wind Rivers must follow the California designation of class 4 terrain where if you fall you die; Colorado has a different definition of class 4 based solely on the difficulty of the climbing moves.  A fall here wouldn’t be fatal, you would just lay there a crumpled mess for days waiting for your partner to make it 8 miles back to the trailhead and then drive another 30 to initiate a rescue once they finally had cell phone reception.    

Rubble gully

Getting more serious

Let’s snap back to the present moment now that I’ve caught you up to speed on how we got ourselves into this little predicament.  With heightened anticipation I watched Carolyn climb the chimney and surmount the chockstone after me.  Once on the ledge with me she asked “Are we going to be able to get back down?”  I could hear the fear in her voice, this coming from a girl who has led 5.12 sport routes on solid and predictable rock faces.  Warbonnet was anything but solid or predictable.  I reassured her we would find an easier way down, telling her we would only downclimb this difficult section as a measure of last resort after exhausting all other options.  A mountaineer should never make a move they can’t easily reverse, good words I try to live by but a little late now.  The last time I found myself in this situation was 15 years ago in Vedauwoo, Wyoming, a burly rock climbing destination near Cheyenne, where I clambered up a 5th class pinnacle naively believing there must be an easier way down on the other side.  There wasn’t and climbing the hundreds of feet back down to the ground is still one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

Fortunately for us there wasn’t a cloud in the sky in any direction so we had all day to poke and prod Warbonnet’s defenses.  It was only because of the impeccable weather that I decided it was still prudent to keep heading to the summit.  As we continued upward I began traversing the mountain in earnest actively looking for a better way down.  The upper part of the mountain was riddled with boulders the size of TVs and refrigerators and we vigilantly tapped and knocked on the rocks to see if they were solid before pulling on them.  Last summer I had a friend put her hand on a TV-sized rock climbing Mt. Sacajawea in the Northern Winds which caused it to roll over her leg breaking her femur and crushing all the bones in her foot.  Fortunately for her she had a SPOT device and 4 other teammates with her so she made it out alive after a 20 hour rescue effort involving a SAR team and a helicopter.  We had no SPOT and it was just the two of us so getting hurt was not an option.

Near the summit I turned on my cellphone hoping for the added reassurance that a signal would provide.  No such luck, we were that far off the grid.  I found it ironic that my dad is a civil engineer building cell phone towers for the largest provider in Wyoming; boy do I have a suggestion for where the next tower should go.

Warbonnet has several pinnacles near the summit and we were unsure which one was the absolute highest.  We got to the base of the seemingly highest pinnacle and it was way too difficult for us to climb unroped.   I told Carolyn “this can’t be it, there is no way anyone would rate this class 3 or even class 4.”  I found a slot through this rock buttress that allowed me a view to the east and the true summit was higher still.  The final 20 or 30 feet to the summit involved another chimney section that I would call Colorado class 4 but at least this one had solid rock and we would be able to see where to place our feet on the climb down.

Thankfully that is NOT the summit

Final class “3″ to the summit

Final moves to the summit

Finally at 12 p.m. we reached the apex of Warbonnet Peak, it took us 4 hours to go barely a ½ mile and climb 2200 vertical feet.  To the north the forbidding sentinels of The Cirque of The Towers were dressed in full battle regalia and you would be hard pressed to find a better view anywhere, this is America’s Patagonia, Alps, and Karokoram.  For a few fleeting moments anxiety faded into jubilation as we soaked in the 360 degree throne room of the Mountain Gods.  To the north the hauntingly beautiful Wolfs Head, Pingora, Shark’s Nose and Overhanging Tower commanded attention.  To the west the sweeping granite faces Warbonnet’s sister summits Warrior I and Warrior II refused to be denied.  Mitchell Peak and Lizard Head boldly guarded the eastern front and in all my travels I’ve yet to find a higher concentration of Grade A quality peaks, the scenery is simply exquisite.

I made a few futile attempts to call my mom and let her know our status from both my and Carolyn’s cell phone with no luck; Wyoming is still very much a wild place for better and sometimes for worse.  After many pictures and video footage we departed and made the delicate “class 3” downclimb from the summit.   I’m not sure how many class 3 climbs actually require spotting your partner and placing their feet for them but I digress.  We trended west as we descended hoping a grassy gully between Warbonnet and Warrior II would get us to the bottom without cliffing out.  I would get a bit ahead of Carolyn scouting a doable descent route through any difficulties so by the time she got down to me I had another piece of the puzzle in place.  We rinsed and repeated this several times. 

Occasionally we would knock a pretty substantial rock loose that would rancorously crash down the slopes, eventually smashing apart leaving the signature smell of gunshot residue behind that many mountaineers know all too well.  I was beyond relieved when halfway down the face I could see that the grassy gully would indeed get us all the way off of Warbonnet’s upper flanks.  All that remained was slipping down Jenga slope below the Sundance Pinnacle and crawling through the boulder field where we arrived back at basecamp around 3 p.m.  It took us almost 7 hours to go 1 mile roundtrip and we were physically and mentally drained from the intense concentration.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon lounging on the shores of North Lake eating like royalty, after all we were In the Hall of the Mountain King and we could almost hear Grieg resonating off of Temple Peak and Haystack Mountain.  We retired early with the only plan for tomorrow being a casual hike into The Cirque of The Towers to see it from below.  Aside from a marmot crashing into Carolyn’s head in the middle of the night, we slept rather well.

Mitchell Peak

Carolyn happy to be back to camp

Doesn’t get much better than this

I really wanted Carolyn to see The Cirque from the inside; the views from atop Warbonnet were amazing but the granite faces of The Cirque of The Towers are even better and more humbling from the bottom, but that will be another blog post…stay tuned