Kings Peak, UT, July 3rd - 7th, 2003

During the 4th of July weekend of 2003, we decided to do a backpacking trip to hike the high point of Utah, Kings Peak at 13,528 feet. We've visited 17 of the state highpoints so far, and this would be our first one in a couple of years. Since the hike is 28 miles round trip, and we'd be doing it with our 5 1/2 month old son, Tyler, we needed to do even more planning than usual. We were initially concerned about how Tyler would handle the altitude, but after consulting with our pediatrician and some of our childcare books, we found out that there were no special risks at his age. After approximately 3 months of age, children's lungs have developed to the point that altitude poses no more risk to them than an adult. Still, we would want to take some precautions such as keeping him well hydrated, and keeping a close eye on him for any signals that he was especially uncomfortable.

The map below shows the location of the Uinta Mountain
Range as well as our home in Hamilton, Montana.



Kings Peak is in the Uinta Mountains of northeast Utah/southeast Wyoming (see map above). The Uintas claim to fame is that they are the most prominent east-west range in the lower 48 states, covering a distance of 150 miles in length and 50 miles in width. The core of the range is Precambrian rock composed of quartzite, sandstone, and shale over 600 million years old, which is now cut into numerous U-shaped canyons carved by glacial activity. The Uintas are also the highest range in Utah, with almost a dozen peaks over 13,000 feet. Although elevations drop down to around 7,000 - 8,000 feet in some of the lower canyons, much of the terrain comprising the basins seems to be in the 9,000 - 11,000 foot range. Treeline is generally advertised as being around 10,000 feet, although we found fairly large trees in the Henry's Fork Basin even at elevations over 11,000 feet. The trees in the area are generally conifers, including Engelmann Spruce, subalpine fir, and lodgepole pine, but there are also aspen groves in some of the lower areas. There's plenty of wildlife such as moose, elk, deer, black bear, mountain sheep, bobcat, and fox. Despite the Uintas "claim to fame" of being the most prominent east-west range in the contiguous United States, I don't think I'd ever heard much about the Uintas aside from maybe seeing the name while browsing a map. It's incredibly beautiful country, but I doubt many people would even know about the Uintas (even less than now) if they didn't contain the highpoint of Utah. It seems that a good portion of the local folks in the Utah/Wyoming area know about them, but when I talked with folks in Montana about where I was going, most of them had never heard of the Uinta Mountains.

While Kings Peak can be done in one VERY long day hike, it's usually done as a multi-day backpacking trip. We decided to give ourselves 5 days to accomplish both the driving (approximately 8-10 hours one way from our home in Hamilton, Montana), and the hike itself. Although Tyler had been on a number of day hikes, as well as several nights of car camping, he had not been backcountry camping. We had no idea what sorts of issues he would have while we were out in the wilderness, so we wanted to make sure we had extra time if needed. Our plan would also give us a bit of leeway in case thunderstorms or other bad weather fouled up our hike.

One of the first things we had to figure out for this trip was how to carry all of our necessary gear and food in addition to Tyler. We knew that we would want to do some backpacking while he was still an infant, so when we purchased a child carrier, we got one with as much storage space as possible. We were very impressed with the Kelty K.I.D.S. line of carriers, and eventually settled on the Pinnacle model, which has almost 2000 cubic inches of storage space for gear. Without this option, we realized that the logistics of gear hauling would be difficult. One person is removed from the equation if they carry only the baby, and the other person is then relegated to carrying THREE people's equipment and food, a daunting task to be sure. Erica did a nice job of test packing the carrier prior to the trip, and found that it could easily accommodate all of Tyler's gear, clothes, and food. That meant that I would only have to carry the gear for the adults, still daunting, but manageable. Our internal frame packs that we have used for all of our previous backpacking trips are rather small (3000 cubic inches) but there has been plenty of space for what we needed. There was no way we'd be able to use one of our usual packs in this case, and even if it was possible, most of the gear would have to be strapped to the outside, making the weight distribution less than optimal. So, we headed out to our local sporting goods store to get a larger pack. We ended up getting a Dakota 6000 (6000 cubic inches) from Kelty, which, having roughly the space of our other two packs combined, was likely to do the trick.

The Dakota 6000 was amazing. It held almost all the gear for the two if us INSIDE, even the long tent stakes. Usually I have them along the edge of my pack on the outside, since they are just too big to stuff inside our other packs. Since our tent is a 4-season model, it's a bit heavier than some, but it's nice not to have to worry about even the strongest wind storms giving us a problem. We also get a good 10 degrees (F) of additional warmth inside the tent when it's buttoned up with the rainfly, and that's very helpful as we try to keep things warm for the baby. We did have to buy a couple of compression sacks for our sleeping bags in order to fit them in the pack. Since they are 4-season bags, they are somewhat bulky, but the tradeoff is that we can use them all-year round instead of having multiple bags. The compression sacks worked great, and compressed the sleeping bags to approximately half their size. Erica prepared a great menu (10 meals) with some nice dishes from our "One Pan Gourmet" cookbook, and along with our remaining small technical items (headlamps, maps, compass etc.) we had a complete package. Finally, as the day of departure approached, we began to weigh the packs to get an idea of what we would have to haul. My pack came out to be over 55 pounds, which was certainly the biggest pack I'd ever carried. This was in the range of ~40% of my body weight, which meant I would have my work cut out for me. Erica's pack wasn't much lighter at ~45 pounds (with Tyler in it who was around 15 pounds). Still, both the packs were simply outstanding about distributing the weight, and we felt like we could handle them.

After consulting reports from other people who'd done the hike, as well as our copy of Don Holmes' book, "Highpoints of the United States", we had come up with a tentative schedule for the trip. On Thursday, we would drive down to the Henry's Fork Trailhead and hike a few miles on the Henry's Fork Trail in the evening before setting up camp. This would shorten our hike for the next day. The plan for Friday was to hike up Gunsight Pass, down into Painter Basin, and set up our second camp. Although it would be difficult to haul the heavy packs up and over Gunsight Pass, the goal was to camp as close as possible on the route to the summit. We wanted to get up and down very early on summit day (Saturday), to account for the thunderstorms that everyone talks about. On Sunday we planned to hike back over the pass, head back down the Henry's Fork trail as far as possible, and camp along the trail or even at the Henry's Fork Campground if we made it that far. On Monday, we'd finish our hike out if needed, and drive home. In theory it seemed like a good plan, but I wouldn't recommend this route to others, and I'm happy we didn't have to go through with certain parts of it, which I'll talk about when we get there.


Thursday July 3rd, 2003

I'd had a late night of working in the lab, and then a couple of additional hours Thursday morning in order to get an experiment running over the long weekend. But, we finally left Hamilton at around 8:00 A.M. We had to make a couple of stops along the way, one to pick up a road map of Utah, and a second to ship off a bunch of copies of our latest ski movie. Since we'd left so early, we couldn't ship out of our local post office and had to wait until we reached the town of Wisdom, Montana in the Big Hole Valley, about 75 minutes from our house. Wisdom is a small place, and so is the post office. They still use the traditional types of scales (non-electronic) for weighing the packages, which slowed things down a bit. E was thinking that our shipment (~10 packages) was one of the biggest they'd done in a while. The next stop of note was in Pocatello, Idaho, where we stopped for some gas and food. I've always though Pocatello was interesting, the way it's nestled in among the hills. However, like many of the towns I've seen in parts of the western U.S., while the town itself has green grass and trees, the surrounding hillsides were already quite brown at this point in the summer.

Our chosen route to the Uintas took us south on I-15 to Ogden, Utah, where we headed west on I-84 then I-80 into Wyoming. It was on I-80 in Wyoming that we got our first views of the Uintas. They stood out fairly easily as I looked to the south, a large mass of mountains, some still holding onto large areas of snow. I wasn't sure which peak was Kings from this distance, because even though I could see a large peak near the center of the range that seemed to be the tallest, it might have simply been closer and appeared that way. We were now traveling along in generally rolling country at elevations of 6,000 - 7,000 feet. In the times I've been through Wyoming, I've generally found that this sort of terrain is common. There are mountain ranges of course, with trees and different sorts of views, but more often than not you're traveling through high plains with not a lot to look at. Finally, we got to the town of Mountain View (elevation 6,798 feet) topped off the tank, and got a last couple of drinks before we committed ourselves to the wilderness. Tyler had been very good for much of the trip, but now he was hungry and getting a bit pissed off. We didn't want to stop and waste too much time at this hour, so I hopped in the back and fed him with a bottle while E kept driving. We gradually climbed up in elevation as we headed south from town, and soon got back into the trees. I was amazed at how wide and nice the forest roads were that led to the Henry's Fork trailhead. The directions in the Highpoints Guidebook were excellent, and after about 30 minutes on the forest roads, we found ourselves at the Henry's Fork Trailhead (elevation 9,400 feet).

If you would like to follow our hiking on a map of the area, click on the image to the left to open a high-resolution topographic map (~300 kB) in a new window. If your browser shrinks the map down, you may need to click in the lower right of the image to expand it to regular size. The map is annotated to indicate out route, campsites, and other points of interest.

The Henry's Fork campground seemed quite nice, and I was especially impressed at the clean restrooms. We had arrived at the campground at around 6:30 P.M., and after about 30 minutes of final packing, signing in, and adjusting our loads, we were on our way up the Henry's Fork Trail. The trail followed along above the Henry's Fork River at this point, through woods filled with conifers. The slope was quite gradual, although there were a few points in which I could feel the heft of my pack. Fortunately, neither of us seemed to notice any problems from the altitude; we took it slowly and focused on getting to a campsite. After a mile or so, the trail moved away from the river a bit, and the terrain flattened out. Now and then there would be open meadows amongst the trees, and we decided we'd find one of these to camp in. At around the 3-mile mark (elevation 9,800 feet), we found a spot and started setting up the tent.

We were happy that we'd knocked off 3 miles in 1.5 hours, even with the big packs, but we still needed time to set up the tent. It was at this point that we finally got to experience the difficulty of wilderness camping with an infant. The mosquitoes were already out, and although we had a bug net for Tyler's carrier, he had no interest in sitting in it while we worked. He squirmed and cried, and eventually, E had to walk around with him while I set up the campsite. Fortunately, once the tent was up, E and Tyler could get inside and set up the bedding. This at least gave us some efficiency. I hung our food in bear bags in a tree a little way off in the meadow, and finally got in the tent to catch some sleep. I slept really well the first night, although unfortunately Erica had a tough time due to a headache. The temperature in the tent dropped to 45 degrees that night, so I'm guessing the low was around 35 degrees outside.


Friday July 4th, 2003

We got out of the tent around 8:00 A.M. and discovered that there were still mosquitoes around. Because of this, E headed over to the trail with Tyler where the sun was out and the bugs weren't. I was once again on tent and packing duty. While I was working on the tent, E talked to a gentleman who passed by on his way up the Henry's Fork Trail. When she talked to him about our plans to head over Gunsight Pass and camp in Painter Basin, he suggested that it wasn't worth going all the way over the pass with our huge packs. We were thankful for the discussion, since it turns out that there aren't really any trees in the upper part of Painter Basin (which we found out later) and it probably wouldn't have made our summit day that much easier. We decided to skip breakfast in lieu of a big lunch, and around 9:30 A.M., we were on our way. The trail continued its gradual climb, and became more wooded for a bit as we followed along the river. After a mile or so, we took a quick break and got some pictures in an area of pine trees. At some point in this area we also came across an interesting metal contraption off in a field. I'm not sure what it's for (maybe weather observations or something) but it was shaped like the letter "Z" up on a pole.

We continued along the river through more wooded terrain, and at 5.2 miles, we reached the crossing of Henry's Fork (Elevation 10,360'). Signs indicated that immediately down the bank to our left was the footbridge, and maybe 100 yards ahead was the stream ford (Elkhorn Crossing). We dropped our packs at the bridge, and I quickly ran ahead to check out the ford. I found that the water at the ford was easily a couple feet deep, and rushing swiftly. Although the footbridge was only composed of 3 logs, it seemed safer than trying to cross through the rushing water carrying Tyler. I headed back to the footbridge, and we planned our crossing. Since I was still a bit worried about crossing with a pack load of almost 60 pounds, I took off my pack and moved it across on the log in a series of small lifts. I then came back and passed Tyler to E, who carried him across. I followed across last with the baby carrier on one shoulder (one shoulder strap off just in case I fell in). The river was only 10-15 feet across, but it was plenty deep to drown someone if they got pulled under with their heavy pack. I set up the video camera before our crossing, and got some good footage of the event.





On the other side of the bridge there was a beautiful clearing with a nice log to sit on and a flat area of rock on the ground that would be excellent for cooking. Tyler needed to be fed, and certainly needed a break out of the pack, so we took a nice long lunch. We cooked up the pancakes that we had skipped for breakfast and got to meet lots of other hikers that we passing through or pausing in the area. All told I think we spent two hours in the area before heading on, but that's the pace at which things can go when you travel with an infant.

We continued on our way, now on the other (east) side of the Henry's Fork River. We followed the river closely for a while, its babbling noise keeping us aware of its presence. After about 30 minutes, we reached a very long meadow with the river flowing in scrubby vegetation off to our right. At this point, Tyler started to get quite grumpy and we had to stop for a while and let him get out of the carrier. E was feeding him every two hours to alleviate any issues with the altitude and dry air, but he just wasn't happy sitting in the carrier at this point. Trees (and therefore shade) were getting a bit scarce at this point, but as we left the long meadow, the trail rose more steeply through a nicely forested area. We took the chance to stop here before continuing on into the next open area, which turned out to be huge.


The next meadow encompassed a large area of the Henry's Fork Basin. I'd say it must be at least a couple of miles long, stretching all the way to the Dollar Lake area before substantial amounts of trees appeared again. This was certainly one of the most difficult parts of the day, with Tyler needing a couple of long stops, but shaded areas to avoid the hot afternoon sun were hard to come by. We had to stop at the few lone trees that were present along the trail, at one point laying down for about 30 minutes while Tyler regained his composure. Finally, he was ready to get back in the saddle (so to speak) and we could make good time. It was at this point of the trip that we could really get a sense of the Henry's Fork Basin. It was probably 2-3 miles wide, with steep rocky peaks on three sides. The vertical relief from the basin is not actually very great, generally 1000-2000 feet, which makes for an interesting view. It certainly feels like a "basin" much more than a canyon. We had an idea of which Peak was Kings, and we could see a large rock slide that reached down into the basin from the area of Anderson Pass. I believe this is another possible route for getting to Kings, since I've heard reports of people taking it. We couldn't quite see Gunsight Pass from this area, so we had to wait in anticipation to see that part of our route.


The next big obstacle on the trail was a large muddy area in the middle of the meadow. A stream meandered its way across the meadow, but split into fingers in the flat ground and made a lot of mud. Many hikers were scattered around looking for the best route to cross the water and mud. Finally, I decided I'd just take the route that looked best and suck up the mud. We had our boots on and that's what they're made for. With my heavy pack, I was sinking in a good six inches at times, but I managed to get through without any leaking. E's boots, which don't rise quite as high as mine on the ankle, were just barely enough to get her through. I didn't relish the though of what we were doing to the trail with regards to erosion, but there didn't seem to be any other way across. The other hikers in the area were soon doing the same thing.

Not long after the mud, we reached a large forested area (elevation 10,800'). This was the Dollar Lake/Henry's Fork Lake region were many people choose to camp. The only sign we saw to sugguest that we were in the Dollar Lake area was a sign indicating no campfires were allowed in a large radius around the lakes. We kept anticipating a sign indicating where Dollar lake was located, but saw none. About 1/2 mile later we met up with a fellow who seemed to be a regular in the area, and he asked us where we were camping. Our plan was to get as close as possible to Gunsight Pass to minimize our summit hike, but we also wanted to be in trees for protection from the sun and wind. Without trees, we could tell that the tent would get VERY uncomfortable during the day. When we asked about Dollar Lake, the man indicated that we'd already passed it (as we had roughly figured). He also indicated that there were very few campsites between here and the pass. I took his words under advisement, but I figured he didn't quite know what would pass for a campsite in my book; we've tucked ourselves in some pretty tight and slanted places before. We continued onward up towards Gunsight Pass, carefully looking to find a treed area as close to the pass as possible. The largest concentration of trees was off to our left on a fairly steep slope, but after about 200 vertical feet, the land flattened into a bench before scree slopes took off for another 500 feet to the main rim of the basin at ~12,000 feet. Above and behind the rim stood Gilbert Peak at 13,442 feet. We soon came to an intersection with another trail (elevation 10,980') called the Basin Loop Trail (or something like that). This trail headed off to the right (west) into the middle of the Basin, while the Henry's Fork Trail continued on ahead to the south, hugging the eastern side of the basin. We were getting pretty tired at this point. For the day, we'd only covered about 5 miles and 1,200 feet of vertical, but the long drive from the previous day, the very heavy packs, and the multitude of stops to take care of Tyler had taken their toll both mentally and physically.

After a few more minutes of hiking, we were reaching the end of what looked to be that last section of trees along the trail. Tyler needed to be fed, so E found a nice rock and took care of him, while I went off the find a campsite. I left my heavy pack with E and Tyler, and headed east off the trail, up into the stand of trees that we'd seen. As far as level sites went, it was really slim pickings, although I did find a couple of nicely shaded options on the bench of land below the scree slopes. It was actually fun hiking without the big pack, and although I was exhausted, the freedom of movement lifted my spirits. It was great to just explore the area, and I got to see a couple of small yellowish orange creatures that monitored my progress. I initially thought they might be Marmots due to their size, but their coloring was so different they had to be something else. My guess is that they were Pine Martens, and this was the first time I'd ever seen them up close. Their presence certainly enhanced the feeling of wilderness, and the time I spent searching for a campsite was one of my favorite memories of the trip. I didn't have a chance to get pictures of them, but I borrowed an image from northwoodsminnesota.com that gives a good impression of what I saw. After I'd found the best potential sites, I made a mental note of their location and headed back to tell E. We put our packs back on, and headed up to the area where we could choose together. After walking around with no pack, it felt horrible to throw it back on, and the 100 feet of vertical we had to climb to get up to the site felt like a lot more.

When we'd finally chosen among the options, we dropped our packs and just wanted to collapse. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. The tent had to be set up, and mosquitoes were around so it meant that I would do it solo again. Then we needed to filter water, make dinner, eat, and clean up before we could slow down. "No rest for the weary", was certainly how it felt. The good news was that our tent was now pitched at an elevation of 11,135 feet, and we were only 750 feet below, and about 1.5 miles away from Gunsight Pass. This would definitely take the edge off our summit day. Dinner was pasta with tomatoes and cheese, which really hit the spot. Fortunately, Tyler had gone to sleep, which allowed E to help me with cleanup. The weather remained clear, and we got to watch the colors change in the basin and on the surrounding peaks as the sun went down. It was amazing to see the huge basin with the reddish rock all around as the last rays of sun lit them up. As many people have suggested, Kings is certainly in contention for one of the most beautiful state highpoints. By the time we'd cleaned up and hung the food, it was dark and time to sleep. That night, I had the most horrible sleep, or lack of it, that I could remember in a long time. I had a pounding headache, which combined with my exhaustion and anticipation of the summit hike the next day meant that I was awake much of the night. At that point all I could think of was why in the world I'd want to put myself through this ever again. There are times on every backpacking trip when I'll hit a low point, and that was probably exaggerated in this instance with so much extra work because of Tyler. I knew that I'd just have to suffer through the night and be ready for the next day's hike, hoping that the exhilaration of hiking to the summit of King's Peak would make it all worthwhile. E and Tyler didn't sleep all that well either, so I wasn't alone. For the night, the temperature in the tent went down to 44 degrees.


Saturday July 5th, 2003

We had planned to start our hike very early in the morning, but due to our need for rest, we didn't get going until around 8:30 A.M. Since I'd been tracking the forecast, and there was no call for any thunderstorms, a super early start didn't seem to be critical. It was funny, after all the talk of how common thunderstorms were on the peaks in the afternoons, we'd had nothing but day after day of virtually cloudless skies. Once we'd hiked a few minutes out to the trail, we put on sunblock and got underway towards Gunsight Pass. E was carrying Tyler at this point, and even though the carrier was stripped down to the essentials, it was still a 30 pound load. A substantial amount of our day-hiking supplies were also in a small pack that I carried, but the carrier and Ty himself were the bulk of the weight.

The trail first headed up to the pass at a moderate pitch, the most notable feature being the absolutely HUGE ditches caused by erosion along the trail. In places, the ditches were 4 or more feet deep, and easily as wide. I'm not sure how recently the erosion had taken place, or how long it had been going on, but it was serious. The common hiking route for most people now was along the high ground on the sides of the main areas of erosion, but smaller ditches were also present in these areas. I'm not sure if this is the type of erosion that trail crews try to repair, but it seems like there could be a lot of work to do.

After about 20 minutes of hiking, we reached a flatter area below Gunsight Pass (Elevation ~11,300') where a few people had set up tents. Although this seemed like a great location to start a hike to the summit, their only protection from the sun and wind were a few large boulders, which didn't quite seem to do the job. There was a small lake nearby that served as a water supply at least. This location is certainly another option for summit seekers that want to shorten the summit day and aren't concerned about having trees for protection.

At this point, the trail continued on for a few hundred yards at a nice flat angle, then we could see that it gained its full height by making switchbacks along the west side of the pass. There were several small snowfields that cut down through the switchbacks and required crossing, so the pack was handed off to me since I had a bit more confidence in my footing. This was a fun part of the hike as we navigated through each of the snowfields and chatted with other hikers. The most difficult part was guarding against post-holing in the snowfields. E went first and tested each snowfield crossing, and once she'd alerted me to the soft spots, I'd head across with Tyler. The snowfields were probably at an angle of 35 degrees or so, which meant that if one slipped, there was the potential for a dangerous slide into the rocks below without a quick self arrest. So, I was extra careful with my footing as I headed across. Overall though, climbing the switchbacks and crossing the snowfields was such fun that time flew by, and before we knew it, we had reached the top of Gunsight Pass (11,888 feet). It was certainly a milestone of the hike. We'd now gone a total of 9.6 miles and climbed almost 2500 vertical feet.

At the top of the pass, we could see for the first time into Painter Basin. It seemed larger than Henry's Fork Basin, and was generally devoid of trees in the upper few miles. It also appeared to have more swampy areas; it just didn't seem as inviting as Henry's Fork for camping. We were contemplating our next move when we noticed a couple groups of hikers heading off to the right along a mildly discernable path on the south slope of the peak forming the west side of the pass (13,103 feet; not sure of the name, but it may be informally called "West Gunsight Peak"). It was obvious that this was the contour shortcut route to the peak. We had certainly been interested in trying this route, but weren't sure how obvious the trail would be. Well, it was fairly obvious, and with plenty of other groups using the route, there would be no problem finding our way. We were happy to skip all the elevation loss that came with the route through Painter Basin.


The shortcut was actually not that difficult as far as trails go. There was a snowfield or two to cross, and a bit of bouldering, but nothing too hairy. There were even cairns in places to help you find the trail. Even with a 30-pound pack full of baby on my back, it was generally fine hiking. There was one difficult section where we gained some elevation and had to do a bit of scrambling. It wasn't bad on the way up, although I was a bit concerned about how it would be on the way down. Once we'd climbed up the steeper pitch, the slope eased and the trail became more difficult to follow. We couldn't see any of the other groups of hikers at this point, so we just generally hung to the right and gradually went upward, in the direction we thought would bring us closest to Anderson Pass. We were in a broad open area now, on the southern edge of the 13,103-foot "West Gunsight Peak". I don't have an exact altitude reading, but we were now at approximately 12,200 feet. The wind had begun to pick up substantially by this point, and it was a good 15-20 MPH. Tyler needed to be fed, so we found ourselves a modestly large rock (there were very few rocks around large enough to offer any protection from the wind) and took a break so everyone could have food. While we were eating, there was a distinct fruity smell emanating from our surroundings. I don't know exactly what it was, but perhaps it came from some of the moss, flowers, or other flora in the area. There was a lot of grass around, which gave the feeling of being in the Alpine Garden region of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. We saw a few other groups of hikers pass by, appearing to do the same sort of route finding as us. There didn't appear to be a specific route through this plateau, everyone just aimed themselves towards the (presumed) direction of Anderson Pass.

After taking a break and eating, we continued on our way toward Anderson Pass. We started wrapping around more towards the north, heading into the valley between Kings Peak and "West Gunsight Peak". We could now see Kings Peak, probably only about a mile away to the west as the crow flies. Unfortunately, the closer we got to Anderson Pass, the more the wind picked up. Although it was only about 30-40 MPH, not a really big deal for an adult, this was too much for Tyler. He was crying and couldn't get comfortable. We sat down for a while so he could have some milk, and I tied our windbreakers around his pack to block the wind. With the wind protection in place, we managed to get Tyler to sleep, and headed on our way again after about 20 minutes of delay. Still, the wind was strong enough that E, who had the pack at the time, was almost getting blown over herself due to the sail effect of the windbreakers. We continued on our way toward Anderson Pass for a few more minutes, hoping that the wind would die down by chance, but it didn't. The gusts continued and finally E broached the idea of turning around. It seemed absolutely ludicrous to come all this way and turn around with only a mile or so to the summit, but we had no idea if the wind was even worse up at the pass and on the ridge heading to the peak. We stood around for a couple of minutes debating the idea. I really wanted to continue on, but the thought of torturing Tyler in the wind for my own goal of reaching the peak wasn't right. I don't think E had such a debate going on, she knew full well that Tyler came first.

Turning around was pretty much inevitable at this point, but we decided to take one more shot at getting to the summit by heading to the middle of the valley and checking on the winds there. If they were reduced, we might try to head up to Anderson Pass. If not, the plan was to make the best of the day by catching the Highline trail and heading back to Gunsight Pass via the standard route through Painter Basin. At least it would give us the chance to see what we'd missed by taking the contour shortcut. The wind didn't diminish at the Highline trail, so we had to say goodbye to the summit for the time being. We headed down in the direction of Painter Basin and the winds gradually subsided. We met a mother and teenage son from the Salt Lake City area, hiking to the summit by the standard route. We told them about the shortcut route, and they said it was probably a good idea because the route they had taken through Painter Basin was LONG. Tyler was asleep, and they never even noticed him back there until he came up in conversation. Many people we passed never seemed to notice him, figuring the load on our back was just another big frame pack. The mother and son offered to take a picture of the three of us, and we obliged. At one point the son asked me how far it was to the summit, and I pointed right up to it since it was in view. He seemed very excited now that he could actually see Kings Peak. They still had a few miles to go, but it must have been nice to see their destination. We wished them good hiking, and continued on our way. E was carrying Tyler at this point, and while taking a downward step, she rolled her ankle on a loose rock. We weren't sure how serious it was, but we decided I should take Tyler regardless. It would be easier to walk it off without the extra 30 pounds on her back. Fortunately, it didn't seem to be too serious and it gradually loosened up as she continued to walk without the pack. She would still feel it the next day however. We next met a couple of guys who were coming back down from the summit, sort of eschewing any trail and just dropping straight into Painter Basin. When we spoke with one, he mentioned that the winds did subside once one got past Anderson Pass. This was nice to know, but we wouldn't have been able to make it to Anderson Pass anyway with that wind.

As we continued down into Painter Basin, we could gradually see Gunsight Pass coming into view. We were now in the broad flat expanse of Painter Basin, and our next goal was to find the intersection where we could rejoin the Henry's Fork Basin trail and head back over the pass. On the map it seemed simple enough, but the trail was actually difficult to follow. Aside from a few cairns, there wasn't much indication of where to go. After watching ourselves get further and further from Gunsight Pass, we finally came to a large cairn and what appeared to be an intersection of two trails. The problem was that none of the trails seemed to head toward Gunsight Pass. After searching around for a few minutes, we decided to stop wasting our time and head straight to Gunsight Pass, regardless of the trail. This basin was absolutely treeless, and getting to the pass was obvious. The most difficult obstacles we encountered were some marshy areas, but aiming for the relatively high ground got us around them with only a bit of extra effort.

When we'd looked down from the pass earlier in the day, it seemed that the slope up from Painter Basin was both shorter, and more gradual than the one up from Henry's Fork Basin. Well, now that we were hiking up it, the slope seemed anything but short (although the trail does seem a bit more gradual than the Henry's Fork Basin side). My energy level had been crashing since we'd started back up the pass, and I was questioning whether I could make it all the way up without a break. I picked points along the trail as goals of where to stop, and finally, after what seemed like 3/4 of the pass, I asked E if she could carry Tyler the rest of the way. I say 3/4 of the way up, but it's really hard to gauge how far it was, it just felt like an eternity. E took over though, her ankle feeling better, and after what felt like another eternity, we made the top of the pass. From here it was just a mile or so downhill to get to our campsite. I was relieved, the trip up the pass had been another low point; marching through the hot sun all day, at times with the extra 30-pound pack, had taken its toll on my energy reserves.

E continued carrying Tyler as we descended, and I went slightly ahead to probe the snowfields for holes as we crossed. The snow was much softer than it had been on our way up, but the hike down went smoothly. Even though the hiking below the pass was basically a mellow slope back down to our tent, it couldn't go quickly enough for me. I was ready for a long nap to recharge, and then a big fat dinner.

Once at the tent I was out like a light, and boy did I need the sleep. Luckily, even E got to take a 20-minute nap while Tyler somehow kept himself amused. When E woke up, she played with Tyler for a bit, then he went down for a nap. This gave E a chance to go down to the stream and filter some water, although unfortunately, the filter was becoming clogged and the process went very slowly. Tyler and I eventually woke up, E filled me in on the filter situation, and I cleaned up the filter and went down to finish replenishing our water supply. Although the mosquitoes were horrendous as I sat by the stream and filled the water bottles, I got to watch an amazing sunset over the edge of the basin. The slow changing of the light among the reddish peaks in almost absolute silence was exactly the type of scenery that you pay for with all the effort of a backcountry trip, and I went and stood atop one of the lone boulders in the bottom of the basin to take it in. Unfortunately I couldn't linger since we had food to cook, and the light was fading.

It was now 7:00 P.M., and since we'd hiked so hard during the day, there had been no time for our planned lunch; we were famished. With our ravenous appetites, we decided to first cook our lunch meal, then cook our dinner meal if we were still hungry. The lunch meal was a delicious combination of pasta with Parmesan cheese and pine nuts, and it went down very quickly. We then moved on to dinner, which was a combination of soup and rice. However, since both the soup and the rice had their own seasonings, the mixture came out very salty. We also managed to leave it simmering too long and it started to get a little burnt. Despite the extra flavor, it felt like a meal fit for a king and we still managed to put down a good portion. Our experience thus far with animals in the basin had us forego the protocol of eating outside the tent, and we happily feasted inside out of the bugs. The leftovers were stored in the bear bag overnight, although Erica pointed out that the remnant odor of the soup in our tent was incredibly strong. I wouldn't be surprised if every animal in the basin knew what we'd eaten. I took an Alieve, made sure I had a multivitamin, and slept really well. In fact, E slept well and so did Tyler, who seemed to have adjusted to the camping by the way he could go much longer between feedings. That night was certainly the warmest we'd experienced on the trip, with temperatures only dropping to 50 degrees in the tent


Sunday July 6th, 2003

Although we still had an extra day if we needed it, and could take two days to get back to the trailhead, there was no question that we wanted to get out TODAY if at all possible. The thought of spending an extra day of setting up the tent, preparing food, breaking down the tent etc., all while we were only a couple of miles from the trailhead seemed senseless. We set our goal of hiking the entire 8 miles to the car, and heading to Ogden to stay in a hotel for the night. Normally this wouldn't be such a lofty goal, but we had no idea what Tyler was going to do. If things weren't going well and we had to stop a lot, it could be a long day. E and Tyler stayed in the tent and took care of things there, while I packed up the rest of the gear. We were getting pretty efficient at breaking camp, but it still took an hour with only one person working at a time. We saved time on breakfast by just eating some energy bars, and we were on our way by 8:10 A.M. We cruised out quickly with fresh legs and a bit of downhill slope. We soon met up with another hiker that informed us we had flushed out some elk in our passing, setting them off towards the middle of the basin. We were disappointed that we didn't get to see them however. So far, Tyler was very happy, and then he fell asleep. This was good, and we put the pedal to the metal to take advantage of his slumbering. We took the lower route across the marshy area this time, which was a bit less direct, but would hopefully minimize our contributions to erosion in the area. As we passed the last section of the upper meadow, we got to watch a moose and calf off in the distance. They kept well away from the hikers, but seemed to be quite tolerant of all the people.

Before long, we had reached the bridge across Henry's Fork. It was still well before noon, and our hopes of getting to the trailhead were high. We both crossed the bridge with packs this time, much more comfortable and steady under the heavy loads. Tyler was awake, so we decided to take a quick break and feed him. We had a snack ourselves, and chatted with some women who were also on the way out. Although we were among the trees, the sun was getting really high so we applied some sunblock before heading on our way. The hike continued smoothly until around noon, at which point Tyler was getting restless and we had to make a stop. We were now only a mile or so from the trailhead, but there was just no way we could put Tyler through the torture of going on without a break. E fed him, and I went down to the river to filter some water for what would hopefully be the last leg of the trip. We got going again, and things were OK at first. But as we were in the last mile, Tyler started crying, and couldn't be consoled. We decided to tough it out and get him to the car. The last 10 minutes, which seemed like an eternity, were really tough for him. He was wailing, almost as if he knew we were close to the end! Finally, we reached saw the signs of the trailhead, and we realized that we'd reached our goal for the day!

It was getting quite hot in the sunlight at this point, so E headed over to put her feet in the stream with Tyler, while I packed up the car. It was a huge relief to be at the end of our trip, and all I could think about was eating a pizza and maybe going for a swim. There's nothing that makes me appreciate little things like that more than a few days in the wilderness. We drove out, got some drinks at the gas station in Mountain View, WY, and headed on to Ogden, UT (~2.5 hours from the trailhead). We saw a sign for Days Inn, which supposedly had the largest indoor pool in Ogden, and it didn't take much to convince us to stop. Especially since we were now under the blazing sun of the Salt Lake Valley, and temperatures were well into the 90s. Sometimes I wonder how people can survive the summers in conditions like that. Day after day of cloudless skies and hot dry weather must make it a tough time.

Although I tell E to bring a bathing suit on every trip we take, regardless of whether she thinks she'll need it or not, she didn't bring one this time. In addition, we didn't own anything for Tyler to wear in the pool, so we headed off to Wal-Mart for some swim attire. E found an inexpensive swimsuit, and we got Tyler some baby swimpants, which substitute for diapers. I found a cool local pizza place called "The Pie Pizzeria" and we stopped in for an enjoyable dinner in pleasant surroundings. They even had Linguica sausage as a topping, which surprised me immensely. Generally it is popular in Massachusetts, and it seemed so exotic to find it in the middle of Utah. That evening we went for a swim in the pool, which was a first for Tyler. The water was a bit cool, so after a little while, we filled up the bathtub with some warmer water for him to finish off his swim. We watched a little TV, and then settled down for a nice sleep in the bed. Oh how good the comforts of civilization felt!


Monday, July 7th, 2003

We had breakfast at the hotel, and then we were on our way. The blazing Utah sun was already heating things up and I was grateful that we were heading north to cooler climes. We stopped at a rest area just over the Idaho border for a break, and it was still extremely hot. The grass was burned to a crisp, but there were these interesting bugs that jumped up and fluttered about wherever you walked. We stopped again in Pocatello for lunch, and then it was on to Montana and the Bitterroot Valley. Montana was a welcomed relief, there were actually some clouds in the sky that provided a bit of shade, and the temperatures in the 70s felt wonderful.

Overall it was an amazing trip, and I agree that Kings Peak has got to be one of the most beautiful state highpoints out there. Although we didn't get to hit the summit, E pointed out that it means we get to go and try again. That trip probably won't be for a while though, since Tyler is only getting heavier at this point. We'll probably just have to wait until he can pull his own weight, at which point he'll probably get to enjoy the trip himself more. I'm also excited to have someone else to share in some of the camping chores. ;)


Below is a map showing the status of our highpoint hiking as of the Utah trip in July of 2003. The states shown in red are highpoints we have completed, yellow indicates highpoints we have attempted but not completed. Click on the map to go to our highpoints page.