Past Featured Trip Reports

Death Valley is well known as having the lowest point in North America in Badwater Basin at nearly 300 feet below sea level. Much less well-known are the impressive Panamint Mountains that rise abruptly from Badwater's western margin. Although the Panamint range isn't at the top of every peak-bagger's list, it probably should be as they are noteworthy for many things.

At 11,049 feet above sea level, Telescope Peak is the highest point in the Panamints as well as the entire Death Valley National Park. Telescope's height and geographic position provide a very unique opportunity to gaze down on the lowest point in North America (Badwater) and then turn 180 degrees and look up to the highest point in the contiguous U.S. at Mt. Whitney (14,505 feet) topping the distant Sierras.

Winter has finally made a real appearance in Colorado and with that the avalanche danger has skyrocketed. The name of the game now is ridge routes. The original plan for the weekend was to do Uncompahgre as a backpack, but the forecast was looking pretty bad for Sun. Kevin suggested Redcloud and Sunshine on Sat, since the forecast looked a lot better. The winter route is via Sunshine’s east ridge from Cinnamon Pass road and the route is relentlessly steep. The route to treeline is south facing, and we were hoping the wallowing wouldn’t be too sustained. With a strong team of 6, we should be able to share the trench work nicely!

I could see the wheels turning in Pete’s head as I asked him if he would join me.

“Let’s talk later.” he eventually said, and went back upstairs to work in the climbing department of Mountain Chalet. We didn’t have time to talk about it at the moment, the store was busy with skiers, runners, and casual shoppers.

A few hours later Pete brought a map of Mt. Rainier and began to lay out a plan to climb Liberty Ridge in a day.

With a forecast for bluebird skies and stable snow, the North Cascades seemed to be the place to go. After tossing around a variety of ideas and spending way too much time pouring over trip reports and topos and forecasts, Sourdough Mountain with Brian and Paul eventually moved to the top of the list. It's hard to imagine having chosen a more beautiful place to spend a sunny winter Saturday.

We had been planning to climb Mount Washington in the winter for a while knowing it was a large under taking. One thing we do know is our limitations so we signed up with North East Mountaineering to guide us through the climb. Going with a guide is a decision that everyone with out a lot of mountaineering experience should do. Mount Washington is one of the most dangerous small mountains in the world. The mountain is known as the “home of the world’s worst weather.” It get’s this reputation because of the combination of extreme cold, wet weather, high winds, icing conditions and low visibility consistently found atop Mount Washington. Despite it relatively low elevation Mount Washington is located at the confluence of three major storm tracks. Being the highest point in New England, means it generally takes the brunt of passing storms. Add to that the steepness of the slopes, combined with the north/south orientation of the range, causes the winds to accelerate dramatically as they rise up from the valleys. This is not a mountain to be taken lightly.

One of my hiking pals, Johnny Corn, had received beta from another hiker concerning seven largely unknown waterfalls at the border of Table Rock State Park and Jocassee Gorge. The information was definite (from a veteran waterfall wanderer/discoverer named Bernie) and we would be assured of finding some spectacular new waterfalls.

So we gathered a crew of worthy folk who are accustomed to bushhwacking in the southern Appalachians. This kind of hiking isn't easy. The slopes off trail are achingly steep, generally very slick, and the mazes of mountain laurel and rhododendron are almost sure to rip the pack from your back at every opportunity. And so it was that Andy Kunkle, Jack Thyen, Johnny Corn, Brenda Wiley and I all signed up for the tough ten-mile hike. (The hike ended up coming in at 9.9 miles.)

I’ve climbed Mt. Washington several times in the summer and fall, and each time the weather has been nearly perfect. Although I’ve wanted to climb it in winter for a couple years, I’d never pulled the trigger. That trigger came when Vinovampire (Thomas) posted on the Backpacker dot com forums that he was in a contest where the winner got a Sno-cat ride to the summit and got to stay the night at the observatory. Long story short, he didn’t win contest, so I told him I’d gather some hikers together and we’d “guide” him up. Many signed up and bailed for the typical reasons, but we ended up with a strong group consisting of Spindle, Nartreb, and myself (and of course Thomas).

The plan was to leave the trailhead at noon on Friday, and hike to the Harvard Cabin (except Nartreb, who would hike in later in the evening). If we had time, we’d check out Tuckerman’s or Huntington Ravine. The next day, we’d summit via Lion’s Head and descend back to the cabin. The following morning we’d hike out and drive back home. Surely far from an aggressive schedule, but with 15-16 hours of round-trip driving necessary, we didn’t feel like rushing our time on the mountain.

While the Caribbean is usually thought of being full of cruise ship passengers and other run of the mill tourists, it does have a wild side. Luckily, the stereotypical luxury cruise ship tourists tend to gather at the casinos and shopping centers, rarely venturing more than a few miles from port.

Yet in the Caribbean, beyond the casinos and shopping centers lies a lost world of spectacular waterfalls, virgin rainforest, beautiful mountains, hidden beaches, rugged coastlines and hidden ruins. This is the story of a trip to two Caribbean Islands (Puerto Rico and Dominica) that I took with my seven year old daughter Shaylee (we needed some Daddy-daughter time) between December 20 2011 and January 6 2012. On this trip we climbed several steep and spectacular mountains, taking on some of the Caribbean’s toughest hikes and ascents (especially on Dominica); swam, climbed and rappelled through subterranean gorges, explored dark rainforest and yes, we even did a lot of tourist stuff too.

The winter of shorter than usual approaches to 14ers continues, although the window is beginning to close up. This weekend was a perfect opportunity to hit Belford and Oxford while the summer trailhead was still accessible. Did we cheat and poach the road? You take what you can get in winter, and so far this winter has been very unusual. The avy danger was high in most parts of the state for the weekend, but the standard route on these 14ers is usually pretty safe. Caroline and Shawn were up to the task, and it would be my first time to hike with them. We decided to pack in leisurely on Saturday, but this hike can still be reasonably done as a dayhike. We were able to carefully drive all the way to the summer trailhead in Caroline's XTerra, although the next big storm may change that.

We didn’t get going Sat until about 3:30pm, but the approach to the cabin at treeline is less than 2 miles, and we knew there would most likely be a track in place most of the way. A lone hiker came down and told us we wouldn’ t need snowshoes, so we ditched them about 10 minutes into the hike! We were surprised at how little snow there was on a north facing aspect in late January. As expected, we had a track all the way to treeline. We setup camp just before it got dark right next to the cabin and rushed through our chores with the short amount of time we had. Not much in the way of firewood here, but we collected enough for a little one. We enjoyed the luxuries of Shawn’s nice 4 season tent, which is a lot warmer than my little summer one man that I usually bring on bluebird winter weekends!

On September 23rd Bob Boyles, me, and Kevin Hansen made the bumpy ride to the end of the West Fork road and set up camp with the intention of putting up a Direct Route from the lake to the summit on the following day. The weather that weekend was perfect for a serious shot at the face. Bob kept the monotony in camp to a minimum with his tales of Lost River Range epics.

Bob and I stayed up till well after midnight swapping stories and swilling beverages. In the morning we sorted gear and then re-sorted as soon as we tried to stuff it all in our packs.