Roof of Idaho - Chicken Out Ridge

I’d been monitoring the north aspect of the peak using the US 93 Willow Creek summit webcam for the past several weeks, and it appeared that almost all of the snow had melted, with only a small sliver still visible below Chicken-Out Ridge. Sometimes in July there is still enough snow up there to make this a full-on mountaineering endeavor, but with this year’s mild winter in this section of the Rockies I figured we wouldn’t have any problems.

The Stairmaster

We left Mackay at 6 am and arrived at the trailhead around 6:30. On the way we were treated to some nice views of some other peaks to the south. The terrain in this part of Idaho is mainly dry, making it feel like you’re in one of those old Marlboro Country commercials.

From the trailhead you can see the top of the mountain, and we could immediately tell that this was going to be a steep hike. We started up at a decent pace, and soon caught up to and passed a group who were pausing to catch their breath at one of the few flatter sections of trail. The trail was very well-maintained and easy to follow, and would remain this way almost the entire way to the top.

Behind us the sunlight was illuminating some other impressive peaks to the west, some of which looked like they’d also be a lot of fun to climb (i.e. Hyndman Peak in the Pioneer Mountains and Castle Peak in the White Cloud Mountains). When climbing Thompson Peak two years ago I was impressed with how rugged the mountains of Central Idaho were, and this day would impress me even more. You don’t hear much about them since the area is still relatively undeveloped, but if you do your research then you’ll find that Idaho has just as many fun scrambles and rugged terrain as any of the other western states.

Anyways, I’m glad the views were nice because they helped draw my attention away from how steep the trail was. It was in good enough condition that there were never any points where the dirt got too slippery, but the grade was steep and unrelenting. I was in better shape this summer than I’d been in a while, but since it was relatively early in the hiking season I still had to pause occasionally to catch my breath. Despite logging a couple hundred miles’ worth of mountain hiking in these boots, I could already feel blisters forming on the backs of my heels, so that slowed me down a bit too.

David provided the occasional elevation update using an app on his phone, and we were gaining elevation at a fast rate. After an hour and a half we were above the tree line with some nice views of Mount Morrison to the south, Mount Idaho to the southeast, and of course Borah Peak to the east, when we finally came to a flatter section of trail. We had gained 2,700 feet of elevation in less than two miles, and could now see the more rugged part of the hike awaiting us.

 

Starting up the ridge, there was still a trail that was easy to follow. We zig-zagged our way up some scree-covered ledges and ended up slightly on the right (south) side of the ridge. Since it was still early in the morning and the ridge above us was steep, this gave us some extra time in the shade, which was nice. As the scree went away we came across larger sections of solid rock, where we decided to scramble straight along the crest of the ridge.

After some fun scrambling right on top of the ridge, we dropped slightly to the left (north) side of the ridge, climbing up a little gully. From here we had a closer view of the summit, as well as the spot where there was usually a tricky snow crossing. This year must have been particularly dry, because the snow right on top of the ridge had melted away (there was still some snow lower down on the northern slope, but not anywhere that we would need to cross).

My feet were slowing me down a bit, so for better long-term results I decided to stop and attend to the blisters on my heels. They had both opened up causing chafing on the raw, red skin underneath (each about an inch in diameter), but luckily I had a couple big band-aids left to patch them up. It’s frustrating that I still get blisters like this, but I guess that’s what you get with freakishly sweaty feet.

We proceeded up the little gully and soon arrived back on top of the ridge. The other guy hiking by us said when there was no snow at the crossing that it was easier to go around the left side instead of doing the down-climb onto where the snow usually was, but I was actually looking forward to the little down climb crux and didn’t think it would be too difficult. After leaving one of my Gatorade bottles hidden in a rock alcove just above the down climb for the return trip, David and I quickly climbed down to the crossing without any difficulty. This was the last of the scrambling we would encounter on our way to the top, and I thought it was just plain fun. It probably gets overhyped by state highpoint hikers who’ve never done any scrambling before, but with a little route-finding you can stay on easier class 3 terrain the entire way up and down Chicken-Out Ridge.

At this point the trail cuts to the left of the ridge, closely following the 11,800-foot contour line below the little un-named peak/ridge above. Once we got past that little un-named peak, we were presented with what I felt were the best views of the entire day. To the south of us was the impressive northwest ridge of Sacagawea Peak, with its northern cliffs falling almost 2,000 feet straight down. While from this angle the ridge looked quite solid, the rock is actually supposed to be quite loose, so I was content to just admire it from a distance.

Going up the last steep part is when the elevation started to hit me. My blisters weren’t an issue anymore, but despite summiting Box Elder Peak (a Wasatch 11er) a few weeks prior I wasn’t completely acclimated. It had actually been over three years since I’d been above 12,000 feet, so it was nice to finally be among such high, rugged surroundings again. David and the other guy hiking by us made it to the summit a few minutes before me, leading the way up the faint trail through some loose talus and scree.






Just below the summit the view towards the northeast opened up (with Mountaineer Peak visible), and then on top the view opened up for over a hundred miles in every direction, letting us admire the impressive mountain terrain of Central Idaho.

Down to the east were several un-named lakes which looked like they’d be nice to visit, although I’m not sure how difficult the approach would be from the seldom-visited east side of the Lost River Range. Over 2,000 feet below us was one lake that looked particularly inviting.

Since we’d made it to the top faster than we’d originally anticipated (4 hours), we took a nice half hour early lunch break on the summit. Among the summit paraphernalia were an American flag and a rubber chicken, which might make for some good summit photos for those so inclined to use them. A friendly little ground squirrel decided to investigate, likely looking for food, but he bolted off when I tried to get close for a better picture.

Easy Enough For a Scout Troop

On the way down we saw more people making their way up, totaling just over 20 by the time we made it back down to the car. During the initial descent we passed a couple girls who were actually hiking with the guy who’d been on the summit with us, whom I guess he had decided to leave in the dust and just wait for on top. This section of the trail crossed enough loose rock that I actually had to step carefully so as not to knock any rocks onto them below, but about halfway down this steep part the grade lessened. At the flat section with the awesome views of Sacagawea, I spent a few minutes photographing some resilient wildflowers. It always amazes me the places that they can grow, where there is otherwise no discernible plant life.

Making our way around to what is usually a snow crossover point we ran into some more people, among them a group of local scouts, who were probably around 14 years old. We had to wait for their two leaders to help the last one in the group get past the down climb crux, but eventually he made it. We lent some words of encouragement, letting them know that the hardest part was over, which seemed to brighten the mood of a couple of the boys who may have been struggling. My hat’s off to them though, since they were doing a hike that’s probably more difficult than any of the ones I’d done at that age. Some dark clouds were forming behind Borah to the east, but since the scout leaders appeared to know what they were doing and they weren’t really thunderclouds, I didn’t feel the need to warn them about any impending storms.

We climbed back up onto Chicken-Out Ridge, I collected the bottle of Gatordate I’d left behind, and we then proceeded to scramble our way back down the mountain. We passed an older man who must have been the only one we’d seen who actually chickened out, but since he was hiking alone I could see why he might not want to risk it. No shame in turning around when things don’t feel safe. I imagine that in more snowy conditions, others (myself included) might’ve been more inclined to turn back at some point, as the ridge is quite steep.







With completely dry conditions though, we didn’t have any trouble descending. For fun, we went across one little section with some more difficult scrambling. The ridge loses elevation quickly though, so before we knew it the fun part was already over. The views we encountered the rest of the way down the mountain were nice at least, and the temperature was still cool enough that it didn’t feel too hot. We’d actually lucked out to have clouds over us for part of the hike, so I’m sure the conditions helped make the hike a little easier as well.

My legs didn’t really start feeling tired until close to the bottom. The trail through the trees is steep enough in several places that it actually took more work for slower steps, so in a few spots we did a little semi-jog down. Close to the bottom we met our last fellow hiker of the day, who after having us take her picture asked if we’d gotten to the point on the mountain where the parasailers jump off. It was funny hearing her say it since this sweet little old lady was the last person I’d suspect of being into something like parasailing, but I guess you never know. After a short stop at the trailhead toilets, we were on the road heading back down to Utah.


Borah Peak was an awesome hike that I would recommend to anyone looking for a good hiking adventure. While there is some exposure on parts of Chicken-Out Ridge, if you’re with someone to help you stay on the class 3 stuff then I think it’s doable even for someone new to scrambling, as long as there isn’t any snow besides what’s usually there at the crossover point. The views near the summit are top-notch too, and were more rugged than I was expecting. Another bonus is that the hike is short and steep, so you gain and lose elevation quite quickly, although it may help to have trekking poles for the descent if you’ve got bad knees.

Borah Peak Stats

DISTANCE: 7.5 miles roundtrip
BORAH PEAK TRAILHEAD: 7,400 feet
SUMMIT ELEVATION: 12,662 feet
ELEVATION GAIN: 5,300 feet
DIFFICULTY: Class 3
TIME: 7 hours