Part Forty Seven

     September 1st - 3rd                 Wind Rivers, WY                       (Go to Pt 1)

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​September 1st 
The next morning brought more brilliant, autumn weather which encouraged dilly-dallying around camp as we enjoyed the warm sunshine and quiet peacefulness of the lake.  The ground willow and underbrush surrounding the lake were popping with reds, yellows and oranges and the sky above was infinitely clear.
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Click in the map for a larger image

Click on photo for a larger image

Our day started with an easy hike down to Union Pass then a short bushwhack to find a two-track leading up Union Peak. I was finally getting my pack adjusted and riding better but the 1,000 foot elevation gain up the ridge reminded me that the packs were still too heavy. At a saddle below the top of Union Peak we descend through open tundra down to Flat Lake then continued a ways further down to Horseshoe Lake.

Craig on Tundra

​At Horseshoe Lake we were surprised to see a tent and then a couple fishing along the lakeshore, who turned out to be newlyweds on their honeymoon. I figured either the chick really loved fly fishing or the dude had no money for a honeymoon but either way they were chatty and happy and Craig and I welcomed the excuse to drop our packs and listen to them yak for a while. ​​

Horseshoe Lake

We ate an early lunch at the lake with the newlyweds then continued on up into a small, open valley, along a wandering stream, lined with ground willow that was on fire with autumn color.  We hiked past the black-blue waters of Deep Lake and on up to Granite Lake where we made camp late in the afternoon.

​We had covered a fair amount of ground during the day, including a good chunk of elevation gain and descent, and the only thing that had been off throughout the day was Craig dropping off the pace, starting with the descent from Union Peak.  That was unsettling because all that descent involved was coming down easy tundra, which was go-mode terrain for us.  

Granite Lake

Then I flashed back to Lava Mountain; that was the last time we had descended anything of significance, and there, too, Craig had struggled to get down. So… what was the deal, was Craig handicapped in some way?  I didn’t even want to think about the implications of that, and maybe I was making something out of nothing, so I chose to ignore it.

September 2
The next morning was sunny on the east side of the Divide but we were on the shady side with a biting wind that made packing our gear nippy cold; I’d sort of forgotten what it was like to stand around freezing my ass off while trying to warm-up numb fingertips.  We had been traveling off trail since Union Peak and Granite Lake definitively marked the end of casual, cross-country hiking; it was going to be all rock and boulders from here.

Boulder Climb from Granite Lk

As we worked our way up the steep, boulder impacted slope above Granite Lake, we got into a wind break where it was calm, warm and sunny but climbing through the steep boulderfield was tedious work and took a lot of energy.  Then, as we slowly rolled over the top of the boulder slope to Divide Lake, the wind returned with rising, constant harassment.   ​

Craig Silouette on Boulders

From Divide Lake we had to climb another long, steep boulderfield that brought us out onto a small, rolling plateau of tundra then up through more boulders to the north ridge of Three Waters Mountain and the top of the Continental Divide.  
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Climbing this mountain of boulders with the pack loads we were carrying, all above 11,000ft, was a full day of hiking in less than a mile, and we still had miles of this terrain to go.  And then there was the wind.

The wind had been blowing steadily since topping-out over the boulderfield at Divide Lake, but as we crested over the top of the ridge on Three Rivers Mountain from the east, we got blasted by a gale of wind out of the west that had us staggering to stay upright.  
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The roar of the wind made communication impossible but there was little to discuss anyway since, from here, there wasn’t much choice but to turn south along the ridge and begin climbing our way up through more boulders to the summit, only now with powerful gusts of wind shoving us around and threatening us with a body-slam into the rocks.  

At the top of Three Rivers Mountain the boulders gave way to stretches of tundra, making our progress easier as we traversed the 3 miles of ridgeline, but the wind continued to howl, hammering us for hours, until the noise and constant shoving became unnerving.  

Three Rivers Ridge

Late in the afternoon, as we were traversing the last mile of ridgeline, the wind finally laid down, which came as a great relief to my rattled nerves, and by the time we reached our remote camp at Lake 11,750 is was dead calm.  ​

Lake 11,750

The small lake sat in a granite basin where there wasn’t but hardly one spot to set a tent that wasn’t on granite. We dropped our packs and scouted around until we found that ideal patch of tundra and set about unloading our packs, pitching the tent and assembling cook gear and food for the evening meal.  The late afternoon sun, with no wind, was warm and we sat on the rocks by our tent, cooking supper and watching another spectacular sunset.
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Click on the map for a larger image

September 3
After the sun disappeared, the temperature dropped like a stone and in the morning there was solid ice in the cookpot we had filled the night before.  Our camp was shaded by the ridge of the Continental Divide, blocking out the warm, morning sun and making for another cold start, but it was a small price to pay for yesterday’s basking afternoon and stellar sunset.

Craig below Centenial

From our camp at the lake, we climbed for over a mile across rocky terrain to reach the Continental Glacier at 12,000ft. At the glacier we stopped to don our crampons and eat granola bars before continuing another two miles up the glacier to the north rib of Downs Mountain at 13,000ft.

Craig on Continental Glacier

By the time we reached the backside of Downs Mountain I was tired and the wind was starting to come back into play with gusts that were suddenly knocking us around.  We left the crisp, frozen neve of the glacier, repacked our crampons and started the arduous boulder climb up the north side of Downs Mountain.
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When we finally crested over the top of Downs Mountain at 13,200ft, the view looking south into the heart of the range was staggering, both in its grandeur and daunting terrain.  However, the icy wind ripping over the top made stopping to admire the view impossible and we moved quickly across the summit to the steep, southside descent, which was another difficult mile of boulder navigation with the wind again trying to topple us over.

Downs Mtn

Craig fell further and further behind on the descent and I briefly waited a couple of times but the winds were too cold for waiting long and I came out onto the rocky plateau above Downs Glacier well ahead of him.  On the plateau I scouted for a spot to set our camp that would be wind protected and, hopefully, on tundra but by the time Craig had reached me I had found neither.  
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Together, we dashed about the plateau looking for something, anything, that would offer us a measure of protection from the wind but there wasn’t a wind block to be found.  In addition, there wasn't a decent patch of tundra to be found either, so this meant we were going to have to set-up our 17-stake tent on rocky rocks in 40mph winds.  We ended up using stakes, rocks and guy-line in a variety of creative ways to get the tent erected and braced against the wind, but it didn’t happen quickly.

Camp Site on Downs

Finally inside the tent and out of the wind, we set about getting the stove lit in the cramped quarters while the wind battered our tent with the machinegun rat-tat-tat of snapping nylon, drowning out any shot at conversation.  It was going to be a rough night.
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September 4
The wind calmed down sometime during the dark hours and I was able to get some sleep but by morning it was back again, racing across the plateau. Temperatures were below freezing and with the wind I didn’t even want to get out of the tent to take a leak, let alone try and pack-up and move camp.

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Go to Part 48

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The CDTC was founded in 2012 by volunteers and recreationists hoping to provide a unified voice for the CDT. Working hand-in-hand with the U.S. Forest Service and other federal land management agencies, the CDTC is a non-profit partner supporting stewardship of the CDT. The mission of the CDTC is to complete, promote and protect the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail, a world-class national resource. For more information, please visit continentaldividetrail.org.

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