2015 Road Trip: Part 14 (Humphrey's)

Humphrey's Peak, AZ
Day 23
5.6.15

Ever since arriving in Flagstaff, I've had a straight shot view to Humphrey's Peak, the highest point in Arizona, from where Noah lives. This mountain has been calling to me every time I look at it.  The elevation is 12,633 feet above sea level, though Flagstaff is at 7000, so it's not a terribly large climb, but still substantial.

On the trip back from the Grand Canyon, I saw the north side of the massif, covered in snow from the storm a few weeks ago, and something about this is utterly irresistible for me.  I told Noah that I have to do this peak while I am in town.  There was one holdup, which was that Noah didn't have snowshoes.  We decided to solve this by going to some used gear shops in Flagstaff.  We proved successful, and he got a pair at a good price (for snowshoes at least), and we considered ourselves equipped.  We both now had snowshoes, I had microspikes, and Noah was borrowing a pair of Yaktrax.

Neither of us had been to an elevation this high before, so we were expecting breathing to more difficult as a result of lower air pressure at elevation.  I was very excited to try such an experience, as well as to see the highest point in the state.

I think since the photo story is posted on facebook, I will instead go over a few things that we learned while on the hike.  First of all, this was more than what I would consider a hike.  The first few miles of trail were reminiscent of a Maine or Vermont trail, with dark mud, fallen leaves, and many rocks and roots to trip over.  However, as we got further in, we found scree fields, which were pretty steep my eastern hiking standards. We were also dealing with the fact that it was still mostly snow covered on the mountain, and the trail was only visible via the footsteps of over hikers.

While following a path of footsteps, we ended up missing a crucial switchback that headed up the slope to the right, and we continued to follow some footsteps straight, which led up to a scree field.  This was the first one, and soon enough we ended up a the large ravine that you likely saw on facebook.

We installed our snowshoes here, since they were not necessary for the first half of the trail.  At this point, we were certain we were not on the trail, since I had studied the topo maps during the week prior just to get a sense of the massif and where the trails were supposed to be.  Having climbed a bit more than Noah in the winter, I think this is an extremely important part of winter climbing - to research a lot before you actually head out.  Trails are often obscured by drifting snow, and all you have is footsteps, your navigation equipment (GPS or map/compass), and your knowledge to get you where you need to go.

I knew that the San Francisco Peaks formed a horseshoe shape, not much different from that of the Katahdin massif in Baxter State Park. We were hiking up the west side, and then walking north along the ridge to the summit.  By not turning on the switchback that we were supposed to, we were crawling further north than we should have, but we thought it would be smartest, and most simple to go up the ravine and then from the ridge, we could view where exactly we needed to proceed.

Avalanche danger is something that neither of us really know much about, and it was very lucky of us to see a skier who was coming down the ravine.  He knew more than us, and told us that the conditions were good as far as avalanche danger.  Even with this knowledge, we decided to proceed up the side of the ravine rather than the center to avoid the steepest slope.

Around the point where we met the skier, he estimated we were around 11,000 feet, and the effects of lower oxygen content were starting to be noticeable.  We were taking frequent breaks - about every 40 feet. Though keep in mind that the slope was around a 40 or 50% grade at this point, so that might have had something to do with it.  We reached some rime covered trees to the left of the ravine, and at this point a few things weren't going so well.  Noah was considering turning back at this point, because the elevation was really getting him badly, heart pounding, and just pure exhaustion.  Also, because of the steep grade, we had been on all fours, more climbing than hiking, just to maintain balance and stability while ascending.  I had fleece mittens, and he had synthetic liners and wool fingerless mitts.  From the snow contact, his hands had gotten very cold, and this is a very bad thing since we needed our hands to go up or down.  Luckily, I had some hand warmers stuck in my pack from last winter, and I gave those to him.

To address the exhaustion problem, I realized that we hadn't eaten anything so far.  Noah hadn't brought anything with him, thinking that the hike would have been considerably easier.  I decided from that point that my food was going to be divided evenly between us, because there was no way we'd get up if one of us had no food.  In the past, I've found that XL chocolate bars are great for getting sugar and fat into the body on cold weather hikes.  They are also upwards of 600 calories a bar, so I had grabbed some of those for the hike in addition to two sandwiches and some snacks.  We each had a chocolate bar and very soon felt a lot more energized.

As we weaved through the trees, the slope got even steeper, maxing out at around a 60% grade, which is difficult with only snowshoes, since even they were sliding down on each step.  So, admittedly, we were not properly equipped.  We could manage, but we made it hard for ourselves.  Ice axes would have been perfect for this situation.  Even one each would have done the trick - just to have something to help with traction.  The snowshoes had 14 spikes per foot, but they weren't deep enough to penetrate the ice below the recent snow.

At this point, our breaks were now happening about every 20 steps.  The air was thin - you could take a big gulp of air, but it wouldn't really make you feel less out of breath.  We were faced with a false peak ahead of us, with the actual summit to the left of us.  With both of us getting pretty tired, we decided to make it to the ridge, and then reassess to determine if we had enough energy to continue to the summit.  That process took longer than I had imagined, but after passing through more piles of scree and wavy snow that was covered in rime itself, we made it to the ridge.  I was first to arrive, and as I crested, I saw the entirety of the massif before me.  I was filled with a sense of awe, joy, humbleness, and satisfaction.  It is hard to describe how it feels to see a view like that after a climb.  It is the reason why I do winter climbs.

Moments after I arrived and expressed my joy, Noah came up and collapsed next to me, breathing hard.  He needed his time to recover from the last push to the ridge.  He wouldn't even speak as I was trying to congratulate him.  After a few minutes, we regained strength, and stood in amazement at the basin in front of us.  The summit was looking over it from our left, with Agassiz Peak to the right.

We discussed whether to go the last 0.3 miles to the summit or not, and we decided to go.  The flatness was a relief after going up the steep ravine.  The snow had crested over the ridge, something I had always wanted to see.  Normally, my winter hiked just result in the whole summit being covered, but having one side bald like this was really exciting to see.

Strong winds pushed us from the left as we got closer to the summit.  We were very eager as we climbed the final cone and saw the summit sign.  The wind was now howling, making it very hard to hear each other with our hats and hoods up.

There was a circle of rocks that we could sit inside to escape some of the wind and eat our sandwiches and snacks.  I wanted to sit in the sun and take in the warmth for a long time, but our faces were getting a bit cold, and we didn't want to be coming down in the dark, so we packed up and headed down.

The ridge descent was fine, but then as we followed our tracked down the side of the ravine, we realized how nuts we were to have come up, and now how challenging it would be to descend the same slope. Falling forward would have been painful and dangerous, and so was snowshoeing backwards.  Again, ice axes would have been quite helpful.  We decided to take off the snowshoes and try sliding down, using our boots to kick into the snow to slow down.  Once I found that this method worked, I was having the time of my life.  Noah was still hesitant, and had me go first.  I would slide down to a rock to brace myself, and then turn around to help him stop.  This method worked well, despite it being "nerve-wracking" for Noah.  However, we reached a point where there was a good portion of the ravine that was rock-free and treeless.  We wanted to slide down and across the ravine, and we could use the opposite side of the slope to slow down if we got going to fast.  I began this at a moderate pace, taking the video that was posted on facebook.  I was shocked to see Noah fly past me at a wild rate of speed.  Something let go in his mind, saying that he was going to go all out.  I tried to get in his path, because that would make me go faster. My snowshoes dragging behind me on my pack made steering difficult.

There is nothing quite like this, except perhaps skiing or snowboarding, either of which I have done.  After glissading down this ravine, I may have to take up skiing some day soon, and experience the thrill of going down things quickly.

Even wearing rain pants, we soon got completely soaked, but this was not a big problem because it had warmed up 20° as we descended 2000', and we didn't have any cotton on.  We were having so much fun that we missed the place where we were supposed to turn left into the woods.  So we had to climb back up the scree field for awhile until we saw out footsteps from the way up.  With the sun baking all the snow, it had become much softer than before.  This was challenging to walk on, but everything was paled in comparison to the fun that was had glissading down.

In summary:

• Wear sunscreen even if it's snowy.  Sun in May really burns, as I am still regrowing a new face after over a week later.
• Ice axes help a lot over a 50% grade
• Bring lots of food that's high in sugar and fat
• High elevation hiking is super fun

Google Earth imagery and elevation profile for our (rough) path.  Viewing from the northwest side.

Blue path below is our route, red is where we were supposed to go. Lots of distance was shaved off, however at a cost of extreme steepness.  (And extreme fun on the way down!)  Mileage was approx. 7.4 miles, time was 8 hours.

Can't wait to get my feet into some more high elevation climbs along my trip here.  Also I need to get an ice axe.

Coming next will be some posts about a Trans-Utah trip with Noah!