Field Notes: Wind River High Route
Owen crossing the bridge to start the Wind River High Route
The Wind River High Route was without a doubt the hardest and most rewarding hike we've ever done. This trip was flush with stunning views and unexpected challenges. We’re thankful to have had the experience, but also thankful to be out safely.
The Green River
Owen filtering water, Day 1
This is a field report about the experience on trail. If you’re looking for a gear & packing list for this trip, you can find that HERE.
Our initial itinerary was for a 7 day hike. On the first day, we got a late start because we had to catch a shuttle from the end point of the hike around to the start at the Green River Lakes Trail Head. During the drive there was a seemingly innocuous electrical storm. Shortly after it passed, we reached the trailhead and quickly got on the move.
The first evening on trail, at camp as we were eating dinner, the sky filled with smoke that was coming from the direction we'd just come from…
Not knowing where the fire was or if we were in danger we sent out a Garmin message to a dear friend of ours who's as a wildfire photographer, Stuart Palley, to gain a better understanding of what was going on, and to avoid freaking my parents out.
Looking back towards the Dollar Fire, Day 2
The Dollar Lake fire must have started within the hour we'd passed it driving to the trail head. Within the first few hours, the fire had already grown to 600 acres and they were evacuating entire Green River Lakes valley. Thankfully, we'd just climbed out of that valley. But even more so, we'd seriously considered leaving our truck at that trailhead... the thought of that still curdles my blood. If we'd started any later, even just a few hours, this hike wouldn't have happened. With that intel, there was no turning back, the only way out, was through.
The view looking back at the head water drainage of the Green River, truly insane.
Owen in Titcomb Basin, Dollar fire smoke looming
It’s a strange feeling to have such an ominous presence looming over you all day, knowing full well we can’t do anything about it. However, with every step we were putting distance between us and the fire. Mercifully, the wind kept the smoke at bay for the most part and somehow we got incredible conditions for the first few days!
What drew us to the High Route was that a great deal of the route is off trail, meaning we wanted to suffer for sport! The route required orienteering, route picking, and a great deal of technical skills.
It’s a strange feeling to have such an ominous presence looming over you all day, knowing full well we can’t do anything about it. All we could do was keep walking to take us farther away.
Owen climbing up and over a pass, Day 2
Looking into Titcomb Basin towards the Dollar Fire
On day 3, we crossed knife point glacier (below), and spent the entire day picking our way through scree, talus and boulder fields... my ankles may NEVER be the same.
A look back at our route through Knife Point Glacier, Day 3
This section from that pass, over the glacier and to the next pass [behind where the above pic was taken from] was one of the most challenging sections of the entire trail, but also my personal favorite section of the route. It was some of the most unique terrain I think we've ever had the "pleasure" of crossing. There is something very primordial about terrain that has been under ice for thousands of years and is only recently exposed. Everything is unsettled. Everything is slowly sliding down hill or is liable to slide at any moment. It's just unlike anything I've ever experienced. Seeing the glacier and the first plant inhabitants colonize the newly exposed earth up close was wildly fascinating.
All that while also being a very dangerous environment to be in… But maybe that's apart of the allure?!
While we were putting on our micro spikes, before crossing the ice Owen and I saw bunch of rocks come flying down the ice. Owen looked at me and laughed sarcastically: "Well, that's encouraging!" Shortly there after, Owen spotted a boulder the size of a car slide down the ice a few feet.
The trail also required some low grade climbing to get around steep alpine lakes where there was no shoreline. Owen and I kept joking that it felt like this hike required skills that we've acquired from every corner of our outdoor experience over the years. Has everything we've done lead to our ability to do this hike? Kinda felt like it.
We made solid progress for the first few days, but towards the end of day 4, the weather started to take a turn. As we were coming down from a technical lake traverse towards lower ground, the sky turned a strange combo of black and orange. A serious storm was headed our way. We raced off the pass, found a spot, set up our tent and I fumbled to fix holes we'd gotten in our rain fly with the only waterproof material we had... bandaids. Holes patched, we dove into the tent just as the storm reached us.
The storm pushed a wall of orange wind and debris into us just seconds before we zipped the tent and the rain started. Once we zipped up the tent and looked around, the debris settling all around the tent was ash from the fire. Within seconds, the storm was on top of us lightning strikes just 3 counts away from us. (~.5 miles away)
After the storm I wanted a picture with my repair job because it held up in the storm!
That storm marked the beginning of the down turn in weather for us. The following day, after trying to make it as far down the High Route as possible under cloudy skies. We stopped shy of our next pass to get in some calories before climbing. As we found our resting spot, the skies opened on us once again, but this time we were not in the tent. Instead we sheltered in small stand of pine trees to wait out the hail storm. As we sat there, our clothes soaked through, lightning was pummeling the slick rock pass we had before us. The forecast looked grim. It was time to come off the High Route and down to lower ground for the remaining ~20 miles of the trail to ensure our safety.
MAK looking over one of many alpine lakes we hiked along, weather on the horizon.
As we climbed a lesser pass to get down to the CDT, using our “bail trail”, an even bigger storm slammed into us. Hail of various sizes, rain, thunder and lightning pummeled us for well over an hour. We put our cameras away early in the storm for the sake of protecting them. It was a good call, but the filmmaker in me is bummed I have zero footage from the conditions at their worst. The trail completely filled in with hail, slowly melted and then turned the trail into a river of icy water. We hiked on soaked to the bone for a few more hours.
It was not my finest hour.
Owen getting the suffering he asked for, and seemingly enjoying it
Once we realized the precipitation wasn't stopping any time soon, we stopped to don our rain pants. As soon as I looked at my pack, it was clear it was leaking. Hyperlite packs are supposed to be waterproof in rain, but we've done a lot of trips in these bags in sharp terrain, which seemingly put some holes in my pack. Before leaving for this trip, I didn't know where there, and I didn’t even think to check.
I found my sleeping bag had taken on water, as had my sleeping pad and my heavy down jacket. Oh, and did I mention the storms brought in a cold front dropping the temperatures by about 20+ degrees?! We were ~20 miles from the end of the trail at ~4pm. As mentioned, this was not my finest hour. I looked at Owen and made the bold claim that I didn’t care what it took, I was going to make the insane 10+ miles push to the end. I was soaked to the bone, so was my gear and I was OVER IT.
The far end of the above lake is where we turned around. The pass at the end of the valley was the feature we didn’t feel safe crossing in the full day of lightning storms. The pass we took to bail is right at the edge of the frame on the left side.
Owen, in a clearer headspace decided we should stop before the next wave of rain and try to let things dry out as much as possible in the tent. Ready to be out of my misery one way or another, I agreed to stop as soon as we found a suitable spot.
My quality tent leg repair job
As we were setting up the tent, one of our tent poles broke. At this point, I just couldn't help but laugh. Truly, how many things could possibly fail in one day?! I fashioned a repair using a pole splint and held it in place with?! You guessed it, more bandaids! In the end, a ton of bandaids were used on this trip, and not a single one of them was on either of our bodies. HA!
Note to self: Bring a few pieced of duct tape next time.
With the tent set up Owen, bless him, took my wet sleeping bag from me because he runs far warmer than I do. Before we turned the lights off for the night, we set our alarm for 6am to make the final push out of the Winds.
In the morning we hit the trail with heavier packs due to how wet everything was. Our goal was to do the remaining ~13-14 miles before 2pm. We hit the trail with vengeance and were done just after noon chanting all the way: "We're coming for you Boo!" (our cat)
During trips like this, where things that are out of our control happen, I often find myself wondering why the hell we do this sorta stuff?! From the git-go we set out to do this trail to challenge ourselves. We asked for a challenge, and thus I shouldn't be surprised we got one. Each time something doesn't go according to plan, which seems to be happening a lot lately, we've been able to rise to the challenge. We find a place in ourselves to overcome, adapt and learn how to do better next time. I think knowing that you're capable of facing adversity head on and can come out on the other side is an important lesson to carry into every corner of life, be it on the trail, or off.
Our final look at the mountains as we neared the end of the High Route
Aside from those "lessons" the Wind River Range is truly one of the most spectacular mountain ranges we've ever had the pleasure of spending time in so it was a real honor to get to know it more intimately. The off trail sections took us to some of the most remote corners of the range where we had the privilege of seeing unimaginable beauty.
Mother nature is a master of her craft, and here in Wyoming, she’s really showing off.
Thanks for reading, MAK
Early morning wake up call to cross a glacier, Morning of day 3
