Trip Report: Tyler Peak, 10,740 ft, Lemhi Range, Idaho

Tyler Peak, Lemhi Range, Idaho

• March 19, 2016
• Team: Myself
• Summit: 
• Tyler Peak
• Route: North Creek
• YDS: Class 3
• Total Elevation Gain: approximately 5,172 ft.
• Total Miles: approximately 12.25 miles

Ascent in magenta. Descent in green
Image was taken from the ridge between Goved Peak and Shrill Peak, October, 2015

Tyler Peak in relation to the southern Lemhi Range
Image taken at 11:00 P.M. June 4, 2014 from the Birch Creek side
Mars is visible in the south

I was on the road by 6:00 A.M. Saturday morning. Said hello to Steve at Ray's and bought a Pepsi for the road. The trip across the desert was punctuated by the collision with an owl hunting over the road. What are the odds of hitting an owl the last two trips to North Creek on the Little Lost River side of the Lemhis! Such beautiful birds, I felt terrible. That small superstitious part in my head hoped it wasn't an omen. Going into the mountains alone always heightens my level of concern and this was not a good way to begin. My rational part quickly dismissed the irrational notion, and I continued on to the trail head at the mouth of North Creek. Driving in, I passed 4 elk.

North Creek is located several miles north of Howe. I always look for the ridge the extends west from the north south running crest of the Lemhis down to the highway. Once past this landmark, a fenced grave site is on the east side of the road. Passing the grave, start looking for a green street sign marking North Creek. The sign is reflective so it reflects brightly in high beam headlights. Turn east and travel on a county maintained road 6 miles to Dave's house. Park on the right side of the road near Dave's large storage shed. There is a place to pull off the road here and park. You may be met by Dave,s large red and white Australian Shepard named Clyde. Don't panic. Clyde is one of the best dogs around and is glad to have your attention. Every time Clyde greets me, it makes my day.

I was on the trail heading into the canyon at 7:30. The temperature was 16 degrees. The forecast called for a sunny day with temperatures getting barely above freezing. Just what I was looking for after last week's attempt of Mount Church. 

An ATV trail leads deep into the canyon. Once past the foot of Gloved Peak (10,604), I headed northeast up the drainage. I was looking for a gully which would lead up to the west face of Tyler. Unfortunately, the forest made finding the right turnoff impossible for me. It's just plain hard to navigate by sight in a thick forest. I was winging this trip without the help of GPS points. I continued up the main well-defined drainage. The snow was fairly good for snowshoes. I remained on top most of the way up this gully. When I did break through, it was often no more than calf deep. I got a good look at Daisy Black to the north. This vantage clearly showed our December folly of finding a way from Daisy Black to Tyler along the ridge. The point where Jeremy scouted the route to the edge of the massive cliff is visible in profile on the left in the photo below.

Daisy Black from North Creek

I went much farther than anticipated. The morning was early and I was in no hurry. Passed Peak 10,172 on my left and turned southeast continuing up the main drainage. The sun was breaking the ridge ahead directly in front of me. I had no idea where I was and decided to make the ridge to get a look at my location in relation to Tyler. This section was slow and arduous. Often I was breaking through snow above my knees, not a happy camper.

Thigh deep snow even with snowshoes

Looking back at the drainage I came up

Walking up the gully, I passed several old avalanche tracts that came down perpendicular to the drainage. Soon I entered  the run-out of a large slide that came down the main drainage. hiking up the debris field, I came to a crown of about 2 feet. By now the snow had formed a cohesive pack and the danger of avalanche was very slim. I felt confident in the continued ascent. Come spring, the slides will begin again.

A slide off to my right

Looking back on the large slide debris in the main gully

Once on the ridge, I was completely surprised to find that I had overshot Tyler Peak. I was on the ridge between 10,172 and Tyler. Now that I had my bearings, I began the march along Tyler's north ridge to the summit. Coming up at this location afforded incredible views of the peak. It was worth any extra effort expended to have this view.

Tyler Peak on left

Trading snowshoes for crampons and poles for an axe, I walked toward the peak. At each bend I was rewarded with more spectacular views of my destination. The route appeared to be quite gnarly as I neared the summit block of layered rock bands. The small dollop of peaked snow on the top added a confectioner's like swirl to the crown.

Walking the ridge

Another bend 

Looking back

At about this point on the ridge, I noticed a group of 6 ewes gingerly making their way down the ridge toward me. I remained motionless to see just how close they would come before they noticed me. Watching them move effortlessly down rock and snow was another treat. I snapped several photos to record their approach.

They finally noticed me and came to a halt. They stared, considering me intently. I thought it was hard for them to imagine finding a strange creature completely out of context on a high snow-covered mountain ridge. Finally, I decided that the staring contest had come to an end and moved toward them. That was all they needed to turn around and high tail it back up the ridge.

Mountain sheep staring contest

Six ewes fleeing the scene

I have decided that one of the reasons I venture out into the mountains is for the views that can be had no where else. Simply amazing.

The back side of the large rock fins that dominate the slope
Tyler Peak on left
Daisy Black on right

Loved this slash of rock

Daisy Black (10,401)

Finally made it to the cliffs at the base of the summit block. It looked like it was possible to climb up and through the rocks. It was definitely approaching class 4 climbing on rock, snow, and ice. I kicked in a few steps and then decided to avoid such a climb. I was not sure, even if I could make the initial pitch, I would find a passage through the top of the rock bands. Also, being alone, I was concerned about keeping myself in one piece for a long descent. I decided to drop off the ridge and skirt the rocks at the base. This was the sketchiest part of the climb. I carefully made my way down the steep snow covered slope. A few times the snow was almost waist deep and I was worried about triggering a slide. The run out was over cliffs! I kept my axe in a constant self belay and proceeded carefully. Was much relieved to leave the deep snow and round the bottom of the rock band. I snapped a photo of my descent line. for some reason it seemed a lot steeper than this image makes it out to be. I guess you just had to be there.

Rounding the base of the rock bands

The next section of the climb was up an incredibly steep scree face with patches of snow and ice. It was so steep that to attack it directly required me to use both hands and feet. I ended up slowly traversing back and forth to reach the summit. It was cool to find a single trail of goat tracks (I think) curved over the summit.

The summit of Tyler Peak
Mount Hoopes 
Saddle Mountain

Daisy Black from Tyler Peak

Rather than retrace my long route back, I decided to drop down the drainage I had originally planned to ascend. This would knock some miles off the return hike. I traversed down toward the dip in the ridge leading to Daisy Black and then headed directly down. When I reached the point where all rocks were buried under sufficient snow, I enjoyed a short glissade.

The point I traversed to on the down climb

Then it was a matter of big steps in soft snow. I knocked off 1,700 ft in an hour. I found myself at the debris tow of a large avalanche field. Rested and again traded my crampons and axe for snowshoes and poles. Then began the long slog over an open section and into the forest. Once I entered the trees, I picked the best looking gully and, once again, slogged on in thigh deep snow down the narrow drainage.

Looking down the drainage I descended
Notice the large rock fins in profile

Looking back from the open section
My tracks can be seen leaving the debris toe of the avalanche

The next part down the narrow gully in deep snow was simply exhausting. I was overjoyed to finally intersect with my trail from the morning ascent. Ah, broken trail! This route had whacked off hours off the morning tangent. In two hours I had managed to converge with my path. I think it was just another hour before I was out in the open of upper North Creek and on the ATV trail. At this point I turned around to see what I could see. Tyler's summit and the drainage I descended were framed with trees. Now if I had made that elusive drainage in the morning, I would have cut my time considerably! Yet, the views of Tyler from the north ridge, the sheep, and my sketchy traverse would have never made it into the story.

Once back at the car, Dave drove over to see how I was doing. We chatted a bit. He said he has been battling high blood pressure for over a year. He didn't plant last spring because of it. Said he thinks he is doing a bit better and hopes to plant this spring. I wished him well and told him I would bring him a print I made of of his little ranch the next time I was in the area. I think he will get a kick out of it. I said hello to Clyde and then made my good-byes before heading back to the Little Lost River Highway and home.

GPS Track

INDEX OF PEAKS

Trip Report: Mount Hoopes, 10,728, Lemhi Range, Idaho

Jeremy Smith making the summit of Mount Hoopes

• December 21-22, 2015
• Team: Jeremy Smith
• Summit: 
• Mount Hoopes, 10,728, Lemhi Range
• Route: Camp Creek
• YDS: Class 2
• Total Elevation Gain 5,013'
• Total Miles: 13.5

Since my Great Western attempt last month, this section of the Lemhis keeps surfacing in my mind. the Camp Creek approach is long but the southern fork leads into a box canyon below a saddle between Great Western Peak and Mount Hoopes. In November, I made the mistake of making the western ridge leading to Great Western too soon. That gentle ridge soon gave way to a labyrinth of cliffs. I had no choice but to abandon the ridge and retreat back and down into Camp Creek. This trip, back up Camp Creek and up the southwest face of Mount Hoopes, gave me a good look at the ridge I attempted to navigate through. Another part of the Lemhi puzzle gained by experience.

West ridge of Great Western Peak

I planned this winter approach back up Camp Creek and to the Lemhi crest several weeks ago. Yet, though I don't mind going by myself, I have limits as to what I will attempt solo. This winter trek was out of those limits. I tried selling the idea to anyone I though might be able and willing. James Helfrich was interested but not firm. Then out of the blue, Jeremy Smith contacted me asking if I had any winter climbing plans. did I have plans! I met Jeremy on the top of Hyndman Peak earlier in the year and we went down together. We exchanged contact information and said we would have to climb together sometime. I was thrilled by his contact and even more thrilled that he was actually excited about the possibility of such an adventure. James later committed to going up with us the first day. He wanted to join us for the two days, but had family commitments on the 22.

The morning of the 21st was overcast, blustery, and spitting snow. We parked up North Creek by Dave's large garage. Yes, Dave actually lives in the middle of nowhere. One of the reasons I picked this approach was I knew the county maintains the six miles of road from the highway to Dave's house. This provides a convenient way to get to the mountains all winter.

From North Creek, we hiked south to Camp Creek. Following the drainage east, we eventually left the sagebrush and were soon in conifers. Donning snowshoes we continued up the canyon.

James Helfrich and Jeremy Smith at Camp Creek

About the point where James turned back for the day

James was in his element. He happily plodded through the calf deep snow breaking trail the entire way! Jeremy and I were super grateful. We carried heavy packs, planning on spending the night. My packed topped out about 42 pounds. Jeremy's had to be 55 plus pounds. despite his heavy load, he muscled his way up the drainage with ease. I lumbered after rocket man and atlas. James eventually said goodbye and bid us a safe trip before heading down.

Soon the pitch became more steep and the snow much deeper. We labored in knee deep sugary powder. Our plan of making the crest that evening began to fade. Finally, we reached the head wall. If I remember right, we had less than two hours of light and about 1,300 feet of elevation to the crest. To make matters worse, we could not see very far due to the low clouds and light snow. We just did not know exactly where to begin. Jeremy wisely suggested we make camp and wait for morning to make the ascent. At a little over 9,100 feet we dug a platform for the tent and built a short wall around the windward side of the shelter.

We watched the sun set in the west and crawled into our bags around 5:00 P.M. Our bags felt so good, we didn't even crawl out to make dinner. We dozed off and on till morning. Jeremy has done a lot of winter camping and came prepared for the night. He took his pee bottle to bed with him. At about 10:30 I emerged from the tent to relieve myself. In driving wind blown snow in about 10 degrees, I thought I've got to get one of those bottles!

Camp

Fading light in the west

Last light on the Lost River Range

We awoke to patchy blue sky. A good omen. Boiled some water and enjoyed oatmeal, two cups of hot chocolate, and a chocolate pudding cup. The half frozen consistency of the pudding was pretty good. We broke camp and prepared for the climb. Our plan was now to summit Mount Hoopes, continue on to Tyler Peak, and check out the ridge to Daisy Black.

We went up the southwest face of the box canyon. I kept looking back at Great Western. Rick Bauhger told me that he had skied from the summit of Great Western into Camp Creek. I tried to pick out his possible descent line. Snapped a few pics for Rick to revisit his run.

Great Western Peak from the north

Great Western Peak from the north

The ascent to the crest just seemed to take much longer than I expected. We picked lines of exposed rock to avoid deep sugar snow. I think this strategy paid off. Of course breaking trail with heavy packs surely slowed us down. We traded off leading to give one another a rest. It was amazing the extra effort required to break the trail. When following, it seemed like a walk in the park. I think Jeremy bore the brunt of breaking. I really appreciated his stamina.

Our first line to the crest through the exposed rocks in the center

Looking down into Camp Creek

Jeremy making the first ridge to the crest

Spin drift
Saddle Mountain on right

By the time we reached the crest, The sky was clear in the north and the sun shone brightly. We couldn't have asked for better weather. It was a bit blustery at times making for some dramatic spin drift blowing off the mountains to the east. We were greeted by stunning views of the mountains to the north.

Looking southeast

Looking north

Mount Hoopes

The reason for the sacrifice

Jeremy on the summit of Mount Hoopes

Before the summit

The ridge to Tyler Peak

Ridge to Daisy Black from Tyler

Detail of the above ridge

Gloved Peak (center) and ridge to Shrill

The gnarly looking Daisy Black

Once on the summit of Hoopes, I looked longingly at the ridge to Tyler. Now that would be prize to bag Tyler. However, the day had passed so quickly and we found ourselves with only a few hours of daylight on the winter solstice. The views from Hoopes were spectacular and satisfying and we felt content to have achieved this objective. We also knew we would be descending into an unknown canyon to find our way back in the dark. We unanimously decided to call it good and head down. We did, however, study the line from Hoopes to Daisy Black and made informal plans to summit those peaks in the spring. Finding a line between the peaks is on our to do list.

We knew we would have a near full moon and clear skies to help us navigate, but venturing into unknown space at night always raises the level of concern. My fear was that we would end up in a box canyon and have to climb a steep ridge late at night to make another drainage. I am pretty sure Jeremy was thinking the same. despite our worries, the hike through what I now call the middle fork of Camp Creek was idyllic. The solitude, moonlight, and untouched deep snow combined to create a powerful aesthetic experience.

The hike back required some serious bush whacking. The brush and trees were so dense we had to literally squeeze our way through at times. After hours of sustained effort, I spotted a familiar landmark. we had threaded a needle and found ourselves joining our initial route up Camp Creek. Much relieved, we picked up the pace and headed for Dave's house and the car.

Really, the crux of the trip had to be contending with unbroken snow. The depth varied from about five to thirty inches. Since I lost both baskets on my poles along the way, I had a good idea how deep the snow was. Several times I buried a pole completely with no sign of the bottom. The snow pack was mostly uniform sugar with a slight crust on top. Snowshoes broke the crust and sunk in the sugary snow. We tried a few techniques to increase our efficiency and avoid the effort of sinking and then hefting a shoe covered in snow out of a hole. We tried shuffling along thinking that half of the shoe would not leave the already compacted snow behind. If the crust had been just a bit thicker, this might have worked. The most effective technique was stepping with weight on the heel. The shoe would sink at an angle. Less snow would fall in and the final resting angle was easier to slide up and out of the hole. My AT friends think I am crazy to snowshoe. I tend to agree. Next week I am learning to ski!

GPS track of Mount Hoopes Trip

Dropped Jeremy off at Sage Junction and arrived back in Rexburg around 11:45. Craving some calories, I found out that the only place to get something to eat at midnight in Rexburg was McDonalds. A Big Mac and a chocolate shake hit the spot. Much to my disappointment though was the fact that McDonalds had changed the secret sauce on the Big Mac to something more pickle like. Drove home and dragged myself into bed still wearing my base layers.

For similar trip reports and resources visit:
Idaho Climbing
Idaho, A Climbing Guide