Mt. Timpanogos - Redemption...almost

Last year my friend Rick and I made an attempt at climbing Mt. Timpanogos (Timp) via Everest Ridge on the West face. We planned on an overnighter, but never made it to our intended camp site on the Timp- Big Baldy saddle. We bumped up against heavy trees/brush, a large spring, and deep snow on the Battle Creek (North) side of Big Baldy.

Ever since then the massif that is Timp has been looking down at me, taunting me. Timp is a beautiful mountain and Everest Ridge is an awesome route running up the middle of the West face from Big Baldy to a point about .38 mile south of the summit. After a couple of weeks of heavy storms, heat, and massive avalanche danger everything finally settled down and Rick and I made our attempt.

We decided on a single day push from the bottom of Dry Canyon on the South side of Big Baldy. With snowshoes strapped to our packs we left the trailhead at around 5:20am. The temps were cold enough to keep the snow pretty solid until we got to near the saddle (~8000 ft.) where the snow was deeper and less consolidated. We moved up a prominent low angle ridge to the base of Everest Ridge where things got pretty steep. After a 100 yards we stashed our snowshoes next to a small band of rocks and switched to crampons and ice axes.

It was fantastic working our way up the ridge, watching the valley floor and Baldy drop below us. Most of the going was pretty steep, but stable crusty snow. A few stretches of post holing kept the heart rate up and made us extra grateful for the solid stuff. At one point, I think around 10,500 ft., there is a narrow, rocky ridge, that made the going a little interesting, and did a good job of breaking up the stretches of snow and post holing.

Rick and I finally made it to the cliff band, often referred to as the Step. We opted to traverse to the right (South) on a pretty steep slope. We got about halfway through the first section, after I slipped a couple of times and Rick admitting that his leg injury wasn't doing so well, we decided that we probably ought to cut it short and turn around.

Our high point was at around 11,300 ft. We dropped down a hundred or so to a place where we could glissade down the chute. There was a large crack across the face so we stayed far to the left so as to not tempt the avalanche gods. Just as we were about to start our slide down four college students, who were coming down from the summit stopped to watch. They had never heard of glissading down this section and were intrigued with not having to climb down the entire ridge.

After watching Rick and I they got enough courage to give it a try themselves. After that they were hooked and provided us with some ready made glissade tracks to follow down much of the mountain. After a lot of glissading and walking we made it to the cliff band where we had stowed the snowshoes. Only we were about 500 yards to the South. What proceeded was the worst period of post holing and swimming in waist deep snow that I've ever had. It was pretty late in the day and the snow was pretty soft and slushy. It took an hour or two (I really have no idea how long, but it felt like an eternity) until I was below the spot where I could finally see our snowshoes. Only problem, I had about a hundred yards to go strait up a 45 degree slope. At times I was literally moving on all fours, just trying to stay as near the top of the snow as I could.  I was about 30 ft. from the snowshoes and nearly gave up when I realized that 30 ft. was about a year in post holing years. Eventually I made it and after some trouble finally made it down to the bottom where Rick was wringing out his socks. He had followed me part of the way but had to give up when his leg injury started some serious nagging.

As is usually the case with me, once the climbing is done I get a strong mental urge to just get down to the car. The problem is that my knees don't like the quick pounding descent, so I'm forced to stop now and then to give them a break. 

Though Rick and I still didn't summit, I feel much more satisfied with this effort than last year when we were turned back so early. Timp still looks down on me, but its nice to look back near the summit to see just how close we got. I'll definitely have another go at it. Each time I learn some new lessons. Next time, if the weather is going to be warm, start much earlier in the morning and stow the snowshoes in a spot that I'll pass by on the way down.