Montana's Granite Peak is arguably the toughest state highpoint in the lower-48 - and only then it's an argument between it and Wyoming's Gannett Peak, and possibly Washington's Mount Rainier. Granite Peak stands in at 12,799 feet, but it's not the elevation that makes it such a challenge, it's the effort and climbing skills required to make the summit. As opposed to just hiking a trail to the top, one must negotiate rocks, cliffs and a potentially treacherous snowbridge to make the summit. In 1999 I made an attempt for the summit but we never got higher than our high-camp due to storminess and lightning. That was frustrating because I never got an honest shot at the peak. This time, I hoped the weather would hold so that I'd get my chance. It did, and everyone had a successful summit day - all 13 of us!

There are two main approaches to the summit: the lower "Lakes" route and the higher "Plateau" route. In 1999, I went with the Beartooth Guide Service and we took the Lakes route. That trip should have been subtitled "How To Guarantee Failure". Let's see: the night before I left I broke up with my girlfriend. Also, I'd purchased my plane ticket late (spending a lot of money, of course) AND even then only getting one to Salt Lake City, which meant I had to rent a car and drive 7 hours to Red Lodge in Montana. I arrived late the night before we were to start so I didn't sleep well and as a result, the whole trip was a march from hell for me. I was actually glad we didn't try for the summit then, as my mind wasn't in it at all. Also, I learned that the Lakes route really really is nasty. The advantage is that is stays low and out of the ferocity of the storms that build most days. The disadvantages were many: the route after Mystic Lake is unmaintained with much deadfall and some erosion and bad trails, not to mention long sections of talus and one particularly miserable talus section along Avalanche Lake. And that's not all: that route only got us to about 9,900 feet, leaving a nearly 3,000-foot summit day gain. It did not seem like a recipe for success. After that experience, I decided to lay low on Montana for a while and wait for another chance to come up. And one did.

I found out about a planned Granite Peak expedition back in June 2002 while hiking with my hiking buddy Adam in Nevada. He and his pal Edward Earl (whom I met on Granite Chief in Placer County, California), had made an attempt in 1998 at Granite Peak and were unsuccessful. They had taken the same Lakes route as I and although they had better weather, they simply got off-route way up high and had to turn back. Adam mentioned that he and Edward were trying again as part of a large group being formed by Dave Covill of Boulder, Colorado. I gently inquired to Dave and was made an offer to join after a couple of others had dropped out. In time, the team solidified and included Dave and his wife Beckie and their friend Jennifer Roach, also of Boulder. Mike Coltrin joined me as the other Arizona representative. Kevin Williamson from Georgia, Chuck Bickes from Massachusetts, and Adam and Edward from California rounded out the group, for a total of nine. It was a strong group. Dave has extensive experience leading climbs in the Colorado Rocky Mountains, while Jennifer is one of the few people to have climbed all 600+ peaks in Colorado over 13,000 feet. Her husband is Gerry Roach, the second person ever to climb all the "Seven Summits", the highest peaks on each continent... including Everest, of course. Chuck had climbed Denali in Alaska previously, while everybody had good snow/glacier/rock experience. Nevertheless, many of us, me included, freely admitted that some of the rock sections might be pushing our skills a bit and we insisted on ropes for belay. A tenth individual joined us and by himself probably made the most significant contribution: Edward's brother Jim Earl, a professional climber and a local of the area. Jim acted as an ad-hoc guide as he knew the route, and his anchor-setting and rope-craft helped speed things along considerably. The other three would join us later.

I had all of July to worry about the climb. A good kind of worry, but worry nonetheless. I knew I was going up against something big and challenging, and I hoped I could do it. After my summer session at ASU ended on August 1st, I flew into Billings on Friday, August 2nd, and was met by Chuck. We later picked up Adam at the airport and we three caravaned to the home of Jerry and Betty Brekhus in Red Lodge, about 50 miles southwest of Billings. The Brekhuses are long-time locals with extensive experience in the Absaroka-Beartooth (A-B) Mountains, and they kindly allowed us to stay the night at their place while we sorted gear, ate burgers, meeted and greeted one another and talked about the climb. That evening a cold storm cell blew through and gave us cause for worry. The A-Bs are well-known for its storms. But the night was still and Saturday, August 3rd, started sunny. We all ate a breakfast at a cafe in Red Lodge and then convoyed to the trailhead. Getting our stuff together and everyone squared away lasted until almost 10 a.m., when we started the actual hike in. With gear and provisions for 5 days, our packs were quite heavy, and the hike of today would be the most strenuous of all. We would be taking the higher Froze-To-Death Plateau approach instead of the Lakes approach.

The hike starts at a small set of houses and buildings which are property of the Mystic Lake Hydroelectric Dam, roughly 6,500 feet elevation. The trail is excellent and in about 2 miles gains about 1,200 feet to top out above the Mystic Lake Dam. From here we dropped about 150 feet down and shortly came upon a sandy beach area popular with fishers and others out for a fun hike, and there were many. Mystic Lake is about 2 miles long and sits at the bottom of a deep canyon, with cliffs and mountainsides rising almost 3,000 feet above. We all rested at this beach area, which took about 2 hours to reach for us. From here we hiked about another 1,000 feet along level trail along the south side of Mystic Lake until we reached the junction with the Rosebud Trail.

The hike up this trail was exhausting: it gained almost 2,500 feet in 3 miles to top out on the Froze-To-Death (FTD) Plateau. The trail is actually in excellent shape, but with packs on it was slow going. About 2/3 of the way up, the clouds started to amass and rain started to fall. I got out my parka and rainpants and did my best to stay dry, as did everyone else. We all eventually made the saddle on FTD and set up camp, the culmination of 3,600 feet of vertical gain with packs in about 6 miles of hiking. Today had been exhausting. We set up our tents just as the storms started in, and for most of the night we got clobbered with rain, hail and winds. This was typical A-B weather, we kept saying to ourselves. But our spirits were high and the hardest part of the approach was done. During the evening Jim appeared, having started much later than us.

Sunday the 4th started cool and cloudy on the plateau but the rain had stopped, and by 8 a.m. or so, the sun had broken through. We packed up and started the second leg of the approach. We hiked roughly due west on the northern flanks of FTD Mountain for about 2 miles, then cut south about another 2 miles up and over a soft saddle, eventually reaching our high camp north of the summit of Tempest Mountain. This entire hike was above tree-line, taking us from about 10,100 feet to just below 12,000 feet elevation (our camp was about at 11,800 feet at the base of a knoll with a melting "smiley-face" snow bank and pre-made rock windshelters for our tents). We arrived around 2 p.m., leaving us most of the day to relax, rest and get our stuff in order for the next day's summit attempt. We talked to some people hiking out that day and they had said the storms were brutal where they were and that they had failed at the summit due to the storms and the wetness/ice. Around 4 p.m. a group of 3 men showed up: Jack Edwards, Leon Barkman and Lee Craven. They knew of our team from Dave and Dave knew that they were coming. Jack and Leon are well above 60, while Lee was more my age (in fact, of the 13 people overall, I was the 2nd youngest: only Jim was younger!). Jack, Leon and Lee were going as a separate team, but as things would turn out, we merged into one ad-hoc team of 13. While the sun set, we had one bit of very good news: the storms stayed away! The "usual" afternoon storms never materialized and we hoped for a dry evening to allow everything to dry out. Aside from a rogue cell that blew in and out around midnight, we had a perfectly dry evening. I didn't sleep well though... nervous! The big day was coming near, and I was too amped to sleep well.

I awoke at 4:45 a.m. on Monday, August 5th in cold but clear conditions. By 5:45 were were all ready to go. We walked single-file up the gentle slopes near Tempest Mountain, which sits due east of Granite Peak. Interestingly, Granite Peak was never in view other than tiny glimpses of its top for our entire hike in. But as we surmounted a gentle rise, we could now see the peak in its entirety! While most of the peaks in the A-Bs are gentle piles of rocks, Granite is a cliff-laden monster with no easy apparent way to the top (at least not to me). The use-trail starts down the side of Tempest Mountain and drops about 500 feet to the Granite-Tempest (G-T) Saddle, elevation 11,500 feet and roughly a mile from our camp. We were at the G-T Saddle about 7 a.m. sharp. From here the summit is a tantalizing one mile in distance, but 1,300 feet above us. From the saddle we climbed up a steep and rocky slope, gainig 800 feet before arriving at a notch in a ridge. The climbing here was easy, as the rocks were set solid and the route mostly common sense. We had to skirt a large snowfield on the way.

From this notch we hiked down about 50 feet then across shortly to our first main obstacle and the start of the really tough climbing. The obstacle is a snow-bridge, just nothing more than some remnant snow that crested on the ridge but featured steep 50-degree slopes on both sides. A slip here without a belay would mean a fast slide down these slopes and likely death. We established a fixed rope line and everyone carefully and slowly made their way across. Edward and Dave largely set up the line, while I stayed and helped tie people in to the line with prusiks. Getting people across went slow... then Jim appeared! Jim had left way before us and had already summitted Granite (!) by a different route. Like a mountain goat with no regard to gravity, Jim hopped blithely down the rocks to us and started to assist, mainly with route-finding. Since I was doing the "tying-in" for everyone, I ended up going across the snow-bridge second-to-last. By the time I'd made it across, most of the others had already started up the steep rocks and chutes and were out of sight.

From the snow-bridge to the summit the distance is only about 0.4 mile and about 500 feet up, but is a consistent blend of cliffs, chutes and chimneys. However, the climb neatly divides into about 4 distinct parts. The first part is immediately after the snow-bridge, where a steep chute leads up the left (south) side of the main ridge. The hand-holds are solid but it is very steep and exposed and definitely qualifies as Class-4 in my book. I simply concentrated on the rock right in front of me and didn't worry about the exposure below. Dave, Beckie, Jennifer and I formed a small group and with Jim hopping between us, he showed us where to proceed to meet up with the others. After two of these chutes, we came to a V-notch marked by a cairn, which marks the next main short section. There is a small downclimb of about 40 feet but it is easy, and after some class-3 scrambling up a pile of rocks, we came to the next significant chute. This one was a bit tricky and Jim had set up a rope belay for safety. Everyone made it up this bit, with me going second-to-last, again (Usually Dave went last and cleaned the route). One move was real tricky due to an inconveniently-placed large rock right in the chute. A lot of people struggled here - in fact, my height gave me an advantage as I could reach hand and footholds a little easier than the others.

The third main section is the "Upper Cliffs". From the chute we hiked along ledges to the base of a significant cliff band. The summit is in full view here, just about 200 feet above us. To the left is a landmark called the Keyhole, which is what we were aiming for. Most people get stuck up here because route-finding is so tricky. The natural inclination is to try to get to the Keyhole directly but this usually does not work. Instead, we zig-zagged up the cliffs, somewhat counter-intuitively, but this would allow us safe passage to the Keyhole, from which the summit was just a short scramble away.

From our ledge below these cliffs, Edward, Mike and Jack had already scampered up the rocks and cliffs without ropes. The route here requires a traverse along a ledge only about 6-inches wide for about 15 feet (with about 20-30 feet of exposure to the immediate rocks below). Edward climbed this, setting in some rock protection on the way. Tailing a rope, Edward scurried up a significant chute to another ledge about 80 feet up. At this point Jim took over as belaymaster while Edward went further up to set another line in yet another potentially tricky section. The rest of us congregated below and made our way up the cliff and chute, using the fixed line as a belay with prusiks, and another line as a top-rope which Jim pulled up as each one of us climbed this section. In my mind, this is the crux of the climb. Everything up to this point had been doable, if steep and heart-poundingly exposed, but this section was a shade more challenging all around, I think. I'd have to rate this stretch low Class-5, if only because we all felt it wisest to set protection along the way. Once everyone was past this long section, we re-convened at the higher, shorter chute where Edward was helping people up. The climbing here went fast as the chute was maybe just 25-30 feet tall, but again, blessed with some big chock-blocks that made some moves challenging. Once past this last chute, the route follows some easy ledges up to the Keyhole. The final section was just a scramble up large boulders to the summit. At fifteen minutes after noon I finally scampered up to the very top, one of the last of the group to make it. Everyone was sitting around the moderate-sized flat top and beside the summit slabs. The very tippy-top is marked by a small cairn on an elongated slab, with a benchmark. The weather had help up nicely all morning. We stayed long enough to snap some photos before starting down. After all that I only stayed up there about 15 minutes. Heck... the hardest part of the climb was still ahead of us! But my 15 minutes on top was incredible. The views are magnificent and I let out at least 2 hearty yells... but now I wanted down.

Downclimbing is always trickier because (a) one must try to place their feet where they can't be seen and (b), forces one to look down! Yikes! But what choice did I have? From the summit to the top of the rope section went pretty smoothly. But with the ropes in place we were going to rappel much of these cliffs instead of down-climbing them. Rappelling is a blast but requires skill, too. Mike went first and got down the first bit no problem. Adam went second. He's so light he had to really work is device to get going, and then he pendulumed once slightly before getting the hang of it and proceeding down. I went third and made the jumps pretty quickly. We were rapping on 10-mil cord, which is thinner than what I'm used to (11-12 for me). I went a little quick in one section... but did fine. We then rapped the class-4/5 section down to the ledges. Rapping certainly makes this down-climbing business go quickly, although it means we must wait while one person goes at a time. We continued to rap down the roped sections, including one exhilirating rap that took us all the way down to the snow bridge. In all, getting down these cliffs went very quick with the rappels; I don't think I would have been able to downclimb otherwise.

The snowbridge proved to be a bit tricky as it started to freeze up in the shadows. After a couple of false starts where I slipped, I finally sucked up the courage and scampered across. A major mental victory! The cliffs and technical bits were behind me! From here is was just the 800-foot descent to the G-T Saddle and then up the 500 feet to the FTD Plateau and our tents. But this was easier said than done: I was so utterly physically exhausted from all this that I simply hit the "wall". I guess I'd been so wired and "in the zone" up on the cliffs that when I got down past them, my body just went kaput. I was low on water, too, and the only food I had left was cheese and jerky - not very appetizing. But I wasn't the only one suffering apparently, as I could see the others sort of taking their time, too. Dave and I hiked together from the saddle out to the top, and I finally arrived at camp at nearly 8 p.m.- a 14-hour summit day. I quickly filtered some water and ate a real meal and I felt much better very quickly. We all just milled about in the great weather and some enjoyed cocoa and whiskey. But everyone was crashed no later than 10 p.m.

The hike out the next day took 7 hours and we were back to the trailhead by 4 p.m. After an hour of recuperating we all went to the Grizzly Bar in Roscoe for a well-deserved meal. I had a 20-oz, inch-thick Prime Rib and the darkest beer I could get. Absolutely awesome. Only Mike was missing as he'd gone ahead to Billings to visit family. A bunch of bikers were there (this being the Sturgis Rally week), plus a good assortment of locals, tourists and some quite impressive women! We, however, smelled pretty bad, but who gave a crap? Not me! I had beer and prime rib in my tummy and Granite Peak in the books! Yes!!!!

Some comments about this climb:

First, I could not have done this without the assistance of some very capable team members: Jim and Edward for their anchors and ropecraft, and Mike and Lee for their belay help. It was also very inspiring to be with a large group that included many people whose skills were about at my level. If they could do it, I certainly could! It was very motivating and had I been by myself, I probably would not have been so eager to upclimb some of these exposed bits, much less downclimb them.

With such a large group (13), we did experience a lot of "sitting and waiting". This could have been problematic if the weather had gone sour. We figured that if our group had numbered about 6, the total time might have been shaved by 4-5 hours. It really did take time to get people up and down the technical sections.

Ah, the weather: it held! Not a raindrop worthy of the name until about 7 p.m., and only then just a smattering. We were very fortunate to have good weather and we realized it.

Lastly, the mountain itself. For some very experienced rock/mountain climbers who have much skill on rock, it is a straightforward climb, but it is very exposed. I can climb up to about 5.4 as long as I am tied in to a belay. Make no mistake: I hauled myself up every inch of that mountain. A belay does not mean I'm getting pulled up; it's just a safety line. But without that safety line, there would not have been the proper margin of safety for me. This climb really exemplified the idea of a team concept. Everyone made it, everyone got down, and there were no major injuries. We did not conquer Granite Peak. The mountain and the weather allowed us safe passage for that one day.