Fremont Peak - At the Top

The summit of Fremont Peak appears suddenly, as the slope of the ridge never changes. Where one might expect the gradient to ease, the rock simply drops off in a sheer cliff to the Upper Fremont Glacier some 500 feet below. I never dared to poke my head over the cliff, as a 30-40 mph wind from the west could easily send a person on the edge on a short, intense journey to the afterlife. I did snap this photo of the glacier from a gap in the summit ridge.

The summit was cold - about 32 degrees, which combined with the bitter wind made it feel like late November. I put my long underwear and fleece back on and had to keep my hands inside my shirt most of the time to keep them functional. Compared to Fremont Peak, Mt. Elbert (highest in Colorado at 14,432 ft) is a warm, friendly place. The difference lies largely in the mass effect, a climatic principle of mountain ranges that works as follows: the higher the land that surrounds a mountain range, the less severe the climate will be at the top. Thus Mt. Elbert (surrounded by land at 10,000 feet and higher) is grass-covered and warm in the summer, while Fremont Peak (surrounded by land at 7,000 feet) is windswept, barren, and cold.

The summit is essentially a long, steep ridge with two high points of approximately equal elevation. The western one is a single boulder, too small for safe footing, while the eastern one is a larger, flat-topped block of gneiss that provides amazing views in all directions. The air was not as clear as it was last Monday, but it was clear enough to see the Grand Teton some 80 miles distant and to see the distant, slightly curved horizon of the Green River Basin to the south. For a full 360-degree view from the top, check out this panorama, then take a look at this one, with added text pointing out other high peaks and points of interest.

Zoomed-in view of Pinedale and Fremont Lake

Zoom views of Wyoming's two highest mountains, both visible from number three. Too bad I didn't have my new zoom lens, but I wasn't about to haul extra fragile weight 32 miles.

Below the summit block is a weather-beaten powder keg holding the summit register - two notebooks with names and stories from everyone who has climbed the peak in the past five years. I am the first to sign since the previous Saturday, as I scribble out some nearly-illegible cursive with my numb fingers.

The top of Fremont Peak. The flat summit block is visible in the upper left, while the summit register can be seen in the center.

Close-up of the powder keg that holds the summit register. Yes, that is snow, and it's not melting.

I climbed along the ridge to the east to look down toward the glacier below. The cliffs in the Wind River range are astounding - another feature that differentiates this area from most of the mountains in Colorado.

Self-portrait atop Fremont Peak. This was more difficult than usual given the biting wind and the small size of the summit block. I am kneeling at the opposite end of the block from the camera.

11:30 am. Time for one last trip to the summit to find a small souvenir rock. As a approach the summit, a gust of wind caught my hat and carried it up, over, and down to the glacier 500 feet below. (As I write this, I have just returned from a trip to Jackson to buy a new hat.) Hatless on a cloud-free day at 13,000+ feet, I ended up with a moderate sunburn on my face by the time I made it back to my pack.

The descent went smoothly. About halfway down, on the steepest climb, I met a middle-aged couple and their 14-year old boy on their way up - the only other climbers on Fremont today. 1700 feet down to the saddle, then another 1000 feet to Indian Basin, where I found these beautiful turquoise lakes.

Rather than traverse the sideslopes as I did on the ascent, I attempted to follow the trail through the basin. This worked until the trail crossed a creek and I didn't (with bare rock and few cairns, following the trail was often a matter of guess work). So I walked southward across the level terrain of the basin and soon found myself trapped between two halves of a lake. My options were then to backtrack around the lake or to cross this small strait connecting the lakes - about 15 feet across and a foot deep.

So off with the boots and in with the feet, and soon I am back on the trail on the correct side of the water. Back to the unnamed lake to pick up my backpack, then down to Island Lake to pump water, eat lunch, and rearrange my gear into one pack. Left Island Lake at 3 pm and walked at a fast pace down the trail. Passed one man headed for Fremont who confirmed that my friends had reached their destination. Stopped occasionally to take pictures.

Seneca Lake under blue skies

Small unnamed lake below Seneca Lake

I reached Ryan and Nick at 5:15, and we quickly decided to hike the remaining six miles, as both of them were well-rested and I still had enough energy for a few more hours of level/downhill hiking. We ate our tasty, somewhat expensive dehydrated dinners, then hit the trail at 6:30.

One last look at Fremont Peak from Photographers Point (7:10 pm)

We set a fast pace and reached the car at 8:50 in the last light of dusk under a rising, nearly full moon. That made 13 hours of hiking and 18 miles for me - officially my longest so far. Imagine walking halfway to Willmar from my home in the valley - with one major difference: walking halfway to Willmar would be extremely boring. I slept well and awoke surprised that none of my muscles were sore, though I do have one troubling blister on my left foot.

I love you, Mother Earth who created such places as Fremont Peak, and I look forward to climbing many more highpoints. I only wish that I could find someone to share my summits and the subtle joys of nature's journeys.