Spilling secrets: moderate climbs
in Rocky Mountain National Park
by Bernard John Gillett
I used to make a point of climbing the South Face of Petit Grepon every summer. Anyone who is at all familiar with the alpine climbs in Rocky Mountain National Park has heard of the Petit Grepon—indeed, it’s a reasonable assumption that hundreds of road trips originating from points outside of Colorado have been inspired by dreams of climbing this famous formation. It’s no secret why, as the South Face is a fabulous climb worthy of the attention it receives. But therein lies the crux of the matter: it has become so popular that one’s enjoyment of the route can be substantially diminished when forced to share it with five other parties.
After climbing the Grepon ten times in as many years (not always by the South Face), I gave it up. On my first trip up the pinnacle, my brother John and I shared the route with no one—we swapped leads tied to a goldline rope while placing hexes and stoppers, and we marveled at the perfect rock and fantastic positions. I made my last ascent of the Grepon with my wife Sally and brother Robert, but I remember competing with other parties for belays and feeling a bit sheepish for all the tricks we pulled to get in front of the long line of climbers gunning for the top. It wasn’t the pleasurable outing I was looking for; it was a race to gain pole position. In the intervening years, we tried all the obvious methods of avoiding the ever-increasing traffic on the route. We woke up at 2:00 a.m. instead of 4:00 only to find another party had done us one-half hour better; we climbed the route in early June, but the descent was snow-choked and messy; and we even waited for a perfect day in late September. Sure, we had the place to ourselves, but I didn’t take off my fingerless gloves the entire way, and I never had the chance to caress the warm, golden stone I remembered from my first ascent. I secretly wished climbing had remained a sport for the lunatic fringe.
Those days are long gone, though, and they aren’t coming back. There are, however, plenty of routes in RMNP equal to the Petit Grepon (and other classics like it) that see almost no traffic. This article is for parties wanting to return to the good old days of leisurely ascents on perfect rock with no lift lines. Three routes are described in detail, and several more are briefly noted to round out the selection of great, less-traveled climbs in the park.
Better Than Love III 5.8 ***
A few weeks after I made my last climb of the Petit Grepon, my wife and brother and I decided to take a trip to Hallett Peak. Given that climbers have been swarming to the north face of Hallett since the 1950s, it’s not the most logical place to look for solitude in the mountains. But the north face is a huge wall capable of absorbing many parties, and though it’s likely you’ll find the most popular routes occupied on any summer day, there is a superb route that no one knows about. We stumbled upon it by luck, and it has become one of my favorite lines on Hallett.
Our original intent that day was to make an ascent of the Love Route on the Second Buttress. Arriving at the base of the wall, I scanned the face to recall the various pitches and belay stances that were familiar to me—I had done the climb on several occasions, but this would be the first time for Sally and Robert. After piecing the route together from below, I began to sort the rack, lace my shoes, and what not. But I kept straying from the task at hand to study an attractive, hanging dihedral left of the normal route. For some reason, the corner had caught my eye on that day, and the more I studied it, the more I knew we had to climb it. By the time I had tied into the lead rope, our plans had changed: we would abandon the Love Route in favor of a new line up the face.
What followed can only be described as every climber’s dream. Though the first pitch was nothing to write home about, it was more interesting than the ho-hum start to the Love Route. It ended on a good ledge below the dihedral, and I remember the anticipation I felt as I belayed. The dihedral was quite steep and capped with an intimidating roof that blocked the view of possibilities above.
It turned out to be the best pitch on the climb. Perfect stopper placements and finger locks appeared at regular intervals, linked by aesthetic 5.8 stemming moves. At the roof, I stepped left and found another corner as delightful as the first. Just as Robert signaled I was nearing the end of the rope, a lovely grass-and-flower covered ledge appeared on the left. The only disappointing aspect of the entire pitch was the old ring-angle piton I clipped as part of my belay anchor. Someone had been here before, and though it’s possible the pin was left by retreating climbers, the more likely scenario is that this was an old and forgotten climb from the 1960s.
It was nothing to get upset about, though, because the route was new for us, and unless your name is Layton Kor, it’ll be new for you, too. On the third pitch, we skirted the imposing headwall directly above our belay on the left, and ended up simul-climbing through easy territory to reach the top of the buttress that defines the lower half of the Love Route. (My brother John and I patched together several thin cracks on the right margin of the headwall several summers later in an engaging lead of 5.7 that straightens out the line and adds more quality climbing to the route).
From the top of the buttress, we joined the best pitches of the Love Route. These feature outrageous face climbing on salt-and-pepper colored knobs, and lead into the big roof at the top of the wall. Having done the overhang before (and knowing that it is often wet), I decided to swerve right into the 5.8 variation that was briefly described in the old DuMais guide to the Park. Once again, we were delighted to find superb climbing and happier still when it turned out to be reasonably protected. I had the impression the variation was run out (and had written just that in my first guide to RMNP), though it certainly wasn’t any worse than the normal fare on all Hallett climbs.
After returning to the base and sketching a topo of the route we had discovered, I decided to give it a name. We called it Better Than Love, because it was.
Rain Dance III 5.9 ***
In the upper reaches of Glacier Gorge lie some of the best rock in all of RMNP. No fewer than six major mountain walls—Pagoda, Spearhead, the two faces on Chiefs Head, McHenrys, and Arrowhead—adorn the glacier-carved bowl that some claim is the most beautiful spot on this great earth. Of these six faces, Spearhead garners the most attention, and every summer night, bobbing headlamps betray the locations of all parties bivied under her shadow.
Across the valley, hidden from view of the campers below Spear head, lies another great face that no one knows about. The south face of Arrowhead is tucked away behind the broken spires and ramparts that are so obvious from Black Lake, and though climbers from the 1970s explored and established a few routes on the broken faces, the south face was most curiously left alone.
I came to know about it in 1998, when another climber sent me a topo of a route he had recently completed for inclusion
in my new guide. He beamed about the wall’s absurdly good climbing and gave his route three stars. This I had to
see for myself, as I’m cautiously skeptical when I’m told a route is “totally the best, man, three stars for sure.”
I called my friend Douglas, and we marched into the wall one early summer morning armed with a camera and binoculars. I wanted a photo and a topo of the face, and we also wanted to do another route that had been established some years earlier. Douglas has been climbing for twice as long as I have, and we were both floored when we sat down in the deserted meadow below the wall and pulled out our lenses to study the face. We literally had to force ourselves to put away the binoculars and get on with our climb (which, incidentally, was absurdly good, as advertised). After the climb, we rested on a boulder next to a sparkling brook and continued our study of the wall. All told, we spent a full two hours that day just proposing new routes to each other.
Douglas was too busy to return to the mountains with me that summer, which was unfortunate, because he loves to do new routes. I ended up hiking in to Arrowhead seven more times with various partners, climbing pitch after glorious pitch of stunning cream-colored granite. I was so hooked on the south face that I even went three times in September. School was back in session by then, and I had to teach during the week, leaving only weekends free for climbing. But one week the weather was too good to be true, so I ended up telling my students that I had to cancel Thursday classes for an “important meeting.”
It was the best meeting I’d ever attended (the minutes of the meeting—i.e. the route details—are listed below). Only two people showed up (my buddy Chris and I), and we met in the Glacier Gorge parking lot at 4:00 a.m. We were climbing by 8:00, and we didn’t stop until the sun when down. All told, we did eight new 200-foot pitches on three different climbs (two were short). The first route featured a stupendous 5.9 lead similar in quality to the J-Crack on Lumpy Ridge, and the remaining pitches were nearly that good. Some time later we were disappointed to find out that the upper half of our long route had been done two weeks prior to our ascent by another party who named it Rain Dance. No worries—we still carried the memory of that climb with us well into the winter.
Southeast Ridge of Longs Peak II 5.5 ***
My brother John is a Longs Peak freak. He’s spent more than his fair share on every flank of the mountain, partly due to the fact that he was a Longs Peak ranger for several summers, but also because he has fallen in love with the queen of all summits in RMNP. Of course, he is not alone in this category, and one might suspect (as with Hallett) that Longs Peak is a bad place to visit if escaping crowds is the goal.
The surprising fact is, however, that there are several excellent mountaineering routes that no one climbs (I can hardly claim that no one knows about these routes as they’ve been around for decades). One such route is the Southeast Ridge, often called the Skyline Traverse or The Beaver. John has several times invited me to join him on this route. I was especially intrigued after his friend, who had just returned from the climb with John, proclaimed the route “the best he’s ever done.” But I never found the time to do it.
The prospect of writing an article about classic moderate routes in the Park finally gave me the impetus to get after it. So it was only the weekend of March fourth that John and I found ourselves struggling up the Apron, which is the snowfield leading to the Loft (the flat saddle between Meeker and Longs). This is the normal approach for the Southeast Ridge, though several other options are available (see below).
Neither of us had been to altitude for months, and thus we literally climbed the Apron on all fours, our faces only inches from the snow and small patches of ice. A minor detail, perhaps, but it had interesting consequences for us by the end of the day. When we reached the Loft, we turned right and scrambled over boulders to the top of the Notch, pausing several times to lean over the Upper East Face and take in the view. We touched the “summit” of the Notch, and you’ll want to as well if you’re part of the crowd who enjoys bagging all of the 14ers in Colorado. Topo maps show this point to be well above 14,000´ (around 14,025´ it would appear), and yet oddly enough, it is not part of the “Subsidiary Peak” list in Borneman and Lampert’s guide to the fourteeners. Perhaps this is due to the fact that it’s only a tenth of a mile to the summit of Longs from this point with a 125-foot saddle drop.
The 125-foot drop to the saddle (i.e. floor of the Notch) goes pretty rapidly because it is here that the ropes finally come out of the pack. One must rappel from fixed slings located twenty feet east of the Notch summit (on a ledge ten feet below the ridge), and it’s a dazzling descent that sets the tone for the remainder of the route. A 200-foot rope is adequate here, though two standard length ropes speed things up. With a 200-foot rope, one must stop on a large ledge one hundred feet down on the south side of the Notch, and then do a short pitch to get across to another big shelf on the other side.
From the big shelf, John led across a tenuous friction slab that is rather exciting in the winter. The entire east face lies below; gloved hands and double boots don’t lend themselves to inspiring confidence. Once across this barrier, he made a straight shot for the summit ridge via an ancient passage named the Stepladder (first climbed in 1935). This crux groove (5.5 in the summer) features excellent rock and good protection, and one can choose from any of several belay stances after a rope length. From here the route goes directly up the ridge for several hundred feet to the top, with plenty of big air (though your lungs won’t know it).
On the way down, we ran into two rangers who were headed up the peak to look for an overdue climber. We had glissaded down Lambs Slide after returning to the Loft via Clark’s Arrow, and thus had covered a substantial portion of the peak during the course of the day. Yet the only information we could give the rangers was that we had seen no other foot prints other than those of a party headed up to Meeker’s Dream Weaver gully.
The next day John learned the worst when he again spoke with the rangers. The overdue climber had died, and from the position of his body, it was assumed he fell from the Ramp below the Loft. In all likelihood, we had passed within twenty five yards of the young man as we climbed up the Apron with labored breathing. Focused as we were in our efforts to reach the Loft, we never even noticed him. He had probably long since passed away when we traveled through (he left the parking lot on March 3rd, a day before us), but it chilled us to think we were so near.
It also drove home the lesson that can’t be repeated often enough: these classic moderate secrets of RMNP make for memorable days in the outdoors, but they deserve all the respect in the world. Please climb safely.
Route details
The following descriptions assume some familiarity with the major features in Rocky Mountain National Park. The topos and photos should clear up any lingering questions. Additional details can be found in the latest edition of my guide (to be published this summer by Earthbound Sports).
Better Than Love III 5.8 ***
Approach: Begin in the Bear lake Parking Lot (at the end of Bear Lake Road) and hike two miles to Emerald Lake. Scramble south over steep talus from the near end of the lake to reach a bench, and follow that west to the base of the Second Buttress on the North Face of Hallett Peak.
The Climb: Scramble up left to a grassy ledge from the base of the huge, right-facing corner defining the first half of Love Route. 1. Two right-facing dihedrals mark the right, outside face of the protruding buttress on Love Route. An indistinct pitch wanders up short cracks to the base of the left dihedral, 5.6. 2. Climb the dihedral to a good ledge at its top (5.8 with bomber pro), passing an intimidating overhang midway up the pitch. This is one of the best leads on the north face. Belay on the left at an old piton. 3. A steep headwall looms overhead. Either go up right with disjointed finger cracks (5.7), then step left to a right-facing dihedral on the edge of the headwall (belay on any of several ledges above it), or bypass the headwall far to the left, swinging back right near the end of the rope, 5.5. 4. A short and easy pitch may be needed to reach the highest ledge on top of the protruding buttress. 5. Climb the left side of a large pillar, then angle slightly left to a small ledge with an old bolt, 5.6. This pitch and the next are shared with Love Route. 6. Work up along a left-facing flake, then weave up toward a big, black roof (excellent face climbing, 5.7). Make a rising traverse to the right near the end of the lead and find a tiny stance in a left-facing corner, 5.7. This corner parallels the standard crux pitch on Love Route (about thirty feet right). 7. Continue up the corner, and when it ends, traverse a 5.8 slab up left to the base of a left-facing dihedral. Step left and belay in a groove. 8. A short pitch shared with Love Route finishes the climb. A standard rack to three inches is sufficient.
Descent: The most carefree descent walks along the top of the north face to the west end of the Third Buttress, and then drops down north into a fairly obvious gully littered with loose scree. Switch left halfway down the gully at a notch, and continue to the base of the Third Buttress. From here it is easy to return to packs stowed at the start of the climb. (See picture, page 4, topo page 37.)
Rain Dance III 5.9 ***
Approach: Hike from the Glacier Gorge Junction Trailhead (on Bear Lake Road) to Black Lake (4.5 miles). From here there are two approaches to the south face of Arrowhead. The first passes easily beneath Spearhead after hiking east from Black Lake and proceeds directly to the bottom of the face. The second option takes a path around the north shore of Black Lake—begin by crossing the outlet stream on rocks and logs, and seek out a trail near the edge of the lake that wanders through tight trees. Cross a marsh on the north side and follow a boulder-filled gully to a maze of steep krummholz. Zigzag up ledges toward Arrowhead, then turn left on a grassy slope (heading toward McHenrys). The grass slopes end at a rib of rock; turn right onto talus and slabs and scramble to the foot of the south face. This second option for the approach is fairly obvious, and perhaps a half-mile shorter than going under Spearhead, but it is also steeper with some 3rd class, and may be blocked by snow in early season.
The Climb: Begin in a deep gully that drops down from the left side of the summit tower. 1. Climb a long, moderate pitch to a ledge which is the left hand extension of the Summit Ramp (see Descent). Set a belay between opposing corners. 2. Follow the corners and angle right to a big ledge (5.6); belay on the right side of a block below an amazing finger crack. 3. Jam the leaning finger crack to a fork (stunning 5.8), stay left with a wide section to another fork, and go left again along a tiny crack, 5.9. Step around left near its top to a left-facing dihedral and follow this to a good ledge. 4. Climb twenty feet to another ledge, from which there are two options. The best option hand traverses left along a flake to a steep slot with finger crack (5.9+); belay on a big ledge. The easiest line stays right, climbing over stacked blocks to a short 5.6 squeeze, and ends on the same ledge. 5. A fifty foot orange pillar which is visible from the ground rises off the belay ledge. Climb a tricky corner ten feet to its left, follow an easy ramp left, then go back right to a short slot leading to the base of a large, left-facing dihedral (the most prominent feature on the upper wall). Work up the dihedral to a wedged spike (5.9), then take disjunct hand cracks up the right wall (steep 5.8 with wild chicken heads). Bring a standard rack with extra thin gear.
Descent: Hike east over the summit of Arrowhead to the first saddle on the ridge and turn right (toward the Black Lake basin). Hike down to a saddle at the top of the very prominent Summit Ramp, which is the obvious shelf directly below the summit. Follow the ramp to its end (look for a few cairns). You’ve gone too far if you cross over the top of the gully in which the climb starts. Scramble down from the westmost cairn staying just left of an aréte, then switch to its right side at a big flake. Take the flake down to a long ledge at the base of the short wall below the Summit Ramp. Note that the last 100 feet from the ramp to the ledge is stiff 3rd class (die-if-you-fall territory), and a rope is advised here. Hike east on the ledge (tunneling beneath a fallen spike) for several hundred feet to a cairn on a large boulder, then follow easy gullies down and west (see photo page 5, topo page 37) to return to the talus.
Southeast Ridge of Longs Peak II 5.5 ***
Approach: Hike to the Chasm Lake ranger cabin (which lies just below the lake) from the Longs Peak Trailhead (on Highway 7, nine miles south of Estes Park). Leave the main trail and walk around the south side of Ships Prow toward the Loft (the huge saddle between Longs Peak and Mount Meeker). Kick steps up a snow couloir (or scramble along its left margin) to the foot of a headwall 400 feet below the Loft. From here the easiest method of reaching the Loft is via the Ramp, a slanting shelf which leads to the left from a point fifty feet below the headwall. Scramble left on the Ramp for about 200 feet, then turn uphill and follow a snow rib (or easy rock in mid summer). Above the rib, the angle eases and 300 feet of talus reaches the Loft. This point can also be reached with Lambs Slide, adding 1,000 feet of snow and ice climbing to the ascent, or the headwall below the Loft can be climbed directly (varying degrees of difficulty depending on season). Hike along the Southeast Ridge of Longs to the top of the Notch (~14,025’) and put on your climbing gear.
The Climb: By this point you’ve actually done most of the climb—it’s only one-tenth of a mile to the summit. It’s a pretty exciting tenth of a mile, though. Rappel into the Notch, cross to its north side, and establish a belay on a big shelf. Traverse straight right (more-or-less) on the east face for thirty feet to the base of the first weakness encountered (one can do the traverse high or low, the two variations being separated by about twenty feet). This crux groove is called The Stepladder, and it leads directly to the southeast ridge (5.5). Follow that to the top for 300 feet of 4th class. Bring a set of wires, a few hexes, and cams to 2.5 inches.
Descent: There are several logical ways of escape from the summit. One can descend the standard hiking route (The Keyhole), or go down the North Face to the rappels at the top of the Cables. It is also possible to return to the Loft via Clark’s Arrow, and then down the Ramp. If the latter method is used, you’ll see very few people all day long (see photos page 35 & 35).
Additional selected classics
Try the following routes for incredible (mostly) secluded adventures. See the second edition of Rocky Mountain National Park: The Climber’s Guide for more details.
1 Keyhole Ridge II 5.5 **
Another superb ridge on Longs Peak. Begins from the Keyhole above the Boulderfield and shoots straight for the summit on the north ridge.
2 West Ridge of Pagoda II 5.7 **
This ridge traverse climbs from the saddle between Chiefs Head and Pagoda, and includes a delightfully exposed and tilted sidewalk perched on the crest.
3 North Ridge of Spearhead III 5.6 ***
You won’t have the North Ridge to yourself as it’s one of the best 5.6 climbs in RMNP, but it deserves a spot on this list. There are several paths of ascent up the ridge, and thus the route more easily accommodates several parties.
4 Northeast Ridge of Sharkstooth II 5.6 ***
This route also can be climbed along several different lines, and includes a nicely exposed aréte at the top of the climb.
5 Kor Route III 5.8+ ***
Climbs the south face of the Saber, one pinnacle right of Petit Grepon. If you’ve hiked into the Grepon and find it crowded, take this route instead.
6 South Face of Zowie III 5.8+ **
Zowie is a spire similar to Petit Grepon, one valley to the north.
7 South Ridge of Notchtop III 5.8 to 5.10d ***
Amazing rock, stunning position, and several options to vary the difficulty. One of the best climbs in RMNP, though it doesn’t see one-tenth of the traffic it deserves.
8 Spiral Route III 5.4 **
This is a delightful romp up Notchtop that winds around the entire mountain on the way to the top. Tricky descent.
9 Blitzen Ridge III 5th class ***
This awesome route climbs the northern of two ridges on the east face of Ypsilon Mountain. Its difficulty ranges from 5.4 to 5.7. You won’t see another soul (aside from your partner) all day long.
10 Petit Grepon III 5.8 ***
It would be a shame to find out that my preference for avoiding crowded climbs influences your decision to forego an ascent of the Petit Grepon. If you’ve never done it, make it your next climb. You won’t be disappointed.
Although Bernard Gillett is not a member of the CMC, he has family ties to the club that go way back. Leah and Eunice Sweat, his grandmother and great aunt, belonged to the CMC from the very beginning. They climbed Longs Peak before Rocky Mountain National Park was created and participated in CMC outings in the early part of the 20th century. Bernard’s updated guidebooks to RMNP will be published later this year. He teaches mathematics at the University of Colorado (Boulder) during the school year, and climbs in Estes Park in the summer.
Directory of climbs addressed in this article
Southeast Ridge
of Long's Peak II 5.5