East Flattop and the endless ridge walk in the sky.

A day off. Hmmm. Let’s make great things happen. Or at least things that make my feet hurt.

So there is this unassuming ridge along the eastern border of the Park I see every time I walk out the front door of the cabin I’m staying in this summer. I’ve been thinking about what a nice ridge walk it would be. And what a nice way it would be to start my morning, having bragging rights every time I’m leaving for work.

Not the best picture, but you get my drift.

After pouring over the map and trying to find the best drainage to get to the top of this ridge, I’m not finding one that a very large and hungry bear would NOT love to call home. It appears the best angle of approach, although the longest one by foot, would be to take another crack at Otokomi Mtn. That summit is almost 8k feet, and from there I should be able to tie in Singleshot, East Flattop, and even Napi Point (way at the tail end of that ridge).

After a quick stop at the Rising Sun employee bathroom (after all, the trailhead is in their parking lot), I grab a quick handful of assorted colored condoms and I’m off for the hike.

I guess some things have changed since I worked in the Park back in the 1980s. I heard one gal who quit last week went to every employee bathroom she could find and replaced the contents of every condom basket with Bible literature. So much for Ultra Sensitive. But I digress.

My last off-trail approach to this mountain felt like I started the climbing route too soon. And I didn’t want to take the trail for a couple of more miles for a ‘shorter’ off-trail experience (and longer total route). So I split the difference and found a nice open burn area to start the 2000 feet of gain. This would be my last trail for almost twelve hours.

Picking my way thru the low brush, the thinned-out forest burn wasn’t that bad. Kind of comfortable. Good sight lines so I could see in advance any emerging angry Ursa Major and a nice gradual gain. It was going to be a great day.

And look. I even found remote little bursts of fresh Beargrass blooms hidden up in all of those standing snags. Thanks, Mother Nature, for rewarding my honest efforts.

And that was about the time everything pretty much promptly went to hell in a handbasket. The fire-burned trees started stacking up like pick-up sticks on a very steep grade, ripping the flesh off of my legs in no time. Thanks again, Mother Nature.

Then came a patch of boulder hopping. Remember how I love jumping over rolling boulders with the fear a leg would get caught and I’d starve to death? Oh, joy. But wait, I’ve got to cross thru a section of dense living forest that the fire did not burn out. Only about 75 yards deep, but so thick I can’t see thru it. And so cool and musky smelling I know a bear is living in there taking a nap in the morning heat. When I finally bust out, I find myself finally getting some real elevation really fast. But at a steep price (haha).

Oh, did I mention one of the worst scree fields I think I have ever been on? The scree was so large and the 45-degree angle kept me sliding back downhill as if walking on giant marbles. And I still had a LOT of gain to go. My leather boot uppers did not get a lot of love either, given how sharp all of that broken-up shale was.

And just when all hope is lost, there is the summit. And this wonderful little clump of Silky Phacielia (of the Waterleaf Family) was perfectly backlit with that wonderful grey weathered wood of a tree that had been dead longer than I had been alive.

But no. This one is the first of three false summits. Otokomi was not going to give up the crown that easily. No way. But eventually, I did roll up on top. It is probably the hardest little rounded-off nothing of an 8000-foot peak I’ve ever had to fight that hard to stand on.

But there were outstanding views of the Goat Mtn and its cirque lake just across the way.

Views down the St Mary Valley were not too shabby as well.

There was certainly a lot of space to roam around up at this elevation. Excellent!

But I still enjoyed my time a little on top before I had to move on.

Just want to share a couple more summit shots. This was a molehill mountain and not that impressive, so I’m almost embarrassed about how rewarding it was (at least if you took my route).

The next stop on the list is the summit of East Flattop. First, I’ve got to drop about 600′, then gain it back, and then gain some more to reach the 8,400′ high point of that equally rounded dome.

But before that, I still need to find some good goat trails thru what turned out to be pretty jumbled up razor ridge that was not going to provide safe passage without a fight.

All righty now. Nice to get thru the maze. Will need to remember my route for the return trip.

Now I get my view of the peaks that compose the summit of Singleshot Mtn. This is where Grinnell shot that mountain sheep with a single shot during his first trip to GNP in 1885. It’s like a giant dinner table. Well, for the most part.

With a little more of a climb, I find myself on top of East Flattop. Instead of a summit cairn, there is a summit circle. Set back away from the cliff face. If not the high point it will do just fine for me.

Dave and a sea of distant peaks.

Hopefully, you can hear me talk over the wind. It was blowing pretty much up high all day. Dried out my skin like an old piece of leather. But at least kept the heat down a little bit.

Although there is no West Flattop Mtn, I can see where the name was derived from.

Yellow Mtn is off in the distance. I’ll need to find out what is turning that rock yellow. Haven’t seen that coloration anywhere else in the Park.

Looking back, I should have just summited Singleshot and called it a day. Instead, I really thought I could get out to Napi Point. But it is way way way way out there. A big heart and big hopes have always been my downfall.

As I march on to a place that I would never reach, the views to my right and left were outstanding. All I had to do was stay on the approximate crest of the mountain’s backbone.

Napi Point gets close. Did I mention that I’m going to have to drop from about 8300′ to 7000′, and then back up another 500′? Oh, and then do the same going back?

Time is getting late. I later mapped out this trip, and Napi Point is like 3.5 miles of ridge walking from the East Flattop summit. Do that twice and it’s a long way and a long day.

At 7300′ I still need to drop and then gain. I was at the 7-hour mark and knew the return would be close to the same given the rough terrain around Otokomi. Pushing at 2 pm, and the heat was on. Plus, this nasty scrub forest would be an all-out blind bushwhack into the heart of darkness. I was starting to see fresh bear signs everywhere. They should be gorging on berries, not digging up nasty roots at this time of summer. Maybe 45 minutes still from Napi Point, but I’m done for the day. Dave out.

At least I found a patch of wildflowers (Erythronium grandiflorum – also known as Glacier Lily) fresh from the snow that had just melted less than a week ago. All for me. And my sore feet. And the many many hours I still had until I got back to the truck.

Of course, I tried to focus my tired eyes on the great views returning. Mt Merritt was showing off Old Sun Glacier.

But wait. Take a little walk with me. I literally got in hours of this type of hiking.

It didn’t take long until I started doing the math. I was going to be getting out of the mountains late today. REALLY late. So why not shoot another video as the hours dragged by?

I made it past the summit of East Flattop. Then the massive cliff jumble (where I did forget the route and it took me longer than I would have liked to get back over). Once on Otokomi again, I decided to take the alternative summit route for the descent which would bring me onto the trail sooner. Was hoping to save some toenails.

But that route was as horrible as the climb up and just as slow. First I got some more Beargrass to brighten my late afternoon. I now know what that plant truly is: the precursor to pain and suffering (only because death is too kind and comforting).

I ended up making a bunch of sketchy stream crossings and coming out of drainage with steep sidehills that tore up my ankles. Only to be fighting thru the logs of a dead forest with the brush that had grown up just high enough to hide whatever apex predator was waking up for a meal.

And as I fought my way to the trail, I kept remembering my last time out here when there was that bear that liked traveling on the trail. The trail I was using as my out. Hmmm….

At the end of the day, I rolled up to the Dodge just before 8 pm. Almost 14 hours on the trail. Later calculations would put my mileage right at 19 miles and gain well over 5000 feet. Been a LONG time since I’ve done that many miles off the beaten NPS path. Steps on my phone had me pushing 50k. I think I burned some calories today.

Tired? Yeah. Beat? Yeah. Trade it for anything in the world? At the moment I turned the key in the truck to go home, I’d have given it all away for a peanut butter cup. But by the time I pulled up to the cabin for the night, all was good with the universe again.

The body heals. The mind forgets the pain. All that remains is the memory of fresh air in the lungs and Beargrass wafting in a hillside breeze. Such long walks come too few and far between in life. Or maybe they are spaced out that way for a reason.