ski mountaineering

The 30 Peaks Project - Part 2: Southern Bridgers

As popular as the west side of the southern Bridger range is, the east side of the range is equally as secluded. Thousands of people drive within miles of the peaks every day, but approaching from the east is not an easy task. Although the highway traverses within 3 to 4 miles of the ridge line, there are no public access routes until you reach Bridger Bowl ski area approximately 10 miles up the canyon. As a result, venturing into the south-eastern Bridgers is a surprisingly remote and wild experience for its location close to the frequented trails and peaks near Bozeman.

I have looked at the east face of Mount Baldy and envisioned skiing it countless times on the drive up to Bridger Bowl in the winter, but have never taken the time to make it happen. The line is nothing particularly spectacular or noteworthy - just another one of numerous open bowls and avalanche gullies dotting the east side of the range south of Bridger Bowl - and I have always ended up heading for different peaks and lines that have found a place higher on my list.

Before I go any further, I should add a note on the naming of Mount Baldy. As a child, my family hiked Mount Baldy almost every summer as a first “warm up” hike of the spring. We always climbed the highest bare knob visible from town that I always knew as the summit of Mount Baldy. My family always referred to it as Mount Baldy, and the summit cairn and register are all located on the bald knob. The next rocky, high point before Saddle Peak I knew as Bridger Peak. Its a bit embarrassing to admit, but I don’t think I had ever really looked at a topographic map of the southern Bridger Mountains until this year. However, after reviewing maps and researching various online resources, the true summit of Mount Baldy is the rocky high point I always knew as Bridger Peak. What topographic maps label as Bridger Peak is nothing more than a slight bump on the ridge line between Saddle Peak and Mount Baldy. Although most people refer to the bald knob visible from town as Mount Baldy, the Mount Baldy I describe here is the true summit further north.

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The spring, and now summer, of 2020 has been a strange time. After returning from Death Valley in late March (including the first 3 official peaks of the 30 Peaks Project - to come in a future post), the world basically shut down due to Covid-19. My office had transitioned to working from home by the time I returned, and even the ski areas had shut down. I spent the next couple weekends sleeping in and enjoying lazy touring days in the mountains, but having decided to pursue summiting 30 peaks I began to itch for another summit day. After thinking over some possible summits appropriate for the snow (and Covid) conditions, I decided it was finally time to head for Mount Baldy.

The day started off much the same was as the past couple weekends - a slow and relaxing morning. After enjoying a good breakfast, Carl, Lex, Sugar, and I drove up to the shuttered Bridger Bowl base area and set off from the parking lot - Carl on snowshoes, Lex & Sugar “on paw,” and me on skis. With the Bridger Bowl lifts idle for the season, the climb started right out of the parking lot. However, the ski area being closed also meant the dogs could join us.

The skin to the base of the Schlasman’s lift went by relatively quickly and easily. The day was a little overcast, but the morning air was invigorating and the clouds kept the heat at bay. From the base of the Schlasman’s lift, the skin track becomes much more strenuous, climbing approximately 1,600 feet to the main Bridger ridge line. The previous day had been warm, and the combination of a steep skin track and iced over snow provided for some challenging conditions. However, Lex and I still made good time and reached the ridge line by mid-morning. Carl and Sugar decided that the skin track to the ridge was too steep for snowshoes, and instead spent the day exploring south of the ski area below Saddle Peak.

The journey across the ridge line to Saddle Peak is usually a frequently traveled route during the winter months with a good boot-pack to follow. However, with the lifts closed the climbing traverse to the base of Saddle Peak was an adventure, and slow methodical travel was necessary in order to avoid an unpleasant slide down the icy/rocky terrain below. The skin up to Saddle Peak was easy as always, but the only safe route down the south shoulder of the peak was a rocky, wind-swept scramble in ski boots to avoid overhanging cornices. Lex and I took a brief lunch break north of Bridger Peak, and made quick work of the rest of the ridge line until reaching the north shoulder of Mount Baldy. The final quarter-mile to the summit was a true slog - too steep to skin straight up the ridge line and lines of hollow drifts and small trees making both skinning switch backs and boot-packing miserable. Finally, after a seeming eternity of wallowing in snow drifts, I pulled myself and Lex up the final, near vertical, few feet to the top of the Mount Baldy summit blocks where we relaxed and enjoyed the views before gearing up for the descent.

View north from Bridger Bowl’s southern boundary.

View north from Bridger Bowl’s southern boundary.

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The view north from the summit of Mount Baldy

The view north from the summit of Mount Baldy

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The southern end of the Bridger Range and the edge of the Gallatin Valley.

The southern end of the Bridger Range and the edge of the Gallatin Valley.

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The descent down the east face of Mount Baldy was everything I had hoped for. After navigating the wind blown hard-pack at the top and testing out the stability, the meat of the line turned into perfect creamy spring powder! The open face is dotted with many fun little airs, particularly at the top, but being solo in such a remote area and with the Covid conditions, I decided it was best to stay conservative and keep it in snow contact this time. The skiing was great regardless, and I enjoyed each creamy turn for over 2,000 vertical feet with Lex yipping in excitement behind me. We skied into the base of the bowl and began a descending traverse at an elevation of approximately 6,700 feet, working our way north through low snow, brush, and gullies until we reached an old logging road.

Once we reached the logging road, we took a brief break for water and a snack, and then pulled the skins out for the trek back to the ski area. The skin back to the ski area was relatively easy in terms of elevation gain, but the warm snow conditions and our diminishing energy meant that we were in for a bit of a slog. Even Lex started dogging along at my heal instead of breaking trail. Eventually we ran into the snowshoe trail left by Carl and Sugar which buoyed both of our spirits and gave us a little extra energy for the last bit of skinning back to the base of the Schlasman’s lift.

At the bottom of Schlasman’s, we once again pulled skins and clipped in for the final ski back to the car. The road back to the base area from Schlasman’s is usually a slow ski under the best of conditions, and I was dreading how much skating the warm weather might require. Fortunately, the snow conditions and my recent waxing proved surprisingly compatible, and the ski out was one of the quickest and easiest in recent memory.

All told, it was an amazing day in the mountains covering over 11 miles, almost 4,000 feet of elevation gain, and over 2,000 vertical feet of amazing skiing. Summitting Saddle Peak and Mount Baldy also increased my tally to 5 peaks* for the year. The amount of effort required to get to and from the line is high and I doubt that I will make frequent return trips. However, the remoteness of the line and my desire to explore some of the terrain variations will almost assuredly draw my back in the future!

*Note on the peak tally: As of the date of the Mount Baldy trip, I had summited Rogers Peak, Bennett Peak, and Telescope Peak during the Death Valley Trip. I also summited Bridger Peak during the Mount Baldy trip. Technically, Bridger Peak meets the criteria I set for the 30 Peaks Project. However, as of the time I am writing this entry, I cannot make myself count it in the tally. It can hardly be considered a distinct peak under even the most generous definition, and I am still puzzled why anyone believed it to be worth naming. Thus, the peak tally after the Mount Baldy trip sits at 5 summits out of 30.

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Looking back up the east face of Mount Baldy.

Looking back up the east face of Mount Baldy.

Lex checking out the view of Saddle Peak on the way back to the ski area boundary.

Lex checking out the view of Saddle Peak on the way back to the ski area boundary.

The 30 Peaks Project - Part 1: Introduction

Climbing 30 peaks to celebrate 30 trips around the sun. It was a random idea that came to mind weeks after my 30th birthday in February. I have heard of other people taking on similar endeavors to celebrate major birthdays, but it was something I had never really thought of doing myself. I have never really been a “list person”, so I had never really given it serious consideration.

It is no secret that I love hiking, skiing, and climbing mountains. My winters have always been spent primarily on skis, but the last few years I have transitioned almost completely to backcountry skiing. The depths of winter are usually accompanied by high avalanche danger and poor peak bagging conditions, but early spring has quickly grown into one of my favorite parts of the year. The snow pack stabilizes, temperatures rise, days grow longer, and you can quickly cover terrain on skis that would be impassible during the summer - all ingredients for some fun summit days! Some of my favorite summits of the past few years have been during the late winter and early spring, including Gallatin Peak, Imp Peak, Telescope Peak, and Emigrant Peak to name a few.

Ridge lines and mountain tops rising above the sea of clouds around Emigrant Peak, Spring of 2018.

Ridge lines and mountain tops rising above the sea of clouds around Emigrant Peak, Spring of 2018.

Imp Peak rising above the Taylor Hilgard wilderness, Spring of 2019.

Imp Peak rising above the Taylor Hilgard wilderness, Spring of 2019.

George and Dan enjoying the view of the incoming storm from the top of Imp Peak, Spring of 2019.

George and Dan enjoying the view of the incoming storm from the top of Imp Peak, Spring of 2019.

Telescope Peak towering over the desert of Death Valley National Park before the clouds and winter weather rolled in for good, Spring of 2020.

Telescope Peak towering over the desert of Death Valley National Park before the clouds and winter weather rolled in for good, Spring of 2020.

Yours truly enjoying the view (or lack there of) from the top of Telescope Peak, Spring of 2020.

Yours truly enjoying the view (or lack there of) from the top of Telescope Peak, Spring of 2020.

Gallatin Peak standing tall on a gorgeous sunny day, Spring of 2020.

Gallatin Peak standing tall on a gorgeous sunny day, Spring of 2020.

Come summertime, hiking has been the go to activity for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was a child my parents took me hiking in the many wild areas around Bozeman. I have picked up mountain biking since college, but hiking and mountain climbing is still the go-to summer activity - especially if there is a nice mountain lake to jump in at the end of the hike! Summer also brings warmer weather and drier conditions which is perfect for backpacking, expanding the options for mountain summits into a never ending sea of wilderness, inaccessible by a day hike. There is something magical about the simplicity of backpacking - freeing yourself from the distractions of every day life while camping in the shadow of the peak you want to climb. Some of my favorite summer peaks have come from these backpacking trips, including Hilgard Peak, Mount Cowen, Electric Peak, and Tumble Mountain to name a few.

Breathtaking sunrise from the side of Hilgard Peak, Summer of 2018.

Breathtaking sunrise from the side of Hilgard Peak, Summer of 2018.

A rainbow only comes after the rain!  Below Hilgard Peak, Summer of 2018.

A rainbow only comes after the rain! Below Hilgard Peak, Summer of 2018.

Early morning on top of Mount Cowen, summer of 2017.

Early morning on top of Mount Cowen, summer of 2017.

Sunrise light playing across the side of Electric Peak, late summer of 2018.

Sunrise light playing across the side of Electric Peak, late summer of 2018.

Sunrise on the Lake Plateau below Tumble Mountain and Chalice Peak, summer of 2018.

Sunrise on the Lake Plateau below Tumble Mountain and Chalice Peak, summer of 2018.

View from the summit of Tumble Mountain, summer of 2018.

View from the summit of Tumble Mountain, summer of 2018.

Although I have been climbing some fun and challenging peaks over the past years, once I started thinking over my trips the last few summers the more I realized the complacency that has sneaked into my summer adventures. Although I haven’t been lazy by any stretch of the imagination, I have not been diligent in planning my trips for successful summits. Some trips I have simply chosen hikes with no summit objectives - there are many hikes that don’t involve peaks that are just as rewarding! However, many days when I have set out with a summit in mind I have been lazy in execution, often getting too late of a start in order to sleep in a little more, or to have a relaxing breakfast. These days have always turned into enjoyable hikes, but have also meant that I have not summited some peaks that I would like to due to poor planning and execution.

That brings us back to the idea: 30 peaks for 30 years. Although I had initially dismissed it, the more I thought about it the more fun it sounded. Climbing 30 summits this year may not be an outlandish objective for me right now, but it would give me a goal to work towards, and some extra motivation to get out of bed, out the door, and into the mountains. Additionally, it would hopefully be a good way to start chipping away at the ever-growing wish list of summits.

Thus, the 30 Peaks Project was born. As I write this entry, I currently stand 2 weeks shy of 4 months into the project, and have added 12 peaks to the list. However, those are stories for another day. For now, I will end with the rules I have set for myself:

  1. A peak will count towards the list if it is a named summit on a USGS topographic map. I will also count an unnamed peak if its a locally known/named summit, or if it is a distinct summit with an elevation comparable to nearby peaks.

  2. False summits do not count, I have to reach the true summit or it doesn’t go on the list.

  3. Summits must occur between February 28, 2020 and February 28, 2021.

  4. Summits can be reached via ski, foot, bike, etc… As long as I get to the true summit it counts.

  5. Only distinct summits count towards the list, multiple visits to the same summit only count once.

And with that, the 30 Peaks Project is officially underway. I hope my journey will bring some excitement to all of you reading this, and maybe provide a little extra motivation to get out and climb your own summits, whatever they may be!